Estylwen
Skyswimsky
Kronshi
OwO
Sky Blue
Remram
Half Pint
hanzo
MarikAnd that's everyone again. Will make a post soon. By the way, if anyone is ever interested in collaborative bits, send me a PM and we can talk over discord (if you have discord, anyways).
Asuras Member
No spoken words, only napalm and guns
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4 yrs ago
Political opinions on a public forum? I just wanna rp for god's sake!
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Bio
Call me: Asuras
I like: Urban Fantasy, High Fantasy, Anime Aesthetics
I play: Anything. Mostly women.
I have a long history of GM'ing, perhaps even more than playing. I like art, and I commission a lot. D&D is my life right now.
Most Recent Posts
Okay there's something.
@Asuras Just for future reference, would it be alright if Mathias had some magical weaponry that he could make that was more than enchanted gun since he's probably seen and dealt with those kinds of weapons in the past? Nothing too crazy yet mind you.
Yup that's a-ok.
I couldn't in good conscience say no considering how long it took me to make this IC post lol. Don’t sweat.
Ok, finally something up. Please note that Macaron, Mathias, and Ozymandias have converged upon the same location and fight in the final section of the post. Flex your magic muscles people.
@Estylwen
For the briefest of moments, Reina could see through the tears that other humans -mages, no doubt- were "down there" upon the unveiled streets of the Dark City, but just as soon as they had stepped into view so many yards away, they disappeared out of view again. Cygni and Erina too, seemed to notice the passerbys, but the sway of their emotions that Reina yet sensed indicated to her that they felt little beyond a fleeting curiosity.
"Understood," Cygni replied to Reina. Erina offered only an accompanying nod. The two continued to follow their head through Yusei's domain, approaching then at a brisker pace to the throne of their god. Beneath the crossing of two tilted skyscrapers a triangular opening invited the three into pitch darkness. It was here that the garden of Yusei's presence made itself most readily apparent. From the cracks and crushed concrete of the Labyrinth sprouted a grove of spider-lily flowers, eternally bloomed.
It was grey. And greyer. It progressed.
Erina bolted to one of the flowers and crouched beside it to inspect. Grey as it was, there was the barest hint of red in its leaves, but the color visibly melted away slowly, painfully. Even for those unchosen by the deity, the phenomenon was easily comprehended.
"As you feared," Cygni said plainly, eyes cast down upon a patch of lilies nearby, "We shall return for reinforcements. Yusei is in your hands." Cygni said nothing more and retreated with Erina at his side back the way they came. Cygni cast a glance over his shoulder upon Reina -one last look, more dire than his usual collected self. Even though she had demanded their attendance, she nevertheless found herself faced with this all alone.
The shadows of Yusei's throne lay before her. Within was a hall of ancient red stone, utterly anachronistic to the dilapidated but no less modern apocalypse of modernity storming outside. Her god yet breathed, but time seemed short. Venturing within, Reina could take nary one step into the black before a half-encouraging, half-disappointing presence made itself known. From the edge of the shadowed shelter extended tall forms which hugged the ground. Shadows cast from no light stretched on either side of Reina -one form of Yusei's guardians.
"Chosen. Uncalled," one shadow whispered.
"Master. Recovering," the other said.
"Begone," they said in unison.
"Erina," Cygni spoke as he stopped in his tracks. The two had parted from Reina mere minutes ago, but now out of sight and earshot, Cygni paused their return to secure reinforcements, and turned fully to the young woman.
"Confident as Reina may be, and blessed by Yusei as she is, you and I both know that these events are beyond anything yet experienced. If Yusei should truly be grievously injured or indeed dead, then Reina's confidence would be the least outmatched aspect of her. I cannot in good conscience leave her unguarded."
Erina faced Cygni with crossed arms and scoffed. "Ha! You truly think I don't know your play here? If I'm the only one to return, and something happens to Reina, then I'm equally culpable. Regardless of who says or cares about what at the council, that still puts a great deal of bad faith upon my character. You don't think that knowing I'm willing to let you go would make even you reconsider my character later on? Don't make me laugh. You're coming back with me. We're both seeing to it that this mess doesn't explode in our faces," Erina said. Cygni returned her rant with typical flatness.
"I think you lack imagination," Cygni said, eyes lidded and unamused. Erina turned and continued on.
"And I think you lack some foresight," she retorted.
The battle, if at all it could be called such, lasted only a half minute.
@ERode
Vaulted ceilings and ribbed walls enclosed Amiya in near-darkness. An eerie glow of red suffused the very air, shining by the light of unseen sources. There was a few faint sensation that, though this place was dangerous and offensive to mortal-kind, it grew increasingly 'emptier' and devoid of looming threat with each passing moment. She knew not where in the Labyrinth she was, as was to be expected. Mages rarely found the same place twice if exploring randomly. The quietness and darkness was a common feature, to be sure, but a Dungeon was much more than its looks and Amaya sensed an intrinsic difference there that went beyond -a uniqueness that represented the nature of magical discovery well. Though a spell did not suddenly manifest within her mind, she felt as though such inspiration lay just around the corner here. "It" was dense.
