Scene Listing

||

Scene Schedule

||

Scene Schedule RSS

Owner	Pose
Merelisa Shaynore	BREAKING NEWS             DISTRICT 21 BACKSTREETS UNDER ATTACK   ...gure appeared, wearing red and gold ...             ...notorious 'red light district'...     ...tnesses say a 'beam of light' dropped from the sky...    ...fires spreading rapidly...             ...xtent of the destruction is uncertain at ti...       ...as an Outsider agitator...   ...brought from offworld...         ...ctions to Trídéag unknown...                   ...tifies herself as 'Andromeda'. ¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯     Not every television across the City is broadcasting the ongoing destruction of District 21. It's still the Backstreets, and it's still the City-- a bomb going off in the network building itself wouldn't be grounds to stop streaming advertisements, product placements, and Wing morality-washing to the general public. But there's enough hysteria building that any Elite with their finger on the pulse of the City would notice, especially when the topic turns to the dangers brought in by Outsiders.     The news cycle shows the same violent clips over and over, as a flashy underpinning for whatever spin they're taking on the event. A shaky, uncredited handheld recording of a seedy-looking street milling with shifty-eyed people, before the sky flashes so brightly that the recording goes black and grainy to readjust. When it does, the sky is aglow with ethereal green lights, and orange fire from below reflects off the clouds, while people stampede in panic around shattered streetlights and a billowing cloud of concrete dust. Monochrome security camera footage shows a tattooed man in a purple Hawaiian shirt leaning in the interior of an entryway, when abruptly searing light blooms in the neon-signed building across the street and the footage cuts out.     Professional cameramen after the fact show off crisp footage of a city ghetto in sustained collapse, with a molten crater a block wide blasted in the center, and they follow after the red-haired woman who did it as she walks away from the point of impact.     Merelisa is in her full regalia, a white and red sleeveless dress with gold metal ornamentation on her shoulders and around her hips. White and gold heeled greaves extend halfway up her thigh, visible through the long slit in her dress, and metal lattice sleeves embedded with glowing gemstones cover her arms where her dress doesn't. Flipped over a shoulder with one hand is a red-gold greatsword, carvings glowing with magic and the air rippling with heat around its blade. Most dramatically of all, at least to the distant perspective of the cameramen, are the massive mechanical arms fixed in space over her shoulders, with an armspan easily capable of reaching to either side of the street while she walks in the middle.     On one side, a mechanical palm the size of a car holds up an alley balcony from collapsing onto a cowering civilian, giving them time to collect themselves and scramble away. On the other, a Middle member with a purple fuzzy boa is gripped by the other hand, squeezed tightly so that her tattoos flash with a burst of magic, and then gets slammed through a brick wall like it's made of tissue paper. Neither one requires her direct attention, as she continues walking through the burning ruins towards the coast of the Great Lake.
Merelisa Shaynore	When the Elites catch up to Merelisa, she's standing on the concrete pier of a marina, the most wealth-stained location outside a Nest you've seen. Huge luxury yachts float in the harbor, some in motion to return to the docks in light of the recent events, and others content to still be lit up with party lights in the evening sun. Jewelry-bedecked beachgoers hardly seem to recognize the fires raging through the city behind them, as if that sort of thing happens all the time, but never to *them*. Tall tropical trees and glass-walled lounges dot the dockside, and though there's some tension in the air, the people aren't fleeing in terror.     On the beach, a pop-up stage has some sort of ongoing concert for the vacationers. Fireworks launch up and explode in a riot of colors, but more and more, they're drowned out by the wispy green rings of light wavering in the sky, concentric auroras coming out of nowhere that decisively win out against the setting sun. Merelisa's mecha-sized arms bow around her, palms sliding together to form a platform of her own that she steps up onto, lifted to project above the crowd with her voice.     With her sword sheathed on her back, Merelisa holds out her hand, and a pale green crystal teleports into it with a blue glitchy distortion. When she holds it up in front of her mouth, it vastly amplifies the volume of her voice, and each word shears off sparkling fragments of the crystal and spreads them wide across the crowd, propelled by her breath,     "Hello, people of the City! I understand that this area is under the control of a gang known as the 'Middle', and that one of their higher ranked members is on one of those yachts! Whoever knows which *one* they're on, step up and tell me, and everyone else who isn't affiliated with them, leave the area in an organized manner!"     For some reason, no one leaps at the opportunity. There's murmuring and shifting among the people on the beach, but more along the lines of being subjected to the uncomfortable rambling of a protester with a microphone, and the singer on stage doesn't hitch her performance. Merelisa clicks her tongue, annoyed.
Ivy Carrow	The usual comradarie and revelry that normally follows Ivy and her runners everywhere she goes has turned sober and grim. Alex is monitoring one end of the portals--just outside the association, in case of a security breach, they say--and for once the runners seem to be relying mostly on him. Still, there are nervous glances from one to the other. Alex has to scold someone for leaving their hand on their gun. Everyones' on edge.     You don't see Ivy until you're see through the opaque swirl of red. And when you're on the other side...     Ivy is there, overlooking the carnage, on one knee. Flames flick up the buildings around the epicenter of the blast, threatening to turn the horizon red, and for once, she doesn't any any quips or levity to make it better. Just, "She's going down the main road there." Ivy pointed. "Toward the water. We can catch her there."     There's a flicker of red, and she's gone.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	EARLIER, EARTH:     Madeleine was having a good day. Tagging jackalopes isn't exactly thrilling work, but thrills aren't always what she's after. Sometimes the best thing to do with a day is to sit down with a bottle of whiskey and a good book (in this case, Aldo Leopold's "A Sand County Almanac"), and check the snares every half hour. But instead...     NOW, THE CITY:     "What the fuck!? I thought you were chill!" Without a microphone or magical amplifying crystal the huntress is tricky to hear above the concert, at least when she's shouting from halfway across the pier, but she's walking swiftly closer to Merelisa. "You trying to start a war or something?"
Kale Hearthward	Kale's through the warpgate the moment it gets set up. "Took you long enough," he says to Ivy, regardless of how quickly her team got it set up. "Maybe run some drills between now and whenever you're going to be too slow again." And then - facing front, clicking on his earpiece. "We've got an active hostile elite, possibly firing indiscriminately. Aerial or orbital weaponry. I need evac plans for their range of fire." <"Aerial bombardment - so you mean evac of the whole *city*?"> Kale pauses. "Start with the immediate area - work outward." <"She was talking about the boats."> "Right - I mean, start with the boats. Figure out who's crewing them, get them a call, bring the airship in to shepherd them away in person if necessary. Just - watch out for lasers." <"Watch out for lasers that literally move at the speed of light, you mean."> "Yeah, exactly," says Kale. "Glad we're on the same page." He closes the connection. Kale's disaster-response team gets started on that - using their Official Connections to get contact info on who's crewing the boats, and getting on to warn them to get clear of the area.
Angela	This is the moment Trideag has been preparing for--at least on paper--but the sad truth of it is, Vice-Director Ceri knows full well that most of Trideag isn't ready yet to face someone like Merelisa. Frankly, she's not even sure Ceri is ready to face Merelisa but she knows that as the Vice Director of the Association--she can't exactly skip out on this fight. Bringing Solace is a gamble. Not because she thinks Solace is weak but because she's the strongest local investment into Trideag right now and risking that on a fight this big is something that makes Ceri uneasy. The organization could still suffer a lot of setbacks. But at the same time, if Trideag doesn't bolster a significant response to Andromeda shooting lasers down at the city--they may end up forcibly disbanded right as they're getting started. There's no choice. And so she has the rest of Trideag hold the fort while she and Solace rush to catch up with Andromeda. There's no time for a fancy speech, to Ceri's dismay, so she's just going to have to skip it. She and Solace step through the portal provided by the Warprunners and appear on the pier. In this district in particular, the difference between Backstreets and Nest can be a little obscure--the Great Lake is something of an equalizer but the wealthy can exist even in a place like the Backstreets--there is always an underclass under the underclass to press one's boot down on. Ceri hesitates a little upon seeing Merelisa. She's an ELITE, after all, and more than that one that has been sparring (rhetorically) with the Dame Commander. She's heard some of what Andromeda has had to say about herself. If even half is true, she knows, she ought to be cautious. She doesn't have her EGO Gear outside of Trideag. only her rapier and uniform. Angela, well, she has no idea how Angela would feel about this attack. Would she be upset? Would she not care? Would she think 'ah, about time'? No, Ceri thinks, she's probably figuring that if Merelisa is blasting the Middle with her space laser--at least she isn't blasting LobCorp with it. Not joy or despair, just a practical acknowledgement of what is a potential danger to the project. "Andromeda..." Ceri says, walking towards her, pushing past any locals that are just kind of standing around and watching and shooting a dirty look at the singer. Her rapier is drawn but pointed downward. "As Trideag is responsible for Elite Action, you'll have to..." She sighs. "You'll have to come with us. I don't suppose you can make it easy for us." Solace is silently watching. Her eyes flick towards the civilians still lingering then up to the sky where there's flickering motes of light. She taps Ceri on the arm once, and then points upward. If there's no time for any kind of speech, there's decidedly not much time to try and convince Merelisa through rhetoric. Solace moves first, leaping for Merelisa's mecha-arm platform, intending to land on it in a crouch and then jump up to headbutt her against her chin. She quirks her head and lifts up her arms as if to shrug and suggest this is work. She might not be the sort of Trideag Agent that cares if Merelisa blasts a city block--so long as it isn't hers--but she knows that letting Merelisa blast city blocks risks her children's future. Ceri turns back to look at the partygoers and she shouts in frustration, "You heard her! Get out of here or you'll get blasted to bits!" She has no idea if that'll be more effective a strategy or not. Up high above there is a shimmering of light that forms the vague outline of a person. There's no real features to speak of, only bright white light forming the approximation of someone. There's no face or even really legs. It just hovers there, looking up. Whatever it is, it's between the sat laser and the earth but the immaterial nature of the being lends a degree of uncertainty as to what they intend to do about it.
