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    1. GinookazenoJinn 9 yrs ago

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7 yrs ago
Current Is anything truly worth it if you don't struggle to achieve it?
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The play continued on as down below the scene shifted. The Rebellion had moved, this time to the northern realms, all the way to the Land of Ice. The process was described and shown to be grueling; the entire march involved several brief skirmishes as the gathering forces of the God Rulers attempted to surround them even as they pressed on.

When they finally reached the Land of Ice, the stage changed drastically. Chunks of ice began to appear as some sort of nature mage, hidden out of sight, dropped the temperature on the stage in certain places to below freezing; other mages had the difficult task of keeping the places that the actors would be performing in at a more reasonable temperature, and making sure none of the cold flooded out into the audience. It was a difficult feat of magic that could have gone wrong in so many different ways, from the ice simply melting to a snap freeze suddenly filling the entire Theater, and yet none of that happened, the ice growing higher and higher and twisting around, but never past the stage.

Marco was in awe and wonder at the magical display before them. He was interested in the play, gaining knowledge like this wasn’t a daily event. In fact, it has been ages since he had a proper sit down in a library. Rather… it felt like ages. The war, that Divine damned war, was still a nightmare in the young man’s mind. The sights, sounds, smells… None of it left him for long. He still remembers retching at the sight of the grave titan that rose up and devoured the Queen. Even with his talents, he felt useless. Helpless.

Bright eyes shined brighter as he traced the weaves of magic through the air. It took only a small dip into his mana pool, but he could see how much effort was put into the display. Frankly, it made him curious. He could only begin to imagine the feats he could accomplish with that kind of magic. However, as he touched his magic, something inside snapped. He felt a heavy jerk in his navel and a flood of tears began to pour down his face. Flashes of memories came crashing, wave after wave. He saw Kori’s broken body again, the scene of the two armies clashing, the details on the man’s face who assault his barrier like a savage… Even Thuraya’s expression at the realization that something went wrong, right before the arrival of that unholy abomination.

He was shivering, muttering spells to himself as he sat in his chair. The play, the party, everyone faded from view. He wrapped his arms around himself. A magical veil appeared around him, draping over his shoulders, as he continued to spout minor protection spells one after another. White runes appeared in his flesh to lock the spells in place. His pupils contracted to specks among fields of white.

‘I need to be protected. Help!’
‘I am so scared, I am so scared.’
‘I am lost, I am weak.’
‘I don’t want to die! I don’t deserve to die!’
‘Help, help, help, help!!’


His mind cried out as he was brought back to the day that started it all. Marco was tied to the support beam of a seaside shack, his father finding whatever stable grounding was left. The howls of demons and angered spirits alike ripped through the air. Loud cracking, either the wooden frame of the shack or the lightning across the sky, surrounded him. Marco was deafened by his own screams. He thrashed in his seat as he fought to free himself and save his father, when he couldn’t before. He didn’t change over the years he studied with his master Az’Cer. He was still a small boy, pretended to hold strength he didn’t understand.

His cries became audible as a small sound, like a wounded animal. He didn’t want to interrupt the play, however, this was a matter beyond his prowess alone.

For a moment Marco was alone in the middle of the Sentinels, rapidly losing control; and then someone heard and saw what was happening, and immediately acted with the decisiveness that only she could have. And so Diane slipped from her seat and around the rest, reaching out to grab Marco by the shoulder.

"Come with me."

She didn't wait before her grip tightened and she dragged Marco from his seat, onto his feet and past the others. She moved so quickly that she got the two of them out in seconds, before heads could turn to try and see what was happening. When servants tried to get in their way to ask how they could assist, she simply shoved her way through with derisive hmphs and pushed out into the rounded hallways of the theater.

She took him a little farther before coming to a stop, letting his shoulder go after she gently pushed him to the wall. Looking back and forth, she nodded to herself before sharply pointing at Marco.

"Go on. Cry, do what you need to do. Someone as young as you shouldn't bottle it in. So let it go."

Out in the hallway, away from the play and everyone, Marco came to terms with everything. He was an orphan. His only family passing while he was studying. He had nothing left, even though the Prince was still alive. Hells be damned, even Thuraya could leave him in a moment’s notice. He had nothing, he was nothing.

Tears began to flow steadily as his knees buckled. He slowly slide down the wall and sat, his breath shaking heavily. Marco was silent as he continued to cry. The magical veils he wrapped around him eroded away in flakes of cerulean aura. He was never a loud child to begin with and even now he was quiet; excluding the occasional sniffle or gasp for air. He wrapped his arms around he knees and lowered his head. He wanted to be small again, like he used to during the night that he couldn’t sleep in Barcea. He didn’t want to remember those nights, but he couldn’t help but feel powerless. His emotions always got the better of him.

It took several minutes for him to relax to a calmed state. Tears stained cheeks appeared as he lifted his head. He stared at the Sentinel and shakingly spoke. “W-what should I even do now? I don’t u-understand what to do next... “ He pulled his knees closer to his chest and rested his chin on top. “I should be dead, thrice over, by now, and yet here I am,” he said more to himself than to the esteemed woman. “I have been saved, time and time again... when that same effort could have been put into saving the Queen… or, or, or someone more important.” He sighed out and closed his eyes. Despite it all, he felt a weight lifting from him. Marco left… good to open up. There were still plenty of questions that he had, many left unasked.

“What do I do next, lady Diane? How do I keep living knowing that I am useless?”

Quietly, Diane stood nearby as Marco wept. She didn't look at him, giving him a measure of privacy even as she stood nearby, but her hand remained on the boy's arm throughout. She gripped lightly, not too tightly but not too weakly, a constant presence.
When he began to speak she finally looked back over, listening quietly and carefully. Her expression remained decidedly neutral throughout, her eyes not shifting, mouth remaining a simple straight line.

When he finished she suddenly moved, her free hand coming up to smack him on top of the head once, then twice more in quick succession. Afterwards her hand lowered, and she gave a little hmph, straightening her dress and sleeves a little before she looked back down to him. Her expression had shifted, showing emotion; there was a little bit of annoyance, but there was understanding there as well.

"First you should realize that you're not useless. You're young. There's a difference. You're small and inexperienced, but you're learning. You've done the best you can with what you have. Don't be so arrogant as to shoulder the failure we all suffered!"
Briefly, her voice became higher in pitch towards the end, but quickly she stopped and looked away, pressing her hand to her mouth. Her eyes didn't close all the way, but it was close as she took a moment before she looked back, and continued, "It isn't your fault that Kori is dead. It's all our fault, and none of our fault at the same time. We fought against things that were greater than us. That we shouldn't of had to fight. The fact that the rest of us survived is a miracle."

She sighed, before shaking her head slightly. "It's alright to feel weak. To know that you have room to improve. But don't you dare think you're useless. You're only useless if you give up, and if you do then you spit on the grave of everyone who came before you. Do you understand?"

