4458/Children of the Grave

Children of the Grave
Date of Scene:	24 August 2016
Location:	Starting Nexus
Synopsis:	Aborted Random Scene
Cast of Characters:	975, 1008, 1006, 992, Kotone Yamakawa, 984

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Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
In ancient times, when an invading force was preparing for battle, it would 'gird its loins'. This was literal, in terms of armor, but also metaphorical; They'd rally. There'd be a final celebration, a chance to reconcile with past grievances for the man who would be shielding your flank. A chance to leave behind lovers with children to carry on your name. In essence, a party, but one of grim proportions.

If there's one thing you can say about the Drowning Doom, it's that they love to flip the fucking script. Because this? This is a PARTY. A mosh, a grind, a head jammer, an ear exploder. Sunk so far out in the desert that it could be called a Burning Man, the Drowning Doom's stage lights flare and flash in the air while milling mobs of the crazed undead and the allied (But likely equally crazed) hit hard to the steady heart beat of heavy bass. METAL pounds the air, reverberating, giving power to thumping speakers and swinging spotlights without the need for mortal cables or generators.

Vehicles of all sorts are piled haphazardly around, most of them with crackling and rattling engines, fire pouring out of oversized exhaust, blowers howling as they suck in sweet air to feed the flames of Ormogodden's strength. Ghosts scream and cackle, NecroMoshers bounce off one another with sparks, and a general air of good times-bad times.

If that wasn't enough of a draw, storm clouds continually circle and thicken above, punctuating cymbal crashes with forks of lightning that leave darkened glass in the dead, bone littered sands.
Drowned Ophelia can be seen on occasion, sitting on the edge of the stage - her chin on her fist, eyes bright against the backdrop of her dead blue skin and black tear streaks. Don't call it a soiree. Don't call it a grave. It's the future you fucking choose.

Also there's a real good chance they might break loose and get brutal on some civvies neighboring the desert, who fucking knows. If Drowned Ophelia were good at making plans rather than wanting to just share her misery with the multiverse, she'd probably get a lot more done.

Argast Wyrdseeker (1008) has posed:
    Amongst the revelry, another aspect of the drowning dooms march makes itself known. With the slam of a staff and apparent crack of lightning, the agents of Chaos appear. "Always one for a party, aren't we?" Argast asks aloud. while some of his warband simply scoff or laugh in maddened anticipation, the follows of Slaanesh jump right into the moshing. After all, they did follow what amounts to the Prince of Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.

Razel (1006) has posed:
It takes him back, it really does. Back to the days when humans still walked the earth. This was the sort of thing they played. The sort of music they enjoyed. And as much as Razel acted like he didn't want anything to do with the humans of his world, he really missed them. He'd once been one of them, after all. Perhaps even the many millenia couldn't completely kill the humanity within him...?

Pfff. As if.

And just why is Razel here? On the off-chance that Drowned Ophelia's party angered some of the natives in the area! He is a beast that feeds on rage, after all. That was the whole reason he'd decided to tag along, after all. The Drowned Lady might look to share her misery with the Multiverse, but there will probably be some people that will take exception to that...

He smirks a bit at the display, floating in a partly reclined position in the air. "...Kaltz would have loved this..." he comments, to no one in particular. The smirk widens. No, he knows Kaltz would not have loved this. Despite being the Devil of Grief, he disliked what he had become, and was not so steeped in his Sin that he could enjoy it. But it would have been fun to tease him. Alas.

Oh and yes. The partiers might also include some real cat-people, too. Razel's got a handful of minions here too, just in case. And Razel's world, Shisa, contains only Ribika and demons. Ribika are, of course, the proper name of the cat-people that populate his world.

Sigrun Stem (992) has posed:
The Drowning Doom may be comparable the the Burning Man in its ability to drive away people who are not into that kind of festivity. That's about where the similarities end, and Sigrun has been keeping an eye on any news surrounding the doom.

The Queen of Tears didn't quite leave the impression that was desired the last time the two met, and Sigrun remains confident that this is something to keep an eye on...

