Scene #8043: A Sea of Flames in the Suburbs

Owner	Pose
Ritsuka Fujimaru	Emergency sirens blare from the alarms surrounding a suburb not far from the coastline, warning all those within earshot and then some that something dangerous is or will be happening. In this case, danger has already reached the suburb, and even those who can't hear the alarms for any reason can certainly see or feel the town being consumed by flames. To that end, the sirens serve more as a warning to anyone who might even think about approaching the place, and the raucous laughter in the middle of it all might as well be pointing directly at the person responsible. A figure clad in black armor with short white hair can be seen standing atop one of the burning homes, brandishing a great white and black flag while directing a horde of wyverns to torch the rest of the buildings. "Burn it all down! Not one of these buildings is going to be standing by the time I'm finished here tonight!" She shouts in fluent, yet somewhat rough French while sweeping the flag sideways, causing another backyard to erupt in flames. She appears to be moving away from the center of the town with the blaze progressing ahead of her. If she continues moving at this rate, it's entirely possible the flames will reach the neighboring city just outside of this suburb's limits.
Kale Hearthward	Kale Hearthward is on the scene! He surveys the area from the air, looking around, seeing if he can spot anyone in need of trouble before anything else, and calling their positions in, all while trying to steer clear of the wyverns. Of course, the person causing all this needs to be dealt with, or they'll just go on continuing to set things on fire. So once he finishes a quick sweep, he heads towards what is presumably the ringleader, perching on a convenient bit of not-yet-on-fire architecture of the house she's using. "Kale Hearthward, Paladins, and you've got about ten seconds to drop that flag," he says, eyes narrowing, and one hand reaching back to grip onto the handle of one of his swords. "Drop the flag, corral the beasts, hands behind your back while you've still got hands."
Vergil	There's always that old creepy house no one talks about, choked with weeds and ivy that has as yet proven surprisingly resistant to the Frenchwoman's arson spree. The front door of it is abruptly kicked down by a man in blue, cleaning a katana of some greenish slime, only to be greeted by a vision of hell. He first looks to the dragon, then the woman of the flag. Lines connect in his head. The dragons respond to her call. She has a flag. Flags are signalling devices. "You there," he says coldly, striding over as he sheaths that katana and extends a hand out. "That flag. Give it to me."
Corona Arclite	With all the sirens blaring and flames roaring and dragons also roaring one might not even hear the clomping of mechanical footsteps upon the suburbian pavement. Visually, on the other hand, the dieselpunk power armor is hard to mess as it comes into view. The gunmetal grey constrated by construction yellow, saftey orange, and warning green marked with hazard steps give the impression the thing is built out of various pieces of industrial hardware. "Tarnation this is already a mess," Corona grumbles from the cockpit, and gives the rollcage a good thump to make sure it's locked in place. "Good thin' Ah brought the heavy equipment." The machine turns at the waist, and for a moment flames can be seen reflecting off the lenses of her goggles. But industrial sized fires isn't something she's unfamiliar with. Corona flicks a few controls and pulls on one of the arm operator levers. The industrial power armor raises it's right arm towards the nearest blaze, the trio of grippers rotating to fold back against the arm as a nozzle emerges from the center of them, and it starts spraying the inferno with flame suppression foam.
Blemishine	In most situations, one would expect a burning suburb to be dealt with by the usual emergency responders. You know. Police evacuating civilians, firefighters stemming the flames, all of that. This, however, is not most situations. Mainly on account of the dragons. And the flagbearing witch commanding them. Which is why one of the responders today is a young knight in white armor, hair beating behind her as she rushes in from the same direction the blaze is threatening to spread as if to stop it in its tracks. That's not going to happen of course, but it does give her a fast track to push in, shield in front of her to ward off any flames in the path, towards the center of all of this - her. "Blemishine, Paladins." She starts in the same vein as Kale, stopping a short distance away and putting herself into a defensive stance--she's grimacing, at least partially from the heat. "But even if I wasn't, nobody could stand back and let this happen! What exactly are you trying to do here!? ...You wouldn't set fire to this whole place for no reason, would you?"
Charlemagne	"It's one thing to be a menace, but why do you gotta make it a French thing?!" A voice can be heard calling out to the Altered Saint from up above. The voice sails through the air in a much more proper French. As she might look up she might find what looked like well. . . A castle. . .Yes, a castle was above the suburban area. Upon that flying castle stands a man, arms folded over each other in an outfit of white and blue. His hair spiked black with a splash of white upon it, and eyes that looked down upon the Avenger as if the clear sky of a perfect day was staring down upon her. With no motion he hops down from the edge of that flying castle as it fades into the ether and with it, a sword is drawn only for it's shape to change to that of a lance. With one swing as he descends a chilling wind fills the area and ice fils the landscape. Attempting to calm the flames and act as an impromptu barrier of ice to keep the flames spreading. By the time the young man lands atop the building he hits the floor like a feather, his body light as he stands up once again joining the others who have decided to impede upon this heated battlefield. Even Charles raises his blade towards her along with the others with an overly excited smirk. In French again he speaks to the Avenger, "So, think you've cooled down a bit to back away. . ." And then the next part follows in English, "Or you gonna keep being a hot-head?"
