Nanaya

Iris Ascendis

@Estylwen@ERode@Sifr@Psyker Landshark@AThousandCurses

AUDITORIUM

As the crowd that was promised a heroic future grew, Otis would receive a 'ping' in his mind, and he would know it was a request for a two sentence mental message from Davil. Should he accept, he would hear Davil's nervous voice plugging along, saying, "Hey, so this is prooobably more of a minor thing, chum, but I can't find the 'other' Gulliver anywhere. Not sure when it could have happened, but he's nowhere to be found in this room, at least." Davil's expression would be maintained as its goofy, happy-go-lucky self as he sat up on stage, but a small sweat drop running down his left cheek and the slightest gritting of teeth betrayed a small puff of anxiety.

Meanwhile, the crowd itself exploded with life as Otis finished his proclamation. Some expressed fear, some enraged, and others still oddly seemed to find the whole scene amusing. Magical auras and all manner of powers began manifesting across the auditorium, including faces familiar to some, such as Rio, carrying Chloe in his arms as his shielded giant slowly began to form, eyeing up a half-dozen other students, clearly exhausted. Or the pale girl with a cane, leaning near a caved-in wall by the back of the room with a halfhearted smile of bewilderment plastered across her face.

The conflict quieted, however, as the sound of footsteps clicked and clattered through the halls. Eyes of many were directed towards the entrance, where the rhythmic waltz stepped through the doorway. It was as if the rays of sunlight pouring in from the now opened windows slowly shifted towards this boy who walked through, bringing his well-dressed crimson frame into view. His each movement was as if he were walking on air, with only the loud echoing of each step giving away that he were not truly levitating. His smirk was plastic, his eyes giving way to the rising disdain he contained. Rio's expression grew fiery as he took a step forward, his giant following, but a few of the students that were previously about to attack him now held him back from advancing. Eyes focused on this red noble as he made his unimpeded advance right to the front, crowds clearing the way with a mixture of caution and worry to grant him a clear path.

With an adjusting of his collar and cracking of his neck, the boy looked upon the students on stage from below, yet close enough to jump up if he wished. His gaze met each individual, holding for exactly five seconds before moving on to the next. Any words directed his way were ignored, other students seeming to contemplate whether they should stab him in the back. "Now that his guard's down, we can pay him back," one student in the tense crowd would blurt out to another, not realizing that his voice carried much louder in the comparatively silent auditorium.

"I must say," the scarlet stranger would finally speak, his voice lined with venom as he held his stare on Otis. "This all sounds very reasonable, settling things through worth. The strong should, by all rights, deserve their chance. Upon this stage in front, and in this crowd behind, indeed - many strong souls have gathered in this place today."

With a raised hand and a fluttering cape, the boy spun such that his left shoulder now faced the stage, and his right to the crowd, while looking upon the hundreds either locking his gaze or intentionally avoiding it. "Many. Many who would see change, who may perhaps even wish to become the champions that would ensure a second apocalypse never again saw our lands lost to senseless chaos. Admirable, truly."

His eyes met those on stage, one by one once again, while he continued speaking. "Yet all of them cower, in this moment. In what should be the start of the journey that would one day immortalize them in the history books for others to learn of, or for bards to write songs of, or for yet others to shadow the footsteps of, they all find themselves timid mice in this moment. And those that puff their fur in token resistance of I, find themselves not committing. Do you know why that is?"

Finally, his serpentine visage met Otis again, a small spark igniting in his otherwise soulless self. "It is because none of them could defeat me, nor allow a single scar to blight my features. Not a loose seam, nor a speck of dust. Try as they might, I held fast against so many desperate faces across the campus grounds for no other reason than to see who among them was worthy of becoming a Wing of Nero. You may think the injuries that the chaff around us suffered were inflicted by those puppets, but kindly think again."

Keeping his gaze locked on Otis and his smile growing, the boy took to the left side, levitating upwards to arrive on the stage, as if he belonged there all along. "I will play along with this game for now, chaff, because you have amused me by reducing the grand auditorium of Wingram to a splintered battlefield. In return, I will take my spot here from on high, as the wall that none could overcome. My name is Valen Leuvalt, and it is truly your pleasure to make my acquaintance."