One strike shook him from his pity party, the next two just hurt like hell. His eyes began to water again, but he snapped them shut as he rocked back and forth.The young boy quickly covered his head, hissing from the pain, before looking up at Diane. “Divines be damned, that hurt!” He rubbed the top of his head, trying to feel for the bump that would surely show up eventually. Already, he could feel the rush towards the point.

Though, it did help him to listen to what truth she spoke. He did all that he could do, to ask anymore would be inhumane. The fact that he felt such guilt was not for him alone to bear. Kori showed him the same love she showed for everyone of Barcea. He relaxed his pose and took a moment to think over what she said. “I do,” he spoke simply. Subconsciously, he used the same voice as he did years ago during his training. “I am sorry, to cause a scene and to have you drag me away, Miss Diane.” He rose to his feet and dusted the seat of his robes off.

He offered her a small bow and a quick smile. “My strength has only began to show, where as I have faced greater challenges that I was prepared to face. I forgot my master’s teachings during my fear, a dishonor to him and myself.” Marco was careful to speak with respect, this was a sentinel after all, but she was also a proper lady. Even if she was only a handful of years his senior, she still carried a certain elegance and grace about her. He offered her a bow and gestured for the doorway leading back to the others. “Shall we return and enjoy the rest of the play?”

”Nevermind dishonor for a moment.” Diane gave a humph, reaching up to flick her hair back over her shoulders. ”Think for yourself for a moment, and for your own sanity and health. Accept yourself for who you are now, not what you wish you were. Accept it, but work towards that ideal. Allow yourself to stumble along the way. None of us are perfect.”

”Oh, what sound advice!” Diane’s eyes widened and she quickly turned towards the new voice, which belonged to a boy in a blue cloak. Despite the fact he seemed to be anywhere between thirteen to fifteen, he was taller than Diane, like he had shot through his growth spurt. He also had strange, dark eyes; though nothing about them seemed inhuman, they looked dead, the smile on his lips not reaching them.
”Who are you?” Diane’s voice was sharp, some instinct in her telling her not to trust the boy immediately. The way he just kept smiling, even as she bristled, only reinforced that fact. The little laugh that followed, gentle and unassuming yet false at the same time, sealed it for her.

”My apologies, my friends! My name is Alexai!” He bowed, quickly looking up afterwards. ”I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. My ears are a little sharp.” He flicked at his own, lowering both hands afterwards. ”And I heard that this little mage has been having some trouble. It’s alright, I understand. I was there too. And then I just…” His hands did a little wave, even as he tilted his head. ”Got rid of my problems. The solution is more simple than you realize.”

Marco wasn’t aware of the newcomer until he spoke. It seemed as if Diane wasn’t either as both of them turned to face Alexai. The young mage thought it strange that someone who looked as young as himself could speak with such confidence, granted not everyone had his master for a teacher. “Got rid of your problems?,” he asked in honest curiosity. His senses weren’t as honed as his counterpart. In fact, compared to Diane, he was a gullible child playing at forces beyond himself.

The young mage took a stop close to Alexai, a light sparking in his eyes. “What exactly do you mean by ‘You got rid of your problems?’” Strength beyond measure, to stand toe to toe with the sentinels. Despite his timid nature, Marco was still his master’s student. He still thrived for knowledge and power that was beyond him. He was blessed, or lucky depending on your views, to meet a Divine and receive a gift… but clearly it wasn’t enough. Even with the blood magics he has been practicing day after day, he still lacked the fortitude to keep his cool during an actual war.He shamed himself and his master’s teachings. Diane’s words were touching, in her own way, but the truth couldn’t be forgotten. ‘I failed you, Master Az’Cer, I failed you and more importantly, I failed myself.’ Marco’s thoughts dripped with a toxic venom of self doubt, confusion, and guilt.

"Don't listen to him Marco!" Diane stepped forwards, one hand going out to hold in front of Marco, to try and get physically between the two boys. Alexai just watched her move and then gave a small laugh, before he took his turn to speak.

"I killed them, that's what. It's much easier than you think, and much easier after the first time. And once they were dead, I was free. Free to do what I wanted, to follow who I desired. Free to learn what I needed to learn. What everyone needs to learn. And I was able to serve my master-"

"Alexai, are you debating philosophy once again?" The voice was new, coming from farther down the hallway. Diane's eyes snapped over, and she seemed ready to snarl at the newcomer just as she seemed ready to snarl at Alexai... and then she recoiled back in horror, her face going pale as one hand came up to cover her mouth.

The man who was covered in metal armor, so thoroughly it was like a second skin, grinned as he looked down at the three of them. Dressed in Kisokan orange robes that shimmered thanks to the metal threads weaved into the fabric, creating a flame-like image, a bit of purple sludge was leaking from in between the cracks of the armor, and from his mouth; something the beautiful woman who had hooked herself onto his arm dabbed at with a once-white cloth. A blade was sheathed at his side, large and curved. He continued to speak, one hand coming up to tap at the woman's hand at his elbow.

"Oh, and not with anyone either! A Sentinel and the trainee. Diane Laues and Marco Maxwell, correct. A pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance. I am Shisor Yaguar. This is Reseya. Is the King enjoying the play? I'm excited to finally meet him."

"You're a monster..." Diane said quietly, her body still recoiled away. As Alexai began to step forwards towards her, Yaguar's hand went out, gently stopping the boy from going any farther.

"To you, perhaps. I see myself as a driven and... misunderstood man, simply trying to do his best for the world. But I'm sure my appearance doesn't help with that." He laughed.
Diane began to bristle once more. "You're terrible... You Remade him, didn't you? How long has it been since you broke him for your own purposes?"

Gently, Yaguar patted the top of Alexai's head. "Oh, it's been quite a while. Almost ten years, perhaps. My perception of time is still a little off. But do not think I did him a disservice; he asked me to. He was lost, confused. He wanted a purpose. And so I gave him one. I don't expect someone as... unblemished as you to understand. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must keep my meeting with the King." He stepped forwards, even as Diane moved to cut him off, and once more he laughed. "Ah, loyalty. To the throne, or to blood I wonder? Either way, it'll do you no good here. Stop me, and you die. Step out of the way, and... Well, you'll be available to fix the results, now won't you?"

Diane still stood in the way, her arms crossed as she fumed. Alexai, meanwhile, began to tap his foot against the ground, his smile seeming to twist into something sinister.

Marco could only blink at the response, seeing as it wasn’t something he would ever consider. ‘Kill my problems…?’ He didn’t have long to ponder on it, as Diane’s rapid movements caught his attention. If Marco had a full bladder, it wouldn’t be anymore. He felt himself grow cold as blood rushed from his face. He was staring at a legend, a piece of history. Not more than a few minutes ago, he was learning about the man before him during the play. He was caught speechless as Yaguar spoke with Diane and Alexai.
But, as the saying goes, when it rains it pours.

