Multiverse Crisis MUSH - User contributions [en]

6963/ALLIANCE: The Center Of The Maze

2022-12-22T20:39:09Z

Phuzzy:

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/01/02
|Location=The Crystal Tower, Eorzea
|Cast of Characters=819, 7148, 7180, 7175, 6, 598
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The place? A massive elevator in the center of the Main Foyer of the Labyrinth of the Ancients. Where once it remained in a locked position in the middle of the massive raised platform over top the Giant Cistern Of Literal Liquid Aether, now the controls have come on line, there's a bunch of Allagan text there that seems to indicate 'Press Here To Activate', and a rather anxious looking Ax Catte. N'raha is busy working a stone across the blade of Bravura, the ax already magically sharp, but, well. It pays to maintain your gear, in any case.     Off to the side, Nero and G'raha are busy with a bunch of devices and consoles and widgets that appear to have been trucked in from the Ironworks, and have them routed into ports and sockets on the side of the elevator. Almost time. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' Guzma and the Skull Trio are back, with their bandanas, hats, and bling. The white-haired Guzma steps up, several pokeballs around his waist, and approaches the Allagan text. "Alright, yo, let's get to work." And then he pushes to activate, while the rest of Team Skull dances behind him. While he's here, he does turn to Lezard when he approaches, and gives him a supportive nod. He likes Lezard, and he considers Lezard the 'ranker' here, evne if they're the same rank, since Lezard has more experience in the Concord and knowledge of 'weird magic crap'. "So, what's the plan, Valeth?" 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' Amelris Belthrone is being an adventurer. Which is to say, poking his nose in things that does not concern him and things that looks very shiny, interesting and likely dangerous. Such as the many screens that surrounds the massive elevator inside of it. The Red Mage is peering at the screens with much interest. His rapier is sheathed at his side, a hand on it's hilt as he observes the magiteck around them. "Very, very, very nice." The Miqo'te mutters outloud. "It's amazing that everything have been sitting here for centuries, undisturbed." He leans over to get a closer look at some of the Allagan text, smiling. "Amazing. Simply amazing." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna has been kneeling on the flagstones, her blade drawn and resting point-down on those same stones, for some time now while the party gathers, praying, or meditating, mumbling something that sounds like scraps of a song under her breath as she recenters herself after days of revelry for Starlight and Heavensturn. Fully armed and armoured, she closes her hand around the shimmering blue soulstone she's been singing softly to, and stands up. The solemn expression on her face breaks. "Don't stress." Alruna says, clapping N'raha on the shoulder with a beaming smile as she walks past to take her place on the platform, waiting patiently. She's been through here several times since the first foray, with the Adventurer's Guild, to make sure the Ironworks.../consultant/, and the other Raha, aren't jumped by any unpleasant surprises; all the wondrous Allagan technology has lost a bit of its novelty for her. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The text, as far as has been translated and noted (with some rather pointedly offworld Post-It Notes) says that there's power readings from the deeper parts of the Wings. Looks like the other teams have been working to get the main shaft back up and running, and unlocking... either actual power readings or safety switches or whatever to get the elevator up and running. It's Allagan and a dungeon, and that's esoteric, at best. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' She had told N'Raha at the new year's party? She was with him and she'd put her money where her mouth was as she'd shown up when they were called for another run. She'd left a note with the GU to where she'd runoff too. She had arrived had given Nero a look wh4n she di and was moving to fall into the group her sword dawn breaker was at her hip and she had the mourning wall with its ever-shifting names on it ready. "Geeze." She pops out her smartphone and takes a few images of things before banishing it back into her inventory. She looked ready to move out. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Lezard Valeth returns to the Crystal Tower. This Labyrinth is full of plenty of things that interest him, really the more difficult thing would be keeping him /away/. Still, the Sorceror of Midgard sweeps in through the entranceway once more, smiling at the sight of the churning liquid aether roiling below the platforms.     His gaze hangs over the little station where Nero and his assistant G'raha seem to be set up doing investigations, and nods to himself and does not continue to concern himself with the support.     No, instead he looks to Guzma. He returns the nod. "At this point the objective appears to be to access this overcomplicated moving platform so we may find a path into the Tower itself. Undoubtedly, it will be sealed behind yet more absurd guardians. At this point, it will be simple enough a task to follow the flood of 'heroes' and allow them to dash themselves against the cliff as it were."     His gaze turns to the axe-wielding catman, and he frowns for a moment. "I would tell you to be cautious, but you already know what to expect, I believe." He says. "No one here is going to concern themselves with your well-being. Be prepared to operate on your own at a moment's notice." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Guzma, of all people, seems to be the quickest to start things off. He presses the button, and the whole thing... shifts and shudders and starts up, moving and rumbling. Nero, for his part, smiles. It's not a polite smile. "I guess you're going now. Be sure to let us know what you find up there, by the way. And don't break too much. I know that will be.... difficult for some of you." A glare at N'raha and Amelris, specifically. Huh. I wonder what this guy has against THOSE TWO?     N'raha huffs a bit at Lezard, and bright green eyes glare at the man from under that red visor, even as he nods to Alruna and shuffles up and onto the elevator himself. It's time. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "No promises!" Amelris shouts back as the elevator starts moving, the Red Mage giving him a two-fingered salute. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe gumbles about the dragon horror from last time unaware of what might be thrown at them this time. She looks to Alruna then to N'raha. She knew N'raha was very good at his job and Alruna had left a good impression with her. So she seemed ready as she was going to be she drew her blade and would push to the front of the party and takes a look at Lezard. On one hand some of the best damn fire-support in the multiverse. On the other, it's Lezard Valeth. She would just have to deal and away she goes for the lift not wanting to end up left behind. Well there was one thing that she thought of she'd get to see both Amelris and Alruna in action today. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The elevator shudders... and starts to move upwards. Up and up, through the sky, a floating, rail-less platform, rising up into the vaulted ceiling, and up through a suddenly opening portal. Huh. That's interesting.     And as it slides up and into position, the light's glare fades and people are able to see... a short platform, heading off over a less roiling, but still deadly looking flow of aether fluid. It's less orange than before though, and a much more acrid looking cyan in color, maybe a different aspect? That's a question for the Eggheads, though, because what's much more clear is someone waiting for them, at the end of that pathway. The room itself is clearly a control room of some sort, with dial and gauges and floating widgets and everything, all whirring and buzzing. Much more elegant, much more Allagan than the gear downstairs. It all menaces with Ancient Intents.     The man at the center of the room, though, seems very much out of place to all that. He frankly reminds the lot of you of Amelris. He's tall. Human-ish, and Extremely Flamboyantly Dressed. Gaudy is the word of the day, his outfit bearing Magitek braiding, glowing red and blue in the light of the room. and atop his head is a gaudy, feathered chapeau. "And I see the little mice that have been scurrying about inside the tunnels have made their final entrance. Well. I shan't keep you all waiting, dear little mice. A man needs an audience after all, and this show CERTAINLY requires one." He gestures, and then holds out a hand, a sword visible under his cape. "Let's start the show, shall we?"                                     AMON                                                                 CHIEF MAGITECHNICIAN                             

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Lezard moves towards the elevator slowly, watching everyone assemble on the moving platform. Again, he looks to N'raha with a measuring gaze, only to get that glare in return. He matches the green eyes with his own stare, a smile widening as he moves to join the others. Only then, when everyone seems to be assembled, does Lezard step onto the elevator. The fact that there seems to be a couple more would-be heroes than before does not seem to concern him.     The platform rises, and Lezard steps out onto the approach only to see the Intense Flamboyance confronting him. He scowls. "What kind of absurdity is this?" He declares. He does not step into the area clearly prepared by the man to battle his opponents, instead hanging on the edge. Energy flares around him dramatically, giving his cape a flaring motion as if he is working to match the man in his own Evil Wizard way. "I was not aware that we would be met by the court jester. Explain yourself. What is your purpose here? This is a place ill fit for theatre." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna chuckles softly. She doesn't know Nero's /specific/ malus against the two catmen, but it's probably a worthwhile story. She turns her head, casting her eyes over their party, assessing. Several of these people are outlanders, so it's going to be a learning experience fighting alongside them, she muses as the elevator goes up. And they don't all seem to be on the same page, either. No introductions needed, it seems. For anyone, even the man(?) who confronts them. She pulls down her winged helmet's visor and advances, readying sword and shield. She would have to be very stupid indeed to not realise that this stranger has had plenty of time to prepare for their arrival. No, she just doesn't care. Someone's got to step on the trigger plate, after all. "On guard!" she says, surging forward with a thrusting stab, because Exposition is for Echo visions and /after/ you've beaten the hell out of someone. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      The Red Mage left with a wide, confident grin. This do not change as they head up, glancing over at the opening portal, the new colors -- colors that he spends some time pondering over, infact. He IS a Egghead, technically. As they make their way down the pathway, Amelris' attention is set on the various dials, gauges and technological menace around them. More importantly, the man at the middle of the room.      "BY THE TWELVE!" Amelris exclaims, spreading his arms and pointing at Amon. His mouth is open, agape, his eyes wide at the whole of Amon. "What have you DONE with yourself!? All of this color, it's clashing with one self! You went much too far on the Gaudy side, my friend! It's too much, /TOO MUCH/. Has your mother dressed you like this!? Tch."      Amelris drums the guard of his rapier, the gem tingling with his nails. "I do dig the hat, thought. That is some nice feathers. Quite amazing feathers, at that. He steps in after Alruna, knowing full well to let the Tanks go first, pooling his hands to begin casting. Black energy crackles out of his Rapier Rod, then launched out into unleashing a purple and red blast at Amon, spinning with a flourish to launch a second one. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The lift shudders as they head up, it up into the sky more or less she can see the place and she seems more than a little impressed at this place. That doesn't last too long though she'll leave the egghead to worry about how all this magical tech works. She only has a limited understanding of things that don't run on magic. Tomoe looks to Alruna and then to N'raha for a moment. Then to the man who has the most fabulous outfit she's ever seen native to this world. "Mice are we? Well then let's get this show on the road shall we." Tomoe knows there are two other what she'd call tanks here she makes ready to move in but Lezard is not yet attacking that makes her pause either he's sensed something she hasn't. Or he's got another plan like trying to recruit the guy into the Concord. "Hate to tell you this sir? All that's in this tower is all that remains of your people. Do you really want to /do/ this?" She's knowing there's going to be a fight but maybe there might be some answers as unlike the lower level this is clearly not an rabdi undead thing before them. With Alruna rushing in she'll rush on in as there's no stopping this fight. She charges on in poping several of her tanking abilities as she does so, lashing out with her blade the moment she gets into melee range. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' As they go up, Guzma ignores Nero because Nero was kind of a jerk to him once, and approaches. He grabs one of the yellow and black spheres on his belt, clicks the button, and throws. He's a little unnerved by the sword, but... "Vikavolt." The weird flying bug with the very long mandibles appears. It floats up, and then, as the man proclaims himself. "Tackle him." It's a test of how fast his reactions are. Vikavolt slams into him with speed, moving to tackle Amon and try and get some light damage, but mostly, give Guzma an idea of ability. Lezard has a plan, so, he needs to also keep hostilities off Lezard. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Tall Man rolls his eyes at Lezard, and then bows. "If you think me the Jester, it simply means you cannot fathom what fashion is. Should a master of a keep be as... dim and dingy and dour as you, Ser Warlock? Has your lust for power ruined your sensibilities and your color palette?" A cocky grin, and then he turns and wheels on the Heroes as they approach.     N'raha and Alruna apparently have the same idea in place as they both charge the Magitechnician and with a flourish of energy, he simply steps aside, letting the attacks slam into an aetheric barrier he lifts to parry away the blow. "Come now, both of you, such IMPATIENCE."     Amelris' magical blast, however, as well as the smashing assault from Vikavolt stagger the man, and he hisses out. "SEE? This is just as was forseen. A bunch of meddlers. Pretenders to the glory of Allag. Not once have ANY of you stopped to consider the ramifications of your actions. NOT ONE OF YOU..."     He sighs, and shifts, and straightens up again, dusting off his cloak. A moment to resettle his hat. "Waited for proper introductions. I am Amon, chief Magitechnologist of the Allagan Empire. This is MY Tower and will remain that way until I reawaken the Master. So. Please, sit back and let this all happen like the good little mice you are."     A grin. "I'm asking nicely."     He really isn't, unless raising a barrier around the party, and then lighting everyone on fire is 'asking nicely'. The Barrier is to protect the equipment, after all. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     "Tch. I have no need of taking /fashion advice/ from a dead man." Lezard retorts. As the barrier rises, Lezard simply smiles. "Predictable. Of course he would raise a powerful magical barrier to keep you away from his equipment and trap me outside of the battle." He sighs dramatically. "But you are not the only one who can play a part, jester. Give me regards to the heroes. I have matters to attend to."     At that, Lezard turns, flourishing his cape once more as the circle of his teleportation spell draws itself around him, the Sorceror of Midgard vanishing... elsewhere?     As for where, that will become apparent shortly. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Well, that's not a great start!      The fire blasts through the arena. Amelris, certainly, try to avoid it in his usual way: by moving in a grandios way. It does not work. Instead, a surprise amount of fire is unleashed and, while he do avoid his original intended fireball, he does land squarely into another one. This has the obvious effect.      Amelris picks himself up, grunting to himself as he dusts his clothing and taps to get some of the burning flames out. "I'll be honest, that WAS quite rude of us. So, do tell us about /your Master/ if you're so inclined! We don't have all day!"      Amelris' floating gem, held a few inches above his outstretched palm next to him, is pooled again at the base of his rapier to form the Rod. A moment is taken to notice Lezard is gone.      Damnit. He should've suspected that a wizard was untrustworthy. After all, he, too, is a wizard. He should know.      He focuses on his casting, taking small steps as he unleash out a large fireball headed at Amon's way, take a small stepping hop to the side, spinning his Rapier Staff to unleash out a large stone, ripped from the.. very metal ground, also aimed at Amon. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's blade is turned aside by a glittering forcefield. Not a big surprise. *FOOOM* She hunkers down to defend herself from his response. Flame divides around her shield, the heat licking at the edges of her armour with unpleasant eagerness, but the magic fire finds no purchase. When it clears, Alruna straightens up and exhales, bearing down on Amon at a steady pace. "I've never met a man I cared for who let monsters roam in their cellar." she says glibly, channeling her energy into her weapon to slash again at the shield protecting Amon. She can enervate it or simply break it down with enough strength, either will accomplish the purpose of giving her allies the opening they need. She ducks back out of the way as the next salvo of fire and lightning answers Amon in kind, and then charges forwards again with her shield forward, slamming it against his defences. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' A barrier appears, and a fire blasts out. If Lezard hadn't warned Guzma he was doing something, Guzma would be shocked at him disappearing. The three Team Skull Grunts join him, as they throw out their pokeballs, releasing Zubat, Garbodor, and Salandit, the bat, garbage bag, and lizard pokemon. "Group attack!" Tupp shouts out, as the three call out "Venoshock!" Guzma, meanwhile, shouts. "Thunder Cannon." Purple poison blasts at Amon, as the Vikavolt charges lightning between its mandibles, and fires a massive streaking ray of lightning straight at Amon. As this happens, the poison seeping in hopefully into Amon, Lezard gets to work. Guzma eyes his 'allies', and makes sure they don't get in any attacks on him out of anger, too. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The good news is they have been able to get Amon's attention. The bad news is Lezard has checked so out it's silly what is he up to? She has no idea other than he has to have a plan. Lezard isn't just one to show up, bail and do nothing. She can't worry about that now as for a brief moment she's now /set/ on both lighting and fire. Her avatar doesn't look too hot all things. She's looking a bit odd there's horrible red lines where the lighting got her and a wireframe nature in the wound as well. On Tomoe's HUD her HP bar drops not into the yellow but a bit chunk of the green is already gone. "I am Tomoe The Lily. I will note that this tower contains all the Allagans who still live." She keeps on the move now and she will turn up the heat herself and she might do something which could be unexpected to all the locals save N'raha. She chants golden runes dance about her body as she does to and then there's an explosion of fire right back at Amon and Tomoe follows that up with trying to press the attack with her blade. "You ain't the only one who can sling fire about!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Don't think he's not spotting these sorts of things, Lezard. Your absence is noted, and then there's a rather... smug smile on Amon's face as he starts to step into the other attacks. "Hmmmmm, did you all know that we made these little creatures?" He states this as Raha SLAMS his ax into Amon's side, forcing the engineer to side step and raise yet another barrier and keep his attention, at least partially, on the catman.     He also doesn't elaborate.     He does, however, start to dance around the 'stage' as it were, seemingly... stepping deliberately into attacks. The swords from Alruna and Tomoe SMASH into his cape, blistering him with energy and force. Amelris' twinned spells spatter across his chest and arm, staggering him to the side, and causing him to miss a step. Toxins from the Pokemon start to seep into his body, staining his lovely, gorgeous outfit...     At least for a second or two. Then once again the man is straightening up, and turns to focus his attention on Alruna and N'raha. "...En guarde." And he reels back, and SLASHES at the pair of them, his sword suddenly crackling with radiant, hideous energy.     The rest of the crew will suddenly find themselves under... well, less attack but rather Pestering by oozes and critters that start to burble up and out of vents in the floor. Slimes and puddings and other disgusting things that seek to ooze and restrict and distract as the Engineer moves to dismantle the party's two tanks. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The toxins and lightning slam and stain and poison, as Vikavolt pulls back. Slimes move in, oozing at them and distracting, getting their ickiness on Guzma and his team. Vikavolt rams into them to try and cut into them, but they're not going to end there. Zubat is sent down to bite into the slimes, as Vikavolt pulls back... "Poison Jab." Guzma smiles a toothy grin, and Vikavolt's mandibles glow violet with energy, as it moves to /ram/ Amon, trying to poison him further, weaken his endurance, and set him off guard with a strong strike. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' "I figured most of the creatures in the tower were made, or tamed by the Allagans yes. I must ask is what I presume the sewage system on the lowest level supposed to be filled with undead and demons?" Tomoe has seen some crazy things in her time but for some reason that just got under her skin. She seldom got to ask the people behind whatever ruin or dungeon she was crawling about just why there was something like this. She had to ask even if she doesn't get an answer also the next attack is quite swarmed by various horrible things from the lab. % She sees Alruna get the worst of the attention. She keeps tabs on Guzma, his minions Amelris, N'Raha and wonders just what Lezard is plotting. She got to deal with poison and lighting it's not very much fun and the slimes, on the other hand, will have to deal with her as she moves in to cut them down as fas as she can. "I'll handle the adds." She calls out to Alrun as she hacks slashed and throws the odd light spell into the mix of her attacks. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "No!" Amelris exclaims, Blade and Gem separating and returning into a fencer's stance, sword pointed outward and palm up, behind him. "I did NOT know that you made all of these little poor creatures! I just figured it out BY MYSELF because I have a brain! /Why would you/ is the better question!?"      The Red Mage launches himself like an arrow against one side of the 'barriered' fight, spinning his blade to return it into it's casting position and pointing a hand at a bunch of the Oozes. That's the issue when things starts ganging up on you. SOMEONE have to clean the mess up and that's usually him. N'Raha and Alruna have enough on their plate as it is already!      He twirl his blade with one hand, black energies gathering by the gem as he fling out a large ball of multi-colored energy, which explodes on impact in a calculated, beautiful octogonal shape. It is aimed at the swarm of goop and oozes, Amelris making apparently a VERY good job at staying out of their hungry, dissolving ways. Amelris deftly hops back, throwing his combined weapon up and snatching it out of the air, throwing one hand out in a flourish to unleash another explosion, this time trying to get Amon into the midst of it.      "By the way, are the feathers of that hat also from a creature you created?" 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna circles, following Amon's movement as he dances through the chamber to keep the pressure on him. "Hey, where did-" she wonders aloud belatedly, realising the headcount isn't the same as it was when they first stepped onto the elevator. Unfortunately for the tank, there are much more pressing issues she needs to deal with. The way Amon poses, half a heartbeat before his weapon crackles with deathly energy... "Look out!" Her instincts kick in, a wave of aether enveloping herself and N'raha to form a barrier that at least spares them /some/ of the brunt of whatever wicked sorcery Amon is empowering his sword with. It still rips a cry of pain out of her as Amon carves through her shield and deflects down her breastplate, driving its tip into her side. There and gone in an instant. Tendrils of unhealthy energy seep into her, lodging themselves in her body and drawing another pained, unwilling whimper. Behind her visor, Alruna's face is drawn in a rictus of pain - her glove creaks as she clenches her sword tighter. She responds in kind, a black cloud of aether lined with dancing purple radiance engulfing her sword, which she plunges into Amon's barrier, driving it forward with adrenaline and pain behind the thrust. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Hmmmmm, we made... so many things, little courl~" The words are like venom from Amon as he sneers down at Amelris, even as the Red Mage and his allies start to strike down the assorted goops and globs and oozes. They're doing their best, but clearly that's not enough. That's not to say they're not giving back though. Each little goop exploes, casting awful mess around, slobbering on most of the party as they do damage control, seeping with toxins and garbage as Amelris blasts, as Tomoe slashes.     Guzma, N'raha and Alruna seem to have the right of things though, as they all step in and make their moves against Amon directly. That Ram-Tackle-Poison from Guzma just gets another dose of Nasty in Amon's veins, but... a smile. "Oh, how the technicians will ENJOY peeling that beast apart and seeing how it ticks, mark my words, little man."     Alruna and Raha though, make a very pointed reminder to Amon that they are Still Here. Raha steps in with an angry snarl, a wave of distracting energy blasting across the arena, and Alruna's sweeping blade both dragging his attention to the forefront. "BOTHERSOME CREATURES."     Amon twirls in place, stabs his sword into the decking in a rather grotesquely similar manner to Amelris' casting techniques, and then chilling cold starts to form across the room, and... giant balls of frozen aether SLAM into the arena. Let's hope the party knows how to stay out of the bad. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' "Go stuff yourself." Guzma says, to Amon, as the giant balls of frozen aether slam in. The trainers start running, Guzma's eyes widening, as Vikavolt is slammed by the giant frozen ball and sent flying back. Ice is not good for bugs. But it still flies, even though it's chillier and hurt, one wing limping slightly, and it tries to jam those mandibles into Amon again, taking a big bite out of him! 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's fingers are numbed, her limbs sapped of warmth by Amon's Blizzaga. The worst part? It does nothing to numb the pain of the seeping wound in her side. Shuddering, she raises her shield to protect herself from the jagged iceberg about to descend, driven to one knee by the impact. Ice crashes over her shield, and her helm too, biting in ways that the fire did not, encasing her in a wintery grip. Sorry, she stood in the bad. They're all suffering, but she can see Amelris and Guzma preparing... pulling herself onto her feet again, Alruna lets out a warcry and hopes N'raha sees their cue too, telegraphing her movements from half a realm away as she lunges at Amon, delivering a back-handed slam with her shield to distract him one more time. She can be very bothersome indeed! 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      In many ways, that is just insulting!      "That's not answering the question!" Amelris snaps back, pulling his sword back into a defensive measure, lifting his caped arm as he takes a step back, trying to give himself some defense against the explosion of frozen Aether. It has ... limited effect. The Bad has been stepped on to be certain but that is difficult to avoid when Most Of Everything You Stand ON IS the 'bad'.      This results in the Miqo'te having something of a frozen problem, boots freezing, ice biting at his skin and stiffening his fur.      His ears wiggles on the sound he ears. Problems are coming up. This fight is becoming a waste of time, then.      "Alright then," Amelris mutters beneath his breath, taking a step forward, breaking the crystaline ice that accumulated on him. "You are quickly becoming a bore, Amon! Let us show you how we do things in this Astral Era!" The Red Mage shouts, spinning his weapon as he thrusts it up in the air.      The ground shakes beneath him, energy spilling out from beneath him and gathering up into his weapon. His hair jerks around by the unseen winds of aether being concentrated and gathered around them, particularly from Alruna and N'Raha as he concentrate it into visible energy in his weapon.      "FROM THE REACHES OF THE SKIES, REACH FOR A WISH UPON A COMET!"      Amelris spins his glowing weapon left and right, then slams it into the ground in a NOT grotesque mockerie of his arts, as if to show Amon how it is actually done. "I HAVE A WISH! THIS WISH IS ... STARFALL!"      Out of nowhere, above Amon, thick, massive balls of flame of rocks comes plummeting down. They explode in massive explosions, focused on the tall Engineer, pelting him a rapid fire barrage of projectiles, fueled by the combined aether gathered in the fight by people assembled here. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Amsons' creation proved to be a fairly troublesome thing but Tomoe hacks away at the problem. Hopefully, this will lead to her allies have a far less bad time in dealing with Amon. She listens as he talks about carving up Pokemon she frowns and then she looks right at him as he launches an ice spell of some sort at her. One she's cold it's so cold She's having trouble moving for a moment. She does however not stay hindered for long, she curses about how she stood in the ice. , In turn, she's dashes at Amon aiming to slam into him with her shield then launches into a Sword Art. "EARTH SPLITTER" Her blade gains a golden glow and she launches a single powerful leaping strike trying to slice all the way up Amon. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Each one of those balls of ice starts to slam into the decking, leaving a massive hulking block of frost in the field, hampering movement and making dashing around a rather dicey process. Amon is seemingly... dancing now. Sure footed and fleet, even as he crashes into attacks, bashes against the party. There's even a very PLEASED look as he briefly vanishes inside of Amelris' Limit Break, the Starfall getting, apparently, rave reviews...     His aether barrier is fading, even as his cloak and his sword glow brighter and brighter. He's been steadily gathering energy, not just from his surroundings, but also the attacks he's been receiving, gladly receiving. "All that matters, little mice, is that my Master returns, and now..." He quirks his head. "If I do not accomplish that plan, it sounds like someone else will. You ought to all have... kept a closer eye on things."     A sniff, and Amon adjusts his hat. "No matter. It won't matter to you lot. This is where the show ends, sadly. And you along with it. Take a bow, everyone, it will be your last!"     And with an exhalation of exultant breath, he whips the sword around him in a flourish and a wave of... frankly unwholesome Void energy washes over the entire room, smashing aside the carefully crafted barrier and smashing at everyone in the room.     I mean, unless they managed to get behind a chunk of ice. But who's ever seen THAT mechanic before? 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' A blast of void energy smashes through the room, destroying the barrier. It slams straight into Vikavolt, Guzma, and the trainers, sending them all flying backwards, burning up and groaning in pain. Guzma's hurt, and so is Vikavolt, but... They're still standing, just /barely/! "Vikavolt! X-Scissor!" Vikavolt flies straight at Amon, and opens its mandibles wide, before slicing them in an x-shape around him. Two x-cuts, moving to try and slice him up and defeat him at all costs. Guzma needs to stay conscious, if he's gonna help Lezard! 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      The Starfall is not as effective as it might've been. That's just the life of a Limitbreak, however. Sometimes, it just sputters and farts into not fulfilling the hype.      Amelris' eyes widens out at the sight of the breath, all that aether and void energy just spilling out like this. A quick glance looks around, finding a block of ice. The Starfall put a lot out of him but there's some fight left in him at this point.      "GET BEHIND SOMETHING!" Amelris shouts, gathering his weapons out as he leaps out in the air, backflipping off a few feet to land squarely behind the ice block that was so nicely provided by Amon. He'll never understand that sort of things from people like that but he's not going to complain at this point.      As soon as the explosion finishes, the void rages is over from the barrier, Amelris immiediatedly dashes out from behind like a balistic missile at Amon, rapier first to ram it down into his knee.      "No, I paid attention." Amelris snaps, gritting his teeth. "Oh look, an EVIL WIZARD is stabbing us in the bleedin' back. WHO COULD HAVE FORSEEN THIS DEVELOPMENT COMING!?"      Amelris then flows into a wider movement, spinning his blade up into a wide arc, then ramming it repeatedly into a flurry of thrusts, each impacts exploding into a tiny burst of energy as his sword is charged up with magic, balance of White and Black aether cancelling each other out. "So shut up!"      Stab Stab Stab, slice, stab slice.      "AND GIVE ME YOUR DAMN HAT!"      The last thrust will be, in fact, aimed upward at said hat. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's armour clinks and grates, annoyingly clingy ice shattering off it repeatedly as she takes a step back. That is a /considerable/ amount of void energy now. "Fury take me..." she mutters under her breath. She makes a break for one of said mounds of ice, turning around at the last moment to brace her shield with both arms against it. The ice shatters under the shockwave, leaving Alruna sliding back on the slush underfoot as void energy tears at her body. Panting, Alruna draws her sword and tries to tackle Amon from a different side to Amelris, a black, dark fear growing in her chest as she realises what about this scenario seems much, much too familiar to her. The last time she fought someone raving about awakening their master... the Seventh Umbral Calamity happened. Aether rolls down her blade as she attacks Amon with a flurry of slashes, that cold chill down her spine not born of ice spells anymore. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Amon is proving to be one heck of a foe here. Tomoe is tough she's very well known for just what a beating she can take. Tomoe makes for a chunk of ice, she's just too far out to make it in time. Well, she partially does but her lower half is caught int he flames and it is bad. Her lower body is now a mess of angry red wireframes. Her HP bar on her HUD is in the red, she's in a good deal of pain too. She struggles to her feet and takes the Dawn Breaker in both hands and she lunges for Amon trying to put him down. "This is not my final bow, not here not YET!" She musters all the strength she has left and launches herself at Amon, it's a fairly big gamble but it's the best plan she has, for she can't see running away. To be anything more than a you die tired, sort of situation. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And then for all the noise? All the... pomp, the rage, the circumstance? Amon can do little to stop what's coming. His energy expended, the attacks slice him to ribbons, blow by blow until-     Wait, no, he really IS ribbons. Like, his body's gone, and all that's left are his clothes and garments, shredded and torn and raggedy, like they were never that much in the first place. The lights in the room all dim for a moment or two, and then flick over as power cycles in the control chamber.     Amon is gone, and the elevator starts to cycle again, as lights flick over from that garish, awful cyan to something softer, a warm, alarming red, instead. Great, just great.     The radio crackles too, as Raha digs himself out from behind one of the now crushed ice blocks. "Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit." He's already staggering up to his feet, limping, his tail lifeless halfway down its length. He's running for the Elevator, trying to intercept it before... well. Someone's coming. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "Who... who is your master?" The question comes at the end of a shaking swordpoint. Alruna pulls up her visor, staring down balefully at Amon's...remains, or his puppet, or whatever it was they just fought. She seems hung up on this, barely acknowledging that something else is happening as she stares in shock at the rags left behind by Amon. She looks up, around, helplessly at the control room. "Who is your master!?" she demands, too late to receive an answer, it seems. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      That was actually somewhat surprising, cutting a thing to ribbons like that and only leaving their clothes.      With a flourish at looking at the garnments, Amelris flips the hat up into the air, snatch it out and hurriedly make it vanish in a puff of aether. The only thing worthy here.      "Alruna!" Amelris calls, sheathing his rapier to shake her by the shoulder. "We'll find out later! Come on!" He looks at Guzma and Tomoe, nodding at them. "Let's back N'raha up. WHO KNEW, a wizard might've very well have done something wizardly!"      Amelris then dashes after the other Miqo'te, hand on his hat as he dives after. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     As the barrier fails, there is another occurrence.     A teleportation circle, the same kind as those that Lezard uses, draws itself on the platform that they had used to ascend. The person who is meant to use it, knows it's going to happen.     Raha is running for the elevator too. Guzma might want to Goomba Stomp the catman or something on his way to the port, but a voice begins echoing through the Labyrinth.     "Yes, that is right. Do as I say and I will allow you to keep your life. I need your /eye/, it need not be attached to the rest of you. Do not try me."     A pause, then Lezard's voice echoes again. "Ah, excellent. Thank you all for providing this wonderous distraction from my normal investigations. This place holds a great deal of promise. So much so, that I have decided to take it for my own. Pursurant to this, I have claimed the cat that holds the key. If you do not interfere, I may even return him intact. Still, there is much to research. It seems that your foe had managed to set some systems into motion, systems that herald that Master he speaks of. Ah well. It seems that I will have to select... Regicide." 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' As the man falls, Guzma isn't thinking about him. He doesn't care about Amon, or his puppet, or whatever. Lezard has a plan. It's time to move. But N'raha is faster. Way faster than the humans in Team Skull. So, as Guzma and Team Skull start running for the elevator, Vikavolt charges in for N'raha's heel, moving to bite them and slow him down just long enough for Guzma to get to the teleportation circle, return Vikavolt to its Pokeball... "See you around, losers! Concord rules!" And, hopefully, vanish with the circle. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha can do plenty to stop Guzma. He can't do a damn thing to stop Vikavolt and that strike, his already injured body getting tossed off balance and slammed into a console as he's tripped and tackled and... and he skids to a crumpled heap. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Several things of note, Guzma who started out a just being full of it when they first me had moved from component to downright a bad idea to ever fight alone in Tomoe's head. Next, she sees that for some strange reason Amon's body gone. "Wait what the HELL HERE?!" She's not sure he's dead and gone and she sighs for a moment. "I have a horrible feeling we are about to find out." Then something worse comes up, Lezard was up to something and there was nothing she could go at this point she struggles to get moving but is far too late. She curses violently at this but she's too beat up, and worn down to even think about trying to stop Guzma. Let alone a fully healthy and ready to rumble Lezard and next off there's a damn hostage. She will try to head to Alruna who seems pretty bad off as well. "We're in no condition to stay here, we need to get out now. I am not going to lose any party members here." There's an intense edge to her voice like she has failed to do so once and it's haunted her ever since. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's head jerks at the sound of her name. A different voice, but it still manages to pull her back to the here and now. "Not again, please..." she whispers, turning to follow the others sprinting back towards the elevator. She's lagging far too much to do anything about Guzma. She comes to a stop next to N'raha, checking the Miqo'te over. "N'raha, not now- this is no time to be sleeping!" She slaps her hand on his chest, channeling healing energy into the cat's body. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      This is rather displeasing to Amelris, sort to say. He didn't get to really know the other lad but this sort of turning, especially since he's seen it coming, do give him a sort of vile satisfaction to his pessimistic side, making the Red Mage scowl.      The Miqo'te spins his rapier, throwing into a dash. He zooms past Alruna and N'raha, his body becoming something of a straight, deadly blurr as he homes right straight to Guzma's back, his rapier sticking out, damn ready to impale him straight on the spine...!      Except he misses, narrowingly, the blade digging into the side and barely making a slice through his clothing as the Red Mage dashes right past him. He's NOT going on that teleporter. He certainly don't want to be alone on whatever the other side of that is.      What he WILL do, however, as he dash past, during that 'failed strike', is stick a linkpearl firmly into his clothing, making it stick into a pocket.      "SHITE!" he shouts out, clearly 'annoyed' at his missing strike 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The blade slices into Guzma's jacket and shirt, ripping a hole into the shirt and causing him to mutter light profanities, but Guzma makes it away unscathed, teleporting away. Except for the linkpearl he's unaware of, of course. That might be a little problematic, depending on how it's used. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Guzma vanishes in a flash of light, the teleportation circle disappearing along with it as the intended recipient reaches it. Guzma is safe, Lezard choosing to not leave him hanging around a bunch of angry Watch members.     However, the linkpearl allows them to start listening in to what comes next.     "I knew you could triumph, Guzma. Well done." Lezard's voice echoes over the pearl. "Rest well, we have much to do and little time to do it in. The heroes will undoubtedly push ahead after the humiliation of having their prize stolen from them. We have two major goals at this point."     There are some beeping noises, and then some tapping. "This entire tower is full of homunculus chambers. One of them appears to be in the process of awakening the so-called Emperor of the Allagan Empire. We will have to be sure to interrupt that to prevent him from using his own authority over these machines. The other matter is dealing with this pitiable fool."     The 'pitiable fool' snarls but weakly enough. Whatever hocus pocus Lezard's put him under, it's a doozy, because the words are groggy and slurred. "That's th-the problem with us adventurers, isn't it? N-Never know h- wh-what to expect." A spit. The prisoner-cat seems to have decided against 'I"m not helping you' or 'you'll have to kill me first'. He's smart about that, at least. He's a little bit out of place to be refusing demands. Smart.     "I require time to analyze his gift and determine how best to acquire it for myself. But we have equally problematic issues, among which that we do not know which path the heroes will take to attempt to recover their so-called claim on their prize." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     At least they have another ally here, right? Right?     Because it's Nero's voice that rattles over the speakers. Not nearly as crisply as Lezard's voice though. Nero's missing a critical part of the puzzle, now. "Best one, huh? Just for that I ought to just leave you up there." A moment or two later, Nero himself appears on the elevator as it cycles back up to the Control Room floor. He's looking just a smidge worse for wear. He's bruised, his sunglasses are missing, and he's actually carrying the heavy gear. "Step aside, I've got to undo this damage. How did you let him just... get away from you like that?" He steps right past Alruna where she's bent over getting Raha back up to his feet, and past Amelris, and over to the nearest console he can find, dropping the case down and starting to connect wires to it. "He's gone, by the way. At least, he's out of the Labyrinth. He vanished with the idio-"     There's a very real and very angry noise that suddenly rattles in Raha's armor right about at that point, and Nero's words trail off.     "...The adventurer... and he's up... somewhere. He got access to the upper reaches through a teleportation network that... I've..." He's mashing buttons on the console.     "That I'm WORKING on getting. It will just take some time." A look to Amelris. "That I will hurry on."     Gosh, why DO Amelris and N'raha make Nero so anxious? 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Amelris, his little sleight of hand done, stops moving and immediatedly takes out another linkpearl, placing it up into his other ear, frowning with his tail annoyedly twitching, swaying behind him. "Come on you bastard, keep talking, keeeeeeep talking..."      He looks up, stepping away to watch Nero step off, waving off a gloved hand at him. "Don't take it personal. Just had to keep him yappin' and that seemed like a great thing to say at the time--yeeeeeeeeeeees!"      Amelris moves up back to N'raha and Alruna, grinning from cheek to cheek. Oh yes, now this is a very happy and proud cat of the switcheroo he just pulled.      "I have good news and bad news." Amelris smiles at Nero, taking full advantage of the nervousness. "The good news, the adventurer is still alive. The bad news, the warlock -- who's a damn coward, by the way, he didn't even fight with us to decently stab us in the back -- is going to study his power.      A pause.      "The other bad news is that a homonculus of the old Emperor of Allag is waking up in some homunculus chamber." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna looks pale, scraping the bottom of the barrel for the energy to continue healing N'raha. Eventually, her hand drops away from his chest. "Come, N'raha. On your feet." she says, her knees heroically not wobbling as she stands up, lifting N'raha with her. She glances back and forth between Amelris and Nero. "Bold choice of words for the man who /let/ that wizard take our associate." she says, glaring daggers at Nero until Amelris cuts in with something helpful. "Can you deactivate that?" she asks Nero, referring the the Emperor's chamber. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha wobbles back up on his feet with Alruna's help, the effort honestly draining. He's pushed pretty hard tonight and, well. Making noises at Nero's about all he's got left. "Yeah just... shut the whole place down, let's do that, I like that plan, this place is a trash heap."     Nero waves vaguely at Raha like his voice annoys him, which it probably does. "I would LOVE to stop the nice Warlock from summoning the man who caused the..." He does the mental calculations. "The 3rd AND the 4th Calamities." He sighs, and then rattles the Ironworks... whatever it is. "As it stands, without G'raha, we're spinning our gears on anything other than..."     More frowning at the consoles. "I can track him. Lezard. I can get you access to the network. I can't access any of the major functions otherwise." A pointed look to Alruna. "For the record, you haven't attempted to beat me up yet, so I will listen to you first and not these two... savages." He waves a hand at N'raha and Amelris. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "Good, lets hope that lasts." Alruna says bluntly, still supporting N'raha. She considers his answer for a few seconds. "Then we need to find the Emperor and make sure he doesn't take control, directly. I care little for the prospect of facing the true master of this Tower, over one trying to imitate him." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is hanging back at this point trying to recover and she'll look to Nero as he talks. She seems pained and tired and she's cursing herself for thinking maybe just maybe Lezard wouldn't pull something. "Sounds like a plan keeps tracking him and inform us if anything major comes online." She looks to Nero for a moment sizing him up. "Sounds like going after the Emperor is a good bet. Though it's likely Lezard might be happy with that." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "That's a sound plan." Amelris comments, still keeping a hand over one of his ears, listening in on the new noises. His ear flickers, almost rythmically at this point. "My suggestion would be to attack Lezard while he will, himself, attack the Emperor. He don't want the Emperor active as long he don't have the means of control the tower, so he's limited on time just as much as we are."      Amelris eyes Nero, grinning at him. "G'raha is safe as long Lizard don't figure it out too fast and until the Emperor awakens. And as long he don't try to do something stupid, but he didn't sound inclined to do that when I heard him." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Nero smiles cheerily at Alruna. "See? A good working relationship already!" He sighs, and then gets to work, looking through files and then... "Maps maps maps where's... MAPS. AH." He slides a control and then... a map. It's labeled Syrcus Tower. "Right, I can get you..." He fiddles with controls. The map expands to show a large chamber with tubes and more tubes. "Cloning Vats, looks like. I'll have to rig up the teleporters though." A point. "You'd get one shot without G'raha so make it count." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Sounds like," Amelris says, energetically as a burst of aether comes out on his hand, where Amon's large feathered hat appears. "A very good bet to take, then! I'll take them odds!"      Amelris spins the hat, then place it on his head, above his other hat.      He frowns, his tail dissapprovingly snapping behind him.      "Bleh. Even gaudier than I expected." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna gives Tomoe a wintery smile. "I cannot say working towards my enemies' goals doesn't leave a bitter taste in my mouth, but nonetheless, it serves us too." She nods and turns to Amelris as Nero gives them their option. "Regardless of Lezard's presence or lack, we have little and less time the longer we dally." 
}}

