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Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	There's no need to search around the camp. Sakura points immediately to its far center, where a mound of white ash that once laid at the bottom of a permanent, massive bonfire had cemented under the weight of remains over it. Though buried, anyone can feel the warmth radiating from it as they come close, and those who can sense magic can certainly see the core of radiant energy slumbering within. There is, thankfully, no need to cross the mile long bridge. Only to walk up and claim their prize.     Until a black spear falls from the cloudless sky and crashes into the earth like a lightning bolt, blowing ash and dust. The angle it embeds itself in the Earth is so shallow it must have been thrown without a trajectory at all, but merely by sight. From the opposite cliff. Impending motion. They won't be alone any longer but for a second.     Grey and silver motes of light and shadow swirl in the air like disturbed dust. The impossible bridge, wraps, groans, and then heaves like a bullwhip. The ripple that travels along it slams into the cliff with such force as to shake the ground beneath. The water churns, black rapids turning white with the thrashing frenzy of creatures below; the snapping maws and writhing scales of sea monsters awaiting fresh corpses from above, like canny scavenging crows. A shadow is normally hard to notice in the land named after them, but the blot of swift-moving blackness that passes above draws the eye unnaturally. It's like a hole. A broken screen. Pitch black paint.     A second impact follows the spear barely a moment later, less a thunderclap and more a crashing gate. A layer of ash flies away on the windy wake that sweeps past, blowing cloak and long hair alike of the figure in front. A tall woman clad in sable and grey, highland boots laced up to the thigh, white-furred mantle draping everything above, a white-gold torc around her throat and an iron chain festooned with fang and bone and antler and tooth barely holding back her hair; red so dark it would better be called black, the opposite of her white-on-white eyes, so bright that it feels like being stared at by flashing irises in the dark, even in plain day.     She looks not a day over twenty, but there couldn't be any secret about who she is. The woman twists the black spear from the ground dispassionately, shifting her grip up to the head and keeping it at her side. A shield strapped to her back. The prod of a bow beneath it. The tip of a sword at her hip, poking below the mantle, and the haft of an axe at the opposite hip. A dagger at one thigh, a spiral wand sheathed at the other. The strap of a sling and the butt of a quiver at the small of her back. She wears it all like a second skin.     "You of no clans. You of common blood. You of any path but the warrior. Begone. The Fortress of Shadows will remain with its gates barred, until such a day as another warrior of oath's blood and peerless valour seeks the pilgrimage again. Even should the world end without another appearing, you will be permitted not one step further. You will not tarnish the legacy of the warriors who walked here with your footsteps." Those white glowing circles flash towards Tamamo and Xion especially. "You will despoil it no further. This is the one and only grace you will be given, and even then not by my own choice."
Trudy Grimm	After that gods-awful forest, this open region is definitely a breath of fresh air in more ways than one. Trudy removes the breathing mask Candy had so helpfully provided, letting out a tired sigh as she inspects her modest injuries. Now seems like a good time to make use of Tamamo's charms, and so she does. Which leaves the witch in somewhat better spirits upon reaching the old campsite; and better still when Sakura seems to know exactly where what they're looking for is.     Suddenly, a spear. She puts a hand up to shield her face, the other immediately resting on the Grimoire. Finding it shaking, she glances down towards the tome; then flinches when a person joins the spear. Inhaling briefly, she lets it out slowly as she straightens her posture to face one of the world's greatest legendary warriors.     "I do apologize for the intrusion." She puts on a sincere, apologetic smile, "We weren't sure how to ask permission first... But there is only one small thing we came here to find. If you would graciously allow us to collect it, we'll leave right away."     Keeping one hand on her shuddering tome, the witch extends the other, "I don't expect you to give up anything for free, though... Would you perhaps be willing to let us try to earn it from you? This is how warriors go about things where I'm from; would you perhaps have a trial or test of some fashion? To prove ourselves."
Kale Hearthward	Kale's eyebrow raises, at that. Yes, he was in fact born common as dirt (and literally raised in a barn) and instead of having any sort of 'warrior clan' upbringing he was named after a vegetable and taught how to work grain windmills, and - technicaly hasn't been raised to nobility either, and the one title he does have is sort of deprecated- and... Anyway, he decides to ignore that. Totally ignore, and not let it get to him. Yeah. "Well, you'll be annoyed to know..." he says, as he steps forward. "We didn't even need the one grace. So, you giving it to us is wasted." These are Lilian's lands, sort of. Is there one of Lilian's codes that would apply? The Thirteenth, maybe? Eleventh? Though both of those feel sort of like a stretch, and if he's being honest with himself, he's trying to find a justification for what he's inclined to do anyway, and can't say for sure if he'd go back on his desires if he found something in the codes that countermanded them. He should start writing his own code, really. Code of Kale, entry number one: hit back first, and harder. Though as usual, people are more inclined to try to talk to the outsider who's clearly not inclined to talk back, and a pre-emptive strike of one won't go well. So, Kale's contribution to diplomacy: "Move."
Candy	With the prize in sight, Candy forgets where he is, for a moment. "Hey, Ishirou," he says with a deadly innocence. Caught up in premature celebration, the flat of Candy's macahuitl encroaches dangerously close to the inspector before the impact of the spear demands his attention.      Candy's catlike smile fades to a determined scowl. Holding the weapon up, it bursts into flames, from which curls a blue-grey, choking smoke. "'Fuck off or die,' ah? That's the options? Well, that's awfully fucking kind of you." He doesn't move. "Ishirou, you good to go?" His head turns, looks over his shoulder at Ishirou. The inspector can tell easily by his tone, and the burn in his eyes, that 'go' doesn't mean 'leave.'      Candy nods. He turns his attention back to Scathach, not bothering to hide his anger. "I'm here for a friend, and I ain't picking 'fuck off.' Put up your spear and let's go." Candy gives the Turquoise Mandate a testing swing, the obsidian teeth seeming otherworldly things, engulfed in flames and smoke as they are.
Cantio	`Now, Cantio, it might be important for you to dispel your worries about this one. At least, for now, focus on the fact that you're here, that success will win you praise...` "Y... Yeah. The important stuff's right here in front of us." Cantio takes another deep breath as Xion gets her to focus on the task at hand, and she actually chuckles lightly at that last bit. "Right! Not just praise, but... Knowing that I'm doing this. That I can do this." It's just the confidence she needs to get her spirits back up. She's also definitely not thinking about what it might mean to be able to rub this in certain people's faces down theine, but she's not so petty right now that she'll actually say it out loud. She's just thinking it really hard. Her train of thought is interrupted by a spear striking the earth. Recalling her sword into a single whole once more, she keeps her guard up as she tries to get a visual on the thrower of said weapon. "At that angle... That couldn't have just fallen from somewhere. It was thrown from... How far away?!" The angle does help her determine where to focus her gaze, at least, as Cantio brings up her free arm to shield her head when someone lands after that spear hits the ground. She's speechless at first as she stares at the warrior in front of her, seemingly carrying more weapons than flesh by volume. Her stare isn't one of terror, but of awe. It's not until she speaks that Cantio remembers where she is, and she rests her blade against her shoulder with the hilt raised to head level so she can keep her guard up at all times. "I... We're not just leaving, I'm sorry. There's someone we're here to help, and we can't just turn around because you said so." She states in her usual attempting-to-be-placating tone, but that tapers off rather quickly. Swallowing once, Cantio lowers her stance slightly as she looks over at Trudy and Candy, considering the likely result and already getting herself ready for what may come next. "If I may, though... What matters more to you? Blood, bravery, or ability? Are people who have overcome the pilgrimage and its trials lesser in your eyes just because they weren't... Born right? Not being in the right place for this blood oath? For knowing when to be scared and pushing through anyway?" She glances over at Sakura briefly, gesturing at her to back up if she's anywhere within about twenty yards, then turns back to the warrior. There's clear apprehension in Cantio's eyes, as though there's still something in her head screaming at her to back out, but her feet remain planted firmly on the ground while her hand draws a small piece of plastic out of her pocket.
Rita Ma	"Even though I understand why they need to protect me . . . I would do anything to share their weight."      "I... I'm not sure I understand, Ms. Sakura. The full size of it. But maybe I understand the kind? It feels heavy, and awful. Like every time they do something for you, the debt stacks higher, and you'll never be able to pay it back. Like you're waiting for something bad to happen to them, because they were protecting you."      Rita, having been droopily quiet and unobtrusive for quite some time, is shocked back to life by the spear's impact. Out of anyone, she probably flinches the worst, leaping backwards and clutching herself with a terrified "Aaaah-?!"      Then, a moment later, she's among the most inclined to treat with Scathach respectfully. 'Terrifying warrior woman with a piercing gaze and too many weapons' parses, for some reason, as a positive figure to Rita.      She steps forward, then takes a substantial bow. "I'm sorry, Ms. Scathach. We're only here because we care about Ms. Rook very much. You took her as a student, didn't you? For a little while. You saw something... really special in her, I heard. We saw something special in her, too."      "But there's something wrong with her, right now. She's... gotten really sick, since the last time you saw her. We need the Wheel to fix her, or... I don't know what will happen. We're scared for her. So, even if we're not any of those things you look for... we're here on behalf of someone who is. Is that something you can forgive?"
Tamamo	Inevitability. There is no path but surrender of their goal that would avoid conflict. Tamamo is sure of that without even checking how the threads of their future might be woven. There was the possibility that they'd be given some other trial, or allowed passage by what has already been done, but that is here denied.     'Not one step further.'     The wheel is close, but it is more than a step, and so, it might as well be beyond a chasm. There are some for whom their words are soft and malleable, and others for whom they are hard and stark. She doesn't need to guess as to which type of person Scathach is.     Maybe Trudy's words will work. Even if there's no difference in what will happen this day, the future might change, if that could be accepted.     Oh, but, perhaps... if it is all the same in any case, why not be honest? Without tricks in her words, with little hidden, a refreshig breeze in a dreary land.     "I greet you, mistress of this land, as one from far and farther shores. I cannot claim to be a warrior, even in jest. I know just how far from such a life I am, even in my own, vague conception of the term. It is undeniable that I should not be here. This plan is for her, but it is of my design, and it is a result of my own selfishness. I shall not disrespect you by hiding this truth: I am an invader and a thief, and all these people are my accomplices -- mostly witting. That that which I seek has been left alone and unused for these many years does not justify that I should take it for myself, and usurp Lugh's authority. Ah, but on the other hand..."     Her hands come together, slowly, fingers steepled. Her eyes are bright. There are flames in her hair, forming the shapes of the fox's ears. There are brightly glowing flames behind her, whipping in restlessness, air warping as heat rises. She speaks.     "I do this for love."     One could not mistake the encroachment of that foreign Sun's Authority.     "And that is enough. I need no greater reason. I will be as selfish, as selfless, as heroic and as villainous as is required, for the sake of my goal. This is what I have decided, and I will not be dissuaded, even by force as hard and sharp as yours."     Politely insincere, "I am sorry for the trouble."