The boy made a small noise as he saw what could only be described as a monster approach. A giant of a man strolled up behind Yaguar, chuckling to himself. “Preying on women and children now, eh Yaguar? At this rate, our fight may not be worth it.” His voice sounded like rocks scraping against one another he wore a suit of plate mail.

This set of armor had a rounded helm with a pointed opening for the eyes, which curved downwards into a narrow opening up to the mouth. Attached to the top was a bird head shaped ornament piece. The shoulders were fairly rounded, narrow and fairly small in size. They were decorated with a spider-shaped, thick, metal ornament piece.

The upper arms were protected by pointed, fully covering rerebraces which sat well under the shoulderplates. The lower arms were covered by vambraces which have several masterfully crafted metal sheets, shaped like dragon scales on the outer sides. The breastplate was made from many layers of rounded metal sheets. It covered everything from the neck down and ended at the groin. The upper legs were covered by a chainmail skirt reaching down to the knee. The lower legs were protected by greaves which had metal leaves covering the outer sides.
He removed his helm, shaking free dark raven locks down to his shoulders. He gave the small folk, which everyone smaller than him was in his eyes, a wide grin. He stared with a single majestic purple eye. The other was covered by an ornate eyepatch that matched the design on his shoulders. He was handsome in his features, but it was the look of hunger that he stared at Marco with that unnerved the boy. This was certainly a creature that was not to fuck with.

“Why are we here anyway?”, the giant asked turning his gaze to Yaguar. “I highly doubt anyone here is worth the attention…” He paused to chuckle to himself as he thought of a joke. “Unless you are here to stroke your own ego and enjoy the show.”

As Reseya gave a disgusted, disdainful look at the massive monster of a man that stood with them, Alexai responded much more physically. He whirled, and with one step that sounded like a thunderclap moved towards the figure, but once more the metal-covered hand of Yaguar went out, bringing the boy to a stop by the sleeve.

Slowly, Yaguar looked over, and then up at the man. His grin remained, even as one eye widened slightly as he looked quizzically upwards. ”Ah, Knightmare, so pleased that you could join us! I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to decide to accept the invitation. Alexai is obvious, I could see Sawyl showing up at one point, and I’m sure Sanura is lurking somewhere already, perhaps watching our friends inside, but you… I never expected you to be a man of culture.”

It happened so quickly that Diane never saw the actual attack. She only saw Yaguar click the blade back into his sheath afterwards. To her, there hadn’t even been a turn, nevermind a slash. All the same, suddenly, a deep cut appeared in the breastplate, carving into the flesh beneath and sending blood that steamed and burned the face of the man it belonged to. The wound itself then suddenly burst into flame that curved upwards, licking at the metal even as it ate at the man who wore it. The blood that struck Knightmare’s face set his skin alight even as it evaporated, and the sickly smell of burning flesh nearly knocked Diane off her feet.

Yaguar’s gaze turned back forwards, towards the Sentinel and the boy. ”Down, boy. Remember your place, and how gracious I’ve been to you as a master.”

Even if Knightmare could prepare himself, he never was able to read Yaguar’s movements. He became aware of the strike against him moments after the Gifted returned his sword to its home. A deep snarl and his head tilting backwards was all the giant allowed for a reaction. He could feel his flesh burning, actually burning, though he didn’t mind that much. This pain was just a reminder of how far he still had to go. He continued to grin at Yaguar as his face cleared, the areas where the blood hit appearing red with inflammation still.
“Of course,” he began as if the attack didn’t happen, “I am all about expanding my horizons.” Knightmare could feel his body quaking as his breathes became harder to achieve. “Who knows, maybe I could even learn a thing or two.” He placed a hand upon his chest and offered a small bow. “Pardon the surprise, even if it is a pleasant one.”

”All is forgiven. You’ll enjoy being here, I’m certain. This announcement will be something to remember-”

”Announcement? What announcement?!” Diane interrupted Yaguar, but the man only laughed, shaking his head a little.

”Now, now, patience, Ms. Laues. You’ll learn soon enough. The sooner you step out of the way, in fact. I would prefer not to kill any member of King Serio’s little… entourage before the challenge, but if I must…”

”Get out of the way, children.” Suddenly both Marco and Diane were grabbed from behind by their shoulders, turned and swung into the wall none too gently; the woman who had done so stepped away afterwards, adjusting her sleeves afterwards. She had long red hair pulled back over her shoulders, and wore a closed white coat, dark pants beneath.

”There you are, Sanura! Had your fill already?” Yaguar stepped forwards through the space that had been created, walking towards the entrance of the very booth that Diane and Marco had come from. The woman fell into step at his side, beyond Alexai.

”Your comrade isn’t in there with them. But for the most part, the rest of them are there.”

”Of course it’s not perfect…” Yaguar sighed. ”But nothing ever is. We’ll just have to make do. Let’s go make ourselves known, shall we?”
fun fact: Yesterday (Nov. 18th) was Marco's 15th birthday~ whoo
Jesus. Jinn, chill.

Actually. Actually...

Need a hand Jinn? ;D


I mean you could always point him in the right direction, he did lose his bird along the way. Then again, his hand is ringing from the pain. Although the blood does make it a little more pinky as his pones are poking out.
For the next few days, Jinn had continued to drink and offer slurred words of advice for those willing to listen. He didn’t want to think about what happened. It happened, it was over with in his eyes. The elf was pleased to know that they would be on the move again. He ran out of booze long before they were close to the Kirun, though he did manage to gather a few mouthfuls of liquor here and there.

The day of the battle. Jinn was sipping on water and sitting by himself. He communed with his equipment, bonded over countless battles and adventures. They were a part of him and extended his senses. ‘By the end of today, there will be a change in history,’ the thought pleased him in a sick sort of way. He counted the ammunition that he had left. A handful of pistol rounds, a couple enchanted slugs, and the good ol’ peace maker that he saved for himself. He hoped that he didn’t need that one today. He took a breath and calmed his mind as he replaced each round into their magazine. “Maa over amin, Divines, e' amin hour en' anta. Lotesse lye crush lye enemies ar' avenge lye talant. .” He closed his eyes as he whispered the prayer in his tongue, each syllable flowing into the next with unease.

He kept his distance from the front lines, his gaze scanning the horizon for his target: The Advisor. Even after the hordes surged forth to clash steel against steel, he kept his arms folded across his chest. The Sentinels forced their way through, in their own search for the Advisor. Jinn could feel the energy in the air, his finger-tips twitching with anticipation. His weapons wanted to fight, they wanted to spread blood and gore like they did before. However, he continued to scan and search. He had to be patient for once... and he hated it.