7081/GATE: The Deep Minds of Mahjong

2022-12-22T20:36:39Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/02/13 |Location=The Gold Saucer, Eorzea |Synopsis=Amelris, Raha and Majima take part in degenerate Mahjong gambling |Cast of Characters=819, 7..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/02/13
|Location=The Gold Saucer, Eorzea
|Synopsis=Amelris, Raha and Majima take part in degenerate Mahjong gambling
|Cast of Characters=819, 7055, 7180
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Manderville Gold Saucer is not really all that busy on a weekday afternoon, but that doesn't mean people aren't here and milling about. Though, there's at least one larger crowd in the main hub of the Saucer. Over in the Mahjong corner, a small crowd has gathered up to watch a rather fascinating spectacle.     An offworlder has been running the boards off and on today. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     "Riichii! Neeeehahahah!" Majima has been playing this game for actual decades. Usually in smoky, illegal, underground places, where games tend to end in large brawls. Of course, sometimes you go to the legal clubs, where you're just amassing a bunch of theoretical points in order to obtain cool prizes. The point is, this is his game. And his 'rank', according to the Gold Saucer, means he's up against people who just learned about the game a week ago from the Doman immigrant. He doesn't even actually stand out that much in the crowd of adventurers playing, in his outfit. "Aiyyaaaah. Where's the drink service in this place, eh?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And it's one of those adventurers that's shuffling over to check out the commotion. One N'raha Tia, making his way over from the prize redemption counter carrying a stack of wrapped Triple Triad Cards.     The Catman's looking a little worse for wear today, after delving into the depths of a living hell prison for an actual Elder Primal corpse dungeon. But that's besides the point. Today is a relaxation day, and also... "Hoy, Majima. How's it going?" He lifts an arm, and... well. There's more than a few grumpy faces in the crowd as the table clears out following that obliteration by Mister Majima. "...I see." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Majima leans back in his chair. He's tipping it. He's a chair-tipper. The next game hasn't started yet, so he has time to put his feet up on the table. He's an obnoxious git, sometimes. "Eh? Oh, N'raha, ya play tiles?" He asks, tilting his head. "Ya didn't strike me as the type. Somethin' bout the big-ass axe, ya know?" He cranes his head around to look more properly--first, it seems, as if he's looking towards the Warrior, but then-- "Hey, bunnygirl! What's it take ta get some of those...ah, fuck, Coerthan Frozen Spirits, eh? Ain't that's what's popular round here?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There is in fact a bunny girl. And it's not even one of the ones wearing fake ears. The Viera lady blinks a bit, looks at Goro, and then shrugs, saying something in Golmorran as she shuffles off with her tray.     The catman yanks over a spare chair, being just as rude as Majima in that respect, but the Masters tables aren't being used at this time of day, anyway. "Ah! No, not the tiles, I'm trying to pull some decent Triple Triad Cards for tomorrow's little tournament. That I didn't tell Seifer about, because he'll just yell about it." The catman settles in, adjusts the tie on his little suitcoat, and then starts to unwrap the cards. "Also going to be getting gifts for my lady friend."     The Viera lady slides back over with a frosty fruity girly drink for Majima, as requested. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Amelris Belthrone likes the Goldensaucer. It probably helps that he DID make a prize or two here. Gambling's all fine and good when you're not working with actual money to worry about losing.      However, the conversation on MAHJONG have piqued his interest. He's always meant to give it a look and a try but always managed to get distracted away from it. Today, is the day this changes. The commotion there helps on that front.      "Well hello there!" The Red Mag, wearing his usual outfit, steps up to the table. "So this is the infamous MAH-JOHNG, then, is it?" 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Majima does not normally use this ash tray for smoking in, but it seems like a good time. He pulls it out, along with a pack of cigarettes. One is lit, as he takes his drink. "Ah, that shit. I got a little bit inta it, but I ain't got the time for /every/ rabbit hole. Fuck if I get how Seifie does, eh? Works harder'n even I do." There's a sip of his drink. Yeah. This is absolutely a fruity girl drink. Made out of fig and banana. What the fuck, Eorzea. What the fuck even are you. And then there's a second adventurer suddenly there. Majima takes a puff of his smoke, tapping it out on the ash tray for a moment. "...Yeah. 'round here it comes from that Doma place, eh? But, ya know. I was playin' this shit back when I had two eyes." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The viera rolls her eyes at 'rabbit hole' on her way away from the table. Also none of the newbies seems to be stepping back up to play Majima just yet. A pity.     Amelris gets a wave, as Raha settles in with the slow and methodical practice of pulling cards from packs, and grumbling about commons. "I do this because I collect the damn things, for some godawful reason. I'm garbage at playing it but I like the collecting part." A shrug, and he looks around at the thinning crowd. "I can tell you've been playing this forever, I think you've scared everyone off. Good work." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Amelris returns the wave and an apologetical smile at the Viera, before he turns over to the table to take himself a chair to sit down.      "Yeah, when I arrived, the place looked pretty cleanly split between this table and the rest of the area. Like this place is on a quarantine or something." Belthrone says, taking off his hat and placing it on his lap, letting his feline ears breath a little with some wriggle. "Yes, the Doman Refugee brought this game along with them. I take it it's similar enough to your own version, then?" 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     There's a long drag on his cigarette. Majima lets the smoke out slowly, looking between the two. "It's identical. There's a few rules more common in Kamurocho, few rules more common here, but same thing. That's just how this shit works, eh?" He reclines again. Has another drink. "There's a reason first thing I did when this whole 'unification' thing happened to me was hit up as many Japans as I could.' 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha sighs a bit at 'unification'. "I really didn't get the chance to do that myself. Get out of Eorzea. Well."     He makes another face as he pulls a Moogle. Dammit. "I ought to have done so, but there was just a LOT of garbage happening here. And when you're..." He looks over at Amelris. "When you're one of a few people who chan handle certain problems, you just sort of end up being dragged around to solve those problems."     A grim smile. "And then you become the bad kind of 'indispensible'. The kind that can't leverage that out of duty." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Mmmn, that's interesting. I wonder how that came to be. There must not be a lot of games where you can say it's 100% the same even accross different worlds that had no relations with one another before." Amelris muses, leaning back against his chair to get a bit more comfortable. Thanks you, Mr. Manderville for making chairs that are comfortable for people with tails.      The Red Mage returns the glance over at N'raha, lifting an eyebrow at his comments. "Well, now you ought to. Lots to see, lots of people to talk to and lots of stuff to drink. The Alliance can handle itself on many things. They HAVE been telling us to take a bleeding break now and then. They've got our Linkshell, you know?"      He straightens on his seat. "So! I'm here to test this game out." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     "Heh. I know whatcha mean. Maybe not in the same /sense/, but someday the Omi Alliance is gonna come down, and.." He leans forward, looking oddly serious for a minute. "Sure, I'll bring the Concord down on 'em like a bag of hammers, but I ain't sure they won't drag in their own Elites, ya know? It's gonna be a real shitshow someday. That's why I'm gettin' all of this shit," He waves his hands around. "Outta the way -now-. Who knows? Maybe it'll be you two fightin' longside that pant-stealin' asshole someday. Heh." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha lets out a snort, as he shuffles around to move out of the way for Amelris, so that he can actually sit down at the Newbie Table. "You know he's going to only give you one game before he kicks your ass, right?"     He also waves down a Drinks Bunny to get himself a gin fizz. "...Also, Amelris, I need to talk to you about uh... other stuff when you get done here." A glance to Majima. "Scions stuff." No apologetic look on that one. Work stuff is work stuff, and he's not talking work at the table. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Amelris gets up then sits down at the Newbie Table. "Hell yeah I do. That's how you learn a game, man. You watch the people that kickass and then you butt heads with them." Also voraciously read the scrolls and books that's on the subject but he's not going to vocalize that one outloud.      He waves at the drink Bunny for a drink himself as he sits down, getting comfortable. "Yeah. I figured. Just poke me when we're both out. No problem." He answers. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima shakes his head slowly. "This isn't a game you quite learn like that, eh? I like ya style, though. This is the kinda shit ya need ta...voraciously read up on, ya know? And that's me sayin' that." N'raha's insistence that Majima not hear of 'scion talk' gets a proper cackle. "Neeehehehahaha! I think I know what the fuck ya on about, yeah. I ain't hurt." He slams back the rest of his drink, letting out a contented sigh. "I hear the Antecedent ain't half-bad lookin', though." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     With an absolutely straight face, N'raha looks stright at Majima.     "Would you like her linkpearl address? You could talk with her all you want." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' Amelris lifts an eyebrow at Majima, then gives him a shrug. "Hey, I'll take your word for it. I'll look up for some books, then." More books, Amelris adds internally.      The conversation shifts, the Red Mage taking his drink -- it seems like something fizzy, too. Orangy, at that, looking up.      "She's pretty cute." Belthrone admits, sipping his drink. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima raises his brow, as N'raha literally offers the equivalent of her phone number. "Nehehehehaaa! That's a fuckin' trap if I ever saw it. Nah, I'm just sayin' for sayin's sakes. Come on. Ya want me drinkin' up in your fuckin' Scion Bar or whatever?" There's a dismissive hand wave, and at some point he got another drink. "Used ta do this for money, back when I was buildin' up the cabaret clubs in the eighties. Tell ya, it's a lot more interestin' with real money on the line, but this ain't bad." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha siiiiiiiiips at his gin fizz. "I'm just saying, she likes to talk to people. She's a people person. Very outgoing and very talkative." He shifts a bit though, and then tosses a handfull of MGP over on Amelris' pile for GAME MONEY PLAY TIME. "I think you might need it."     "I'm still not sure what this place runs on, other than like... there's got to be a catch. If it's not the actual tokens and stuff, there's something else." A frown, and he looks at one of the dancing Senor Sabotenders over in a corner, dancin' up a storm for a crowd of little rugrats. "It's not the games, that's for sure." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "You don't say?" Amelris comments, sipping on his drink. This shit is expensive. YOu don't just gulp it down like a godamn barbarian. You ENJOY that shit. The Red Mage snaps out the MGP out of the air, nodding. "Hey, I'll take your pity tokens." Belthrone grins, setting them down on the table to add them later.      "Honestly? I'm not sure how profitable it IS but Godbert Manderville is some sort of genie when it comes to gold. I'd imagine new people buying things, the services and the event it starts is what attracts the money and people spends it if they like things here. Have a good time, they'll want to stick it out longer."      He lifts his drink. "Besides, the man's some sort of Goldsmitthing god, I swear." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' "Neheh! I saw that guy, eh? Ya get a bead on someone like that. I betcha he's a real hoot in a fightin' ring, least from what I saw of 'im. He's got that -real- confidence. Kiryu kinda confidence, ya know?" Majima cracks his neck. "If I were gonna ask myself how this place makes money, though, I'd be lookin' at the cost of the food and the drinks. I'd be lookin' inta who's bettin' on the chocobo races, and what the deal is with those crates those big guys keepin' lugging around, as a starters." He has another drink. "But, ya know, what the shit do I know 'bout makin' money, eh?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha snorts at Majima about 'what do I know', as the tiles are dealt out to Majima and Amelris, sipping on his beverage. "Sure sure, and I just hit things with an ax." He sighs a bit, shoulders slumping a bit.     "I dunno. Mr. Manderville doesn't seem the type to be like... a crime boss, but you have to be somewhat on the take to run a place like this and not have everyone come running with their hands out for uh... taxes."     A beat. "...I need to get Inga something nice." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "He's got a seat on the Syndicate in Ul'dah, so, you know." Amelris says, waving a hand, checking at his tiles. "That's quite enough to show he's got the money and influence in circles to be ON there."      He drums his fingers on the table briefly, peering at the tiles. Okay. This is what this means. He's got this just fiiiine. "Get one of the plushes. I'm totally not speaking because I made a few of them and I'm advertising for myself." He says, blandly. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Majima looks thoughtful for a moment. He drums fingers on the table. "...Somethin' nice, eh? Arright." There's a slow, steady gaze towards the Warrior. "Arright. Pocket-watch, but ya want it ta open up into a locket that's got a picture of you and her on the inside, cause you'll 'always make time for her'." He says coolly, lighting up another cigarette. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The mice in Raha's head turn a bit as he considers both of those, and nods. "Right. I think i can handle those..." His face seems to be doing mental maths, as he considers.... yes. He knows people who can do both of those.     Another sip of his drink and then he leans over to watch play start. "And Red, I gave you my chips because I can assure you it'd be slower than me just handing them to Majima, which is all that would happen." A frown. "This game's got too much going on." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Oh, that's a good idea." Belthrone says, rolling his little straw in his drink to mix it up. "Small, nice and thoughtfull. That's the stuff."      The Red mage gives N'Raha a brief look, lifting an eyebrow. "I don't know. It don't seem too bad on the busyiness front." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     "Hm. Ya ever play poker?" Majima says, toying with some tiles in his hand. "It's basically poker, but ya draw a card, and ya discard a card, and the round ends when someone makes a winnin' hand," He explains. "And ya build your hand based on how the discard pile's looking." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "No, actually." Amelris says, tapping is fingers on some of the tiles. This do have a nice textile feeling to it. The ivory-like sensation is nice. "Sounds like something to try." 
}}

7093/The Time Between ft. the Warriors Of Light

2022-12-22T20:35:12Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/02/16 |Location=The Mist, Eorzea |Cast of Characters=819, 7175, 7180 |pretty=yes }} {{Poses |Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/02/16
|Location=The Mist, Eorzea
|Cast of Characters=819, 7175, 7180
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It is still winter in La Noscea, but the chill of the season, as always, as bouyed away by the warm waters off the coast of Vylbrand. And the Mist has its name cut out for itself today, as the Mist has rolled in over the entire housing district. Which means it's a little hard to be grilling outside.     Which means N'raha is grilling inside. The sizzle of meat and sausage and potatoes fills the house, and the Cat Warrior is making sure his friends have food to both heal off their injuries and also for Thinking and Talking.     "Right, so, I call this meeting of the Warriors of Light to order. First business, mead or wine?" 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "Wine." Alruna says immediately. She leans over, inhaling the scents happily before sitting back. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Wine." Amelris Belthrone, the Red Mage, wearing his usual outfit is a little stiffer than usual. He's still bandaged from the other day but at least, he's not lazying around on a couch all day. "Definetively wine."      He nibbles and munch on a bit of orange. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Drinks are poured, for everyone involved. And then Raha leaves the bottles on the table, as he settles in, plating up the fish and the beef and the veggies and everything. It's a pretty decent spread. There is also fruit, because Inga insists on these things.     Amelris has already found that.     "Okay. Alruna. Are you going to be okay? Do you need to talk after the other night?" A serious look at the Gladiator, as Raha starts on his meat and taters. He's not judging either. He's seen shit too. They all have. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna climbs over the furniture like a damn animal. somehow rolling over the chair back into a sitting position without slamming her feet on the table, though it looks like a near thing. She has a forkful of meat and popotoe halfway to her mouth before N'raha drops some Concern on her. She completes the motion, chewing quickly and giving herself some time to think. Gulp. "Yes, I think so. Yes." she says. She picks up her wineglass, hesitates, and puts it down again. "...no." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' Amelris is, for once, NOT the godamn animal by just sitting on top of the furniture. It's like this place have been proofed like that. He drinks his drinks, eat his meats and looks at Alruna. "No rush." The Red Mage adds. "It was a shock for every Eorzeans there." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha also settles in, popping a piece of roasted fish in his mouth and watching the thoughts go through Alruna's face. "You're in good company, yeah. Amelris and I... we weren't at Caretenau. You were. We just got to experience the rest of that afterwards." He sighs and gets comfy on the mismatched chair, and curls his tail against the wood.     He leaves it at that, and then listens. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna nods. "I would not diminish the struggle you all went through afterwards. It was..." She swirls the wine in her glass around, absently. "I don't think anyone who lived to see the day after will forget the sight." She goes back to eating, savouring the taste of N'raha's cooking. "The Scions must love having you about to cook." she says, smiling. "Sharlyan cooking, by all accounts, is duller than doing your letters." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' It's still something hard to fully cognize the fact of what she is suggesting that she is. "It's not really useful to compare miseries in that manner, anyway." Amelris comments, nodding, grinning. "Yeah, he's a better cook than most people here." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha chuffs at the compliments and then sighs. "You got spirited away and had... well. You are not that far removed. I'm not sure..." His ears wilt a bit. "I'm not sure if that's any better." A moment to poke at his potatoes. ""So. We're still going down there, and we're still fixing that. And damn anyone who says otherwise. Not after the Tower." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna raises her glass more decisively. "Aye." She drinks to that. She smiles. "Eight years was something of a shock. To go from the end of the world to... all this. Everyone picking themselves up and rebuilding and then..." Now she falters a little. "To see all that might come to naught again, so soon. It damaged my calm more than I should have allowed it to." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' Amelris lift his glass in the call. He drinks to that. "Hey," He adds, setting down his drink with a grin. "See it this way. That's eight year younger than you'd be! That's at least one good thing out of that." The Red mage waves a hand. "We rebuilt, it was hard, it was difficult but that's what made me go out as an adventurer. Hells, you Warriors of Light been an inspiration when I was younger. So, chin up!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha perks a bit. "He's right, you... the general you, of course, were an inspiration to us all. Even if we couldn't remember your faces, anymore." A puff of breath, and then he lifts his glass. "So. You did well, and now you are here to inspire us once more."     He takes a drink, sets down the glass, and then huffs. "...Right, topic two. How's this thing with Shyra and the others going? You're both pretty tore up. Did you see Inga?" 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "I'm just glad you believed me." Alruna sits back, rubbing her face. There's still so many holes, bits and pieces of her life that have gone missing, the ache of losing touch with her old comrades isn't one that will go away soon. Come to think of it... if any of them ever pop out of the aether in the South Shroud in the future, she ought to leave a message there for them. She makes a note to follow that up later. She nods. "Kingsmouth is not a nice neighbourhood, but it will serve our purposes." She elects not to comment on Inga's bone fences, regardless of their efficacy against the locals. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' "No reasons for us to not believe you, honestly." Amelris shrugs, leaning back against his seat.      He drains the rest of his drink, wincing. "Yeah, it should do well. So. What now?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha perks. "You went to Kingsmouth?" He scritches at an ear and makes a face. "I'm hoping Inga's wards were holding or else that's not really a good place to rest." He takes another bite of meat and huffs. "So, is everything okay? I am guessing it wasn't if you had to dive into Solomon Island."     There's a moment where he looks like he's having an Echo Flashback, but he manages to fend that off. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "Aye, but as I said to Raphael, it's not like that we'll be looked for there, and it provides us ample opportunity to learn how to fight together." Alruna attacks her plate again with gusto. Highlanders. "And we'll need every advantagshe we can get, judging from how our encounters went." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Plus there's a lot of things to just... go look for." Amelris concludes, shaking his head. "Lots of zombies. Fishmen. Treasures. Unspeakable horrors." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Another bite of sausage, and then N'raha relucantly reaches for some fruit as well. "Hrmph. That school that's farther up the road is pretty out there too. The Innsmouth Academy. There's a hotel and a funfaire and... all of it is awful." A bite of an apple. "You're right all of it would do well for training."     A breath, and then he looks at the others. "...Anyone else got some things they want ot bring up?" He scritches at his cheek. "Even if I'm..." He makes a face. "Party leader for now doesn't mean I'm the only one who gets to ask questions." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna thinks for a moment, chewing thoughtfully while staring at the ceiling. "How's your impulse control coming?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Amelris looks between N'Raha and Alruna, fork and knife cutting up some meat. The Red Mage thinks on this. Things certainly have changed around here, ever since the world have opened up like it have.      He settles on something, grinning and leaning back.      "Nah, not really someting as /big/ as such," The Red Mage comments, holding his cut meat out beside him as he gesticulate. "I'm pondering what else to do on some fronts... annnnnd avoiding some people."      The fork goes into his mouth. Amelris frowns, furrowing his brows as he pulls it out. Empty. Nothing. He looks down next to him. To everyone else, there was a flash of fluff that bounced from the side of the table, snagged the sausage bit and then fell back. Amelris frowns down at his Carbunckle. "I've spoiled you." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha perks at that. "I... how... how do you guys think it's coming?" There's a flick of his ears, and he looks from Amelris to Alruna and Carbuncle and he just... lets out a breath. "Have you seen any issues in a while? I don't think I've... lost myself." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna is struggling to contain a smirk, for multiple reasons. "That little ball of fur and aether is more trouble than he's worth." she comments. Turning to N'raha she leans on the table, resting her cheek in her hand. "You seem to be okay. You handled the Coil better than I did, at least. Whether there was aught to be impulsive about... I suppose you could've leapt off the bridge after Lezard, but you didn't." she points out. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' "We'll get our chance to strike at him." Amelris comments, grumbling a bit and cutting himself ANOTHER piece of sausage to eat. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A grump. "He was at Tallahassee when we were working tto prevent that Magical Girl from killing everyone." Raha slumps his shoulders. "I wanted to kill him right then and there but I didn't want to lose myself so... I faltered. Luckily there were others there who could help." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna nods. "So your Inner Beast isn't spiralling out of control." she summarises. "That's good!" 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' "Is that how it works?" Amelris asks, tilting his head. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha sighs and puts down his knife and fork, and picks up his mead. "It's... It's something like that. I just..." His ears wilt again, and he looks to the others. "I know that the Beast still lurks. It wants to get out. Inga calls it the Odinsrage, which... I'm not sure she realizes how accurate that is, even here."     A callused hand rub at his face, and N'raha murmurs. "You guys trust me to be a leader, and I can't be that when I'm... lost to the Will to Fight." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna grunts. "If it were no more than despicable acts that set this off, you'd be little more than an avenger riding across the land attempting to cut down all who crossed your path, afore long, aye?" She cocks her head. "I'm not sure I have the knowledge or experience to help a Warrior tame themselves." she admits. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' The Red Mage is taking it easy, relaxing and trying to not push his wound all too much. "Neither do I." Amelris admits, shrugging briefly. "Beyond that, I can't really think of much else." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman wilts a bit. "But, until someone can help me tame that spirit, I will remain... who I am. And that Beast will only get to peek out when its needed. And Inga knows how to bring me back, so."     There's a moment as he lets out a brreath, his ears turning a little pink on the inside. He stuffs some meat in his face.      