Odette Raskins	Normally, an explosion or fire is something Odette would leave to people in the actual area. She's just one person, after all, and she can only respond to so much before things like reality stop her from going to every single emergency that shows up in her periphery. What makes things different here, of course, is that it's not just any explosion in just any palce. It's in the Backstreets, and it's the result of some sort of mysterious disastrous light. With Ivy providing transport, the EMT gets a little more time to pack as many meds and blood packs as she can for the worst case scenario of building collapses and horrible burns. When she shows up alongside many other Elites from that temporary portal courtesy of the Warprunners, Odette's inhales sharply as she sees the extent of the damage. Looking over towards where Ivy's gesturing, she squints as she peers out towards the water, then works her way back towards Merelisa. "Who...?" I-is that the.. Whoever did all this? W-wait, you want to CATCH her?!" Tending to the wounded is one thing, but Odette doesn't sound all too thrilled about actively going after someone capable of doing that much on her own. Letting out an uncomfortable noise from her throat, the medic tightens her hold on her duffel bag strap as she starts heading towards the pier with the group. "Well... I-I'll focus on getting the injured out, then. Then you all can focus on... Uh." Her gaze goes over towards the molten crater, sucking in another breath at the thought about how many or few people might still be alive around it. "O-on... Stopping her? Oh geez... O-or at least pointing her away from here. Come on, Luz!" Clearly, the EMT isn't keen on getting Merelisa's attention at all, but she might not have much of a choice. It won't be long before she's scurrying around where Merelisa can probably see her in that blue and white uniform of hers, looking for injured people to perform triage on and trying to slip into the crowd to usher them away from the impending battlefield. "C.. Come on! Y-you gotta get out of here, before all the... More stuff blows!"
Father Berislav	A ratty old television--old enough to have dials for channel and a volume knob, old enough that one flagging antenna arm is bandaged with tin foil--broadcasts the destruction on its tiny screen from atop a recently refurbished bar counter.      "Yes, I'm afraid I do," says Father Berislav, phone balanced against his ear by his shoulder as he checks the sight on a large frame revolver before swinging the cylinder out and testing the action. It swings back into place with a weighty click. "It's in their interest to make this look as bad as they can, but the danger is very real. Stay indoors if you can. Don't draw any undue attention and take shelter in the sturdiest spot you can find. The Association won't take this lying down, and neither will I." The twin shoulder holsters are visually incongruous with his cassock, yet he wears them as naturally as he would a stole or chasuble.      "Stay safe," he says into the burner by way of goodbye, lowering it, closing it and letting it fall into an orange tear in space that seals up behind it. Berislav turns the TV off, takes an empty teacup along with its saucer into the kitchen of this patched-up little hostel, then leaves. ---      The priest's cassock flutters in the wind as he makes an impossible vertical to catch the bottom rung of a decaying fire escape, pulling himself up with strength enough to clear the first two levels and land on the third. Off like a bolt, he reaches the rooftop and maintains his breakneck pace, leaping from building to building with speed more comparable to a machine than a man, black habit streaking like a shadow, his white hair whipping in the wind.     "I'm sorry, there's not much I can do about the interference," he says, same phone, different person, voice raised to be heard over the air rushing past him as he bounds rooftops with high-flying long leaps. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, as you might imagine. Where did you see her last? ... I see. Thank you. No--don't follow her. Someone else may have seen her, and I don't want you getting hurt."      Buildings begin to thin out, closer to the marina. "I think I see her now," he says to a third person. "Thank you. Be safe."      He pauses, briefly, at the lip of a building overlooking the beach--he'd just barely reached it, having made a stomach-dropping long-leap over a gentrified boardwalk, catching the lip and pulling himself up with a calculated scramble. Whoever knows which *one* they're on, step up and tell me, and everyone else who isn't affiliated with them, leave the area in an organized manner!      Berislav smooths his cassock and sighs. Sliding down the opposite end of the surf shop with one palm against the wall, he strides through the crowd following a nimble landing. He doesn't have superhuman hearing--but he wouldn't need it, gently brushing past them, to hear what's being said.      "They don't take you seriously," says Berislav to Merelisa. "And even if you could make them, the people on that yacht can take more from them than you ever could." He nods towards the rings of light in the sky. "Even with whatever that is--I'm assuming it's yours and some sort of weapon, so forgive me if I've assumed incorrectly."      He frowns, hands clasped before him. "The Trideag Association is almost certainly on its way. Even so, they're going to take some of the blame for what you're doing here, because that was part of the political motivation for creating the Association in the first place--incorporating Elites into the apparatus of the city and having a body to hold responsible and punish collectively for exactly what you're doing."      "I can tell you're frustrated," he says. "But I promise that if you give a little ground here today, you can gain much more tomorrow."
Ivy Carrow	"Took you long enough...Maybe run some drills between now and whenever you're going to be too slow again."     There's a flash of something in Ivy's eyes...Or maybe it's just the flames from the burning City. "Say that about my team when you need us again, and we'll see what chicken tastes like for dinner." And then, she does the worst thing possible to Kale Harthward--     --Disappears, stealing his chance of getting the last word.     Ivy was in a hurry, and when Ivy was in a hurry, it was hard to tell she was moving at all. There were no jumps, from place to place. No leaping across buildings or scaling walls. She turned, she assessed the next place for her to jump, and then--     --She was there, the distinction between here and there dissolving as the constancy of space became jumprope for her to hop through. A red flicker here, and there, and there--rapidly approaching the horizon.     When Madeleine and Ceri arrived on the scene, Ivy shimmered out of a red portal, throwing her cloak behind her with a backward flick. The Warprunners are already there in force--but it seems like their orders have been to disband the concert, finding important-looking people and saying things like 'Trideag Business,' and 'Take it up with Director Rook.'     It seems someone, has coached them on using the trappings of authority to be listened to in a crisis. But whether they're be listened to? Well, that's something else entirely, isn't it?     "You know," Captain Carrow complained. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind for my team's second job here."     "I didn't think an elite would be trying to nuke down a neighborhood." Ivy, with no context for the Middle, or even for Merelisa, was just seeing someone who was trying to burn down part of the city. "Oh well." She tried to smile.     It didn't reach her eyes.
Sarracenia	BREAKING NEWS      "...this cannot be real..."      Sarracenia just happened to be lounging about in the Trideag building when the news came in. The best hero she's ever met and her current girlcrush is...attacking a defenseless city?! This does not even compute to Sarra and she has to see several of those zoomed in shots of Merelisa to believe it is true.      But wait! Andromeda saved those civilians right there in that shot! "M-maybe...this is destruction with extreme prejudice?" she says to no one in particular, just hoping that this is not what it looks like.      The princess pulls her battle dress out of her purse and quickly dons it, then heads through the portal to join the others. She wall jumps her way up a good distance into the air, then leaps and pulls out a feather. In a puff of smoke she is now in a golden cape, which lets her fly her way to the marina.      She floats down to land close to Merelisa as Merelisa makes her announcement. She is even so bold (or trusting/in denial) enough to land on that hand platform. She even looks fairly heroic herself in her black dress with the red armor plates and a golden cape billowing out behind her. "...Merelisa? Are you...alright?" she asks. The princess does not have her hammer or any other weapons in hand yet. Could she even bring herself to fight Merelisa? "You...you know you just blew a hole in the City, right? Um...no one was hurt? Like...that was an abandoned area or something?"      Sarra is obviously worried and uncertain, and is being over backward so far she could touch the ground with her head to try and give Merelisa the benefit of the doubt.      'You'll have to come with us.'      For just a moment, just hearing Ceri's voice is enough to earn a dark look from Sarra...but the princess knows that would be the best way. "Y-yes...Hero Andromeda, please stop this at once and come with us. We can talk about it back at Trideag!" Despite the smile she is trying her best to hold, Sarra's voice is Angela's favorite tone.      Pleading.