He didn’t need to wait for long before he saw Christopher rushing towards a clusterfuck of commotion. Jinn leapt forward and kicked up the ground behind him as he raced to find the Advisor. His extended broadsword sung as it came to full length, a stream of crimson arcing as he rip the throat of a man that tried to stop him. Each stroke brought a fallen body. He wanted to try and conserve his energy as he reached Christopher, however things never go according to plan. By the time he reached the pair, he was covered in blood. “Sorry I’m late, had got lost on my way to see the show.”

Christopher only gave Jinn a brief glance, gaze remaining narrow from the way he had been looking towards the Advisor, but soon he was entirely focused on the enemy once again. He didn’t know all that much about Jinn yet, but he seemed intent on remaining an ally, so all he did was snort. ”If you’re only here to watch, then get off the stage.” Slowly, the young man with grey hair straightened ever slightly, cracking his neck, holding both hands down at his sides in fists. ”So, exactly what can you do, elf?”

With a bark of laughter, Jinn sheathed his blade. “Now, I didn’t want to be a main star. I don’t mind sharing the spotlight if you don’t mind a partner.” He reached into his jacket and removed his pistols from their holsters. “After all it takes two to Tango, but I am thinking this is more of a Mamba!” While he was skilled at close-ranged fighting thanks to his heritage and bloodline, he was actually more of a marksmen at heart. “Now while I am normally into whips and chains, I am guessing that I don’t want to get close to hers. No problem… that is if you don’t mind keeping yourself between us.” It felt right to hold his babies again. Their cool body felt welcoming to his palms. He could channel his magic into the chambers, at a cost of course, but he would rather be patient with that. The Advisor wouldn’t fall for any simple tricks now.

“Let’s rock this party!” he yelled out before firing off. Each shot screamed over the roar of battle around them. Hot lead flying towards the woman who caused his cousin to grieve. He wasn’t fighting for vengeance or anything that petty. He was fighting for his family and his nation as one.

”Every FUCKING time-!” Christopher yelled this as he rushed forwards. Just about what wasn’t entirely certain, but perhaps it had something to do with the fact he was the one who was, once again, running headlong into danger, lunging forwards.

The Advisor didn’t seem to care either way. Her whip snapped up, and in a strange, fluid movement she waved and turned the handle above her head; the whip itself snaked around, slicing through the air in curves directly around her, a protective coil that struck the bullets Jinn fired away… and in one case, straight at Christopher.

”Shit-” Briefly, Christopher stumbled, but his approach continued even as he shouted back, ”WATCH WHERE YOU’RE SHOOTING DIVINESDAMMIT!” With that he finally leaped forwards, towards the Advisor. She was more than ready, snapping the whip out at him, striking him across the chest and sending him back.

However, Christopher had grabbed the whip with both hands, keeping her from pulling it back in immediately afterwards. When she yanked, it was enough to drag him across the ground a full two yards, but still his grip remained tight.

”SHOOT HER ALREADY!”

Yeah, she was no pushover. Sadly, Jinn thought that the Advisor would just go down nicely. He sighed as he saw he deflect his latest shot. Truly a waste of ammo, though at least he hit one thing.

“Excuse you, that was not my fault,” he shouted back as he was already reloading. Jinn eyed one of the enchanted slugs, a small design of a cloud engraved onto the shell casing. ‘I only got two shots, gotta make’em count as much as I can.’ Christopher made the window of opportunity quite quickly. Jinn didn’t spur into motion until after the young warrior had shouted for him. ‘Maybe… just maybe that last drink was a little bit too much…’ Jumping forward, Jinn vaulted off of Christopher’s back and stood upon the whip. As unbalanced as he was, he still had skill and grace of his people. It took only a moment for him to regain his composure and aim down the Advisor.

Compared to the last shot, this slug sounded like a thunderclap. It was deafening and explosive, sending Jinn rocking back. He landed in the dirt and dust but was quickly back on his feet behind Christopher. The bullet had grooves carved out of its shell that sent it spinning, whistling sharply, towards the woman. It’s backdraft sent the bullet flying faster than even Jinn’s eyes could see easily. He had to cover his face as a dust cloud covered the pair. “Welp, let’s hope I got her. I only have one more of those.” He paused as he held up his pistol, the barrel shattered from the force of the shell. It looked like a twisted flower, utterly useless and beyond repair at the current moment. “Also only got one of these, too.” Jinn tossed the pistol away and prepared the second slug just in case.

”I’M FUCKING DEAF DIVINESDAMMIT-!” Christopher held both of his hands around his ears, having lost a grip of the whip in the whole process of the slug being fired. He rolled around, straightened up some, looking towards the clearing dust.

”... Oh, COME on already!” There the Advisor stood, completely unharmed. Jinn had missed, but not by any chance of fate; though her whip had been held by Christopher, it was a simple matter to cause it to fluctuate with a simple twist of her wrist, and at the very last moment sent his aim off. Behind her there was a broken crater, and briefly she glanced back towards it before lashing out.

The whip coiled around Christopher’s ankle, and before he could even begin to swear he was flung through the air, up and over the Advisor, and sent crashing down into the crater. There the swearing began properly, but the Advisor simply pulled the whip back towards her, holding the coil in her hand as she began walking towards the now alone Jinn.

“Huh,” was all he could summarize as he witnessed the proceeding events. “So, uh, truce? Parley? Mercy?... Not the face?” Things weren’t looking so good for the elf now. He unsheathed his blade, the steel singing as it extended to its length. He stood his ground, eased pose and lightly bounced from foot to foot. “Well I can guess from his swearing, Christopher is still alive.” He smirked and tilted his head to the side. “Why?,” he asked simply as he began to circle the Advisor.

While Jinn circled, the Advisor remained quite still, simply watching him with her eyes, her expression hidden thanks to the mask that covered the lower half of her face. ”The boy is the current pet of the Divine Ambrosia. Killing him now, while I still have business to do, will simply lead to me being caught. His death can be saved for closer to the last.”

He paused, confused look passing over his face. “So you are telling me that boy toy sir swears-a-lot over there is being watched over by a Divine?” He chuckled a bit and looked over at the crater. “You lucky sumofabitch! When this is all over, drinks at Ambrosia’s?” He wondered what kind of spirits a Divine carried in this personal stash, likely would actually cause him to blackout. However, first he had to deal with the Advisor.

From what it appeared, she was all but untouchable. He still had regular rounds to play with, along with another enchanted slug and the Peace Maker. Though he lost Cassie, his right handed pistol. He felt her scream as the slug destroyed her body. It pulsated through his soul and thankfully sharpened his senses. Maria, the left handed pistol, still remained, gripped tight in his palm. ‘How am I going to do this…,’ he thought to himself as he sized up the Advisor. He blinked and tilted his head to the side. “You know,” he began as he relaxed his stance, “from this angle, you are way more pretty than I originally thought.” He gave a smirk and thumbed over his shoulder, towards the direct they marched from. “Wanna grab a drink and forget this whole ordeal?”