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "By the way," Amelris says, peeking up, downing his second cup of wine. "If we have a pair of Maelstorm officiers Miqo'tes that come searching for me, I ain't here, alright?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Uh."     N'raha peers at Amelris. "Are you dating on the side and we didn't know about it?" 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "No, it's my old folks." Amelris replies, happily, pouring himself a third drink. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha picks up his mead, looks at Alruna, and then sips, his ears flicking forward. "I uh... I suppose this is a safe house for that sort of thing, but you... you know I'm with the Maelstrom too, right?" 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Yeah, me too." Amelris replies, sipping on his third drink. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's eyes flick back and forth between N'raha and Amelris over the rim of her cup. "Is... is that an issue?" she asks, putting her empty cup down. "Did something else happen while I was gone?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A frown from N'raha, and he sighs. "I... I can't fault you for that, I suppose. I uh."     He rubs his nose. "I always avoid my father when I go home too. At least my mothers and aunts know about Inga, so... I can't say I'm springing that on them."     He slides the wine bottle gingerly away from Amelris. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "It's not really a /huge/ issue," Amelris comments shaking his head. "They're just of the ... you know, nagging sort."      He finishes his third drink, setting the glass down. "Do you have any idea how ex-pirates that turn nagging and coddling is like?" 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "I cherish my ignorance." Alruna says, trying not to think about the subject. Thal's balls, they've all got family problems, don't they. "Give me that." she mutters, the Highlander's entirely too long arm plucking the wine bottle out of anyone's hands to refill her glass. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha's ears flutter a bit as Alruna takes the bottle from him, and then huffs. "Mother is still a little put out that I'm not... coming home to be a Nunh, and I want to tell her that harems are for old men and I... bluh."     He pours himself a mead, and ctakes a big pull. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "She'll get over it." Amelris replies, shrugging, reaching for a mead as well to open it up, take a swig. "I suspect, anyway. Anyway. That's why I'm 'Amelris Belthrone', mostly because I was trying to go out on my own way and my own merit." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna chuckles and raises her glass. "To family. And ignoring everything they want for you." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' Amelris toss up the bottle of mead. "Hear, hear." CLING against the glasses. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha continues the clinking, and then ets out a breath. "Here's to... finding your own path. We may be tied to Fate but it is not an anchor around our necks." 
}}

7115/FATE: The Castle Run In Under 12 Malms

2022-12-22T20:34:42Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/03/03 |Cast of Characters=819, 7201, 6860, 7213, 42 |pretty=yes }} {{Poses |Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''   &..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/03/03
|Cast of Characters=819, 7201, 6860, 7213, 42
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     IT has been several tense weeks for Savlens and Aeta cen Titeus. The good news is they were no longer being blackmailed and held semi-captive by a rude Lalafell and his trading company. On the other hand, their baby, a rather fancy Ceruleum fueled airship, was stuck doing slow laps over parts of uninhabited Eorzea to try and keep out of the sight of the Alliance and the Syndicate and...     And on that note, there's been a lot fewer patrols looking for missing airships and a lot more patrols watching for All Of The Dragons. Thanks, Lezard?     But a message has gone out to the Concord, and specifically 'Captain' Arkae. It's got to be now or never, the ship is running low on Ceruleum and they've got to either land it to refuel or get it out of Eorzea.     Might be time to use all that nonsense about Bahamut and whatever to get sneaky? 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Captain Arkae has been practicing - or at least learning the controls and grilling the engineers for tips. She's pretty sure she's got this. Pretty sure. "We need more of this ceruleum stuff anyway to keep using the airship long term... let's find a mine or pump or whatever, load up as quietly as we can, and then just power out on a full tank," is her call. "And so... um..." She glances at the map, thinking. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt was involved with helping ...acquire the airshop (let's go with acquire) and so she promised to help get it off Eorzea too. She is easy to convince to help if she thinks she might get to fight someone or do something else that's fun, and joy-riding in an airship counts. Also she has climbed to every high part on the airship in sequence so she can take a better look around. Just in case someone does come after them. Right now she's watching out from over Arkae, balanced on a railing like it was no big thing. "Aye aye, cap'n," she says, with a half-joking tone to her voice. "Does that mean we're gonna run the gauntlet?" Pause. "IS there a gauntlet?" 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Arcadia for one actually got a bit giddy when the message came in that things were about to go to hell in a handbasket with a future forecast of Dragons, Dragons and More Dragons. "Ooooh, this is perfect! For all my poking around in stuff lost and ancient, I've never actually seen a World Ending Event with my own eyes!" The sphinx pauses, likely due to getting a few odd looks from her excitement. ".. What? Okay, it sucks for this world, but not gonna lie your world is kind of in a deep hole of crap already. Now its just with more Dragon Crap." She tilts her head a little to the side. "Do we have time to pitstop for more fuel? Or should we make a run for the figurative border and come back to 'aquire' some power juice later?" She doesn't actually do air quotes but the emphasis is there in her voice. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It's Aeta who answers that one, wiping her hands on her long apron anxiously as Savlens tends to the engine down below. "So we can handle... both of those options at the same time. But it will take some... creative measures." She motions at the map, and points at a section of Northern Thanalan. "There's two points here. There's... Here." She points at the Ceruleum Processing Plant. "This is where the Savages are busy using our technology to make their own Ceruleum."     Her finger slides north, to a point marked 'Castrum Meridianum'. "And there is still a functional warpgate that can accomidate... this ship in here. I think. It will be interesting to see if it still functions after the carnage that Gaius wrought." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren is here in his flight armor; the struts and hyperglass thruster nozzles, vaguely suggestive of wings, lack the polished appearance of a finished product, clashing with the curved white plates of the armor itself. "We might be able to make a ceruleum substitute if we learn about how it works."     He leans over the map. "Well if THEY can do it, the Concord should be able to set up our own plant off-world, right? Or perhaps we can arrange for one of Eggman's experiments to give us a better chance at taking that one..." 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "I'm feeling like taking a risk," says Arkae. She points at the Castrum Meridianum mark. "We fuel up, take the warpgate. If there's resistance, we'll just have to fight it off while the ship refuels." She glances over at Staren. "I mean... I'm literally an alchemist. There's a decent chance I can figure it out for myself, eventually." She doesn't actually know if there's a decent chance of that. Arkae moves over to the controls, and puts the ship into motion. "Aeta, you and Savlens are in charge of keeping the ship up and getting it refuled. Staren, you assist if you're needed there, otherwise you're with me, Arcadia, and Katt on keeping everyone else away from my ship." "Gear up and get ready. I've got a pile of potions over on the counter there, grab some if you need them." There is indeed a literal haphazard pile of glass vials with various glowing liquids. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' "Well, we only need to borrow some to get through the gate, right? Once we're out you can worry about making some more or whatever." Katt drops into a crouch on the railing so she can talk to the others more easily without being lifted up over them, her feet gripping onto it. Katt pulls out a canteen and takes a swig from it (it's just water). "I like this plan," she decides, hopping off the railing and wandering over to the pile of bottles. She picks out a couple of the more interestingly colored ones to save for later. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Aeta points out they can hit one need on the way to the other, and Arcadia ohs softly. "Okay, that works. Two birds with on--Oh sorry Arkae, that's probably racist. ANYWAYS!" She pats Arkae on the shoulder to quickly scoot past the little faux paus. "Don't worry, we didn't help you get this far with lifting a ship off some greedy assholes to let it, uh," she taps her chin with a finger. "Would it be sink or crash for a flying boat? Probably doesn't matter. It's adventure time!" She scampers over to snatch a few bottles and drop them in her inventory subdimension, and then hurries off for the main deck. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "There's more than one way to skin a cat." Arkae gives Arcadia a thumbs-up. "There! We're even, so don't worry about it. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' "Hey, what did I ever do to you?" Katt asks, distantly, while holding up a green-filled vial to the light to judge its tint. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "... Darnit, okay, quick, make some tasteless bird joke, Katt." "And that'll make us even... I think?" Arkae looks over at Katt, then Arcadia, then does some self examination. One cat, one bird, one half-cat-half-bird, and one Staren. "Should I have made a joke that was half about birds and half about cats and involved a robot monkey too instead? This is getting complicated." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Aren't you part bird too?" Staren points briefly at Arcadia's wings.     "I'm not a monkey!" He takes his helmet off to show the cat ears. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a grunt from the newly installed loudspeakers in the wheelhouse. Savlen's voice from the engine room. It was nice to have new toys. "Aye aye. I can get you to the Plant but we'll need fuel to take off again."     Aeta smiles. It was nice having something they could actively do, rather than just rig up the new kit that Arkae and Arcadia had brought to spiffy up the ship.     The main airscrews rev up, the windsails catching what breeze they can to help assist, and then the ship is off on it's (last?) voyage in Eorzea.     The trip takes the better part of a half hour, with some interesting rumbles and rattles coming from the engine and belowdecks. Savlens is leaning out the mix, it seems and the enginee isn't enjoying it. He really was pushing this. But eventually, the brown and grey sands of the Sagoli give way to the blue and white crags of Northern Thanalan... and the smoke stacks of the bustling Ceruleum Plant. There's a half dozen or so other airships just milling around out here. Nothing overtly military, but then again, this vessel wasn't overtly military either.     Aeta is the first out on the edge of the decks as the ship pullllls in slowly to a slip, and 'anchors' by casting lines out to hold it in place. "That's all we've got," says Savlens over the speakers. "We're here on just the lift crystals now, only the natural bouyancy. You want to move, you get us fuel."     There are steveadors starting to head for the ship, and Aeta glances back at the rest of the 'crew'. "They're expecting cargo, what now?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren blinks at Aeta. "Say you lost the cargo to sky pirates? If there are sirships those are a thing, right? Or is there actually some cargo here?" 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Arcadia pauses, turns back to the others. "Was any of the stuff the previous owners were loading left? It might distract them for a bit?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Savlens helps with that one. "We've still got three crates of copper ore left, if that helps? It's not much and probably not what they were expecting." 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' "I'll save it for when you least expect it," Katt promises Arkae, with a slightly toothy grin. She glances over at Staren - huh, she hadn't seen his ears before. Her own ears (which are not quite feline, despite her name, though they certainly aren't human) flick absently, or at least the left one does. But: to the Ceruleum Plant! Arkae has a plan. Katt isn't terribly fond of it, really, but it does have at least a chance of working, and so she accepts it - it's not a horrible plan as these things go. Which means... "Do you have a spare box?" Katt asks Savlens. "I'm gonna get in it. They can load *me*. Won't they be surprised!" 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "We have some cargo that we grabbed along with the ship. Let's pick out two or three of the bigger boxes and hide in it- along with the other cargo we don't want." "I mean, I'd prefer to hang onto all of it, but the ship here is the real prize, so it's fine." Arkae goes to quickly do just that, isolating the three crates and quickly emptying them. "Arcadia, Katt, pick one each and get in. Staren, keep acting like you belong." She pauses. "Maybe cover your forehead and act like you've got one of those little jewel things there, too." 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Arcadia was liking this idea, up until Arake points her to a box as well. Then she doesn't like it so much, ears laying back partially. "But they're so small!" Even though they're kind of not. It's not like she's clastrophobic or something. It's the idea of -sitting still- that bugs her... But oh well. It's to help friends, mission, and what not. Despite the grumping Arcadia climbs in, collapsing her wings to do so. At least she's more than enough flexible, like a real cat, to curl up to fit. "If I end up Shrodingering in here, I'm coming back to haunt everyone one of you." 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt, on the other hand, is pretty small, and can get in boxes easily enough. She is mostly hampered by trying to find a way to get her staff in where it does not jab her. "I wish I'd saved my drink," she says, as she pulls the box closed so they can't see her. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     There's some quick discussion about how to keep the Eorzeans busy. Some people will go ahead in boxes -- Staren, by chance, actually looks like a native. "Alright... I guess I could pretend I'm an Eorzean adventurer that looted this sweet armor on another world." He slips the helmet into his bag. "What's an appropriate Miqote name?"     Once that's sorted out he walks to wherever the stevedores are going to board; explaining his cover story and that they lost much of their cargo to pirates. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     People are being loaded into boxes, there's tenders starting to clamber up and onto the ship, and it's...     TOPSIDE A Miqo'te lady who's first on the scene. She's not wearing any of the colors of the obvious Alliance Grand Companies, but she's got on... Blue and blacks. Hmmm. "Ahoy... Incidental Profit! This is a rather interesting design." The blue skinned cat lady is carrying a clipboard, and has a smart looking gun at her hip. She licks the tip of her pencil, and glances to Aeta and... S'taren. "Oh! Hello!" There's a little trill at the end of that 'hello!' and the girl licks her lips a bit, her tail poofing. "I'm Quhri!"     Alert: Someone is flirting with you, Staren.     BELOWDECKS The main cargo doors open, and a small horde of Roegadyns star to shuffle onto the ship and... year, the cargo hold is in a sorry shape. Not a lot of profits here today boys. Oh well, work's work. They start hauling out the crates and down into the facility. Two of the crates are surprisingly light, but... well. They're not having to do much. This is fine. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' There's not really much for Arkae and Team Cats in Boxes to do yet, if everyone else is sticking to the plan. Sit still, wait for the boxes to get into the facility... 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt is a perfectly healthy ninety-two pounds, thank you! Which, admittedly, is a lot lighter than the copper ore would have been. Katt braces herself in the box to avoid rattling around in it, making sure her staff is not making an obvious clatter or banging. Travel by Roegadyn is not the most comfortable way she's ever gotten around, but she can manage. Still, Arkae's going to owe her for this, at least a little... 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Arcadia has to bite her lip to not make any awkward noises as her box is jostled around while being carried off the ship. It's a good thing she's purposely lightweight for exceptional flight capability so there's not a ton of magitek weighing down her box. It probably just feels like it's full of a bunch of tools or machina parts or something else not nearly as interesting as actual treasure. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Thanks! Well, I can't take credit for the design, it's not like I built it." Staren turns around with his hands on his waist as he tries to look like a captain surveying his ship. After a few seconds he turns back to Quhri, and smiles. "Nice to meet you!" He extends a hand to shake. "How are things going here at the plant? Sky pirates, dragons, and artificial primals... these are dangerous times. ...Do you need to hire any additional protection? If it pays better than trade, maybe my crew and I can help out when we get back from this next shipping contract." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Aeta chuffs a bit, and manages at least a passing Thanalan accent. "My husband and I are the designers. We work out of Ul'dah." She chuffs up a bit, and fiddles with her goggles, as if to make the point. Who else but engineers wears goggles at night?     Quhri smiiiiiles at S'taren, just, frankly ignoring Aeta, and then blinks a bit. "Your crew is looking a little light up here, are they all belowdecks? It's not... we don't have very FANCY amenities out here, but..." Oh Twelves.     TEAM BOX CREW will find themselves moving down some ramps, and hear other people hiking back up the ramps, carrying... well. A voice. "Of course it's some strange bloody ship. I thought they made all of them with fueling ports on the OUTSIDE these days." "Nah, it's some tripped up hackjob number. Who knows, popping up all over now. Just make em proper at the Ironworks, I say..."     And then one by one, the boxes are set down in... somewhere. Sounds like you're still outside, but the voices are going quieter. Also Katt's box is on top of Arkae's. Hmmm. Issues. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Oh, the box stopped moving. But that doesn't mean they're exactly alone yet. Arcadia squirms a little, and failing to find a way to comfortable move an arm, resorts to using her tail to activate her magitek visor. She really needs to get a less manual way of activating it, but the dramatic touch and swipe as the visor materializes is too showy to pass up. Not that anyone can see it right now. More to the point, once it's activate she can use to infrared vision to see if there's any other body heat signatures near the boxes. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Some of them." Staren's ears splay and his tail droops and he looks down at the deck for a moment. "We lost some to the pirate attacks..." Then he straightens up. "Hazards of the job, unfortunately. I was planning to try hiring some mercenaries from offworld on this next trip."     Staren tilts his head innocently, tail curling into a question mark. "What's not what?" 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Arkae finds herself wishing she'd brought a book. She grips the hilt of her sword. Katt's box being on top of hers is going to make getting out a bit trickier, but she thinks she can manage, when it comes time... 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' As soon as Katt hears the voices leaving, and isn't being moved around any more, she gets to work. 'Work' in this case is using her staff as a crowbar to pop the box open, so she can lever the lid off (she doesn't realize she's on top of Arkae) and pop her head out. Followed shortly by the rest of her, if she doesn't see anyone around. Or possibly even if she does. Katt doesn't exactly wait well. Patience is for other people. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     TEAM BOXES is in a holding stockpile for gear. As Katt pops herself out of her own crate, she's going to... very much surprise a lanky elezen man who's passing by with his own clipboard and a stamp and... He yelps with surprise, and screams. "My word! Stowaways! Guards! Guards!" So much for free travel in Eorzean stolen ships you stole yourself! Gosh.     Arcadia's going to get a REALLY good view, through her visor, of more people in those blue and black uniforms angling over towards the stockpile, a hyur fellow unhooking a large gun from his hip while the miqo'te lady next to him is pulling a spear from her back to point at Katt. "STOP! RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE!"      

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     TEAM FLIRT: Quhri smiles and sighs. "Oh, nothing, just... ah don't mind me, it's just been a while since a miqo'fella showed up at the port, so.. AH! Right." She shuffles over and holds out her clipboard. "Right, I just need you to sign here and here an-"     Belowdecks, there's a yelp and a bang and a clatter of tanks of something. "OY! I know this ship! Innit this the one that the Syndicate was lookin' for?" "Oy! It's the Profit, yeah." Running feet, and then the scruffy hyur is glaring up at the deck from the docks. "MISS KEFNU! THIS 'ERE'S THE STOLEN SHIP!"     Poor Quhri is blasted out of her flirting to glare at S'taren and Aeta... "Oy what's this then? Who are you?"     One of the answers is a yelp and a gunblade firing down in the hold of the Profit, and the corpse of an unfortunate porter being kicked out of the hold. The other one runs screaming, as Savlens snarls. "No Savage will surry my good name saying I stole my OWN SHIP."     Damn. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Whoops, Katt went and jumped the gun (box) while Arcadia was doublechecking the surroundings. Which is kind of funny. Arcadia isn't exactly patient herself, but she is experienced in dungeoneering adventurer stuff to know sometimes you need to take a second look. But it's kind of a moot point now. So instead of bothering being careful with getting out of her body she just hits the lid and expands her wings, smashing the crate open around herself. "These aren't bags but the cats are out of them! So you can just blow off!" Elemental energy swirls around her arms briefly as the sphinx thrusts one forward and a powerful blast of wind rips free, aimed at hurtling the guards away from Katt and preferably into something heavy. "Time for stealth is over, now the real fun begins~" She enjoys this sort of thing maybe a little too much. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "-Ah-" Arkae tries to get out of her box, and bangs on the side if she can't. "Hey!" She grips the Red Bird Relic in her offhand and considers her options if she can't get out. Setting everything on fire would work, but probably would catch her on fire as well... 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt *was* taking a look! She can't see through boxes and didn't actually know Arcadia could, either. Oops. Katt ducks back down in the box. This is only so that she can spring all the way out in a single leap, launching the lid in the general direction of the armed soldiers; her aim with the lid of a cargo crate is middling, but she comes down with her staff in hand, spinning it before her in a menacing display. "C'mon!" she says, making a 'come here' gesture with one hand, her staff whirring to a rest position. "You want to fight, let's fight!" Well, they did say they wanted a distraction. Only once she's threatened the group does she think: hey, where's Arkae? Well, maybe if Katt makes enough noise Arkae will find her. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' NEVERMIND ARKAE SHOVES HER WAY OUT OF THERE "Yeah! Let's fight!" she yells as she jumps out of the box, drawing her sword. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     TEAM CAT BOXES: Arcadia is going to surprise the hell out of those two poor guards, winds knocking the lancer clean over to her backside, but the Hyur fellow stands tall, and he raises his gun, firing off a volley of shots into the growing crowd of Thieves, only to be LID'D to the ground by Katt. Moore guards are starting to move in, a mix of archers and sword and shield types. Looks like only the fancy people here get Actual Guns. Don't want to cook off all this fuel.     Arkae's keen BIRD SENSES will hear the engines of another one of the airships starting to spin up. People are making their move, but rather to intercept or flee isn't sure at this point. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren finally realizes what Quhri was asking. "Oh. Sorry. I, uh..." He takes the pen and is about to start writing when the screaming starts. He drops the clipboard and tries to just grab Quhri with the armor's strength. "This ship belongs to the Concord now. Let us fuel up and go and..." he sighs. "Look, I'm here supporting my allies. All I know is your 'alliance' is making beastmen summon Primals and released Emperor Xande, putting the world in danger. I'll do my best to see that noone dies today whether you fight or not, but I can't say the same for my allies. Look, can't you just claim insurance on the lost fuel or something?" 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Arkae glances over at something. The engines on another ship are starting up... "You guys got this!" she yells, and then runs in the direction of the airship that's starting up, chugging whatever mobility potions she needs to get there faster (water walk, spider climb, jump) and then try to get on board *that!* 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The grabbing part is going to be tough, because as Staren goes for that, Quhri suddeny disappears into a cloud of smoke as stuff on her belt explodes and obscures his vision enough for her to sneak out of that grab. There's one, then two shots that spang off Staren's armor. "You're doin' a poor job of that, then! Who's that killin' my men in the hold?" The miqo'te is readying herself for battle, a pair of magitek drones deploying from a large container at her hip, both whirring to life and deploying small guns that take aim on Staren.     Aeta is already moving from Staren's side, scrambling for one of the ladders down into the hold of the ship. She's got to help her husband. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' There's a few shots, sparking as they ding into Arcadia's armor and defensive wards, but she's been shot by much worse things before. Katt clobbers the big dude before he can do worse. But there's other guards coming. "Now for the real fun!" And her getting to show off for her allies. It's a good day for Arcadia. "Hey, Katt." The runic stones imbedded in her forearm armor flicker as they shift to a bright sparkling blue-green color. "How about we light up these poor sods lives a little?" The sphinx thrusts out her arms, lightning leaping from as she releases the crackling energy. "Chain Lightning!" It doesn't really matter who or what it hits first, as the electricity lives up the name and starts forking off, trying to jump from one victim to the next. It's not hard to see Arcadia has experience in dealing with enemies swarming. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren sighs. His forcefield is up and he puts his helmet back on. "I'm not the one leading this operation. I'll do what I can for them. Look, can we trade something else for the fuel? Information, medical supplies, guns?" He fires his beam cannons at the drones as he backs further onto the ship, but he doesn't attack anyone yet. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Oh, *there's* Arkae. Katt gives her a grin as she runs past, making way for her and not incidentally trying not to get shot. She's pretty quick, but the gunfire stops her from attacking immediately, dancing away from it. Seeing an opening, Katt winds up and swings her staff like a baseball bat, with both hands. She isn't aiming for the crate but instead assorted debris, sending it flying toward the gunner in a return fire! Once she's wound up and smacked it, she darts in after it. "You got it!" she calls to Arcadia, grinning again. She tries to stay away from some of the ones that are being lightninged so it doesn't chain to her, using lunging strikes of her staff to fight at maximum reach. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     TEAM EVERYONE:     And I mean EVERYONE because as a whole, as that chain lighting arcs out from Arcadia's hands, it zaps several of the the approaching guards, arcs off a pipe, and then touches off a stack of barrels filled with Ceruleum. They... explode. In a rather loud, noisy and extremely toxic manner. As in, this shit's toxic and explosive.     People go scrambling for cover, expecting... other, secondary explosions, that do not come.     Arkae will see the crew on the large cutter she's climbing abord trying to get going faster and faster. This here crew is in a woody sort of themed ship, and it's flying the colors of the Twin Adders. The elfy people's alliance, in the woods. Makes sense. Miqo'te ladies and elezen of both genders are scrambling, and it's only the few marines on deck that take notice of Arkae's appearance, archers starting to take aim. Several people wielding magical staffs are... staying back.     No one wants this place to cook off. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The explosions down on the ground get Quhri to just glare at Staren. Down below, it's clear that something is happening, because the engine starts to rev up again, the Profit's main rotors starting to move at an idle pace.     "You can get the hells of this swivin' ship, it ain't yours!" She glares at her drones being shot down, and it's clear that little pack on her hip is gearing up more of them at this point. It's a paired set, apparently. Ammo packs and gun and catgirl.     Quhri considers things, and then hip fires twice more at Staren, and steadies herself, a third shot coming at him not at gunpowder speed but gauss rifle speed, blistering against his shields and penetrating to strike armor. "We ain't deal with actual pirates and I dislike dealin' with the Maelstrom so just shove off, and leave! and STOP BLOWING UP THE DEPOT."     There's more motion belowdecks, and someone's running up the stairs back to the deck. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Zap go the guards... And BOOM go the barrels! "That's why I didn't use fire!" Arcadia yelps, briefly about as surprised as everybody else. But it quickly passes, because there's not enough time to be surprised for long at times like this. "I think we've wore out our already thin welcome here. But we shouldn't leave empty handed either." The fuel containers are a little too big for her to carry off, she's super-fast not super-strong. The sphinx instead looks for something else that might be useful. Like tools or stuff the two engineers could use to keep those engines running properly, that would be easy enough to grab on the way out. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Arkae grins at the combatants assembled on deck. Big beaky grin. "Hi! You've been selected to take part in distraction duty!" she calls, and attempts to just simply run past them, dodging or tanking their attacks, to get to whatever controls the airship has... ... and then use her sword to simply cut and stab at whatever control systems are there, steering wheel, control panel, whatever! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     ARCADIA: You are in the region for offloading. There is a region of the stockpile where the fueltanks are, that seems to be heading onto ships that are leaving this depot. Several crates look... maybe promising?     Your systems are chunking on reading colloquial Eorzean, but maybe... 'resupply' or 'rations' or something? 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' An explosion! Katt thinks that she's being attacked at first and launches herself straight up... about twenty feet straight up. She hangs onto one of the overhanging struts, dangling from one hand and one foot. ...but then she realizes that Arcadia did it, and most of the guards are in hiding from further explosions. Katt has no idea what is likely to explode and thus assumes nothing is; she swings herself on her odd grip. "You grab something then! I don't want to leave the ship behind!" Katt launches herself in an enormous leap from the strut. She twists in midair and hits the ground running, plowing through any guards that try to block her exit with sweeping staff strikes. It is likely to clear the way for Arcadia, too, which is Katt's secondary objective. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     ARKAE: Several archers try to pepper the Captain Bird with arrows, but it's heard to do that in such close quarters, and people instead start coming with knives and truncheons and...     Really, little these people are going to do in their OWN SHIP is going to stop Arkae while she's hopped up on POTIONS and moving through a crowd of their own people. She's got advantage on her side for as long as her alchemy is going to work.     And the wheelhouse is probably the right call. Someone in an EXTREMELY fancy hat is already taking cover as Arkae busts in and... just sort of breaks the wheel. Huh. Better get moving. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren grunts and staggers back at the gauss shot, and uses the matter manipulator to deploy some concrete barriers as cover. "Leaving is what we're doing! We're just taking this ship with us!" He fires back stun bolts from some kind of energy pistol. "Look. What's fighting us here accomplish in the grand scheme of things? You think there's some poor downtrodden folks who will starve without the family airship? Or is it just about upholding the law at all costs, the laws of the same society driving the beast tribes to summon primals? Where's that concern and heroism when it comes for THEM, huh? Where's that concern and heroism when Eorzian heroes freed emperor Xande? You wanna be a hero, there are plenty better places to do it!" 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Wheel broken! "Good luck!" yells Arkae unrepentantly as she runs off the side of the ship- - and down the side towards the bottom, casually breaking physics as she runs straight down as if the side of the ship was the ground. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Close enough! It looks like it could be relatively useful and that's all Arcadia really cares to worry about at a time like this. She grabs onto two crates, digging in with her claws for extra grip. Then engages her various flight magi-systems, intending to use the additional lift in substitute for strength. Mana surges through the hyperglass conduits within, producing considerable thrust at a rediculous rate. Plumes of energy erupt from the protrusions on the back of her armor, followed by the smaller thrusters built into her wing pylons and battle skirt for additional life and control. In the end it should send the sphinx rocketing out of the depot and towards their airship, with a couple of whatever these crates are in tow. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     STAREN: The airscrews are turning faster now, and Savlen's voice calls out. "Both tanks are in, get moving."     Quhri was not expecting bloody entrenchments to appear on the deck, nor was she expecting the stun bolts. She staggers to the deck and yells. "I have n-no idea wh-what you're talk-talking about!"     And at Staren's side, Aeta comes rushing back up on deck and snarls. "Why are you talking to her? Bloody useless." She's grabbed a gunblade from somewhere, and sprints past Staren and his concrete to stab the disabled Quhri right through the chest. The Miqo'te lady gasps and tries to lift up her own pistol to shoot the other engineer, but Aeta pulls the trigger on her weapon, and ends that discussion.     The Garlean spits on the catgirl, and pulls out her sword, moving to kick the quartermaster over the side of the ship. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     STAB! "Hey, wait!" Staren reaches out a hand, but Aeta's already finishing Quhri off. Staren can see the next part coming, and is already flying over the edge of the ship to dive down and catch her so she doesn't sustain even more injury from falling. If she's not already dead, he pours a potion of healing on the wound and a potion of feather fall down her mouth and drops her -- if she is, he flies back to the ship with the corpse.     "It's not their fault we decided to steal from them today. And these aren't the Eorzians we need to stop." He explains to Aeta. "I'm reviving them and sending them home after this. Their lives are not worth so little."     When Aeta and Savlens grump about this, he points out: "I'd have done the same for you." 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt picks up the pace once she's pretty sure Arcadia is on her way too. Arcadia is faster than Katt is, but Katt is faster than most people when she wants to be, and right now she's acrobatically bounding over obstacles, around people, and in one case off a wall to corner faster than she would have at ground level. Destination: her ship! Well, Arkae's ship. Close enough. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     EVERYONE:     The moment one of you madmen touched off the Ceruleum, people being hopped up about stopping Pirates have suddenly and quickly stopped being hopped up on stopping Pirates. Resistance is now MIGHTY LOW and you honestly could probably steal more if Aeta and Savlens weren't already making the ship ready for departure. Ms. cen Titius is more than a little mad that they're saving the lives of Savages, but Staren is insisting.     If there's no other objections, the Incidental Profit pulls away from the Depot, and floats off towards Castrum Meridianum...     And this is likely the first time most people here have seen this. The place is half dead, lights still flickering on and off in parts, where it appears that teams are busy working inside the facility. Alliance teams, probably, but who knows, there's probably some adventurers diving into the ruins.     But one great section of the facility is carved out and ruined, and it looks like something like a magical nuclear device was touched off, a still glowing crater half a mile wide scarring the earth.     Savlens barks over the comms. "I'm not seeing anyone chasing us on this fancy detector you got us, Miss Arkae. Are we clear?" 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "I think we're clear!" As soon as she's aboard Arkae takes the helm, since she practiced for this, damnit. "Where's the warpgate?" she calls through the bridge PA. "Just need to get through that, get this to Concord territory, and we're untouchable!" 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' The airship is already in the process of taking off, but that's okay since Arcadia is the one that can fly anyways. She clomps the crates down on the deck, and wiggles her digits a few times so they don't lock up in that claw-clutching grip she was using. "I have no idea what's in these but they were in the depot and they looked useful." But now they've got the rest of the ship to sort it out, right? 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt has been to Eorzea before, but not much recently (helping Arkae excepted) and never to Castrum Meridianum. She leans what looks dangerously far off the side of the airship and shades her eyes to get a better look, tail lashing. "Wow! I've never seen anything quite like this before." Katt finally pulls herself back onto the airship, landing lightly - but she still keeps trying to peek over. "It looks like half of it is going to fall down. What exploded over there?" She points toward the crater. She also has sharp eyes: "Oh, and there are totally people down there. But I don't see, like... someone looking for us." 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' After depositing the crates Arcadia trots back over to the edge of the deck to see what everyone else is looking at. Lets out a long whistle as she adjusts the settings on her visor. "I'm detecting mainly aether residue in the structures. Without getting a closer look I can only hazard a guess it was a -very big- magical explosion. Like. If someone shoved a nuclear bomb full of mana instead of uranium." Really that she can scan that much from up here in itself says how big of a thing went boom down there. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It takes a bit, but as the Profit clears around the side of the Castrum, the crew will spot... the old Airship Mooring docks. Oh good! There's the warp gate!     Oh no. There's two manacutters, intercept craft flying the colors of the Maelstrom, that are spinning up their engines, a moment before the intercom crackles. "TWO SIGNALS CLOSE, MA'AM!"     The patrol craft deploy aerosails and flare to life, sweeping a long curve as magical cannons start to pepper the side of the hull of the Profit with raw aetheric energy. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Arkae curses. "Pig knuckles!" That seems like a good curse. "Arcadia, impress me!" she calls over the PA. She figures Arcadia has a better idea of how to handle aerial combat than she can. DELEGATION! "Katt, um, fight back if you can, if not then shout when you see attacks coming! Everyone else, help keep this thing together and going!" She focuses on flying, continuing on towards the warp gate... 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren's applied stabilizing nanobots to the corpses before coming back to the deck. He takes in the surroundings curiously but then... enemy ships? All the way out here? It DOES make sense someone would be watching the gate, but...     Well, the most immediate thing to do is try to neutralize their offenses -- Staren starts firing missiles at the enemies' cannons from the deck. He feels a bit more justified fighting them since they're apparently LOOKING for a fight, but it's still most expedient to target the weapons anyway rather than try to blow up the whole enemy ships. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' "I take that back!" Katt yells. "There are ships! I didn't see them because they were parked!" She pauses. "Or whatever you do with ships. Anyway. Um. They're there now!" Katt does not fly and is not going to take off in response to the patrol craft. Instead, she raises her staff, gathering power of her own. It makes her a visible target as energy swirls around her for a moment, building up... Katt sweeps her staff out in a wide arc. "Ha ha, catch!!" A gigantic clawed hand made of fire sweeps out of absolutely nowhere and swipes at one of the ships. It breaks apart into a wash of flame as soon as it touches anything, its form unstable, but the sudden plume of fire is hopefully enough to get one of the ships to back off even if there's no way it will cause it to crash. Especially if they think she can do it again. Which she can't. Katt has no idea what 'restraint' is. Her magical style is throwing every little bit of power she can gather into a single mighty blow. She wobbles on her feet afterwards, planting her staff to steady herself enough that she doesn't fall over. The weakness is only temporary, but she's completely spent all her magical reserves; while effective, there is absolutely no efficiency there. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Missles and fire claws lash out at the manacutters, the pilots doing their best to try and take down the ship but... for some reason it's a lot more armored than anyone properly reported to the authorities. Hmmmm.     The loudspeaker crackles. "Miss Arkae, please point the ship at the gate. Everyone else... hold on." And then the engine kicks. Astually, to say the engine kicks is putting it mildly. It ROARS, and the Profit lurches as the engine that is apparently built for a ship a class size larger than this suddenly lurches to full speed, threatening to put people overboard if they don't hang on. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Arcardia leans over a bit more to look ahead at what pulls attention away from the wreckage below. "And here I thought the rest of this trip was going to get boring~" Could Arcadia sound any more -excited- about the turn of events? Probably not. At least not in a short amount of time and she's not going to stand around longer than that. She vaults over the deck railing, rolling away briefly before spreading her wings and rocking off ahead of the Profit. As she does so Arcadia engages her attack bits, spreading them to her sides in formation. Multiple targeting + flicker across her visor sensors. The sphinx and her magitek swarm pull up in front of the manacutters, it becoming more clear that her flying is at least part magic levitation as she has no problem with sweeping both her wings forward and spreading them to display the ports in the ends of the primary struts already glowing, along with the multiple bits floating around her. "BULLET HELLSTORM!" Every equivilent to a gun port she has opens fire in multiple bursts screaming through the air between her and the enemy crafts in more dakka of magic lasers and bullets than you could shake several sticks at. The lasers blaze straight ahead, while the bullet volleys are in cascading arcs that sweep across several directions. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Presumably Arcadia is going overboard anyway to do her impressive thing, the engineers know to hang on, and Katt seems like the sort of person who can survive a fall, so Arkae isn't *too* worried about people hanging on. "Pointing at- CHIRP!" The tengu is impressed twice over. It's all she can do to keep the ship pointed straight ahead at the gate... 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt could survive falling off the ship, sure. But she prefers to stay on it. Having thrown the biggest, most violent offensive magic she can manage, Katt has nothing else to add to the aerial battle anyway; she runs across the deck as the speed kicks in, skidding several yards (with the claws on her feet leaving a score on the deck that will need to be fixed) before catching herself. "Waaaaugh!" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     This thing can MOVE. Staren scrambles to get inside once it becomes clear that it's gonna just KEEP GETTING FASTER! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And the last thing the rest of the crew of the Profit is going to see is Arcadia gleefully engaging in GLORIOUS DANMAKU with these poor fighter pilots, only for them all to sweep off into Concord space... with a souped up blockade runner.     Congratulations, Captain Arkae. What's your ships new name? 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "Okay, the ship needs a new name, and I can only think of one possible thing it could be!"                    ARKAE'S SOUPED-UP AIRSHIP WORK IN PROGRESS                                                  FEATHERED MAJESTY                                 
}}