Merelisa Shaynore	"They don't take you seriously,"     The thumb on Merelisa's hand platform sticks up to form a makeshift pillar for her to lean her elbows on, chin planted poutily in her hands. She says down to Berislav, without taking her eyes off the crowd, "No kidding. But, like, don't they *get* that I'm trying to help them? It doesn't matter what those people on the yacht can do to them-- I'm about to *free* them from all that."     Merelisa stands back up straight and raises her face to the glowing auroric sky, green light overpowering the last dim rays of the sun. "My Firmament Driver. The last, end-all-be-all of power, that I made so that 'goodness' would never need to suffer this kind of slow, upwards struggle again. There isn't a force I've seen that can stand against it-- definitely not these ratty slumlords."     "... Who are you, by the way?" Merelisa looks down at Berislav, lifted by her hands so that her heels are just about at eye height on him.     "Oh! You must all be with the Trídéag Association!" Merelisa turns to the approaching Elites as they all pour in without any visible expectation of hostility, heels clicking against the metal of her mechanical palms. "There's a whole bunch of you, huh? I mean, a bunch that're heroic caliber; I wasn't quite sure how many there'd be besides Lilian and Sarra."     She turns back away-- clack, clack-- to the crowd, where some people are finally starting to gather up their things, though it looks more like they're worried about getting robbed than obliterated. "I'm glad my little demonstration could rally you, so now you--" "What the fuck!? I thought you were chill!"     "--Huh?"     Merelisa's forehead furrows, in confused indignation rather than outright anger. "Haven't we talked in the radio? Madeleine, right? I'm plenty chill."     "I just heard that your organization was stagnating a bit, and taking it slow with helping out the City. Lilian seems like the type to play things conservatively, but..." Merelisa sweeps a hand at the collapsing cityscape. "I wanted to show you that that isn't the only option, you know?"     "There's *already* a war. I heard about those troubles with the Middle, with them swearing to get revenge on you guys; and you're *new* to the City. Imagine how bad it must be to be living here! I know it's hard to imagine taking down something that seems so entrenched, but if you're strong enough, you can!"     "And I am strong enough. So if you're not comfortable giving me a hand yet, just sit back and watch." "As Trideag is responsible for Elite Action, you'll have to... You'll have to come with us."     "... Huh? As in, arresting me?" Merelisa's shocked for the second time, but recovers quickly and her eyes narrow. A hand goes to the sword on her back, gripped around the hilt without unsheathing it. Fingers form stairs down to the ground level, and Merelisa deliberately takes them one at a time.
Merelisa Shaynore	"... I see. So that's what you meant," She spares Berislav a glance backwards, separate from the others in her mind. "That's why Trídéag hasn't been getting anything done. You're just a *gentler* part of the whole machine, right? You're not fixing the *real* problems, because you don't *want* to."     Merelisa catches Solace's headbutt on her metal lattice sleeve, forearm flashing with a magical forcefield to knock her back and away. She takes her last step down off the pinky finger of a hand, greaves to concrete, and swings her sword off her back like it weighs nothing. Rather than moving to attack any of them, not even Solace, who's been batted into the sand, she turns and takes a few steps down the pier, towards the docked yachts.     "Fine. Do you want to know how bad it is? My first target for the Firmament Driver was an underground gambling ring, ran by that gang. I heard there was a guy who bet his eye for freedom from debts, and when they found out he'd cheated to win, they took the eyes of his whole family, even though they didn't do *anything*. These guys?"     Merelisa raises her sword to point it at the yachts, then pivots to point at the concert stage on the beach. "*Everything* here is theirs. That singer? Works with the Middle. Those clubs? I bet they've all got seedy little backrooms for whatever sick deals they're doing. Those yachts are nests of crime and evil, and *you* all are content to do nothing about it, even when they're attacking *you*!"     Merelisa's eyes trace over to Kale's airship coming around to the yachts, expression set like it only cements her beliefs about them. What his people find is that everything about the ships is a screamingly sketchy blend of legitimate and illegitimate-- everything's registered and paid for, and also almost certainly not a single name of the contacts they access for the crew is a real name. Even with Merelisa right nearby, the communications from the ships all frustratingly insist on how expensive it'd be to dock and cut short whatever activities they're doing now, or yelling at him to go solve the problem himself, because that's his *job*.     Odette has more success pulling people from the crowd. Direct threats are one thing, but when multiple groups of color-themed people start monologing at each other, they know it's time to leave. Of course, the thinning crowd just reveals that there's a good number of purple-shirted Middle goons standing around the concert as security, and more in the club buildings on the boardwalk.     "I'll give you one last chance." Merelisa glares at the Trideag members, then conjures up another vocal amplification crystal. "All of you! Stand aside *now*, or burn in hell with your masters! I am Andromeda, and no resistance can keep me from freeing this world from its shackles!"     Her sword glows hot, red-orange, fire coursing up the fuller and out the end, and she swings it in an arc in the direction of the harbor. A massive wave of fire erupts out of it, slicing through the air towards the airships Kale sent to evacuate the civilians from the very ships Merelisa means to sink-- and meanwhile, the eerie glow in the sky intensifies more and more, the scent of ozone heavy and prickling on your tongue.
Merelisa Shaynore	"You...you know you just blew a hole in the City, right? Um...no one was hurt? Like...that was an abandoned area or something?"     Merelisa looks only a little surprised at Sarra's appearance, after all this. She makes a small, complicated smile, and averts her gaze downwards, before meeting Sarra's eyes with her voice steady and quiet.     "I want to help these people in *big* ways, Sarra. I'm not going to hurt anyone who doesn't make me hurt them-- that's the whole point. But things don't get done by just asking the villains to stop hurting people, do they? There's no... demon that you can beat just by asking it, and you can't free people from stuff like murderers, gangs, slavers, or anything else, without being forceful about it."     She looks over the water, where the reflections of the auroras are dancing and distorting in the ripples, vaguely nostalgiac despite the circumstances. "... When I was little, I used to always dream about someone strong showing up to my village, and fixing everything, just like that. Do the obvious thing. The helpful thing. Someone does something evil, and you want to hurt them. When I grew up, was when I realized that no one would, unless I did it myself."     She holds out a hand to Sarra, to offer to help her down from the mechanical hands, eyes probingly hopeful. "So I promised I'd *be* that miracle for other people. Can't you imagine all the kids who'll learn-- maybe not tonight, maybe once it stops being scary-- that things *got better* for them because of today? There isn't anything worth holding that back from them, not when I'm able to provide it."
Kale Hearthward	<"Kale? They don't want to leave. Saying they'd lose out on profits if they docked. Saying it's our job to deal with the threat, not their job to leave."> "Of course they'd say something like that. If they're going to say it's our job, threaten to charge them for providing enhanced security, and see if that gets them-" Kale's been dividing his attention between the action out on the water, and Merelisa herself. So he doesn't see what she's aiming at until after she's launched the wave of fire. "-moving. Moving! I mean - MOVE!" The wave of fire splashes against the airship, and after a moment of wavering in the air it starts losing altitude and begins descending towards the water. "Hazelthistle! Skye!" <"Overheating! Controlled landing! Can't talk!"> Panic turns to relief. They're okay. ... And then relief gives way to anger. "You-" His jet boots flare and he closes the distance to Merelisa in a mere moment, drawing his left hand sword as he does so, and holding it at the ready. "-going after my crew-" He swings it at her, the sword forming into a drill mid-swing. Whatever he was saying to her is left unfinished. He speaks with his eyes and with his violence now - both screaming his killing intent loudly, and more clearly than he could ever do with mere words.
Father Berislav	It doesn't matter what those people on the yacht can do to them-- I'm about to *free* them from all that.     Berislav smiles sadly, not bothering to look up at Merelisa when she elevates herself above him. "It matters very much to these people."     "They don't see how much they have to gain from their own liberation--and they don't even see what you're doing as a threat to the framework they benefit from presently." There isn't a force I've seen that can stand against it-- definitely not these ratty slumlords.     "Then you're very fortunate," says Berislav evenly. Oh! You must all be with the Trídéag Association!     The priest shakes his head. "I'm not, personally, no. But I have an interest in its success, which is why I'm here, and why I'm asking you to consider another approach--" All of you! Stand aside *now*, or burn in hell with your masters!     "I'd gladly burn in hell if it meant the end of hell on Earth," says Berislav with chilling, unflinching resolve, looking up at her for the first time--making eye contact, if he can from his position.     A twist draw from the right brings his revolver out with cold, mechanical speed, his body utterly relaxed all the way up to the trigger pull. A metallic bark and a brilliant muzzle flash send a high explosive round into Merelisa's mechanical arm to knock its aim off course. "Don't." But things don't get done by just asking the villains to stop hurting people, do they? There's no... demon that you can beat just by asking it, and you can't free people from stuff like murderers, gangs, slavers, or anything else, without being forceful about it.     "No one is asking that of you. It's just a matter of what kind of force and where it's applied. I'm telling you that this is a structural, cultural problem that's festered far too long to just pull up the weeds. The roots are too deep. Go after the gardeners of sin without salting their fields first, and you'll never see the end of their wicked fruits."     "We have to change the soil. Establish an environment that's toxic to sin. There's no other option, if we want to see the end of it. Elsewhere, this kind of tactic might work--but the gardeners of sin are clever here, and have fashioned weapons to use against us. You're not wrong to see the Association as a tool of soft power, but you're very wrong if you think Lilian hasn't already accounted for that--or that they haven't already begun improving things."     "I'm working on a project of my own, and you're welcome to help, if the thought of being even slightly part of the City's apparatus is as hard to stomach for you as it is to me. But all you'll accomplish with this kind of blind display is making these people--and more importantly, the people they exploit--resent you, and come to resent anyone who espouses even superficially similar ideology. Is that what you want?"