Ritsuka Fujimaru	It's a bird! It's a pl... Bird! Jeanne squints slightly as Kale arrives, shaking a bit as he issues his demand for surrender and breaking into laughter moments later. "Is that what you're looking for? Someone to parade around in a striped jumpsuit whiel you wave their banner like some kind of hero? Then come at me!" Vergil, too, arrives, and his demand actually has her pausing for several moments. She stares at Vergil, then his katana, then at Kale, then back at Vergil again before resting the flag against her shoulder. "... Did this suddenly become a thing for you people? Hmph! Well... If you want it, then you'll have to take it!" Corona's arrival actually manages to catch Jeanne's attention, too, despite not uttering a single word to the arsonist herself. If anything, it seems to rile Jeanne up more as some of the flames start getting put out from that concentrated foam. "Do you really expect to be able to stop it without even striking the source? You must be some kind of really overconfident idiot to think that!" When Blemishine pushes her way through with that shining shield, meanwhile, Jeanne manages to calm herself down juuust enough to start chuckling darkly. "Heh. Wouldn't you like to know? I'm feeling generous today, so listen up! I'm doing this because I want to, because these people deserve to have their homes turned to ash and rubble!" That doesn't really explain a lot at all. That familiar language strikes Jeanne's ears, and she looks up as a whole ass castle shows up. Jeanne narrows her eyes as something about the sight seems to be setting her off more despite the fires' spread slowing down more with Charlemagne's ice wall. "Cooled down? I've only started to get fired up, you damned Englishman!" That, or it's the fact that he's switched from French to English. That certainly gets a rise out of her, and Jeanne draws her flag across the rooftop as the flames around her kick up in intensity. "Now if you'll all excuse me, I think I'll have to pass on your oh-so-generous offers. Here's my counter-offer..." The fires churn around Jeanne, and she points her sword towards the group as her wyverns start to gather in the sky overhead. "How about you all be good and become my pets' next meal? They could go for some fast food!"
Vergil	A dry chuckle comes to Vergil's lips as Jeanne Alter tells her to come and take the flag if he wants it. "Oh, gladly." His hand dips to grasp the handle of that katana... but only now does he become cognizant of other people being here. Making threats, telling her to stop. His face creases with annoyance. "But, I'll not have anyone say that I needed help to do it. So I'll leave you to deal with the rabble first." He turns his back, and starts to stride off to find somewhere to sit (not easy with all the fire) when the Servant's counter-offer reaches his ears. '... become my pet's next meal' she said. Leaving her with this lot might mean she loses, and he's not about to rip the flag from her corpse. There's no pride in it. "Actually," he turns around once more, a smirk on his face. "A counter to your counter-offer. You give /me/ one of your pets to eat," He looks at the wyverns flying about. "And I'll lighten the load for you." The katana is drawn and pointed at those who would oppose Jeanne Alter.
Ritsuka Fujimaru	Vergil makes his own counter-counter offer, and Jeanne actually stops for a moment. The gears are turning as she squints at him cautiously, glancing up at her wyverns when he indicates his willingness to assist. There's a part of her that wouldn't want to accept the assistance of another person in her path to conquest and spreading her legend once again, but... Tactically, trading a mere wyvern for a mysterious powerful swordsman is a sound decision. Aesthetically, the colors match, and he's not too bad looking... If nothing else, it might be better than her last attempt with those paintings. "... Hm. I don't need this load lightened, but this should be amusing to see. Go ahead, then!" Jeanne shouts as she waves one of her wyverns down to Vergil, letting it rest nearby for him to get his feast on. "Take your pick of these pissants when you're ready, but don't dawdle too long. We've got a city to burn!"
Kale Hearthward	"We use orange nowadays, not stripes," remarks Kale, but without much emphasis behind it. It's . Credentials presented: check. Attempt to detain and apprehend: check. Target uncooperative: check. Target issuing threats and continuing to destroy property and endanger lives: bonus checks. Right now, Kale would be drawing and swinging, with no further words exchanged. 'Talking things down' is for other people. Besides, something about waving a flag is putting him off. ... And then Vergil steps up. Kale's stance shifts, slightly. There's space for further words, after all. "Really." Okay, maybe not that many words. "Fortunately, I owe you a beatdown..." He leaps, and his rocket boots fire off - coincidentally setting the railing he was just standing on on fire. "And I'm going to settle that here and now!" he finishes, as he draws and swings his sword at Vergil all in one rapid motion.
Charlemagne	He can't believe he's been called British. he can't believe that this other white-haired guy's decided that of all the things to do he decides that he's gonna go join the black-armored Servant. "Oi if you wanna join the losing team that's all on--" He stops and watches as she all but lets one of her wyverns become food for the guy, "Wait, what, are you serious?! You sure you wanna do that man, I can't imagine that's gonna taste good. . .Or not make ya sick." All the same though it seems that the battle's going down and if that's the case it meant that they were going to have to deal with them. Thankfully though, he seems to already making a good impression on Blemishine. To whom, she's making a rather great impression to him as well all gussied up in as a knight of her own. To which his eyes look to her own, "Alright Miss Knight, looks like we'll be this one's dance partner. While I'd wanna give a proper introduction to all of you, but for now, just shout out Charlie if you need the back-up. In the meantime. . ." He presses off the ground with such force, yet it's still as light as a feather as he darts off, his blade raised as he attempts to push past Jeanne's defenses. "I'll lead the vanguard! Toryaaaaaaaa!!!" Blade raised diagnolly across his chest, he swings at a slant testing just how much of a fighter this woman is when she's not hiding behind her wyverns.