7275/A Long Respite's End ft. Raha and Inga

2022-12-22T20:34:12Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/07/10 |Cast of Characters=819, 525 |pretty=yes }} {{Poses |Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Never..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/07/10
|Cast of Characters=819, 525
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Never call things a vacation. That's N'raha's motto. Because in the Multiverse, calling things a vacation means things will go wrong immediately. Which is why this... extended break... was not a vacation. It had been 'a long distance patrol'. To sunny parts of the Multiverse and away from Eorzea for a while.     Which is why the catteman is currently leaning up on the edge of a rail, looking over at a massive cascading waterfall in some part of... A Japan. He wasn't sure which one at this point. The hot springs next to him was currently occupied, of course, and there was food nearby, and... well.     Yes, clearly an extended patrol of the nice bit of Japan.     Raha sips on his drink, and then looks over his shoulder. "You okay in there, Inga?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Vacation is a bit of a strange concept for Inga. There's simply times when there is a lot of work to be done, and times when there are not. But she does think she could get used to this vacation thing. Inga is floating in the hotspring in her shift, on her back and staring up at the blue sky through the verdant leaves, her hair drifting around her in a white cloud. His words reach her through the filter of the water, sounded muffled and distorted. She turns her head, lifting her ears out of the water. "Hmm?" she asks, blinking hazel eyes, clearly in a languid state. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "I asked if you were okay in there." Raha snorts, takes another drink out of the wooden cup and then shifts himself away from the waterfall and over to the pool, slipping his legs inside the onsen. "I was making sure that you weren't going to fall asleep in there or something, fair lady." He splashes a bit of water with his free hand, his trunks getting soaked as he hefts the rest of himself into the water, his scarred chest sighing from the heat. "Gods." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' With apparent reluctance, Inga rightens herself and gathers up her hair, twisting it all together and pulling it over one shoulder, drifting over toward him as he slides into the hot spring to lean forward and rest her head on his shoulder. "Mmm, I think perhaps I am in dagner of dissolving," she replies with a soft laugh. "I should likely cool down," she adds, though she makes no move to get out of the water. Her eyes drift toward the waterfall. The water there is surely cool. She raises her hands to look at the skin of her fingertips, chuckling lightly at the wrinkles. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     With a goodnatured 'oof' at the leaning, Raha's arm shifts a bit to cup around Inga's waist and hold her there a bit. A sigh. "We're going to have to start making forays into Ishgard again, you know. Proper forays, to meet with the nobs and such. Rub elbows with Nobility."     He reaches up and taps Inga on the nose. "I know you don't hold a lot of truck with that, but, well. We'll need the support." He sighs quietly, and sips on his sake. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods her understanding, shrugging her shoulders. "Oh, I have plenty of experience with nobility. I have no real aversion, so long as we are respected appropriately," she comments with a small shrug. "I've even made a few dresses--and some clothing for you," she informs him. "We'll need information first though. Me must know those of influence, more about the political climate...well, you understand. We need a connection." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha arches an eyebrow, and smiles. "You... made me... fancy clothes. I know I ought to be keeping a better eye on you." He snickers and presses a kiss into Inga's hair, and then sighs. "Auphinaud and the others are making noises like they've got some angles, but.... but it remains to be seen what we need to be doing to get done. There's no way that the... whatever the hell sort of Bahamut that was is going to keep away for long. We DO need to move." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga smiles slyly. "When it comes to dealing with people one must keep in mind expectations and impressions. While I know you have formal clothes...it IS quite cold there," she replies, looking sheepishly to the side for a moment "and I will enjoy dressing you," she admits. "Indeed, it is likely time. Check with the Scions, see what connections can be found. It is likely we shall need a sort of...sponsor. Someone who can formally introduce us (and the others who wish to be part of this) to society." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a grin on Raha's fangs, as he hears 'dressing you'. "Yes, well. That is always fun, isn't it?" A little stick of his tongue, and then he murmurs, slipping his arms around Inga's waist. "So, I was thinking."     A little effort to hoist his mate into his lap, pressing nose to nose. "I was thinking if I should get... a proper Eorzean surname. Like Amerlis has." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga agrees with a laugh, reaching up to gently drape her arms around his shoulders. "A proper surname? Well, I suppose that you could. I believe you've mentioned it. I do not think I'll be much help in this regard, you know how my people do it. You are simply named after a parent, usually your father. Or, if one becomes famous enough...you get another name. Something that describes you. I only go by Freyjasdottir, because it is said I was chosen by Freyja. I've was also known as Inga Far-seeing, white witch...things like that," she explains. "They are not always flattering. I knew a man they called "tree-leg", of course..." she purses her lips, "everyone joked that one had multiple meanings." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha mmmhhhs. "I just don't want to pick something that sounds... ordinary or pretentious or anything like that." A grumble, and he smooches the back of Inga's head. "I want to find a nice balance of 'this is okay' and 'oh yes this fits N'raha.'" A huff puff, before he slides an arm away from Inga under the water, and then... pours another cup of sake.     He takes a sip, mmmmh,s and then offers it to her. "But that thought will porbably get eaten up by whatever inane nonsense happens in the next few weeks and then... I'll be right back here thinking about it again." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' She nods. "It is not an easy thing, a name. Most people are given theirs. I imagine you may be given a few yourself. Then you simply...decide to claim it or not," she offers. She does take a sip of sake, one eye squinting in a wince. She's not a huge fan of the stuff. It just takes like...burning. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha sighs and takes the cup back, sipping himself. The soldier has drank worse. "I suppose. One of these days one of those names will stick. Raha, Warrior of Light' is not really A Name, is it?" He slips his free arm a little tighter around Inga, before looking out at the water fall. "...Tonight, dinner. Tomorrow, we meet with the Scions. Planning. Yes?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' She smiles. "It could be a name, if you wanted it to be. It's certainly something you are called. It is up to you if you wish to embrace it or not," she replies, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. "Sounds like a good plan. I've some time before the men of Hrafnheim return from...erm, their voyage, so I'll have time to spend in Ishgard." 
}}

8086/PNL: Welcome... to Lampport

2022-08-30T03:26:39Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2022/08/29 |Location=Lampport, Tapestries |Synopsis=Stanley meets a BUNCH of Elites, and shows them a smidge of what life is like in Lampport. |Cas..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2022/08/29
|Location=Lampport, Tapestries
|Synopsis=Stanley meets a BUNCH of Elites, and shows them a smidge of what life is like in Lampport.
|Cast of Characters=7513, 7132, 7417, 7511, 6895, 7494
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     Lampport is... well, it's a city in flux. Offworlders who arrive will poof in from one of the very recently constructed Gate Terminals, with multi-facet corporate branding with names like NovaTech, Technodyne Industries, Lampport Community Improvement Agency, and a bunch of others. It's spic and span, it's clean, there are Helpful People Here and Signs to Get You Places that are fresh and new and clean and fantastic.     Jimmy's Grotto is nowhere near any of those places. It's in a section of what USED to be Downtown before Downtown moved to where the Money said it was now. It's in a strip mall, next to an arcade, a nail parlor, a tattoo shop, a massage place, and another nail parlor. It's busy enough for one of these sorts of places though, and smells fantastically of garlic, carbohydrates, cheese and grease. A pair of pizza runners flits out the doors, a pair of teens on bikes heading in opposite directions to deliver pies.     Stanley's locator is tracking deeper inside the facility. 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' Ishirou decides to check things out, not that he thinks Stanley is in trouble or anything...but because if there was something up it'd be a good chance to check things out. Also because the Watch and Concord were getting involved, it seemed like a good idea to keep an eye on things before they got new members. The first thing first, is to find Stanley. His phone says he's still inside the strip mall, which... "Geeze.." he says, considering the building. Lilian was right about Americans, he thinks to himself, but decides to push through. Also, with this much garlic, you'd think nobody would be able to smell anything ever..? Though he did always end up liking these hole-in-the-wall shops. His eyes look around, and if failing that, uses POD to try and pinpoint the signal and move towards it. He also looks out for any cop cars. There were sirens, right? So cops had to be nearby, right? 

:'''{{#var:7417|Rita Ma (7417)}} has posed:'''      Rita glances up at the Jimmy's Grotto sign, then down at her phone, then back up at the sign again.      "It doesn't look very much like a grotto, does it, Mr. Ishirou?"      Her usual outfit is only a little too dressed-up for the mall, so she doesn't bother shifting disguises: green skirt, white blouse, blue cropped jacket. "We'll just pretend we're customers, make sure he's okay, and it'll all be fine. Maybe we can even get some food afterwards, right?"      She opens the door and walks in with a distinct sense of optimism, albeit a fragile one. But unease is still prickling at the back of her neck. Rita takes a little breath in through her mouth, drawing air over her tongue to take advantage of her sharklike sensitivity. Beneath the smell of garlic and tomato sauce, is there a hint of blood in the air? 

:'''{{#var:7511|Timespace Riders (7511)}} has posed:'''      "Uwoh!" Sougo's eyes light up, on the other side of the gate. Dressed in rolled-up jeans that show off his colorful red hi-top sneakers, and a (just-slightly-too-large) short sleeve salmon button up, he is a stark contrast to his retainer. "This place looks like it sprung up barely a month ago--look how shiny!" He can see his reflection in the branding on the gate, even--which allows him to fix his auburn, medium hair just so.      Woz doesn't seem nearly as excited, nor as well-suited to this world. A mysterious book is clutched to his side, its cover a faded blue, with strange symbols like the whorls of a tree appearing here and there. A rugged wasteland cloak, black leggings and matching leather boots make him easy to pick out in a crowd. "Lampport, my Demon King," he says after a brief glance into the book. "This Stanley will be a ways away, if you insist on meeting him." The book is snapped shut. THE MALL      Sougo nearly bowls into one of the pizza couriers, while Woz gracefully (and with care for the book) weaves between them. "According to this book," says the retainer cryptically, "The tracking beacon will lead the others inside there."      Naturally, the two end up running into Rita and Ishirou, just past the front door. "Hi!" says Sougo with a warm smile. Stepping up to the counter, he procures his Concord card.      "Could we get a large pizza, for here? Oh, and, um..." He smiles sweetly, tapping the card softly. "I've heard you're supposed to tip, so... I'll tip for the pizza, and for anything you might know about the sirens we heard on our way in." 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     No cops, at least none that Ishirou can see or spot. Those kids sort of give the incoming Elites a once over, whisper amongst themselves and then continue on their merry pizza-delivering ways.     Rita can catch the hint of blood in the air. Human. Several humans. No way of telling from here why it's there.     Woz and Sougo could fit in with the kids here, probably, if not for the fact that they're presenting Extraversal credentials.     ...Inside it looks like your usual dive Italian place, but no one in here looks Italian. A heavy-set Czech fellow looks up as 'customers' come in, and frowns at their appearances. "...This is about young Stanley, yes? He is no trouble, just go home, he is fine." But someone IS ordering a pizza... and "Jan" according to that nametag... isn't about to say no to money. "...what kind pizza? All we got is cheese pizza or pepperoni tonight."     The two kinds of pizza, then.     But as the noise reaches father into the pizza place, someone pokes their nose around the hallway to the dining room/delivery kid space in the back. A lanky young man, wearing a school uniform complete with tie and a little silver badge sewn into the breast pocket... and a shockingly pink hairdo. Not like... anime pink though. It's been dyed pink, and poorly. "....It's okay Jan, I think... This will be fine."     Jan hrumphs, looks at Woz and Sougi, and takes their money. "...pizza will be out in a bit. Don't make trouble." Despite the fact that this man... is not an Elite, he looks perfectly ready to throw down to protect Stanley. Hmmm. 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' "I don't think it was meant to be a grotto in the traditional sense...we're quite away from the water here," Ishirou says, with a frown. When they cross paths with Woz and Sougo, he offers his own wave. "Hi!" Ishirou stares at Jan who frowns, and for a moment sounds like he's about to throw down. Ishirou raises his hands up, "Hey, nothing is wrong. We're just checking up on him because we heard sirens.." After a pause, he looks at Rita who informs them about blood. Though when the signal bearer comes out himself, and Sougo offers to pay for food, things are settling down. Of course, Ishirou calls Stanley a /kid/ so that...is a thing that just happened. He's not correcting himself though. Just going to own it! "No trouble from us Mr. Jam..." a pause, "Man I never tried making pizza before.." he looks towards Rita, "Have you?" Then to Stanley, "So what happened? Where are the police? Is everything okay..?" 

:'''{{#var:7511|Timespace Riders (7511)}} has posed:'''      "Oh, pepperoni, please!" Sougo smiles brightly, looking over his shoulder. "I hope you guys don't mind."      "Those who dislike pepperonis are free to pick them off, my Demon King," says Woz coolly.      "Ah..." Stanley reveals himself. "Hey, pink," Sougo says, pointing with a goofy grin at Stanley's hair, before flicking the collar of his own shirt. "I like pink, too! Oh, but--" Sougo hurriedly turns to Jan.      Offering a brief bow at the waist, "I can tell you care a lot about Stanley. We won't insult that by making trouble, right, Woz?"      "Hmph."      "That means yes," Sougo glowingly translates. Turning his attention back to Stanley, Sougo marches right up, extending a hand. "My name's Sougo Tokiwa! That's Woz," he says, gesturing with a sweep of his hand to the time traveler taking a seat in the nearest booth. "I think he's Ishirou," Sougo continues, "Which would make her Rita! I think..."      "Anyway, are you Stanley? It sounded like he was in trouble." 

:'''{{#var:7417|Rita Ma (7417)}} has posed:'''      Rita's eyes dilate. She closes her mouth. Her gaze unfocuses for a moment, as if she were trying to stare through the back wall.      Then she's jostled out of it by Sougo's greeting, giving him and his companion both a quick head-bow in rapid succession. "Ah- hi! You're the two others who were on the radio, right? It's great to meet you!"      "I'm sorry, Mr. Jimmy," she starts saying to the burly man- it's Jimmy's Grotto, so he must be Jimmy, right?- "but I'm still worried about him. I think something's gone really wrong. If you can just let us into the back..."      "Oh! Stanley!" She recognizes the young man's voice immediately, rushing over to the counter to get a closer look at him. The missing honorific is notable. "Are you okay? Nobody's hurt, are they?"      She knows someone is hurt. The real question is: is it anyone they should care about?      When Woz sits down in a booth, Rita follows, flopping down on the padded seat before scooting herself over to the far side and beckoning the rest of the group to join them. "No," she says to Ishirou: "I looked it up, but the 'tossing' part seemed kind of scary. And it's not something me and Ms. Grier could share anyway, so..."      Her attention turns back to Stanley, whenever he gets close enough to the booth. "How do you know that man? Do you come here often?" She's got the youthful energy to be direly full of questions. 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     The little 'dining room' is a bunch of tables and chairs as one would expect, but this place seems to cater more to carryout or delivery. There are some fans to keep the air moving in the little place, and the back door is propped open. As Stanley comes to sit the four Elites down at a table, he winces, and puts a hand up to the back of his head, pulling away a hand with some drying blood. "...dammit. Right uh, I guess. You guys found my phone or something. Hi... I'm Stanley. Stanley Padg-"     And his own introduction is cut off by Sougo, who introduces everyone else. Stanley takes that hand and shakes it, and then grumps, as he gets some dried blood on the Rider. "...sorry, let me..." He grabs a wad of wet naps from a bin by the trash cans and plonks it on the table for people, as he sits back down. "....Stanley Padgett, and I am messing this all up already. Dang." He huffs. Anyone who's taking a moment to look will see a pretty sizable knot growing on the back of Stan's head, the bleeding mostly done. The questions from Rita though get him to perk up. "...Oh that's Jan, he's lived here for ages, I think. I'm still new to town, but Jan's uh.... he came over during the war. He's from Czechoslovakia. He sorta... takes care of all the neighborhood kids. Just... he's good, okay? He's a friend."     Ishirou gets a look, though ,and Stanley takes a breath. Looks like he was practicing this one. "...The cops are long gone, I lost them on the way back here, but I sorta took a tumble into a curb. Dumb." He grumps. "But the cops are all... they're fidgety with the big case over at the school, that I uh... I sorta." He huffs, and then reaches into his pocket to pull out a newspaper clipping. Frontpage. Top of the fold. ((+bbread 23/104))     There's a measure of frustration, glee, and accomplishment in his voice. "...I did that. I mean, I got them all free. But like... I can't just... tell people, you know? I don't think people are supposed to know about what I can do." 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' Ishirou looks over towards Sougo, "Yeah, I'm Ishirou!" he says, upbeat but he still gives Woz an eye and a bit of distance. He doesn't trust Woz. Woz has the eyes of someone who knows too much and is also dramatic. also, he calls this guy a demon king and thinks it's a good thing. Also, he's dramatic. There are so many red flags for Ishirou, there is a worker's uprising going on whenever he looks at him. Sitting down in the booth, he looks across at Stanley first. "Your head has a nasty bump on it," he says. There is also the flying box with arms floating around him. Right now it's seemingly picking up a wet nap and carrying it towards Ishirou, who starts opening it up. "Rita, maybe you want to look at it..?" he suggests, as she actually has medical training (or he suspects because of all the fretting over his own wounds she's done.) Ishirou is doing better, thank you very much! He's healing! "So...then why would the cops be after you at all? Or why would you be nervous about them? I think there are some important bits we're missing here.." When the topic of pizza comes up again, he nods once to Rita, understanding what she means. "Hmm...probably wouldn't work well, considering..." a pause, "I wonder if there is a sushi place nearby.." he considers. He looks it up on Google. Then remembering something, "Oh right so you're Sougo..?" he asks, looking at Sougo. "You don't look very demon king-y." 

:'''{{#var:7511|Timespace Riders (7511)}} has posed:'''      "Don't worry, Stanley," Sougo says assuagingly. "I'm just glad you're safe." Indeed, he reaches over and grabs a napkin from the dispenser on the table. Woz halts his hand with a firm grip, placing a sanitary wipe there instead. Wiping his hands with a small smile, the would-be king listens to Stanley talk about Jan. "Ah... yeah, I can tell. Anyone who sticks up for people like that has a good heart."      Sougo does, indeed, not look like a Demon King. No horns, or fangs, or ghastly retinues. "That's me!" he nevertheless says to Ishirou, with a sunny smile. "I think... if people like you think that I don't look like one, but people with bad hearts do... I could live with that."      Woz, meanwhile, peers intently at the newspaper clipping. "Missing students," he intones gravely. "This Hunnicutt, then, would be the principal that was mentioned." With a flourish of his free hand, he looks Stanley in the eyes, smiling confidently. "People are often afraid of excellence, dear Stanley. Especially when it is put to virtuous ends." He lowers his hand, shrugging his shoulders. "Perhaps you're right to stay quiet--at least where the common folk are concerned."      Sougo smiles brightly at Stanley. "Just because you don't feel safe yelling it from rooftops like Woz doesn't mean there aren't people you can talk to. I think... if you were willing to go through all of that for other people," he says, eyes softly glimmering, "Then I'd be glad to be your friend." 

:'''{{#var:7417|Rita Ma (7417)}} has posed:'''      "Oh! So Mr. Jan's like a public servant. I get it," Rita says, not getting it at all. At least that gets her to smile gratefully over at him, her earlier suspicion thoroughly forgotten.      Her eyebrows rise when she reads the clipping, and then her expression drops. "Mmmm. It's uncomfortable, isn't it? To have things you're proud of, or scared of, that you can't tell anyone else about. The people around you can start feeling further away."      At Ishirou's prompting, she stands up from the booth, rummages around in her little satchel, and pulls out some simple medical supplies: disinfectant, a wax cautery pencil, gauze, et cetera. "Mr. Stanley, is it okay if I have a look at the back of your head? I'll make sure it's bandaged and everything. It's just... distracting me."      While she does so (or after Stanley refuses her), she chides Ishirou: "It's rude to ask someone why the police are after them, you know. I'll be okay without sushi, though! I already ate."      Once she's seated and settled in again, she thinks to ask: "Can other people fight ghosts like you do, or are you just... doing it on your own? And what about the ghosts? Are there more of them?" 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     Stanley holds very still as people start to dote on his head injury. "...Okay sorry I guess you are missing some info, yeah, I got uh... okay so I ran out of hair dye the other week and I was short on money so uh..." A huff. "Also the school resource officer hates me cause I talked back to Mr. Hunnicut in front of him and they were trying to find reasons to put me in In School so-"     He frowns. "...do I really gotta give you my permanent record?"     His sudden rising TEENAGE REBELLION is tamped off as Rita starts to fix his head, and he holds /very/ still. "...I mean... I don't know. I mean about other people with..." He grumps. "...So they're not all ghosts, that's just like how I was trying to talk about stuff with people I didn't know, it's..." He takes his phone, and flicks the screen on. "...So there's this game that we can play here in Lampport, it's called Reversal. It's this sorta AR game where you capture city landmarks and stuff with other people and you can pay to get better units and stuff... but... there's also another Reversal. The /real/ one."     He quickly shuts up as Jan lumbers out of the door to the kitchen, drops a few pizzas on the tables nearby... and gives EVERYONE around Stanley a "I've Got My Eye On You" look, before the kitchen door slams shut again.     Stanley takes a breath, and sighs. "...So there's an ACTUAL Reversal, like the other side of Lampport, where the Shadows live, right? Where... uh, what did Igor call it... Collective... uh..." 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' "I mean if you don't want to tell us I'm not going to push.." Ishirou says, shrugging at being scolded by both Stanley AND Rita. "I was just trying to figure out how much trouble you are in, and if you needed help.." He says, slightly deflating. Sougo gets his attention, which causes him to tilt his head slightly. "I...Suppose that's a good thing.." he says, unsure of the guy who's calling themselves a Demon King. "Also, it's probably a GOOD idea to not shout your identity and that there are...ghost demon things around and sending people to ghost jail.." a pause, looking at Woz. "I mean, basically if Woz thinks it is a good idea, I'd suggest doing the reverse.." When the Reversal gets brought up, he listens. "Another...side of Lampport? Oh, a OTHER side..." 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     Lilian has been listening to the radio. She keeps it on while studying or training just to stay apprised of things, but she tends to pay more attention when it sounds like 'Ishirou getting himself intro trouble again' or 'Rita being lured into aiding and abetting terrorism again'.     She did not ask for permission to show up. Nor did she warn anybody. That would be akin to having the idea that there's anywhere she isn't allowed to go.     Even undergoing her modern arc of 'trying to dress in ways other than portraiture', she still painfully stands out; something she'd managed by simply choosing to exist around the building corner at the earliest, just in time for her to visibly open a door and jingle a little bell and establish visual confirmation that she is Here and Normal. Letting her hair down, exposing shoulders, wearing summer cross straps, and reluctantly disposing of tights, would never in a million years make up for the white-gold lily hairpin she hasn't left alone since she was given it, to say nothing of the subtle scar in such a dramatic location.     Asides, nobody who shops at a strip mall ever had a private makeup tutor, nor does any girl her age here subtly look like they curl thirty.     Two hands drop on Rita's shoulders, and the familiar voice says "I leave you alone with these people for five minutes and you're already speaking that way?" Yeah, the Received Pronunciation doesn't help either. Then she looks up across the table at Stanley. Even remaining perfectly silent for the whole three seconds it takes her to think, it is probably the most intensely anyone has ever looked at him in his life.     "Mm, maybe, if not for the disastrous dye." says Lilian, ostensibly to herself. She does not elaborate. She pulls out a seat, sits down, folds one leg over the other, and says offhandedly to Sougou "That's fine. I'd really prefer that Rita try one." A moment passes before she actually looks at him. "Wait, beg pardon? You're that 'demon king' w- person?" Her mouth hangs open by a sliver, eyes roving down his jeans and button up. Lilian shakes her head. "No. Never mind. This comes first. Ignoring the highschol drama. Haunted video game? Kidnapped children? But you've solved the case, so why are the police involved with you? Is that enormous Czech involved?"     Evidently annoyed by his verbal fumbling, Lilian folds her arms across her waist and interjects "Collective Unconsciousness. You were talking about Jung earlier." 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     Lilian CRASHES in on the humble gathering, and Stanley blinks and actually flinches out of his spot for a moment, thumping into Rita, before he slinks back to his spot. Lilian's Exacting Glare will see... a scared young man, but more in there. He's got a spine, a strong one, but it needs tempering.     Potential Hero.     "Yeah, that was it, Collective Unconcious. And there's a whole other world in there, it's all neon and smoke and shadows and..." A breath. "And it's dangerous, you gotta know what you're doing or the Shadows will try and get you."     "...and the police are involved because they can't just IGNORE 'oh, a bunch of kids that Dr. Hunnicutt reported missing are chained up in a basement of the school and he's one of the people with the key' so now they're mad and trying to find out... everything. School was a fuckin-" He huffs. "Sorry, it was an awful mess today. Cops everywhere, they dumped everyone's lockers, and I had to just... dip. I couldn't deal." 

:'''{{#var:7511|Timespace Riders (7511)}} has posed:'''      "Oh, is it?" Sougo asks Rita, on the topic of police pursuit inquiries. "I didn't know that... but it makes sense," he concludes with a serene nod.      "Thank you, Jan!" Sougo thankfully bows his head for the 'public servant' of the pizza parlor. "Wow, he made so much! I'd feel bad if any went to--"      Woz sends his scarf billowing over to one of the pizzas. It envelops the pie, folding into itself like water disappearing down a drain. As the garment returns to him, he places a hand over his heart and bows *his* head for Sougo.      "Um..." Sougo scratches the back of his head bashfully. Thankfully, Stanley provides a little more context for the Reversal, which he's more than happy to hear. "Oh! I know this! If Ishirou mentioned... it's the Collective Rambunctious!"      Woz blanches, withering in a moment of quiet as Lilian gets it right. "Unconscious, my Demon King," he quietly corrects.      "Unconscious," Sougo beams. "Eh?" Lilian asks him if he is That Demon King. "Yes, that's me--oh, alright." After a smile and a nod, "...So these Shadows are the parts of people's hearts they don't want others to see," he muses thoughtfully.      "And they wander around in the Reversal. But some people, like you..." He lets the thought trail off,that he might grab a slice, motioning for anyone else who'd like one to do the same. "Is that how you found out where the students were? Going into the Reversal to find his Shadow?" 

:'''{{#var:7494|KNK (7494)}} has posed:'''     A ninja steps out from behind Woz, as if she had been there, just out of sight, this entire time, flowing ponytail and scarf and all, and leans in to look at the newspaper clipping. "Oh, neat!"     She is not in any manner of disguise, unless 'ninja' is a disguise. There's no obvious indication of how she got there, and no indication that this is other than her true appearance. Woz's nature can at least rule out temporal causes from how she'd arrived, though that leaves a few good possibilities.     Her usual partner is not visible.     "But, hey, this place is weird, isn't it?" She frowns, taking a few moments before detailing her suspicions.     "What kind of pizza place doesn't have mushroom?" 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     "Well, better smoke and shadow than plastic and asbestos." Lilian replies, tapping her finger against the inside of her arm, leaned well back in her chair. She looks a little bit ill-at-ease here, in an ordinary place for normal working class Americans, which is to say this is the most comfortable Rita has ever seen her act in a place like this. "You didn't-- couldn't get them out of the basement? Did you simply tip off the police and book it?" What looks like the start of a smile twitches at the corner of her lips. "Oh, or was it to directly implicate this 'Hunnicutt' you detest? You might actually have promise~" she purrs.     She considers Sougou's blasé response to being incredulously fingered as a Demon King for a good while. Her hair slides gently over her shoulder as she tilts over to regard Woz. "My condolences." she says, over Sougou's head, and sounds like she means it.     "Violet~ A pleasure~" says Lilian next, apparently glad to rest her eyes on something other than chintzy tile. She begins counting on her fingers. "A poor one, one that does very little business per day, one that hates you, or one that's a money laundering scheme. Take your pick." She glances around the table. "They must at least have paper napkins . . ."     'Shadows are the parts of people's hearts they don't want others to see'     She frowns, just the slightest bit. A finger lightly touches her face, tracing the razor thin scar across the bridge of her nose, under her eye. 

:'''{{#var:7417|Rita Ma (7417)}} has posed:'''      The disinfectant stings a little, and the cautery pencil stings a little more, but when Rita's done he'll feel a decent amount better. She lets out a little sigh of relief once he's not bleeding anymore, too, and eases back down into her seat. "There. You're all- ah!!"      Lilian's hands on her shoulders nearly make her drop her iodine bottle before she can put it back in her satchel, but recognizing that voice stops her from jumping five feet in the air. Instead she sits up on her knees on the booth seat, turns around, and gives Lilian an awkwardly-positioned hug. "Ms. Rook!! You didn't say you'd be coming! Do you want some pizza, too? That's okay, isn't it, Mr. Sougo?"      She eagerly makes room for Lilian to sit next to her, of course. This achieved, she is fully content.      "Oh! Ms. Violet!" She doesn't startle quite as badly at the second appearing act, but does softly gasp in delight. "You and Ms. Rook haven't met each other outside of that video game, right? I'm glad you get to see each other in person!"      'Shadows are the parts of people's hearts they don't want others to see.'      Rita winces, and tries to hide it, almost in synchrony with Lilian.      Finally her attention returns to Stanley. "So how do you get there? To the real Reversal. And how do the people who make the video game know about it? ... Mmmm. I'm sorry. This is kind of a lot all at once, isn't it? And you've been through a lot, too." 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' Ishirou looks up to Lilian, now literally instead of just figuratively, and gives her a sunny smile. "Hello, Lilian!" He says with a smile, and coughs once, "Sorry, this is Dame Commander Lilian Rook! She's a friend of mine, and Rita's." Violet appears, which...to be fair he'd be more surprised, but it's like every time he's about to work with Xion, she does the same thing out of his shadow so he's grown a bit jaded to it! "So this other world is like...hmmm...parts of people's subconsciousness running around. I guess it's not like the OTHER sides I am used to. Though I suppose given the nature of these things that it's not impossible for another world to be created out of the minds of others.." "I wonder what causes the psychosphere to be so thin here to be able to walk into...assuming it's such a phenomenon.." 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     Stanley looks at Lilian and Rita, and realization dawns on him. "OH."     He takes a deep breath, and looks at everyone. "You get there through the game. There's a function to do it, but I think mine's the only one that can. No one else's version seems to have that button."     Big Secret time. "...The Reversal of the school was a MESS. Like, twisted and awful and shi-Stuff. Like... pieces of it were just outright glitched, like someone put bad data into a game or something. Shadows were much angrier, and I don't think they were just people Shadows. Like... something more. And I had to fight Dr. Hunnicutt's Shadow, only it was... his Shadow was Attilia the Hun. And he had all these awful horse demon things protecting him, but Mercutio and I get in, we got-" He mimes fencing motions at the table, and sweeps an invisible rapier...     And we beat his Shadow. Forced him to Go Away. And then it all broke down and sorta exploded and that's when the kids came back in the basement. Just... reappeared. I mean, on the real side. They were all trapped down there in the Reversal in like... these block things the spacy guy got put into in that old movie, you know..." He makes a noise like Han Solo being frozen in Carbonite and makes everyone feel old.     "And I checked the Reversal today at the school and it's all... as normal as that place usually is."     And it's now that his brain catches up that he's been rambling, and Stanley shrinks in his spot and shoves a slice of pizza in his face. Carbs don't ask questions and they can't be awkward. 

:'''{{#var:7511|Timespace Riders (7511)}} has posed:'''      Woz shares a quiet Moment with Lilian, nodding solemnly. The work of a retainer is demanding, indeed.      "Ha, of course it is," says Sougo to Rita, oblivious to this exchange, nodding fervently. "Especially if she's a friend of yours and Ishirou's. I haven't eaten with this many people in a long time. The more, the merrier!"      Woz, meanwhile, thumbs the spine of that book, after diligently wiping his hands. It doesn't do, to get pepperoni grease on temporal artifacts. "A game with hidden depths, farther than the average eye might ever see," ponders the retainer thoughtfully. Sougo, who is 19, and Woz, who is from an indeterminate part of the near future, look blankly at Stanley when he pantomimes carbonite. Then each other.      Sougo smiles, and pulls out a futuristic-looking pocketwatch. The face and bezel are colorful, pinks and greens and oranges in a kind of vaguely retro-90s scheme. The bottom portion of the face reads AU24 in liquid crystal display font--six years ago. "I have the power of someone who's really good at games," he says with a small smile. "And I'm pretty good at seeing people's hearts. If something like this happens again..." Sougo looks from the watch to Stanley, smiling. "You and Mercutio can count on me to be there. Um..."      Sougo's good-natured smile nevertheless displays some mild perplexment. "Who's Mercutio?" he asks, repeating Stanley's sword-fight gesture. 

:'''{{#var:7494|KNK (7494)}} has posed:'''     "Hey, Rita!" Violet gives her a wave. She's almost completely covered up, long gloves included, but doing that in August still doesn't seem to bother her.     "And Lilian, too. Oh, you look pretty similar, huh? Just without the nubs. You know, the nubb--" She's soon distracted by actually getting her hands on pepperoni pizza, which she digs into while pulling up a seat near Sougo, thus implicitly confirming Woz's assumption.     Rose is certainly 'somewhere nearby,' though well-hidden and far enough away that someone could spend hours, if not weeks, looking for her. She hasn't said anything on the radio, even after being mentioned.     For her own part, Violet looks considerably different from her avatar, not having the leather armor, and not having any visible weapon, and her outfit being as loud as it is. She is almost certainly recording everything, herself, but has no idea what Lilian was getting at about that.     "Oh, it's almost like real meat! I guess they can't be doing that poorly."     After listening to the explanation, and having no idea which movies are being referenced, Violet asks, "Is an unconscious world like a dream world? It sounds pretty fake, but also kind of cool? Hmm, but are you really the only one in there? Maybe it's just a big secret. I bet I'd keep it a secret, if I could do that" 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     MORE PEOPLE! Stanley looks up with his mouth full of pizza, swallows and waves to Violet. "...Hi, I'm Stanley. I didn't think I'd uh.... the phone said make friends and this is a lot of uh.... a lot of people."     Sougo asks the right question though, and... and Stanley puffs up a bit. "Oh uh..." He coughs. "Mercutio is my Persona." A blink. "It's what happens if you sort things out properly with your Shadow, I guess?"     He looks at the big crowd of people, and then lets out a careful breath. "...I'm not sure if I'm supposed to let it out here, with people around, or inside of the pizza place. Or on this side of the Reversal." 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' Ishirou grabs a slice of pepperoni and starts eating. He's mostly listening as people talk, and deciding to move to a more listening role as things are explained. He puts this all together in his brain, hopefully, he can get a report or something together later. "It...it is meat, Violet..." he says, confused at why it wouldn't be real meat. Though he does look at her, "You do look the same as in the game.." he almost loses it when she says nubs and looks back towards Lilian trying to hide his laughing smile. "Persona..? That seems familiar somehow. He thinks out loud and seems to be searching for something. "Persona, Persona, Persona.." he muses. 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     Of course Lilian will set next to Rita. Not doing that much would just be cruel. "Indeed, where are my manners. It's as Ishirou says. Dame Commander Lilian Isabelle Rook, of various qualifications that currently have no bearing here, just yet. I will admit that I did want to make certain he wasn't breaking his bones again, but short of offending the Czech, that seems unlikely."     She squints at Stanley. Incapable of projecting a single innocent emotion, she does it with chin tilted, cheek turned, eyes narrowed, and lip slightly curled. "Don't get any funny ideas." It's too menacing for such a minor faux pas.     Reaching for a slice of pizza, Lilian first makes to fold up some cheap paper napkin to protect her fingers from grease (huh, she has them painted, black with faint dusty gold ripples) and, after a bracing breath, takes a bite. Chewing it thoughtfully for a little while, she swallows, makes a slightly annoyed sigh, and then reaches for some crushed pepper and parmesan sprinkle. "I'll admit, I expected much worse. Go on Rita. You should try some as well. It'll be fine. Like the tea." Making no expression that would betray what that means, she remarks to Violet "Technically, it is. Just machine-separated meat, blended together, spiced, and compressed into a tube. Prime cuts are sort of a waste on pizza." She inspects a slice. "Maybe with some oregano . . . Ah, but please let Rose know that lurking around in private and recording me is utterly forbidden~ She can join us or she can go away, not hover around the middle like an awkward teen boy at prom." Chomp. "Jesus Christ, and stop using that word! They have tines in the first place! And can't you tell? I'm obviously far more gorgeous in real life."     When Stanley resumes, Lilian leans over to Ishirou, and whispers "What movie is he talking about?"     A moment passes. "We can always disable the camera, or block up the windows. I'm not bothering with magic for this, though. Are you really that afraid of people knowing you have power? We're the only ones here. It should be fine, by the Ninth." Chomp. "Of course the manifestation of a highschool would be a miserable hellhole in the collective subconsciousness. Have you any idea how much teenaged angst and envy and resentment stews in one of those public hives?" Chomp. "Nary a clue why your teacher would somehow be connected to the the Hun, though." She looks back at Ishirou, at the mention of 'reappearing'. "Doesn't that sound like Adachi's awful television game?" 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' Ishirou leans back, "I think either Romeo and Juliet...or Star Wars. Honestly, they're pretty similar stories if you think about it." 