... and to keep the blessed silver on hand when around.

So, when she heard of this party, she took the opportunity to close in, just far enough away and just out of the way enough to be little more than a boring speck in the distance, trivial to miss.

She's got her eyes on the party, vision augmented by the red rings made of magic floating in front her eyes, rings that focus her vision.

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Flesh Doll had only been given life a short time to go but the stiched togehter woman born of the sea of Tears seemed to begetting into things quite a bit. She wore half a ripped black tank top. tight pants and her exposed skin was covered in stiche and very strange occult tattoo work that glowed a faint purple. She didn't seeme dto be in a bad mood she was in quite a good one as she hung out around Drowned Ophelia and smirked a bit.

"My Lady, so soon we shall make the rest suffer as we have...."

Though there was a very odd things this strange patchwork woman looked a hell of a lot of like and /sounded/ just like Kotone Yamakwa.

Karal Rei Lin (984) has posed:
Through happenstance, one oddball warrior was passing through a desert town when the strangeness happened. One thing lead to another. Old ladies proclaiming about evil omens and a few jumpy fortune tellers was enough that...

    ... ... that one person has actually taken the omen seriously and... gone to investigate. Despite it being way out in the desert.

    Karal Rei Lin has perched herself on a dune overlooking the... incredible party. A kind so alien to her sensibilities she's not even sure this noise qualifies as music, for all it has a thumping beat she can FEEL through the sand, in her bones.

    Damn what a beat. Against her better judgement she fidgets to the beat, fingers tapping at the sand...

    All the while, she scans the goings-on with a pair of binoculars that just don't mesh with the fantastic old world getup she's wearing...

    "What in heaven's name IS this gathering? Some... freaky... war dance?" She can just gape. It's all she can do is gape, worry, and wonder.

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
If Razel was a rage leech, he'd be getting a fucking feast of Drowned Ophelia. She -reeked- of it; A deep, hateful, hurtful loathing tainting every move, every glance. The black claws twitching when Agrias appears, the brittle white smile for the chaos wizard. "Called it a study in suicide; Everything in the universe will grow cold and empty before I'm done. So if nothing matters, might as well fucking enjoy myself, right?" The cold laughter of the Queen of Tears, before she stands up. The ichor of Black Tears pouring from her, a strange ectoplasm somewhere between liquid and smoke - forming clothing, forming claws, forming every bit of her essence, right down to her literal stone heart.

The Slaneesh will at least enjoy themselves; Smash a NecroMosher to pieces, and the undead freaks just pull themselves back together and smash back. Can't spell violence without love, after all, and who doesn't love a good thrashing?

And then there's Flesh Doll. The stolen bits of Yokone, sewn together with Ophelia's hair and flooded in sorrow; The flesh always remembers its scars, after all. Clawed fingers stretch out, brushing briefly along the bizaare creature's shoulder. "Yeah... they'll hurt. They'll hurt just like we do, won't they? And you're gonna find that bitch who stole you away. And take it all back." Black tears roll down Ophelia's cheek, claw trembling briefly.
"We're gonna fucking hurt them all."

She stands up, quite suddenly, the Six Stringed Sorrow bubbling into existance in her claws. A look of mad glee on her face as she picks up the pace of the song. The METAL responds, hammering drums picking up the pace quite suddenly, the whole DEATH PARTY gaining momentum as the undead freaks, cats, chaos warriors and miscellanous respond. Those in the know? They show the ultimate respect to Ormogeddon, the Cremator of the Sky:
They throw horns with finger and pinky outstretched.

THEMESONG CHANGE: 'Thus Spake The Nightspirit' - Emperor. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EklLgmAYFBg

Firepots explode along the stage, heading towards the center - and when it reaches, glowing skeletal horses leap forth. The Reapers. Ridden by classic robed skeletons, who cackle and scream as they stampede through the scrambling crowd, and out to the desert itself. Leaning forward as they laugh in their mad, deaf forward momentum.
"It's time for a fucking -distraction-." Declares the Queen of Tears, gesturing with her clawed hands. "Catch the Reaper and keep the skull; Winner gets the town over there.." She flicks a clawed finger dismissively towards the distant lights of the desert town with it's old women and evil omens.