Odette Raskins	Hearing about the Firmament Driver sets off a mild pang of envy in Odette's heart. Why wouldn't it? Sure, the destruction it could bring down is already horrifying enough and could likely be even worse, but having that much power on a single person's hands? Having the mind capable of crafting something like that? Heck, being able to come up with a name like that? Of course that's going to hit Odette right in the gut about how little power she has compared to everyone here. Still, as long as Merelisa doesn't notice her- "Oh! You must all be with the Trídéag Association!" "M... Miss Shaynore?!" That's that lady she heard on the radio, isn't she? Odette's head swivels around in the middle of trying to get the crowd to disperse, partially from trying not to let them shove her out of the way and partially because she can't help but look towards the familiar doing something terrifying. Realizing that her little outburst might draw attention her way, however, the EMT quickly ducks down only to notice that the thinned out crowd probably isn't hiding her all that well anymore. "Y... Uh. H-hi! We're not stagnating, just... I-I mean, we just started a little while ago! And..." ODette trails off as she listens to Merelisa positing her own perspective on how to fix things here, and she doesn't really know how to respond to any of that. If she was stronger herself, wouldn't she be pursuing faster ways to help people, too? To save people, like the guy Merelisa's bringing up about his family's eyes being stolen away? Odette looks over at the yachts as directed, at the stage, at the clubs. She inhales shakily, squeezing and twisting her duffel bag's handle tightly to try and keep her mind focused. "Th... Then break their stuff! Break their... Backrooms! The... Y-yeah, what Father Waters is saying! You can't just..." Even though she can guess what the Redshifts would do in this kind of situation, she can't quite bring herself to say anything further than that. It really looks like she might be having trouble coming up with anything right up until Merelisa's glowing blade directs that scouring flame towards the airships in the near-ish distance. Yelping lightly as she covers her head and holds her cap down even so far beneath that wave, Odette looks on in horror for a long moment before looking towards Merelisa shakily. "Th... Th-that wasn't even the... The bad people up there! Th-those were regular folks trying to go home!" Odette yells out, turning her gaze downwards as she starts running towards the people still lingering in the area. Feeling that odd scent in the air in her nose and mouth tells her that even staying in this area is a gamble, but there's still so much left to do. She almost runs right into those people as she redoubles her efforts on trying to get them to leave, gesturing wildly at the flames and going as far as shoving them if they won't start moving.  "G... Get out of here! Y-y-you heard the lady, so go on!" She '''orders''' desperately, even going as far as kicking someone lightly to spur them into motion.
Angela	Solace is easily pushable off the hand. She seems to not have a perfect understanding of giant mechanical hands and forcefields. She rolls back into a crouch and watches Merelisa carefully. There's a moment of hesitation. Solace doesn't exactly entirely disagree with Merelisa here. Not because of the mass destruction being unleashed by Merelisa in of itself, but because she has seen enough of the horrors of The City to know that it sure feels EASIER tobe a little careless and get a lot done than being careful and constantly getting stymied. Her eyes fail to stare at Merelisa when she asks those present to imagine how it feels to live here. Ceri glances to Sarracenia. She doesn't particularly care for Sarracenia herself, right? But she gives her a small nod of approval. She doesn't REALLY want to fight Merelisa and she's about ready to call off Solace who went in swinging but-- ''I see. So that's what you meant. That's why Trideag hasn't been getting anything done.'' "Oh merde..." Ceri mutters. "Look, this strategy might've worked for your world but we're already helping plenty people--If you want to discuss strategy with Lilian, it'll be easier to do that at the Association than underneath a CHARGING LASER. We have to get going before..." She looks up to get a view of the sat-laser and instead sees the individual that has largely gone unremarked upon. "Wh...who...? What is that? Is that a friend of yours, Andromeda?" "Hardly." The floating figure in the sky says in a vaguely feminine voice. "I am here to study the--Firmament Driver, was it? It is in the interests of the Head to understand the kind of Outsider power being arrayed against us. Frankly, I am impressed with how casually you are discussing this with this terrorist while the laser above you is still charging up for another shot." There is the sound of the clicking of a tongue. "More importantly, this sort of weaponry is deeply impersonal. It grinds against the philosophy of The Head. It will not do to have this simply blasting everything to and fro." The woman does not introduce herself and it is difficult to see if she's even looking down or up. Maybe she's looking everywhere. "A Beholder..." Ceri murmurs. "I've never seen one before. But if they're here, we really don't have a choice." She draws her rapier. "Trideag... We have to stop her before she can fire that laser. That Eye up there can see everything." She darts forward, punching forward with her rapier--trying to find a way pass that shield that is protecting Merelisa. She doesn't take any pleasure in this, but she has a job to do. "We are still calculating the total damage in terms of Feathers lost and property damage. And tracking coordinates. Stall her while I work, thank you." The Beholder says. ''There isn't a force I've seen that can stand against it-- definitely not these ratty slumlords.'' "Ah... And we're called tyrants," The Beholder says sardonically. "Simply for having claws to protect, eyes to see threats, and arbiters to pass judgment. You 'heard' about a guy, so you nuke a city block. How very heroic. A child throwing a tantrum because the real world is complicated and scary.."
Ivy Carrow	"Just who do you think you're saving?"     "Imagine how bad it must be to be living here! I know it's hard to imagine taking down something that seems so entrenched, but if you're strong enough, you can!"     "It's probably gotten worse, now that their neighborhood started burning down." Absent of context, Ivy sees things simply. "Middle this, gang that--you're burning a city down." Ivy underlined what seemed, to her, the obvious point. She drew her sword from its sheathe, running a clawed hand along its edge. Blood began to trickle down it.     "If someone's house is full of termites, you don't save them by tearing it down." She flipped it around in her hands, catching it by the hilt. Its edge gleamed. "You make them somewhere else to go!"     "I always loved the multiverse." A smile. "A wide world of worlds, where anything was possible. Where where was room to be anyone. And the elites fighting to make that possibility real...Great heroes and villains..."     "I don't need to know everything about the middle or the City, to know which you are." She drapes her cloak over her free hand. For a moment, there's just the rising sound of fire. Then, the moment Berislav's pistol cracks, she becomes a red smear.     The incredible reach of Merelisa's arms can't intercept what's not actually traveling toward her. By the time she's appeared, just to the side of Merelisa, her sword is already half-extended in a lunge. The light shining from the burning city leaves the arc of her blade cutting through the air in a visible line, trailing behind Ivy's blade, and the terrible curse gleaming in her blood.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"My Firmament Driver. The last, end-all-be-all of power, that I made so that 'goodness' would never need to suffer this kind of slow, upwards struggle again. There isn't a force I've seen that can stand against it."     "Uh, good for you? Listen, you're not the only one here with the power to kill God or whatever, nor the only one who's actually done so. But you seem like the only one who knows how doing that doesn't always *help*."     "Fine. Do you want to know how bad it is? My first target for the Firmament Driver was an underground gambling ring, ran by that gang. I heard there was a guy who bet his eye for freedom from debts, and when they found out he'd cheated to win, they took the eyes of his whole family, even though they didn't do *anything*. These guys? *Everything* here is theirs. That singer? Works with the Middle. Those clubs? I bet they've all got seedy little backrooms for whatever sick deals they're doing. Those yachts are nests of crime and evil, and *you* all are content to do nothing about it, even when they're attacking *you*!"     "Okay, yeah, the Middle has this part of the city in a stranglehold. Sure. But you don't get someone out of a stranglehold by cutting their head off! This isn't like- you can't always go beat up the King of Crime until there's no more crime anymore! You're lucky to have gotten away with that so far, but most people, most places don't have that option. You're just bombing out people's homes! Someone lives above that nightclub, or next door to that gambling den, or whatever! It's like- shit."     "You ever dealt with kudzu vines? Of course you haven't. It's a rhizome, that means if you cut off all the stalks the root system stays alive. Even if you think you pulled it all up, leaving any of the roots in the soil lets it grow back. You can't get rid of it by just mowing it down to the soil. But you don't get rid of it by bombing the forest from orbit, either - that defeats the point! Then you don't have a forest left to save! You have to-"     Berislav: "We have to change the soil. Establish an environment that's toxic to sin."     "Basically that, yeah. This isn't a 'punch out the king of crime' situation, it's never going to be. We have to grow something valuable, not just burn anyone who looks at us funny."
Sarracenia	Sarra starts to reach out to take Merelisa's hand, then realizes...they would be holding hands! This makes her hesitate for a moment before she finally takes it and steps down from the hands. She listens to what Merelisa says to the rest of Trideag and the others here. Sarra knows how bad the City is, of course. She even agrees that big moves are better than small ones. Sarra has never been one for subtlety or the like. And they did not make small moves in the last world they saved.      Sarra listens intently to the story of Merelisa's childhood. She looks a little sad as she hears that Merelisa never found her hero...or -any- hero...growing up. "I see...I suppose...I never had quite the same trouble. In my world, princesses are supposed to be kidnapped so that a hero can save them. It is not a law or anything, but it has become a strong tradition thanks to our resident villains." Sarra says.      "...which...now I wonder...why has no one truly put an end to him?" Sarra continues. She still isn't actually trying to stop Merelisa. Hurting badguys is fine...right? Even hitting Kale's airship is fine as far as she is concerned. It's just a little fire. Kale's airship should be fine. "...but, if you forcefully save people without asking them or at least letting them know what you are doing and why will they understand that they have been saved?"      Sarra has not done a lot of saving people really, and most of it is still idealized saving where she did not have to do anything she thought was questionable to do it. "I think you are wrong about Trideag, though. They may be making small moves for now, but their goal is to free the City as well. It is just if they move too fast someone they care about could get hurt. And...not everyone working for one of those organizations is bad. I have met several Agents that are nice people just trying to do their best. Like Haschel! Or Hod!"      Sarra finally pulls out her hammer, but it is really just to show it to Merelisa. "Do you know why I use a hammer? It is because of the many choices of weapons...it is the least likely to kill someone I face in combat. Killing people...you cannot take it back, you know?"      Sarra notices a slight nod of approval from Ceri and...stares in a bewildered way for a few moments. That ozone feeling builds, and Sarra's eyes widen. "Wait, are you planning to fire it again?!" Sarra looks around at the other elites, then at the civilians. "Please, Merelisa! I know you want to help these people, but...this is not the way! The...the roots of evil are too deep here! You would have to level the entire city and most of its people if you wanted to uproot all of it! That is why I even joined the Trideag! We are working toward changing the entire city by changing its people! The people you are about to destroy are family to someone! And that means the people you save may think -you- are the badguy and just keep up the things that are making this City so terrible! And Trideag would welcome someone with your strength and resolve!"      The other elites start attacking in earnest, and Sarra freezes up with her hammer clutched against her. They...they have to fight Merelisa now? Because some corporate watcher is here or something? "Merelisa! I do not wish to fight you!"