Corona Arclite	As Jeanne makes snide remarks at her Corona just turns her head in the woman's direction, and smirks. "It still got yer attention didn't it?" The gush of suppressant ends, the nozzle retracting and the grappler clicking back into it's normal hand formation. Pneumatics hiss as the legs step, rotating the lower body at the waist to match the torso's position. "Mighta jus' left y'all alone and done the damage control, but now ya went an' called muh out..." The whole drama with Vergil deciding to side with the dragon arsonist is only given a passing regard, as it's not important to her when she came to put a stop to the rampaging fire breathing monsters. "Iffen they're lookin' few a meal," Corona pulls a larger level, and with a click-a-clack of machinery a rotary cannon unfolds over the left shoulder pauldron of the power armor, "They can chew on this!" The weapon thrums to life, spinning up to speed and sweeping streams of gunfire across the sky at the wyverns, as Corona sacrifices some of it's firepower in an effort to saturate a larger area with its output.
Blemishine	Is that power armor? That's powe--is that a /castle/? That's a castle in the sky! And that gallant figure dropping down, stemming the flames... ...This isn't the time to get caught up in that sort of thing, though. Her expression goes from wonder to dead-serious, and the blonde knight goes back to staring straight at Jeanne. "Because they deserve to...?" She sounds rightfully confused, trying to process that, before bracing herself in place and furrowing her brow. "...Whatever they've done or you think they've done, I'm almost sure it doesn't give an excuse for destroying everything you can see!" Now, her hand finally goes to the ornate blade at her side, which is pulled free and swung through the air once to level it out at her side. She looks ready to go--until Vergil makes his cross-counter offer, and it's accepted in turn. Blemi looks aghast for just a moment, but settles into her resolved look afterwards. Maybe just a bit more than before. Kale goes, and the horse-tailed girl takes that as her cue to also push forward. Shield in front of her, dashing ahead in a surprising burst of speed for a convenient piece of burning rubble nearby the home their opponent is standing on. "Don't worry, sir! I'll be right behind you! Mr. Heathward! Be careful!" Heedless of the fire or heat while calling back to Charlemagne and then Kale, she leaps and lands on it for an instant, then immediately kicks off the perch to make it to the rooftop. Coming down right at the side of the dragon witch, where she spins into low slash with her sword for a two-pronged attack!
Ritsuka Fujimaru	"Orange? That's... Garish. Easier to see you're blind, at least, but-Pfeh." Jeanne shakes off the distraction, then laughs again as Kale and Vergil start getting into it. "That's one out of the way, then... Don't disappoint me, dragon eater! As for the rest of you..." Charlemagne's disdain for Vergil's choice has Jeanne laughing derisively again. "Were you hoping to win through sheer numbers? Things don't always go according to plan, I'm afraid. Still, I'll give you some credit for facing me anyway. Most knights would be running scared right about now, seeing the fires under my control!" Blemishine's words, meanwhile, fall on not-quite-deaf ears. "Oh, I know perfectly well what they've done. They put me to the stake as 'thanks' for protecting them. For saving them from the English!" She shouts with far more outright anger in her tone than she had earlier, eventually breaking into laughter again moments later. "It's their just punishment for betraying me. It's ironic!" Corona, finally, gets a laugh in return. Jeanne sure does like laughing a lot, even if it's in that crazy sort of way. "Damage control only works if you're stopping the damage. I'll give you points for being confusing to listen to, though! What..." She squints briefly. "What are those spikes on your shoulders even for? Is that a new style or something?" With the two sword fighters coming in at opposite angles, Jeanne has her work cut out for her trying to keep them from slicing her apart. Her sword comes up at Charlemagne's blade coming from above while her flag swings towards Blemishine's coming from below, and the four weapons cross against her with nasty shearing noises as metal scrapes against metal and draws first blood when it digs into her flesh. Corona's shots, meanwhile, sweep across the ranks of Jeanne's wyverns, taking down a few of them before the rest scatter and start flying about wildly to stop being such easy targets. "Not bad... But you heroes can do better, can't you? Quit holding back!" Jeanne demands as her sword and flag burst into flames, retaining their shape while she makes broad sweeping motions at Blemishine and Charlemagne to start her counterattack. Each slash and thrust is followed by a swathe of flames that burst forward with each attack and linger afterwards, making it slightly harder to get in as Jeanne presses the attack. The wyverns, meanwhile, start harassing Corona with strafing run-like maneuvers, diving in to pepper her with fireballs or clawed kicks before flying away to let the next one come in to do the same.
