Scene #8029: Wolf Among Heroes

Owner	Pose
Hiromi	The siren call of challenging opponents was too much. It was probably inevitable that Hiromi, the Archwolf who hungers for battle far more than meat, should find her way to this Shining Blue Galaxy. Once there, however, she still finds that few can properly stand against her. It's far from boring, but are these the greatest heroes that can be offered? Won't someone come and let her taste true danger? One could simply leave her be, and let her have her fill of fighting, to then wander back away again, but that would mean wrecking the small inroads that Rhongomyniad and Paladin interests have made into the area. Picking up blonde swordswomen and tossing them about, shrugging off the wounds they leave on her, laughing and calling for more, it all paints a poor picture for anyone trying to achieve some sense of order in the area, the Galaxy Police included. It might be an intentional insult, at that, though it's more likely that she really does just want someone of greater strength to come and fight her. Someone else with a few ranks in Divinity might even be ideal.
Rhongomyniad	A certain blonde Greek swordsman skids to a halt in the distance, face-down on the metal deck of the Big Blue Tank's filling station. Beside him, astride Dun Stallion, the Lion King observes the encounter in the distance from the shadows of her themed, maned helmet. Giving the horse a nudge, the King proceeds ahead. Perhaps it is when Hiromi is slamming around a person whose armor makes them easily mistaken for a robot that the King of Knights properly arrives, disembarking her mount. When she passes a young man in Western attire, he brings up his revolver to push his hat up by the brim. "Regroup the Galaxy Police. I will handle this." "Er? Yeah, sure." While Billy makes the necessary radio calls, Rhongomyniad ceases her advance. Her mantle parts, producing the telltale glow of the Divine Lance in her right hand. Raising it as the metal sheathing wraps around it, she twirls the weapon and jams the point into the ground, hand resting on the hilt. "God of Wolves, I presume," Her free hand raises, "If you seek a challenge, than these inhabitants of Etherspace are poor sport for you."
Hiromi	"I am the Archwolf." Hiromi says, but it's not really a correction. The overlapping meanings are carried clearly, and something undeniably divine, from her world's perspective, is carried within it, whether Hiromi happens to call herself that, or not. There is, importantly, a sense of 'uniqueness,' in that there can only be one such being at a time. How the Multiverse might interfere with that fact is unclear. There is no known other wolf like Hiromi active in this sector, at the least, making that more of an academic wondering. Without anyone within striking distance, she stands, close to the height of a knight astride, even on her feet. Considering. Judging. Sizing up an opponent 'who is not prey.' "Potential. They might have. Interest. But, do they? Do they grow?" She hasn't stuck around nearly long enough to find out the details of their existence. "You. A better choice. I lay my challenge. I've spoken it. made them feel it. You'll take my strength better. Won't you?" That's not quite the same as 'warning,' but it's as close as she comes before pouncing. In her own mind, at least, this isn't a mid-conversation ambush. She's just rushing to accept the implicit fight of having approached her with a weapon at hand. Even being hit by the shockwave of her impact against the deck will be dangerous, the clutching of her clawed hands more so, if she's allowed the follow-up toss, of horse or rider both.
Rhongomyniad	Behind the helmet of the Lion King, her expression is imperceptable; though those who know her would know her expression is nearly unreadable anyway. The King's posture does, however, shift slightly while Etherspace occupants scatter away from her to a safer distance. "They grow. They die. They are born again. Though made of Ether rather than flesh and blood; these beings are people; not homunculi nor constructs. And they are under my guardianship." She expected this response, though. The sudden pounce. Dun Stallion bolts in one direction; while the King kicks off in the other with a burst of magic. The shockwave of impact disrupts her graceful arc, resulting in a much less than ideal landing in a tumble. A second burst of mana rights her body, though, she she arrests the remaining momentum on her feet, digging the Divine Lance into the metal deck as a brake. Recovering quickly, she rights herself. As she wrenches the Lance free, she draws the weapon in a broad arc, leaving a gleaming trail of golden light that surges forward as a wave of distinctly Divine might. "Well met, Archwolf. I am Rhongomyniad," the King states evenly as she recovers from the maneuver. In her approach following the magic crescent, her mantle has fully parted, body clad in shining steel, "The Tower that Shines at the End of the World."
Hiromi	"'Born again.' They grow, how far?" Rather than waiting to see what her opponent does, Hiromi pivots, leaping sideways from her post-pounce posture, twisting into a four-point run for the rider, ignoring the steed. The magic wave strikes her -- she's definitely been hit, clothing slashed, skin broken, blood spilled -- but her wounds are already beginning to close. There's plenty of blood on her, from before Rhongomyniad arrived, but it's dried over whole and healthy limbs, at closer inspection. "Can they grow beyond you?" That question is somehow important, and unusually enunciated. The next strike is quick, weaving in deceptive footwork, taking advantage of Hiromi's immense strength to quickly redirect her body from one attack direction to another, combining a nigh-unstoppable might with appreciable speed. She's clearly wary of the lance, attempting to strike it far to the side to open up the way to a close approach and solid strike to her center.