”I have no interest in cretins such as yourself.” In that very instant a black glow covered the whip entirely, a harsh one that almost caused one’s head to hurt upon seeing it. With a quick movement she snapped her weapon out to the side; instead of the usual hiss of the whip, the coil sliced through the air with something akin to a shrieking sound, and when it struck the ground the rock ruptured, blackness streaming upwards like smoke.

Suddenly, she brought the whip back towards herself, before lashing out at him with an intense speed, one hand held behind herself as she did so.

Ah, this was bound to happen. The hots ones normally did try and kill him eventually, such was life. Though, the dark aura was concerning. He spun to his side, wind whipping from beneath his jacket. “A simple no would have been fine!,” he cried out after stumbling a bit. Though he managed to move in time, his jacket wasn’t so lucky. The darkness streamed upwards in a vaporous form. He quickly tore the garment off and flung it towards her, as if a distraction would help him in this fight. Maria sang her song again as the elf fired two quick shots towards the Advisor.

He had to stay in motion, he didn’t want to think what would happen if she landed a direct hit. He focused his magic inward, channeling it through his limbs and willed himself to move faster. He felt the wind carrying him as he danced around her, his every movement graceful and free. It brought a grin to his face despite the situation that he was currently in. “You know, now that I think about it? You remind me of something from my childhood.” His words were dripping with sickly sweet venom. It brought back painful memories, along with a sense of pride. “You ever hear of the term, Eyeblight?”

”You talk too much.” As he fired his shots, the whip was used defensively once again, striking short distances directly at the bullets, knocking them to the side; each bullet erupted withe the blackness and shattered to pieces. Once more, she drew the whip back, and-

”I actually find myself agreeing with her at the moment, FUCKING BREAK DAMMIT-!”

Suddenly, she had to whirl, bringing the handle up to block a double-handed blow from Christopher as he dropped down from above, having leapt from the crater from just a moment before. On the point of contact, electricity crackled and exploded outward freely even as the black energy pushed back, erupting backwards from the point of contact.

With a shove she threw him back, him landing on the ground and sliding across with both arms raised. His clothes were covered in dirt, and scuffed and torn somewhat, but he was still kicking.

“Took ya long enough, did you enjoy your nap?”

Jinn wasn’t actually sure of how long he could keep that farce up. Thankfully, he was correct in placing his faith on Christopher’s resilience and fortitude. “Christobell, you gotta be faster on your feet next time. How else would I dance without my partner?” His confidence doubled with his numbers. He began to hop from foot to foot again, his legs swinging from side to side. A stiff breeze kicked up before he ran towards the Advisor, his broadsword extending to its maximum length again. The sword hummed as as the elf’s magic wrapped around the blade, a violent surge of wind following its edge. Jinn lashed out, three swift strikes that cleaved through the air. His magic was as vibrate as a songbird’s wings, fluttering and flowing.

”Christob-?” Even as Christopher asked the question, the Advisor was moving. She dodged Jinn’s attacks with what seemed to be sudden twitches back and forth, and upon the third strike she ducked low, whirling around in the same moment to lash out towards Christopher. Really, it was his disbelief at Jinn’s general… mannerisms that got him hit in that moment, as his voice had allowed her to know exactly where he was approaching from, lashing him deeply in the chest. The scream from the whip increased upon impact with flesh, and Christopher was taken off his feet, throat rattling in surprise as both blood and black flew from his lips.

His resilience was once more underestimated by her though, because as soon as he hit the ground he was running again. An annoyed hiss left her as she quickly straightened, preparing; just before he reached him her leg lashed out, driving her heel into the still healing wound upon his chest, and once more knocking him off his feet. Even as he fell she whirled, whip snapping around in wide arc towards Jinn.

Jinn was worried about Christopher, the elf wasn’t sure how much longer the younger warrior could keep this up. Frowning, the elf dropped his usually joyfulness. He scrambled forward and slide towards her to avoid the whip’s path, the blackness grazing his nose. He had to act, there was a small window before she brought that whip back. He thrust his blade forward and the magic that circled surged in front of him. The sectioned blade broke to pieces, carried by the magicked winds. The current guided the broken blade, spinning wildly, towards the Advisor.

‘Ain’t no kill like overkill,’ he thought to himself as Maria rose into his sight. He closed his eyes and his focused his thoughts onto his pistol. He saw what Maria saw, his vision became hers. “‘Five shots,” he whispered before pulling the trigger. Maria’s song sent shivers down his spine and left tingles in its wake. The vibrations was euphoric. He opened his eyes again as the bullets were in flight. They cut through the magic current as they travelled the distance between the Advisor and himself.

The Advisor’s eyes narrowed, even as she moved. While she drew the whip back even as the counterattack came, her other hand went down, to a nearby corpse. When the tips of her fingers touched the back of the dead H’kelan man, a nasty shudder suddenly passed through the body. When the Advisor brought her hand up, the H’kelan came with it, held in front of her limply like a shield. Using the man as a shield, she blocked the bullets, before the pieces of the blade came as well, driving deeply into the body, puncturing armor with ease. With that she allowed the body to fall then, the fragments of blade being pushed entirely through upon impact. However, she had no mind for the now disposed of tool, lashing with her whip directly towards Jinn, with a quick blow.

His shocked expression couldn’t describe how he felt watching her, again, gain the upper hand on him. He felt the sharp pain of the whip cracking against his breastplate, a deep gash appearing. Crimson and blackness oozed down his chest from the wound. He laboured to breath, but managed to keep himself steady. Acting fast, he dropped his firing arm and grabbed for the whip. It cut his hand to the bone, but he refused to let go. “I may talk too much..., but you aren’t perfect either, ya cunt.”

Though it pained him to lift what remained of his sword, the elf raised the hilt above his head. As slowly as the hilt rose, the scattered blade moved as well. His magic flickered back to life around the metal, spinning it rapidly once more to tear from the body. He wore a grin as wide as ever on his face. “You continue to underestimate us.” Slashing downward, Jinn sent the blades towards her. Each buzzed through the air like a saw.

Briefly, the Advisor’s eyes widened, before she hissed. As the blades struck her, sawing into her and impaling her, she yanked her own arm back in the most violent movement she had made yet. Around Jinn’s hand the whip tightened, before easily shredding through flesh and snapping bone away as it tore his hand apart, flinging fingers in all directions. With her whip free, she lashed out again, this time across Jinn’s other hand to knock the hilt away from him before she began to walk forwards, towards him, repeatedly striking at him with her whip with each step.