'Heads' up, Sigrun and Rei! Looks like the Reapers are scattering outwards into the desert - and some are heading for both of you.

Argast Wyrdseeker (1008) has posed:
    Argast smirks as his slaaneshi warriors bash into the undead, and watch them knit back together. "A little distraction could be fun..." He says. With a snap of his finger emerges his hellsteed. A horse of black fur, but with flames burning from it's hooves, nostrils, eyes and tail. "Maybe I'll offer the town to Tzeench..I am sure that the changer of fate will enjoy having new souls..." He says with an evil laugh. But after that, he mounts up and takes off.

Sigrun Stem (992) has posed:
Incoming is never fun, but Sigrun isn't too concerned, just yet. She's a stalker, a skulk, and the desert is an area she's all too familiar with for that kind of thing. She activates some passive spells to guide her steps, to help her stick to areas where she's likely to to be unseen.

She hasn't yet heard what Ophelia commanded, but she can tell trouble is brewing, and she needs to know more before she acts.

Razel (1006) has posed:
Oh yes, the feast from Drowned Ophelia is the main motivating factor. Her parties are quite loud, and finding one isn't hard. Add to that the fact that Opehlia's rage herself is to Razel practically the way that silly cartoon mouse is to the smell of cheese. Such a banquet of wrath! This may explain why Razel's reclining so-- he's probably feeling quite relaxed due to being full. He doesn't even have to be active in collecting it (which Ophelia would probably very much dislike); just hanging around her is enough; passively absorbing it is enough.

When Ophelia stands and summons her guitar into existence, the cats do know something's about to happen. Though they emulate the gesture more then understand it. Looks like ears to them, so it makes sense! The challenge is issued... and the cats all look to Razel. When he nods, they shriek in glee and go chasing too.

They're not aware of anyone out in the desert just yet. So chasing some of those Reapers are several cat people! They leap and dart back and forth like something with the strength and agility of a cat. But there's a fire burning in their eyes, both literally and figuratively-- a mad gleam, and some may literally have flames coming from their eyes. Male and female both, dressed in black and dark, bloody red, their faces covered so only their burning eyes and their black ears and tail poke out.

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Flesh Dool was in good spirits as others would start appearing osme might be allies othere were not, and she had no idea but she didn't care she did notice the followers of Chaos here and gave no damna about it, if they wanted to roll with them? The more the better to make those who'd wronged them suffer like they should.

"Pain is what let you know you actually exist, they should be thankful for that don't you think and I'll get back what was /stolen/ from me. I will be whole again."

The show then really takes off and she head bangs along with the music until the ueen barks out some orders.

"A hunt it is? Then shall we?"

With out waiting Flesh Doll bolts off un the hunt for Sigrun and Rei. She was going to enjoy this as she pulled her wepaon which looked like some sort of Arcanite Ripper.

Karal Rei Lin (984) has posed:
Oooooooooooh boy. BAD THINGS ARE APPROACHING... and headed straight for town. WHAT should she do?! Even for her, with sunlight burning in her veins, yearning for glory... ready to smite the darkness and teach it to FEAR and RESPECT the living, sink into the peace of Lethe...

    Sheeeee's not so sure she can take this many. Or what would happen if a fight started. On the other hand....

    On the other hand, SOME ARE COMING RIGHT HER WAY...

    And that way lies a town.

    The redhead grimaces, but plants both hands in the dunetop and forces herself up, tucking the binoculars away...

    She's breathing hard, holding in panic and fear. But at the same time...

    RUNNING AWAY now and letting this just happen... is unthinkable. A waste of the gift she was given... a betrayal of it.

    So she rises up to her full height and raises a hand towards the skies.

