Scene #8275: DF-1.5: The Skull Children

Owner	Pose
Cantio	LAST TIME 'We determine which nation, besides that one, needs the most protection from their neighbors. They may be the most willing to accept assistance, and give us oppritunity to prove our stance to the others.' 'Izumo, Tradnor, and Topaz first.' 'They'd be the easiest to get a foothold on, pressing situations, and all have a very ugly past with the god. It's a good place to secure our reputation, and encourage more members to join.' NOW With a course of action decided on how to handle the precarious situation unfolding on the continent of Legendra, it's finally time to start on the long path towards unifying the continent proper! As a sign of goodwill towards the kingdom of Topaz smack dab in the center of the continent, Cantio has purchased extra food from nearby villages to bring to the surrounded kingdom in the hopes of conveying the Multiversal forces' good intentions.. After hearing about the rise in attacks from roving bands of brigands, however, she's also opted to bring a few of Desperado's fighters along, four in all, bearing their usual faceless plates and futuristic swords and stun batons. A squad of twenty foot soldiers also accompanies the Elites, clearly volunteers from the nearby villages based on how energetic they appear and how little/no cybernetic augmentations are visible on their generally unremarkable armor and swords. They're clearly unfamiliar with the kind of technology being used to ferry them, too (a bus), but it doesn't take long to reassure them that they're safe inside it once they realize that that much metal would probably fare rather well against arrows. A few of their helmets look a bit fancier with little wires coming out of the side and visors, but they're clearly not as geared up as the Desperado fighters in comparison. OST: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsL0kZp5PDU On the way to the desert kingdom, however, a trio of caped men stands in the group's path. The leader, an older man with a beard that connects to his sideburns, steps forward while raising his hands out to his sides in a confidently broad stance. "Ho, travelers! Quite the curious wagon you've got there. Isn't that right, brothers?" He greets warmly whiel gesturing towards the men at his sides, as if signaling themt o speak. Neither the clean-shaven man next to him nor the neck-muscled man standing to each side of him actually respond. They just leer at the whole crew, rather blatantly signaling that they're not planning to be anywhere near as friendly as their leader. "... As I was saying. Care to give us a little peek at your wares? Something for us to remember you by, perhaps?" Although the man sounds friendly enough, there's something distinctly off about their mere presence between the stillness in the air, the smell of copper lingering around them, or the fact that they're all decked out on heavy armor that most certainly doesn't mark them as simple travelers themselves.
Wisconsin	For being a ship, Wisconsin sure has been doing a LOT of missions on land these last few weeks. Call it the matter of being a friendly, helpful, well-meaning member of the Concord. Come to an island nation to come do scouting, come make friends, and then you're in a bus with many people and they're being hassled by pirates. Bandits. Scoundrels. Wisconsin, being the good-natured lady she is, helpfully leans out of one of the windows of the bus. "Oh hello! I'm gonna suggest you take that bad attitude and go elsewhere with it. We're not in the mood to be fighting today if we don't haveta be." The ship girl is here in her actual uniform, the leather vest and skirt and the tattered Eagle Union flag at her hip. But none of that Other Stuff is out yet. "So just march on back to wherever you nice boys came from and let us get on with our day, alright?"
Sleek Shimmer	Dangerous times traveling always means that there's room and board or decent pay for anyone who can put up a fight. Sleek Shimmer, always having good uses for any of that, has taken up the mission as an escort for the group. For once, it's a situation that is well within her realms of familiarity. She has, however, been half-napping in the wagon, keeping her sharp ears open for any remote sign of trouble. The distant clinking-clank thump of men wearing heavy armor is unmistakable and with a start the little red fox darts out of the wagon and BOLTS LIKE HELL out of sight... counting on the likelihood that nobody from around here's going to consider a random animal to be a threat, or anything more than it appears to be. And, from there, she proceeds on a wide arc staying out of sight, aiming to mosey on up behind the band. She can hear every word and the smell that lingers on them and is very much displeased with all of it. And so she shapeshifts, form rocketing upwards and taking on mass and feminine physique, fur melting into her loose-fitting, flashy, and very fanservicey martial artist attire as always. "Heyyyyyyyyyyyyy boys," she smoothly calls out to the crew, tone lilting towards the sultry end of the spectrum as her array of four tails fans out behind her. "I'd be -happy- to give you plenty to remember us by." She raises a hand and slowly clenches each finger into a tight fist, making a show of it. "An experience you'll NEVER forget."