Ishirou	Ishirou breaks out of the deadly forest and starts deploying sealing gel to his machine.  Thankfully, Sakura is there to also help him so that's...good!  Breathing a little easier, not because of the air in the forest his armor provided air, but because he wasn't hitting sharp branches every three seconds. Taking a breath, and very happy that suddenly this area was...safe he touches down to take a moment to breathe.  He hated everything about the trip till now, but he remembers why he was here.  So he could weather through this a bit easier, and so tries to right himself. Ishirou lifts his head up to Candy and gives him a smile.  "Hey!  Almost there, yeah?" he says cheerfully.   Only for the ground to explode, forcing Ishirou to cover his face from the blast.  The second thud was less earth-shattering than the first until he realized who was there.  "Oh crap," he says, unable to really get out anything else but that.  He heard the stories, and did the research...this was absolutely the worst possible situation.   When Candy calls for them to go, he sighs.  "We're all going to die...and it's going to be extremely brutal.." he says at first dejected but then...he sucks in a breath.  No.  Lilian was there for him, she helped him...he knew what was beneath that exterior that others often didn't see past.  More to the point, he feels like he's let her down a few times.   Not this time.   His eyes glow bright blue.  He's determined to do this, regardless of what she says.  Others are bargaining, but that's not how this is going to work.  "No, I will not leave," he says, firmly.  "We're here for something and we're going to take it.  There isn't anything that you can do to stop us...because I'm going to make sure that we succeed." "I'm not going to run or hide again...I'm not going to be afraid.  So, step aside.  We completed the challenges to be here.  We have fairly gained the right to stand where we are right now, and we have every right to claim that for our ailing friend."
Hibiki Tachibana	"Glad beyond words...yeah. I think I get what you mean."     Out in the light of the sun again, things already seem like they're looking up. The environment is far kinder, the atmosphere is no longer utterly stifling, and everything seems as if they might have actually surmounted the 'perilous trials of the hero' portion of the journey. Only 'as if', because there's still the absurdly long bridge up ahead, and more on the horizon besides. Fortunately, it doesn't seem like they'll have to make the whole rest of the trip.     There's that warm spot Sakura is pointing out. It's as easy as-- The spear descends from on high, and the feeling in the air changes with its owner descending.     That presence, that appearance can only be--the legendary warrior-queen. Even she knows that much. After having taken a step back from the impact that rocked the very air around them, she slowly pushes back to a full stand. There is, maybe, a small twitch of her eyes at 'any path but the warrior', but she doesn't voice her thoughts. Instead, her hands clench tight where they rest at her sides, and she forces down the apprehension that naturally comes with facing a figure like this.     "We've come all this way on the same path all those other guys tried to walk, so give us a little bit of credit..." She can't help a tense and slightly petty comment, before her she exhales and levels her voice out. She doesn't sound aggressive, but she does sound resolved.     "Sorry if we're disrespecting your land and your rites - but we're here because there's somebody we all came together to help," she says, after Cantio and Tamamo, though it's Rita she nods to. "...Lilian. And we didn't come all this way just to turn back right before we find it, whether we're worthy or not. If you care about her all, as a student or anything else..." She trails off, narrowing her eyes with a grimace.     She'd like to hope the ruler of the Land of Shadows will understand. She really would. But she's almost sure she won't, and she's already prepared herself for that.
Xion	Battle is something that feels natural to Xion, waves of enemies in hazardous and unreal-feeling terrain cast in shadows and ashes and paths of stability in darkness a homey atmosphere. She spent enough time in metaphorical spaces, the slip between spots of light, that having a clear path was a novel landmark, and the fearless healing of Sakura... Actually that part's expected. Fretting over that choose to help, when they are this far and this committed, is doing a harm to their person in the mind. There are greater trials - Lilian had weathered the place alone. Across the rickety bridge without a missed footfall, and up the winding path to the mountain, Xion returns to her silent lockstep-following, troubled. At the mountainhead - before the castle, she stands silent, arms crossed with Starlight held loosely in her grip. It's just there, in the ashes. Reach out, take it, it's yours. Xion blinks, blue eyes reflecting the black bolt from the heavens, the witch of the castle. Tamamo declares that they are - she is - here for love. The group, collectively, has that purpose, or some avarice of need. Xion first has words. "I came here already for love. Walked the path for the only purpose you'd accept, to save someone I cared about. To save a possibility. A future that I couldn't see and wouldn't know all of." "That time, you didn't intervene. She chose, and she left. And for that, I have to say-" Xion moves to plant Starlight into the ground, brings her hands together with a clap, and bows her chin. "Thank you. And for this grace, thank you again." Re-arraying her hands, palm open before her, she moves as if to draw blades from her hips. While her hands move, a string of keychains flips through a wide selection and settle on one styled after a golden chess-rook, with a black tooth with a magnetic credit-strip design across the ends with a red pom charm, and a second a jet black pylon twist capped with a red sphere keychain charmed with an empty ring. "I'm not here to entertain your grace. I've turned back and returned here because otherwise, she's not saved." "I'm here to force my way, as a warrior."
Lilian Rook	Sakura has just forced herself to put away that sad smile for Rita, saying "You're right. But I'm not sure which is worse. The waiting or the happening. The sadness itself or the times they can still be happy, not knowing." She is less than the desired twenty feet when the cliff shudders at the new arrival, and seems to lack either the sense or the instinct to get back further. She almost looks a little disassociated. A trace of Lilian at her worst. She stares blanky at the Shade when it all begins to happen.     "Indeed. My time and my patience are wasted in their entirety on you. I am no fool." replies Scáthach to Kale. "And I care not if my hospitality equals the soft men of your land." she replies to Candy. "For you are owed none. You are trespassers and nothing more." A flash of eyes sweeps towards Trudy. A glint like steel at noon. "No. You may not. The wheel is a work of Dannan's chosen. It was given to my prized pupil and him alone. I will not part with a sacred item, the last of his memory in these lands, for any groveling beggar." The way she speaks translates as very old-fashioned, but still, for those who've heard Lilian's tongue slip and her lapse into her home language, it's oddly easy to feel the resemblance in their mannerisms like that.     Scáthach's face remains utterly impassive at Cantio's insistence it'll go to a good cause. Her lips don't even twitch. "Valour. But I am not a woman of the world; I care nothing for the troubles of strangers from the far corners of the earth. I have made no oath to open my doors to all. It is my choice alone to open them to kinsmen worthy of being heroes, to learn of all the arts of war. I care only for the pride of Gael and Man and Skye, even if their blood runs thin in this last of ages." The spear slips from her grip, then before the point touches the ground, it explodes into a circular whirlwind of motion and force, idly spun a hundred times in the blink of an eye with a gale of wind to match, and then snapped to hand with point level-extended to menace Ishirou. "Even you do not believe that. Make no effort to lie to me. You have no hope of defeating me. You hope for a miracle."     Rita steps up. Scáthach looks dispassionately even at a five foot girl in a dress. The short silence after Rita uses the name of Rook is the only indication that she's thought of anything. "Of course. I know well enough that some of your number know the Blátha Claíomh. It surprises me little that you would have the temerity to return only in matters of her. Do not claim to know anything of her value. If you truly recognized the gravity of her station, you would never have stolen her from my castle."     The silence that follows after is a hair longer. Her voice the slightest degree less sharpened. "Then return her to me. Return my Senén and I will see to her illness myself. If, that is, you speak truly at all. You have taken me from her once. Why should I allow you to take from me a second time so that you may keep her?" The untranslated word sounds almost like a nickname. She swings the spear to point at Hibiki, bristling a little beneath what might as well be a porcelain mask for a face. "Do not seek to measure my concern, child. She is wasted in your hands. You have no idea of what she is worth. What she needs. What she will have to do, before the end. Whatever worry you may have for her, it is not one tenth enough."
Lilian Rook	It's Tamamo's plain and unmixed honesty that gets her to hesitate again, having to think twice about this in the same span of time. Tense seconds of silence, like a weighty stone squeezing down on the chest, are broken by the sharply abrupt sound of laughter. Scáthach finds something darkly amusing. There's just a hint of chagrin, for not having realized something already.     "I see. My old pupil met his wife in these lands; perhaps so should it be, even if a woman walks his path. The cycles of the world leave deep tracks to follow. Yes, indeed you are a thief! But thus is the way of a woman's heart. If my Senén were already promised, it is less a surprise that she would hide away from my disappointment."     She looks upon Xion. "The foreseeable future grows shorter every day. This is the last cycle this world will repeat. What lies beyond, even the four Roots do not know. That future can only be seen, only be decided, by the blooms that we raise. It is true. I could have barred your way before. But your presence was necessary. To test my Senén's resolve. And to test if I need fear breaking what she needs within her. I was glad to see her unbroken, but disappointed in her youth. If there are those that still love her, then she iss recovered from the dimming of her flame in the Land of Shadows. But there is still growing to be done."     Scáthach lowers the spear, but grips the clasp of her mantle and throws it aside. Tight-fitted scales of steel are woven into sable leather, arms and waist strapped with even further armament. She unlimbers the shield from her back. The crest is a black helix enwreathing a red sword over a six-petaled white flower. "Then I will determine the truth for myself! If you are here for so noble a cause, then come at me as warriors rather than creep into my lands as thieves! If you are here for love of my Senén-- of the Claíomh Bláth, then prove it! Only then will I speak to you of terms! Come at me! You face the Shadow of Dun Scaith! You face Scáthach of the Four Roots! Mentor of Cú Chulainn, Lasaira Derg, and Claíomh Bláth! Come and prove your worth, fools from across the sea!"
Kale Hearthward	Patience is indeed wasted on Kale - not least because he has not nearly enough to give in return. "Then we are through talking," he says, despite not having said more than twenty words himself since Scáthach makes her appearance. Kale doesn't lack words, exactly (in fact some might say he has *too many* on occasion), he just... sees someone stancing up against him, on the other side of whatever battlefield they happen to be sharing, and it's like a switch is flipped. Be that a Concord elite with a flag, or a Watch elite with a monster, or a guardian in front of a bridge - he has one way of expressing himself in response. And at that point, it's all motion - perfectly timed and rehearsed. Kale goes from a standing start to taking off like a rocket, literally, clicking his heels together mid-stride to blast forward, and in the same motion (in the same breath) reaches back and draws his sword, and swings it as he blasts through Scáthach's space. Closing in like this is almost assuredly going to open him up to a counterattack or another opposing move, but while she's focused on him she'll be less focused on those coming up behind him-!
Rita Ma	Rita flinches again as the spear is spun, scrunching her eyes shut and ducking her head behind her arms. This time, at least, she manages to choke back her noise of panic.      When she straightens back up, her heart is pounding. It really doesn't look like she belongs here at all. That simple affinity for scary swordswomen that had lent her confidence broke the moment the weapons were pointed at her. In times like these, she masks her distress under a thin demureness, but it's not a very convincing mask at all.      "Thank you for hearing us, Ms. Scathach," she says. Her hands are folded primly in front of her; her knuckles are white. "We'll try to be brave." There is some projection in that 'we'. Kale, Candy, Hibiki, Xion, and especially Tamamo- even Sakura- seem to be keeping it together better than she is.      Rita's sleeve unravels into an invisible tentacle and slashes at the Shade's cheek, testing her reactions. Rita herself breaks to the left, as if to circle around at a safe distance. She does not. She leaps off the cliff, into the waters far below that froth with writhing scales and waiting teeth.      She just needs to taste one of the sea monsters- or at least, one of each 'kind'.
Ishirou	"Even you do not believe that. Make no effort to lie to me. You have no hope of defeating me. You hope for a miracle." Ishirou's doubts creep in again.  She was right, she was one of the strongest warriors that had ever been, and they had little hope of beating her.  What other choice was there though?  If they did not, then what would happen to Lilian?  He sounded so determined before, but he was seriously not sure.  In fact, his scanners decided to pull the bandaid off.   No, it wasn't pulling the bandaid off.  It was their ticket to victory, he realizes.  He will analyze her, he will study her, and give that information to everyone.  He raises a hand up and makes a connection.  Ishirou creates a HUD for the group, even for those who wouldn't have something like that as just a magical ability to see things he found out.   The Flight Unit flips in the air, switching from humanoid mode into Fighter mode.  He takes to the air and rotates around before starting the fight off the best that he could. Multiple scans wash over the warrior, trying to pierce through anything that could obfuscate her...then tries to relay that back to the others. "I don't pray for a miracle.  I will make one happen," he says, simply.  No more words.  Deeds at this point.  No more hesitation...he couldn't stop or hesitate now.