    DAWN'S RADIANT LIGHT springs into existence from her palms, burning bright like a torch through the gloom. Liquid light gathers and congeals, shaping into a slightly curved... yes, it's a sword. Resembles a katana, but heavier built, slightly longer.

    And it's not the only thing giving off that light. The gloom's been banished across the ENTIRE DUNETOP by the filmy white-gold corona of light lazily swirling around Karal Rei Lin's body. Naturally, a sunburst mark shines on her forehead...

    "Turn around and take your party a different direction!" She warns the approaching skeletons in a thunderous voice.

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
Drowned Ophelia's chin rises, that cold little smirk working its way across her features as the DETH PARTY begins their pursuit of the Reapers. Sacrifice her own units for a brief amusement? Why not! It's not like she held some deep love in her for their well being, b-baka.

No, she really didn't. Narcissitic nihilism - only her pain mattered. And if she was going to hurt, sure as hell everything around her was going to hurt just as much. The smile fades as the Reapers spread out and the ravagers give chase. Skeletal hooves pound the sand, glowing trails left like neon lights through the stormy gloom, chased by a chaos wizard, crazed wrath-induced cat folks and a Black Tear empowered echo of a better woman. The Reapers had a good head start, the skeletal horses snorting cold steam into the air - but it's only a matter of time before the rest of the party can catch up and tear them to pieces. For their skulls, of course.

A few leap boldly over Sigrun as she lays prone, practically invisible beneath her concealing spells. Arms swing outwards, massive glowing scythes held in hand as they wheel in a long circle around. Mad skeletal grins do not waver, nor do the headphones on their skulls - keeping the pounding rhythm of DEATH METAL rattling in their brain case. It was a thrash, after all!

Which is when someone PRAISES THE FUCKING SUN HOLY SHIT. The Queen of Tears puts a hand up and over her face as she squints into the sudden bright light, like a radiant torch on the hillside while thunderous clouds twist above her. The people of the town behind taking the cue to start evacuating - she may not hold forever, but she may be able to hold -long enough-.

Which is when Drowned Ophelia claws begin striking the chords again, something dark and grim, hair trailing over her face as she leans forward. The guitar practically at her knees as she plays, the storm clouds above her thickening and twisting upwards;

She's preparing something big juuuust for the exalted...
"Looks like we've got a -hero-" She begins, practically spitting the word with distaste. That cold little smile crossing her features. "New game - bring her up front and we'll let that bright bitch drink deep of our hate.."

Argast Wyrdseeker (1008) has posed:
    Argast was charging forward until he saw the massive sun appear from nowhere. He turned his steed around and grinned. "I have been curious how this transformation occurs." He muses softly. In his hand, he gathers up winds of magic for a fireball. "To see the bright sun fall dark....How poetic. Surely Tzeench will approve."

Razel (1006) has posed:
Razel's attention is drawn by that sudden flare of light atop the dune. And just as quick he has to look away. Not for the brightness, no. Because it's PURE, and the only thing 'pure' about him is how corrupted he is! It hurts to look at! Several of the approaching cats have to shade their burning eyes from the light. Razel shifts to 'stand', though still floating. He moves to Ophelia's side as she points out the 'hero'. "But it's a fine word to carve on someone's tombstone, isn't it?" he remarks with a smirk.

And then Ophelia changes the rules of the game. He nods, and then says quietly, "...Put out that light. And the one holding it." Somehow the cats hear. They break off chasing the skeletons and try to make a circle around Karal Rei Lin. Like earth cats hunting together, each is trying to cover a flank that another can't.

They don't attack just yet, but they're positioning themselves. Places to hide might be a bit scarce around here, but if there are any, they're finding them, seeming to disappear to normal sight. These cats are used to hunting. And they do possess the hunter's instinct, like an earth cat. These are small-type cats, too... the ones that are well-known to their love of playing with and torturing their catch...