James Bond	Bond sits at the writing desk in an empty hotel room, on another world. A smoldering cigarette rests in the grooves of an ashtray on the small balcony outside, obscured from view by closed curtains. Bond pores over an open manila folder. Paper and photographs tell a story. Creation myths spin tales of eight heroes sealing away a powerful god. These heroes take thrones, and divide the world into eight pieces. Their descendants vie for control of the whole continent, without and within. Bond flips through pages with a furrowed brow, moving past the surface level details. There are those who want to unseal the god in the legend. This cult, for lack of a better word, is taking advantage of the geopolitical situation. Two lieutenants of a 'Goldark' aren't strictly human, but rumors persist within their nations that they have the ability to conceal this--confirmed by a Paladins operative during combat engagement. Lastly, one 'Scythe' is connected to the slaughter of a number of mercenaries and bandits, only one confirmed survivor--currently in the nation of Tristan. Bond closes the folder, drags the wastebasket from beneath the desk, and drops it in. A drop of 'aftershave' flash-incinerates it in seconds, as he briskly begins packing light, breathable clothes for traveling in the desert. Next step: contact R&D for his transportation. NOW Following behind the bus is an off-road SUV. Its square shape is hardly aerodynamic, and its Paladins drab paint job staunchly resists the rigors of the environment. Thick treaded tires grip the dunes well. When the bus slows to a crawl, Bond's hands calmly glide across the wheel, turning the SUV in a gentle arc around the rear to approach the obstruction. For his part, Bond looks every bit as unfriendly as the two silent men. His desert fatigues and the carbine at rest before his protective vest convey the air of a blunt instrument just as effectively as the sizing-up look he gives the other two. "This isn't a merchant caravan," he says after stepping out, 'polite' but flat. You already knew that, didn't you. "If there's something you need," he further explains, "I'd be happy to radio the Paladins and offer directions. As it is, we're on a tight timetable. So, if there's nothing else..."
Cantio	The bearded man grasps his chest dramatically at Wisconsin's response. "Bad attitude? You wound me, dear madam! We would never-" "Oi. Let's just get this over with." The clean shaven man interrupts him, already drawing his sword from his belt with a brief flourish before resting it over his shoulder. "They ain't look that dumb. Not like those other two." The muscled man laughs as he takes a jab at some people that don't appear to be relevant to this scenario. "They's already got one tryin' to make a break for it." The bearded man sighs (dramatically, of course) with a light shake of his head, only raising an eyebrow briefly at the muscled man as the latter seems to have his eyes fixed firmly on something else entirely that isn't the main group. It's not until Sleek Shimmer makes her presence more apparent that the other two finally glance in her direction. "Sounds like she's threatening us, Gasper. Now can we ditch this act already?" The clean shaven man asks, prompting yet another sigh from the bearded man. Gasper draws his cloak across his body, then throws his arm forward with his palm upturned. "You truly have no flair for drama, do you, Helm? But it cannot be helped, if our reception is this cold already." Gasper turns to Bond with a light shrug. "A shame, as at least one of you does. But no, you are quite correct, good sir. Madams. We are... The eternal Skull Children!" Gasper flares his cape out again, the air darkens around the three, and the dirt and grass all around them starts to congeal upwards. The muck writhes as it forms into human-like shapes, eventually forming into a group of fifty armed soldiers, archers, and cavalry surrounding the men. "We derive pleasure from tormenting weak mortals. Our most humble apologies, but you'll all have to die here." He taps on the brim of an invisible hat, and the mass of soldiers and cavalry charge forth at the group of Elites, bringing down their earthen blades and unholy arrows raining down on the crew as the horse riders spread out to find a proper angle to charge in from.