He didn’t have the time to celebrate like he wished at first. He couldn’t even scream as he felt his fingers fly free of his hand. The shock was his only friend and he was alone in this new world of pain. It would seem as if Jinn pushed one of her buttons. He was defenseless as his hilt went flying. The first crack of the whip forced him to his knees, a new gash appearing across his chest. More followed as she continued her onslaught. His mouth was agape and he struggled to scream. With his last surviving hand, Jinn reached for Maria. The pistol tried to return to him as well, the magic of the object caused it to rock and shake. ‘I.. I just need one more shot,’ he thought to himself as he tried to formulate a plan of what to do next.

He couldn’t compete however. The pain was too real and it caused him to flinch. He was growing desperate, looking for a solution. He knocked Maria aside, fumbling for the switch to eject her ammunition. “I wish to be at peace…,” his speech was strained and hissed through clenched teeth. He wasn’t sure if the Advisor was going to stop him or not, but he had to do something. Bullets spilled onto the ground before him, their casings jingling like a chime in the winds. He collected what he could and rolled onto his back to face her. Weakly, he tossed a bullet at her. Followed by a second and a third. “Is that all you got in yo-” he was interrupted by a deep racking cough. He covered his mouth with his fist, manners first of course, and glared at her as the fit passed. The Advisor didn’t respond, the whip simply cracking across his face once again. He turned his head from the force of the whip, but faced her once more. Along with the fresh wound, he wore a grin as wide as a fool. His teeth held the last enchanted slug he carried, the picture of a dragon’s maw engraved. “Never underestimate us,” he stated simply before he bit down as hard as he could. A large fireball appeared, following in the wake of a dragon’s roar, and enveloped the Advisor.

The scream of the whip was silenced as the Advisor screamed out instead, one of rage rather than pain. As quickly as the fireball came it disappeared, leaving the Advisor behind; she wasn’t as burned as she should have been, but the way a black substance peeled away from her skin, burning as it did so, explained why. However, there was still plenty of places where the fire had made it to, such as along her left arm especially since she had brought that up to protect her face.

However, she was certainly alive, standing, and angry.

Jinn kept his grin as he laid, unconscious and bleeding out from numerous wounds. What skin wasn’t cut or bloody was burnt red. The pain became too much for him to remain in sound mind. Divines watch over him, in this dire hour, as the Advisor could have her way with him. Jinn, almost as if by fate or something crueler, moaned softly and his magic began to repair. He needed time and rest before he could fight again, but already his body was trying to halt the bleeding.

The Advisor brought the whip up to make a killing blow, but it never fell as a weight suddenly jumped onto her. With his arms around her throat, both of Christopher’s hands found shards of sword metal to stab even deeper into the Advisor, making her snarl and thrash back and forth. After a moment, she reached up, grabbing him by the head and throwing him around, away from her.

”Will you just sit patiently and wait to die?!”

”Fuck off, bitch.”
Jinn And Dalious





The reality of their situation came crashing down hard around Jinn as they entered a safe haven. He had seen the scene before him unfold time and time again. Honestly, he wanted to get back into the fight. Their enemy was weakened by the summoning of that beast, it would be the perfect time for a counter attack. Though, their morale was shook. Many looked broken and on the verge of tears. He didn't even want to think about how Kris felt at this point in time. He left from the others, flask gripped tight in his hand, and went about drowning these demons as well. "I hope the bastards still haven't figured out how to swim yet," he muttered to himself as he twisted off the cap. A mouthful of the sweet amber nectar greeted him always the same. It burned at first, then soothed out and tingled. It made his mouth feel numb for a brief moment, which he licked his lips and sighed happily. Elvish brandy, brewed sticks of cinnamon and fermented berries, always brought amazing stories with it.

Dalious was tending to a wounded ally as the elf approached the table. He gripped his arms tightly around the young soldier's shoulder and held firm, giving the boy a look of assurance. The soldier's look was the complete opposite, one of worry and fear, and so he asked, "You're..a...medic, right?"

"Absolutely not," Dalious replied.

"I think I'll just see the healers..."

"Calm down boy," Dalious continued. "This requires no mage to fix." Dalious pulled hard as the soldier's arm cracked back into place. He let out a whelp of a cry, then immediately started rubbing and turning it back to health. The kid gave off a groan for a thanks and then left the tent, nodding to the elf as he exited.

"As do I," Dalious said, turning his attention to the elven warrior. He pulled out his own flask of rum and clinked his, also taking a shot. The pirate was trying to take his mind off of what happened back there, trying to stay busy in helping the wounded or crafting more supplies. "We should still be back there. I feel I am not being used to my full potential!"

It was his stubbornness that got him into bad situations, and it was always the drink that got him out. Well, at least in his mind. Taking a few more hard shots of rum from his flask, the pirate calmed down. He took a nice, long breath, then sat.

"We could," he said. "The two of us. In and out, never seen. I do not know you personally, but I know the way of elves. It's in your blood. As it is in mine. Every second we wait, the enemies magic becomes greater."

He nodded to his acquaintance that rode into battle with him before hand. Jinn didn't really get the chance to have a heart to heart with everyone as they made their mad dash across the land. "A fight with a wounded mind is almost as bad as one with a wounded body," he replied with a sigh. "Not impossible, but not exactly smart either." Jinn took a seat on the ground inside the tent, his lengthy legs tucked underneath him for some comfort. "Personally, I would love to get into thick of it all." He couldn't hide his grin, his excitement to leap back into the fray. All he needed was the word.

"Though," he continued after a brief sip, "it looks like the prince is tapping out. Pity, I would have rode into the abyss and back for a chance to fight one of those monstrosities."

The elf shifted himself to look at Dailous square in the eye and raised his flask. "Name's Jinn by the way, you fought well out there. How many did you happen to take out if you can guess." What better way to bound than by comparing kill counts. It was a game in his family, back when he had an actual family. Whenever they went to arms, whomever ended the lives of the most eyeblights was rewarded.

Dalious laughed as well, something he didn't think he could do in such a sad time. Even in retreat, liquor, whether domestic, imported, or otherwise, could bring back the life to a situation. It also could bring out the worst, but the pirate tried to be optimistic in the moment.

"Jinn, I am Captain Dalious Durendail," he said. "Pleasure to meet you. My kill count rests pretty at a good 22 men. Which makes my overall 50." The pirate pulled up a sleeve to show him his tattoo marks of those he has killed. Making a mental note to mark them in before heading back into battle, or doing whatever was to be decided, he rolled his sleeve back down and took another shot. He then pulled out some of the tunalip papers he had stored in one of his many pockets, and began rolling a joint. "You?"

"Impressive," he replied quickly as his eyes slid from tally mark. He could only wonder what stories went with each marking. Where their women among those numbers? Children? Jinn had no way of really knowing without an invasion of privacy.. or a buttload of spirits.