There were two ways to go within the hall; three, if one counted retreat back into the rift she had just exited as an option. Instinct guided her down only one, tugged by the emanation of a heavier presence deeper within. Halls made into atriums, into more halls, into stairwells, into halls again. As she drew nearer, the presence grew stronger. Stronger? No... more 'understood'. It grew not stronger, but weaker, and yet nevertheless more easily hunted-down. Amaya felt as though a predator becoming accustomed to the scent of her wounded prey who legs were steadily giving out. Was she truly chasing something, and it was running?
The hundredth hall she strode through opened up into a circular room. The red glow of the Dungeon had dissipated, replaced then by the confined spotlight of a hole in the room's ceiling. In the center was a short mound of earth, upon which lay a shrouded figure. Thin, tousled cloth wrapped around an emaciated humanoid form that lay on its side. A soft red color was vaguely visible from beneath the translucent but multiply-layered wrapping, giving the impression of a bloodied corpse tied up by plastic. Wisps of the fabric drifted quietly in the non-existent breeze, shredded and still fraying moment by moment. Movement within the mummy suggested breathing, but Amaya knew this thing needed no air. What she was witnessing was emulating an act of dying, whatever it was.
"Ah... at last. Reprieve."
Amaya's ears made out a gurgling, pained sound. The mummy shifted almost imperceptibly. It could do naught but wiggle slightly upon the ground.
@OwO
The snake-eyed woman nodded sagely, a hand to her mouth as she watched Macaron showcase a semblance of magical ability. Contained as the magic was, she seemed content with knowing that Macaron could slice even her own toughened form.
"Walk with me, I'll explain," she said, already moving on. Everywhere on the streets of the Dark City was as nondescript as they come, and so wherever it was that she intended on leading Macaron, it was impossible to discern. It was only within the walls of the silent buildings that more unique and interesting locales made themselves known, even if many of them didn't remain in existence indefinitely.
"You ever wonder how it was that you survived that night years ago?" she asked suddenly before pausing. She clicked her tongue at nothing in particular, and added, "You're gonna have to ignore how I know about this for now. Just know that I do." The woman slipped her hands into jean pockets and kept forward with an agitated, leaning posture. She continued,
"Only the ones that happened to be out and about, too far. You would think that, right? No one ever thought to do some blood testing. The ones that were present too -underlings, nobodies. All alive. All sharing one common thing: they ain't Kataoka by a blood measure. Except... you. Why do you think that is? You really thought a little kid could hide from that... thing, didn't you?" The woman groaned, stretched her back, and looked to the empty sky as she walked.
"Let me know if this is all a bit much. But... you know, don't also be a pansy. Wait, do you hear that?" The woman lowered her lax stance and broke into a jog towards another row of buildings. Faintly at first -and then with better focus- Macaron made out the sounds of gunfire and heavy impacts. It echoed through the starless skies, but she could pinpoint it just as well as her werewolf friend.
"Keep up, we might be too late already!" she called out.
It didn't take long to intercept the source.
@Kronshi
"Describing my methods is like detailing an encyclopedia," the woman said sharply. She lifted her right arm and pulled back the sleeve of her raincoat, revealing the arcane crest which wrapped around her forearm. Without a deeper scrutiny, the shape of it meant nothing, but the gesture was there. "Mine is one of Dynamicism. And I know yours is of Complexity. A difficult pair to make work. I'm also not quite yet about to reveal my style," she said with a tinge of enmity.
She seemed surprised by his suggestion, even behind the gas mask, her body shifting back. "Are you certain? Or... have you attempted this before?" she asked, "Given the night, I would be cautious of attempting anything unusual. I've no experience in the matter, but I can certainly hazard that opening a Dungeon in the Dark City is not something to be done lightly. I surmise you may be inviting an imprisonment within, however long. But... I'll keep watch."
As Ozymandias settled down to open the Dungeon, he was immediately struck by the sensation that this was not going to be easy, nor was it going to be quite like the door he had opened moments ago either. Within the Dark City, a manifestation of the Labyrinth taking on the form of the collective unconscious, everything was guided by the thoughts and feelings of even the mundane. Linking the Labyrinth itself -as a Dungeon- into this realm was like trying to neatly add amendments to a page already filled top to bottom by lines of law. In addition, as he persisted, there came the blunt force of "something", and he conceptualized the idea of a strand suddenly catching hold of him and tugging with a jolt.
The prospect of opening the Dungeon seemed more and more distant the more he tried. It was not a matter of difficulty, but a matter of 'distance'. The Dungeon he envisioned soared away onto the horizon, ever out of reach no matter the speed with which he himself flew. And then, a wave...
@Remram @Kronshi @OwO
Mathias was certain that his volley cracked into the 'bulk' of the manifestation, but even with the ammunition that had served him well so many other times against mere ghosts, the entity shrugged it off as if the very void of space. Even with something intangible, however, there was the potential to refit it into a more solid form -he just needed to 'grasp' it. Easier said than done.
Rafael affirmed Mathias's order, and kept in lock step with Emma as the two dove and retaliated against the incorporeal opponent. Just as fruitlessly as Mathias, however, their attacks seemed to do little more. Brief flashes of magic signaled the team as to Dirk's 'location', and given the shifting location it seemed as though even his diminished presence was still under threat by the phantom.