Sleek Shimmer	Sleek Shimmer only smiles as the men ponder her barely-veiled threats. It is NOT a pleasant smile. She is clearly ready for them to try something... but won't be making any first moves. Just in case they maybe back off and handle things like civil people. She does briefly flinch at the upwelling of power, but this is exactly the sort of thing she expects to happen during an encounter like this... and she answers in kind. Light in the colors of all four elements - Fire, Earth, Wind, and Water - emanates from her body, then swirls inwards and ignites with a crack into a filmy white aura as she harmonizes with them and throws a few kicks at the air. "'Weak', huh... I hope you boys are hungry, because I'm serving that word up alongside a knuckle sandwhich. Raw and unseasoned." Of course, powering up isn't going to get her out of the pickle of being surrounded. As the mooks close in, Shimmer darts and weaves between dozens of blades and arrows, many coming within a hair's breadth of her twisting form as she flips, cartwheels, ducks, dives between the goons. All the while, she's a blur of counterattacks and smooth motion. A leaping spin kick. A flurry of punches to the solar plexus. A snap kick aimed to send one goon into four more. Dropping down and sweeping the footing out from a soldier then driving a knee at his torso. Leaping at a target, grabbing his head between her legs, and then BACKFLIP THROWING him at more goons. Her moves are flashy and stunning to look at, and it's only the stunning gale-speed with which she's whipping them out that makes countering difficult. Yet it's impossible to go forever on luck and skill against so many numbers. Eventually, one of the soldiers gets a solid whack against her back, sending her tumbling across the ground. She recovers quickly enough with a playful growly hiss, the pain nowhere near enough to incapacitate her as she rises to her feet... the cut on her back steadily mending.
Wisconsin	"Weak Mortals, huh?" Wisconsin huffs as she clambers out of the bus. There are the distant sounds of turbines firing up, coming to full steam. Boilers ticking as they come up to pressure. And from the clear air, a massive array of hull pieces, turrets, and gun emplacements forms around the woman in a semi-circle. "That sounds VERY unseemly. The sort of thing nice young men WOULDN'T say." She cracks her neck, and pulls a massive sword, shaped like the prow of a ship, from a sheath in the rigging... Only to watch the men summon in a massive array of fellow soldiers. "...well now isn't THAT a trick." And it's a good thing she's got her rigging out already, because a mass of cavalry SMASHES into the side of her, splitting around her hull as they batter her with swords and spears. The plates batter inwards slightly from the damage, but almost instantly start to reform. "Oh. Oh is that how we're doing things? Fine. Alright." She sniffs, and sighs, and shakes out her arm. "We CAN dispense with the pleasantries, I guess." A trio of spotting drones fly off from her back, scooting up into the air to start getting telemetry for her. She's looking for... The Bald One. Yes. Yes him, he will do nicely for a target. She braces for another rush of the cavalry, but her big 16-inch forward cannon is already tracking... what's his name? Helm? Helm. Yeah. Him. And then the air shudders as she fires a full volley at The Bald One, massive blasts of energy looking to smash him into pieces, as a lesson.
James Bond	They derive pleasure from torment? "You should run for office, then," dryly replies the British man, as the charge begins. He breaks into a sprint, as arrows fly, impacting the sand around him. The SUV, only a few feet away, grows nearer. A soldier in his path is met with a flying dropkick, stronger than it ought to be, much less for a man his age. Bond is back on his feet in no time, sweeping with the carbine in short, controlled bursts. An engagement of this size is no longer foreign to him--not after his ventures into Lilian's Earth and the numerous times he's been this outnumbered there. The only difference is that these are people. A brief lull is all he needs to adjust his watch. As the cavalry search for angles to come in, the SUV forces their hand--panels in the roof swivel open to reveal two imposing tubes, each of which telecoping upwards. Explosive bursts rattle the chest, as the mortars fire. Telltale whistles sound in the air, moments before impacting the sand around the cavalry, violently sending up plumes of disturbed earth.