Trudy Grimm	The straight rejection Scathach fires back on Trudy's request isn't...entirely unexpected. She closes her eyes, free hand lifting in a 'so it be' sort of shrug. Her other hand lifts, procuring the Grimoire and allowing it to open. In her free hand, she produces the rune of Eiwaz; traced in sickly green. She pushes this down as the rune disintegrates, a runic circle erupting around her feet.     The witch's shadow turns black as pitch and expands, filling out the circle. From it emerges bones; skeletal warriors clad in tattered mail and plate and helmets; missing limbs, jaws, and other parts; wielding swords and spears and shields of their own.     While this unit of skeletons breaks into a charge, Trudy draws her hand back and raises it, pulling a far taller figure from her own shadow; this one fully clad in corroded black plate, green crystals protruding from cracks in his armor, faint points of green glowing behind the visor of his helmet as he rises.     Trudy has already procured another of those glowing emeralds, though her Knight has not fully emerged yet; the skeletal warriors are the necromancer's first wave. They probably won't last long, but skeletons have their own niche in a witch's toolkit.
Cantio	"That's... Fair, actually. Their troubles aren't yours, this land isn't theirs, and you have no duty to anyone outside of your domain." Cantio admits with a slow nod, going quiet for a while as she watches that demonstration of martial prowess with the spear moving faster than she can keep track of. It takes her a little longer to steady herself again and continue. "We do, though, so... Yes, we're going to have to take it by force. We're going to take something else of yours, but it's not because we hate you or anything." "It's just something we have to do." She looks over at Hibiki, then back at Scathach once again. "For Lilian, for us, for whatever reasons we have that don't ultimately matter as long as we do this." Raising the plastic device to eye level, Cantio flicks the side as a cartridge-like stud flips out from inside of the greeble's main body. There's faded gray bits on it along with newer-looking red and purple motifs painted on top. Rita might recognize the shape of it, even if the colors are different. Xion very much will, considering where it came from. Still maintaining eye contact with Scathach, Cantio slides the cartridge end of it into the base of her sword, pushing it in with a satisfying shnk noise and then thrusting her blade into the ground. "Henshin!" Her blade lights up, and a chaotic mixture of primary-color yellow, blue, and red text surges out of the greeble while guttural digitized noises start coming out of the device. It all swirls together until it becomes an unreadable white soup, then explodes into a a pure blackness with even more industrial grinding noises that actually start sounding like a backing track after a while. Stars illuminate the area behind Cantio, eventually forming into digitized spaceships that turn into heavy-looking pieces of black armor with red and purple accents that clamp onto her limbs and extend from her back like mechanical wings/thrusters without being connected to her in any way. ACTION MASTER 52! Cantio steps forward as she brandishes her sword once again, settling into a two-handed stance with the large blade held across her shoulders and behind her head not unlike a baseball player preparing to swing. "My name is Cantio! Drive Core Candidate of Cadenza! Partner of the Concord! Inheritor of the Nephil Fist!" Following far behind Kale, Cantio launches an entire array of floating black and red bits that look like miniature space fighters themselves, swarming around Scathach to harass her with sustained laser fire. It takes a little longer for Cantio herself to move in after Kale's initial charge, sweeping her techy-looking blade diagonally upwards to try and take advantage of the sheer numbers on their side.
Tamamo	"Sakura, I had meant to ask as to what other purpose than for my own you may have seen this path walked, but we shall save this question for another time, yes? Though I feel some uncertainty in the moment, would you stand just ten paces behind me?" Within the range of her more potent wards, but far enough that it should be easy for even that storm of a spear to strike Tamamo without overly endangering Sakura.     'But thus is the way of a woman's heart.'     Tamamo's laughter is light, hidden by her sleeve, her eyes narrowing. "Ahaha, perhaps so. A novice in love though I may be, and unworthy of it, I thank you for your understanding."     Scathach calls for them to begin, and Tamamo can do no more than oblige. This should reasonably take everything she has. Nevertheless, her first move is barely aggressive, or rather, not obviously so. The talismans fall from her sleeves in streams, not tossed a few at a time, but enough that even that spear will be challenged to slice apart all of them at once, as they swirl and float and settle over the ground. Here and there, they activate, while others remain dormant. The total coverage of the paper mess is grand but unimportant. Only a few, those that find the geometrically appropriate positions for the establishment of her wards, her blessings of luck and protection, need to be real, the others dormant, their purpose and importance a purposeful mystery. Those that fly toward her opponent reveal themselves as fluttering curses on approach, inviting attention.     Tamamo's own position and Sakura's would be well protected, if only it were not the mistress of Dun Scaith they faced.     All this should be enough to make a fair showing of herself, but...         I cannot claim to be a warrior.     There must be more she can do.
Candy	<J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "We are so throughly screwed." <J-IC-Scene> Candy says, "So what? We ain't dead yet!" <J-IC-Scene> Ishirou says, "We ain't dead yet, he says..."     "You got it," utters Candy, eyes fixed on Scathach. It's easy to tell by the tension in his body, the tone of his voice, that it's no longer solely about helping Lilian--something about 'the soft men of his land' seems to have struck a nerve.      When she extends the challenge, Candy breaks into a sprint, the hat flying from his head, black hair billowing out along with his motorist's coat. "I'll show you soft." With the macahuitl held in preparation for a low swipe, he flickers in an uneven zig-zag on his approach. It culminates in a feint, an in-out blink right in front of Scathach, meant to bait out a reaction to an attack from behind.      But there isn't an attack from behind. Candy puts his hips into the swing. The weapon's flames burn away the smoke, adding an extra element of reach to the swing via a searing heat that extends past the obsidian teeth.      Funneling momentum and shifting his hands upon the toothed blade's lengthy handle, Candy brings it down for an overhead, then puts his enhanced strength to use with a sharp dragging motion, sawing with sharp, burning-hot teeth. Adding in another of those blink-mixups, he circles around and back, before committing hard to a two-handed thrust, the flames of the weapon turning to choking, stinging smoke to hedge a potential miss.      "That's more like it, Ishirou!" he calls as the inspector takes to the skies.
Hibiki Tachibana	'You have no idea of what she is worth. What she needs. What she will have to do, before the end. Whatever worry you may have for her, it is not one tenth enough.'     That's an emotional hit more than enough to get Hibiki to wince. "...Maybe I don't. And maybe it's not." After all, she doesn't know what happened between Lilian and Scathach during what existed of her training, or their relationship - nor everything the Queen fears. Not even the exact nature of Lilian's injury. However...she glances to Cantio, meeting that look, and then turns back.     Her fists tighten again, and she grits her teeth.     "...But /you/ don't get to tell /me/ how deep any of my feelings go, after everything that's happened--!"     That 'keeping it together' that Rita was just thinking about cracks for a moment, and she's more than happy to take up the challenge, launching herself forward in a full-on sprint. If Kale wants someone coming up behind him, then that'll be her--challenging weapons and shield with Gungnir and her fist, transfering her momentum into a charging punch straight for the warrior-queen's face that visibly warps the air around it.     She braces her footing in place immediately after, not intent on passing by or trying to circle around. She remains right in their opponent's face, her opposite arm already pulled back and primed to punch low. And another--and another, each one coming in with the force of a truck impacting straight into her body.     Any footwork keeps her just barely out of the way of the other attacks coming in for Scathach--but she's not going anywhere. And each one is being thrown forward heavier than the last.
Xion	Armed in both hands, Xion spreads her stance wider. Hibiki's response carves a frown on the Nobody's lips, her teeth setting. To sensitive ears, her words are a clipped "Don't seek to measure our concern either-!", a riot of unquiet feeling. Tense at the throat, clenched in the chest, her grip tightens on her blades, before discarding the pylon at her side, where it floats ready. Hand freed, she produces a white-and-gold chain-link pattern charge card from her sleeve, where she swipes the magnetic strip through the keyblade handle which: obviously has a swipe payment feature. A loud 'ka-CHING-kupo!' sounds from the blade, and the golden length glows with molten inner light. "I'm taking that step." Xion mutters, the flutter in her chest a searing flame. She raises her foot, and Kale is out like a flash, leading the charge in a burst of speed. It was very, extremely like him to. The dramatic entrance of Cantio covers the sky temporarily, and Xion leaps through the banner after it disgoges Cantio's armor pieces, her trailing black twist-sword gathering up the gob of starfield and bleepboops into a vortexed-up ball of stars and pixels. Lifting the space voxel trailing ribbon off her blade as she twirls in the air, Xion coils about and swings the glowing-gold blade into the slipstream, sending a cascade of pixel-stardust and chunky voxel cubes in a spray towards the Lady of Shadows. Tumbling and spiralling, the lazy stars twinkle with tangible light, a gleam of something awaiting inside: And each one does, dozens of thick chunky twinkles buried in the star and space-garbage. Within each one is: A directional mine. Each item sparkle lovingly packed for maximum kill-radius from an unethical contractor.
Lilian Rook	Kale, bravest (or most foolish) and most impetuous of the lot, meets Scáthach first, and Cantio joins his assault from the start. Though she is famous for the spear she awarded Cú Chulainn, they abruptly find out the proto-Celtic root of her title as 'the Shadow': the fact that it's a homonym with 'shield'. She reacts from a standstill with a shift of her weight that feels almost like it was skipped in fast forward, and the shield flashes forward and slams into his blade as he passes, effortlessly absorbing the impact of his blow just so she can strike with the spear in the same moment, the gleaming black head aimed perfectly for his heart even at point blank, where he should logically be inside her reach. She rotates with the direction of his strafe, half-crouching and turning to intercept the barrage of lasers, her shield arm moving with the uncanny precision of steel and circuits, not something fallibly flesh and blood. Once the surface starts to glow, she ducks just a little lower, angles it shallowly against multiple blasts for above, and deflects them off the face right back into Cantio.     Ishirou's scanning goes relatively unimpeded. As far as he can tell, Scáthach registers as still, technically, human, but her parameters are completely off the chart. He can't tell what her shield is made of, even if it looks like metal-faced wood, or even her armour or weapons, but none of them appear to be significantly enchanted in any way. Which is concerning. That isn't to say she herself is mundane; the woman contains a bonfire of energy she isn't yet using except as martial reinforcement. She should logically be susceptible to anything a human is, but only in the sense that he is comparing the relative weaknesses of a demigod.     He isn't safe in the air though. In the same motion Scáthach deflects the lasers, she tosses her spear up into the air, grabs the sling from her back, and triggers his incoming ballistic attack warnings with the multi-mach 'stone', then wraps it around her hand with a flick of her wrist and catches the spear in time to strike back against Trudy's skeletons. The numbers are no problem for her. Though they're 'more stress to deal with', they aren't able to land a single hit on her armour. The Shadow, meanwhile, swings the spear like a shortstaff, blowing skeletons to pieces with the flat and sides of the haft in whirlwind arcs.     In the same opening seconds, Rita's invisible thrust slips through. The tendril contacts Scáthach's skin before she realizes it's there, but Rita's eyes don't miss how Scáthach reacts to it as it cuts her, leaning away from the second inch of split skin. It's her shield hand, strapped to her arm as it is, that yanks a trio of small knives strapped to her chest and hurls them at Rita in a perfectly calculated triangle, even as she caves in the skull of an undead minion at the same time.     The spearhead slices apart some of the flurry of talismans as they land near her, but mainly Scáthach simply doesn't move from the head of the Bridge of Leaps. It's a bad sign that she has time and breath to laugh easily. "Do not think I have forgiven you just yet. I am proud of my Senén for the love she has found. Prove it to me, so that I may be assured she has made no mistake."     Rita landing in the rapids below finds that she seems to beyond her foe's notice, for the time. The sea monsters are eager to fight with each other for the privilege of ripping her limbs apart and devouring her. Their competitive frenzy actually makes them much less problematic than their size and ferocity should make for; there are several different varieties, but returning the favour isn't be beyond her means.