"Nothing's working!" Bel shouted out between a din of machinegun fire, "Can you solidify it yet, Mathias?"
Before a reply could even be made, there came a groaning to the air and a twisting to the gut. Amidst a flyby of another strike by the manifestation, the Dark City around them shuddered and rent as rapidly multiplying tears ripped stone and sky. Cracks wove between them, crawling across emptiness and street alike, linking together as a growing web of unreality.
Elsewhere, the tug which had bugged at Ozymandias's mind suddenly became a wrenching, and his body and mind were spirited along a conveyor of maddening images. He briefly caught sight of the woman who accompanied him similarly tumbling through frantic reality. All at once, a new location slammed upon his senses like a brick wall, and he found himself tossed onto rubble-strewn pavement. His gas-mask friend coughed and hacked next to him, afflicted not by dust or gas but by the rough experience that had just assaulted them in mind, body, and soul.
A team of militarily-kitted humans surrounded him -no, not quite. It seemed moreso that he was the surprise, unceremoniously dumped into their presence unannounced. Mathias and his team were plagued not merely by a manifestation then, but by two unexpected mages. The party was only to grow, however.
Had the surrounding buildings always been this stilted? The gray features and yellow eyes of the Dark City had twisted and bent into one another. They clipped each other in unnatural, non-euclidean ways, and in many spaces formed uninviting holes leading on into darkness. From one such tunnel stepped forth a pair of young women, arriving on the scene by means of eldritch path.
Macaron and her compatriot found themselves faced with a colorful array of fellow mages, each one just as surprised by one another's presences as they themselves. Their confused gathering was spared no more moment to adjust before a low growl redirected any concerns elsewhere. Perched high upon the twisting towers surrounding them was Mathias's original dilemma. A bestial form, always half-unseen, clung to the walls as if weightless. What could be seen of it rippled across the surface of its black-furred body, and occasionally revealed a savage maw of teeth and triplet eyes. Whatever had just occurred to twist their battlefield so, it seemed not-wholly intangible then. It's shifting visibility still posed a problem nonetheless.
It dove upon the streets with a crash, and bristled its haunches. A wave of realness washed over its many eyes, and revealed their training upon every party.
None were spared.
For the briefest of moments, Reina could see through the tears that other humans -mages, no doubt- were "down there" upon the unveiled streets of the Dark City, but just as soon as they had stepped into view so many yards away, they disappeared out of view again. Cygni and Erina too, seemed to notice the passerbys, but the sway of their emotions that Reina yet sensed indicated to her that they felt little beyond a fleeting curiosity.
"Understood," Cygni replied to Reina. Erina offered only an accompanying nod. The two continued to follow their head through Yusei's domain, approaching then at a brisker pace to the throne of their god. Beneath the crossing of two tilted skyscrapers a triangular opening invited the three into pitch darkness. It was here that the garden of Yusei's presence made itself most readily apparent. From the cracks and crushed concrete of the Labyrinth sprouted a grove of spider-lily flowers, eternally bloomed.
It was grey. And greyer. It progressed.
Erina bolted to one of the flowers and crouched beside it to inspect. Grey as it was, there was the barest hint of red in its leaves, but the color visibly melted away slowly, painfully. Even for those unchosen by the deity, the phenomenon was easily comprehended.
"As you feared," Cygni said plainly, eyes cast down upon a patch of lilies nearby, "We shall return for reinforcements. Yusei is in your hands." Cygni said nothing more and retreated with Erina at his side back the way they came. Cygni cast a glance over his shoulder upon Reina -one last look, more dire than his usual collected self. Even though she had demanded their attendance, she nevertheless found herself faced with this all alone.
The shadows of Yusei's throne lay before her. Within was a hall of ancient red stone, utterly anachronistic to the dilapidated but no less modern apocalypse of modernity storming outside. Her god yet breathed, but time seemed short. Venturing within, Reina could take nary one step into the black before a half-encouraging, half-disappointing presence made itself known. From the edge of the shadowed shelter extended tall forms which hugged the ground. Shadows cast from no light stretched on either side of Reina -one form of Yusei's guardians.
"Chosen. Uncalled," one shadow whispered.
"Master. Recovering," the other said.
"Begone," they said in unison.
----------------------
"Erina," Cygni spoke as he stopped in his tracks. The two had parted from Reina mere minutes ago, but now out of sight and earshot, Cygni paused their return to secure reinforcements, and turned fully to the young woman.
"Confident as Reina may be, and blessed by Yusei as she is, you and I both know that these events are beyond anything yet experienced. If Yusei should truly be grievously injured or indeed dead, then Reina's confidence would be the least outmatched aspect of her. I cannot in good conscience leave her unguarded."
Erina faced Cygni with crossed arms and scoffed. "Ha! You truly think I don't know your play here? If I'm the only one to return, and something happens to Reina, then I'm equally culpable. Regardless of who says or cares about what at the council, that still puts a great deal of bad faith upon my character. You don't think that knowing I'm willing to let you go would make even you reconsider my character later on? Don't make me laugh. You're coming back with me. We're both seeing to it that this mess doesn't explode in our faces," Erina said. Cygni returned her rant with typical flatness.