Cantio	"My dear... Whatever made you believe we were nice or young?" Gasper replies to Wisconsin with a hearty chuckle even as he gestures at Helm and Tsuvan to join the battle. They crack their knuckles before heading on in, with Helm (the clean one) directing the troops while Tsuvan just looks ready to start carving somebody up. Sleek Shimmer's martial arts efforts reveal that the soldiers are weirdly sturdy despite being formed from literal dirt and rocks and grass. Whatever unholy magic formed them have made them fairly resilient against such strikes, especially those that would be otherwise devastating to a regular person's anatomy. Throwing them at each other proves to be a fair bit more effective, but their movements to mostly avoid each other suggests that they might actually be aware of each others' presence even while being thrown about. Helm, spotting an opportunity to catch Shimmer while she's occupied with the troops, raises his sword high overhead, then brings it down quickly to launch a wave of concentrated sword energy(?) towards her while the soldiers themselves are ready to step aside just before it can cleave through them. "Well, la-de-da, lady. What gave you the impression we'd be anything near nice?" Tsuvan (the bald muscled guy) replies to Wisconsin as he levels his own blade towards her, advancing among the soldiers when she calls for an end to the pleasantries. He might have actually been expecting that volley from above, though, as he grabs one of those earthen soldiers bodily and just hurls them right at the incoming blasts, letting that false body soak up the initial brunt of that shot. He still gets knocked back a fair bit from the rest of the shots still impacting against his armor, but he pushes through that initial blast while launching his own trio of fireballs right back at her with a great upwards sweep of his arm. "In a past life, I suppose!" Gasper replies to Bond with another chuckle while readying his own sword, holding it in front of him as he sees Bond getting into that SUV despite the cavalry swarming all over the place. Before the mounted soldiers can charge in, they're blasted head on by those mortars, scattering the formation and forcing them to find a different angle to attack him from instead of charging straight at what they can only guess is fixed forward. Spotting one such possible angle, the cavalry charge right at the SUV with their lances couched at their sides, trying to ram right into it from both sides at once. Desperado's mercenaries and Cantio's recruited volunteers aren't going to stay and do nothing, either, as they join the Elites in the fray. Along with the equipment difference, there's also a massive gulf in combat skill between the former and the latter. While one Desperado mercenary is handling a few of those soldiers at once, the recruits are struggling just to stand toe-to-toe with those summoned soldiers. It could be a messier situation if not for the Elites making up the difference, though, and the recruits with the fancier helmets... They actually start to pick up the pace after the first few exchanges, too. It's a shift that's hard to ignore, too, as their fighting styles shift rather abruptly from the usual conscript style of 'swing and hope to hit someone' into a more efficient style with few wasted movements. It's like they're mimicking the martial skill of the Desperado mercenaries themselves as they aid the Elites in holding the line. Cantio, meanwhile, seems content to stay with the bus and observe the battle for now, tapping away at her tablet to take all manner of notes on what she's seeing.
Sleek Shimmer	"You people reek of blood and grave dirt." Shimmer exclaims in strangely calm and sincere honesty at the questions, even though they weren't aimed at her, and were pretty rhetorical. "But I could extend a LITTLE hope." The strange behavior of the summoned goons, impacts that feel more like hitting rock than flesh, and movements that no horde of soldiers would make has her frown a bit. "The only question is... WHAT are you? Wayward spirits? Did someone kill you guys and leave you facedown in the sand? Your aura is strange..." Though willing to converse, and clearly a bit calmer now that she's had time to take in just how strange these weirdos are, she's still on the defensive. Spotting the sword beam coming her way, Shimmer extends a hand... and space twists and warps, gleaming and swirling inwards. The beam HALTS in midair as if caught in some kind of awful gravity well tearing at it. It warps and stretches then begins to come apart... large chunks of it drawn towards Shimmer's outstretched palm and vanishing into her grasp before the rest of the beam breaks out of the strange field and smashes into her. The foxgirl's picked up and launched backwards and suffers a nasty cut across her whole body all at once. Blood splashes all over the desert sands. Still, she manages a spectacular midair flip to right herself and land on her feet... the wound and her clothes both mending at a steady and visible pace. "Also you all REEK and I'm tired of smelling it. Let's do something about that!" The young woman engages in a quick little kata that ends in her slamming a fist to the ground... And the ground rumbles in response. Everyone can feel the mild quake as SOMETHING answers her call. In a scant few seconds, five enormous geysers of water erupt through the sandy soil. As they rise skywards and then lean forwards, they take on the form of eastern dragons, fanged jaws open. Most of the water dragons plunge into the massed earthen-aspected troops, but one goes straight for Helm!
Wisconsin	Well as it turns out the OTHER side has some big guns as well. Those fireballs come in, and Wisky's close defense guns spin up, desperately trying to swat down the fireballs, but it's no use, the bullets are passing right through the magical energy and- One, two, three impacts on the ship's sides smash in Wisconsin's port hull, the strain showing as bulkheads crack inside from the strain. She falls to a knee for a moment, reeling from the attack, a mist of fire impression systems flashing through her gear as her damage controls come online. "...Fair's fair, I guess." She huffs, and sidles back a bit, nursing her wounds as she considers options. She spots her new allies moving in, the soldiers making inroads at attacking the Dirt Men, and she starts barking commands, like the squadron leader she is. "You five!" She points at a bunch of the conscripts. "Form ranks! I'll give you cover to make a push!" Wisky's secondary guns spin up, and start blasting furrows of rapid-fire energy bolts into one of the approaching cavalry pushes, trying to halt their approach, to allow the soldiers a chance to get in there with spear and lance.