At that, with a finger pointed to the ground, a golden throne materialized. He took his seat, and would seem uninterested in hearing any complaints. Chaos broke once again soon after, as dozens of students began clamoring to the front to look upon those seated atop the stage as if they were a panel of judges, expressing their reasons why they should be chosen. Others, still, began searching for fragments with which to build chairs with. Rio took to a corner by one of the windows, where he simply leaned the unconscious Chloe up against a wall and pulled out a first aid kit, seemingly doing his best to tend to her even as time fought against him.

Time was ticking, but for now it seemed to be a matter of begging, improvising and talking. Davil was doing his best to remain composed, but his facade was slowly cracking, seeing pleading eyes looking to him for approval as he looked across his fellow seated to gauge their reactions.

Iris Ascendis

Sorry for the delay! Been keeping up, but yesterday was busy. Next round coming later today.

Iris Ascendis

@ERode

I'd say tackle it any way you want, and that goes for everyone! More students will definitely begin filling in at the end of my next post, so I'll probably just make it a shorter and more general round overall to allow the party to decide the flow of things once a crowd begins forming - including what they'd see or not see upon entering into the destroyed auditorium.

Iris Ascendis

@ERode

If he were to look, he'd see 9:40 AM.

Iris Ascendis

@Estylwen@ERode@Sifr@Psyker Landshark@AThousandCurses

AUDITORIUM

"Stay down... what is this? Just... just stay down...!" Gulliver's desperate pleas continued through grit teeth and bloodshot eyes as he looked upon the slowly approaching Iraleth, steam rising from his body as the last sparks crackled into nonexistence around him. She was dead on her feet, and yet the young Bronsteel couldn't help but find himself taking a slow step back as she neared the stage. "It's not right. None of this... none of this is-"

Splat.

Cut off from his own denial. Darkness. All at once, the sole light now emerging from his waning barrier of essence, only occasionally able to see the stumbling figure of Iraleth closing in slowly but surely. He tried to raise his hand to let loose another bolt, but even the act of moving his arm to perform the proper casting motions proved too much, letting loose a pathetic shock like the dying dance of loose wiring. "W-Wait... no, this can't be all there is, right? No, no, no... my essence can't be letting up so soon. Damn that Umbralist witch. I prepared for this day for months. I just need to dig deeper...!"

Despite all of the wailing, however, all of his words after the final window's darkening could only be heard by himself in his bubble of a world. To others looking upon him, they would see him flailing and screaming, attempting everything he could to turn around this cruel fate befalling him. It was only as his own voice died down that he realized how little he heard. Tears filled his eyes as he screamed into an unfeeling, unhearing darkness as he felt his barrier encroached upon by unseen phantoms. He recoiled as if being struck as he felt his Mannekin disappearing one by one, helpless and alone as his numbers whittled into insignificance in seconds.

Hildegunde was disarmed, the kimono-wearing Mannekin slapping her gun into the dark of the room while continuing his rush. With the feral tenacity of a cornered animal, the two engaged in a brief melee, Hildegunde's teeth and nails meeting nothing but sturdy wood. With the swiftness of a trained warrior, the Mannekin pushed her away with another palm strike. Taking advantage of the stagger, it would take to the air and attempt its finishing move - an axe kick directly onto her head. Before this could resolve, however, the Mannekin would be consumed by the shadows and faced the gruesome fate that the remainder of Gulliver's soldiers would be subjected to.

The sound of crushed wood and the popping of artificial limbs rang out across the darkened auditorium, the Mannekin struggling to break free and fight against this unseen force. It all proved futile, however, as this was clearly a level of offense that they were not equipped to handle. Each and every one of them was soulless, and there would be no meal for the famished darkness among the army that fell to pieces in its wake.