"I think you lack imagination," Cygni said, eyes lidded and unamused. Erina turned and continued on.
"And I think you lack some foresight," she retorted.
The battle, if at all it could be called such, lasted only a half minute.
@ERode
Vaulted ceilings and ribbed walls enclosed Amiya in near-darkness. An eerie glow of red suffused the very air, shining by the light of unseen sources. There was a few faint sensation that, though this place was dangerous and offensive to mortal-kind, it grew increasingly 'emptier' and devoid of looming threat with each passing moment. She knew not where in the Labyrinth she was, as was to be expected. Mages rarely found the same place twice if exploring randomly. The quietness and darkness was a common feature, to be sure, but a Dungeon was much more than its looks and Amaya sensed an intrinsic difference there that went beyond -a uniqueness that represented the nature of magical discovery well. Though a spell did not suddenly manifest within her mind, she felt as though such inspiration lay just around the corner here. "It" was dense.
There were two ways to go within the hall; three, if one counted retreat back into the rift she had just exited as an option. Instinct guided her down only one, tugged by the emanation of a heavier presence deeper within. Halls made into atriums, into more halls, into stairwells, into halls again. As she drew nearer, the presence grew stronger. Stronger? No... more 'understood'. It grew not stronger, but weaker, and yet nevertheless more easily hunted-down. Amaya felt as though a predator becoming accustomed to the scent of her wounded prey who legs were steadily giving out. Was she truly chasing something, and it was running?
The hundredth hall she strode through opened up into a circular room. The red glow of the Dungeon had dissipated, replaced then by the confined spotlight of a hole in the room's ceiling. In the center was a short mound of earth, upon which lay a shrouded figure. Thin, tousled cloth wrapped around an emaciated humanoid form that lay on its side. A soft red color was vaguely visible from beneath the translucent but multiply-layered wrapping, giving the impression of a bloodied corpse tied up by plastic. Wisps of the fabric drifted quietly in the non-existent breeze, shredded and still fraying moment by moment. Movement within the mummy suggested breathing, but Amaya knew this thing needed no air. What she was witnessing was emulating an act of dying, whatever it was.
"Ah... at last. Reprieve."
Amaya's ears made out a gurgling, pained sound. The mummy shifted almost imperceptibly. It could do naught but wiggle slightly upon the ground.
@OwO
The snake-eyed woman nodded sagely, a hand to her mouth as she watched Macaron showcase a semblance of magical ability. Contained as the magic was, she seemed content with knowing that Macaron could slice even her own toughened form.
"Walk with me, I'll explain," she said, already moving on. Everywhere on the streets of the Dark City was as nondescript as they come, and so wherever it was that she intended on leading Macaron, it was impossible to discern. It was only within the walls of the silent buildings that more unique and interesting locales made themselves known, even if many of them didn't remain in existence indefinitely.
"You ever wonder how it was that you survived that night years ago?" she asked suddenly before pausing. She clicked her tongue at nothing in particular, and added, "You're gonna have to ignore how I know about this for now. Just know that I do." The woman slipped her hands into jean pockets and kept forward with an agitated, leaning posture. She continued,
"Only the ones that happened to be out and about, too far. You would think that, right? No one ever thought to do some blood testing. The ones that were present too -underlings, nobodies. All alive. All sharing one common thing: they ain't Kataoka by a blood measure. Except... you. Why do you think that is? You really thought a little kid could hide from that... thing, didn't you?" The woman groaned, stretched her back, and looked to the empty sky as she walked.
"Let me know if this is all a bit much. But... you know, don't also be a pansy. Wait, do you hear that?" The woman lowered her lax stance and broke into a jog towards another row of buildings. Faintly at first -and then with better focus- Macaron made out the sounds of gunfire and heavy impacts. It echoed through the starless skies, but she could pinpoint it just as well as her werewolf friend.
"Keep up, we might be too late already!" she called out.
It didn't take long to intercept the source.
@Kronshi
"Describing my methods is like detailing an encyclopedia," the woman said sharply. She lifted her right arm and pulled back the sleeve of her raincoat, revealing the arcane crest which wrapped around her forearm. Without a deeper scrutiny, the shape of it meant nothing, but the gesture was there. "Mine is one of Dynamicism. And I know yours is of Complexity. A difficult pair to make work. I'm also not quite yet about to reveal my style," she said with a tinge of enmity.
She seemed surprised by his suggestion, even behind the gas mask, her body shifting back. "Are you certain? Or... have you attempted this before?" she asked, "Given the night, I would be cautious of attempting anything unusual. I've no experience in the matter, but I can certainly hazard that opening a Dungeon in the Dark City is not something to be done lightly. I surmise you may be inviting an imprisonment within, however long. But... I'll keep watch."
As Ozymandias settled down to open the Dungeon, he was immediately struck by the sensation that this was not going to be easy, nor was it going to be quite like the door he had opened moments ago either. Within the Dark City, a manifestation of the Labyrinth taking on the form of the collective unconscious, everything was guided by the thoughts and feelings of even the mundane. Linking the Labyrinth itself -as a Dungeon- into this realm was like trying to neatly add amendments to a page already filled top to bottom by lines of law. In addition, as he persisted, there came the blunt force of "something", and he conceptualized the idea of a strand suddenly catching hold of him and tugging with a jolt.