Flesh Doll might find herself with some allies, too! There's a couple of Razel's minions near her, one on either side. They're giving her plenty of room, though, since her weapon looks bloody dangerous. Most of these cats possess only metal claws over their fingertips or swords. But they're strong and fast, not just naturally, but strengthened by their worship of Razel.

For the time being Sigrun is left alone by Razel's minions, as she's not doing anything to interfere at the present. Also her spells seem to be keeping her well-hidden from the eyes, noses, and ears of the Wrath Cats for now.

Sigrun Stem (992) has posed:
Sigrun keeps hiding until she's clear, and then decides to take a gamble. If things are going to turn into a fight, well... she's got some arrows with a particular drowned lady's proverbial name on it. She sneaks towards a good spot, still keeping up the magics that help her hide away from the enemy.

Then she aims, that magically hardened silver arrow, blessed by a priest, is aimed for the queen of tears, for that frozen heart Sigrun knows so well can melt given the right incentives.

When it flies, it flies swiftly, guided by magical winds that speed it up and direct its path, without ever going fast enough to cause a noise louder than a gentle whistle. This is still quite fast, easily enough to pierce an inch of steel.

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Okay so Flesh Doll wasn't after Rei and Sigrun. She didn't even know they were there, to be perfectly honest about things. he wanted to catch the target and get the reward but there would be something else she was not expecting here as she comes towards the bruning light that is Karal Rei Lin.

"Oh really and what are you going to do about it if we don't?"

She smiles and it'sd not a king one at the Exalted which has got in their way.

Karal Rei Lin (984) has posed:
Ooooh this looks BAD. Pretty damned bad.

    Lin grinds her teeth TIGHTLY enough one wonders why they're not shedding sparks. But she drops smoothly into a warrior's stance, moving the torch-like blade to her side as though sheathing it. A sword-drawing stance if ever there was one.

    Approaching her is peril. This becomes incredibly, terrifyingly clear to those circling, looking for an opening... a vulnerability.

    For another swordswoman, there might be. For this one though...

    Her simple stance contains a certain ASSUREDNESS, a thoroughness that reaches past the merely physical. She's not just ready for a tussle, but ready in eight directions.

    And every time those passing behind contemplate darting in... whatever warrior instincts they have tingle with vicious mental images of drawing an instant reaction.

    There's no opening to take advantage of here. The front is as good as the back as the top or bottom.

    "Heh. I'll show you the results of my last month of training, that's what."

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
Drowned Ophelia's arched back begins to straighten as she plays, eyes closed; Lightning licks along her fingers, dancing from string to string of her vicious spider-bodied guitar, the blue wake candles burning as bright as torches. At Razel's words, she cackles loudly, her hair drawn out and fanning around her in a wind all her own. "Oh, she won't rest when I'm done; I'm going to count every. Fucking. Bubble. That slips past her lips..."
The sound suddenly steadies out and jumps to a higher octave as Ophelia finishes straightening up - and begins leaning back, eyes flicking up to the clouds above.
The storm clouds roll and twist upwards, an inverse tornado - before they begin to break. It's not warm sunlight - but cold, freezing moonlight that comes through. And not Earth's moon either, the wine stains forming the iconography of the top half of a grinning skull.

Oh yes, Ophelia learned -lots- from visiting Stygian MIrror's world. DEATH METAL hammers away, drawing the BRUTAL MOON's image from the sky. For even the sun must be eclipsed! It is an unholy and wicked thing she is forming, and it's sure to push some shit in. But just as she's reaching the crescendo of her solo, ready to shatter the aegis of LIGHT with the kiss of ENCOMPASSING GLOOM, the Six Stringed Sorrow lit up like a live wire -

That Sigrun strikes. The Six Stringed Sorrow shatters like glass, the METAL stumbling and subliming without the direct hand of the Queen of Tears upon it. It was only luck she twisted when she did, a gaping hole torn from her side - and from it, black ichor pumps, smoking as if touched by acid.

And Drowned Ophelia shrieks her rage, and her hate. "YOU! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!"
Yeah. She's distracted.