James Bond	The door of the SUV slams shut after the mortars land. It's none too soon. Lances impact the windows, finding stubborn resistant glass that nevertheless begins to spiderweb from their attack. Having left the engine running, Bond downshifts, slams one foot on the brake and the other on the gas, and turns hard left. A spray of sand kicks up into the faces of the attacking cavalry, before Bond releases the brake and sends the back end fishtailing into one of the horses. Hardened plates slam into the steed, just before the SUV takes off, circling counterclockwise of the cavalry. Bond pulls the volume dial outwards, sending the console rotating to reveal a hidden control panel. A metal toggle switch is flipped. Two large-bore automatic shotguns, sans stock or trigger, emerge on the hood, above the headlights. As the SUV crests a dune and sails through the air, the shotguns swivel on their own, seeking targets in the cavalry and blasting away. The vehicle lands, comes back around to complete its circuit, and Bond flips another switch as Gasper comes into view through the windshield. Staring him down with an impassive, professional frown, Bond watches as two targeting reticules line up on the commander, waiting for the moment they intersect. A soft 'ding' sounds in the cabin. One hand on the wheel, Bond flips down a protective plastic case and mashes a red button, surrounded by black-yellow caution stripes. The headlights swivel back, revealing a score of angry red cones. Micromissiles swarm outwards from the SUV's headlight ports, tracing multitudinous trajectories on their way to Gasper. Even as they hit solid matter and explode, Bond's foot is glued to the accelerator, the V8 roaring--he's got no qualms running Gasper over if he can't blow him up.
Cantio	"You talk too much! Do you ever shut up?" Helm snaps at Shimmer as he continues advancing towards her along with a good dozen or so of those remaining soldiers. The latter get blasted apart by the watery dragon-shaped things as the dirt turns to mud and gets washed away, and the squad leader of those soldiers braces his sword in front of himself as the attack comes roaring towards him. It crashes right into and through him, biting into his armor and leaving him skidding back at a lurch. Helm gasps painfully as he stabs his sword into the ground, dripping with both water and blood between the gaps in his armor. "You really like hearing yourself talk, huh...? So open wide!" Undeterred, he starts sprinting forward while the remaining archers cover his charge, weaving between his own troops' arrows and hurling himself right past them. He slides past Shimmer before whipping his sword backwards and charging at her again, trying to catch the shapeshifter with a wild series of swings from one side while the arrows come in at her from the other. Meanwhile, Tsuvan's got his hands full trying to capitalize against Wisconsin as he rushes forward with his own squad while she's momentarily down. "Playin' commander, are you? Okay... Two can play at that game!" He shouts as he directs his own soldiers forward to face off against the conscripts she's taken command of. Under normal circumstances, the dirt soldiers would fare far better thanks to their resilience and coordination, but these aren't normal circumstances in the slightest. Wisconsin's guns certainly help to even the playing field, mowing throw a whole group of those cavalry and carving them apart at the knees. The recruits she's directing, meanwhile, form up with renewed confidence to catch the few cavalry that break through her cannon fire with their spears, impaling the riders before they can really get in. The earthen soldiers are far more suicidal, though, and they're bolstered by Tsuvan himself roaring and charging forward with his armored shoulder aimed forward to try and break through the formation with his own massive cleaving sweeps. "Ah, what wonders the Multiverse brings to our humble world... Is this the world you envisioned, my lord?" Gasper monologues with yet another dramatic sweep of his arm even as Bond's SUV proves to have a rather substantial advantage against the cavalry. Between the vehicle's very nature and the ingenuity of its driver, it's little wonder that he's having quite a straightforward time just plowing right through those oversized piles of soil. The cavalry give chase as best as they can, but that only results in them being grouped into a convenient line for the shotguns to chew right through their ranks until there's barely a horse-shape left. Gasper himself doesn't fare much better, of course, although his showy movements certainly don't show it. Seeing those projectiles coming his way, he does what would probably be the smart thing (if they were arrows) and steps sideways with a broad flourish of his cape, as though he was some kind of bullfighter. Unfortunately for him, they still explode right on top of him, and that's before Bond's SUV smashes right into and over him with that satisfying thumping noise coming from under each set of wheels. Somehow, though, Gasper still manages to crawl and claw his way back up onto his feet, armor dented and cracked in multiple places with bloody splotches all over his beard. Coughing out a handful of teeth, he braces both hands on his sword, raising it far overhead and shouting with far more ferocity than he's shown this entire time before bringing it down, flinging a whole slew of waves across the ground at Bond and his vehicle to try and blast it with sheer volume.