The prospect of opening the Dungeon seemed more and more distant the more he tried. It was not a matter of difficulty, but a matter of 'distance'. The Dungeon he envisioned soared away onto the horizon, ever out of reach no matter the speed with which he himself flew. And then, a wave...
@Remram @Kronshi @OwO
Mathias was certain that his volley cracked into the 'bulk' of the manifestation, but even with the ammunition that had served him well so many other times against mere ghosts, the entity shrugged it off as if the very void of space. Even with something intangible, however, there was the potential to refit it into a more solid form -he just needed to 'grasp' it. Easier said than done.
Rafael affirmed Mathias's order, and kept in lock step with Emma as the two dove and retaliated against the incorporeal opponent. Just as fruitlessly as Mathias, however, their attacks seemed to do little more. Brief flashes of magic signaled the team as to Dirk's 'location', and given the shifting location it seemed as though even his diminished presence was still under threat by the phantom.
"Nothing's working!" Bel shouted out between a din of machinegun fire, "Can you solidify it yet, Mathias?"
Before a reply could even be made, there came a groaning to the air and a twisting to the gut. Amidst a flyby of another strike by the manifestation, the Dark City around them shuddered and rent as rapidly multiplying tears ripped stone and sky. Cracks wove between them, crawling across emptiness and street alike, linking together as a growing web of unreality.
Elsewhere, the tug which had bugged at Ozymandias's mind suddenly became a wrenching, and his body and mind were spirited along a conveyor of maddening images. He briefly caught sight of the woman who accompanied him similarly tumbling through frantic reality. All at once, a new location slammed upon his senses like a brick wall, and he found himself tossed onto rubble-strewn pavement. His gas-mask friend coughed and hacked next to him, afflicted not by dust or gas but by the rough experience that had just assaulted them in mind, body, and soul.
A team of militarily-kitted humans surrounded him -no, not quite. It seemed moreso that he was the surprise, unceremoniously dumped into their presence unannounced. Mathias and his team were plagued not merely by a manifestation then, but by two unexpected mages. The party was only to grow, however.
Had the surrounding buildings always been this stilted? The gray features and yellow eyes of the Dark City had twisted and bent into one another. They clipped each other in unnatural, non-euclidean ways, and in many spaces formed uninviting holes leading on into darkness. From one such tunnel stepped forth a pair of young women, arriving on the scene by means of eldritch path.
Macaron and her compatriot found themselves faced with a colorful array of fellow mages, each one just as surprised by one another's presences as they themselves. Their confused gathering was spared no more moment to adjust before a low growl redirected any concerns elsewhere. Perched high upon the twisting towers surrounding them was Mathias's original dilemma. A bestial form, always half-unseen, clung to the walls as if weightless. What could be seen of it rippled across the surface of its black-furred body, and occasionally revealed a savage maw of teeth and triplet eyes. Whatever had just occurred to twist their battlefield so, it seemed not-wholly intangible then. It's shifting visibility still posed a problem nonetheless.
It dove upon the streets with a crash, and bristled its haunches. A wave of realness washed over its many eyes, and revealed their training upon every party.
None were spared.
It's been mostly finished, but I'm dissatisfied with the content a little. Deliberating on what I want to add or change.
Alright, now that THAT holiday has passed, going to start working on next post. Should be ready tomorrow.
Next post coming soonish (got Thanksgiving to deal with).
Aaaand it's up. Sorry for the delay this time around. Still been pretty addled by life stuff.
@ERode
Gerome smiled, crossed his arms at his back, and casually strolled about the safehouse, inspecting items and corners with fleeting interest as he spoke.
"I am well glad that happenstance brought me here. Forgive me if this knowledge comes off as unnerving, but I can certainly sense in you already that what I need is within you. A tool, right for this job. Tell me, have you ever used that against something of greater being than the Manifestations that typically crawl out of the Dark City hole? Something more than a demon?" Gerome's eyes cast down upon Amaya where she sat from across the room. A scrutiny and analysis had already seemed to have taken place, and his impression of her went deeper than physical appearances and recommendations. She might have been exactly on the money with her presumptions. Gerome continued his sauntering.
"I imagine not, all things considered. It is so rare that gods and angels show themselves in the other world. The Dark City has a habit of showing only its worst," he continued. Roland interjected.
"Most of us are pretty vile ourselves," he scoffed, "Guess the Dark City just gives tit for tat. I'm sure a saintly mage has seen the light here and there." Gerome's expression had become flat, listening to Roland, before he forced his lips back into a lifeless smile.
"You may be right. Perhaps we can see a new saint here tonight. Ma'am, what I request of you is simultaneously the greatest thing you may ever achieve, and yet outwardly a simple matter. You can sense the strangeness in the air tonight, yes? I know of something to come, and an opportunity that may never show again."
Gerome made his way to a more open space in the middle of the safehouse, and from inside his spotless coat pulled out a small vial filled with red. It was obvious enough that it was blood inside. With two fingers, Gerome pinched the glass and shattered it. A splash and then drips of blood hit the concrete floor with faint taps. The puddle bubbled and then from it rose a tall, thin line of red which suddenly split sideways, as if parting the air itself to reveal a secret tunnel beyond.