Lilian Rook	Scáthach is currently focused on Candy. The spear is hurled at ridiculous speed, straight through the undead ranks, at Tamamo, only so that she can draw her own shining sword in the same motion and cleave right between the teeth of Candy's own blade. "You are far too easy to read. Too honest. The inception of your intent is obvious." The flash of smoke and fire halts her counterattack, but only just. She shields her eyes, holds her breath for a heartbeat, and swings the edge of the shield into his cervical vertebrae, like killing a rabbit.     Hibiki, without stopping time, comes next. Her fist comes close enough to Scáthach's face to give her a split second of hope, and then she notices the warrior maid has already kicked out with her considerably longer leg, judging the timing and spacing to strike Hibiki just under the ribs with bone-cracking, diaphragm-hemorrhaging force, and blast her away like a cannonball.     Xion's light show is briefly ignored while it doesn't seem to be doing anything, but somehow Scáthach clicks the exact second it becomes a hostile hazard. "Three sorcerers." she glances at Sakura, still standing at the back. "Four." she monotones. The shield almost seems to teleport to her back, cross-strapped with the sword. Like it magically swapped places with the bow, now strung with two arrows between each finger and a fistful in the arc-hand.     "Cleasa." Ishirou detects a spike of energy. Scáthach spins faster than blinking, carving the stone into a spiral beneath her feet and sliding into a low shooting-crouch. An arrow for each and every mine bursts from her all at once, each aimed dead center and piercing through to detonate them prematurely. The explosions cause half of them to ricochet at Xion from multiple angles.
Trudy Grimm	Trudy's skeletons are demolished in rapid succession; the fragility of skeletons is no real surprise though. Their entire purpose is to be cheap and spammable while their summoner winds up something stronger.     That something stronger being the Black Knight towering over her; easily twice her height. The witch burns the contents of another gemstone, the light inside dying even as the gemstones protruding from the Knight gain a glow of their own. He reaches forward, hauling a rune-inscribed greatsword from the shadows at his feet. A kite shield, its heraldry long since corroded away, is unslung from his back, and he joins the fray by charging in with his shield.     The sword, wielded like a longsword, would easily qualify as a claymore for any other man, a weapon that he presses into a broad horizontal cleave once he's gotten close enough.     On the backline, Trudy straightens her posture and produces a new rune; the X-shaped Gift rune, Gebo. Twisting it upside-down, the color shifts from blue to crimson; then disperses when she thrusts her hand downward. The runic circle at her feet sports Gebu but also the Water rune, Laguz.     As the Black Knight assaults Scathach, the Witch attempts a curse which makes it harder to breathe. Not merely choking, but heavy and oppressive. A curse of water; enforcing the distinct and unmistakable sensation of drowning.
Kale Hearthward	Bravery? Foolishness? The two are quite possibly intertwined for Kale, a bit of both - mostly foolishness. He comes in fast, swinging - however fast he is, Scáthach turns out to be faster, and he ends up taking the worse end for the exchange - the spear not managing to pierce solidly into him, but it draws the first blood of the fight from his chest as the point crosses his body. And then he's away. The full-acceleration charge doesn't include the possibility of brakes, so he's out of the fight for a moment, for better or for worse, and he has a moment to observe as he makes a wide turn in mid-air to set up his next run. And that's when he makes a belated realization, figuring out what everyone else had known well before the fight started. "Oh - she's probably going to kick our tails." NOW the balance shifts from foolishness to bravery. He grips his sword, two handed, and breathes - it spins up, taking drill form, and he charges again. Another strafing attack, quickly into and out of her space - this time with something a bit more destructive than just the edge of a blade!
Cantio	"So this is who she was learning from...!" Cantio's voice comes out with an almost gritty and almost tinny reverb to it as she observes Scathach's reactions to so many attacks leveled at her at once. Her sword remains in front of her as she zips around to try and find a better angle of attack (and also to not get in the way of her allies' own attacks). "And to throw around so many weapons at once... No wonder Lilian came out here to find you." Cantio doesn't let being starstruck distract her from defending against being struck, at least, noticing Scathach's deflection maneuver before it can nail her square in the chest. She pings the lasers off her sword and her armored plates to send them careening upwards far past where Xion had retrieved that twisted sword from, then launches a few more of those sword bits upwards at those lasers while Cantio herself moves back into melee range. Once again, she goes for that big golf swing that's far faster than a golf swing should be. Unlike the previous swing, however, the blade of her weapon lags considerably behind the handle as Cantio is swinging it, curving in real time as if the blade was frozen behind Cantio. It turns out to be a decoy, however, as those lasers that had reflected off Scathach towards Cantio and off of Cantio towards her bits finally come back down at Scathach. They've built up considerable power since then, amplifying their speed and power themselves through the repeated volleys somehow! And then the blade finally comes back up at Scathach. It snaps upwards in an instant, and only then does Cantio swing it sideways to try and catch her with a follow-up aimed at punching through Scathach's impeccably timed defenses.
Tamamo	'If you truly recognized the gravity of her station, you would never have stolen her from my castle.'     'You have no idea of what she is worth.'     "New to the ways of humans though I am, there is something I have concluded, if you would listen. It is simply this, that in matters of the heart, there is no question of worth, nor of what is deserved. One is obliged to behave as is right and proper, and yet, one cannot be obliged to love."     She's still burning, casting a light unlike that to which this land is accustomed on her surroundings. It should flicker, but the spirit of solar flame is warm and steady, only less so than golden eyes. One could almost imagine true life taking root beneath that, if only the soil were seeded.     "Oh, but even a thief should show this courtesy. As you have given your name, know mine. I am Tamamo-no-mae, bunrei of Amaterasu-omikami, She of the White-Gold Face, Goddess of the Sun." The shadow of a shadow that passes shows, in each moment, those features just slightly farther from human, animal only by approximation, being as difficult as it is for any human to conceive of a god that is neither. She'd spoken of love and selfishness, but not of further dangers, nor of the depths of her heart's hunger.     She doesn't usually so wear it on her sleeve.     Tamamo sees Rita dive away -- but there must be a reason for that. She trusts she'll return. Everyone else is already attacking, if one counts Trudy's friends as her extended self. For her own part in aggression, there is the fact that the White-Gold is an invader to the land of pure white, black, and blackened blood-red. That much is obvious. She shouldn't be here. Nevertheless, with blue-white streaks like streaming stars, lines crossing over at precise angles between those few of her talismans, her presence grows, an assertion of foreign space upon the local, a war of conflicting law.     Life-giving light becomes more than figurative, a renewing force of blessings for all her allies, bringing away the fatigue of the long trek here, if that exhaustion is a thing they can give up. Some can't, of course, but that is another mystery of the heart.     For Scathach, that heat is an oppressive thing, the light blinding. Her aim is true, her throw powerful, her spear sharp, but the air had been warped by the interplay of heat and chill, and Tamamo had been standing a handspan to the side. The mistaken angle is the critical weakness Tamamo exploits, and when her sleeve is moved just so, the spear flies away again, not by any physical touch, but by the crashing of strength and wards. Shattered, mystical shielding restores itself, power flowing out from her, as the Sun at the center, ready to be put to use.     Her protection established, she can focus on showing her strength. Too much of it, maybe, but what does it matter how she feels the next morning, when her goals are fully justified?     "What I give, I give freely."     The paper storm disintegrates, talismans burning away into so many stars and fox-fires, a miniature galaxy to hound Scathach, personally, every one part of an array made only to curse her, to wear down her strength while others strike.
Ishirou	'Ballistic object incoming.' Ishirou's drone speaks up.  The Armor banks right, trying to get out of the direct line of fire of the rock.  It shears the wind in its wake and tosses the armor end over end.  Rattled, but not down Ishirou is forced to try and recover and the armor pulls up before crashing into the water with the monsters...making it a dangerously close call.   He starts relaying the information he has to the others.  This gives him a plan.  Soaring up from near the water he holds close to the ground.  He comes up and over the ledge and straight at the warrior.  Blasts of energy fire ahead of him, trying to limit her movement, before he goes right by her at a dangerous speed.   The shockwave that comes attempts to clear her from her feet, but also makes it harder to hear.  He rises up again, banking to keep his height on her.  "Pod, keep the scan on her, we need any advantage to win," he says, and tightens his jaw.
Xion	Tumbling to the platform ground to chase in, Xion makes her best attempt to close distance before Scathach finishes reacting to the first group. She knows to end her own flight early, without the mastery of it like Ishirou in his flying armor. She had to space the time for her explosions and a followup-- 'Cleasa.' Announces Scathach, and Xion's mines divert to become deeply unfriendly fire, ricocheting around and several finding their way to cause her problems. Readying her golden-bright sword of wealth, Xion sweeps the blade into guarding position and-- 'kakaka-CHING-kupo!' --A buddha-like metal moogle erupts from the hilt and replacing Xion, the little pom-charm enlarging and drooping from the transformed blade still as red and weighted as any pom should be. The golden-furred summon blinks with black-button eyes and spreads doughy arms, immediately brushing aside the worst of the explosions via sheer moogle idolatry. "'Congratulations-kupo! Here's Your Prize-kupo!'" From golden wells of capitalism, multiple air cannons of pastel colored razor-confetti shoot out, heralding a slow drumroll. The text 1,000,000th Customer appears, as an arc of further golden portals reveal tiny golden moogle faces, each with cold black eyes and a cute little nose. The faces, together, begin to shoot a completely countable number of magic energy blasts shaped like coins. When the attack concludes, Xion re-appears, less the golden-bright blade.
Hibiki Tachibana	Xion wasn't wrong to feel unquiet there--Hibiki absolutely got carried away in that moment of defensive emotion, and that's probably a part of why her very offensive physical response ended up the way it did. One limb clearly beats out another, and her own momentum works against her in a painful, audible smash that connects cleanly.     The magical girl doesn't even get the chance to register the air leaving her lungs before she goes shooting back, tumbling head-over-heels through the dirt meter after meter. She catches herself before she goes too far at least, dragging hands and feet through the earth before stumbling back to a stand, clutching onto the point of impact and drawing breaths back. "Hah...hah..." It at least beat a small measure of sense back into her skull, at least enough that when she opens her one pain-closed eye, she looks just a bit more focused. "She's...the real deal...okay--"     In more ways than one. Hibiki kicks forward and approaches again fast and hard, looking lik she's about to repeat history with a fist reared back. Upon nearly getting back into weapon or leg range again though, she abruptly ducks low, and in a sudden burst of speed, weaves in closer as her hand clenches white-knuckle tight.     She's not trying to avoid the same kind of retaliation she just got. In fact, she's almost asking for it. But that fist of hers is shining bright as if alight, and her feet brace into the ground to keep herself steady even if she does take the hit she's obviously baiting in, just so she can make /sure/ this one is delivered straight into Scathach's stomach.     A strike that deliberately puts the user in harm's way, capitalizing on the resulting pain response to deliver psychic feedback with a devastating punch. The technique she learned of through a set of manuscripts in the Temple of Three Winds, substituting the lack of nanite transmission with her own Symphogear's ability to emotionally 'connect' with others.     It's a work in progress. But as is, it'll still be plenty enough to subject the warrior-maid to a momentary but intense, dizzying and confusing sense of vertigo if she falls for it. For what she's fighting for, she doesn't mind taking a dozen more of those kind of hits.