Cantio	Cantio, for her part, still seems content to observe the battle. "They know about us already... Huh. But the troops... Good. Keep it up, everyone." She murmurs to herself as she keeps her eyes on those recruits with the fancier helmets and mimicking Desperado's mercenaries, tapping on her tablet a few more times before hopping off the bus just as Gasper's waves smash right into it and nearly send it tipping over from the impact. The only thing stopping it from tipping over, of course, is Cantio staying on the other side to shove right back against the bus, but that does keep her occupied and away from interfering with the battle herself (if she even wanted to). The soldiers are doing well enough at that, anyway, as they try to hold back the charging Helm and Tsuvan with their own continued slashes from this way and that while the Desperado mercenaries take on the archers and fallen cavalry to keep them from getting too many shots off or getting back up.
James Bond	The ground magic makes it difficult for Bond. Even with a vehicle specialized for off-road, keeping control takes all of his concentration. The wheels spin independently, finding traction in the sand for a fleeting few seconds at a time as the Land Rover bounces erattically between earthen waves. Suspension audibly groans from the effort. Gasper gets what he wants--for a moment. One wave larger than the vehicle's vertical clearance can handle bounces it. In that heart pounding moment, the Land Rover is upside down, staring down another earthen wave like a flipped turtle faced with a speeding truck. Momentum carries it away, but not fast enough. Bond's hands, however, are plenty fast. The roof of the cabin slides away. His fist mashes a button--'EJECT.' The passenger seat of the SUV rockets down, slamming into the sand below Bond. The force of the impact hurls the vehicle back into the air just in time to send it careening over the earthen wave on its way to him. Right-side-up in the air, Bond stares down Gasper and flips another switch on the console. This one is labeled 'NET.' A loud 'clunk' is heard a split second before the vehicle hits the ground. Suspension creaks in angry protest as Bond races back across those earthen waves to clear the distance between them. Out from the car's headlight ports fly two heavy metal nets, weighed down by heavy metal spheres meant to aid in wrapping them around their target: Gasper. The Land Rover soars over him, ramping off one of his waves--landing behind him and halting its forward movement with a deft bit of drifting, just as the net electrifies itself.
Wisconsin	This is quickly getting out of control. Wisconsin's internals are taking a pounding, but she's still up and running, she's still blistering away after getting blasted and crashed and all that sort of thing. But there are bits of her that are screaming as she shifts her systems to self repair, and tries to steady herself. But then Shimmer puts a bunch of water on the field. She blessedly does, and Wisconsin happily rushes for the puddles. And as she starts to get to them, her whole demeanor changes, her strides lengthening, and soon she's skating across the field, hovering a few inches off the ground, so long as there is moisture there. "You cretins are NOT about to sink me tonight. That's for DAMN sure." Her face is flushed, her hair is puffed up, and her engines are cranking over at full bore now. She's lining up shots, all across the battlefield, as he spotting drones start getting her telemetry again. The big cannons swivel.... And she starts firing, as she dances. Each shot is timed to blast Dirt Men out of the way, to give Bond another smidgen of cover, to aid Shimmer's own magical barrages by making her shots easier or swatting away nearby attackers. She is dancing on the puddles, a staccato beat matched by her missiles and volleys. "FALL."