:'''{{#var:7494|KNK (7494)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, right!" the ninja claps her hands together, making a completely normal glove-clapping noise and not one weighted by an unusual body density. "I'm Violet. Guess I forgot to mention. Or did I?"     Turning from Stanley to Lilian, she says, "Okay!" and is completely silent, and almost completely still, for about three seconds, before continuing. "She said, 'fuck you.'" She doesn't bother to change her intonation to fully capture Rose's manner of speaking, which wouldn't go with her smiling expression, anyway.     After a few moments, "What's wrong with huns?" That might not be translating correctly. 

:'''{{#var:7417|Rita Ma (7417)}} has posed:'''      "The nubblies," Rita says, giving Violet a knowing and very earnest nod. "I'm sad Ms. Rook doesn't have them here, too."      Later: "If Shadows are the darker parts of your heart, and 'Mercutio' is your Shadow that you made friends with, then... you must have a really strong heart, right? If even the dark parts of it aren't all bad. And if you can forgive yourself like that." Rita smiles at Stanley. There's a slightly forlorn note in it.      That bit of melancholy is wiped away first by confusion, and then by delight. "Like the tea...? Oh! Thank you, Ms. Rook!" That gives her permission to plate herself up some right away. She absolutely destroys a slice with rapidity that brings to mind factoids about piranha and cows, but at least has the decency to wait a little while before serving herself a second one.      While she's taking a breather between slices, she asks: "Mr. Stanley, if there's problems here with more Shadows, it'd be good if we could help you, right? Is there any way for you to take other people with you to the Reversal?" 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     Lilian tilts her head slowly, putting a fingertip on her chin, and nodding slowly in regards to Violet's answer. "I see, I see." she says. "So she's like that."     Lilian gets up.     Lilian walks to the door.     Lilian opens the door.     Lilian leans outside.     Lilian raises her voice at the building across the street.     "Fuck me yourself, you coward!"     Lilian turns on her heel and slams the door behind her.     The click click click of heels returns to the booth, the squeak of cheap pleather cushioning announcing the realignment of her weight. "If only we were all so fortunate." Lilian says to Rita, as if she hadn't exited the conversation at all, now focusing on ensuring Rita's dining experience. "And stop calling them-- wait, why do you want them here?!" 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     ....Miss Lilian, possibly the scariest person here besides Jan, seems to think this will be okay. Stanley lets out a breath, and then gets up from his spot to head over to the bike rack. He reaches in and pulls out a long case, which he zips open to pull out... a fencing sabre. Like, a real one, not a training one.     He smiles vaguely at the rest of the group... takes a breath, and murmurs out.     "Per..."         So...             Na~"     There's a muted flash of color at Stanley's feet, that bursts out up and around him like a... like a neon light skittering through a glass tube as it activates. And around Stanley's body spirals up a costume. Imagine if someone went to your local ren-faire, bought a full set of light armor, mail and leathers and such, and then brought it home and had Lisa Frank puke neon colors all over it. That's what Stanley looks like. Garish, bold, and certainly not the scared young boy he was 10 seconds ago.     Also the towering neon white and blue faceless man in a gambeson carrying a rapier and a flintlock that sprouts over Stanley's head a moment before vanishing.     The pink hair actually fits Stanley now, and he poses for the group, trying to look cool.     Oh Stanley. 

:'''{{#var:7494|KNK (7494)}} has posed:'''     No one responds to Lilian's challenge. Unfortunately, being easy to draw out of hiding isn't among Rose's weaknesses, even if she thought it was safe to touch Lilian, which it very obviously isn't. Violet waits patiently for her return, still smiling, except when she's nibbling pizza, or mumbling about 'mushroom meat.'     And then Stanley does his thing.     "Ohhh!" Violet applauds, with the wide-eyed wonder of someone who has no idea what just happened but is there to enjoy the show.     Things she's already been told and/or heard repeatedly only start slowly clicking sometime afterward. "Persona? Darkness in hearts? Huh, doesn't Xion talk about that sometimes? Oh, but how did a phone game do that? Or did a phone game do that? Is it an augmentation thing? Or a projection? Or..." Her head tilts while she checks for hidden holographic projectors. 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' The transformation happens, revealing the ghost in all of its cool glory. Of course, this means that while this was happening, Ishirou was scanning every square inch of Stanley and his persona to try and understand what he was seeing better. POD, floating and holding a piece of pizza, drops it in front of Ishirou to also help with scanning. "That's...interesting," trying to hold back a chuckle at Stanley's posing. "It's just like Go.." he says, with a bit of a giggle. "So a Persona is...this, and it's formed from coming into an agreement or resolution with your Shadow..? A phone app gives you, for some reason, access into another world which seems to be the collection of human consciousness..." Though when Violet mentions stuff Xion has said, he nods. "She does say that a lot. Maybe she'll have more insight into all of this. Though Persona as a term seems /familiar/." He also spends a moment to try and hack Stanley's phone to see if he can get a copy of his phone app and mess around with it. 

:'''{{#var:7511|Timespace Riders (7511)}} has posed:'''      "Attila the Hun ruled a people called the Huns," Sougo explains to Violet. "And Ostrogoths... Alans... Bulgars... he ruled over a lot, actually!" His helpful smile dims somewhat. "But he was also really scary. He took things by force, pretty often, and attacked pretty much whoever he felt like. People either had to pay up or fight him off. So..." Sougo frowns. "It makes sense that someone wouldn't want others to know that's how they really were, inside."      His somber reflection is shattered with the arrival of Stanley's wonderfully garish armor--and the towering Persona behind him. "Ouhh!" He cries excitedly. "So cool!" Sougo can't help pointing at the pose, forgetting himself for a moment before he lowers his voice. "Stanley..."      Sougo steps out of the booth, grinning. "I've got a good feeling about this! Your armor... that and Mercutio, they're the shape of your heart, aren't they?" His eyes twinkle with admiration.      "You remind me of someone I met, once--someone with a strong heart, like yours. That's why I've decided..." Sougo extends his hand to the gaily-armored, pink-haired boy. "We're going to be good friends!" For the second time, Sougo extends a hand, but if Stanley accepts, he'll find both of Sougo's grasp his, shaking more firmly than before. 

:'''{{#var:7417|Rita Ma (7417)}} has posed:'''      "Huh? Because they're really cute, Ms. Rook! They suit you a whole whole lot! And you really liked it when I touched them, didn't you? I want to have more ways to make you happy, like you make me happy."      That's a terrifying way to put it, but given that Rita's currently eating ensorcelled pizza courtesy of Lilian herself, it's presently a little harder to argue against.      Both of Rita's hands go over her mouth when Stanley does his transformation sequence, her eyes wide and practically sparkling. "Wow! That's incredible, Mr. Stanley! Is that the shape of your heart? Is it solid? Can I touch it?" (She does, in fact, get up from the table and very gingerly poke the armor's shoulder if allowed.) "It looks amazing with your hair!"      Once she's seated again, she adds: "That really big thing was your Persona, wasn't it? 'Mercutio'. Can I say hi to Mercutio? Or is it more like... just part of you, that doesn't talk?" 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     Lilian's interest visibly increases by about fifty percent when Stanley brings out a sword. Her eyebrows disappear into her bangs, and a sly grin creeps up the corner of her mouth. "You would be the type, wouldn't you? Ah, but I suppose it's hardly that easy to find anything else in America. Do tell me if you need a recommendation for proper steel, though that model is far too light for my personal taste."     She beholds his transformation silently, fingers laced over her knee, but she just sort of seems to be the type to do that. Given a moment for him to say anything, she quietly hums to herself, then says "I can see what you were going with that dye attempt now. Well, I can hardly blame a man for wanting to dress like his birthright, stolen by the advent of the Frenchman. But that certainly does appear . . ."     "Useful. And you fought like that? How much experience do you have?"     Lilian shrugs lightly in Ishirou's direction. "Stranger things have happened." Then to Rita and Violet, "No, this doesn't seem anything like anything to do with Castle Oblivion, or that business with 'Heartless'. But Xion is . . . perhaps something of an expert on this as well. Inner darkness. Sides and facets of people. Choosing and confronting." She scoffs at Sougo. "You can't simply walk up to someone and assign yourself as their friend. What happened to becoming King?"     A cold shiver runs up Lilian's spine at hearing Rita's innocent declaration. "Of course they don't suit me. I know you've barely ever seen a terrestrial mammal, but even without knowing that much, you should at least think of aesthetics!" A beat. "And you shouldn't try to touch every new part of people you meet!" 

:'''{{#var:7417|Rita Ma (7417)}} has posed:'''      "But I asked if I could touch them, Ms. Rook," Rita says innocently. "And you said yes, didn't you?" 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     "You should really take some responsibility for how difficult you are to say 'no' to." Lilian huffs. "If I had antlers all the time then people would stare. And make assumptions." 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' Ishirou, still looking at Stanley very firmly, speaks up to Lilian, "You mean to say that people don't already do that?" 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     Aw, jeez people are COMPLIMENTING STANLEY. There's a little flutter in the boy's chest, as he swishes his sabre once or twice, and then sheathes it again. Rita and Sougo get a happy grin. "...That's what Igor and Delilah tell me. They're my guides, sort of. I can introduce you sometime if you want..."     He reaches out that hand to Sougo, and clasps it, smiling. This is the most brilliant look any of you have seen on Stanley all night. A /friend/. "...Sure, thanks, I... I've been..." He huffs, and sighs. "It's fine, yes, thank you. I accept."     Rita touching the armor will find it... very tactile. It's real alright, though it doesn't quite feel like real leather. Something /off/ about it. Stanley puffs up again. "...I guess, this is just something inside of me, you know, I... I had to do a LOT of Shakespear in school. Love, friendship, charity, are subjects all To envious and calumniating time. I am very happy to meet you..."     And then Stanley releases the energy, and all of the trappings evaporate around him like motes of xenon and argon. "...Thanks for the offer, Miss Lilian, but... this is my mother's sword, and... I... No, I'm going to keep it, thanks." Oh ho.     If Stanley's noticing I4's fishing around in his phone, he isn't mentioning it. 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     "Very different sorts of assumptions, Ishirou." says Lilian, with the vocal tone of a knife pressed into the back of his neck. "You really can be a nasty little boy sometimes, you know?"     Now she just looks sort of put off that Sougo's innocent little boy friendship, by cotrast, actually worked. "Your mother's sword, hm? Well, far be it for me to criticize the attachment to an heirloom." Her fingers loosely fiddle with the thin black chain around her neck. "Oh well. If it's pyshic nonsense, you'll be fine."     "And as far as influences go, you could certainly do far, far worse than the Bard." 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' Ishirou pales a little bit at the very...knife-like tone of Lilian, followed up by the 'nasty little boy' phrase. "W-what? I was...what?" He isn't sure what happened, and how they got here, but now he's both slightly afraid and very confused. He also starts clamming up very tightly. He also digs around in the phone for the app that was telling him to do things...like make friends. 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     Stanley puffs up at the compliments to the Bard and then makes a face. "...so like... I've been at 9 different schools since 1st grade, and in the last..." He ticks his fingers. "...5 of them, one of my classes has always been studying Shakespeare. So... I'm getting pretty good at it?" A slightly lopsides smile...     And then the phone rings. Stanley huffs, and goes to pick it up. The contact is named 'Uncle Sid'.     Sid: "Hey, kid, you didn't go to the apartment tonight. Did the cops talk to you?     Stanley sighs, and makes the 'i need to talk' face to everyone ,and wanders over to the corner of the room. "...No I didn't talk to the cops, Uncle Sid, I swear. They're just being mad about Dr. Hun is all."     Sid: "Good, good. Get home when you can, I gotta lock the place up before my next appointment comes through."     Stanley makes another face, and sighs. "...This late?"     Sid: "I don't tell you how to run your business, don't you fuckin' tell me how to run mine. Go to the apartment."     Stanley grumbles. "Yes, Uncle Sid." Sid hangs up on the other side of the phone and Stanley just... wilts.     A look to all these important otherworldly people, and he makes plaintive teenage gestures. "...I... I gotta go, guys it's very nice to have met you all, I... you..."     He holds up his phone. "I can call and talk with you guys still, right?" A hopeful, horrible desperate gleam in Stanley's eyes. 

:'''{{#var:7417|Rita Ma (7417)}} has posed:'''      Rita seems entranced by the texture of the leather until Stanley snaps her out of it. She pulls her hand back sheepishly. "Oh- Igor and Delilah? How do you mean, 'your guides'? Like, to the Reversal?"      When Stanley retreats to take the phone call, she just looks helplessly baffled. Stressful family dynamics are completely out of her purview. At the end, she puts on a sympathetic-confused smile and nods.      "Yeah! I'd love to stay in touch with you, Mr. Stanley. Thank you! And if you ever need help with all of this Shadow stuff, or anything, just... give us a call, okay? I know there's lots of people who'd be happy to. You don't have to do it alone."      After several moments pass, something finally occurs to her. "Hey, Ms. Rook? What kind of 'assumptions' did you mean?" 

:'''{{#var:7494|KNK (7494)}} has posed:'''     "Oh, sure! See you later, Stanley!"     She flicks her fingers, and they're now holding a business card. A physical, cardstock business card. It has multiversal contact numbers, should he look at it, and doesn't say 'Violet.' It instead says KNK, with what might be Chinese underneath it, and lists the business as 'Syndicate-accredited' for Infiltration, Extraction and Assassination.     Violet gives another little smile and a wave before she gets up to go, though she never visibly reaches the door before she's gone. 

:'''{{#var:7132|Ishirou (7132)}} has posed:''' Ishirou seems to be picking through things in his mind. A little less pale than he was a few moments ago. So a push notification...and the person looks... Wow, is that an elevator attendant outfit? So this 'Delilah' is sending push notifications through the app on the phone, even though the app isn't reporting it... Ishirou makes a sigh, hearing the conversation thanks to being both inside the phone, and having really good hearing. He looks a bit distressed by this but holds it together. He knows that conversational tone, he knows that feeling Stanley has. "Nice to meet you too, Stanley...and sure. If I'm around I'll chat!" 

:'''{{#var:7511|Timespace Riders (7511)}} has posed:'''      "Not just king," says Sougo warmly to Lilian, smiling over his shoulder. "The greatest, kindest Demon King. How can you be kind, if you don't make any friends?"      When he pulls his hand back from the gesture, Sougo finds a new, different-looking pocketwatch in his hand. "Huh..." The LCD font reads AU30, beneath a stylized cameo of pink and blue. Sougo presses the crown, and the watch announces, PADGETT! The cameo shifts, revealing an illustrated depiction of Stanley, with one half of his face bearing Mercutio's blue and the other showing his grin and pink hair.      "Most impressive, my Demon King," Woz says with an arch smile.      Sougo's smile dims, slightly, after overhearing Stanley's side of the phone conversation. "So soon?" he asks. "Oh! Yes," says Sougo, beaming at Stanley. "Of course you can talk to us! Here," he offers, pulling out a weirdly shaped phone which reads SMART BRAIN on the edge. He bleep-bleep-bleeps his number onto the display, showing it to Stanley. 

:'''{{#var:7513|Stanley Padgett (7513)}} has posed:'''     Stanley pulls away from the group, and heads out the door. The young Fool slings that sabre back into its case, over his shoulder and neatly leaps the 5 feet down from the back stairs to the street below, and starts to scamper away.     Social Link Established: Multiversal Elites.     Wheel of Fortune - Rank 1 
}}

Stanley Padgett

2022-08-29T23:22:12Z

Phuzzy:

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=Stanley Padgett
|Color=#0099FF
|Char_id=7513
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/mPOuMWum.jpg
|FullName=Stanley Marigold Padgett
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human
|Theme=Persona: Neon Legacy-1
|Chartype=OC
|Active=Active
|Function=Rust Belt Fool of Hope
|Faction=Unaffiliated
|Rank=NA
|Ranktype=Unaffiliated
|Quote="...I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain..."
|PAge=17
|AAge=17
|Aging=Yes
|Height=5'8"
|Weight=140lbs
|Hair=Currently Pink
|Eyes=Amber
|Profile=Stanley Marigold Padgett is nobody's hero. Homeless, drifting from family to family, never in place long enough to find the connections that make a person grounded. Or at least that's how he should have been until his "fortunate" awakening to his powers as a wielder of Persona, an ability that manifests his soul as a tangible force of nature. With it, he's able to perceive the unreal, fight back against the burgeoning Shadows of his new home of Lampport, and maybe, just maybe, save everyone he knows. Will Stanley and his Persona Mercutio be able to make the connections necessary to bridge the gap between the Real and the Reversed sides of Lampport and save a city from ruin, or will he be shattered on the rubble of rusted-out foundries and broken dreams of American Greatness?
|Defining=MERCUTIO:
Mercutio is Stanley's Persona and the physical and metaphysical representation of his True Self. Mercutio is a faceless, lanky, limber being clad in garish neon blue and white leather armor, carrying a longsword and a flintlock pistol. He manifests separately from Stanley and is the source of the young man's powers, both inside the Reversal and outside of it.
Combat Options···: Mercutio and Stanley can use many attacks in melee. Mercutio's massive sword can slice through defenses and confound attackers, and the flintlock pistol can launch blasts of wind and fire to blister his foes in more than one way. Stanley carries a rapier and dagger in combat and is good at slipping past defenses, getting in range, and going for close attacks.
Strength··, Speed···, Toughness··: Mercutio empowers Stanley to move faster, strike harder, and take punishment thanks to the mystical bonds of the Persona. Damage that could kill or maim most teens is blunted away through the Persona's aura, and Stanley's raw strength is enough to shove around boulders, debris, and large Shadows with relative ease.
Debilitation···, Field Shaping··: Mercutio is capable of throwing down fields of toxic gas, and imparting the same toxins on its and Stanley's blades. It's a pox upon all houses and can seep through barriers and cause continuing damage, blindness, and paralysis.
Mind Control··: When Stanley and Mercutio want a fight, they can get one. Psychically enhanced taunts, barbs, and insults can force opponents to fixate on Stanley and attempt to take out the brave fencer one on one. He'll bite his thumb at you, sir.
Buffs·: While not the best at support, Mercutio and Stanley can give themselves and their allies a bit more pep in their step and help them out avoiding some of the damage coming their way.
Resistance - Toxic··, Extraordinary Senses - Magic·

BRAVE FENCER STANLEY:
One of the few stable things Stanley had in his life was his hobby of fencing, and with the appearance of Mercutio to back him up, that hobby has blossomed into a full-blown art form.
Weapon Mastery - Fencing···: Stanley's former hobby has become a full-blown art style, thanks to the ancestral memory of his Persona. He is nimble, fast, and keen with rapier and dagger and can fiddle his way under his enemy's guards, whittle away at their defenses, and go for a decisive strike to put them down.
Teleportation·: Stanley can skip back and forth through reality, and maneuver himself into just the right positions for a strike... and also out of harm's way when something goes wrong.
Illusions·: Stanley can create after images of himself during combat, giving him cover and diversionary options when he's either moving to engage or disengaging. They are unable to take more than a single hit and last just long enough to confuse people.

THE REVERSAL:
The Reversal is the Other Side of reality, a haphazard recreation of our world, made up of the thoughts, memories, dreams, and desires of all of humanity. It is also a world of danger, populated by Shadows, the manifestation of negative human emotions.
Teleportation··: Field Shaping·: Stanley accesses the Reversal through the use of a gacha game on his phone, and can traverse in and out from any place that's been denoted as a Control Point in the game itself. These are usually monuments or important places that serve as anchors for The Game. Stanley can bring a few people with him on his way in or out.
Healing·, Cure·: Stanley has access to The Velvet Room, a place of rest and respite inside of the Reversal. It takes the form of an oddly blue and well-appointed city bus, and is extremely comfortable and accommodating. Anyone who spends time in the Velvet Room will be able to rest and recuperate at a faster rate than they could normally.
|Significant=PETIT HOODLUM:
Having spent his youth as one step above a street kid has forced Stanley to pick up some habits and survival tactics to keep himself safe, out of trouble, and most importantly out of juvie. Some of these habits are good, some are not.
Entry Methods··, Stealth··: Stanley is used to getting into places he's not supposed to be. He knows how to easily spot and beat weaknesses in basic building security, carries or can jerry-rig entry tools, and can get around and wriggle his way into places adult-sized people probably can't.
Hint·: Stanley's got a sixth sense at reading people's intentions and trying to spot who's going to be trouble, and who's angling for a fight. More recently, he's been putting this skill to good use in finding people who need help or support of their own.
Mobility·: Stanley learned basic parkour, simply out of the necessity of scampering away from trouble at high speed, over fences, under benches, and generally putting distance between himself and whatever or whoever is after him.
Extraordinary Senses - Auditory·

STUDENT OF THE BARD:
Knowledge - Shakespearean Theater: For some inane reason, every time he's changed schools, every single time the English courses have been in the middle of studying Shakespeare. He's gotten good at playing his parts.
Skill - Theater Technician: Stanley is never quite able to join a school in time to be on stage for theater productions, but he's happy to hang out backstage, build sets, goof off, and try to make a few friends before inevitably changing schools again.
|Disadvantages=LONESOME HERO: Stanley has a crippling fear of being Left Out. After years of being forced to drift from home to home, place to place by his father, he is starting to finally piece his life together, stitch together a patchwork network of friends and stabilize something for himself. And for him to lose that would break him utterly. This drives him to try to connect with people and blinds him to their flaws or even their bad intentions if they extend what appears to be an honest friendship to him. The fact that people turn on him, exploit that goodwill, or even betray him is a blindspot for Stanley. Those betrayals and double-crosses can drive him into bad decisions, like taking on challenges he's not ready for or leaving him open to more harm as he tries to fix the connection. Anyone able to completely cut him off from his friends and companions or forcefully compel isolation on Stanley would have a scared boy on their hands, rather than a proud and capable Persona-user.
}}

Stanley Padgett

2022-08-29T23:21:40Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{CharacterRedux |NameOnMUSH=Stanley Padgett |Color=#0099FF |Char_id=7513 |Img=https://imgur.com/mPOuMWu |FullName=Stanley Marigold Padgett |Gender=Male |Species=Human |Theme=..."

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=Stanley Padgett
|Color=#0099FF
|Char_id=7513
|Img=https://imgur.com/mPOuMWu
|FullName=Stanley Marigold Padgett
|Gender=Male
|Species=Human
|Theme=Persona: Neon Legacy-1
|Chartype=OC
|Active=Active
|Function=Rust Belt Fool of Hope
|Faction=Unaffiliated
|Rank=NA
|Ranktype=Unaffiliated
|Quote="...I talk of dreams, Which are the children of an idle brain..."
|PAge=17
|AAge=17
|Aging=Yes
|Height=5'8"
|Weight=140lbs
|Hair=Currently Pink
|Eyes=Amber
|Profile=Stanley Marigold Padgett is nobody's hero. Homeless, drifting from family to family, never in place long enough to find the connections that make a person grounded. Or at least that's how he should have been until his "fortunate" awakening to his powers as a wielder of Persona, an ability that manifests his soul as a tangible force of nature. With it, he's able to perceive the unreal, fight back against the burgeoning Shadows of his new home of Lampport, and maybe, just maybe, save everyone he knows. Will Stanley and his Persona Mercutio be able to make the connections necessary to bridge the gap between the Real and the Reversed sides of Lampport and save a city from ruin, or will he be shattered on the rubble of rusted-out foundries and broken dreams of American Greatness?
|Defining=MERCUTIO:
Mercutio is Stanley's Persona and the physical and metaphysical representation of his True Self. Mercutio is a faceless, lanky, limber being clad in garish neon blue and white leather armor, carrying a longsword and a flintlock pistol. He manifests separately from Stanley and is the source of the young man's powers, both inside the Reversal and outside of it.
Combat Options···: Mercutio and Stanley can use many attacks in melee. Mercutio's massive sword can slice through defenses and confound attackers, and the flintlock pistol can launch blasts of wind and fire to blister his foes in more than one way. Stanley carries a rapier and dagger in combat and is good at slipping past defenses, getting in range, and going for close attacks.
Strength··, Speed···, Toughness··: Mercutio empowers Stanley to move faster, strike harder, and take punishment thanks to the mystical bonds of the Persona. Damage that could kill or maim most teens is blunted away through the Persona's aura, and Stanley's raw strength is enough to shove around boulders, debris, and large Shadows with relative ease.
Debilitation···, Field Shaping··: Mercutio is capable of throwing down fields of toxic gas, and imparting the same toxins on its and Stanley's blades. It's a pox upon all houses and can seep through barriers and cause continuing damage, blindness, and paralysis.
Mind Control··: When Stanley and Mercutio want a fight, they can get one. Psychically enhanced taunts, barbs, and insults can force opponents to fixate on Stanley and attempt to take out the brave fencer one on one. He'll bite his thumb at you, sir.
Buffs·: While not the best at support, Mercutio and Stanley can give themselves and their allies a bit more pep in their step and help them out avoiding some of the damage coming their way.
Resistance - Toxic··, Extraordinary Senses - Magic·

BRAVE FENCER STANLEY:
One of the few stable things Stanley had in his life was his hobby of fencing, and with the appearance of Mercutio to back him up, that hobby has blossomed into a full-blown art form.
Weapon Mastery - Fencing···: Stanley's former hobby has become a full-blown art style, thanks to the ancestral memory of his Persona. He is nimble, fast, and keen with rapier and dagger and can fiddle his way under his enemy's guards, whittle away at their defenses, and go for a decisive strike to put them down.
Teleportation·: Stanley can skip back and forth through reality, and maneuver himself into just the right positions for a strike... and also out of harm's way when something goes wrong.
Illusions·: Stanley can create after images of himself during combat, giving him cover and diversionary options when he's either moving to engage or disengaging. They are unable to take more than a single hit and last just long enough to confuse people.

THE REVERSAL:
The Reversal is the Other Side of reality, a haphazard recreation of our world, made up of the thoughts, memories, dreams, and desires of all of humanity. It is also a world of danger, populated by Shadows, the manifestation of negative human emotions.
Teleportation··: Field Shaping·: Stanley accesses the Reversal through the use of a gacha game on his phone, and can traverse in and out from any place that's been denoted as a Control Point in the game itself. These are usually monuments or important places that serve as anchors for The Game. Stanley can bring a few people with him on his way in or out.
Healing·, Cure·: Stanley has access to The Velvet Room, a place of rest and respite inside of the Reversal. It takes the form of an oddly blue and well-appointed city bus, and is extremely comfortable and accommodating. Anyone who spends time in the Velvet Room will be able to rest and recuperate at a faster rate than they could normally.
|Significant=PETIT HOODLUM:
Having spent his youth as one step above a street kid has forced Stanley to pick up some habits and survival tactics to keep himself safe, out of trouble, and most importantly out of juvie. Some of these habits are good, some are not.
Entry Methods··, Stealth··: Stanley is used to getting into places he's not supposed to be. He knows how to easily spot and beat weaknesses in basic building security, carries or can jerry-rig entry tools, and can get around and wriggle his way into places adult-sized people probably can't.
Hint·: Stanley's got a sixth sense at reading people's intentions and trying to spot who's going to be trouble, and who's angling for a fight. More recently, he's been putting this skill to good use in finding people who need help or support of their own.
Mobility·: Stanley learned basic parkour, simply out of the necessity of scampering away from trouble at high speed, over fences, under benches, and generally putting distance between himself and whatever or whoever is after him.
Extraordinary Senses - Auditory·

STUDENT OF THE BARD:
Knowledge - Shakespearean Theater: For some inane reason, every time he's changed schools, every single time the English courses have been in the middle of studying Shakespeare. He's gotten good at playing his parts.
Skill - Theater Technician: Stanley is never quite able to join a school in time to be on stage for theater productions, but he's happy to hang out backstage, build sets, goof off, and try to make a few friends before inevitably changing schools again.
|Disadvantages=LONESOME HERO: Stanley has a crippling fear of being Left Out. After years of being forced to drift from home to home, place to place by his father, he is starting to finally piece his life together, stitch together a patchwork network of friends and stabilize something for himself. And for him to lose that would break him utterly. This drives him to try to connect with people and blinds him to their flaws or even their bad intentions if they extend what appears to be an honest friendship to him. The fact that people turn on him, exploit that goodwill, or even betray him is a blindspot for Stanley. Those betrayals and double-crosses can drive him into bad decisions, like taking on challenges he's not ready for or leaving him open to more harm as he tries to fix the connection. Anyone able to completely cut him off from his friends and companions or forcefully compel isolation on Stanley would have a scared boy on their hands, rather than a proud and capable Persona-user.
}}

N'raha Tia

2022-08-15T21:01:23Z

Phuzzy:

{{CharacterRedux
|NameOnMUSH=N'Raha
|Color=#0099FF
|Char_id=819
|Img=https://i.imgur.com/Kv7QZ7H.jpg
|FullName=N'raha
|Gender=Male
|Species=Miqo'te
|Theme=Final Fantasy XIV: ARR-1
|Chartype=OC
|Active=Active
|Function=Adventuring Catman
|Faction=Watch
|Rank=Member
|Ranktype=Member
|Quote="Know that I'll kill your god if I have to. Maybe even if I don't."
|PAge=Young Adult
|AAge=22
|Aging=Yes
|Height=5'8"
|Weight=140lbs
|Hair=Black
|Eyes=Green
|Profile=A brash young catman from the deserts of Eorzea, N'raha's life was turned upside down when the Garlean Empire nearly ended the world in a bid for power, and in the chaos, light was reborn. Raha found his calling by becoming one of the Warriors of Light. Now he chases an unenviable life as a war-weary troubleshooter writ large, slaying the summoned gods of the beastmen, the Primals, and seeking to restore justice to the people of Eorzea. Armed with the skills of a mighty warrior and guided by the Echo, a timeless ability to catch glimpses of far-away times and places, what future will Raha find within the Multiverse?
|Defining=The Echo:
N'Raha is a champion of a creator deity known as Hydaelyn, blessed with power known as the Echo. The specific form of Echo he possesses allows him to see snippets of past and future, and a peek into the minds of others.
Hint···: Raha gets occasional glimpses into the past and possible futures of things that are immediately pertinent to what's going on around him, and gives him some insight on how best to handle current situations and problems.
Mental Intrusion···: The ability to see other people's histories also grants Raha a peek into the minds of others, offering him insight into their state of mind, their past and present.
Intrusion Immunity···: Those blessed by the Echo are exceptionally immune to mind-controlling influences.

Blessing of Light:
The Light of Hydaelyn suffuses Raha, giving him great power and turning him into a holy warrior tasked with defeating the summoned gods of his world.
Superhumanity··: Raha's abilities and endurance have been increased to super-cat levels, making him stronger, faster, and more resilient than your average Eorzean.
|Significant=Disciple of War:
Raha is also a Warrior, a follower of the ways of axe-wielding berzerkers, a stalwart pillar to those in need of defense.
Toughness···: As a berserker, Raha channels his inner rage and fury into raw power, and is able to shrug off blows that would cripple lesser men.
Weapon Mastery - Axe···: Raha is able to weave damage and defense into his combat style, cracking armor and bones and turning aside blows as needs be. He can quickly shift from an all out assault to defending his allies.