Vergil	Four of them, but only one feels like stepping up to face the white-haired swordsman. A familiar face. "Ah, the birdman. You're free to choose flight over fight," Vergil says, that cocky smirk on his face. Kale does choose flight in a sense, rocket boots flashing as he lunges, slashing at Vergil. The demon just... sways slightly, moving the barest amount to the side and leaning back to avoid the swing, but it still slices across his chest, cutting the fine fabric and into the flesh underneath. But it's healed in the same instant, his heritage causing the injury to vanish. Even the clothes mend themselves. "Not bad, decent speed," he concedes, his eyes panning skyward. A cluster of phantasmic blades have appeared in midair, blades pointing down before abruptly descending, aiming to skewer Kale and pin him down as he rockets by. And in a flurry of blue afterimages, Vergil is there to capitalize. Striking twice with a left-right swing, he swipes the still-sheathed katana at Kale, before undrawing, slashing, and leaping up with it in a single fluid motion, a rising spiralling slash aimed at carrying Kale skyward. But before he can recover and exploit being in his element, Vergil is back on the ground in a blue flash, the glint of his blade sliding back into it's sheath. And then space distorts around Kale, a flurry of phantom slashes assailing his form.
Kale Hearthward	"What-" Kale glances up just in time to see the blades descending. Immediately, a wind spell fires off - a contingency put in place, that blows the blades away - or tries to, the wind not making much headway on the blades. He rolls, as a last ditch effort - but Vergil himself is there capitalizing on the opening, slicing - knocking Kale upwards, just in time for a set of phantom slashes to lash out at him. "... Hff.." he jets it, trying to get clear, get some distance between him and the swordsman on the ground. How many options does Vergil have, to just launch attack after attack like that, when he can count his own major moves on both hands...? "At range, then," he says to himself, forming an air-bomb in his off-hand, and pitching it Vergil-ward - and then another, and another, rapid-fire casting, trying to keep pressure (literal and figurative) on him so that he can't launch another devastating combo...!
Corona Arclite	"Deal with her." Corona calls over a shoulder to Charlemagne and Blemishine as stomps on a pedal under the console of her ride, and the mecha armor does the same as it's mechanical legs engage. "Ah got her flyin' varmints." Pneumatics kick in with a hiss as the machine jumps back from the first wyvern diving at it. The ones playing fireball have better luck as multiple fiery projectiles explode against the mecha armor exterior. Chunks of metal and other materials clunk on the ground as it's knocked loose, but Corona's tendancy for redunant layers of structural support pays off. Corona is rocked around in the cockpit but the safety restraints hold. Tactical readouts flicker on the HUD inside her goggles. Wyverns maneuver to come diving at her position again. "Tch. Ya think yer all so fast..." A pair of mecha sized versions of her handcannons deploy in the machine's grippers, and if someone looked close enough they could see Corona's controlling them directly wired into her own gunslinger gauntlets. It translates her own skills to the machine's scale, which is much more suited for opening fire on the incoming beasts.
Charlemagne	To say that Jeanne was bringing the heat was an understatement. Her flag waves and with it even the air around becomes overwhelmed with heat, even as one breathes they can fill their lungs fill with fire. It's no surprise that even as Charlie tries to get out of the way that he finds himself getting burned, "Guuuaaaaaahh--" A shout leaves the knight's mouth as he leaves a rather uncool impression of himself unfortunately. Even being taunted leaves a bitter taste on his lips and yet, even now he finds himself muttering, "Put to the stake. . .So that means." It doesn't take a genius to figure out this one's identity. "The Saint of Orleans. . .Is that really suppose to be you?" It felt like an oddity for certain to see the form in front of him as it was, he always wondered as a Servant what it'd be like to meet the Saviour of France, though to have it be like this. . .It left a very unsavoring sensation. "So we gotta try pushing a little harder, O. K. I guess we need to try dazzling a bit then." Even with a burn running across one of his arms now that her attack had torn through his armor he still finds himself smiling and with it. . .Something begins to occur. The sword begins to envelope in a light and then. . .He begins to speak a set of words. At first his voice is low, "Bradamante. . .I'll be borrowing your strength. . ." Suddenly the form of his blade had changed into something that looked like. . .A shield? Perhaps so, but even then that light had still refused to fade, if anything it had only been getting brighter, and brighter thus far. . . "O' Light. . .Become a helix!" Forcing that shield in the direction of Jeanne she'd find herself enveloped in a tunnel of swirling lights. Dazzling, brilliant, if not blinding lights more brilliant than even that of her own flames. The young knight slowly begins to step toward her once more, at first at a measured gait, only that his speed picks up into a dash. . .Till his feet start coming off the ground as he all but begins a shield bash towards the Servant with a battlecry upon his lips. "Bouclier d'Atlante!!!"
Blemishine	"Gladly!" Blemishine calls over her shoulder in confirmation towards Corona, more than happy to allow someone far better suited to the task to handle the flying enemies. And also, because she has her hands full over here - the temporary deadlock of weapons is broken and Jeanne has the initative doing it, forcing her to fall back a step. The sword is lowered and the shield comes up-- Though the flaming strike smashes into it hard enough that plenty of force still carries through, along with flames licking past the edges and sweeping across her armor. "Ngh...! Put you to the stake...? These people--" She sounds confused again, with that clearly not adding up in her head. There's no time to actually worry about that, though, with strike after strike coming in to force her back. Painful as it is, the knight holds her ground and bides her time, watching for an opening in those wild swings...and the first one she notices, she dives in and weaves between the blazes to get back into close range. This time, it's her shield that's used to strike, coming in for a frontal bash straight to Jeanne's face to force her back. "...That doesn't sound right!" That's as much as she can get out in the moment, following up with a stab of her blade from behind her defensive position.