Rita Ma	Rita's right eye flicks to the knives midair, focusing on each one separately. She hadn't thought to feint or hide herself yet, assuming Scathach would be too busy; as it is, her body's instinctive flinching twist to the side only almost saves her.      Two of the knives graze what ought to be her skin, but isn't.      She lands on the rocks below with a grimace, more from the cut than the fall. The monsters are formidable, but not as formidable as Scathach; she impales one of each 'kind' with her tentacles, deftly avoiding their gnashing and scrambling, and drinks.      Rita is Queen. In the moment that biological connection is made, she becomes their Queen. They would die for her. And they will.      She throws them back up the cliff to land on the battlefield: a writhing sinuous sea-serpent, something with a broad fanged mouth and glassy eyes, something wriggly and blade-finned, something blobby and venomous. They completely ignore the other combatants, homing in directly on Scathach with suicidal fervor.      Then she races back up the cliffside herself, 'climbing' at a galloping sprint. Those that can, slither or crawl up the rocks to follow her. The net effect is a dense convergence of monsters directly on Scathach's position, such that the simple mechanics of flesh and momentum make defense difficult.      And Rita stands still at the edge of the cliff, watching, in that wide-eyed sleepwalking way she sometimes does. Her heart's still pounding, but managing the monsters gives her something to focus on. Again, invisible tentacles menace Scathach, but this time they wait for openings; they strike only when a monster or one of her allies forces Scathach's attention to be elsewhere.
Candy	The shield impacts Candy's neck. Time stops. *She's right.* The real Candelario stands a ways off, rubbing the split, bruised skin at point of impact, but a convincing replica of him is still frozen under the edge of Scathach's shield. *I can barely touch her. But if it kills me, I'm gonna help us get this goddamn thing to Lilian.*     Time resumes. Candy crumples beneath Scathach's shield, going limp as the Turquoise Mandate clatters to the ground beside him. In the midst of Xion's chaotic barrage, three Candies join in. All three look worse for wear, sweating with exertion, clothes soiled from impacts with the ground--but only one is real.      The one charging up and bellowing at her with the macuahuitl raised isn't. The one hurling razor-sharp fans of playing cards isn't, either. It can therefore only be the one manning the water-cooled mounted machine gun, creating a harrowing crossfire with Xion's shooting moogles.
Lilian Rook	"So this is your chosen champion? A young witch you must be." Scáthach intones as Trudy summons the black knight. The giant sword is met with a flash of her own sunbright blade the bow now simply held in her offhand, and repeatedly parried with the utmost of ease. "Large. Slow. Predictable." But that isn't the point. Trudy's spell kicks in, and the Shadow coughs, guards her throat, glances back to Trudy a second time, and then visibly begins holding her breath. She sidesteps a mighty overhead swing from the black knight, ducks under his arm, and stabs her sword through the armpit to lodge it in place, strings and fires a flurry of arrows at Trudy, easily punching through ranks of bone in the way, then throws the arrows from her fist in a spray, sticking into the ground, her bow spinning around them like a horseshoe around a nail, and then grips the lodged sword with both hands and yanks it back free again with a full bodied spiral slash, twirling around the black knight's back and kicking him towards the cliff.     She uses the kick to launch herself away from Kale, rather than parry the drill; just in time too, as the shield is swung out once more and the drill strike grazes its surface, sending rotating shocks up through her arm and into her ribs. She flips the grip of her sword reverse in her hand, then hurls it down at him like a sunlit thunderbolt in mid-air, aimed to go right through him and out the other side.     Unfortunately, Scáthach is still ready for Cantio even as her feet are finding the rocky cliffside again. With another monotone "Cleasa--" The woman spins with one leg out at chest level and kicks one of the white granite pillars with such force it shatters into a thousand pieces, some cherry red hot, which crack like gunshots into her direction. Most are destroyed as a direct counter to the amplified laser blasts, calculated to intercept each other, but some slip through.     The lagging blade. Is warded with that shield with its crest of no kingdom, but its timing is especially inconvenient. Scáthach is left defending instead of moving on to the next target. She has little choice but to keep that shield level and braced, crouching her whole body behind it against the energy blasts from Ishirou and the storm of foxfire, intercepting the individual flames, its surface dispelling their malevolent magic. Ishirou's charge is met head on; Scáthach throws the shield over her back to at least partially defend herself from Tamamo's assault from behind and catches his frame in both hands, backsliding across the cliff and removing her from her defensive position, then halting him in place as she finds her footing. The warrior instantly transitions to a hold, grappling the mech frame, and then piledrives it into the stones, using its thruster speed against it to send it straight down.     By now, however, Tamamo's withering hail of curses is starting to have an effect. Scáthach seemed to have no difficulty holding her breath --probably planning to for the entire fight, actually-- against Trudy's drowning curse, but the strength is being sucked out of her physicality first. She gasps lightly "How long since a witch of any value fought? Yet three?" She slides free the spiral wand at her hip --carved bone and onyx, not like Lilian's modern switchblade metal wand-- and incants at tremendous speed, slashing it through the spiral foxfire galaxy and obliterating the curses with powerful countermagic. A second throws out a wall of fire at the talismans, burning them away along the ground. However, even though she dispels herself last, it seems she has no restorative magic; or is unwilling to use it.
Lilian Rook	"I am one of the Four Roots for good reason, girl." Scáthach replies to Cantio. "And Claíomh Bláth is one of the Four Blooms. The fact that she would come to me is an inevitability. She may one day be the greatest warrior of this age, would she stay under my tutelage, but it seems she still has some to learn from the First Branch." She regards Tamamo after her self-introduction with a new kind of look. "A goddess. Bearing the name of the Second Root. I see. Is that girl your apprentice." her eyes drift to Sakura, who, finally, shrinks back. "No wonder your pull on my Senén's heart is so strong." The wand is replaced with the long dagger in the same iai-like motion. She flips it to grip its point, then snaps it towards Tamamo. Where it meets her wards, it doesn't stop spinning; the dagger tumbles faster and faster, revving up to a wailing scream as it chainsaws through the layered protections.     Still recovering her short-term strength, Scáthach suddenly comes under siege from the wave of sea monsters coming up from the cliff. The axe is drawn from its loop. A single swing strikes into the flesh of a heap of scaled flesh, and an explosive slash blows it apart. Swung back over her head, the blunt backside crushes a sea serpent into a blast wave of red jelly. She wheels and kicks the teeth of an enormous fish back into its throat, stomps to drive them through its brain, and twirls the axe about her hand to slice another in twain. But the whole point is to keep up the pressure. She doesn't have a moment to breathe, like she'd want to after all that.     And she's caught at the intersection of Xion, Candy, and Hibiki, all three of them launching direct attacks. Xion's comes from all sides at once, and she calculates instantly that she can't block them all, and Candy's machine gun fire is from one direction, his illusions from another, and Hibiki from a third. Scáthach's eyes leave light trails from their lightning zigzag appraising them all. Then she drops to one knee and slams the shield against the ground.     "Cleasa Iontach ~ Caer Lios Scaith!" An explosion of sheer internal power rushes out from Scáthach in all directions, force of martial will expanding as a hardened, fog-white sphere, and intercepting the multi-directional attack. The constant pounding of Xion's coinguns and Candy's bullets causes it to rattle and crack, resonating unevenly from all sides chipping away while Scáthach waits them out and catches her breath. Hibiki's fist causes it to half-break-- and the psychic connection launches straight through and strikes Scáthach behind.
Lilian Rook	The warrior woman reels from the unexpected mental blow. For an instant, she releases her shield, leaving it wedged upright in the ground. Rita's tentacles have their one moment, and strike her from behind, wedging into the ridiculously dense scales of her fitted mail. They're somehow harder to pierce than a ship's hull; no wonder she caused so much noise when landing, Rita can't even tell how much it weighs. She feels the tips just barely break skin, blood welling from the punctures in the metal and leather. But . . . "Ah. No witch are you, then."     Scáthach brazenly grabs hold of the invisible tentacles faster than blinking. She pulls on them to reel Rita close, then reaches out to grab her by the head and ruthlessly smash her into the rocks, so hard to break the edge off the cliff and send her tumbling. A shunt from her elbow spins the half of her axe around her waist as a fulcrum, lashing out to cleave Hibiki in half through the neck. She's maneuvered close enough to her flung sword to kick it out of the ground with the toe of her boot at the same time, sending it spinning into Candy, right through his machine gun. The warrior breaks and lunges in the opposite direction, diving for her bow, and using her sling in the same motion, perforating Xion with a hail of stones scooped from the ground, fired prone in mid-leap.     She tumbles as she hits the ground, and rolls right through the field of stuck arrows, grabbing the bow as she goes, and snatching and stringing a bundle of hafts at the same time, smoothly sliding out in a crouch and pointing the bow straight at the sky. "Cleasa o'Skye ~ Marú Scáth Saigheada!" The entire barrage flies skywards, then disperses into a falling rain of perfectly spaced death, leaving no room to run as it showers back down. The individual arrows are bad enough, given how hard they are to dodge, but, with certain familiarity, the issue is that where they strike one's shadow, they inflict perforating wounds to the equivalent part of the body.
Kale Hearthward	Kale realizes the error he's made the moment Scatach kicks off - he's committed to his strafing run course, but the way she's moved means he doesn't have a solid intersection line on her anymore - he adjusts his angle incrementally to account for it - and she'll have an opening to attack him - he adjusts his angle a bit more to account for that. He does not account for her throwing her sword. At all. By all accounts, her aim is true, and he should be falling to the ground, lifeless, breathless, and possibly heartless in the most morbid and most literal sense. He does not. This is because *he* has accounted for not being able to account for things - his contingency wind spells fire off. The effect is subtle - a momentary westward wind pulling on the sword, a momentary eastward wind pushing on the bird - enough to change the fate of a certain kill into a close call. ... A close call that leaves the blade covered in blood, and Kale staggering in mid-air, but at least he's not dead. "Really should... have taken her more seriously," he says, as he air-brakes and turns, clutching at his side. "Right..." He finishes his turn, and - waits. He can't rush this next one. He doesn't have another set of contingency spells set, and doesn't have time to cast them, and he doesn't think he has enough luck left to just simply not get hit. So he waits, watching - and tries to spy his opportunity. When she's distracted, or when she has her hands full. Only then does he begin his next run, coming in as hot and as fast as he can, swinging for a third attempt with hopefully more success than the first two!
Trudy Grimm	"...And not the point," Trudy speaks the Shadow's thoughts out loud when she tries to breathe and finds she can't. Another wave of skeletal soldiers rises out of her shadow to join the Black Knight as he--finds himself somewhat outmatched in agility. But he is still something on the battlefield that requires Attention. He cannot simply be ignored, even when his sword arm is pinned through the shoulder joint.     The Knight plants his foot while the warrior woman uses his body as cover to contend with the closest skeletons, swiping with his shield arm. The angle isn't good; easily avoided but enough to throw off her aim; enough to force her to keep moving; until she dislodges her weapon and sends him sprawling. But rather than the cliff, the Black Knight trips several paces before it and collapses into his own shadow, disappearing without a trace.     Protected as she is by waves of ambulatory bone, Trudy Grimm is still subjected to arrows that manage to punch through her shambling defenses. Curiously, while arrows clearly find purchase on her limbs and body, the one that would've hit her book hand ricochets off of some vile magical field, crackling with sickly green light for half a second.     The Black Knight returns; rising out of the void at Trudy's feet. Jamming his sword into the ground, he hauls his shield upward to defend her from a more lethal hail of arrows; in the same instant her shadow void suddenly disappears. Returned to normal. She doesn't want a crapload of arrows in there buzzing around like angry hornets, apparently.     All the while, despite arrows sticking out of her in places, the witch draws magic out of the Grimoire to form the Gebu rune again; that familiar X that she twists from green to crimson. From Beneficial to Harmful. The Fire rune Kaunaz and Eiwaz the Death rune joins to form a trio when she thrusts it down into a runic circle at her feet, twisting a new curse.     The pain that has been inflicted on the Warrior of Shadows quite suddenly amplifies; a runic circle identical to the one around Trudy's feet erupting out of Scathach's own shadow, following her around as she maneuvers. At every opportunity, a length of chain fires out of the circle's runic lines, wrapping around limbs as bracelets and anklets. All burning like hot iron felt even under armor, all without actually burning anything; and all amplified by the witch's curse.