Rhongomyniad	"I do not know," the goddess states, "Such a thing must be learned over time. Not the scant two days since my arrival." Her footing shifts as she approaches, "As for growing beyond me--" Her stance changes into one more aggressive, the Lance drawn back but aimed forward, "--I am a Divine Spirit. For them to match me would be no small feat. I do not doubt the possibility." She leans into a thrust-- which is knocked aside, leaving her torso completely open. The punch would likely liquify anyone else; with enough force to shatter the steel armor worn by the King of Knights as it knocks her away. Her landing is hard, and with no attachment left, the helmet bounces off as well. The King is not, however, dead. The faintest of breaths escapes, a low exhale, and she rises to her feet once more with her eyes closed. Raising her free hand, she rubs at the blood seeping from her lips, "I see. Stories of your strength...are not exaggerated." Those eyes open, luminous jewel-like green in the blue light cast off of Big Blue Tank, "I already suspected I would be a fool to take you lightly, but I see I must re-evaluate my approach." She doesn't move, though. Rather, the deck of the station suddenly rumbles. Panels flash golden, transforming from steel to whitewashed stone and swinging up to clamp around the Archwolf with considerable force. Only then does Rhongomyniad raise the Divine Lance, pointing it into the sky. "Release your light from the End of the World. Split the Heavens and Tether the Earth." The steel sheath surrounding the weapon's core unravels, exposing the golden light of the weapon's true form. Seconds later, an identical version-- though far larger, erupts out of the shadows of Space above the station.
Hiromi	"Beyond Divine Spirits. Do you hope they will? Do you guide, or guard, only?" Stone swings up to trap Hiromi. As if automatically, she holds her hands to either side, keeping it at bay, but it continues to exert pressure on her, threatening to clamp shut should she not maintain her force. Natural stone, rising from the earth, could never do this to her, but a castle is a symbol of civilization, and beyond the reach of her own authority. In the moment before she can decide to break through, the Lance reveals its form. Her eyes raise to that star-filled sky. Can she dodge it? 'No,' she decides. She could try, but that's a risk, and one unlike her. The light-formed weapon isn't just an anti-divine weapon, but a fortress destroyer. She would need to be nowhere nearby to do anything but take the hit, and she lacks even the earth, here in this sea, to form a fortress of her own. The best she can do is to take it head-on. The stone walls snap shut as Hiromi leaps from between them, launching herself at the incoming attack. What happens next is nigh impossible to see, first for the backdrop of light against her, and then for the heavens exploding, the very moment she makes contact, whether that was an attempt to hold it back, to redirect its path, or to parry it as she had on the ground. She would have tried grabbing onto it for her own, but this weapon is one made to reject both god and mythic beast, and she is one who should be a myth, in the opinion of some sane minds. It is a predictable impossibility that she lands on the deck again, merely smoldering, raw muscle revealed where flesh has burned away, knitting and regrowing, her spirit rejecting that rejection and reasserting her overwhelmingly aggressive existence. In that light's heat, blood turns to steam and hair to ash, yet most of her still stands. "Not taking lightly then. Good. You understand. Respect, I'll return." Though her white-bronze rings, fit over each of her limbs, do carry that characteristic sign of divine artifacts, they're not things that can be named by her strikes. It's purely her own self that provides that raw strength, her nature that provides the instinct, and her history that provides the experience to use it. The deck buckles beneath that gathering power at every step she takes forward, force traveling from her feet to her legs, to the twist of her waist, the rotation of her shoulders, to the extending of her arm. It is an extravagant display of simplicity, archetypal perfection in bodily motion. It's just one punch, arriving at a speed that grows a hurricane around it. Her healing-over wounds reopen with the sheer force of it, to which she pays no mind.
Rhongomyniad	The King of Knights follows Hiromi's motion when she leaps clear of the blocks meant to restrain her. The Divine Lance's aim adjusts mid-travel, meeting her in midair. She swings the Lance down to one side, remaining on her guard; fully aware that it would take much more than that to banish such a strong Divinity. "Mmm," a thoughtful noise escapes her when the Archwolf rears back up. Her position shifts to the defensive. Once it becomes clear just what she's in for, Rhongomyniad takes one step forward and brings the Lance down. Even she can tell there is no real point in attempting to restrain such might; and so she opts for a page out of the Wolf's book. To simply take it. It doesn't go well. But as the King of Knights sails off of the station into space, trailing shards of shattered metal armor on the edge of consciousness, she considers the impression that might leave. That even at the end the King refused to kneel, back down, or withdraw. Perhaps this outcome was fated from the start; but the King of Camelot never was one to back down from even a cursed fate.
Hiromi	Against an unstoppable storm, to lean into it is the most that one can do. Hiromi doesn't stop to deal with Rhongomyniad's final strike, this time, but carries through, letting that divine weapon strike her shoulder, head leaned to the side. A lock of hair scatters, though her bones refuse to yield. Watching her opponent fly away, the laughter has faded to solemn contemplation. There are others, here, but they are unworthy to hear further words from her. She turns and goes, having found and fought a worthy opponent, just as she'd wished. The destruction is considerable, though only a setback, should she not choose to return too soon.