Sleek Shimmer	"Huuuuuuuah!!" With a mighty kiai, Shimmer unleashes a terrifically powerful kick, her leg wreathed in furious energies. The timing couldn't be any better. Her blow slams hard into Helm's first swing, stopping it dead... and, not only that, but a shockwave carrying an explosion of sand and dirt and ripples of compressed wind scatters in every direction. Every arrow aimed Shimmer's way is thrown off course or even knocked clean out of the air. It is, no doubt, an UNPLEASANT experience for Helm, whose swing has hit what feels like the raw, enduring rock-face of a vast mountain. This reoccurs with every recurring swipe the man makes. A powerful blow slams into his, stopping it flat, though the foxgirl's beginning to lose her breath from the immense focus needed for such qi channeling. "My turn!" With a burst of exertion, she kicks the offending blade away and blurs into motion with an elbow going for Helm's solar plexus. If that strikes, then she vaults upwards with a knee for his chin and chains that into a spinning back kick with the weight of an avalanche behind it - easily enough to pick him straight up off the ground and send him flying. The intent of this onslaught will become quite clear if it manages to get that far. For she will attempt to kick him skywards, blip-teleporting into his trajectory with a flash, and begin pinballing him about in the sky back and forth into ever-more-creative flurries of blows, each culminating with a thundering blow. Again and again, until everyone involved has long since lost count of the number of blows. All of it apexing with one more skyward-sending flip kick, blip-porting into a devastating drop kick that'll turn Shimmer's target into a human-sized meteor.
Cantio	Wisconsin takes advantage of the water on the field, and Tsuvan has no chance at keeping up with her. Although he can certainly sprint with a fair bit more speed than most people would expect from his size, she still keeps just out of reach while peppering him and the remaining soldiers with all those explosions that render the dirt soldiers motionless and punch holes right through Tsuvan's armor. It's not long, then, before the missiles come flying in that Tsuvan truly has nowhere to go. He stabs his sword into the ground, braces his most intact armored side forward, and gets caught up in those explosions that leave no trace of him behind. Helm seems to be having the relatively least-awful time of the three at first, as Shimmer doesn't blow him up or fry him with electric charges. She just kicks the absolute crap out of him, one of those kicks launching his sword into the distance before forcing him to defend himself with nothing more than his armor and his body. Unlike Shimmer, he's not a hand-to-hand fighter, and he gets launched higher and higher, slowly becoming more unrecognizable with each strike. He's spiked into the ground with a resounding explosion of dust, and he too leaves no trace behind after the dust clears from the resulting crater. Grinning madly at what's sure to be the end of Bond('s vehicle), he roars in laughter as he sees it turn upside down, then stares at it blankly when it takes flight from the power of that ejection seat. He's once again enthused, though, when Bond brings the vehicle coming right back towards him as he braces his sword at eye-level like he's ready to stab right through it. "Coming back, then? I like your spirit, mortal! Come, and face the might of the Sk-" He gets hit in the face with a net. With the weighted spheres embedding themselves into the ground behind him, Gasper staggers around briefly as he tries pulling them off and figuring out how to escape. It'd be easy if not for the electrification that follows, drawing teeth-clenched screams from the old death-stenched man until he falls right over, smoking right next to his own crater from being run over moments ago. "Gha ha ha ha ha... You thought you've... Won, newcomers?" Gasper spits out even as he lays in his own smoking crater, turning over slowly and laughing painfully despite himself. "Even if I die, my spirit lives for revenge..." He reaches towards Bond, his vision hazy and his arm wavering in front of him as it starts to disintegrate. "The Skull Children are immortal!" Gasper and the Skull Children fade away, leaving behind only a rather messed up grassland with dozens of mounds of upturned dirt and grass, along with the scores of injured recruits and the quartet of weary mercenaries.
Sleek Shimmer	Shimmer's descent to the ground is much gentler than the impact Helm makes. She nevertheless lands about ten feet from his crater, on both feet. She doesn't seem at all SURPRISED that no corpse has been left. After all, she'd already guessed that her foe was some sort of ghost. "What good will just coming back do? Come back STRONGER. THEN start laughing!" Shimmer blurts out in disgust at the whole notion. Seems she's lost patience with the drmaatics for now... A glance left and right... she gives both Wisconsin and James Bond a concerned look-over... But still, she's left with SO many questions. Such as... "Besides wicked spirits... what WERE those jerks? How did they know we were coming...? Did someone put them here? Could they just sense it...? We might be in for more surprises."
Wisconsin	The last of the Dirt Men falls, the Skull Children dust away, and Wisconsin finally lets the rest of her war gear dissipate... and she slumps her shoulders, as if a weight's been lifted. She's still hovering over one of the remaining puddles, though, so she has to bend over to spit on the dirt and start cursing. "Blood and dirt and muck and bone, stay dead and don't bother the living. GO TO SLEEP." She grumbles, and finds... Bond's overturned SUV, floating over until she runs out of water, and then stomps in the mud and dirt before hopping up on the fender. Already, there's commotion at the edges of the field of battle, as a pair of figures materialize and start to hustle over towards the fallen troops. A pair of... well, likely ship girls, since they wave to Wisky first, and then start to get to work on the wounded. "...That was exciting."