"Well, Cap'n, I don't have much to show for my killings. Far too many to forgot, that is for sure." He grinned a bit, but none of the appeared in his eyes as he turned his vision skyward. "Two centuries I have walked these lands, from the great halls of Barcea's capitol to the lowest cesspools that Jasi has to offer. Frankly, I am tired of killing. I have done enough of it in my youth." He paused briefly to stare down at his palms. For a haunting moment, Jinn could see the blood that stained them again. No matter how much he scrubbed he couldn't wash out that brand of crimson. The red, the red that flowed through every living creature. He was shaking slightly as he closed his fists and chuckled a bit.

"I can safely say that I have at minimal four hundred and seventy-five kills to date," he continued as he brought his attention back to the captain. "Many were out of self-defense, others vengeance. Maybe even a few honorable ones here and there." He could only shrug. What was done was done. He learned long ago that you have to just accept these sort of things for what they were.

"But there is one thing that I have learned from all of this fighting and killing. For each man I send to meet the Divine, I indulge myself in the cardinal pleasures." He had a cheeky grin again as he took his last swig of brandy. He gave the flask a quick shake before placing back into his breast pocket. "I still to this day think the best time I had was at this Jasian brothel, Madien's Embrace I think the name was. They had a spread as rich as any treasure. Beauties of all kind, which is rare for Jasians, so I was surprised. I got he pleasure of being entertained by a pair of dark skinned beauties. My people's darker toned cousins actually, Ivory and Pearl were their stage names. But get this, twins they were. Well they gave me the night of my life, however I had to end it quick before high tailing my ass back home to this mess." He couldn't contain his laughter at his own story.

Despite it all, he found merry company to drink and recover with. They would have their time to strike again, but for now it would be best to mend their wounds.

"What about you, O' Cap'n, my Cap'n? You have a love waiting for you somewhere? Perhaps a fiery girl with a lonesome bed back at port?"

The elf's talk of his extremely long life made Dalious feel like such a small thing in the world. To have lived that long and killed all of those people, it only made the pirate feel sad because he knew he would probably travel a similar path if he were immortal. When he heard Jinn's overall kill count he had to add, "Maybe it was 53.."

Taking a few puffs from the joint, he passed if the elf was willing, and gave a good smile to the subject of woman. His smile quickly faded as the question was asked, and he took another long shot of whiskey.

"I was in love once," he said. "Her name was Sari. She was a...merchants daughter in my little watering hole of a town. She caught me stealing, and then we fell in love. Her father, the baron, caught me stealing as well. It was only so long before he tried to chop off my head, but Sari talked him out of it. She was good like that, mate. Instead, I was banished and she snuck out with me. We stole her father's ship and set sail to rule the world together."

Dalious took another hit, then finished off his rum.

"Instead, we ended up in the wrong crew," he continued. "She was taken from me by men that I had done many jobs with. She was tortured and killed in front of me. I was tossed overboard nearly dead already myself. Vengeance kept me alive. Long story short, I butchered every last one of them. Those I let live became my crew. Those that became my crew ended up betraying me anyway, so I suppose the point is don't trust a fookin' pirate. Except me, of course. I'm trustworthyish." As he spoke, he pointed at the first tally on his arm indicating that was his first time killing, and then went on to point down the line as he continued to speak. "Anyway, I know how the prince feels having someone taken from you right before your very eyes. And since I have nothing left to live for, I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure Cyril gets his vengeance!"

If offered something as precious as this, one does not turn it down. He hadn't preformed at his best last time, but last time no one could have seen that coming. After three long hits, Jinn's lungs cried out. He hacked and wheezed, but enjoyed it nevertheless. "Whew! That's is strong. Divine bless this root!" He offered it back to the captain as he listened to what remained of the pirate's story.

"The ones that know the price, know full well what comes next. Be it Vengeance or Pity, the boy prince is now king of these lands. He best come to power soon, unless someone else takes it from him instead." Jinn raised a hand to try and suppress another cough, his mind wandering a bit. "You are a trustworthy man, honest when you need to be to say the very least." He looked again to the man, sizing him up under his gaze. "Your soulmate, Sari, she would be proud I am pretty sure. Whatever may come next, it will be good to see how high we can bring our kill count." Slowly as he could, Jinn struggled to his feet. He throw out an arm to catch himself before he stumbled all over.

"I should check on the others, I am sure that more than a few need our support." He smirked and looked back at Dalious, offering a two finger salute. "Knowing my cousin, she likely wants something to take her anger out on. Looks like it is time to annoy her. Good day mate, I'll look for you on the next battlefield."

It had almost slipped the pirates mind that the prince would be king, if the lad could bring himself up to it. There was no one he could think of that suited such a role better, the kid would make a good king.

Dalious couldn't hold back his smile from the elf's comments about Sari, as he hoped he was right. She would be proud, now that Dalious was fighting for something he believed in, rather than thieving and raiding for himself like the days of old. He gave off a salute as well as Jinn exited the tent to help the others, which was something he probably should be doing as well. He finished off his dragongrass, wiped the remaining blood from his cheek, and exited as well. There were many wounded, and not enough healers around, so the pirate found the next person he could tend to and went to work.

is there anything better than hard liquor and narcotics?
You be my huckleberry, I will be your Sawyer. I will pm you the details about what I had in mind.
Before I continue to draft up my response, would anyone care to collab afterwards?
@Sol Grim

I feel the same way honestly. With how often I fuck up on spelling and grammar, having that character tab has been a godsend.
Or knowing @The Darklight Project, a gift from the devil

Marco Maxell




Sleep did not come to the boy those nights, nor would he rest easy ever after this for years to come.

He had spent most of the day before their hard march in private. from mending his hand to continued studies on this gift he had received from the lady of the house. It kept his attention and raised more questions than answers. Instead of bother another with his seemingly endless questions, he made his way to the library again. He didn't need any guidance this time, his mind was set on what he wished to learn.

"Lady Renata didn't seem to mind if I read from her collection. I wonder if she will mind if I take some tomes with us." He paused for a second as he reached for a book. "Us?", he asked briefly before shrugging the notion off. It was strange that he choose that word, though perhaps he was just tired from the recent blood loss.

It took some time to track down the tomes that he desired, though he did not know if they were the correct tomes to begin with. By the time he left the library, he was carrying a stack of tomes as tall as he was. He was forced to use his telekinetic magic in favorite of his physical strength being sub-par. He had answers that he needed to find on his own.

He had not seen battle in his life. Until the raid upon his new found him within the sturdy walls of Castle Barcea, he had lived much in peace. He worked as a simple farm hand in his father's shadow long before realizing his natural talent. Often at times he wasn't sure if he was gifted by the divine or cursed in some cruel manner. With the loss of his parents, he was alone in this world. His master all but abandoned him and now the women responsible for his care was in danger.