Merelisa Shaynore	"...but, if you forcefully save people without asking them or at least letting them know what you are doing and why will they understand that they have been saved?"     Merelisa smiles sadly at Sarracenia, sympathetically shaking her head. "If you ask people, they won't be able to even imagine it. And they'll say no, because it's too scary to think about. They don't need to *know* that things are better, for them to feel it; and maybe one day down the line they'll forgive me." "I'd gladly burn in hell if it meant the end of hell on Earth,"     Merelisa's mechanical arm is knocked aside with a charred scorch mark, and then the sea breeze clears the smoke from around her, Merelisa's own fleshy arms are crossed in front of her chest.     "Then *help* me. In your metaphor, isn't the new growth of the same weeds less stable? Isn't it easier to fix the soil once it's tilled? It's fine if they resent me for it; I'm not doing this for fame, or whatever. I'm making people's lives better, because that's what I do."     "You can make whatever justifications you want. In the end, all you're doing is still *nothing*. Across the City, millions of people stay miserable every day because every day is the *same*, and just because you can't dream big enough to imagine a change on that scale, doesn't mean I can't. That's the most important thing that I'll change today: what *you* all think is possible." "I think you are wrong about Trideag, though. They may be making small moves for now, but their goal is to free the City as well."     Merelisa shakes her head again ar Sarra. "That's exactly the problem. It's always small moves, every day. And every day there's another reason to be a little more cautious, wait a little longer, and then you end up... just being part of it all. Not changing it. I want to *save* Trideag from that." "Th... Then break their stuff! Break their... Backrooms! The... Y-yeah, what Father Waters is saying!"     Merelisa scoffs at Odette, but her expression softens when she looks over to the tiny healer. "Even if they'd leave it behind, don't you think they deserve this? Should someone who's spent their life running a gang, terrorizing everyone, hurting whoever they feel like, get to walk free just because they said I could break their yacht? The yacht isn't the problem; the building that the gambling ring was in wasn't the problem. It's the people. Jail only works when the criminals aren't the ones running society-- when a society is *healthy*, then criminals can just be put away, because everyone agrees they're wrong. That's not how places like this work, when they're *ran* by evil."     One of the massive mechanical hands floats lower, and lightly flicks Odette on the back to make her roll away through the sand. "Just keep healing people. That's admirable, you know? Stick to that."
Merelisa Shaynore	"If you want to discuss strategy with Lilian, it'll be easier to do that at the Association than underneath a CHARGING LASER."     Merelisa shrugs, the tip of her blade carving a shallow arc in the pier at her feet. "I talked with her in the radio. Thaaaaat was how I came to this conclusion. I got her measure, as someone who wants to do good, and can only think of small ways to do it. I'm not planning on flattening the whole City myself, just showing people what's possible to do, and maybe stepping in whenever something's too big for you to handle." "If someone's house is full of termites, you don't save them by tearing it down." "You ever dealt with kudzu vines?"     "These aren't termites, or plants," Merelisa says patiently, with the full aura of dumbing it down for some idiots that are just too slow to get it. "These are people. And they're evil. Getting too caught up in metaphors is something that amateurs and naysayers do, in order to convince themselves to not do anything. They're hurting people, so hurt them back." "-going after my crew-"     There's a flash of surprise on Merelisa's face when Kale launches himself at her, but it's hard to place why. It's not from the attack itself-- she catches him with the full brunt of a mechanical palm-heel, hydraulic fingers coiling around to keep him from pulling away and dodging around the hand. Periactus throws out a spray of sparks when attempting to carve through the enchanted metal of the mecha, with crystal centers of power flaring up with bursts of elemental magic when he cuts their surfaces. A wave of artic cold blasts out from a crystal he cuts dead-on, and with the sudden chill slowing him down, her fingers close fully around him and he's hurled bodily away, into the facade of a schlocky tourist shop.     "If you're associating with monsters, then don't blame *me* when you're caught in the crossfire! You're the one directing your crew to give *scum* like that a hole they can slither into and hide!" Actually, Kale specifically might be able to recognize that specific brand of surprise. Surprise, that this *random city-guard-looking-ass* would start leveraging his personal relationships against her, and fighting her for them. "Th... Th-that wasn't even the... The bad people up there! Th-those were regular folks trying to go home!"     Merelisa whirls around and her mechanical hand lunges thirty, fifty feet away, wrapping around Odette before its shoulder-joint rubberbands back into place above her own. Odette is whipped backwards at breakneck pace, without the violence of being thrown around, and she's placed firmly on her feet in front of Merelisa, glaring down at her from six feet high (including heels).     "Who do you think is *on* those yachts?! One of the last gangsters I got my hands on told me that there was a *meeting* between their 'Big Siblings' going on, in this harbor. People responsible for this mess of a City, and all of their loyal underlings! Saving them is just giving them a bailout from what they deserve!"
Merelisa Shaynore	"Trideag... We have to stop her before she can fire that laser. That Eye up there can see everything."     The change in attitude that Merelisa has between addressing the Elites, as a horde of rivals to beat down and convince, compared to the Beholder, is chilling, like waves of cold sweat contrasting the flickering heat pouring off of all of her magic. "Of course. Of course every world *diseased* enough would have something like you. Surveillance, panopticons, overseers, the all-seeing eyes."     One of Merelisa's mecha hands swerves around, resting on the ground in front of her on its fingers like a table. A panel on the back slides open, revealing a glowing electronic screen, and she taps on it in rapid sequence, spitting derisively up at the Beholder.     "I'll be back for you eventually, you have my fucking promise on that. I don't care if you've abused every person in this city into loving you unconditionally, or if the ground would open up the moment you're gone. There's no future for people being watched, policed, *judged* at every turn."     She finishes typing in a sequence, and the Beholder's hologram flickers. Not enough to cut it off entirely, but looping information back to the source and overwhelming it with redundant data, so that picking out anything relevant is difficult and headache-inducing. "I don't need to know everything about the middle or the City, to know which you are."     Merelisa is staggered backwards by the unexpected melee clash, blocking Ivy clumsily on her shielded forearms before being able to maneuver her blade into position. With several cuts on her, some slashes through the metal lace bracers on her arms, a splatter of blood on her cheek from where it flung off of Ivy's blade, and her hair thrown a fraction out of position by all the moving around, even being just a few degrees off of perfectly manicured makes Merelisa look sort of frenzied. Or, maybe, that's just because Ivy made her extremely upset.     "You don't know anything. I don't even have to justify myself to you! There's no question that I'm right; I've done more good for people than you could ever stop me from doing!" Merelisa finally wedges her blade between herself and Ivy, using her superior weight and size to throw her away. Rather than letting her reset her distance, Merelisa's mecha hands both swing around to clap Ivy between them, pinning her.     "Here's no different! I won't stop, *ever*, with saving worlds from oppression! Come forth! Stellar Heart Andromeda!" The pearlescent jewel set in an ancient, woven-gold pendant hanging around her neck begins glowing with blinding white light, coalescing into a sphere of it orbiting around her. Hovering between herself and Ivy, it gradually seeps with color, a deep crimson red that spills into the orb like blood. When Ivy wriggles free and takes another swing at Merelisa, her greatsword cuts an arc of glowing-white tear through space, a portal that leads nowhere, catching Ivy's sword before winking out a second later. "Merelisa! I do not wish to fight you!"     The auroras in the sky are roiling as if timelapsed, coiling into a bullseye of concentric circles zeroed over the harbor. Even with the sun vanished below the horizon, it's near-daylight out, but tinged with shifting, twisting green, lending a ghostly cast to the previously lively beach party. Merelisa turns to Sarra with wide eyes, and wipes the splatter of blood off her cheekbone with a knuckle. She's breathing heavily, a bit ragged, but though her red hair and dress are nearly black in the ethereal green light, her eyes are as clear blue as ever-- and they don't *look* 'insane' or 'hateful' at all.     They look... kind of anxious, actually. "Sarra, please-- I don't want to either. I know this is a lot, but-- you have to trust me that it's for a good reason. We can talk about it later. I'm not here to hurt anyone that's not evil."