"Within you will find the Labyrinth, not merely the Dark City. A Dungeon, and one to a very particular place. Deeper still you will find your target. It will be impossible to miss or identify. Your reward-" Gerome pulled from his coat once again, revealing a black credit card, "-is more money than you've ever held at once, I surmise. All you need to do is fell this weakened being. Simple, yes?"
@OwO
"Anyways, it's good that you're here because-" the young woman blinked, stiffened, and turned to an expression of anger all within the span of a half-second. Even for the most half-baked of mages, something as simple as a tossed mundane object was rarely simple. No, they were mediums for explosions, disguised weapons, and sometimes far worse. The snake-eyed woman extended a hand to catch the tossed can and grasped it, deftly catching it before flexing her own powers. Immense strength spaghettified the can -a strength that the woman quickly realized was unnecessary. The contents of the Value Purple Soda exploded in her face with a pitiful fizz. No magic was unleashed. No delayed curse. She blinked, and frowned, and glared.
"What?! What's with you? Who tosses a can of soda?! At least throw a spell at me, like come on!" The woman wiped at her face and then flicked her hands with a grimace. Value Purple smelled like cough medicine, and she clearly didn't enjoy it. "Damnit, my face is gonna be sticky now. No damn water in the Dark City." Tossing the crushed can, she approached Macaron with a taught, driven step.
"We're even now, though yours was definitely more childish. Definitely. Like I was saying though, you got here at perfect timing. Shit's going down already, and two bodies is better than one. I know you can toss cans, but you also do know your way around magecraft, right? Please tell me you haven't just been shirking that side of your lineage too."
@Estylwen
A red flare bore from the enchanted shadow's shifting face, its directive changed now from the mindless predation of others to a true purpose. The crawling void suddenly lurched and rose up briefly before descending upon a shadow beside it. One was but an animal, and another was now a blessed soldier. The two tangled into a storm of darkness and wailing before an obvious victory emerged. Now 'other', the unaffected shadows sought new prey. A soldier stood against a storm of barbarism.
Cygni made a motion in silence, and washed over them a spellcraft that presumably hid them to some extent. It was difficult to discern yet what, if anything, could still sense them, but the feeling of wrongness that pervaded the domain had diminished slightly, indicating that a barrier had been erected in some capacity.
Reina's signal flare had yet to produce any additional aid, nor draw in more enemies. Normally there was a contingent of dark figures and gazing eyes about Yusei's domain, vigilant against the invasion of competing divinities and skulking thieves, but the region felt empty. Only the howling of malign winds kept the trio company. Cygni remained dour and focused, the bend of his vague emotions seeming as if a cold determination. Erina by contrast was a mixture of slight apprehension and a confidence that currently stood dominant. As they pressed on, Reina eventually caught a peculiar anomaly along the way.
It seemed not unlike a crack in the wall of a skyscraper, but was cut into the side of a piece of rubble on the side of the road they traveled. Between the crack, the distinct sights of a section of the Dark City could be seen, as though she were standing within one of its buildings and looking down at an empty street. Peculiar at first, it seemed more and more common as they continued. The slices of Dark City reality became more numerous, and larger. The other two had paused, seemingly noticing the phenomenon as well.
"It is as though the Labyrinth is breaking down," Cygni stated, observing a cut into the domain that hovered at face-height some feet away.
"I was right, this is not something achievable by another mage. Not one of our lifetimes," Erina said sharply. "This can only be the work of something on par with Yusei." She looked to Reina and then Cygni, a hint of worry in her eyes that reflected in the sensed emotions of Reina's spell.
@Remram
The team broke into a hurried reaction, shifting positions, readying weapons, and scanning surroundings. The smoke from the building continued to billow, and its outermost edges sifted around the squad's boots.
"I can make it out, just barely," Rafael said, his voice struggling to maintain cool. His rifle leveled up into the dust cloud, waiting for movement from that 'thing' which was 'merely present' and yet so deadly. "I would retreat to a higher position, but you guys may need my directions here," he continued. In one moment, Dirk was standing there readied, and another, he had vanished. The smoke already saturated the empty void he had left behind.
Bel's expression was a contorted one of anger, his finger itching to loose a volley onto anything that dared to twitch. "Is this just a matter of invisibility, or are we going to have to improvise our attacks here?" he asked. If it was merely invisible, the solution was easy. If not... heads had to be put together.
"I'm afraid the latter," Rafael droned. Emma had deftly pulled a knife into her left hand and set the dog carrier onto the ground with the other. After unzipping the top of the bag a white smoke, cold as ice, evaporated from within. Her 'dog', a pact-bound familiar, manifested within the Dark City as a shapeless fog -though one could often catch a glimpse of something predatory and animalistic lurking just behind the white veil. Incorporeal as it was, perhaps it was one of the better shots at harming the Manifestation they faced.
Mathias watched the confines of the cloud, waiting for that pattern of singularly "dust-ness" to shift, and found his moment: a fracture in the pattern, less than a movement of even a single particle. The concept came rushing for him once again and with it a sensation of jaws and claws within the formless stampede.