Marco was shocked by the news delivered by the elvish trio, but then he became enraged. He had lost too much to just stand aside now. If Queen Kori was willing to sacrifice herself for the good of her people, it was then the people's duty to give themselves for her. He would need to leave most of his belongings behind, except of course for the dagger he aquired and his own personal tome. He needed to ride light to keep up with the others, seeing as he rode a small pony compared to their horses. He felt himself tire as they rode through the night back toward the capitol, back towards the fray once more. There wasn't much he could do to complain, the others were just as worried as he was if not more to be honest. He didn't want to hold them back, or think about what would happen if they were too late. He could not dare sleep, instead insisting to just practice his spells in silence. The tone of their group was grim indeed. He suspected that many would perish before this was over.

He found rest where he could, from the back of his saddle to their small camp where no one dare to light a fire. He was cold, sore, and irritable... no different than anyone else he was certain. His only solace to the situation was the fact that he still had coffee. While studying in his free time, he discovered a recipe for the delicious beverage that could be brewed with cold water. It wasn't exactly what he wanted, but beggars shouldn't be choosers.

As others came back to the group, with news of where their Queen was being held, Marco mentally prepared himself for the worse. He got some of the rest that he was missing, for his mind finally quieted the storm of thoughts that assaulted him. The others would rise him for when danger came their way. He slept for most of the day and long into the evening. He rose just before dawn, though he remained quiet as he laid on the cold ground. "Today is the day, Divine watch over us..." he muttered to himself as rose to brew what was hopefully not his last pot of coffee.




Jinn Sagaro


Despite everything, Jinn was all whimsical lyrics and hearty tunes. He kept to himself as everyone got themselves ready for what was coming next. Warriors inspected equipment, honed edges, and steeled themselves for the slaughter. The faithful prayed to whatever Divine would hear them, and perhaps to those that wouldn't as well. Jinn, however, did neither. Instead of checking his bullet count for the Nth time, he whistled as he rolled up some of his smoking leaves. The anticipation of it all put everyone on edge and it was pissing him off. 'I mean come on, it is almost like everyone anyone can die. To be fair, we don't know if she doesn't have something inside of her that could kill her any other day. We might as well walk in here and prepare for the worst while hoping for the best,' he thought to himself as he slid his tongue to seal the wrap. "Wow, that was fucked up... even for me."

He didn't get far into his smoke session before it was time for them all to move on. He was in a haze through the entire process, so he didn't exactly pay attention to what was going on. Why was he here again? Last thing he remembered was being waist deep in poon, drenched from head to toe. It would be a glorious day, why would he ever leave that behind...? Fuck if he had it his way, he would be back in Jasi with his son trying to make it big n his own. Fuck his father for trying to limit his growth in just Barcea of all places. Like, yeah it is a fun country. It was green, which is nice, but where were the bitches?! Everyone woman he had meet here was either a prune or married and a prune. Not like those Jasian's though. They knew how to party!

He was slow to react as the others answered the Prince's call. As everyone sprang into action, Jinn yawned and began to look around him. Between all the screams of terror, bark of orders, and explosions, Jinn found himself quietly mumbling to himself about something other another. He was in a stupor and it felt nice, he didn't want to leave it behind... until a arrow whizzed past and sliced through half of his air.

He let out a primal roar, swearing every Divine on the list, before drawing his pistols and pulling the trigger. The chamber flashed brightly before a burst of his magical talent went flying forward. It pierced through armor and flesh alike, leaving smoking holes in the bullets' wake. "Oh right, that is why I am here! Don't worry guys! I remember now!" The high he felt faded with the pain he felt, glaringly clarity replacing quickly. His body count quickly climbed as he gunned down anyone who dared moved forward to stop him. Around his tenth kill, his right pistol jammed. Cursing his luck, Jinn dropped both firearms and went for more direct forms of fisticuffs. He quickly sidestepped spear tips and launched a devastation right hook. The ground jerked and shot forward with his fist, a large rock flying towards the crowd that blocked their path. Runes on the back of his gloves burned as he tapped into his magical talent. His smirk returned as he hopped from foot to foot, taking up a boxer stance. He cobbled foes left and right, shattering ribs and skulls with each lobbed punch.




'Oh Divine, this is insanity!' Marco thought to himself as everything suddenly exploded into motion. He thought he had the gall to fight through this. He thought that he could be a warrior like the others. He wasn't strong, he wasn't able to fight this war. The boy found himself stepping backwards in fear, trying to run away. He stumbled over a fallen body, he wasn't sure if it was a civilian or not. He felt tears well up as his vision blurred. He tried to blink them away as he wanted to find his footing beneath him. He turned as someone screamed bloody murder in his general direction. He watched the man armed with a vibrant axe charge forward, fury clear on his face. "NO! PLEASE! I DON'T WANT TO DIE LIKE THIS!", he shrieked in fear and threw up his hands. A barrier appeared around his body to protect him, his magic surging through his body. He wasn't sure of how long he could keep this up. Each blow this mad man struck sent crashing waves against his mind, already he was growing weak.

Thuraya's gaze turned from their place on the civilians fleeing, upon hearing the younger male's voice. Tail coiled and quickly she made her way to his side. A battle cry of her own letting loose as her sword dragged along the ground for a moment, the word "up" leaving her as she flung the sword from it's place in the earth upward, a short pillar came between Marco and the man wailing on his shield. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size!" she yelled, before her sword crashed through the earthen pillar she'd made, scattering the rocks as bombardment against the other. "Marco! Are you alright?" she asked, gaze shifting down to him only for a moment before back to the man. He came again, but quickly she crouched, thrusting her tail into him; veins revealing themselves quickly across what skin they could see, and he fell, her tail coming back, still dripping with venom. Sigh sighed softly, holding a hand to the young magician, a small smile coming across her lips. "Can you stand?"

He sniffled and took her hand, the shield fading at the same time. "I-i should, yes. I-i'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you any troubles, I don't want to be a burden... but I-i-i don't know if I can do this, Thuraya. I am not a warrior, I am a scholar by nature. I should be fighting a inkwell open, not ripping a man's chest open!!" He felt tears forming again as he body shook and trembled. He almost fell to his knees, defeated before the battle even began. He stared at the body of the man that assaulted him briefly before he looked around to the chaos around him. "How could I survive in this hell?"

Simply, the scorpionfolk looked at him. Her expression becoming more kind as she let her hand's grasp tighten around his slightly. "No one is making you fight... If you can't, you can't. It's not your fault; here.. come with me, you can help me get those not tied to this battle, to safety."

He felt a small smile come to his face, a hand coming up to wipe away tears that still cling to his cheeks. "S-sure. Sure. Fine, thank you. It will be better this way, I am certain." He didn't let go of her hand as he steady his stance. He followed after her, his hand pressed against his heart. It felt pained as if it was going to try and burst from his chest. He would do what he needed to do, even if it was just helping to get everyone innocent to get away freely.
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