Father Berislav	That's the most important thing that I'll change today: what *you* all think is possible.     "This is a matter of fact, not a matter of opinion," says Berislav. "I have experience dealing with these sorts of problems from the ground level and by force. I know when to use each well enough to know that you're wasting your time and effort here."     "Look there," he says, pointing behind him at the Beholder without turning to look himself. "They're already accounting for the damage you can cause on your own, to work it into their plans. Even accounting for your interference--does that demon look more frightened, or annoyed, to you? Do you seriously think you're the first to ever have this idea? Or do you just think you're the only one in the entire Multiverse capable of carrying it out?"     "People have killed parts of this sinful place's power structure before--it's happened throughout the City's past, and every time, the weeds grow back just as strong as they were before. Why? Because the superstructure--the body of the hydra--is larger than any one head, and it doesn't matter how many you cut off."     "Do I have that correct, demon?" Berislav asks the Beholder, looking just barely over his shoulder to do so. These are people. And they're evil. Getting too caught up in metaphors is something that amateurs and naysayers do, in order to convince themselves to not do anything.     "You seem to think that building solidarity and helping exploited people survive conditions like this independently of abusive power structures are the same thing as neoliberal incrementalism. You should reconsider that," he says. "Most of these people are doing evil because it's very difficult to do good and very easy to do evil in a place like this. That's what I want to change."     "When you realize that you're wasting your time, I hope it's before you've made yourself persona non grata here. I really do think your heart's in the right place, but I can't waste any more time trying to talk you down from this when your mind is made up." The priest twirls the revolver and holsters it, making a series of bounding long leaps across the sand until he's back at the surf shop, running up the wall and working his way back into the City's innards, one leap at a time. There are people he has to inform about this--and people he has to check on.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"This isn't- you don't KNOW these people! You don't know this city, not even as well as I do! Have you even been here before?" Madeleine, finally, draws her spear from her back. "People like you - people who get a first glimpse of something real, something *living* and decide they know the best shape for it right away - make me SICK!" Having sufficiently telegraphed her attack, Madeleine rushes Merelisa. For a moment it looks like the huntress is heading straight for the 'heroine' herself, ignoring the swinging mecha-arms above and around Merelisa. In that moment it looks like a fool's errand, as one of those great hands swings down to slap Madeleine away. But instead she raises her weapon to meet the metal hand and-     *CRASH*     -Drogrung's great, translucent-green claws are out, grappling with the arm, straining hard to keep it held in place. With luck, this will create an opening for other Elites to get in close and tangle with Merelisa herself.
Angela	''In the end, all you're doing is still *nothing*'' "...We are building something," Solace says, the first thing she says. Her voice is hoarse but she still needs to speak. "We are building... a village. Don't... don't say that is nothing. Maybe saving a world... is easy for you... But this is not your home. How...can we stand tall... If we can't succeed with that weapon? If we cannot dream our own dreams?" Solace is not without sympathy for Merelisa's position but she can't countenance her willingness to talk down the Dame Commander who had given her a home. " ''Of course every world *diseased* enough would have something like you.'' "Diseased. Disease is the human condition, child. When the Machine Purge eradicated humanity, our walls stood strong. When the blood fiends waged war, intending to turn us all into blood fiends--the shine of our City blinded them and they had no choice but to forge a bond of peace on our terms. When the Wings warred with one another, we bound their vices with rules and laws. Even now they strain against these bindings. And you. You are one woman, friendless here and fighting alone. Your battle is costing you--more than it is costing us. You are scattering Feathers, nothing more." The Beholder's hologram flickers as Merelisa works on inflicting her with information overload. "So you have fought Eyes before. W-w-we wil have to establish c-c-countermeasures." ''Do I have that correct, demon?'' "My name is Luda." The Beholder says. "This is not the first time nor will it be the last." Perhaps like a demon, the Beholder has rules against lying rather than an honest soul. But she doesn't seem to have anything to say about the other attempts going on to change the City. Does that mean those attempts are not actually being successful by her estimation? Or does it mean that they are, and she doesn't want to acknowledge the little cracks organizations like Trideag and the Watch have smashed into place. Or is she so absorbed by the City's suprastructure that she can't even analyze what these organizations are doing--even without Merelisa's interference. Nevertheless, there seems to be some small lag hitting the Beholder as a result of Merelisa's efforts. But the Eye does not go to sleep. Solace raises her axe, stalling briefly as she sees that look in Merelisa's eyes. She squeezes them shut for a moment and then hardens her heart. She has responsibilities. She runs at Merelisa, swinging rapidly at her with the axe, trying to push her on her backfoot so that the others can find openings to strike through. "Sarracenia. We are a team." She croaks out. "Please--" She sees Berisalv leaving. The battle could go real bad real quick. And that weapon seems like it could fire any moment.
Kale Hearthward	It seems like, at some point or another, Kale gets thrown by most people he meets. (He is very satisfying to pick up and throw into a wall, as it turns out.) He goes through the tourist shop storefront, with a satisfying shattering of glass and a novel scattering of knick-knacks, topped off with a cascade of sproingy clothy sounds that - could be him colliding with a display of cheap umbrellas that all rapidly unfurl as they break? Neat! A minute later, he's re-emerging from the storefront, kicking his jet boots back on and closing in the distance on Merelisa again. > "If you're associating with monsters, then don't blame *me* when you're caught in the crossfire! You're the one directing your crew to give *scum* like that a hole they can slither into and hide!" "Yeah? You sure you want to do that?" Kale's calmed down a little bit, at least. Getting thrown is enrichment, maybe. "You sure you want to set that as your rules of engagement?" He adjusts his grip on his sword, which reverted back to its normal form during all of that excitement. "Going after support staff? Without giving a warning - or even a warning shot?" "I'd hope that someone like you would have better sense than that - the Watch has plenty of everyday people that'd be caught in the crossfire if any of *us* came in swinging like that. Am I wrong?" "Regardless of needing to teach you not to blow up the City - I can tell you this, if you so much as *look* at my people the wrong way, you'll wish you hadn't escalated first - because I'll make sure I'll have escalated *last*." He swings at her again - it's a regular sword attack, with more finesse than the giant drill strike - he's trying to get around her defenses, and land at least one good blow to emphasize his point. It's still very personal right now.
Odette Raskins	In the middle of trying to wrangle one of the last few stragglers onto their feet and shove them away, Odette notices Merelisa looking right at her. She doesn't notice the softening expression so much as she notices the scoff, and she flinches briefly like she's expecting another one of those flaming waves to come for her. Instead, though, Merelisa speaks, and she's once again looking uncertain. "Nnh... I-I mean, nobody... If they're really that bad, then maybe? Sure? B-but nobody's really that..." She sounds uncertain, too, as she's once again reminded of what prompted her to come here, to join the watch, to actually stop and listen instead of just dismissing what she's saying outright. "I mean, there's those... There wouldn't be stories about noble gangsters if at least soem of them weren't alright! And some of these people might be in... Th-they might be trapped doing that stuff?" Even Odette doesn't sound like she believes herself much on that last part, and more like she's trying to convince herself. The touch of the mechanical hands, perhaps predictably, gets a terrified scream out of her at first. The flick, also predictably, sends her tumbling head over ass a few times, but it's more startling than actually painful as she sits back up, looking more grumpy-embarassed than angry. "That's...!  That's the plan, yeah, but... I-it'd be easier to do that if more people weren't getting hurt. Even if they suck, just letting people die like that..." Trailing off, Odette stumbles clumsily back onto her feet and casts her gaze sideways as she tries to refocus herself on doing more of that people-saving she's often fond of doing. She tries to focus her thoughts on that singular task more than the more difficult thoughts running rampant in her mind, but what really gets her mind focused on is the mechanical hand coming back at her again. "Huh wh-AAAH!" With only has time to jerk her arm back against the stronger mechanical limb grabbing onto her, Odette gets yoinked right back at Merelisa with yet another terrified squeal. She gurgles incoherently at the whiplash and sheer speed of said yoinking going straight to her head, and shelooks ready to faint once Merelisa sets her down in front of her. "Buhbuhbuh... Huh? H-hi?" Still gurgling a little incoherently, Odette looks up at Merelisa, only now realizing that there's a pretty noticeable size difference between them and looking off to the side a few degrees, like she's having trouble maintaining eye contact. Eventually, though, she's able to get her thoughts in order again as the heroine speaks of the meeting and the 'Big Siblings'. "A-and that's why you're... Doing all this, right? The heads and the leaders might be... O-okay, maybe they're almost all awful, but the underlings... What if they're just too stupid to know better?" She swallows anxiously and sucks in another frightened/confused breath, even managing to turn her eyes back to Merelisa again. "A-and even if they do know better, I can't just... Do you really want me to stand by and watch people die?"
Ivy Carrow	"Just look at you--"     A strike, from above, flickering out of existence, now by a pile of rubble.     "--saying how you deserve--"     In front of her, slicing upward. But Merelisa's blade catches hers. There's a clash of steel-on-steel, but then Ivy's gone.     "--to burn down the lives--"     "--of STRANGERS!" Ivy's sword struck home in a shallow cut, only for her to fall into the grasp of Merelisa's arms. She struggled and squirmed, red fountaining from her like mist as she tried to shift her own space. But, manhandled and crushed, she couldn't manage to find the focus to isolate herself--even if she tried to erase the distinction between here and there, she was still held fast, here.     "Here's no different! I won't stop, *ever*, with saving worlds from oppression! Come forth! Stellar Heart Andromeda!"     There's a look that comes over Ivy's face, as Merelisa speaks those words. Something difficult to describe--disgust? Yes, that's there, certainly. Determination? Oh, in spades. But something else, too...     There's a moment of peace, of stillness, just enough for Ivy to disappear, and now she's striking out again, her blade carving through the air--     --and through a black void, chillingly familiar.     Suddenly Ivy is back, now, a good distance away, on one knee. Breathing hard. "I know what you are." She spoke up, the last piece of that expression sliding into place...     ...Pity.     "You might have gone through a warpgate...But, you're still in your own world." Ivy said, one hand clutched into a fist. "And now, you're trying to bring it with you out here. All the marvels and miracles of the multiverse, and you'd rather believe everything's the same as back home."     "The worlds beyond are wider and stranger than you could ever imagine." Ivy ran a hand along her blade, and some of the blood slips onto her hand. "Chosen ones, and great heroes, and slayers of gods, demons and angels everything between..."     "It's beautiful..." She licked at her finger. Tasted the blood. "But you'd rather believe everything's the same..."     "...But you're not even the only one with tricks."There's a rippling. A streaking red of blood swirling upward from her claw, seeping out from her wounds. Congealing in the air above her as...Is that...?     A pair of floating, sanquine gauntlets, hovered over Ivy's shoulder, grotesque mockery of Andromeda. Independent of her hands, they flexed and clenched, experimentally.     And then, they SMASHED into Merelisa. When Ivy warped about space, there was more to worry about than the swords--fists tried to slam into her, catching Merelisa in a pincer, tried to block her hands, tried to push through the her mimicry of Ivy and make space for her blade to strike home.     And with every little cut, the blood throbbed. Vessels under the skin threatened to writhe in rebellion, at the act of resistance. Still, Ivy found herself wondering...     Would it be enough?