Ritsuka Fujimaru	The wyverns continue their hit-and-run tactics against Corona as she and her machine fire as one into the skies above, taking down more of the flying beasts even as the fires rage on in that ice wall contained area. The lucky ones just get shot in the head while the unlucky ones lose control of their flight and crash into the nearby ruins. They continue returning fire at her with as much fervor as before, however, with those she nails at longer range opting to dive-bomb themselves directly into the mecha suit with their undying loyalty to the Avenger. "'The Saint of Orleans'... Heh. So at least one of you recognizes me. Yes, you should know full well why I'm not going to let these traitors' descendants go. They don't even speak proper French anymore!" Jeanne brandishes her sword and flag with another flaming flourish as she turns to Charlemagne, chuckling darkly when he calls upon the power of Bradamante to empower his sw.. Shield? Shield. "And just because you're one of them, Charlemagne.. I'll make sure you burn just as much as they do!" Before she can continue pressuring him, however, Blemishine comes charging in with her own shield charge in turn. Even though Jeanne's flames burn hot, there's still too much metal to simply burn through before the pincer attack smashes right into her. Caught off guard, the dual impact knocks Jeanne right off that rooftop, and she only catches herself at the last moment before landing on a burning police car bearing the insignia of the Quebec Provincial Police. "It may not sound right to you, Blemishine, but it is. You still have a chance to escape and look it up if you don't believe me. Once I'm through here, Orleans will be next!" Jeanne thrusts her flag through the roof of the cruiser as she points her sword at the knights. Multiple dark points appear from the burning ground around her, then erupt as a wave of spears that fly towards them. As she does this, there's a visible ominous energy starting to swirl about Jeanne, almost as though she's preparing for something bigger!
Vergil	Vergil watches Kale in the same way that a scientist watches a dissection subject. The knight flies back, and Vergil begins to chase, slowly approaching, no doubt relishing in the fear he's instilled. A bomb lands at his feet, and he breaks into a run. And then another just as the one behind him goes off, the blast pushing him forward into this one's radius. As strong as he is, he's still subject to physics. He gets knocked back, and hit with more and more, the dust and smoke and flames from repeated explosions obscuring him. "ENOUGH!" booms from the cloud, and in a flash of blue, it's like the world itself moves aside to give Vergil room. The dust and flames part, the last few bombs Kale threw are pushed back, and Vergil stands there changed.His form no longer human but almost insectoid. His sword integrated into his arm, clad in a chitinous sheath. His coat melded with his body, the blue spread where his body is not now black, the tails now low-hanging wings. Thick, stubby silver horns jut from his head and his teeth are sharp and bared. He moves, somehow even faster than before. Immediately, the distance Kale gained is crossed, and the sword is drawn from that sheath in a vicious slice aimed to spike the knight to the ground. Vergil is there before he even lands and bounces, moving in a frenzy to cross him up from every angle, sword constantly swinging and those phantom blades flying at him with every pass, burying deep. And then Vergil tosses his sword into the sheath in a slick, practised move, and the buried swords explode, popping Kale into the air again. "Now you meet your end." Vergils demonic power builds, forming a visible blue haze around him as he assumes a traditional iai stance, watching Kale ascend. And then he moves, and the world holds its breath. Reality shatters like a flatscreen that just had a remote thrown at it. Slashes fasters than the eye can see carve Kale and the world around him. And there at the centre of it is Vergil, lovingly sheathing the katana. The moment the hilt meets sheath, he reverts, and the surrounding houses, lawns, mailboxes, and Kales are torn to shreds.
Corona Arclite	Give the beasts credit, they realized they were at risk at a distance and decided to come in up close and personal. Brutally so. The first slams into the mecha armor, tearing up the pavement as it skids backwards from the impact. Fumes belch out of upward exhausts as Corona finagles some more power out of it's systems. Another Wyvern dives in to hit the mecha, but at the same time Corona retracts one of the blasters and uses the grappler to grab the beast around the neck as it's trying to tear past the cockpit cage. "Ya varmits are even uglier up close!" the vixen retorts, even as the grappler is squeezing tight in an effort to strangle the creature. But it's not the only one assaulting the mecha armor physically as more dive in. With a grunt Corona hits the foot anchors to brace the machine, then heaves on the controls. From the waist up the torso engages and wheels around, spinning to whip the one wyvern it the chokehold towards the others! Then keeps going, whirling around to keep pummeling with it's armored arms and grippers at the beasts getting into close combat range!