Ishirou	Ishirou was grabbed as he tried the bombing run.  The forces of the two collide and Ishirou was genuinely surprised by this maneuver.  There was only a brief 'oh no' before the world turned upside down and he was forced towards the ground.  However, despite the MASSIVE STRAIN that his unit was suffering from this forced maneuvering, he manages to cut the thrusters off and force the shift into humanoid mode.   This is followed by a storm of arrows.  It wasn't bad enough to be this close to the Warrior Queen of the Shadow Realm, but now arrows are...oh no.  He fires a barrage of energy pellets up, trying to deflect as many arrows as he could.  Some get through, hitting chinks in his armor made from the stress fractures from earlier.  Did she know to do that?  That's...insane!   His position is more than dangerous, it's life and death.  That position is being next to a very dangerous warrior who just managed to grab him flying at breakneck speeds, and managed to plan arrow shots factoring stress damage from movement.  He doesn't have time to worry, he has to act.  Acting is the only way to make it so he doesn't get plastered.  So that Lilian doesn't have to suffer this fate.   The arms of the Armor come down, not swinging directly at the warrior, but instead aiming the open palms towards her.  A barrage of electrical magic surges through, aiming to try and zap her before he dashes back.  He knows she'll probably push the advantage.  He has to seem like the weakest one here...and that's fine.  He can plan around that! His scans come to fruition.  He immediately sends data around.  Hibiki gets a massive infusion of data, allowing her to time her movement just right.  Likewise, so does Xion, aiming to coordinate so that their moves happen just at the right moments for their full effect.  Tamamo is factored into this plan, as a bit is sent her way.   Then he stops, and brings the large arm sword down, aiming to try and clash with her.  Aiming to distract her at just the right moment for this very complicated plan to go off.
Candy	Candy stands, bleeding, in a field of frozen arrows. His coat is checkered with puntures. His sleeves are blackened and tattered, his arms having stopped the brunt of the explosion from his sword-shattered MG. He looks up, at the hail of falling arrows, and spits. His dour demeanor soon shifts with the formation of an idea. You have no meansss to avoid her attack in the conventional ssssense. Fire with fire, then. I see the shape of it. A cacophony of power tools, assembly. Three squat, 155mm guns stand silently at the ready      All that Candy can manage, in a defensive sense, is to leverage his superhuman toughness against the storm of arrows, keep his head and vitals protected. In the offensive sense, he's very much not had his say, to his liking.      An arrow pierces his shoulder, as the hatch is unscrewed. "My 'common blood' burns too hot for you to put out!" Another strikes his leg, as the shell is loaded. The chamber is closed, hatch tightened, Candy pressing himself close to the artillery emplacement to low-profile himself into a less-lethal impact point.      Each emplacement goes off, shelling the battlefield in one-two-three bursts--but unlike what might be expected of an artillery bombardment, the high-explosive shells are eerily accurate. Candy looks more exhausted by the minute, and the reason is clear enough to anyone who knows about his talent.      The shells adjust their course in jerky, ungraceful movements, as if an invisible hand were guiding them. Candy himself flickers across the battlefield, exhausting himself to make each magically-conferred haymaker count, a human pincushion standing at the limits of his augmented physique.
Tamamo	Sakura, Tamamo hopes, will stay back behind her, just where she'd been bidden. The bunrei cannot afford to look back at her. Scathach is coming for her.     'Do not think I have forgiven you just yet. I am proud of my Senén for the love she has found. Prove it to me, so that I may be assured she has made no mistake.'     The demand resonates with Tamamo's heart, dangerously drawn to the fore as it is, in the moment. There are things she was born into another world, some thousand years ago, to prove. That weight, that raison d'être, has stuck with her. She wants, so very badly, to prove that what she's found is real and true, despite her own ignorance of its shape. She's always been looking for something based only on the suspicion of its existence.     "I would like nothing better."     Every layer of magic through which the dagger crashes heats it, until its a burning streak, transformed by degrees in too short a time for the eye to follow. Tamamo has raised her hand, as if to catch it through her palm, but by the time it reaches her, there is no blade left to it. It is a molten mass of mystic metal, crashing against her outstretched hand, and scattering in drops across her robes. Hissing pieces fall away, leaving smoldering trails on cloth.     The arrows are the greater danger, if not for herself, then for Sakura. There's no need to wonder whether the danger extends five paces back, ten, or a hundred. Tamamo holds that much respect for the Shade.     The liquid mass, that had been a dagger, Tamamo tosses into the air, transforming into lingering gouts of flame. In the same moment, her left hand summons -- or rather, materializes -- the Eightfold Blessings. The great mirror swings with a motion of her fingers, comes to rest against Sakura's back, and pulls her toward Tamamo, still standing at the center of her formation, where its wards are strongest.     She's drawing the girl to herself, not minding the present changes in her appearance nearly as much as she would if she'd had time to think about them, and attempting to raise her mirror again as a shield, when the arrows land.     There was no shadow for them to find, with the Sun being its own light, at the center of its constellation of protective talismans. Flames burnt some, but the hasty effort was far from perfect. Her shields are pierced by just one, the tip passing cleanly through her shoulder, lodging at its fletching.     Tamamo makes a sound, pained and shocked but mercifully low, as she reaches to break the shaft with her fingers. Oh, but is there even time for that? She can't prove herself, like this. She has enough healing supplies. It can surely wait.     "Now... now, feel this blessing, and this curse. 'My pull' may be strong, but you only know this in your thoughts."     The galaxy swirl of fox-fire had been dispersed, but not the coating of talismans surrounding her defensive formation. Turned inward, their activation strengthens her own flame, deceptively gentle. Her mirror raised, the light is reflected and focused. She reaches out to grasp, ignoring the distance between them, for her opponent. For Scathach's hand. A clear invitation, crossing worlds, to feel what she feels.     Accompanying it is an insistent gravity, a foreign but powerful light, a charm and a curse and a message, its components having no words. The mirror reflects and transforms Tamamo's feelings for Scathach's Senén, selfishly demanding she listen to that wordless outpouring, arresting her attention again and again while all others continue to fight her.
Cantio	Although Cantio's able to keep up with Scathach's movements visually, physically doing so is still giving her trouble. Part of her pride is wounded at having to rely on using tricks and teaming up with her allies so much here, but it's a wound she's gotten used to since fighting so many of them in the past. Now, it's actually rather refreshing, to know that such techniques are able to put someone like this in a bad position to fight from.   "I can see how. And why. She's done a lot with what you've taught her. Heck, she's even done a lot before finding you. Maybe it's-" 'Those caught up in grand fates usually do. And she is more tangled up in time and destiny than most.' "... Maybe it is her fate to become one of the greatest one day, but maybe it isn't. If we don't get the wheel you're protecting, though, we may never find out. That's why we have to fight, so...!" Cantio's eyes widen as Scathach fires countless arrows into the sky, forcing her to try and figure out... No, there's no perfect defense against this. There's not even a good one, just the defense that leaves her marginally less impaled in the process. That means bolstering her defenses, turtling up, and hoping for... She can't keep hoping for the best. That's the type of thinking that's always put Cantio on the back foot when dealing with anything. It's almost never worked out well for her before, and to do it again here would be a complete waste of everything she's already steeled herself for just coming out here. She starts sprinting at Scathach as those arrows fall. Her blade shifts into a wider shape that she keeps braced against her shoulder as it does what little it can to help deflect those arrows away from more critical areas, scraping noisily against the plasticky metal hybrid that makes up her armor and weaponry. The arrows that slip past her guard still strike her shadow, however, drawing pained winces and sharp sucking noises through Cantio's teeth as she powers through it all. Maybe it's through sheer luck, maybe it's the constant flashing sparks that appear with each impact of an arrow against her dispelling some shadows just in time, or maybe it's pure grit, but Cantio continues advancing. Her other hand draws out another greeble cartridge, this time a black and purple one. She brings down the sword just long enough to slam it in on the other side, followed by another distinct digitized grinding noise. Her armor shifts colors as well, and the sword housing it starts glowing with purple and black electricity while Cantio leaps into the sky with an explosive jump. Half of the thruster-like bits on her armor explode off her back to propel her higher upwards, and then the remaining half do the same to speed up Cantio's screaming spiraling descent towards Scathach with the sword aimed at cutting right through any defenses she might try to level against it.
Rita Ma	The arrows descending towards Rita are neatly cut out of the air by invisible blades, even as the girl herself looks stunned and nearly frozen. That was barely in question. Her shadow is more vulnerable: why would she need to protect it? Who would ever think to?      Three arrows strike the ground where her shadow lies. Arm, leg, side. There is a little blood; even her clothes bleed. There are also sparks, where the phantom arrowheads met their match. She suppresses her sounds of pain more effectively than she did her sounds of fear. Pain is knowable, manageable, and besides-      I have to be brave so nobody worries about me.      "Hasn't this been a good enough test already, Ms. Scathach?" Rita doesn't shift from her spot just yet, gingerly holding her arm. "How much we care about Ms. Rook... how much we need her to stay with us... those don't have anything to do with how good we are at fighting, do they? If 'love' is enough of a reason for us to have the Wheel, then it's..." She can't find the words to finish the sentence. Her expression firms up.      Rita's second skin shifts, concealing her scratches. She walks towards the Shade, gathering her resolve; a walk becomes a run, a run becomes a sprint, a sprint becomes a flying leap aimed at Scathach's back. Her hands are held out like claws to rake flesh.      For such a magnificently-skilled warrior, it would be the most natural thing in the world to turn around and cut her down.      So of course isn't the real one. The ability to create decoys is something Rita has avoided demonstrating in this fight. As Scathach deals with that one, Rita- having approached invisibly from a different angle- lays her hand gently on the warrior-maiden's armor.      Her hand glows an unearthly red. The armor glows red too. Then it becomes ghostly, translucent, immaterial. However indestructible that armor might be, it is simply no longer solid. Scathach is unprotected.      "Please, can we stop? Isn't this enough?"
Hibiki Tachibana	There's not much of a chance to feel any sort of way about her in-progress technique finding success. Scathach doesn't give any chance to. "Rita--!" Recoiling from her own attack, she can only barely call out for her friend before a body-wracking sensation of impending death hits like a truck and makes her eyes go wide.     At the last second before her neck is chopped through, she braces up one of her gauntlets to take the blow, and both the metal and internal machinery are chopped into with enough force carrying over to bowl her backwards and off her feet. Somewhere beneath all the steel, a gash was made deep enough to drawn blood, forcing a pained twitch out of the same hand as it's used to catch herself and halt her momentum.     "Ngh..." She just barely begins getting her breath back when the rain of arrows follows up, and she has to throw herself to the side to avoid being pincushioned. She swerves, weaves--until one strikes her shadow, and she chokes back a sound of mixed pain and surprise as blood is spilled. "It's like Tsubasa's technique--!?" The magical girl immediately shifts to full defense, no choice but to hold her ground and physically batter and beat aside as many as she can while damage begins mounting up.     Until Ishirou's data comes in. She gets what he's going for after a moment, and what he wants from her. "...Right!" So she suddenly moves in response, leaping forward and up at full speed. Raining arrows continue to be punched aside, and her dimming shadow on the earth is made less of a target. Higher, until she's directly overhead the legendary warrior--     Where she fires her Symphogear's thrusters to shoot straight down like a meteor, the piston within her undamaged gauntlet slotting back as the empty gap within it is left to fill with a golden shine. And with a roar, and her desire to help save Lilian along with it, she throws it down as hard as she can while Ishirou is running interference.     And when the mechanism slams back in on impact, the resulting explosion of force carrying through will crack and crater in the earth Scathach is standing on, attempting to slam her straight down into it.