Scion of the Seventh Dawn:
Raha is a member of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, an independent organization tasked with the identification and elimination of primals, but now more broadly tasked as what is essentially a world saving group.
NPCs, Regeneration, Share Powers··: Raha is able to call on the Crystal Braves, a squadron of mercenary warriors under the command of the Scions. They are functionally members of mid-level MMO adventuring parties, and come with healers, damage dealers, and tanks.
|Minor=Adventurer, Vagabond, Sellsword:
Hammerspace: Raha's magic allows them to store equipment and items that can be called up at a moment's notice, making himself fully armed and ready for combat.
Knowledge - Culinarian: Raha is a member of the Culinarian Guild, both because he loves food and cooking. He's equally at home at a campfire stove, or in a fancy kitchen making gourmet meals for the rich and snobby.
Survival Skills: Raha is also an angler, and loves to take a break when he can to try and land The Big One, or at least land something tasty. A cat became hungry once, and now he won't have to be ever again.
|Disadvantages=When You Have An Axe, Everything Looks Like A Rock: Being the Warrior of Light has increasingly become a strain on Raha, and intrigue after intrigue among the alliances and the Empire have left him jaded. Raha increasingly advocates for the most direct solution to problems, even when more complex solutions might yield better results in the long run. If things are taking too long, if the proposals are getting overly complex, if negotiations are stalled, he'll probably hit stuff with his axe. This can push him into dangerous situations, and fights he's not prepared for. Force over subtlety is a poor choice in delicate negotiations, or when you're trying to defuse things. In fact, it will most likely just make things worse.
}}

6963/ALLIANCE: The Center Of The Maze

2020-02-18T04:59:22Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/01/02 |Location=Crystal Tower, Eorzea |Synopsis=The Warriors of Light and their allies take on Amon, and are betrayed by Lezard Valeth and the..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/01/02
|Location=Crystal Tower, Eorzea
|Synopsis=The Warriors of Light and their allies take on Amon, and are betrayed by Lezard Valeth and the Concord
|Cast of Characters=819, 7148, 7180, 7175, 6, 598
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The place? A massive elevator in the center of the Main Foyer of the Labyrinth of the Ancients. Where once it remained in a locked position in the middle of the massive raised platform over top the Giant Cistern Of Literal Liquid Aether, now the controls have come on line, there's a bunch of Allagan text there that seems to indicate 'Press Here To Activate', and a rather anxious looking Ax Catte. N'raha is busy working a stone across the blade of Bravura, the ax already magically sharp, but, well. It pays to maintain your gear, in any case.     Off to the side, Nero and G'raha are busy with a bunch of devices and consoles and widgets that appear to have been trucked in from the Ironworks, and have them routed into ports and sockets on the side of the elevator. Almost time. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' Guzma and the Skull Trio are back, with their bandanas, hats, and bling. The white-haired Guzma steps up, several pokeballs around his waist, and approaches the Allagan text. "Alright, yo, let's get to work." And then he pushes to activate, while the rest of Team Skull dances behind him. While he's here, he does turn to Lezard when he approaches, and gives him a supportive nod. He likes Lezard, and he considers Lezard the 'ranker' here, evne if they're the same rank, since Lezard has more experience in the Concord and knowledge of 'weird magic crap'. "So, what's the plan, Valeth?" 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:''' Amelris Belthrone is being an adventurer. Which is to say, poking his nose in things that does not concern him and things that looks very shiny, interesting and likely dangerous. Such as the many screens that surrounds the massive elevator inside of it. The Red Mage is peering at the screens with much interest. His rapier is sheathed at his side, a hand on it's hilt as he observes the magiteck around them. "Very, very, very nice." The Miqo'te mutters outloud. "It's amazing that everything have been sitting here for centuries, undisturbed." He leans over to get a closer look at some of the Allagan text, smiling. "Amazing. Simply amazing." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna has been kneeling on the flagstones, her blade drawn and resting point-down on those same stones, for some time now while the party gathers, praying, or meditating, mumbling something that sounds like scraps of a song under her breath as she recenters herself after days of revelry for Starlight and Heavensturn. Fully armed and armoured, she closes her hand around the shimmering blue soulstone she's been singing softly to, and stands up. The solemn expression on her face breaks. "Don't stress." Alruna says, clapping N'raha on the shoulder with a beaming smile as she walks past to take her place on the platform, waiting patiently. She's been through here several times since the first foray, with the Adventurer's Guild, to make sure the Ironworks.../consultant/, and the other Raha, aren't jumped by any unpleasant surprises; all the wondrous Allagan technology has lost a bit of its novelty for her. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The text, as far as has been translated and noted (with some rather pointedly offworld Post-It Notes) says that there's power readings from the deeper parts of the Wings. Looks like the other teams have been working to get the main shaft back up and running, and unlocking... either actual power readings or safety switches or whatever to get the elevator up and running. It's Allagan and a dungeon, and that's esoteric, at best. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' She had told N'Raha at the new year's party? She was with him and she'd put her money where her mouth was as she'd shown up when they were called for another run. She'd left a note with the GU to where she'd runoff too. She had arrived had given Nero a look wh4n she di and was moving to fall into the group her sword dawn breaker was at her hip and she had the mourning wall with its ever-shifting names on it ready. "Geeze." She pops out her smartphone and takes a few images of things before banishing it back into her inventory. She looked ready to move out. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Lezard Valeth returns to the Crystal Tower. This Labyrinth is full of plenty of things that interest him, really the more difficult thing would be keeping him /away/. Still, the Sorceror of Midgard sweeps in through the entranceway once more, smiling at the sight of the churning liquid aether roiling below the platforms.     His gaze hangs over the little station where Nero and his assistant G'raha seem to be set up doing investigations, and nods to himself and does not continue to concern himself with the support.     No, instead he looks to Guzma. He returns the nod. "At this point the objective appears to be to access this overcomplicated moving platform so we may find a path into the Tower itself. Undoubtedly, it will be sealed behind yet more absurd guardians. At this point, it will be simple enough a task to follow the flood of 'heroes' and allow them to dash themselves against the cliff as it were."     His gaze turns to the axe-wielding catman, and he frowns for a moment. "I would tell you to be cautious, but you already know what to expect, I believe." He says. "No one here is going to concern themselves with your well-being. Be prepared to operate on your own at a moment's notice." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Guzma, of all people, seems to be the quickest to start things off. He presses the button, and the whole thing... shifts and shudders and starts up, moving and rumbling. Nero, for his part, smiles. It's not a polite smile. "I guess you're going now. Be sure to let us know what you find up there, by the way. And don't break too much. I know that will be.... difficult for some of you." A glare at N'raha and Amelris, specifically. Huh. I wonder what this guy has against THOSE TWO?     N'raha huffs a bit at Lezard, and bright green eyes glare at the man from under that red visor, even as he nods to Alruna and shuffles up and onto the elevator himself. It's time. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "No promises!" Amelris shouts back as the elevator starts moving, the Red Mage giving him a two-fingered salute. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe gumbles about the dragon horror from last time unaware of what might be thrown at them this time. She looks to Alruna then to N'raha. She knew N'raha was very good at his job and Alruna had left a good impression with her. So she seemed ready as she was going to be she drew her blade and would push to the front of the party and takes a look at Lezard. On one hand some of the best damn fire-support in the multiverse. On the other, it's Lezard Valeth. She would just have to deal and away she goes for the lift not wanting to end up left behind. Well there was one thing that she thought of she'd get to see both Amelris and Alruna in action today. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The elevator shudders... and starts to move upwards. Up and up, through the sky, a floating, rail-less platform, rising up into the vaulted ceiling, and up through a suddenly opening portal. Huh. That's interesting.     And as it slides up and into position, the light's glare fades and people are able to see... a short platform, heading off over a less roiling, but still deadly looking flow of aether fluid. It's less orange than before though, and a much more acrid looking cyan in color, maybe a different aspect? That's a question for the Eggheads, though, because what's much more clear is someone waiting for them, at the end of that pathway. The room itself is clearly a control room of some sort, with dial and gauges and floating widgets and everything, all whirring and buzzing. Much more elegant, much more Allagan than the gear downstairs. It all menaces with Ancient Intents.     The man at the center of the room, though, seems very much out of place to all that. He frankly reminds the lot of you of Amelris. He's tall. Human-ish, and Extremely Flamboyantly Dressed. Gaudy is the word of the day, his outfit bearing Magitek braiding, glowing red and blue in the light of the room. and atop his head is a gaudy, feathered chapeau. "And I see the little mice that have been scurrying about inside the tunnels have made their final entrance. Well. I shan't keep you all waiting, dear little mice. A man needs an audience after all, and this show CERTAINLY requires one." He gestures, and then holds out a hand, a sword visible under his cape. "Let's start the show, shall we?"                                     AMON                                                                 CHIEF MAGITECHNICIAN                             

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Lezard moves towards the elevator slowly, watching everyone assemble on the moving platform. Again, he looks to N'raha with a measuring gaze, only to get that glare in return. He matches the green eyes with his own stare, a smile widening as he moves to join the others. Only then, when everyone seems to be assembled, does Lezard step onto the elevator. The fact that there seems to be a couple more would-be heroes than before does not seem to concern him.     The platform rises, and Lezard steps out onto the approach only to see the Intense Flamboyance confronting him. He scowls. "What kind of absurdity is this?" He declares. He does not step into the area clearly prepared by the man to battle his opponents, instead hanging on the edge. Energy flares around him dramatically, giving his cape a flaring motion as if he is working to match the man in his own Evil Wizard way. "I was not aware that we would be met by the court jester. Explain yourself. What is your purpose here? This is a place ill fit for theatre." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna chuckles softly. She doesn't know Nero's /specific/ malus against the two catmen, but it's probably a worthwhile story. She turns her head, casting her eyes over their party, assessing. Several of these people are outlanders, so it's going to be a learning experience fighting alongside them, she muses as the elevator goes up. And they don't all seem to be on the same page, either. No introductions needed, it seems. For anyone, even the man(?) who confronts them. She pulls down her winged helmet's visor and advances, readying sword and shield. She would have to be very stupid indeed to not realise that this stranger has had plenty of time to prepare for their arrival. No, she just doesn't care. Someone's got to step on the trigger plate, after all. "On guard!" she says, surging forward with a thrusting stab, because Exposition is for Echo visions and /after/ you've beaten the hell out of someone. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      The Red Mage left with a wide, confident grin. This do not change as they head up, glancing over at the opening portal, the new colors -- colors that he spends some time pondering over, infact. He IS a Egghead, technically. As they make their way down the pathway, Amelris' attention is set on the various dials, gauges and technological menace around them. More importantly, the man at the middle of the room.      "BY THE TWELVE!" Amelris exclaims, spreading his arms and pointing at Amon. His mouth is open, agape, his eyes wide at the whole of Amon. "What have you DONE with yourself!? All of this color, it's clashing with one self! You went much too far on the Gaudy side, my friend! It's too much, /TOO MUCH/. Has your mother dressed you like this!? Tch."      Amelris drums the guard of his rapier, the gem tingling with his nails. "I do dig the hat, thought. That is some nice feathers. Quite amazing feathers, at that. He steps in after Alruna, knowing full well to let the Tanks go first, pooling his hands to begin casting. Black energy crackles out of his Rapier Rod, then launched out into unleashing a purple and red blast at Amon, spinning with a flourish to launch a second one. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The lift shudders as they head up, it up into the sky more or less she can see the place and she seems more than a little impressed at this place. That doesn't last too long though she'll leave the egghead to worry about how all this magical tech works. She only has a limited understanding of things that don't run on magic. Tomoe looks to Alruna and then to N'raha for a moment. Then to the man who has the most fabulous outfit she's ever seen native to this world. "Mice are we? Well then let's get this show on the road shall we." Tomoe knows there are two other what she'd call tanks here she makes ready to move in but Lezard is not yet attacking that makes her pause either he's sensed something she hasn't. Or he's got another plan like trying to recruit the guy into the Concord. "Hate to tell you this sir? All that's in this tower is all that remains of your people. Do you really want to /do/ this?" She's knowing there's going to be a fight but maybe there might be some answers as unlike the lower level this is clearly not an rabdi undead thing before them. With Alruna rushing in she'll rush on in as there's no stopping this fight. She charges on in poping several of her tanking abilities as she does so, lashing out with her blade the moment she gets into melee range. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' As they go up, Guzma ignores Nero because Nero was kind of a jerk to him once, and approaches. He grabs one of the yellow and black spheres on his belt, clicks the button, and throws. He's a little unnerved by the sword, but... "Vikavolt." The weird flying bug with the very long mandibles appears. It floats up, and then, as the man proclaims himself. "Tackle him." It's a test of how fast his reactions are. Vikavolt slams into him with speed, moving to tackle Amon and try and get some light damage, but mostly, give Guzma an idea of ability. Lezard has a plan, so, he needs to also keep hostilities off Lezard. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Tall Man rolls his eyes at Lezard, and then bows. "If you think me the Jester, it simply means you cannot fathom what fashion is. Should a master of a keep be as... dim and dingy and dour as you, Ser Warlock? Has your lust for power ruined your sensibilities and your color palette?" A cocky grin, and then he turns and wheels on the Heroes as they approach.     N'raha and Alruna apparently have the same idea in place as they both charge the Magitechnician and with a flourish of energy, he simply steps aside, letting the attacks slam into an aetheric barrier he lifts to parry away the blow. "Come now, both of you, such IMPATIENCE."     Amelris' magical blast, however, as well as the smashing assault from Vikavolt stagger the man, and he hisses out. "SEE? This is just as was forseen. A bunch of meddlers. Pretenders to the glory of Allag. Not once have ANY of you stopped to consider the ramifications of your actions. NOT ONE OF YOU..."     He sighs, and shifts, and straightens up again, dusting off his cloak. A moment to resettle his hat. "Waited for proper introductions. I am Amon, chief Magitechnologist of the Allagan Empire. This is MY Tower and will remain that way until I reawaken the Master. So. Please, sit back and let this all happen like the good little mice you are."     A grin. "I'm asking nicely."     He really isn't, unless raising a barrier around the party, and then lighting everyone on fire is 'asking nicely'. The Barrier is to protect the equipment, after all. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     "Tch. I have no need of taking /fashion advice/ from a dead man." Lezard retorts. As the barrier rises, Lezard simply smiles. "Predictable. Of course he would raise a powerful magical barrier to keep you away from his equipment and trap me outside of the battle." He sighs dramatically. "But you are not the only one who can play a part, jester. Give me regards to the heroes. I have matters to attend to."     At that, Lezard turns, flourishing his cape once more as the circle of his teleportation spell draws itself around him, the Sorceror of Midgard vanishing... elsewhere?     As for where, that will become apparent shortly. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Well, that's not a great start!      The fire blasts through the arena. Amelris, certainly, try to avoid it in his usual way: by moving in a grandios way. It does not work. Instead, a surprise amount of fire is unleashed and, while he do avoid his original intended fireball, he does land squarely into another one. This has the obvious effect.      Amelris picks himself up, grunting to himself as he dusts his clothing and taps to get some of the burning flames out. "I'll be honest, that WAS quite rude of us. So, do tell us about /your Master/ if you're so inclined! We don't have all day!"      Amelris' floating gem, held a few inches above his outstretched palm next to him, is pooled again at the base of his rapier to form the Rod. A moment is taken to notice Lezard is gone.      Damnit. He should've suspected that a wizard was untrustworthy. After all, he, too, is a wizard. He should know.      He focuses on his casting, taking small steps as he unleash out a large fireball headed at Amon's way, take a small stepping hop to the side, spinning his Rapier Staff to unleash out a large stone, ripped from the.. very metal ground, also aimed at Amon. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's blade is turned aside by a glittering forcefield. Not a big surprise. *FOOOM* She hunkers down to defend herself from his response. Flame divides around her shield, the heat licking at the edges of her armour with unpleasant eagerness, but the magic fire finds no purchase. When it clears, Alruna straightens up and exhales, bearing down on Amon at a steady pace. "I've never met a man I cared for who let monsters roam in their cellar." she says glibly, channeling her energy into her weapon to slash again at the shield protecting Amon. She can enervate it or simply break it down with enough strength, either will accomplish the purpose of giving her allies the opening they need. She ducks back out of the way as the next salvo of fire and lightning answers Amon in kind, and then charges forwards again with her shield forward, slamming it against his defences. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' A barrier appears, and a fire blasts out. If Lezard hadn't warned Guzma he was doing something, Guzma would be shocked at him disappearing. The three Team Skull Grunts join him, as they throw out their pokeballs, releasing Zubat, Garbodor, and Salandit, the bat, garbage bag, and lizard pokemon. "Group attack!" Tupp shouts out, as the three call out "Venoshock!" Guzma, meanwhile, shouts. "Thunder Cannon." Purple poison blasts at Amon, as the Vikavolt charges lightning between its mandibles, and fires a massive streaking ray of lightning straight at Amon. As this happens, the poison seeping in hopefully into Amon, Lezard gets to work. Guzma eyes his 'allies', and makes sure they don't get in any attacks on him out of anger, too. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The good news is they have been able to get Amon's attention. The bad news is Lezard has checked so out it's silly what is he up to? She has no idea other than he has to have a plan. Lezard isn't just one to show up, bail and do nothing. She can't worry about that now as for a brief moment she's now /set/ on both lighting and fire. Her avatar doesn't look too hot all things. She's looking a bit odd there's horrible red lines where the lighting got her and a wireframe nature in the wound as well. On Tomoe's HUD her HP bar drops not into the yellow but a bit chunk of the green is already gone. "I am Tomoe The Lily. I will note that this tower contains all the Allagans who still live." She keeps on the move now and she will turn up the heat herself and she might do something which could be unexpected to all the locals save N'raha. She chants golden runes dance about her body as she does to and then there's an explosion of fire right back at Amon and Tomoe follows that up with trying to press the attack with her blade. "You ain't the only one who can sling fire about!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Don't think he's not spotting these sorts of things, Lezard. Your absence is noted, and then there's a rather... smug smile on Amon's face as he starts to step into the other attacks. "Hmmmmm, did you all know that we made these little creatures?" He states this as Raha SLAMS his ax into Amon's side, forcing the engineer to side step and raise yet another barrier and keep his attention, at least partially, on the catman.     He also doesn't elaborate.     He does, however, start to dance around the 'stage' as it were, seemingly... stepping deliberately into attacks. The swords from Alruna and Tomoe SMASH into his cape, blistering him with energy and force. Amelris' twinned spells spatter across his chest and arm, staggering him to the side, and causing him to miss a step. Toxins from the Pokemon start to seep into his body, staining his lovely, gorgeous outfit...     At least for a second or two. Then once again the man is straightening up, and turns to focus his attention on Alruna and N'raha. "...En guarde." And he reels back, and SLASHES at the pair of them, his sword suddenly crackling with radiant, hideous energy.     The rest of the crew will suddenly find themselves under... well, less attack but rather Pestering by oozes and critters that start to burble up and out of vents in the floor. Slimes and puddings and other disgusting things that seek to ooze and restrict and distract as the Engineer moves to dismantle the party's two tanks. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The toxins and lightning slam and stain and poison, as Vikavolt pulls back. Slimes move in, oozing at them and distracting, getting their ickiness on Guzma and his team. Vikavolt rams into them to try and cut into them, but they're not going to end there. Zubat is sent down to bite into the slimes, as Vikavolt pulls back... "Poison Jab." Guzma smiles a toothy grin, and Vikavolt's mandibles glow violet with energy, as it moves to /ram/ Amon, trying to poison him further, weaken his endurance, and set him off guard with a strong strike. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' "I figured most of the creatures in the tower were made, or tamed by the Allagans yes. I must ask is what I presume the sewage system on the lowest level supposed to be filled with undead and demons?" Tomoe has seen some crazy things in her time but for some reason that just got under her skin. She seldom got to ask the people behind whatever ruin or dungeon she was crawling about just why there was something like this. She had to ask even if she doesn't get an answer also the next attack is quite swarmed by various horrible things from the lab. % She sees Alruna get the worst of the attention. She keeps tabs on Guzma, his minions Amelris, N'Raha and wonders just what Lezard is plotting. She got to deal with poison and lighting it's not very much fun and the slimes, on the other hand, will have to deal with her as she moves in to cut them down as fas as she can. "I'll handle the adds." She calls out to Alrun as she hacks slashed and throws the odd light spell into the mix of her attacks. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "No!" Amelris exclaims, Blade and Gem separating and returning into a fencer's stance, sword pointed outward and palm up, behind him. "I did NOT know that you made all of these little poor creatures! I just figured it out BY MYSELF because I have a brain! /Why would you/ is the better question!?"      The Red Mage launches himself like an arrow against one side of the 'barriered' fight, spinning his blade to return it into it's casting position and pointing a hand at a bunch of the Oozes. That's the issue when things starts ganging up on you. SOMEONE have to clean the mess up and that's usually him. N'Raha and Alruna have enough on their plate as it is already!      He twirl his blade with one hand, black energies gathering by the gem as he fling out a large ball of multi-colored energy, which explodes on impact in a calculated, beautiful octogonal shape. It is aimed at the swarm of goop and oozes, Amelris making apparently a VERY good job at staying out of their hungry, dissolving ways. Amelris deftly hops back, throwing his combined weapon up and snatching it out of the air, throwing one hand out in a flourish to unleash another explosion, this time trying to get Amon into the midst of it.      "By the way, are the feathers of that hat also from a creature you created?" 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna circles, following Amon's movement as he dances through the chamber to keep the pressure on him. "Hey, where did-" she wonders aloud belatedly, realising the headcount isn't the same as it was when they first stepped onto the elevator. Unfortunately for the tank, there are much more pressing issues she needs to deal with. The way Amon poses, half a heartbeat before his weapon crackles with deathly energy... "Look out!" Her instincts kick in, a wave of aether enveloping herself and N'raha to form a barrier that at least spares them /some/ of the brunt of whatever wicked sorcery Amon is empowering his sword with. It still rips a cry of pain out of her as Amon carves through her shield and deflects down her breastplate, driving its tip into her side. There and gone in an instant. Tendrils of unhealthy energy seep into her, lodging themselves in her body and drawing another pained, unwilling whimper. Behind her visor, Alruna's face is drawn in a rictus of pain - her glove creaks as she clenches her sword tighter. She responds in kind, a black cloud of aether lined with dancing purple radiance engulfing her sword, which she plunges into Amon's barrier, driving it forward with adrenaline and pain behind the thrust. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Hmmmmm, we made... so many things, little courl~" The words are like venom from Amon as he sneers down at Amelris, even as the Red Mage and his allies start to strike down the assorted goops and globs and oozes. They're doing their best, but clearly that's not enough. That's not to say they're not giving back though. Each little goop exploes, casting awful mess around, slobbering on most of the party as they do damage control, seeping with toxins and garbage as Amelris blasts, as Tomoe slashes.     Guzma, N'raha and Alruna seem to have the right of things though, as they all step in and make their moves against Amon directly. That Ram-Tackle-Poison from Guzma just gets another dose of Nasty in Amon's veins, but... a smile. "Oh, how the technicians will ENJOY peeling that beast apart and seeing how it ticks, mark my words, little man."     Alruna and Raha though, make a very pointed reminder to Amon that they are Still Here. Raha steps in with an angry snarl, a wave of distracting energy blasting across the arena, and Alruna's sweeping blade both dragging his attention to the forefront. "BOTHERSOME CREATURES."     Amon twirls in place, stabs his sword into the decking in a rather grotesquely similar manner to Amelris' casting techniques, and then chilling cold starts to form across the room, and... giant balls of frozen aether SLAM into the arena. Let's hope the party knows how to stay out of the bad. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' "Go stuff yourself." Guzma says, to Amon, as the giant balls of frozen aether slam in. The trainers start running, Guzma's eyes widening, as Vikavolt is slammed by the giant frozen ball and sent flying back. Ice is not good for bugs. But it still flies, even though it's chillier and hurt, one wing limping slightly, and it tries to jam those mandibles into Amon again, taking a big bite out of him! 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's fingers are numbed, her limbs sapped of warmth by Amon's Blizzaga. The worst part? It does nothing to numb the pain of the seeping wound in her side. Shuddering, she raises her shield to protect herself from the jagged iceberg about to descend, driven to one knee by the impact. Ice crashes over her shield, and her helm too, biting in ways that the fire did not, encasing her in a wintery grip. Sorry, she stood in the bad. They're all suffering, but she can see Amelris and Guzma preparing... pulling herself onto her feet again, Alruna lets out a warcry and hopes N'raha sees their cue too, telegraphing her movements from half a realm away as she lunges at Amon, delivering a back-handed slam with her shield to distract him one more time. She can be very bothersome indeed! 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      In many ways, that is just insulting!      "That's not answering the question!" Amelris snaps back, pulling his sword back into a defensive measure, lifting his caped arm as he takes a step back, trying to give himself some defense against the explosion of frozen Aether. It has ... limited effect. The Bad has been stepped on to be certain but that is difficult to avoid when Most Of Everything You Stand ON IS the 'bad'.      This results in the Miqo'te having something of a frozen problem, boots freezing, ice biting at his skin and stiffening his fur.      His ears wiggles on the sound he ears. Problems are coming up. This fight is becoming a waste of time, then.      "Alright then," Amelris mutters beneath his breath, taking a step forward, breaking the crystaline ice that accumulated on him. "You are quickly becoming a bore, Amon! Let us show you how we do things in this Astral Era!" The Red Mage shouts, spinning his weapon as he thrusts it up in the air.      The ground shakes beneath him, energy spilling out from beneath him and gathering up into his weapon. His hair jerks around by the unseen winds of aether being concentrated and gathered around them, particularly from Alruna and N'Raha as he concentrate it into visible energy in his weapon.      "FROM THE REACHES OF THE SKIES, REACH FOR A WISH UPON A COMET!"      Amelris spins his glowing weapon left and right, then slams it into the ground in a NOT grotesque mockerie of his arts, as if to show Amon how it is actually done. "I HAVE A WISH! THIS WISH IS ... STARFALL!"      Out of nowhere, above Amon, thick, massive balls of flame of rocks comes plummeting down. They explode in massive explosions, focused on the tall Engineer, pelting him a rapid fire barrage of projectiles, fueled by the combined aether gathered in the fight by people assembled here. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Amsons' creation proved to be a fairly troublesome thing but Tomoe hacks away at the problem. Hopefully, this will lead to her allies have a far less bad time in dealing with Amon. She listens as he talks about carving up Pokemon she frowns and then she looks right at him as he launches an ice spell of some sort at her. One she's cold it's so cold She's having trouble moving for a moment. She does however not stay hindered for long, she curses about how she stood in the ice. , In turn, she's dashes at Amon aiming to slam into him with her shield then launches into a Sword Art. "EARTH SPLITTER" Her blade gains a golden glow and she launches a single powerful leaping strike trying to slice all the way up Amon. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Each one of those balls of ice starts to slam into the decking, leaving a massive hulking block of frost in the field, hampering movement and making dashing around a rather dicey process. Amon is seemingly... dancing now. Sure footed and fleet, even as he crashes into attacks, bashes against the party. There's even a very PLEASED look as he briefly vanishes inside of Amelris' Limit Break, the Starfall getting, apparently, rave reviews...     His aether barrier is fading, even as his cloak and his sword glow brighter and brighter. He's been steadily gathering energy, not just from his surroundings, but also the attacks he's been receiving, gladly receiving. "All that matters, little mice, is that my Master returns, and now..." He quirks his head. "If I do not accomplish that plan, it sounds like someone else will. You ought to all have... kept a closer eye on things."     A sniff, and Amon adjusts his hat. "No matter. It won't matter to you lot. This is where the show ends, sadly. And you along with it. Take a bow, everyone, it will be your last!"     And with an exhalation of exultant breath, he whips the sword around him in a flourish and a wave of... frankly unwholesome Void energy washes over the entire room, smashing aside the carefully crafted barrier and smashing at everyone in the room.     I mean, unless they managed to get behind a chunk of ice. But who's ever seen THAT mechanic before? 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' A blast of void energy smashes through the room, destroying the barrier. It slams straight into Vikavolt, Guzma, and the trainers, sending them all flying backwards, burning up and groaning in pain. Guzma's hurt, and so is Vikavolt, but... They're still standing, just /barely/! "Vikavolt! X-Scissor!" Vikavolt flies straight at Amon, and opens its mandibles wide, before slicing them in an x-shape around him. Two x-cuts, moving to try and slice him up and defeat him at all costs. Guzma needs to stay conscious, if he's gonna help Lezard! 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      The Starfall is not as effective as it might've been. That's just the life of a Limitbreak, however. Sometimes, it just sputters and farts into not fulfilling the hype.      Amelris' eyes widens out at the sight of the breath, all that aether and void energy just spilling out like this. A quick glance looks around, finding a block of ice. The Starfall put a lot out of him but there's some fight left in him at this point.      "GET BEHIND SOMETHING!" Amelris shouts, gathering his weapons out as he leaps out in the air, backflipping off a few feet to land squarely behind the ice block that was so nicely provided by Amon. He'll never understand that sort of things from people like that but he's not going to complain at this point.      As soon as the explosion finishes, the void rages is over from the barrier, Amelris immiediatedly dashes out from behind like a balistic missile at Amon, rapier first to ram it down into his knee.      "No, I paid attention." Amelris snaps, gritting his teeth. "Oh look, an EVIL WIZARD is stabbing us in the bleedin' back. WHO COULD HAVE FORSEEN THIS DEVELOPMENT COMING!?"      Amelris then flows into a wider movement, spinning his blade up into a wide arc, then ramming it repeatedly into a flurry of thrusts, each impacts exploding into a tiny burst of energy as his sword is charged up with magic, balance of White and Black aether cancelling each other out. "So shut up!"      Stab Stab Stab, slice, stab slice.      "AND GIVE ME YOUR DAMN HAT!"      The last thrust will be, in fact, aimed upward at said hat. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's armour clinks and grates, annoyingly clingy ice shattering off it repeatedly as she takes a step back. That is a /considerable/ amount of void energy now. "Fury take me..." she mutters under her breath. She makes a break for one of said mounds of ice, turning around at the last moment to brace her shield with both arms against it. The ice shatters under the shockwave, leaving Alruna sliding back on the slush underfoot as void energy tears at her body. Panting, Alruna draws her sword and tries to tackle Amon from a different side to Amelris, a black, dark fear growing in her chest as she realises what about this scenario seems much, much too familiar to her. The last time she fought someone raving about awakening their master... the Seventh Umbral Calamity happened. Aether rolls down her blade as she attacks Amon with a flurry of slashes, that cold chill down her spine not born of ice spells anymore. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Amon is proving to be one heck of a foe here. Tomoe is tough she's very well known for just what a beating she can take. Tomoe makes for a chunk of ice, she's just too far out to make it in time. Well, she partially does but her lower half is caught int he flames and it is bad. Her lower body is now a mess of angry red wireframes. Her HP bar on her HUD is in the red, she's in a good deal of pain too. She struggles to her feet and takes the Dawn Breaker in both hands and she lunges for Amon trying to put him down. "This is not my final bow, not here not YET!" She musters all the strength she has left and launches herself at Amon, it's a fairly big gamble but it's the best plan she has, for she can't see running away. To be anything more than a you die tired, sort of situation. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And then for all the noise? All the... pomp, the rage, the circumstance? Amon can do little to stop what's coming. His energy expended, the attacks slice him to ribbons, blow by blow until-     Wait, no, he really IS ribbons. Like, his body's gone, and all that's left are his clothes and garments, shredded and torn and raggedy, like they were never that much in the first place. The lights in the room all dim for a moment or two, and then flick over as power cycles in the control chamber.     Amon is gone, and the elevator starts to cycle again, as lights flick over from that garish, awful cyan to something softer, a warm, alarming red, instead. Great, just great.     The radio crackles too, as Raha digs himself out from behind one of the now crushed ice blocks. "Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit." He's already staggering up to his feet, limping, his tail lifeless halfway down its length. He's running for the Elevator, trying to intercept it before... well. Someone's coming. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "Who... who is your master?" The question comes at the end of a shaking swordpoint. Alruna pulls up her visor, staring down balefully at Amon's...remains, or his puppet, or whatever it was they just fought. She seems hung up on this, barely acknowledging that something else is happening as she stares in shock at the rags left behind by Amon. She looks up, around, helplessly at the control room. "Who is your master!?" she demands, too late to receive an answer, it seems. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      That was actually somewhat surprising, cutting a thing to ribbons like that and only leaving their clothes.      With a flourish at looking at the garnments, Amelris flips the hat up into the air, snatch it out and hurriedly make it vanish in a puff of aether. The only thing worthy here.      "Alruna!" Amelris calls, sheathing his rapier to shake her by the shoulder. "We'll find out later! Come on!" He looks at Guzma and Tomoe, nodding at them. "Let's back N'raha up. WHO KNEW, a wizard might've very well have done something wizardly!"      Amelris then dashes after the other Miqo'te, hand on his hat as he dives after. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     As the barrier fails, there is another occurrence.     A teleportation circle, the same kind as those that Lezard uses, draws itself on the platform that they had used to ascend. The person who is meant to use it, knows it's going to happen.     Raha is running for the elevator too. Guzma might want to Goomba Stomp the catman or something on his way to the port, but a voice begins echoing through the Labyrinth.     "Yes, that is right. Do as I say and I will allow you to keep your life. I need your /eye/, it need not be attached to the rest of you. Do not try me."     A pause, then Lezard's voice echoes again. "Ah, excellent. Thank you all for providing this wonderous distraction from my normal investigations. This place holds a great deal of promise. So much so, that I have decided to take it for my own. Pursurant to this, I have claimed the cat that holds the key. If you do not interfere, I may even return him intact. Still, there is much to research. It seems that your foe had managed to set some systems into motion, systems that herald that Master he speaks of. Ah well. It seems that I will have to select... Regicide." 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' As the man falls, Guzma isn't thinking about him. He doesn't care about Amon, or his puppet, or whatever. Lezard has a plan. It's time to move. But N'raha is faster. Way faster than the humans in Team Skull. So, as Guzma and Team Skull start running for the elevator, Vikavolt charges in for N'raha's heel, moving to bite them and slow him down just long enough for Guzma to get to the teleportation circle, return Vikavolt to its Pokeball... "See you around, losers! Concord rules!" And, hopefully, vanish with the circle. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha can do plenty to stop Guzma. He can't do a damn thing to stop Vikavolt and that strike, his already injured body getting tossed off balance and slammed into a console as he's tripped and tackled and... and he skids to a crumpled heap. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Several things of note, Guzma who started out a just being full of it when they first me had moved from component to downright a bad idea to ever fight alone in Tomoe's head. Next, she sees that for some strange reason Amon's body gone. "Wait what the HELL HERE?!" She's not sure he's dead and gone and she sighs for a moment. "I have a horrible feeling we are about to find out." Then something worse comes up, Lezard was up to something and there was nothing she could go at this point she struggles to get moving but is far too late. She curses violently at this but she's too beat up, and worn down to even think about trying to stop Guzma. Let alone a fully healthy and ready to rumble Lezard and next off there's a damn hostage. She will try to head to Alruna who seems pretty bad off as well. "We're in no condition to stay here, we need to get out now. I am not going to lose any party members here." There's an intense edge to her voice like she has failed to do so once and it's haunted her ever since. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna's head jerks at the sound of her name. A different voice, but it still manages to pull her back to the here and now. "Not again, please..." she whispers, turning to follow the others sprinting back towards the elevator. She's lagging far too much to do anything about Guzma. She comes to a stop next to N'raha, checking the Miqo'te over. "N'raha, not now- this is no time to be sleeping!" She slaps her hand on his chest, channeling healing energy into the cat's body. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      This is rather displeasing to Amelris, sort to say. He didn't get to really know the other lad but this sort of turning, especially since he's seen it coming, do give him a sort of vile satisfaction to his pessimistic side, making the Red Mage scowl.      The Miqo'te spins his rapier, throwing into a dash. He zooms past Alruna and N'raha, his body becoming something of a straight, deadly blurr as he homes right straight to Guzma's back, his rapier sticking out, damn ready to impale him straight on the spine...!      Except he misses, narrowingly, the blade digging into the side and barely making a slice through his clothing as the Red Mage dashes right past him. He's NOT going on that teleporter. He certainly don't want to be alone on whatever the other side of that is.      What he WILL do, however, as he dash past, during that 'failed strike', is stick a linkpearl firmly into his clothing, making it stick into a pocket.      "SHITE!" he shouts out, clearly 'annoyed' at his missing strike 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The blade slices into Guzma's jacket and shirt, ripping a hole into the shirt and causing him to mutter light profanities, but Guzma makes it away unscathed, teleporting away. Except for the linkpearl he's unaware of, of course. That might be a little problematic, depending on how it's used. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Guzma vanishes in a flash of light, the teleportation circle disappearing along with it as the intended recipient reaches it. Guzma is safe, Lezard choosing to not leave him hanging around a bunch of angry Watch members.     However, the linkpearl allows them to start listening in to what comes next.     "I knew you could triumph, Guzma. Well done." Lezard's voice echoes over the pearl. "Rest well, we have much to do and little time to do it in. The heroes will undoubtedly push ahead after the humiliation of having their prize stolen from them. We have two major goals at this point."     There are some beeping noises, and then some tapping. "This entire tower is full of homunculus chambers. One of them appears to be in the process of awakening the so-called Emperor of the Allagan Empire. We will have to be sure to interrupt that to prevent him from using his own authority over these machines. The other matter is dealing with this pitiable fool."     The 'pitiable fool' snarls but weakly enough. Whatever hocus pocus Lezard's put him under, it's a doozy, because the words are groggy and slurred. "That's th-the problem with us adventurers, isn't it? N-Never know h- wh-what to expect." A spit. The prisoner-cat seems to have decided against 'I"m not helping you' or 'you'll have to kill me first'. He's smart about that, at least. He's a little bit out of place to be refusing demands. Smart.     "I require time to analyze his gift and determine how best to acquire it for myself. But we have equally problematic issues, among which that we do not know which path the heroes will take to attempt to recover their so-called claim on their prize." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     At least they have another ally here, right? Right?     Because it's Nero's voice that rattles over the speakers. Not nearly as crisply as Lezard's voice though. Nero's missing a critical part of the puzzle, now. "Best one, huh? Just for that I ought to just leave you up there." A moment or two later, Nero himself appears on the elevator as it cycles back up to the Control Room floor. He's looking just a smidge worse for wear. He's bruised, his sunglasses are missing, and he's actually carrying the heavy gear. "Step aside, I've got to undo this damage. How did you let him just... get away from you like that?" He steps right past Alruna where she's bent over getting Raha back up to his feet, and past Amelris, and over to the nearest console he can find, dropping the case down and starting to connect wires to it. "He's gone, by the way. At least, he's out of the Labyrinth. He vanished with the idio-"     There's a very real and very angry noise that suddenly rattles in Raha's armor right about at that point, and Nero's words trail off.     "...The adventurer... and he's up... somewhere. He got access to the upper reaches through a teleportation network that... I've..." He's mashing buttons on the console.     "That I'm WORKING on getting. It will just take some time." A look to Amelris. "That I will hurry on."     Gosh, why DO Amelris and N'raha make Nero so anxious? 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Amelris, his little sleight of hand done, stops moving and immediatedly takes out another linkpearl, placing it up into his other ear, frowning with his tail annoyedly twitching, swaying behind him. "Come on you bastard, keep talking, keeeeeeep talking..."      He looks up, stepping away to watch Nero step off, waving off a gloved hand at him. "Don't take it personal. Just had to keep him yappin' and that seemed like a great thing to say at the time--yeeeeeeeeeeees!"      Amelris moves up back to N'raha and Alruna, grinning from cheek to cheek. Oh yes, now this is a very happy and proud cat of the switcheroo he just pulled.      "I have good news and bad news." Amelris smiles at Nero, taking full advantage of the nervousness. "The good news, the adventurer is still alive. The bad news, the warlock -- who's a damn coward, by the way, he didn't even fight with us to decently stab us in the back -- is going to study his power.      A pause.      "The other bad news is that a homonculus of the old Emperor of Allag is waking up in some homunculus chamber." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna looks pale, scraping the bottom of the barrel for the energy to continue healing N'raha. Eventually, her hand drops away from his chest. "Come, N'raha. On your feet." she says, her knees heroically not wobbling as she stands up, lifting N'raha with her. She glances back and forth between Amelris and Nero. "Bold choice of words for the man who /let/ that wizard take our associate." she says, glaring daggers at Nero until Amelris cuts in with something helpful. "Can you deactivate that?" she asks Nero, referring the the Emperor's chamber. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha wobbles back up on his feet with Alruna's help, the effort honestly draining. He's pushed pretty hard tonight and, well. Making noises at Nero's about all he's got left. "Yeah just... shut the whole place down, let's do that, I like that plan, this place is a trash heap."     Nero waves vaguely at Raha like his voice annoys him, which it probably does. "I would LOVE to stop the nice Warlock from summoning the man who caused the..." He does the mental calculations. "The 3rd AND the 4th Calamities." He sighs, and then rattles the Ironworks... whatever it is. "As it stands, without G'raha, we're spinning our gears on anything other than..."     More frowning at the consoles. "I can track him. Lezard. I can get you access to the network. I can't access any of the major functions otherwise." A pointed look to Alruna. "For the record, you haven't attempted to beat me up yet, so I will listen to you first and not these two... savages." He waves a hand at N'raha and Amelris. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "Good, lets hope that lasts." Alruna says bluntly, still supporting N'raha. She considers his answer for a few seconds. "Then we need to find the Emperor and make sure he doesn't take control, directly. I care little for the prospect of facing the true master of this Tower, over one trying to imitate him." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is hanging back at this point trying to recover and she'll look to Nero as he talks. She seems pained and tired and she's cursing herself for thinking maybe just maybe Lezard wouldn't pull something. "Sounds like a plan keeps tracking him and inform us if anything major comes online." She looks to Nero for a moment sizing him up. "Sounds like going after the Emperor is a good bet. Though it's likely Lezard might be happy with that." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "That's a sound plan." Amelris comments, still keeping a hand over one of his ears, listening in on the new noises. His ear flickers, almost rythmically at this point. "My suggestion would be to attack Lezard while he will, himself, attack the Emperor. He don't want the Emperor active as long he don't have the means of control the tower, so he's limited on time just as much as we are."      Amelris eyes Nero, grinning at him. "G'raha is safe as long Lizard don't figure it out too fast and until the Emperor awakens. And as long he don't try to do something stupid, but he didn't sound inclined to do that when I heard him." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Nero smiles cheerily at Alruna. "See? A good working relationship already!" He sighs, and then gets to work, looking through files and then... "Maps maps maps where's... MAPS. AH." He slides a control and then... a map. It's labeled Syrcus Tower. "Right, I can get you..." He fiddles with controls. The map expands to show a large chamber with tubes and more tubes. "Cloning Vats, looks like. I'll have to rig up the teleporters though." A point. "You'd get one shot without G'raha so make it count." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Sounds like," Amelris says, energetically as a burst of aether comes out on his hand, where Amon's large feathered hat appears. "A very good bet to take, then! I'll take them odds!"      Amelris spins the hat, then place it on his head, above his other hat.      He frowns, his tail dissapprovingly snapping behind him.      "Bleh. Even gaudier than I expected." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna gives Tomoe a wintery smile. "I cannot say working towards my enemies' goals doesn't leave a bitter taste in my mouth, but nonetheless, it serves us too." She nods and turns to Amelris as Nero gives them their option. "Regardless of Lezard's presence or lack, we have little and less time the longer we dally." 
}}