Sarracenia	'Sarra, please-- I don't want to either. I know this is a lot, but-- you have to trust me that it's for a good reason. We can talk about it later. I'm not here to hurt anyone that's not evil.'      "I...I know! I know that you are not here to hurt anyone that is not evil! But, that is a really big attack! That Firmament Driver is amazing and I can see how it would do some amazing good! Like it did against the Darkmancer! But...but that was a stronghold full of only evil! This is a /CITY/! How can you be sure that only those who are evil were caught in the blast or the aftermath?!"      Sarra's hand rakes through her hair, mussing the usually pristine hairstyle as she looks around at the other elites and the city and then back to Merelisa. "I...I want to trust you! I want to more than anything! But...but I have never heard of a hero or heroine who saved a city from evil by using such heavy-handed techniques! This sort of destruction is the realm of the well-intentioned supervillain! But...but true heroes, those that have the power and determination to make a real difference like this, do not deal in acceptable losses!"      Sarra is having a really rough time deciding what to do. She has just been talking with Merelisa and watching the others put themselves at risk. "Trideag is not doing nothing! We are meeting people! Helping them to see there is another way! And that is how we will change this City for the better! By changing the people in it!"      It is hard for Sarra to watch as Merelisa is declared a villain by the others here. As the others fight, Sarra makes a call.      And the Sundew Sovereign comes flying in within moments. It was not far away, waiting to ferry Sarra home after her day here. It moves to directly under the targeting area, between where the laser is likely to strike and the yachts in the kill zone. Sarra looks toward the ship, then back toward Merelisa. "...I am sorry. I do not regret for a moment the bond we formed, but...I must do what I think is right, just as you are. If you wanted to go crawling through buildings rooting out every single evil villain in this City by hand, I would gladly help you. But this...mass destruction...I am sorry, but..."      Sarra takes the the air, flying over to land on her ship. If the laser comes down, it is guaranteed to hit Sarra and the Sundew Sovereign. It is a last ditch non-combat effort on Sarra's part to save lives. Some of or even most of those lives might be evil. But, some of them, somewhere in there, might be good or at least neutral.      Sarra stands tall on the bow of her ship, and the entire crew moves to be visible on deck. And the princess leads them in a salute despite many of them trembling...perhaps the last the many piranha plant sailors will ever give.
Merelisa Shaynore	"They're already accounting for the damage you can cause on your own, to work it into their plans."     Merelisa follows where Berislav points to the Beholder with seething hatred, incrementally encouraged and soothed by his reference towards them as a 'demon'. Still, though, the sight of the smug hologram just redoubles her certainty, fueled by personal vendetta.     "Even a hydra has a heart." Hold on, what was that about metaphors? "They're not afraid because they're just as *buried* in it all, like it's the only way the world could be, with them on top. *These* people might be small fry," indicating the yachts, "But cut out *those*, and the vacuum collapses in on itself. It takes time to build up power, and half of that power comes from learned hopelessness." "When you realize that you're wasting your time, I hope it's before you've made yourself persona non grata here."     "But I-- I'm doing the *opposite* of that!" Merelisa shouts her protests at Berislav's receding back, less like a steady ideological declaration, and more like petulantly getting in the last word of an argument even while her emotions are a mess. She watches him disappear into the City streets for a second, the green tint of the light on her skin and the shadows cast by her hair picked up by the breeze making it impossible to read her expression, before she tears her sword out of where it bit into the concrete and brandishes it at the Elites again. "People like you - people who get a first glimpse of something real, something *living* and decide they know the best shape for it right away - make me SICK!"     Madeleine makes it easy for Merelisa to get back into her familiar mindset, at least. "Deciding its shape? I'm not *deciding* anything-- I'm cutting away the shackles that *stop* this city from growing! You say *I'm* making decisions about something too quickly, but you're saying I'm some kind of sick conqueror just because I don't want to color inside the *lines* like you!"     Merelisa's attack patterns are simple enough to predict. Reaching out to grab Madeleine like she'd blocked Kale, the mechanical hand gets unexpectedly wrenched aside by the manifestation of Drogrung. It's Kale that gets through when her threatened area is reduced, while Merelisa seems to physically strain her *own* body in order to wrestle Drogrung with her remote controlled arms, biting into her side where there's no armor at all. Besides her bracers, arms, and greaves, she's actually not wearing anything besides a normal dress, though her body is naturally tough enough to only be left with a thin cut. "You sure you want to set that as your rules of engagement?"     "I--" Half cut off by a gasp of pain, half by hesitation, Merelisa refocuses on Kale with a glare. "You *involved* them in the fight! I didn't do that! I'm just doing what I have to, no matter who's in the way! Take better care of them next time yourself, if you don't want them hurt!" "We are building... a village. Don't... don't say that is nothing."     "It's... I don't mean to insult your home." Solace's hesitation is a lot more damning than Merelisa's. Torn free from Drogrung's grasp, a person-height hand comes swinging to backhand her, but slows just before connecting and bends back to physically block her from approaching with fingers splayed like a wall. Through the gaps between the fingers, while they exert hydraulic force to shove Solace backwards through the sand, Merelisa can be seen looking over in her direction.     "Your home's important to you. But there's a lot more people than just you-- there's a lot more people than just everyone here in the harbor, too. I'm sure your home's nice, but it's not doing the most good for the most people."
Merelisa Shaynore	"A-and even if they do know better, I can't just... Do you really want me to stand by and watch people die?"     Merelisa sighs at Odette, chest-achingly pained. A mechanical hand floats over and hovers above Odette's head, cupping it and patting in a stroking pattern that's shockingly gentle for something so oversized.     "... I couldn't possibly ask that from someone with such a gentle heart. But if you weren't here, saving the lives of criminals and villains, you'd be somewhere else, saving better people, wouldn't you? This isn't the only place you could be helping, and you know it's not the best place."     Merelisa steps close and leans over, using her mecha hand like a privacy umbrella to talk close to Odette's face, steady blue eyes piercing through hers. "So, I'm really, really asking you, to get away from here right now. I'll throw you myself if you won't. If you have to come back after, just, please, prioritize anyone but the ones in purple. You won't be able to save them all; so save the ones that deserve it less." "I know what you are."     Merelisa stares at Ivy, reset back to neutral after their clash. Her mechanical arms float neatly shoulder over shoulder, massive fists curled at her side, while her sword angles down. Healing magic sparkles in inconsistent pops where crystals are woven into her clothes, repairing the wounds to her body, though red oily fluid still drips from one metal fist. The blood-red orb of Ivy's stolen magic orbits around her, a miniature planetoid in her own solar system. "You might have gone through a warpgate...But, you're still in your own world."     "... I was the *best* in my world." Merelisa practically growls, low, teeth gritted. "I did what no one else could. And my world was a thousand others in one, with more... differences, and nuance, than any of the others out here I've found so far. If I did *that*, then I'm adaptable enough for *any* of these worlds-- and they *need* me, so I refuse to just sit and watch just for not-- not growing up in them."     Merelisa skids backwards along the concrete from the first unexpected hit of Ivy's new gauntlets. Her own mechanical fists pry their fingers off of her, then interlace to either side and grip their mirrors in a pure matched strength contest. Merelisa grits her teeth and steps forwards towards Ivy, mecha hands straining for force Ivy's back, but with both of their extra limbs occupied, it's just sword versus sword, heavy greatsword versus rapier, clashing in the center of the makeshift ring.     Or, rather, sword and magic versus sword and magic. Shoving Ivy away, Merelisa pulls out an orange-red crystal, chanting a quick spell to expend it into glitter that coalesces around her sword. With each swing, a tongue of fire lashes out of the blade, stretching longer and whipping around at Ivy and others with each attack. Eventually, once it's long enough, Merelisa swipes her hand along the length of the blade, flinging the flailing tendril of fire off of it. It floats into the air and wraps into an ouroboros, settling onto the ground before exploding in a huge ring, leaving just herself and Sarracenia at the center of it. "This sort of destruction is the realm of the well-intentioned supervillain! But...but true heroes, those that have the power and determination to make a real difference like this, do not deal in acceptable losses!"     Merelisa takes a step back, hurt painted on her face. "Sarra, I-- that's not-- do you know how long that'd take? It's like-- like cutting weeds a stem at a time, while they're choking out flowers. Doing things *perfect* isn't ever what's in the most people's best interest. Heroes have to-- to make the *hard* decisions sometimes, you know?"