Charlemagne	He can't help but smile a bit now as she finally had called his name in return. "Mmm, and here I thought the legend went something like you forgave them at the stake. Though I guess. . ." That sentiment wasn't exactly shared by this form of the once would be Saint. "Mmmm. . .Haven't you ever heard the sins of the father aren't the sins of the sun or someth--" Before he can even continue she's already promised that he'll be soon to receive just the same kind of punishment as one of 'them', to which he can only assume is just someone Jeanne is mistaking for being French! "Bring it on!" It's only then does he see what her next attack entails. Multiple polearms appearing from the flames as they encircle the two and with it he just can't help but smile as he begins to guard and parry as much as he can against them, "Tch. For someone who wasn't a fan of the stake it seems you don't have a problem using th-Eh--!" He grunts as he feels one cut insides but still holds his ground even if he's starting to feel a bit sluggish. "Alright. . .Two can play at that game though. . ." The shield returns to its previous form, a serrated sword that's raised above Charlie's head, yet it begins to shine anew again, "Paladins, join my fight!" From that blade twelve individual lights appear and separate from the sword before appearing as their own individual polearms. Raising his blade down he points it towards the one enveloped in darkness, "GO!!!' Like with her own spears they begin to fire and dart towards her, but they dance through the air with much more tact and grace as they begin their charge. Each one's attack partner unusual to attempt tracking with just one's eye alone.
Kale Hearthward	There! Yes! He has Vergil on the ropes! He just needs to keep up the pressure, and- And Vergil crosses the gap between them, and - and... that has to still be Vergil, but he looks... demonic. Kale brings up his sword, quickly, into a defensive position. It's the first thing he can think of to do. This saves him, somewhat - which is to say that he doesn't utterly die, as he's able to block at least some of Vergil's barrage of blades. It then saves him not at all as Vergil spikes him to the ground, and then back up into the air, and the remaining blades explode. And then everything tears to shreds. And Kale's... gone. Did that tear him entirely to shreds? There's bits of cloth, fluttering to the floor... ... Silence. Stillness. A conspicuous lack of bird. ... The answer of what came of Kale comes a few seconds later. When everything got torn to shreds, he jetted, going full speed in just... whatever direction he had clear. And then, when he had a moment to get his senses back, he turned around, reoriented... and returned. Kale comes in at maximum speed, dropping back down from the sky. He's not sure anymore if he can beat Vergil in an out and out fight, but if he can just get in quickly enough, forcefully enough, and most of all unexpectedly enough, maybe he can get one good lucky hit in...! At this point, luck might be all he can rely on.
Blemishine	"What...?" With Jeanne battered off of the rooftop, the knight just barely manages to get that out in response as she shifts herself upright to look down at her. She made a mistake getting caught up in what the woman was saying--because now she's on the backfoot as the horde of spears come flying up to gut them. Her eyes go wide, and she makes a split second decision. She jumps forward, off of the building to get back to the ground. She avoids the majority of the projectiles aimed at them in that way, though she still has to plow through several more on the way down. Her shield blocks one, another is batted aside--the third slips through her guard, skimming along her side to tear into her white armor and singe it black, throwing her offbalance with a cry of pain. The fourth-- Is cleaved in half down the middle as she comes down, the edge of her sword wreathed in a brilliant, sparkling light. She doesn't waste any time after landing re-steadying herself and sprinting forward to close the distance again, narrowing her eyes at the buildup of power. And at something clicking. "Holding the sins of someone's family against them.../definitely/ isn't right!" That gleaming blade is, the moment she closes into range, swung for Jeanne's flag-arm. An attempt to force her to defend, where the now razor sharp, light-imbued weapon will leave a far deeper carve than before. The whole time though, her expression is tense. "...I know that it's easy to do, though! Still--I'm not going to run away! You'll have to go through everyone else, /and/ me!"
Ritsuka Fujimaru	The wyverns targeting Corona have their work cut out for them as they crash into the armor and find themselves getting caught in mid-air. Those with enough sense to keep breathing fire at her do so, but others prove to be pretty useful as bludgeons against the rest. Perhaps sensing the danger in getting too close, they start backing off and flying further into the sky once again. Those that are left form a circle above Corona, but they're leaving a rather conspicuous gap as though they're expecting something. "Is that what the legend is today? Tch... As if." Jeanne actually sounds angry about that one as she scoffs without a hint of amusement in her tone, glaring upwards at Charlemagne despite that ire seeming more directed at the French in general rather than him specifically. "Forgiveness... Hmph. That's nothing more but a lie told by nobles that want to feel better their betrayal having no consequences." She breathes in slowly as Blemishine reiterates Charlemagne's initial talk about the descendant's sins, and Jeanne starts to smile that deranged smile again. "Isn't it? They may not have committed the crimes themselves, but they sure did live the good life off of it, didn't they? The traitors got to live out their lives, their descendants got to enjoy their prosperity and grow fat off it later... Maybe they didn't do it themselves, but they sure did get a good deal out of it!" It seems her rage against the French isn't going to subside anytime soon, and it certainly doesn't hamper her ability to face the oncoming onslaught in the slightest. The gleaming light coming from the power of Charlemagne's bonds to his paladins and from Blemishine's shining blade have Jeanne narrowing her eyes slightly at the radiance of it all. That momentary distraction, combined with Jeanne's already unsteady footing, means that she doesn't have a lot of room to maneuver as they start carving into her. The holy spears punch right through her armor and draw pained shouts from the Avenger while the light sword cleaves right into her with another bloody spray that stains the the cloth around it with darker patches as Jeanne staggers and nearly falls off the police cruiser in her haste to leap backwards to get onto more solid ground. "That's more like it, Paladins... Heh. Haha! Knights serving the Paladins? What a fun coincidence. This is just the kind of fight I was hoping to return to!" The darkness in the air intensifies around Jeanne as the flames surrounding her burn even brighter, massive amounts of mana being expended at once as she raises her darkened blade to the sky. "If you're so desperate to die for these French rejects, then stay right where you are!" She swings her sword in front of her, pointing it towards the trio of Blemishine, Charlemagne, and Corona with deranged smile crossing her face. "La Grondement Du Haine!" The flames surrounding Jeanne expand rapidly, bursting into the sky before raining down all over the place as a hail of yet more spears and swords. Each one is coated in those flames that have already been following her previous attacks, and they erupt into yet more flames when they strike flesh, metal, or even the pavement and concrete of the rooftops. They're conspicuously absent where Vergil and Kale are facing off, though, and her wyverns remain in place momentarily as if knowing where to stay to not get themselves exploded in the process.