Rafael opened fire with a single shot, himself able to see just as well. With his prompt, Bel too ripped into the cloud with a hail of arcane bullets, but nothing yet seemed to connect.
@Kronshi
Despite the fully obscuring gas mask, Ozymandias could discern -perhaps through subtle body language, perhaps retroactively in the voice of hers that followed- that the woman smiled at his answer.
"I see. An astute assessment- hey, wait," she protested as she was grabbed, but did not tug back and instead kept pace beside Ozymandias. The building had indeed shifted, and the scenery outside no longer recognizable. Though it was indeed that same sort of street as any other in the Dark City, the buildings broken any sense that he was still near where he had entered from Realspace. A glint in the sky caught his eye -a shimmer of pure red, and for a moment the sensation that one or more people on the other side of it were looking back at him.
"I'm afraid that after being displaced, I've no idea where the original portal was either," the woman said then. She retracted her arm from his grip as she took a few more tentative steps on the street. "We could form a portal back to Realspace here, if we are not afraid of potentially stepping into someone's apartment." The woman paused, thinking, before turning to face him.
"Ah, I might as well make it plainly clear; from herein, we are accomplices in this matter. You are surely confused about a lot of this, but we'll save the heavier explanations for later. Right now, your observation is indeed correct. There will be a servant after us..." She paused again, "...after you. And much as I threatened you, I do need you alive now."
The woman continued across the street, seemingly aimless, but no less searching for an existing portal. Etiquette demanded that portals used to get in be the ones used to get out, lest wayward rifts form right in the faces of mundane mortals in Realspace by accident. Even moving ten feet in the Dark City could well place oneself somewhere miles away in Realspace by comparison. For the time being, the woman clearly considered it not quite emergency-enough to warrant such an escape hatch.
Little did either of the two mutual strangers know that they were heading straight for their very pursuer.
Gerome smiled, crossed his arms at his back, and casually strolled about the safehouse, inspecting items and corners with fleeting interest as he spoke.
"I am well glad that happenstance brought me here. Forgive me if this knowledge comes off as unnerving, but I can certainly sense in you already that what I need is within you. A tool, right for this job. Tell me, have you ever used that against something of greater being than the Manifestations that typically crawl out of the Dark City hole? Something more than a demon?" Gerome's eyes cast down upon Amaya where she sat from across the room. A scrutiny and analysis had already seemed to have taken place, and his impression of her went deeper than physical appearances and recommendations. She might have been exactly on the money with her presumptions. Gerome continued his sauntering.
"I imagine not, all things considered. It is so rare that gods and angels show themselves in the other world. The Dark City has a habit of showing only its worst," he continued. Roland interjected.
"Most of us are pretty vile ourselves," he scoffed, "Guess the Dark City just gives tit for tat. I'm sure a saintly mage has seen the light here and there." Gerome's expression had become flat, listening to Roland, before he forced his lips back into a lifeless smile.
"You may be right. Perhaps we can see a new saint here tonight. Ma'am, what I request of you is simultaneously the greatest thing you may ever achieve, and yet outwardly a simple matter. You can sense the strangeness in the air tonight, yes? I know of something to come, and an opportunity that may never show again."
Gerome made his way to a more open space in the middle of the safehouse, and from inside his spotless coat pulled out a small vial filled with red. It was obvious enough that it was blood inside. With two fingers, Gerome pinched the glass and shattered it. A splash and then drips of blood hit the concrete floor with faint taps. The puddle bubbled and then from it rose a tall, thin line of red which suddenly split sideways, as if parting the air itself to reveal a secret tunnel beyond.
"Within you will find the Labyrinth, not merely the Dark City. A Dungeon, and one to a very particular place. Deeper still you will find your target. It will be impossible to miss or identify. Your reward-" Gerome pulled from his coat once again, revealing a black credit card, "-is more money than you've ever held at once, I surmise. All you need to do is fell this weakened being. Simple, yes?"
@OwO
"Anyways, it's good that you're here because-" the young woman blinked, stiffened, and turned to an expression of anger all within the span of a half-second. Even for the most half-baked of mages, something as simple as a tossed mundane object was rarely simple. No, they were mediums for explosions, disguised weapons, and sometimes far worse. The snake-eyed woman extended a hand to catch the tossed can and grasped it, deftly catching it before flexing her own powers. Immense strength spaghettified the can -a strength that the woman quickly realized was unnecessary. The contents of the Value Purple Soda exploded in her face with a pitiful fizz. No magic was unleashed. No delayed curse. She blinked, and frowned, and glared.
"What?! What's with you? Who tosses a can of soda?! At least throw a spell at me, like come on!" The woman wiped at her face and then flicked her hands with a grimace. Value Purple smelled like cough medicine, and she clearly didn't enjoy it. "Damnit, my face is gonna be sticky now. No damn water in the Dark City." Tossing the crushed can, she approached Macaron with a taught, driven step.
"We're even now, though yours was definitely more childish. Definitely. Like I was saying though, you got here at perfect timing. Shit's going down already, and two bodies is better than one. I know you can toss cans, but you also do know your way around magecraft, right? Please tell me you haven't just been shirking that side of your lineage too."