James Bond	"Eternal life, and all you can think to do is make life miserable for anyone unlucky enough to run into you?" says Bond, stepping out of the Land Rover to watch Gasper fade away. "Christ," he says, shaking his head as he reaches into a pouch on his vest for a cigarette. The Lucky Strike is set between his lips, lit, a pull taken. "I have my differences with her organization, and hers," he adds, surveying the torn-up grassland, nodding to Shimmer and Wisconsin in turn. "At least they stand for something. You're pathetic. All of you." They've faded away. Bond exhales, sending a tendril of blue-grey billowing forth. "Maybe. It was also stupid," says Bond to Wisconsin. "I think I actually hate those three." Such a strong reaction to an admittedly very up-front trio of bandits. It must be the eternal life thing. Or maybe the torment thing. "How soon can we get moving?" Bond asks Cantio, striding over to the bus to check out its condition. "What do our losses look like?"
Wisconsin	"...We can come back, eventually, but lord knows that it's never fun, and you get... Ugh. Rebuilding yourself from the ground up is just a pain." She kicks at the mud and looks to Shimmer. "Do you know if they're gone gone or are they trying to be sneaky on us?" One of the girls starts to look her over. The redhead's a navy nurse though, so her examinations are a bit brusque. "Come on then, Wisky, hold still." "Ajax I swear to- don't you jab me wi-" Wisconsin flinches, as Ajax hits her with an air injector full of... white polymer, and then pulls something that looks like gaffer's tape, and starts putting it on the battleship, like proper kinesthetic tape. She's getting patched up, right there on Bond's hood. She looks forlornly at Ajax, and then at Bond, and then at the Lucky Strike he's got. And then back to Bond. Ajax spots the look. "No. No smokes, Wisky." "...hrmph."
Cantio	"They summoned soldiers from the ground, but the way their leader spoke sounded as though they were... Ghosts?" Cantio suggests to Shimmer as she approaches the group in a sideways sort of manner, dividing her effort between speculating and checking on the recruits to heal their injuries. "If they're in league with Madruk-" Did she ever explain that to anyone here? Probably not. "-er. That's the dark god that once tried to destroy this world. Continent." She gestures all around the group, and the local conscripts shudder briefly at the mention of the name. "But if they are, it wouldn't be the first time we've run into his agents trying to resurrect him. For them to just come out and attack us so soon, though, and for such a nothing reason..." Cantio sighs, nodding slowly in agreement with Bond. "There's a lot of gaps in all of this, yes. I... Really don't get it. If they want to revive him, why would they make themselves bigger targets like this instead of laying low?" Rubbing her head lightly, Cantio shakes her head before taking stock of how many people have actually been injured or killed alongside Wisconsin. while answering Bond. "We'll be able to get moving soon. Once we finish burying... Um. Huh." Miraculously, nobody died! Some of the soldiers were banged up considerably more than others, but it's nothing any of them won't recover from. The ones with the fancier helmets even seem to be extremely enthused by their success in that battle, with the simpler-armored recruits rallying on them while the Desperado mercenaries mill about by the bus on their phones, seemingly disinterested with all of their discussion. "... Sooner than I thought, actually. Once we get to Topaz, we can start convincing the king there that we're there to help bolster their defenses, explain our goal of unifying the continent against Madruk, then..." Cantio pauses, somehow sounding surprised by what she's saying. "Getting the rest of the rulers on board so we can find the Eight Warriors to defend this world from the dark god with no... Catches. At all." She really sounds unused to that concept.
Sleek Shimmer	Sleek Shimmer, breathing slowly and steadily to regain her composure, shimmies over towards James Bond until she's about five feet away. Nodding first at him, then to Cantio, she explains, "There are many about wicked spirits and grudges from beyond the grave... souls that cannot rest and only seek to work ill upon anyone who crosses their path. They seem... similar.. but might not be that. Something just like it... it's pathetic, but also sad." She listens quietly to the explanation from Cantio. "Servants of a dark god... maybe makes sense. She also gives Ajax and the strange medical treatment on display a VERY strange look. Completely non-comprehending.