Vergil	Vergil looks about, and does not spot any blended bird. "Hmph. Got away, did he?" He looks about, anticipating attack. The burning buildings offer little safe place to hide, so he instead looks skyward, through the smoke, and... "Ah, there you are." He does not do anything to avoid the impending strike. In fact, he seems to relish it. Drawing that katana, he assumes a defensive stance and widens his stance, awaiting the moment of impact, until...! The clang of blade against blade drowns the roaring flames for a moment, the swords grinding against each other as Vergil braces against the all-or-nothing strike. But oh, his own attack is his downfall. That massive reality-slicing strike had cut up the road underfoot, and the impact of Kale's attack is the last straw. It gives way, and Vergil's footing is gone, allowing Kale's blow to bypass his guard and score Vergil deeply. He cries out as they fall, landing in the sewers beneath the streets. He lands atop the tarmac that fell first and slowly rises, back drenched in who-knows-what. "Reckless. You remind me of my brother," he says, seething quietly about all this. "He could never beat me either." An array of those phantasmal blades appears above each shoulder before rapid-firing at Kale. Vergil blurs, moving in between them to suddenly sweep Kale's legs before grabbing at his throat, swinging him around (and also putting him in the path of the swords again right as they reach him) and slam him against the sewer wall. But this time, he doesn't stop at that. He quickdraws the katana and slashes, again and again, a frenzied flurry of iai strikes. More of those summoned swords hover there threateningly, ready to cut off Kale's routes of escape should he try. And then when Vergil turns away and sheaths Yamato, they fly at Kale anyway.
Kale Hearthward	Kale doesn't stick around after landing that hit. "Reminds him of his brother..." he mutters to himself. He continues on, trying to get clear - and finding himself targeted by yet another stream of phantom blades, slicing into him. He rolls to stay ahead of Vergil's aim - once again right into Vergil, and getting slammed into the wall for his troubles. "... Ah, this-" he says, blinking back into consciousness, as he watches the blades lining up. "I should-" The blades fly at him. Kale jets again, and jets hard, trying to get clear. And once again, he's gone, naught but scraps of fabric and stray feathers in his wake. This time, he doesn't come back.
Corona Arclite	It takes a few moments for the centrifugal force to bleed off and the armor torso to stop spinning. Then disengage it's anchors. One arm moves to put a palm against the rollcage as it mimics Corona lifting a hand to her brow and groaning. "Fergot how much of a whirligig that maneuver was..." Okay, back to business. Except she's already surrounded. Though the critters are keeping their distance. It's more like they're trying to coral the machine. Almost immeadiately eyes narrow at the gap. Corona is just the sort of person to find that sort of thing as suspicious. For all the good it does right now. Not when flaming weaponry erupts from the skies. "Aw slag!" Corona pulls back on the controls to leap the armor back from several of the spears hitting the ground. Only for a sword coming at a different angle to drive into the center of the machine. "YIPE!" That would be Corona bolting up from her seat to avoid getting her legs severed by the blade puncturing the interior, clinging to the bottom of the rollcage. "Well, the emergency release on the restraints work..." But now she's got her hands off the controls, and can't do much as the blazing weapon barrage continues. Several more drive Jeanne's point home, until the mecha armor, while already fire, staggers backwards into one of the buildings that was on fire, and structurally unsound. The entire thing comes down on top of the machine. That's going to take time to dig herself out of.
Charlemagne	In fairty tales, it's always easy to see good conquering evil, to see the good guys saving the day. Though. . .As the flames erupt and envelope. Though this Saber, this knight, this paladin also knows that. . .Things aren't like in the Fairy tales, that no one is exempt from the potential of loss, and in this moment as he feels heat bubbling up from within his form, as he feels the rage of an Avenger being given true form, he can't defend himself. There's no running, no hiding, no shielding away from all this pent up anguish. If one wasn't ready to take it head on, than it meant nothing. It's for this reason that even as a radiant knight, as one that was trying to uphold justice and peace. . .He finds himself on the receiving end of someone who's just got more grit to them. "Aaaaauuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!" Flames erupt and send the light as a feather Paladin reeling till he eventually slams into a nearby building. The sensation of heat is overwhelming and if not for some forms of protections provided to him, he'd likely be attributing himself to the same fate as the Saint once upon the time. Still as his eyes grow heavy, he looks out for someone. Not for his would be attacker, no, he looks out for the other knight. He looks out for the horse knight, Blemishine. Even if he's failed he at least wants to make sure that she's okay. Even if he's not been able to stop Jeanne D'Arc in her wrath, that at the very least drag the knight away lest she receive a cruel fate. After all, she seemed so young. In his mind, such a worthy knight shouldn't meet such a swift end. . .He's seen too much of that in his time already.