In the midst of all this, Gulliver with a thousand yard stare in sheer horror - mouth agape and hunched over in exhaustion upon seeing his army driven to defeat - it didn't take much to catch the boy by surprise now. "Are you really just... going to stand there?" The questioning, dejected voice of Davil would ring out so painfully close, in the condensed bubble in which the only sound in Bronsteel's world would exist. Gulliver spun on his heel in that moment and let out one last desperate bolt, a spark that acted as a glorified stun gun more than anything, and met only air. Davil sidestepped the piddling bolt with a sad smile on his face, getting close enough to the young Bronsteel to almost touch noses, looking right into his eyes.

"Because this bubble, right now, is a world in which only our voices can be heard, I'll give you a bit of advice, okay? See..."

Gulliver swung his fist, but Davil simply swatted the weak punch away and shoved Gulliver off the stage. As he fell, as if in slow motion, Gulliver's gaze was drawn to Davil's lips in this silent world between them, soon to dissolve in mere seconds. A sentence was spoken, and it was only the ill-fated Bronsteel that would hear it. Was it a separate spell from within this chaos that would allow this to transpire? In that moment it was unclear, but regardless, his brow furrowed in confusion and fear as the words registered. It was too late to worry about that now, however. The last thing he would see of his beloved stage was Davil's form, staring down at him with an emotion approaching pity.

Slam.

All at once, the barrier broke like glass, and so too did the silencing spell on Gulliver. Noise returned as his body hit the auditorium floor, and there would be one noise he would hear before all others - the approaching of footsteps, of which he knew it could only be Iraleth. He could tell she was close, and he was in a full-blown panic after being shoved off the stage. "I-I-I- Gaaaaaaaah!"

Primal instinct kicked in, and the disgraced noble began throwing amateurish haymakers into the darkness in the direction of Iraleth's approach. There was no longer a barrier. Not even the faintest glimmer of light near him. Exhausted and broken both physically and mentally, no more magic, Mannekin or defensive measures to fall back on, it would only take one punch to end his fish-out-of-water resistance.

Iris Ascendis

@Sifr

It's all good, rest up and take care of yourself. IRL comes first. Sleep, especially.

Next round will be coming up in a few hours!

Iris Ascendis

Thank you @Estylwen !
I'll try to get a post up tonight but if I am cringe and fail again Nanaya has full permission to skip me. I feel really bad but I'm mobile bound and not a good mobile types + aforementioned job and meds adjustment period.

@Sifr

Mobile posting sucks, I totally get that. I'll get to the next round if you aren't able to get a post up by tomorrow night (I'll be pretty busy most of tomorrow), but there's no pressure if the IRL situation's just not great this round.

Iris Ascendis

Davil in Otis' workshop be like

Iris Ascendis

@Estylwen@ERode@Sifr@Psyker Landshark@AThousandCurses

AUDITORIUM

The young Bronsteel's eyes became bloodshot in rage, watching in shock as his would-be direct hit towards Iraleth was redirected, the oh-so-familiar shadow witch becoming its recipient instead. "You...!" He had no time, however. There was no time, not when a voice ripped through the auditorium and threatened to pull his heart out with its cutting words. An announcement, something so mundane in comparison to the lights and shadows displacing the room and the gunshots ringing through hoards of lifeless puppets. And yet, above everything else, Chunji's words in that moment made Gulliver's blood run cold, frozen as the words shot through him as keenly as a bullet through one of his servants. "How-"

Knock knock.

"Bah?!" With a startle and a jolt, Gulliver stepped a half-inch backwards from his place on the grand stage, confused and paranoid. In that moment, Otis would also receive a pang of acknowledgement that his knock had been received by both Gullivers - the one on the stage, and a separate pulse emanating from within the core of the giant. For the Bronsteel lordling, though, there was no time to dwell on matters of less concern than the righteous paladin charging right for his giant. The clock on the Foreteller's right arm reached a rumbling repetition of ticking and tocking throughout the room, its speed now allowing a full rotation of the clock's hands every half second, sounding as if something that had long been building in this fight was about to be unleashed.

Despite this, Gulliver clicked his tongue as Iraleth rushed towards the Foreteller - whatever he was about to unleash, it wasn't ready yet. It would need a few more seconds, much like how the shutters would only need those same precious seconds to fully close and cloak the room in darkness. The pale mage would take a defiant stomp forwards as Iraleth charged, his eyes wide with frustration, his teeth baring for her as electricity crackled and danced across his fingertips. "Buzzing gnat! I tire of your flailing. Let your struggles come to a whimpering end!"