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
Oh, and the clouds close back over the BURUTAL MOON, the freezing rays of its touch disappearing once more behind the crackling storm.

Argast Wyrdseeker (1008) has posed:
    Argast laughs and hurls his fireballs towards Karal. "Come then, Hero! Face the speaker of Tzeench! Let chaos devour you!!" He screams out. His horse roars out with a demonic cry, and his warband roar in sheer revel and abandon. Chaos did enjoy it's parties like this.

Razel (1006) has posed:
The cats surrounding Lin are indeed smart enough to realize that somehow, she's got all her own sides covered. How? It doesn't really matter. Ther hunters' instincts are strong enough to know not to approach yet. No, while they don't attack, they seem to pace like great tigers around her, in chaotic ways. Their own rage is pretty clearly felt even by those not capable of feeling the magic that binds them to Razel.

Speaking of the ol' Rage Leech, Razel's standing near enough to Ophelia that he notes the sudden change in her posture when the arrow strikes her guitar. And it won't take him long to realized what just happened. Particularly not when the Drowned Lady shrieks so angrily, her guitar disappearing. Her rage is delicious, it really is, but if he lets those heroes take her down, she might not be around to feed him for much longer.

So he looks back out to where the arrow came from, not quite finding the source from where he is. "...Find it." Suddenly both the cats surrounding Lin and the ones flanking Flesh Doll all but disappear. They scamper into the dunes to find the source of the arrow. Be careful Sigrun... they may not have found the girl yet, but they're definitely looking, and with the senses of a cat. Any movement should be theirs, any scent, any sound. Then again they're not counting on magical spells covering her presence...

Kotone Yamakawa has posed:
Flesh Doll looked aat Karla as she made ready with her axe like wepapon as she moved in.

"Train all you want, in the end you know the fate of all that lives. You can try to out run it but the predator will always make the kill. Hopefully today it will wrap you in it's jaws and consume you."

Flesh Doll Note as she then rushs at Karal to attack her with the very heavy weapon. However she doesn't seem that skilled...

Sigrun Stem (992) has posed:
That's part of the problem of sharpshooting while behind enemy lines. The enemy will start hunting for you as soon as they realize you're there, and you don't have anywhere to securely fall back to. Sigrun is well aware of that problem, and she'd already been moving to another spot by the time her arrow reached.

Still, she has to be extra careful, even when she pulls out a regular arrow, nocks it and aims. This time, it's for the commander-like figure looking her way. This time, she's not going quiet.

Partially across the way, an flying towards Razel's neck is speeding up past the speed of sound, the shockwave enhanced by magic, to an effect like a localized explosion going off near some of the drowned and other various evil minions. Then it slows down just enough to allow it to repeat that trick. It does this twice more, and it remains fast enough none of these shockwaves can be heard before the arrow comes.

Karal Rei Lin (984) has posed:
Lin frowns at the Flesh Doll's display of skill. The weird-looking weapon's something to be sure, but-- "I've seen toads with better jaws than these!" The Exalt howls in retort, unimpressed by the Flesh Doll's show of 'skill.'

    Expertly Lin twirls her weapon out to parry, apparently feeling fancy enough to waste that little bit of extra time! Despite the undead strength brought to bear she expertly grounds herself and transfers it into the sand... and instead makes use of Flesh Doll's incoming momentum by driving her knee forward towards the stitched creature's gut with tremendous force and precision.

    Would probably be a better tactic if the dead needed to breathe, though.

    Unfortunately this leaves her vulnerable to the fireballs! They start pelting her in the back, scorching her clothing and flesh and knocking her off-kilter. Whether or not her blow lands on the Flesh Doll, she's forced to dive to the side and enter a leaping dash manuever circling around to reposition...

    "You dead who linger to torture the living are an ABOMINATION. All life moves towards rebirth, not this torturous existence you're holding onto!"

Drowned Ophelia (975) has posed:
Scene cut short because of RL! More words to match the required word count.