Merelisa Shaynore	"...I am sorry. I do not regret for a moment the bond we formed, but...I must do what I think is right, just as you are."     "Sarra--!!!"     Merelisa lunges-- with her own hand, not her mecha hand-- out to try and grab Sarracenia before she flies away, but she's a hair too slow. As the glow in the sky intensifies to a green so bright that it's indistinguishable from white, and the sharp shadow of the Sundew Sovereign drifts over to shield the yachts, Merelisa visibly makes a low choking noise, deep in her throat.     She shoots a glance across the scorched and battered Elites, and the cratered and abandoned beach, and the flaming cityscape behind them. Her eyes are wide, stressfully making quick calculations in a split second, while obviously not being very deft at the math. There's a tense moment where the ozone in the air is so chokingly thick that it feels like the tang might smother you even before the Firmament Driver fires, and then it snaps all at once.     A blue glitchy distortion appears in the sky, shifting the auroras by indeterminate degrees. An instant later, a beam of solid white light lances across the sky at a *steep* angle, crossing from the harbor to the horizon in the blink of an eye. Clouds are sheared in half and then evaporate into irradiated plasma, the sky blooms ultraviolet, and the heat slams down a full second later like a shockwave, rumbling the ground even though the laser didn't touch it.     It's hard to tell how long the beam lingers, because the seared blind spot from looking at it lingers longer. Merelisa, with her mecha hands laced over her head like an umbrella, is spared, and starts to stalk off while everyone else is still recovering, heels scuffing against concrete.     "I'll be back, to pluck out the awful Eyes of this City. And anyone who tries to stop me *then*, will be just as culpable as the worst scum this shithole has to offer."
Ivy Carrow	"... I was the *best* in my world."     "You were." Came Ivy's answer in return, but it wasn't impressed. "You don't know how not to be the top dog. You don't know how not to be in charge. Now, you're just ANOTHER chosen one, and you can't take in what the multiverse really has to offer. Or...Its dangers."     It's only the ongoing clashes with the others that gives Ivy room to breathe, to reel back. But the fighting is constant, and fierce. When the fire of her sword comes to life, spooling out in a whip, it tears through her side before she can slip away, clutching a hand to her side, she can't help but fall back, taking a moment to assess the damage...     ...and then...Then...the drive...     The sky...The sky catches fire.     It's only quick thinking that saves Ivy from becoming a smear on the ground. She pulled her cloak around her body, bloody gauntlets closing around her to block a little more of the blast. She shut her eyes tight and then--     --Burning, terrible light. She could see it through her eyelids. The energy of the blast flowed through her cloak, like a hungry void, but there was still enough left to reflect through the cracks beneath her. A reflection of a reflection of a reflection, and it still scalded her.     Had she trained Nina well enough? Would Alex and the others be able to keep It at bay? Would Castle Carrow still stand...?     But then the burning stopped, gauntlets pried the cloak free of her body, then fell, splattering as blood on the ground. A long streak of unburned street stretched out behind her, where her cloak had absorbed the terrible tide of fire.     "--Captain! Captain?! Ivy! Are you there...?"     "Vice-Captain." Ivy croaked. "...You have command."     "Thank god you're alive, I don't know what I'd--"     "I think..." Ivy coughed, forcibly pushing herself to her feet. "...I need a medic." With a slash of her hand, she cut a hole open in the world. She began the slow, painful process of evacuating the survivors...Starting with the other members of the thirteenth.
Sarracenia	'Sarra--!!!'      Sarra can't help but look back for a few moments as she flies, but she continues on.      As she and the sailors on the Sundew Sovereign hold the salute, the glowing of the auroras and the blue glitchyness flashes around them, silhouetting them against the sky.      Sarra has put all her chips in on this one, putting all her faith in Merelisa's heroism and their friendship. Of course, she didn't really consider the consequences to the latter that her stunt might have.      She and all the piranha plant sailors shriek as the beam fires. They naturally assumed that they just got hit...but they didn't! Instead, they get the absolute worst sunburns they have ever experienced as the Sundew Sovereign smolders for a few moments before bursting into flame. The masts carrying the propellers practically become cinders in an instant and the ship starts to lose altitude almost immediately.      The plants are down immediately. Sarra manages to stumble forward a few steps before falling onto the deck as well. The airship lands in the water safely except for all the fire. It does create a bit of a wave from its landing since it is a 200+ foot warship, even if it is made of wood.      Hopefully someone hops into fire and rescue mode, but even if no one else moves to start putting out the fire or pulling survivors from it another Sundew navy ship arrives in short order and starts fighting the fire. In a few more minutes another arrives. Eventually half the fleet is here, tending to what survivors they can gather and collecting the still smoldering Sarracenia.      The princess's eyes are barely open as she is carried off in a stretcher. But, her dress is just a charred ruin, and her skin is only somewhat better off. Her shining copper hair is blackened and burned. And yet, her eyes still track Merelisa as she walks away.
Angela	Solace stares into Merelisa's eyes. Her eyes don't look desperate or determined. They look resigned. Hasn't Merelisa seen this look in someone's eyes before? The eyes of someone she had to restore hope for by fighting so desperately back on her own homeworld? The eyes who have acknowledged that Merelisa will blast her home with a laser from space and that whatever comes from that is something she is just going to have to live with. Soothe and Cheer will be lrihgt, she thinks. If she dies, they'll still be set for life. That is the knowledge that lets her keep working as a Hunter. A Fixer. She can swing that axe without hesitation because her children will be fine. They might not be thrilled, but they'll be okay. Her axe slams into the beach dust, her axe dragging a line through the sand but she stumbles into a crouch. This woman might even be a threat for the Dame Commander, she thinks. Try as she might, she can't break through her defenses. ''I'm sure your home's nice but it's not doing the most good for people.'' Solace doesn't stumble over her words because she's shy or unsure of herself. The scars on her throat tell plenty of a story and what she's been through."My children's future..." She begins. But then her gaze drifts upward--as does Ceri--and even the Beholder turns to look at a ship. An act of self sacrifice, even in the City, can adjust a course of a tale. How many lives were spared by Sarracenia gambling her own life? Something, surely, only she could have done in the moment? Ceri shields her eyes and hits the deck. Despite trying to kill Sarracenia in a duel before, it is the nature of a Cinq Director to let matters end with the duel--Sarracenia acting off this kind of principle is something she never expected. She'll remember the surprise in her report. Solace is knocked off her feet and is thrown across the beach. She's bruised and battered but she'll be fine, but she's not in a condition to lend a hand to anyone. Ceri gets up first, having been just slightly farther away from the blast and less in the thick of things. "Shit...Sarracenia...! You damned fool...!" Ceri swears. "For this hellhole? For ''this''." She runs towards the ship, shouting, "Odette! Need you immediately! Fuck there's no way a fire team's gonna show up--Anyone know water magic or something?? Fuck!" She climbs onto the deck, holding her rapier between her teeth as she checks Sarracenia's pulse. "Hahn....You crazy bitch." She says before lifting a hand up to her radio. "She's alive but she needs medical treatment fast. We'll handle it at Trideag--Careful through the portals, okay?" She looks up towards the Beholder. But she's no longer there. The Eye is done looking for today. Or at least, is done announcing it.
Odette Raskins	For perhaps the first time, Odette doesn't flinch at the mechanical head coming to her head. She freezes up a bit, sure, but she doesn't recoil from it budging like she has every other time Merelisa's so much as glanced in her direction with all that might she's throwing around. Is Merelisa finally getting through to the EMT? Is Odette already starting to get used to being handled this way? It's a combination of both, and it even lets her look back up at Merelisa again, one eye involuntarily shutting for a second at the patting. "Nn... I-I guess I would. There's always more work to do, more people to treat, and..." She breathes in slowly, sniffing lightly and clearing her throat like she's trying to hide how slightly wet that sounded. "It doesn't really end, no. E-especially not out here." She almost sounds like she'll chuckle at that moment, but she doesn't. "But it's because this place is the way it is that me and everyone else in the Association have to be here. Even if I'm not fast or strong like everyone else..." Odette trembles a bit again, like she's repressing something. "... Because I'm not, I can't turn away if they're right in front of me. There... There might not be anyone else I can reach in time if I do that." She mumbles, eyes turned downwards again as Merelisa gives thme both that moment of privacy to stare right into her eyes. It takes a moment for her to even notice that happening, but she lets out a startled (yet not frightened) squeak once she does make that too-close eye contact again. "H-huh? Uh... Wh. Th-throw? I don't..." Realistically, it's not as though she has much of a choice in the matter. It's not as though she has the ability to fight or even escape Merelisa if she was truly being targeted, and getting plastered against a wall would mean saving fewer people both now and later. That, and it's also kind of hard to refuse when Merelisa's staring right at her like that. "Nnnh.... Mm. F-fine, Miss Shaynore. There's... J-just. Please don't aim anything else towards the main... Um. Part Of the Backstreets. The people in the slums really don't know better, even if they're kind of gross about some things." Once she's released, Odette does indeed shift her attention away from the pier as promised. There's still triage to do further back and away from the pier, and there's Elites to treat after seeing all the explosions in the sky and fires at sea. The one where Merelisa seems to be trying to redirect her own blast is especially confusing, but the massive wave of energy and residual heat just from being near it is enough to hurl through a few damaged walls, eventually forcing her to scramble and cower behind.... Something. She can't identify some of these shapes anymore, and she doesn't try to as long as they're not moving. She just needs to make sure the people ones that are moving get the emergency treatment they need, Sarracenia included. She might be a little rough in her handling of the princess when it comes to making sure Sarra's properly triage'd, but it's a far better alternative than letting her succumb to something even Merelisa tried to stop.