Xion	Closing from the outside as Rita is grabbed and hurled about, Xion pushes closer to the Lady of Shadows, takes another step and is immediately blasted by a pellet-blast of full sized sling stones quick-flung while moving. Snap-reacting without hesitation, the Nobody leaps over a fallen and damage-shattered pillar that Scathach had used as projectile negators moments before, black-twist of a blade up and sweeping into the sling stones. Rather than any deflecting 'pkeww!' or fanciful effect, the stones simply embed into the matte surface at screeching velocity and lose all sound and momentum suddenly, embedded into the blade and sinking slowly. The peerless bow rises, and Xion skids to a halt, planting the vortexing blade in the ground and arresting her motion with a loop-de-loop arm pivot to land on the hilt, crouched. Both hands reach to her sides as decision wheels flash rapidly for her to begin re-selecting. Her left hand closes around the length of a spear, and her right draws a fuchsia medallion, which she holds to her chest. About her, like wings, two large dark arms reach down and take the spear from her grip, offered up to a phantasmal guardian shape that stands in her shadow. As her shadow, truly, taller and leaner and wiser than her - skilled in matters of war. The first arrow comes, a lethal drop of rain falling on her umbrella of a hair-do, and it is viciously struck aside by the guardian. A red mark appears on Xion's head, dripping like candy-red cartoon blood and leaving a thin red trail in sympathy to the deferred blow. The second, destined for her shoulder, the third her heart, and each casts scars reflected on both girl and shadow. But the guardian is relentless, effortful and vicious, protective and determined. Not a single arrow actually touches Xion, perched on the twist of a blade. Streams of sympathetic red roll down her arms, her legs, her the coat of her chest, drip red scar-streaks across her, and fall to the ashen ground. Where they fall, new 'blood' to the earth, the blade she perches on draws the droplets back in, smushing like blobs of mercury to the matte surface and slowly disappearing. Ishirou flies above. Xion watches, dutiful, receiving insights from every motion that Scathach takes, and forbearing her incredible feelings for the single-moment snapshots of learning she could receive from striking the arrows and feeling the impact anyway. Each lesson, born in scars of blood, diverted away, bided through harmlessly. A lesson of every kind of missile, every parable a projectile could tell. Hopping from her perch, she reaches out, seizing a strongly shared, strongly held, strongly burning feeling out of the air before her - Hibiki's - of love judged, of feeling questioned. With it, her hand closes around a fresh medallion of the Heart, the power crackling into a gauntlet-to-anklet gold band, from armlet at right arm to sandal-like wrap left leg. One massive power-coiling spring. Grasping her black blade again and raising it to touch the tip of her guardian-wielded spear, the weapons entwine and merge, leaving her with a single length of wood, helixed in matte black, with a wicked, shiny silver tip and a cardinal jewel at the cap. All the red marks, scars and color-blood, suck through the spring into her arm, twist down into her leg, settle into the spear. Each lesson a projectile could ever ask and tell. "Okay. Let me show you what I learned." Guided by the blessing of a skyward eye - Ishirou - Xion cocks back her arm and, standing, throws the spear which leaves her hand a black-helixed rail with all the strength to pulverize a mountain behind it.
Lilian Rook	A surging crackle of magical electricity flows into Scáthach. It's enough to release Ishirou, but his scanners tell him that it flows through her fitted armour and grounds itself out remarkably well. Metal armour of high enough conductivity is an insulator in the end, and hers is beyond superb. Of course, she has no idea that his tactical scanning and network even exists, so she isn't trying to change up her movements to deceive his simulations.     The Shadow of Dun Scaith fights on as before, now shieldless, but dancing through the hail of Candy's artillery all the same. Even when he stops time to adjust the shells, she reacts just afterwards anyways, weaving like lightning between blasts, shielding herself so that shrapnel and fire spalls against her armour. Of course. She's seen the trick for a month with Lilian.     Trudy's curse of agony strikes true. Scáthach stumbles and nearly trips, uttering a heaving gasp that fogs in the cold. The fact that she gets right back up from her slump and keeps moving with gritted teeth is insane. Any other warrior should be struck helpless by every nerve overwhelming them. Kale has his opportunity in the opening then, but even then it's only a close shave; Scáthach uses the bow like a fighting staff to fend him off, seemingly omnicompetent in the use of every weapon the Celts ever invented.     Sakura squeaks in alarm when Tamamo grabs her, not when the arrows fall. She collides softly with the bunrei's back, then clings to her clothes in confusion. As the arrows clatter off the divine mirror, she thinks to stammer a "Th-thank you, Lady Tamamo, but you really didn't have to . . . not for me . . ." Meanwhile, Tamamo's curse has more than its desired effect. Strangely, it even causes Scáthach far more pause than raw pain. Of course. A legendary warrior of a thousand battles would be no stranger to pain. Her tolerance for it must be equally mythical as well. But 'love', even only 'shared', is something very different. She stops cold. Her breath catches. A hand clutches her chest, another resting on her throat.     "A-ah . . . You should . . . cease . . . if you are not careful, I too . . . might fall for her . . . As more than a warrior."     She still has enough sense to react to an aggressive charge by Rita. There's a sense that she could do it while asleep. Scáthach can only 'read minds' through experience, not like Lilian, and has no idea Rita can create doppelgangers. The bloody obliteration of her clone by axe is all as she planned. The Shadow's eyes widen as she feels the weight of her armour disappear. "The Death of Heaven. How--?" she begins, distracted for the moment, but then the perfectly timed combination attack arrives, and there's no time for that. Ishirou has perfectly calculated it for her moment of vulnerability, while she can still barely focus from magic. Scáthach kicks Rita away and swings the same kick to launch the shield up out of the ground and into her hands. "Cleasanna Scáthacha ~ Dun Scaith!"
Lilian Rook	Cantio's sword bears down on her. The meeting of forces craters the cliffside. The wash of lightning scythes down the nearby trees of the glen and melts down rocks of the cliff. Cantio is left balanced in mid-air on her sword point, as the momentum of the attack is stolen from the instant of contact and bled out into the surroundings instead. "It is the fate of the Four Blooms to decide the future of humanity, after the Age of the End. She cannot escape it. As her matched Root, whose fate it is to guard and correct the history of humanity, we are bound together by destiny. Of course she is skilled beyond measure. As a Bloom of the sword, she--"     Hibiki crashes in too. The ground explodes upwards as if struck by a bomb. Ancient stones are hurled skywards. The corpses of sea monsters sublimate into red mist. Scáthach buckles, almost falling to her knees. Blood drips from the corner of her lip. She can't risk anything else. Not with no armour.     And then Xion delivers the coup de grace. As before, most of the force is directed around Scáthach rather than through her, by the transcendental mastery of her technique. The sea below blasts outwards in a rising, concave wall. The Bridge of Leaps bucks and rolls back along its entire length, as it had the day the Hound of Culann had crossed it. Scáthach strains against what she can't prevent from passing through her. Her heels slide through the broken ground. And then the shield is wrenched from her grasp, and launched at tremendous velocity along the supersonic current. One can see it hurled over the sea, and crash into the faraway gates of Dun Scaith.     Scáthach herself rolls with the impact with superlative grace, bouncing off the hard ground and tumbling past her spear that she'd hurled at Tamamo earlier. She rolls to her feet, the spear gripped in both hands, point touching the ground, her entire body lowered and tensed. Blood trickles from her forehead and past her eyes. She's finally made an expression. It is a wild grin. "Cleasanna Gáe Bolg ~ !!"     'Please, can we stop? Isn't this enough?'     The Shadow catches herself. The tension of her marshaled power hangs in the air like the moment between seeing the flash of nuclear fire through the window and the instantaneous death arriving. Then, blessedly, it bleeds away. She lowers her spear, stands up, and then sighs out ten lungfuls of air. She audibly begins catching her breath, wiping the blood and sweat from her brow.
Lilian Rook	"Your skill means nothing to me. I was already asked, and I answered. Valour. Valour is everything. The Bridge of Leaps tests one's Valour, not their martial prowess. All warriors are less skilled than I; what matters if they should have the bravery to be worth my training. If you truly trespassed into the Land of Shadows out of love --out of devotion to Claíomh Bláth; to my Senén-- then that alone would give you valour enough to face me. If you had fled in the face of a superior foe, I would know you to be liars. If you had fled in the face of pain and death, I would know your love to be weak."     "But you speak truly. This is enough. Forgive me; for a moment, I was overcome with the intent to fight you with all my strength."     At long last, the warrior maid finally stands aside. "The Wheel of Lugh is yours, but only for a time. I have no allegiance to the Tuatha de Dannan, but it was a father's gift to my prized pupil. You will return it, or I will have no hesitation in hunting you down myself. And at that time . . . You will return my Senén as well. I will not keep her for a year and a day. I have no illusions that I could prevent her escape, should her heart pull her away once again. It is clear to me now that her soul cannot be carved into a spear. But there is much she still must learn, as a Bloom of the Sword."     "I will not bargain. Give me your oath."
Trudy Grimm	Once the maiden of shadows ceases her hostilities, Trudy's response is rather immediate. The Gebu rune appears above her hand, then twists itself with the Algiz rune; Protection. As these dissolve, shedding blue sparks, the twin curses alleviate. Both the suffocation of drowning and the agonizing heat fade away like a bad dream.     The Grimoire snaps shut with a ~thump~ and she places it back down at her hip, hanging by its strap. The Black Knight lowers his shield, covered in arrows. Collecting his sword, he sinks into an extension of the Witch's shadow. That shadow then reaches out, scooping up the scattered bones of her other warrior waves, clucking her tongue with a "Come back, guys, you did well."     As she does the equivalent of picking up her toys and putting them away, Trudy comments, "I've only an interest in it so long as it helps a friend of mine. Returning it once we've accomplished what we aim to do is something I have no objections to." Flashing that genuine, shark-toothed smile of hers, she offers, "It was lovely to meet the warrior who learned my homeland's runes and brought them to other lands. And it was an honor to see you in action, if only briefly."     Turning, she glances towards Tamamo, raising a hand to shield herself from the brightness, then turns her attention to the others; "Ishirou? Mister Hearthward, are you in one piece?"
Rita Ma	"But you speak truly. This is enough."      Rita breathes out and crumples to her knees when those words are spoken. It's not from injury, or even from exhaustion- just that when all the anxious stress leaves her, all at once, she can't find a convincing reason to stay standing.      "Thank you, Ms. Scathach. You've been really generous," she manages to say. After a moment: "What was that about 'blooms' and 'roots'? I'm not sure I understand at all. Keeping human history on course... what does that mean?"      That promise is not hers to make. She keeps quiet and looks to Tamamo when it's asked.      When she does finally get up, her destination is the other Bloom. Rita wears a weary, hopeful smile. "Thank you, Ms. Sakura. We couldn't have made it here without you. That weight in your heart... does it feel a little lighter right now?"