6973/Heavensturn 2020

2020-02-18T04:57:30Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/12/30 |Synopsis=Heavensturn 2020 seems to go better than the 2019 version, if only that there's more Warriors of Light to enjoy it |Cast of Ch..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/12/30
|Synopsis=Heavensturn 2020 seems to go better than the 2019 version, if only that there's more Warriors of Light to enjoy it
|Cast of Characters=819, 7175, 7180, 906, 6
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Welcome to The Mist. It's a coastal city out on the edge of Limsa Lominsa, one of the three largest cities in Eorzea. It's a place for Free Companies and Notable Heroes to find a place to live, to stake their claim on the world and take part in the fine tradition of Home Ownership. And it's here that the Party Is Taking Place.     Then again, if you wanted the REALLY big parties, you'd be looking elsewhere in the Mist. It's both Starlight and Heavesturn still, and so the parties for the end of one are sort of slip sliding into the other. The big big Free Companies are at their big estates, shooting off fireworks, getting drunk in the streets and generally being rather bawdy. But Raha's party? It's down on the coast at the beach. The currents are warm along the Mist, which keeps the chill of winter away from the place, which means that light clothes are still proper attire, it seems.     There's chairs, there's umbrellas, there's a set of large bonfires, and there's food and booze. And there's a Raha, and a very tall Hyur lady, easily a foot taller than the cat man, dressed in a smart looking swimsuit and sarang in Maelstrom colors, fussing and messing around with the spread. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' It's a good thing Alruna is an adventurer, the way she's been packing away cakes and sweets of all kinds during the Starlight festivals, which are now blending into the Heavensturn ones. Her actual contribution was to deliver various grains, fruits and other foodstuffs when a shortage was discovered by the Culinarian's Guild, so she feels /richly deserving/ of the largesse being put on. If all the sugar has affected her weight she's not showing it yet, with that worryingly skimpy orange two-piece outfit she's wearing. She's reclining languidly in a hammock strung between two poles, a bottle of...something, hanging lazily from her fingers as she faces away from the bonfires and watches distant fireworks in the night sky over the city with a thousand-malm gaze. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      This is truly the best way to celebrate Starlight.      Another Miqo'te is waltzing at his own pace at the party in the Mists. It is, afterall, where all Adventurer in the Lomisian area go to gather and party. He's wearing a loose white shirt currently with some red shorts with some diamond-colored yellow batterns, with some sandals at his feet. He's been mingling with the folks there, chatting, eating away and drinking at the others, while having some fun diving into the beach's waters.      Meanwhile, the Emerald Carbunckle has been also mingling. With the other carbunckles of other adventurers, laying in a pile, where the sun used to be, taking a 'nap'. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha, for his part shuffles over towards Alruna with a smile as the fellow adventurer soaks in the Spirit of Heavensturn, and he hands her a bottle of rolanberry fizz. "I gotta admit, that it's nice having more people from the Scions here again. I know a lot of you were off in the outer reaches of Aldenard doing Stuff so..." He bows his head. "Though I don't... remember you on the roster, Miss...?" The question trails off...     The Very Tall Hyur lady calls out. "Meatballs are ready!" The accent is unmistakably Limsan, born and bred, the Common Style. This here's a salty lady. A salty lady doing the cooking. She waves to Amelris, and whistles. "Down here, Mister Red Mage! Scions party is down here!" 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang Xiao Long approaches from the directionn of the warpgate. She's wearing some kind of traditional garment from Mistral. It's effectively a Yukata. The right sleeve is empty, but the outfit is set oddly, showing she's got that limb inside, while some bandages show around the exposed part of her neck. She waves her uninjured hand in greeting as she approaches the group. "Hey guys!" she offers, giving those she's met before a big grin, and those she's about to meet formally an even bigger one. "Name's Yang. Nice t'meetchya." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Of course!" The Red Mage in question calls over as he approach. Mooching off other adventurer, which is to say visiting other adventurers he knew before making his way to the Scion party, has been something of a day!      "Thanks you for the invitation, Ms.! It has certainly been a while since we had a full gathering of the Scions here." Amelris comments as he approaches, looking at N'raha and Alruna talking but, more particularly, Tomoe and Yang coming by. Ahhhh, yes, newcomers and new acquintances! "Welcome, welcome, ladies! Wonderful you could make it to the beaches of Lominsa! Enjoy the sand, ignore the jellyfishes in the sea!"      Amelris' voice, for that matter, do have a slight Lominsian accent to it, perhaps punctuated back to the surface after hanging back around the city for a few moments. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has been to Mist before and the party N'Raha had thrown had been fun, so she'd taken up invitation she was wearing light clothing tall, purple hair and honestly could be mistaken for an Elezen. Though she was more powerfully built than they tended ot be and the neck was a bit shorter. She would also be carrying something some sort of food basket with her. She had a big old grin on her face and called out "Hey N'Raha!" She would pause to look at Alruna she was new to her and grinned. "Hello one of N'Raha's friends I take it? I'm Tomoe the Iron Lily." She'd also take note of Amelris as well. Then came Yang and the woman grinned wider. "Good to see you Yang." Tomoe's accent would be very strange to the locals and it's likely she's an off-world friend of Raha's. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna turns over in her hammock when she hears someone approaching, coming back to the here and now. She gives N'raha a beaming smile. "Alruna." The empty bottle falls onto the sand with a hollow *clonk*, and she takes the proffered drink happily. She hadn't witnessed the devastation wrought on Limsa personally, but she knew in a detached way that it had happened. Seeing the city-states so full of life after the fact has done her soul a world of good. She stands up, towering nearly as much over N'raha as her fellow Hyuran doing the meatballs. "And thank you for inviting me out." Scions... they're not the organisation she remembers, but Minfilia sure knew how to pick her right out of the crowd and draw her back into the fray. "I'm pretty new," she says to Tomoe, taking a swig from the bottle N'raha handed her. "But I hope he'll count me as one soon enough." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Miss Pirate Lady snaps off a salute to Amelris. "Storm Sergeant Alicia Bitters! Captain Raha said we wasn't getting nobs, sir, so I didn't come all fancy." she looks down at her sarong, with the bits of stains of food on it, and shrugs. "But, it's a party, inn't?" She twirls in place, and then cracks open the tras of the meatballs and the little spinach puffs and the big tray of rice cakes and the fizzy drinks and the wine and... well. There's a buffet, folks. Raha's probably responsible.     The axcatte wiggles his ears up at the Paladin. "And yeah. Swordmates are quick friends, if not given other reasons to fret over intentions..." Oh hells, there's Amerlris. Raha pauses his chat with Alruna with a wink. "Hold that thought."     And with that, he shuffles over to Amelris, and claps a hand around the fellow Miqo'te's shoulder, looking to Yang and Tomoe. "Miss Xaio Long, Miss Lily, allow me to introduce my cousin Amelris Belthrone, Red Mage, Fancy Pants and Showoff." A serious look. "Don't listen to a damn word, he's just trying to charm you, he's a cad and a scoundrel.     He claps the Keeper on the back, smiles broadly, and then scampers over to snag a tray of mochi. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang grins back at Tomoe, "Heya. How's it shakin'?" she asks, then chuckles as N'raha does his thing with Amelris. "Cad /and/ Scoundrel. Sounds like we'll get along just fine." she remarks at N'raha's back with a teasing grin; she then turns back to Amelris and offers her uninjured hand. "Yang Xiao Long, Huntress from the world of Remnant." she offers. "I saw you fight yesterday. Pretty fancy stuff. You kinda reminded me of my teammate, Weiss Schnee. She's all fancy with her Glyph Semblence and Dust and stuff. And she uses a rapier." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      The Red Mage give a bigger grin at the Sergeant, giving her a salute in return. "Storm Corporal Belthrone, Sergeant. It IS a party to be sure. Nice view, good food, good conversations, great drinks. I'd say I think we're due for a good time here."      He's interrupted by N'raha's very causal and friendly introduction, the Red Mage giving off a cough. "Why now, I protest, I am no such cad and scoundrel, 'cousin'." The Miqo'te replies, his ears wriggling semi-irritably. Still, he's grinning and taking it well in stride. Once free, his tail wiggles and shakes off some of the sand, tilting his head at Yang. "Wonderful to meet both of you, then. Hm. Truly, some other with similarity in style, then? That would be wonderful to meet, sometimes, then."      The Carbunckle remains in the pile. It is shiny and sleeping. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna gives a hearty thumbsup and takes another swig from her bottle. Alruna then gives Amelris a grin in passing as she saunters over to the food to snag a plate and start piling it high with meatballs and spinach puffs. She has to stop eating the sweet stuff sometime, after all. "He's a dashing dancer. Has some problems with the backstep though." she says, speaking mostly clearly through a mouthful. Biiig grin now, daring Amelris to defend himself. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha just smiles happily, in return to Amelris, and then wiggles his ears. "Well. He's... not *really* my cousin, it's just that all us loner male miqo'te have some sort of solidarity, in my opinion." A shrug, and he pops a piece of mochi in his mouth, as he finds a chair to camp out in.      

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang nods. "She's been busy in Vacuo lately. Something about a giant Grimm burrowing through the sands of the desert and ambushing caravans. Messy." she shrugs. "Not a subject for a party though." she looks over at Alruna, "Speaking of backstep... that was a pretty impressive fight with Sarra. She's no pushover, little on the squishy side but man if she can't hit hard." she says this like she knows firsthand just how hard the Princess can hit if she connects well with that hammer.     She does the same introduction to the Hyur as she did to her Miqo'te. "Name's Yang Xiao Long. I'm a Huntress." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe replies firs tto Alruna with a grin. "I know how that goes well welcome either way." She'll look to Amelris and grins. "I don't feel like fighting the local wildlife so no worries about that!" Then N'Raha introduces her formally and she grins a bit. "More family?" She seems down with this and looks Amelris over again. "Oh so he's one of those cousins." There's a bit of laughter from her over the comments about her cousin. She does catch a glance at the sleeping carbuncle which is utterly adorable to her but she has enough sense to let it rest. She'll take the basket of food she brought and set it out, rum balls and other assorted baked goods made up most of it with some ham of some sort or another. She then finds a chair to crash in. "Ah family by choice so to speak?" Yang then brings up a fight with Sarra. "You fought the Princess? That's got to be an experiance and a half there." She will also take a moment to introduce herself to the Hyur as well. "Tomoe The Iron Lily Second in command of the Gate Crashers Union Guild." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Amelris have no idea what a 'grim' is supposed to be, but by the sound of it, he hardly thinks that they are nice little thing to busy yourself with.      "I see. Well! I look forward to meeting her, sometimes--" He stops mid-sentence to cough loudly once, giving Alruna something of an embarassed evil eye. "Indeed, let's just say it is hard to know where you are going without eyes on your back. I'm afraid I didn't see much of your own battle, as I was busy with the dark youth Riku. Quite a handful." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "Al-" She stops, putting a finger to her mouth, and then burping. "Alruna. Greengate." the Highlander introduces herself to Yang. "You were watching, hmm? Those bombs were nasty, but the hammer was worse." Alruna agrees. "Things certainly changed after Unification. I have a lot to learn about, so it was a solid learning experience." Her mouth is empty again. That's a problem, in her opinion, so she stuffs a spinach puff in it, holding out her plate for Yang or Tomoe to take something, smiling with her eyes at Amelris. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha helps Amelris and Yang. "When she says 'Grimm' think 'voidkin' only theirs are like... dark mirror versions of critters. Demon bears and smoke cats and stuff. All very nasty." He smiles back up at Alruna, and then finds another bottle. This one was a light mead, and he cracks it open to sip on it. "Mmmm! Turned out better than I thought it would." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "The unification tens to turn everything on its head. Magic? Other species? Those were some of the biggest shocks to where I'm from to be honest. It does turn things on its head. Still, I made friends with people who have become like family and seen things that would have been only fiction before." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Some lights, well, lights up in Amelris' eyes. "Ahhhhhhhhh, I see. I could understand they were beasties not kind to deal with, in any case." The Miqo'te nods at Yang. "Quite unsettling, indeed!" He's trying very hard to not let Alruna's smiling gaze get to him. Good work, Paladin! 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Amelris has definitely left an impression on Alruna, if not the one he might've hoped for, heh. Alruna finishes washing down her puff with another hearty swig from her bottle. "Mm. Learning about all kinds of new things. Hells, the weapons people were using on those forays into the...Labyrinth? That's the name they gave it, yes?" She wanders, a mite unsteadily, towards a chair to take her ease again, flumping down into it heavily. "All manner of opportunities to learn about outlanders and their tools. And their beasts, and how they fight. When you've healed up," She nods at Yang's injured arm. "You should come on a trip into the Tower. Positively /crawling/ with voidkin and other nasties." She grins. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha huffs a bit, and sits next to Alruna, sipping on his mead and pointing at the rest, his open shirt swaying a bit as he gesticulates with his bottle. "Yeah! YEAH! There's-" urp. "There's movement too. G'raha and that smug prick Nero have been making noise like they're getting ready to make a push on the central chamber of the Labyrinth. Something about... master controls or summat. Apparently the room they've got themselves now isn't adequate to make... pushes farther up the Tower."     Raha's green eyes narrow a bit, and he huffs. "And having more Watch members and others I can trust would... obviate a BUNCH of worries I got with the last crew I ran with."     He spits at the sand and makes a noise like 'bloody warlocks'. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Oh hoooooooo??" Amelris' attention is caught at the sounds of the conversation between his fellow Eorzean adventurers. "Yes, good, I've been waiting to hear some more information on what actually happened, beyond some reports I've read." The Miqo'te comments, streeeeeeeetching over to snag some meat and a drink, his ears fluttering in the wind of the beach. "It IS interesting that it's starting to wake up so recently." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is going to get some food as well as she hears Nero brought up. "He reminds me of some people I have gamed with and huh? Part of why I'm there. The cash is nice but it's not really why I'm there. Raha you have helped out in the past and I'm happy to have your back in return. "Get ready for some serious fighting if you come along. The last horror we fought /got/ back up. Who knows what could be causing it. It could be local or something from the multiverse. We'll have to dig deeper and find out won't we?" With some food in hand she'll move back to her own chair to flop in. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "About godsdamned time." Alruna nods, laying back comfortably and balancing her plate on her stomach. "That Garlean rubs me the wrong way." she mutters. Cid was...well, he was one thing, but Nero's aura of self-inflated superiority is just... /ugh/. All the stereotypes of Garleans rolled up into one man. "The behemoth was a good fight, mind." she says. Gulp, gulp. "Got a... got lots of exercise with that one." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha makes a face at Alruna. "I fought him on the push through to stop Gaius and the Legion. He's no pushover but... by the GODS is he hung up on Cid. Do not, DO NOT mention Cid around him. Especially when he's working. He'lll... you'll never hear the end of it. Or else he'll like..."     He mimes fiddling with sunglasses. "...Do that annoying thing with his glasses where he acts like he knows something you don't or-" Burp.     Raha blinks a bit. "He's a smug arrogant prick. And I hate him." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "I'll very well take taht in mind! I certainly hope there will be some difficulty: the rewards, I'm sure, will be more than worth it to explore! Imagine! Allag RUINS that's been closed for CENTURIES!" Amelris exclaims excitedly. "All of this mess is incredible to investigate. As well as... well, solving the problems that lies at it's heart." He smiles at Tomoe, before leaning down against a chair comfortably, his tail limping.      "It's that fellow with the hammer, right?" Amelris asks. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "Hear!" Alruna raises her bottle, smiling. "Confusion to highborne asses!" And then she has another drink. And a belch. And a meatball. Alruna is not a highborne lady. "IS there a problem?" she asks, her speech getting a little dulled by this point. "I thought we were just exploring the place because it's there and we can get in now thanks to that Tia's eye... G'raha. I mean G'raha." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The word 'Tia' doesn't rankle Raha as much as it once did, that's for sure. That said, N'raha snorts. "There's something more going on in there. And I think we're now trying to both... raid the place." He waves over with one hand... "And also stop whatever the hells is inside of it from doing... Allagan things like end the world or start a Calamity or summat."     Amelris correctly identifies Nero. "Yeah that's him, the... the hammer and the inferiority complex." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "He really is a pick I will give you that and huh he was one of Gaius' troops? That could explain a lot." She thinks back and mutters something about that crazy Bard. She'll look to Alruna for a moment and will join her in the toast as well. She then gets a bit sober s she hears about end of the world. "I don't wish to relive something like that again myself. I will keep in mind he's not helpless if things hit the fan though." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Yes, I'm certain that's the only thing he feels inferior about." Amelris comments sharply, adjusting his shirt, then take a swig out of his bottle, lounging back against his seat. The word 'Tia' don't even get to him. Mostly because he's not one, to begin with, being a Keeper. "Delving into anything the Allag have made implies a certain amount of danger, just because of the leftovers they've left all around the realm."      He looks back at Tomoe, smiling. "I'd rather wish to avoid another Calamity. It wasn't nice to live through, trust me." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha frowns at Amelris, and then reaches over to clink his bottle against the Red Mage's. "Hear hear." 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      Amelris stoically nods, clinking the bottle with his fellow Miqo'te. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna gets real quiet at that, staring dully at her own knees for a few moments. Then she puts another meatball in her mouth, staving off contemplation. She's done enough of that tonight. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     But before Deep Thinking can try and fight through the booze and the growing melancholy, there's a commotion from one of the large Free Companies down the beach. A pair of Lalafel are carrying a large crate out onto the sands, with a third carrying a lit sparkler. A massive crowd of mercenaries are hanging out on a overlooking patio, cheering and hooting... when the fireworks start. A little prematurely, because the smallfolk have to dump the box on the ground and run.     And boy are they something. Magical fireworks, alchemy with thaumaturgy thrown in for good measure. Moving displays, lights and colors bending over the top of The Mist like a twisting aurora. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "I trust you on that." Tomoe noted "I'll put it up there with the multiversal barf that happened a few years ago." She now will try a bit more of the local food. "This is just great." She's also had a long love of Seafood and given where they are? It is quite a good match for Tomoe's taste in food. She get a chance to look up at the fireworks and seems to like them. "Magic I take it." the Lalafel has got clear so there's nothing to worry about right? 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna sits up, her (empty) plate sliding off her stomach, when she hears the commotion going on down the beach. Interest piqued, she waits expectantly when the tiny lalafells start running, and is not disappointed by the explosion of light and sound erupting from the crate. She stands up, turning to follow a shimmering curtain of pastel light as it scatters its edge along the coastline. Taking a deep breath, she sighs happily. "'S enough for me tonight." she declares, leaning her (mostly empty) bottle against the chair. "I'm gonna go for a swim." And with that, she starts striding towards the water's edge. 

:'''{{#var:7180|Amelris Belthrone (7180)}} has posed:'''      "Close enough." Amelris comments, just taking it easy for now and watching the fireworks. "It's alchemy." He's a bit blunted on the dour conversation but he is picking back up, rallying quickly.      He watches, nodding at Alruna going off for a swim. She IS wearing a swimsuit, after all. T'would be a waste to not make full use of it. "Enjoy the water! I'm probably gonna join later! Water looks nice." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The plate falls in to the sand, and Sergant Bitters is right there to scoop it up and put it in a stack of dirties she's collecting. "'Ave a nice swim, miss! We'll be here to fish yer out if you needs it!"     Raha snorts a bit at the passing of the Paladin, and then he sighs, stretching out to look up at the fireworks. "And just think. We've got another... week of all this." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe thinks about going for a swim in a bit herself she could easily swap outfits to do so. "Another week of partying nothing wrong with that. After this year I think we all could use ssome more off that." She gives Alruna a wave as she heads off to the water. 
}}