As he charged another blast, this time doubling in potency from the last, fueled by his rage, another unexpected turn would reveal itself from the other side of the auditorium. A tall figure emerged from a wall near the front entrance, breaking through with reckless abandon. As the dust from the rubble cleared, the tall and looming figure of a Mannekin wearing a chef's hat and carrying a rolling pin the size of a greatclub burst onto the scene, scanning and only catching the exit of Otis. It seemed like the Strigidae was its primary target, and failing that, stomped its foot down in quiet rage, breaking apart a floorboard as it instead turned its gaze towards Chunji. It seemed to possess some recognition of the boy's contribution to the fight, and stormed straight towards him like a raging barbarian, lunging with the speed of a charging bull and swinging its rolling pin with the fury of a minotaur. The sheer air force with each swing would seem to break apart wood and stone it might haphazardly aim at in the crossfire, and it also proved surprisingly agile, breakdancing and backflipping to repel and mitigate attacks while attempting its own counterattacks.

Similarly, a Mannekin dressed in a kimono would descend upon Hildegunde, seemingly from out of nowhere amidst the crowd of puppets and chaotic explosions, lights and ever-growing darkness. As it descended, it would attempt an open-palm strike on her, following up with a flurry of kicks attempting to strike at her torso without losing so much as a half second of momentum upon landing, ending the unrelenting combo with a jumping axe kick that it would attempt to land right on the top of her head.

The speed of these Mannekin and the other less-notable grunts scattered about seemed to pick up with each strike, and as more Mannekin fell into pieces, the remaining ones seemed to become drastically more efficient fighters.

The Foreteller, meanwhile, grew more sluggish as its clock sped up and as it received more damage, to the point where it easily fell for the feints Iraleth had baited it into - an amateurish punch that met only air as Iraleth gouged into its chest. Its plate crumbled away layer by layer, surprisingly more brittle than it looked. Gulliver inhaled and exhaled rapidly, sweating and gasping for air as his lightning charge had reached its peak. Iraleth had reached the core inside, cleaving and ripping through the gears and wiring and piercing the rubbery cocoon that dwelled in its center, pained screams emerging from the Gulliver on stage in that moment as he began overcharging himself while maintaining a hateful stare, locked onto Iraleth fully as his lightning began to shock himself, becoming a swirling ball of blue electricity. It was at that moment that Iraleth saw the Gulliver within Foreteller's core, his eyes closed and blissfully unaware as if asleep.

"DON'T!" It was all the stage Gulliver could scream as he saw his duplicate ripped from the Foreteller, which went limp immediately in that moment, an inanimate giant in a heartbeat. "AAAAAAAAAAGH!"

A stream of lightning intense enough to flash throughout the entire auditorium, blinding all in its path, became a concentrated beam of hatred-fueled force directed and arcing towards Iraleth. His scream of frustration was drowned out by the deafening sound of thunder that followed the blast, whether it hit or not. He seemed to have no regard for Foreteller, making no effort to waste time aiming around it, seemingly blinded by rage such that he was willing to scorch his guardian, Iraleth and his own doppelganger - a sorcerer throwing a toddler's tantrum.

The air was hot and charged, the wall on the other side of the auditorium slowly crumbling away from the force of the blast - a spell that would not stop at its intended target, but shoot clear through to char the opposite wall. As he panted while watching the result of his attack, his Mannekin continued their assault on their respective foes. At the same time, one more crucial factor would come into play.

Only one shutter remained before the auditorium was plunged into darkness.

JRPG-inspired magic school RP with a heavy focus on story and characters!

Aw, this looked like it could've been fun to join. Oh well, better luck next time I suppose.

If a spot does ever open up though, feel free to give me a nudge.

@Xaltwind

I may also be doing other RPs in this setting in the undetermined future when I feel confident I'm up to managing multiple RPs at once; unless it's specifically the school setting that interested you, in which case, that is unfortunate.

But I will also keep you in mind if a spot does open up!