@Estylwen
A red flare bore from the enchanted shadow's shifting face, its directive changed now from the mindless predation of others to a true purpose. The crawling void suddenly lurched and rose up briefly before descending upon a shadow beside it. One was but an animal, and another was now a blessed soldier. The two tangled into a storm of darkness and wailing before an obvious victory emerged. Now 'other', the unaffected shadows sought new prey. A soldier stood against a storm of barbarism.
Cygni made a motion in silence, and washed over them a spellcraft that presumably hid them to some extent. It was difficult to discern yet what, if anything, could still sense them, but the feeling of wrongness that pervaded the domain had diminished slightly, indicating that a barrier had been erected in some capacity.
Reina's signal flare had yet to produce any additional aid, nor draw in more enemies. Normally there was a contingent of dark figures and gazing eyes about Yusei's domain, vigilant against the invasion of competing divinities and skulking thieves, but the region felt empty. Only the howling of malign winds kept the trio company. Cygni remained dour and focused, the bend of his vague emotions seeming as if a cold determination. Erina by contrast was a mixture of slight apprehension and a confidence that currently stood dominant. As they pressed on, Reina eventually caught a peculiar anomaly along the way.
It seemed not unlike a crack in the wall of a skyscraper, but was cut into the side of a piece of rubble on the side of the road they traveled. Between the crack, the distinct sights of a section of the Dark City could be seen, as though she were standing within one of its buildings and looking down at an empty street. Peculiar at first, it seemed more and more common as they continued. The slices of Dark City reality became more numerous, and larger. The other two had paused, seemingly noticing the phenomenon as well.
"It is as though the Labyrinth is breaking down," Cygni stated, observing a cut into the domain that hovered at face-height some feet away.
"I was right, this is not something achievable by another mage. Not one of our lifetimes," Erina said sharply. "This can only be the work of something on par with Yusei." She looked to Reina and then Cygni, a hint of worry in her eyes that reflected in the sensed emotions of Reina's spell.
@Remram
The team broke into a hurried reaction, shifting positions, readying weapons, and scanning surroundings. The smoke from the building continued to billow, and its outermost edges sifted around the squad's boots.
"I can make it out, just barely," Rafael said, his voice struggling to maintain cool. His rifle leveled up into the dust cloud, waiting for movement from that 'thing' which was 'merely present' and yet so deadly. "I would retreat to a higher position, but you guys may need my directions here," he continued. In one moment, Dirk was standing there readied, and another, he had vanished. The smoke already saturated the empty void he had left behind.
Bel's expression was a contorted one of anger, his finger itching to loose a volley onto anything that dared to twitch. "Is this just a matter of invisibility, or are we going to have to improvise our attacks here?" he asked. If it was merely invisible, the solution was easy. If not... heads had to be put together.
"I'm afraid the latter," Rafael droned. Emma had deftly pulled a knife into her left hand and set the dog carrier onto the ground with the other. After unzipping the top of the bag a white smoke, cold as ice, evaporated from within. Her 'dog', a pact-bound familiar, manifested within the Dark City as a shapeless fog -though one could often catch a glimpse of something predatory and animalistic lurking just behind the white veil. Incorporeal as it was, perhaps it was one of the better shots at harming the Manifestation they faced.
Mathias watched the confines of the cloud, waiting for that pattern of singularly "dust-ness" to shift, and found his moment: a fracture in the pattern, less than a movement of even a single particle. The concept came rushing for him once again and with it a sensation of jaws and claws within the formless stampede.
Rafael opened fire with a single shot, himself able to see just as well. With his prompt, Bel too ripped into the cloud with a hail of arcane bullets, but nothing yet seemed to connect.
@Kronshi
Despite the fully obscuring gas mask, Ozymandias could discern -perhaps through subtle body language, perhaps retroactively in the voice of hers that followed- that the woman smiled at his answer.
"I see. An astute assessment- hey, wait," she protested as she was grabbed, but did not tug back and instead kept pace beside Ozymandias. The building had indeed shifted, and the scenery outside no longer recognizable. Though it was indeed that same sort of street as any other in the Dark City, the buildings broken any sense that he was still near where he had entered from Realspace. A glint in the sky caught his eye -a shimmer of pure red, and for a moment the sensation that one or more people on the other side of it were looking back at him.
"I'm afraid that after being displaced, I've no idea where the original portal was either," the woman said then. She retracted her arm from his grip as she took a few more tentative steps on the street. "We could form a portal back to Realspace here, if we are not afraid of potentially stepping into someone's apartment." The woman paused, thinking, before turning to face him.
"Ah, I might as well make it plainly clear; from herein, we are accomplices in this matter. You are surely confused about a lot of this, but we'll save the heavier explanations for later. Right now, your observation is indeed correct. There will be a servant after us..." She paused again, "...after you. And much as I threatened you, I do need you alive now."
The woman continued across the street, seemingly aimless, but no less searching for an existing portal. Etiquette demanded that portals used to get in be the ones used to get out, lest wayward rifts form right in the faces of mundane mortals in Realspace by accident. Even moving ten feet in the Dark City could well place oneself somewhere miles away in Realspace by comparison. For the time being, the woman clearly considered it not quite emergency-enough to warrant such an escape hatch.
Little did either of the two mutual strangers know that they were heading straight for their very pursuer.
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