Blemishine	"I'm not intending to die any time soon...!" She says that, and true to her word, she's also not backing off even as Jeanne takes a more advantageous position. Shifting away from the vehicle, she actually doesn't give chase right away - staying back and waiting for a moment. That build-up of energy before didn't escape her, and she knows it's about to be unleashed. She doesn't know in what form, but if she can just push past whatever it is...! Flames roar, and blackened weapons descend from above. It's a hail of attacks that exceed even what she was expecting, and the knight has to immediately go on the move and focus entirely on protecting herself to try and keep herself clear. On seeing them explode on hitting the ground, she doesn't even make the mistake of trying to defend with her shield, instead option to use her shining blade to parry or carve down whatever she can't avoid. There's too many of them...! I-Is this...how deep her hatred runs? But there are still gaps in where they're falling! If I can just get to--ah!? She can only keep it up for so long though, with too many weapons to keep track of and trying to find a way to turn it around. She slips up--and one of them hits far too close, the flames slowing her down and forcing her to deflect a direct-hit with her shield. Her grip is tight enough that it doesn't leave her hand, but Blemishine herself is rocked by the impact to the point she goes flying back off her feet and off into some aflame rubble displaced by her slamming into it. It takes all she can to defend herself from eating it too badly from more. She seems intent on trying to weather the entire thing...but by the end of it, when it's all died down, she's still barely struggling to pick herself back up using her sword as a support, black soot coating most of her armor. "Can't...let...you..." She manages only a few words before her strength gives out, and she falls forward, with debatable levels of consciousness.
Vergil	Vergil watches Kale jet through the hole in the road and exhales, running his hand through his spiked hair to slick it all back into place before leaping up to reconvene with Jeanne Alter. He looks about at the devastation, the blades and spears scattered everywhere, and his voice when he calls out to her contains a begrudging respect. "I am done with mine, and you with yours I see. Now, fulfil your end of the bargain." Assuming she does call down a wyvern, Vergil draws his sword and cleanly beheads it in a single strike, before extending a hand at the body. It begins to crumble into ash and ember which fly towards his palm and recombine, taking on the shape of... a spear? It's shaft is patterned with scorch marks, the blade is long and wide, suitable for slashing as well as thrusting, and a model dragon is coiled around the socket. "Intriguing..." he mutters, before stepping back and giving it an experimental thrust into swipe. The model dragon breathes flames in the wake of these attacks, prompting Vergil continue into a combo. The flames keep coming, taking the shape of a standard attached to the spear. Faster and faster, and the flames go from red to blue as he stabs, twirls, and thrusts the weapon. "An acceptable weapon," he says, dismissing it in a flash of blue. "Congratulations on your victory, madame. And good luck with your continuing arson." A small nod of the head before he turns to leave.
Ritsuka Fujimaru	Jeanne pants lightly as the adrenaline from battle starts to wear off, lowering her sword arm as she looks over towards her opponents. She sees one of the burning buildings crumbling around Corona, and she wrinkles her nose slightly once she loses sight of it. "Such a machine wasted on... Whatever that was." She hears and sees Charlemagne being thrown into another building, but she doesn't give chase. Instead, she presses down on one of those pierced limbs and rolls her shoulder slowly, letting the flames burn the wound just enough to keep the blood from flowing too freely. As she does that, she sees Blemishine going down as well. The temptation to keep going is strong, but Jeanne sees that subtle movement from Charlemagne in the distance. She starts laughing as more spears start 'pushing' through the ground again (actually they're just being conjured upwards), and... They disappear as quickly as they appeared. Instead, a few of the wyverns descend around Jeanne and the three she fought. They bellow in unison, then fly upwards again, conveniently knocking aside some burning rubble away from where Blemishine, Charlemagne, and Corona landed without doing so directly. "That should get people talking again... Hm. I see you've fought off that bird warrior as well, swordsman." Jeanne comments as she turns to Vergil instead, leaping over however many cars or other not-quite-building sized obstacles are in the way in order to properly address him. "Well done~ Now, as promised!" Jeanne waves down one of her remaining wyverns, and she barely flinches as he takes its head off. She does raise an eyebrow, though, when he absorbs its power as his own, then whistles lightly when it forms into that strange spear. "Not quite what I expected when you said you'd be eating it, but... This is fine, too." Jeanne laughs with a wild smugness in her tone. "Oh, believe me. I'm going to enjoy burning down the rest of this wretched town of...!" She squints as she stares at the side of a police car. "... What the fuck is a Quebec?"