Ishirou	Ishirou glides back, he's already trying to desperately look forward, and predict as best as he can.  For a moment, he realizes that she isn't attacking, but rather she had ceased hostilities.  He pauses for a moment, realizing that they managed to survive.  They managed to at least pass her test.   He sighs, falling back inside his armor, and just feels completely exhausted.  He hurts too...and the armor is going to need some work back home.  There is a moment, and the armor vanishes back into the subspace pocket.   "I don't want to keep it, I just want it to help.." he says, with a nod, agreeing to this.  "I won't keep it, I swear." Though to the other, that's Tamamo's call.  In other words, he'll support whatever decision she makes.   "If such a fate rests on her shoulders then...well all I can do is support her.  If I didn't have any faith in her, I wouldn't be here," he looks towards the Lady of these lands, "Thank you for letting us borrow this." He looks over towards Rita, and offers a hand up if she needs it.  "Thanks for...being here, despite everything." He also smiles at Sakura, "I'm sorry we haven't had much time to uh...meet.  It always seems like something earth-shattering is happening when we do."
Tamamo	'A-ah . . . You should . . . cease . . .'     But she doesn't. There's too much she has to convey. Sincerely. Desperately sincerely, as if to ask, 'this is it, isn't it?' She can't say, all on her own, that she's found the answer to her grand question, the end of her quest. But maybe a human could let her know that she's on the right track. The desire to know still burns within her, and like a flame, it consumes and persists, and for that flame, she insists.     All the great efforts come together, ending with Xion's, through a series of acts Tamamo can scarcely understand to look upon them, that guardian figure most of all. Whatever it might mean, the fight ends. And then--     There's much that Tamamo should do. Could do. Her healing supplies are comparatively untouched, this time. She's put so much more effort into showing strength, just now, rather than protecting her allies. She could think of a few reasons why, if she did stop to think. She could see to Xion's bleeding, or check Rita's wounds. She could easily afford more for Kale, for Ishirou, for--     the arrow.     It hurts.     She breaks the shaft between her fingers, flicking off a sprinkling of ashes. With her lips tightly closed and her jaw set, pulls the shaft out by its fletching, half-hunched over Sakura, as she'd still been. Both halves fall. The wound begins to heal only when it's been cleared.     '. . . but you really didn't have to . . . not for me . . .     She manages a smile. She's already feeling better, in some ways. In others, she can't fully suppressing a growing worry. "Did you think your role finished, my dear Sakura? That would make both her and I quite sad."     If she could see how her own face looked just now, if she turned to see into her mirror, she'd realize one of the things worrying her. It's that niggling, restless fear that had, for these past two years, never been founded, yet never dissipated, that if her appearance and presence stepped over that line, became a little too far from 'human,' then -- something. Something would surely happen.     'It is the fate of the Four Blooms to decide the future of humanity, after the Age of the End.'     Ah. There is something to grab ahold of, to worry over in concrete ways, to know that it is a thing that deserves concern and to show it. So much easier than the thoughts that won't fully form.     And yet, it isn't a thing to speak of now. She merely understands.     'Forgive me; for a moment, I was overcome with the intent to fight you with all my strength.'     That she cannot understand this is the surest sign that Tamamo is no warrior.     'Give me your oath.'     "When my work is done, my promises are burned and drawn into being, the Outsider is rejected, and a protection of the Sun joins that of the sword of her ancestors, then I will return the wheel, and the authority it carries."     There is a little more. "You know, now, I think, why I came to tempt her away from you. Had I not, perhaps, you would have carved her as you wished. If you do understand this, I will not bar her return."     And then, "Of course, if you do not see, I would show you, still. We may take our time."
Hibiki Tachibana	After the fact, Hibiki is sent half-tumbling half-skidding away from Scathach, her grip on the ground used to turn herself around even while moving to continue facing her. Just as the Shade's expression has gone wild with battlelust, her own body is tensed and primed to keep on going, adrenaline and Tamamo's blessing pushing exhaustion aside. That spear is hoisted, and she--     Stops herself, blinks, and glances to Rita - and then, back to Scathach. Just as slowly, the rush of conflict and heightened emotions drains away until her ready-to-lunge stance just sort of turns into the magical girl dropping down onto her hands and knees, and then stumbling back up to a stand. "...All your strength? Hah..." Now that she has a quiet moment to think straight, she can appreciate how that would have gone. Claíomh Bláth. My Senén. I will not keep her for a year and a day. I have no illusions that I could prevent her escape, should her heart pull her away once again.     ...And what she says. The lingering sentiment from before is still there. That unpleasant sensation that comes with being told what she feels 'isn't enough' that she doesn't particularly want to feel herself.     But she also has to acknowledge that what Scathach feels is also for real. Very much so. She's seen that more than enough. "Alright...that's not my promise to make, but I don't think we planned to keep it forever in the first place." She says that a little on autopilot, much more genuine when she slightly averts her gaze and speaks into her scarf. "...Thanks. For letting us take it...and help her. That's all we wanted. And for...caring about her too, in your own way."     After all, the fight has ended and they have an agreement, which is the best thing she could have hoped for. There's a lengthy sigh, and maybe to avoid having to awkwardly look at Scathach while she secures her oath from Tamamo, she also joins in on addressing Sakura. "Yeah, um...thank you. What Rita said pretty much better than any way I could put it. I'm glad we had you here...and that you got to help with your own two hands. Maybe sometime we won't have to get together because of...uh. You know." This sort of thing.
Xion	It isn't Scathach, the Lady of Shadows, that stops the fight. Xion can read that flow, pivots on her heel to reach and grasp and tumble. There's still farther to strive, more to stake, more to try. Her hands reach, and fresh blades leap into her hands from spinning keychain rings that flare from selection wheel into being. The smile, ready-maddened, and-- 'Isn't this enough?' It hadn't occurred to Xion to ask. She had come to this land, ready to fight until Satisfaction. Her scope of the woman, touching her weapon-bloom and single-moment perfection, had left no room for -ending- the fight on some term other than that. Shaking-handed, Xion completes her spin-out, releasing the two weapons she had drawn from nowhere back out into it, breathing and trembling and not at all as ready to unleash some legendary blow. The Guardian, about her, is gone as a ghost, sent flying with every lesson and scar now across the water and pinned to the wall of Dun Scaith. Empty-handed, Xion whistles like a teakettle of tension. "Phew!" She heaves, a big sigh. "Thanks, Rita. For thinking of stopping. I--" She blink, clearing her vision, and looks to Scathach. Tamamo has the promise, a sealing of matters and conclusion of 'business'. Warrior's, witch's, and winning compaions. "-- got caught up in the same feeling I had when I came here the last time." Xion taps her foot on the ground beneath her. "It's easy to get swept up in something bigger than you." With an afterthought-wave, Xion reaches out and up. The planted Starlight, from at the start of the fight, disappears from where it had been stuck, at the top of the hill, and flashes down in a shooting star into Xion's hand, where she shoulders the single blade, and wipes her forehead with her coat-sleeve. "Well. I guess I worked it out of my system. Good job, everyone!" She totally did not, but it was certainly an excellent moment for their fellowhship of love.
Candy	"...yeah, well, you talked shit about where I come from," raggedly gasps Candy. "I had to fight you anyway, 'cause I wasn't gonna let Lilian down," he huffs, "But that just made it personal." He slaps the side of one of the guns, burning his hand. "Ah! You motherfucker."      He spends the next few moments silently collecting himself. "I fought with the people in 'my lands.' Bled with 'em." Candy takes a deep, shuddering breath, wincing as he leans upon the Turquoise Mandate. "Don't call them people soft."      He's not that great at collecting himself, it turns out.      "You got my oath. And I'll give you another oath, too," he says, as the flames on the weapon dim, and the smoke blows away. "You talk shit about my people, the blood of my parents, or how willing I am to blow my own ass up for someone I care about, you're gonna have another fucking fight on your hands, ah? And trust me, I'll *start with the goddamn artillery next t--" A coughing fit overwhelms him, and he tips over, falling face first into the dirt. He doesn't utter anything, but his face screws up in a mixture of pain and embarrassment. There's surely a colorful mental tirade going on--he's a little too spirited to bother hiding his expression.      Slowly, Candy picks himself up and sulk-limps over to rejoin everyone else. Oath given, outburst had.
Tamamo	Tamamo does look at herself in the mirror, after Rita mentions it. Her expression returns to an odd unreadability. "...oh, yes. I see."
Lilian Rook	Scáthach tilts her head slowly, sizing up Trudy. "You look nothing like a norseman." It's weird. There it is again. The sense that Lilian probably would have said something similar, in a dry, British deadpan joking way. The same way she sort of brushes off Ishirou's and Hibiki's thanks with aloof dignity, and quirks the corner of a lip at Candy falling over himself. "You are braver than I expected. But blind anger does not valour make." A pause. "Your skin. Your frame. Your face. They are soft. Only your hands are rough and hard."     Sakura breathes a sigh of relief in Tamamo's arms as the bunrei starts recovering. "No . . . of course not. It couldn't end so easily. But if, between you and I, one of us had to be hurt, I wish it would be me. Nothing so terrible happened this time. I can accept the way things are. And I'm glad. This is the first time this has ever happened. But please. You're already more precious to me than most. Even more so to Lilian. If I could bear your pain, what would one more drop in the ocean be, for something so important?"     She turns and smiles to Rita. Weakly, but not sadly. "It does. I wish only that I could have somehow aided you more, but now that would be the same as wishing something awful happened to you." Beat. "I'm happy that you're starting to feel better." It breaks into a giggle for Ishirou and Hibiki both. "If you ever should want to find me, I will be at Lady Tamamo's side in the Dragon's Garden. You may, all, visit me at any time, for any reason."     "It was my duty from the start, to care for the Claíomh Bláth, whenever they may appear." Scáthach replies dispassionately to Hibiki. Then, in a different tone, "But she has made it very easy to. All the Blooms are shaped by pain. I am gladdened to see that she has retained some of 'herself' despite it." There's a weird little subverbalized laugh. "And it was not unpleasant to share Dun Scaith with a woman, for once. I had not realized how tired I have grown of hot-blooded and unruly men. Two centuries was not enough reprieve."     Scáthach looks at Rita curiously. "You are less informed than I expected, for companions of Claíomh Bláth. Roots, Branches, and Blooms exist in every layer of the world, so was it woven from growing and fruit-bearing things in time before time. Even humanity has them. The reason there are four is lost, but we know of one another, when one inherits the mantle."     "The Roots of Humanity spread themselves deep in the early Ages, ensuring stable ground to build humanity upon, and rich drink for humanity to grow, all to be buried and forgotten in time, our reach invisible. Each Root one day bears Branches. Those who inherit those designs and live amongst humanity, passing them down in the latter ages. They are many and spread wide, reaching in all directions and climbing into the future, providing the sun-soaked bones upon which one day one will support a Bloom."
Lilian Rook	"And once comes the right time, as with all growing things, a bud blossoms into a Bloom. A new and flowering thing of fragile beauty. One that contains within it the possibility of what might be. As all flowers, a Bloom fashions from itself, a Fruit, and within it, a Seed. Once the long winter of humanity comes and passes into spring, those seeds will decide the shape of what rises from them. As the final step of humanity, a Bloom exists to bridge the final age, and . . . whatever it is that comes next, with their very being."     "So it has been written since before writing. Surely even you have noticed it. My Senén has within her the potential to become something none of us could ever be. And for a little longer, that shape is still in the making."     The Shadow doesn't extend her hand or anything for Tamamo, but the sense that she is understood and acknowledged is somehow both automatically implicit and well-comprehended. "If you are the one my Senén has chosen to love, then it is within your right to tend to the tree as you see fit. I will look forward to her return." There is a brief, hard laugh. "If the Claíomh Bláth decided she wished to blossom into a weapon, that is her choice alone. I am a thing of the past. Merely the footing for her to grow upon. It is not my place to countermand her. But, in truth, I would have been disappointed to see it. My Senén turned into another spear."