6992/Life is Pain, Don't Let Anyone Tell You Different ft. Raha and Inga

2020-02-18T04:55:56Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/01/08 |Synopsis=Inga, Raha and Alruna piece together the after events of the disastrous fight in the Tower |Cast of Characters=819, 525, 7175..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/01/08
|Synopsis=Inga, Raha and Alruna piece together the after events of the disastrous fight in the Tower
|Cast of Characters=819, 525, 7175
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It hurt. Everything hurt. All of Raha's bits hurt today. From the tip of his tail to the tip of his nose, the catman could feel every muscle protesting, feel every piece of what made him him screaming at him that 'you fucked up'. And they wouldn't be wrong.     Raha was soaking in the large tub in the basement of the home. One of two they had, to be sure. His and hers. The shower was off, but the catman only cared that right now the warm water helped and he was supposed to be hydrating and everything hurt. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga has, as far as she can tell, a brand new body. She'd died again. All and all, it hadn't been her finest moment, but she'd tried. She simply wasn't cut out for that sort of fight. She'd drawn too much attention, and no one had intervened successfully. Despite having a new body, or however it worked, she was sore as well. Nothing like Raha. Her pains were perhaps more mental. Exhaustion, the memories of that strange grey place where she'd spent so much time... Inga knocks before opening the door and entering the room, her walking stick in one hand and a small tray with a pot of tea, two cups, and a large bottle of ibuprofen. She may have magical and herbal healing in her arsenal, but really. Ibuprofen is magical too. She sets it down on the edge of the tub with a sigh, then sits nearby. She's dressed in a long skirt and a black hoodie of all things. It's the multiversal 'I'm tired and I don't give a fuck' outfit. "Is the bath helping?" she asks, pouring a cup of tea before opening the bottle and dispensing three pills for him. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha sighs and just rubs at the stubble at the edges of his chin, taking in his partner and her appearance and just grunting in approval. "Sort of." His ears, or rather his good ear, flicks a bit, casting droplets of water into the room. A hand lifts and he takes the pills, looking at them, and then tossing them back, crunching once before swallowing with a face. Bitter, as ever. "Hnnn. We didn't find G'raha. Xande tore open a hole into the void and escaped. Lezard fucked off."     He sighs. "Failure all around." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga winces as he crunches the pills. "Raha...you just swallow them whole, you don't chew them," she says, and can't help a small laugh. She slumps back against the chair, leaning her head back against the wall gently. A slow sigh. "Yes. Sometimes we fail. That is life. We will try again. I hate to say it Raha, but that man we fought...he was right. The Watch is disorganized. We have so many strong members but we aren't a /team/. We simply don't work together the way the Concord does. Say what you will, but they support each other." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha makes a face and grumps, but murmurs. "It's because... well." He wilts. "It's been a LONG TIME since I've had people I could even begin to trust besides you. Those..."     A breath. "Alruna and Amelris, they're Chosen too. More Warriors of Light." A beat. "So I have to trust them, and learn to work with them. And I am pretty sure I smashed most of that chance last night." A moment to soak. "I can't even remember half of it." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head. "It isn't just you Raha. As a whole, this group needs work. But that's a conversation for another time," she says, waving a hand in dismissal. "Hmm. I was under the impression you were /the/ warrior of light. I knew there were others with the Echo obviously though...ah, well. Less pressure, more help. We'll need to meet with them. Get to know each other so that we can work as a group. I doubt you have ruined anything. That said..." Inga takes a deep breath. This is where the conversation gets difficult. "Raha, I am worried about you. This is coming from someone who self-destructed fairly successfully. You can't go on this way. The Odin-rage is a powerful force, but it is also dangerous if not used correctly. I worry...when was the last time you fought without it? You have to be able to /think/ Raha. Whatever Staren said, you should not have done what you did..." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The good ear wilts again, and the catman lets out a huff of breath. "I..."     He doesn't have a good response for that. Not really. Dark hir shifts as he slides around in the tub to plant himself closer to Inga, in reach, if she wants. "I'm not sure if it was any /thing/ he said, just... Staren being Staren and being... obliviously arrogant GODS that annoys me."     He sinks into the water enough to blow a stream of suppresed bubbles. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sighs, nodding. "I know, he has a way...but that's just how he is. Knocking him in the head isn't going to help. Anyway, it isn't all about Staren. You know I say this out of concern for you Raha...for us. I need you," she says, reaching over to put her hand on his shoulder. "I can't...have you lost in the rage every time we get into an altercation. When you lose control too deeply...you make two enemies. Your opponent, and yourself. I know it is part of you Raha, but gods...you have got to learn to think your way through it. You have to be able to function. It is like my Sight. When I was younger, it constantly overwhelmed me. I had to train myself. Sometimes I still lose control, obviously...but it's better." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha wilts some more, and just sort of makes a vague noise. It's not that far from a noise of assent. He's Aware.     "I thought i had... a better handle on this than I do. There's..." N'raha's eyes go distant. "There's darkness, Inga. There's darkness coming and it's been so long since I've had any bit of light that isn't you." A vague distraught noise. "And then Majima wnet and... and..."     And then I Was and didn't stop him from killing you and Staren went and said things and it's all..."     A sigh. "I need help." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga moves closer to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him against her. "I know, love. There's always darkness coming. We have to make our own light. You're not alone. Your world is far from lost," she says. Unlike...some worlds. "You know I will help you as much as I am able. You were there for me when I walked in darkness. I'm here for you. And so are your friends." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh. Hugs. Hugs are good. Even if Raha's getting Inga's dress wet now. "Hnnn." His good ear flutters a little bit as a rumble forms in his chest, and then he reaches a hand back to pet at Inga's fresh new hair.     A calm moment though. "You got back alright. I'm assuming you found a safehouse first." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Mmm. I just came to Agartha. Stayed there for a bit, resting. Don't worry about me," she says. She doesn't care if her dress is wet. It's only her shift, she'll change. "These others warriors of light...let's meet with them, hmm? That's a good start. Next time, we want to make sure we work together in a way that benefits us." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman's head drifts a bit as Inga hugs him gently like that. Raha's still hurting in more ways than one. A little moment, and he murmurs. "I was scared I'd.... broken something. More than just me. More than just..."     "...Yes, we need to have them over." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The house is frankly slight mess. Built in much of the fasion that most of the Adventurer Housing is, the upstairs is a frankly more social space with a small but professional looking kitchen, a set of tables and chairs and such for guests, and also a small TV Set.     There's noise downstairs though. Raha's lion-like rumbles and Inga's quieter voices.     For his part, Raha is now standing in the hallway to the living room downstairs, dressed plainly in a shirt and slacks, a towel in his hair. He is being very ginger to avoid touching one of his ears. "Like, what do i say to them though, hello, I tried to kill everyone lsast night, here, try this ham, I made it myself?" 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' "That seems like a good start." Alruna, like any good Warrior of Light, knows how to just Be There when someone says something they didn't intend to say within earshot. She's doffed her armour and opted for her mustard-yellow longcoat again. It breathes a lot easier than leather and plate mail in Limsa's warm climate. She's halfway down the stairs when she announces her presence, and just about bounces down the rest of the stairs, light on her feet and with a sunny expression on her face. "Inga, yes?" she looks to the other woman. "We didn't really talk yesterday... and... you're alive." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga has changed into a non-wet dress, and is ready with tea and snacks when Alruna arrives. She is not surprised at her arrival--seer. She smiles softly and extends her hand. "Yes, Inga Freyjasdottir. A pleasure to meet you. Er...ah...yes. I am alive again. I wasn't even gone for that long this time, there was an anima well close by. Come in, have a seat," she gestures. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha looks up in mild shock though, but that's because his ears and senses are busted from being danced on and kicked and all sorts of rude things he did to himself.     "Ah, r-right. Alruna, this is Inga. Inga, this is Alruna. She's a Paladin. But not." A beat. "She's a Paladin but WITH the Paladins. That's going to get confusing."     A look to Alruna. "Inga is my partner." There's a note of pride in that. Partner. Singular. Interesting for a Seeker. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna smiles. "I'm glad. I can see there's much and more to learn about the lands beyond our borders." "I'm not affiliated with any Paladin orders." she says, as the easiest clarification you can get. "Do you have a- yes, that will do." She walks over to the table that tea and snacks have been laid out on, and pours a small hill of sweets onto the snack pile from a pouch she produces. If it wasn't a pile before, it's a pile now. "Did you know there's a bakery in Revenant's Toll that's also a sweetshop? I didn't!" Alruna flops down into a chair, and seems to just, let the tension flow out of her with a long breath. "I'm sorry, I interrupted you." she prompts. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga chuckles at Raha's explaination. "Yes, I understand what you mean," she replies to him, then watches as Alruna piles her plate with snacks. There's the usual--small sandwiches, scones, little cookies with jam in the middle...Afternoon tea sorts of things. "Not at all. We wanted to speak with you...and the other. What was his name?" she asks, looking to Raha for the answer. "If we're going to continue working together, we should get to know each other. I do not want a repeat of the tower. We'll need to face Lezard and the Emperor again, and we must work as a team." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman lets out a much more calm sigh, and his good ear flicks a bit forward as Alruna drops off all those baked goods. It's as good as anything he could have made right now, as beat up as he is. His hands are still tremoring, ever so slightly.     "It's Amelris. And he and I go back a ways. He was there with me when we took down the Ultima Weapon and defeated Lahabrea." A little soft purr as he finds a chair. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna nods. She sits up again because slouching while you drink from a teacup is an invitation to disaster. "He's... expressive." she smiles, recalling their first meeting, which ended with her having to rescue him with a rope. "Minfilia told me the story, it's quite... a story." Started well, that sentence. Alruna opts to snatch up a cookie to fill that awkward void. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Amelris," she says, trying out the name. She nods, remembering him from the fight, though they hadn't actually had the time to get acquanited. "Ah really? Strange then that I haven't met him before," she adds. She passes Raha a cup of tea, holding her hand over his for a moment. A small gesture of comfort. Inga looks back to Alruna. "So, a Paladin. I saw you fight, a little, admittedly I was rather busy. What would you say your greatest strengths are?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha makes a vague noise about Amelris and his lack of presence. "Mmmmh. Stuff happened and... uh." His ear wilts to match the tilt of his busted ear, and he finds a tea cup to sip on while he lets the Paladin explain herself. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna blinks, and swallows. "Well, being me!" She raises one arm and flexes, stretching the rolled-back sleeve of her jacket. She grins, and puts her arm down, slurping some of her tea. "Did you have something specific in mind?" she prods. "I would say I'm one of the realm's best swordsmen, but I've been... away, and my position has been taken by all manner of upstarts!" Her expression says she's joking, but not her eyes. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga raises her eyebrows, lips curving upward into a smile. Well, there is something to be said for confidence. "I'm simply wondering your skills so that we can coordinate. I do best when I am...well, not being actively stabbed, but I suppose that could be said for anyone," she says, pursing her lips. "I am best with healing, protective wards, etc. I have other abilities, but all function best when I'm farther away from the people that want to kill me. Is Amelris a warrior as well? Does he have the use of magic?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha, as he lets Inga start her interrogations, gently slumps in his seat, subtly turns and then less subtly leans his head against her shoulder, as he nibbles on a cookie. A decidely feline gesture, as he slow closes his eyes and tries to absorb more chill.     Everything hurts and that includes his psyche. He used up a lot of himself last night. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna nods, putting down her teacup. Gently. "I've always been a front line kind of fighter. Conjury didn't sit well with me, nor the bow. You've seen me work as a paladin, but I have some skill with pugilism too. It's a lot easier to fistfight without all the armour weighing me down." She leans back, going distant-eyed. "Amelris... now his kind of magic is /interesting/. I've never seen a mage that blended magic and swordplay like that before." She sounds quite taken, whether with Amelris or with red magic. One of them. Perhaps both. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' % The witch smiles fondly and tucks an arm around Raha comfortably, listening to Alruna. An eyebrow rises slightly as she talks about Amelris and this 'red magic'. They do have a tendancy to describe magics with colors here. What would that even make her? White, black, and blood. There's a small smile as she notes that look. "I see, so he does have use of magic. It sounds as though he must be flexible in that case," she muses. "I can speak for this Emperor, but I do know Lezard. He hates me. Maybe we can use that." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha makes a vague noise as he's hugged, and sighs, resting against his seer. "He's got mixxes of both conjury and abjuration. He can heal and he can throw fire and ice and he's got... fancy sword play in there too. He's an all arounder, and most of it hurts. So." A vague shrug with a shoulder. "He'll tell you I've vastly oversimplifying the way of the red mage or something." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna grins. "No doubt." she agrees with N'raha. "There seems to be much malus between you. You said to target the wizard instead of the Emperor yesterday," she glances at banged up and battered N'raha. "And you're our leader so I followed your lead, but I think that was a mistake." she says bluntly. "Your judgement was compromised." The air is heavy with the pause after that sentence before her brows knit together. "What happened to you?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' With a nod, she pours a cup for herself, one handed. "I see. I'm sure you would oversimplify what I do as well," she laughs. "I admit, I was annoyed...my anger wasn't even entirely for Lezard. But I do know him, and he's dangerous. Arrogant though, and I believe we can get him to make a mistake. Maybe," she sighs. She then looks to Raha. He can speak for himself. She'd admonished him enough. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The main floor of the little FC House is decked out in a table and chairs for eating, a small kitchen for cooking, and some couches and chairs in front of a TV. It's around the table that the trio that are already here are seated. There's also tea and nibblets.     Raha gets called out and properly so, as he sits up. "That's because I was compromised. I was compromised and I was lost in the Beast and I was of... little use." He sighs and wilts. "I can only apologize as best I can, after the fact. No excuse." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna leans on the table, cupping her chin. She breathes in, then out, slowly. "So what do we do about it?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Train," Inga answers. "We're open to suggestion. I was thinking about getting him really angry...then making him do math," she replies, cup held before her lips. She gives Raha the side-eye. Siiiiip. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman makes a vague disheartened noise at Inga's suggestion, and then blughs. "I'm no good at maths unless it's cooking, you know that." He huffs and slumps in his chair, petulant for all of a moment, before the seriousness of the situation sets in. "Clearly I should not be in charge of the party, until such time I can be trusted with that."     He frowns at his own suggestion. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna cocks her head, still resting in her hands. "That seems drastic. Minfilia still trusts you, doesn't she? /We/ trust you. Aren't there other Warriors who can mentor you, teach you how to control that inner beast?" She suddenly remembers she has tea that's cooling, and picks up her cup again, scoffing another of the astoundingly sweet cookies she bought before she came over. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods in agreement with Alruna. "I agree, that is an excellent suggestion. Someone to mentor you, who knows your art. I can help you with meditation techniques and what not, but a mentor, I think, is essential," she replies, sipping her tea. She still wants to try the math thing though. Maybe...angry baking? 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha lets out a vague sigh, and then wilts. "Inga trusted me too and-" He cuts himself off, and mmmmhs. They were both right, of course. He WAS still a valuable asset to the Scions. Even if his brain wasn't right. "It's been a while, but... there's some? I havn't seen Curious Gorge in some while. Or Broken Mountain." He shrugs a shoulder. "Probably worth a visit." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head. "Stop berating yourself for that. I'm fine now," she says. She looks good as new, really, if a little tired. "Well, let's see if we can find someone. You have a network of people with the Scions, have them spread the word. And until a mento can be found, we'll see what we can do." % "I hope we ill get to speak with Amelris as well, be sure we are in agreement. And figure out the next step." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna reaches out to clap N'raha's shoulder. "We're here to help, N'raha." She beams at him. So much so she threatens to just blind the two of them with actual sunshine. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Mmm. Thanks." The pat on his shoulder gets a little wince out of Raha though, as he wriggles a bit in his spot at the table. Still sore. He slides the teapot over and pours himself a fresh cup and then goes back to leaning on Inga. "I'm still going to let others take the lead in the Crystal Tower investigation. For now, anyways." His tail swishes a bit against the chair. "Untill I can get back to my senses, in any case." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods, frowning gently. "If that is what you think is best," she replies. "You need not be in charge...it can be a group effort," she says. "It is your world. Consult with Amelris as well. With the Scions. We will have to deal with the Emperor, sooner rather than later." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Oops. Alruna withdraws her hand. Eventually, she nods in agreement. "If that's what it takes. We need to talk to Amelris too, definitely." She flexes her fingers. "If worst comes to worst, I can beat you unconscious and drag you back here for Inga to take care of you." she grins. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga laughs. "I do just about the same, except not physically. I sort of...hit him right in the Echo," she explains. "Well. I'm going to attempt to talk to Staren. Maybe he knows where G'Raha is...and would be willing to tell me." 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna nods. That seems like a good spot to conclude. She drains the rest of her cup and bolts up, pulling on her gloves. "I'm going go explore the Tower further. Perhaps beat up that one thing we missed on the way in last time. He seemed lonely." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha snorts at tht and sits up. "Have you found a proper place to stay, Alruna?" He shuffles p to his feet, slowly, and then sighs as he starts to fuss about with the tray of snacks and more plates. 

:'''{{#var:7175|Alruna Greengate (7175)}} has posed:''' Alruna mmms. "I'm kinda just bunking at the Rising Stones at the moment." she replies, leaning over the table to pluck a hard candy out of the pile and pop it in her mouth. 
}}

7026/FATE: We Need A Bigger Boat

2020-02-18T04:51:59Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/01/31 |Location=Camp Drybone, Eorzea |Synopsis=Arkae and her crew manage to heist a fat blockade runner airship from a smug potato. |Cast of C..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/01/31
|Location=Camp Drybone, Eorzea
|Synopsis=Arkae and her crew manage to heist a fat blockade runner airship from a smug potato.
|Cast of Characters=819, 7201, 6860, 7213
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Let it never be said that rich people are the best at handling assets. This is not a slight on Bibiwede Didiwede. He's got a seat on the Council in Ul'dah. He's got the cash to back that seat up. Hell. He even had more than enough cash to refit... well. This monstrosity.     "This Monstrosity" is currently hovering 20 feet off the ground on the south side of Camp Drybone in Eastern Thanlalan. It's also not named. "This Monstrosity", It's the "Incidental Profit". And the Incidental Profit is currently picking up cargo. A small army of wagons are busy rolling on up inside of the lower access ports, chocobos squawking and bustling, as carts laden with ores and stones are hauled on inside. Bibiwede himself is all the way up on deck of the slow, flanked by a set of Brass Blades, and is doing calculations. "Right! We sould be fully loaded in a bell or so. Tell the crew I want us up and moving as quick as possible! Time is money, friend! Time is money!" He chuffs at himself. This bloody thing was going to pay for itself in just a few trips. The little tator tot waddles over towards one of the voice tubes and starts yelling. "Mr. Percival! I want that lift crystal hot and ready to go when we're taking off!" There's a reply grumbling from... wherever engineering is, and the crew goes about their business. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Arkae's doing her own calculations. Namely, she's calculating how much the cargo is worth and how many rounds it'll buy her if she manages to sell it all off. This here, this is the stuff of adventuring. Everyone in Eorzea (at least, most that she hears on the radio) talks up how corrupt the merchants are and how they have a grip on the beating lifeblood of the heart of Thanalan or... something like that. Bad people. Therefore by definition, stealing from bad people is a good act! Arkae is a good person. (Arkae pings as firmly Chaotic Neutral on any reliable detect alignment spell.) The plan put forth by the tengu alchemist, after giving it some thought, is simple: board the airship and take it over and fly it away. When it turns out that this is maybe too simple, she amends: board the airship *QUICKLY* and then take it over *QUICKLY* and then fly it away *QUICKLY*. Potions of jumping are passed out to those who need them, and Arkae chugs her own vial of the glowing sky blue liquid. Her group holds behind cover in Camp Drybone till their other preparations are done, a countdown is made, and then- -The tengu runs out and leaps high up, trying to clear the distance from the ground to the bow of the ship all in one go, or if not then to get up high enough to grab on and climb up to the top deck. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt was bored. A bored Katt sometimes goes out and picks a fight just because she can. That may explain why she volunteered to come along as muscle. She is a little less interested in profit, though she won't turn it down; she just wanted to do something, and Arkae's idea had pretty good odds of that. Katt, too, considers herself a good person. So why not go mess with the bad people's loot? (She, likes Arkae, did absolutely no checking as to whether this was true ahead of time; she took Arkae's word for it, which may or may not have been a mistake.) Katt turned down Arkae's potion but liked the general idea. Which is why she's gone along with it, except her approach doesn't involve a bottle. Instead, it involves her running out from the brush at top speed, cat-paw staff in hand, until she plants one end of it on the ground - And literally vaults herself upward. Twenty feet is doable for her, though she doesn't actually land on the deck; she splats into the side of the ship and begins to climb, digging in with her claws to get a good grip as she ascends with the staff kind of wedged under one arm. It looks more awkward than it is. Well, no, it's pretty awkward but she's not going to admit that. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' It turns out Arcadia isn't all that hard to convince to assist. Really all it takes is giving her the oppritunity to show off, to the potential opponents and her allies alike. That it's disrupting some supposed corruption in the local economy that's supposedly undermining social stabilities with hording all the wealth and valuable materials for themselves is a morale bonus. As she comes from a culture that puts value on knowledge and contribution over pure wealth, and this wealth is not being contributed to society very practically! The sphinx doesn't need the potion, though the effort to supply assistance is appreciated. She can already fly, and extremely fast at that. Fast enough that the sonic boom can be heard like thunder overhead, and she's already diving onto the deck by the time the rumble passes. Wings spread and her aetheric thrusters switch to hover mode while elemental energies can already be seen charging around her arms. "Sorry folks, there has been a chance in the flight plans, due to high winds!" Courtesy of her that is, as she points one hand at a group of the Brass Blades, being the ones most obviously armed, and unleashes the airbust to blow them backwards and give her partners in trouble some extra time to get up on the ship. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     So say that they weren't prepared for this is... well, putting it mildly. There four or five Blades up on the deck are scattered by Arcadia's sonic boom, the beefy roes and hyurs scattering on the deck, swords and bows scattering from the force of the attack.     Bibiwede Didiwede himself is at least able to squawk and scatter himself inside of... well, it's probably the bridge or the captains quarters or something similar to that. There's the frantic noises of furniture moving, and then loud hollaring... which reaches the deck through little loudspeakers. "YOU! YOU! WHO ARE YOU! GET OFF MY SHIP! GUARDS! GET THEM!"     The men and ladies up on deck are picking themselves back up, and there's more stomping around below decks. There's an uncomfortable whine building up in the innards of the ship, and dockworkers are frantically trying to get carts off the ship before it does something silly like take off with the holds open. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Arkae shouts some quick orders through her radio, and then races across the deck towards where Bibiwede disappeared from. The consensus seems to be that his disappearance coincided with the shouting of orders over the loudspeakers, so... he's probably in charge. Useful! Katt is hopefully dealing with the present guards and any others that respond to the alarm, and Arkae trusts that the... cat-person? Khajiit? Neko-American? Catfolk? Leonin? Jellicle? Bah, it's the situation with the rabbit all over again. Whatever she is, Arkae trusts that she'll be able to cover the tengu as she focuses in on the leader. Presumably, there's a door between her and the leader. Fortunately, Arkae has a sword. She has lots of swords, and there is but one door. This is the sort of math that Arkae likes. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Arcadia glances over her shoulder to smirk at Arkae and Katt for a moment, then back to the matter at hand. Her visor flickers to a reddish hue as she switchs to the infrared enchantment, which brings up a -lot- of readings from various humanoids and workbirds on and around the cargo craft. That's a lot of people to keep from moving around too much... But she has just the sort of thing for this. She reverse dashes, throwing one hand up in a mock salute to the guards before backflipping off the deck and over the railing. Reorienting in the air she looks down to spot one of the open holds and the workers scrambling to get valuables out of the ship again. The sphinx waggles a finger at the general group. "Tsk tsk. Don't you know it's dangerous to disembark an aircraft while it's powering up? Someone skipped out on the pre-flight safety regulations I think." Arcadia disengages a few of her magitek funnel bits, sending them forward to line up at the sides of the openings. Electric sparks flicker around the devices and then shoots out to form a circuit with one on the opposite side, and make a barrier of the arcs to barricade the hold. To a degree. There's gaps between the beams that can be jumped through if people dare, but it's going to be harder to push those carts through without damaging them or their contents. Of course while she's making a show of doing this she's wide open to being shot at or whatever else people around here do. Did some of the guards have bows? She didn't bother paying that much attention. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' This is exciting! Katt has never been a pirate before. "Can you even call yourself a pirate if you take over a land ship?" she asks herself, as she scrambles up the side of the ship. "Does it have another word?" This never came up before. She spends a moment thinking about that while she hangs just under the edge of the deck, getting herself and her staff into position. Katt vaults up from the side and literally into one of the groups of guards. She is not adverse to bowling some over with the force of her arrival, and spins her staff in front of her as she does to shield herself from wild panicked slashes. It also makes her very obvious, which is good because it covers for the others doing their thing. "Hey!" she says, before raising her voice: "HEY! Who wants some? I'll take you all on, one at a time or all at once! C'mon, you want a piece of this?" She actually sticks her tongue out, tail lashing in amusement. "Bring it on, you wimps!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh, if you thought these poor guys were trying to UNLOAD the cargo, you'd be sorely mistaken. Especially with a high powered beastlady magitek person in the ship with them. Anyone who hadn't already, is quickly abandoning their carts and scrambling every which way they can through that field shaping, taking the shocks if it means getting off the ship.     That said, that scan indicates to the Enforcer that this ship, as inelegant as it is on the outside, has actually been laid out with more care inside. There's a massive heat source aft, probably through that bulkhead over there marked uh... well, it's in Eorzean, so she'll have to guess it's 'Engineering'. THAT is connected to larger crystal in the middle of the hold, which appears to be giving the ship its buoyancy.     There's also a rind of smaller crystals on the inner bits of the ship, all bolted together in a giant harness. Give the Garleans their props, they know how to make a reliable, modular design.     Oh, also there are a pair of people carrying long guns in the engineering room. Or. Uh. Swords. Sword guns? Gun Swords. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Up top, the Brass Blades are joined by three more of their number who are fleeing up from Arcadia's nonsense downstairs. They skitter to a halt and pull out... oh, hells. Staves. Magic users. The lalafell yelps and a blast of ice crashes across the deck of the ship in Katt's direction, while razor sharp winds buffet Arkae from the other one. And then the armed Blades move in. One and two are quickly batted away by Katt, but they're going to need a plan.     Akrae is chopping at the door, and inside Bibiwede can be seen frantically screaming into one of those voice tubes. But the noise isn't coming to the deck. Hmmm. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Arkae takes some hits, but she remains focused on the door in front of her. It's like checkers, if you take your opponent's king then the whole game's over, right? Through a literal crack in the door, she can see that he's shouting something. For not the first time, Arkae wishes her particular flavor of magic was not solely potion-based right now... Some sort of normal old silence spell would be nice. How can Arkae reach him to shut him up, when he's this far away? It's a puzzle. What tools does she have available to solve puzzles right now? "Oh, duh," she says to herself, reaching into her bag of holding, and drawing forth the Adventurer's Best Friend: an 11-foot long pole, which she tries to shove through the cracks in the door in order to jab Bibiwede in the stomach to shut him up. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' "C'mon, don't you want to fight - whoop!" That was the ice. Katt practically dances away from the crashing ice, but there's not a whole lot of room to maneuver without going back over the side of the airship, and - given she just came up from there - she would rather not do that. Which means she's pressed when the armed Blades move in. Katt has a staff too, but she doesn't use it to cast anything; she sweeps the butt end of it low to try to trip the first that approaches, then swings the whole length like an extra-long baseball bat to knock the second into him. A third will be a problem. "Coming through!" Katt is not really trying to beat any one of them into a pulp. She's trying to make a knot of absolute chaos, which is much easier - though if she can manage it without getting stabbed too badly that would be best. Step one: open up an area around her. She uses the length of her staff to jab, trying to keep the mages off their game - she would rather not have a better-aimed chunk of ice drop onto her head! 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Arcadia does nothing to stop the people that have the common sense to bail out of the cargo airship. It's possible the gaps in the electric grid were specifically left large enough to do so, just they're not going to be able to carry much in illicit goods in doing so. Which is good enough. The ship itself is their main target, after all. Which is what she turns her attention to now. This is clearly magitek engineering, but it's not anything like what she possesses or has seen before. She can only presume these energized crystals are utilized in the same way her flight systems use hyperglass for conduction and focusing, that's well out of her field of actual knowledge. It's not her job to know how her stuff works, just to use it. The movement with the odd gun-sword-things is at the perepherial of her vision, but Arcadia doesn't bother with them. If they come after her, she'll welcome the challenge. But otherwise she's collecting information for her masters. And whoever Arkae gets to keep this air barge running once they've jacked it. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It takes some poking, but that stick finally manages to JAB right in Bibiwede's belly, the portly little fellow toppling over and hacking and coughing and thankfully not losing his lunch in there. There's still a desk in the way of the door, but that should be... easier to handle, right?     Katt is putting up quite the resistance. The casters aren't used to monks doing that sort of bullshit, that's for sure, but these lot haven't really faced anyone tougher than a drunk in some time. Never let it be said the Brass Blades hired the best and the brightest. Katt plows through a big fellow with a sword and shield, and manages to clock out the thaumaturge. There's the ice handled, at least.     But Resistance is wavering. Mainly because there's Blades scampering overboard, leaving that lone conjurer up on deck, standing with her staff out, looking... very anxious.     Below deck, the bulkhead door opens, and there's a motion, as a thickly precise received pronunciation Imperial voice carries out the door. "If you enter this door, Eorzean, we will all die. My compatriot is ready to set off this Ceruleum engine. Do not test us." 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' An actual voice gets Arcadia's full attention, partially in that it doesn't sound the same as all the mooks that have been scattering about. The sphinx turns her attention towards the opening bulkhead, scoffing a bit of a snicker as she does. "Well a good start would to not test *us* by assuming we're more of the local rubes," she retorts. Could she rush the bulkhead with her speed and stop someone from blowing the thing out? Most likely. Would she know -who- or -what- to stop from doing so? Not so much, which puts their intended prize at risk. She may be brave and brash, but she's not stupid. Not when surrounded by such a potential wonder to lay claim to, at least. Instead the sphinx tilts her head to the side a little in regard of the new arrival. "By the willingness to blow everything up, including yourself, I'd hazard a guess you're either being paid -really- well, or don't care too much for the loudmouth upstairs." 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' Note to self: get some sort of... shrinking potion. Or way to get through tight spaces. For now, Arkae pulls out and tosses aside the 11-foot pole, and then resumes hacking and/or shoving her way in as appropriate. If she's able to get in, she just simply tries to pin the leader down with one foot while she gets a handle on the loudspeaker. "Hi! I'm in control of the ship and I have the captain pinned down right here!" she calls, cheerfully into both of the tubes he was yelling into. "Surrender, or you die!" she adds, in the same tone of someone announcing that ice cream was bogo at the grocery store when she did the shopping. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt didn't get through unscathed - she caught a couple glancing blows and a shield to the stomach that knocked the wind out of her - but a win is a win and she's going to pretend she's in better shape than she is. She slides the dropped thaumaturge out of the way with one foot as she approaches the conjurer. If you were being racially insensitive you could describe her grin as 'cat that got the canary'; mostly she is just very pleased with herself. "You can run off instead," she says, helpfully. "I know you're a healer. It's the staff, right? It's bigger than the other ones and that means healer here." She raises her own staff as if to emphasize it. "But if you do ANYTHING else I'm going to smack you so hard you won't know what hit you until tomorrow!" She hears noise. Katt's ear twitches, but she can't make out the speech to Arcadia or whatever Arkae is doing. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "...or you diiiiie" echoes out of the engine room.     There's a quiet shift in the atmosphere, something more dangerous, something much more tense as the last of the Brass Blades uses the confusion to scramble to... well. Scramble. Anywhere but here.     There's a quiet back and forth in the engine room. Male voice and female voice, in rapid fire tones.     And then someone appears out of the Engine room. Tall-ish. Grease covered, ashen haired. World weary. A pair of goggles clamp to his face, he's got a wrench in one hand, and a long barrel handgun in the other. "My name is Savlens cen Titeus. This is MY engine." There's something worried in the man's face. More than fear. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' The difference between the engineer and the rest of the people that fled this operation is even more stark when he comes into view. And not just talking about the being covered in grease. Interesting. Sidebangs swish as Arcadia tilts her head the other way. She's not visibly armed, but this guy can probably tell her armor is magitek in the same way she could tell the ship operated on magitek, it's just very different magitek. "Your engine," she repeats. "... But not your airship." The sphinx doesn't really do 'nonthreatening' when it comes to appearances, but she at least attempts by clapsing her handpaws behind her back and not looking like she might immeadiately try to beat the crap out of him, even if she doesn't look too threatened by the large gun either. "Do you really want to be busting your ass for someone that's just going to horde all the wealth earned from your hard work for himself?" Okay negotiation really isn't her thing, but she's at least attempting to keep him thinking about something instead of just shooting her. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "Hi! Engineer person!" calls Arkae over the loudspeaker. "Wait right there, my associate is going to talk to you," she adds, a moment after Arcadia finishes speaking. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a lady's voice spitting an eptitet back at Arkae, but nothing more. Sounded a little like 'more savages?' 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "...No dear, these are... very much not Eorzeans." Titeus shifts a bit again, and gently places himself directly between the door and Arcadia. "Offworlders, then. What... what would you want with an airship? Don't you people have... void ships and great bloody death rays?" 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt is still covering the conjurer while making sure the fallen Blades don't get up, staff resting on her shoulder. She looks like she's just *waiting* for an excuse to let loose with it, and it doesn't seem she's real picky on the targeting. It was a nice short fight, but she's still raring to go. Also it lets her talk to Arkae anr Arcadia for a moment, which she does, under her breath. Her brow furrows. "Hey, how many engineers are there on this thing?" she asks the conjurer Blade. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "I want something reliable," says Arkae over the engine room loudspeaker. "All of that, the... void and death stuff. It's impressive, sure, but I want something more solid that I can rely on." "And I was told that this world had fairly solid ships. That they've got a mastery of... stuff. The magic used to make them go. I know magic, and I trust that a hell of a lot more than sparkly fuse-on engines or whatever they're using on the death voiders." 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Arcadia murmurs into her comm presumably to whoever is on the other end of the loudspeakers. This was Arkae's idea, the why is as much her thing to answer as anyone else. Which she does. The sphinx grins a little afterwards. "Death rays may exist but they tend to be impractical and messy. Why blow up everything and have nothing to make use of afterwards?" Wings flick as she shrugs softly. "Yeah, and that. Reliable. Practical." She unfolds her hands and holds them up, gesturing towards the crystal arrays and what not. "And this is pretty impressive, even compared to what I've seen before! That you can get it to work on this BOAT," emphasized as in 'it's clearly meant to have been a water ship and not fly' "Says something about the magitek -and- the skill of it's crafters." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The lady's voice again, much more harried than Titeus. "And so you... what, liberate a scow from the Syndicate? Do you have any idea what this fool spent to get this... thing made? He won't let you get away with this."     "Dear." Chiding. "...forgive my partner, she is the brains of this operation and we're... Not even supposed to be here. ...Not that you lot probably care about the politics of Hydaelyn."      

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "Listen, as far as the Syndicate or whatever... sorry, I don't think I got your names. I'm Arkae Zellar, Fearless of the Concord." "But listen, I don't care *too* much about people coming after me? I take what I want, and I'm either strong enough to defend what I've taken... or I'm not, and it wasn't meant to be mine to begin with." "If they think they can make me 'not get away with this', they're welcome to try." "Also, sorry, if you're calling your current employer a 'fool'... maybe it's time for a job change?" 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Despite their somewhat mechanical appearance Arcadia's ears perk forward much like a normal cat's would at the commentary from farther back. Then she laughs a bit. "Not other than it's a lot by local standards. All the more reason to take and put it to better use, if you ask me." Then turns her gaze back to Titeus. "Not really. At least not related to this... though now I am curious about the 'not suppose to be here' part now. Are you prisoners? Exiles?" Her tail sways a little, curiousity even moreso perked now. She cocks her head towards the loudspeaker. "Maybe you should offer them a job keeping your airship running. Probably pay better than that short snake you trapped up there." 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt keeps an eye on the unconscious ones, but they don't seem like they're going to get up immediately, and Katt is not the sort of person who hits people when they're down (usually); she has no particular beef with these guys, and so she lets them be. Instead she heads toward the captain's quarters to meet back up with Arkae - but backwards so she can watch and make sure nobody is pulling a fast one on her. She catches about half of the conversation, her ears flicking again as it becomes more intelligible with proximity. "So are they giving up or what?" Katt asks Arkae, low enough that the speaker might not pick it up. Might. Though Arkae has the controls so it's probably fine. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Titeus snorts joylessly. "Exiles. Something like that. The Alliance deigns itself to take in grand names like Nero tol Scaeva, but... the rank and file? Tch. Left to fend for ourselves."     There's a clatter from behind the bulkhead, and the sound of the engine spinning up again. "Titeus, I'm lifting taking us up. We need to be out of here before the Immortal Flames get here!" The engineer's eyes go wide and he grumbles. "Come on, you. Up on deck. We need to away from here post haste." He snaps his goggles back into place over his eyes, revealing a dull white gem in the center of his forehead. Then he's moving to get the hatches secured. 

:'''{{#var:7213|Arcadia (7213)}} has posed:''' Or the Warriors of Light or whatever it was they called themselves. Though Arcadia doesn't say that out loud, no need to get everything all tensed up again. "She's right. Get the ship someplace less obvious and you can talke to Arkae directly about things an--" Or right, the cargo hold. "I'll go shut that, you go talk." The sphinx spins on her heels and scampers back to disengage her lightning grid bits and find the control level to actually shut the hold up before they get too high into the air. 

:'''{{#var:7201|Arkae Zellar (7201)}} has posed:''' "Right!" says Arkae. She goes in search of a steering wheel, or something familiar she can manipulate. They've got the airship, they've got (most of) the cargo, they've got new camp followers (backspace backspace backspace backspace) new trained professionals for their cause. 
}}

7030/What Do You Mean I Need A Vet

2020-02-18T04:50:43Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2020/01/21 |Synopsis=Inga and Silica combine efforts to fix Raha's damn ear that he keeps busting |Cast of Characters=819, 973, 525 |pretty=yes }}..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/01/21
|Synopsis=Inga and Silica combine efforts to fix Raha's damn ear that he keeps busting
|Cast of Characters=819, 973, 525
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha is currently in the residential section of the little home he shares with Inga in the Mist which is also one of the erstwhile bases of the Warriors of Light. It's nice to have a friend with extra couches to crash on, isn't it?     His freshly laundered, his black hair dried out and frizzy. He's in a tank top and pyjama pants, and is holding very still on a cushion in the living room. "I know this is... I..." He huffs. His left ear flicks irritably, his tail poofs a bit at the end. His right ear is flat and limp against his head. "I just want it working again and just tossing magical healing at it hasn't been working."     A glance over his shoulder. "No offense, Inga." 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Silica... or more accurately, Keiko Ayano, places a hand between those ears atop the catman's head. "Calm down. Just relax, okay?" she coos... Keiko is a far cry from the young-seeming Cait Sith that shares her voice. She's a young human woman, early 20s. Slender and entirely unsuited to adventuring life... or so it seems.     She's using a calming tone, but may come off as patronizing or condescending. "Just let me check what's actually wrong first... can you still hear anything through it? Like, just muffled because the cartillage is deformed, or are you entirely deaf on that side?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is in residence as well, though she is currently chopping herbs in the kitchen with perhaps a bit more force than strictly necessary. "I told you that it needed to be re-set but you didn't want me touching it," she says loud enough for them to hear. CHOP! LOUD CHOPPING! "Not my fault I'm not a bloody veternarian," she grumbles. More loud chopping follows. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha grumps a bit. "It's... It's muted and feels like it's all washy. Like I'm wearing muffs." A grumble and a flick of his tail. "Healing gets it to work fine for a little bit and then it just... goes back to where it is now."     The loud chopping gets him to sigh and slump his shoulders. 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Keiko looks over toward Inga. "Men can be stubborn sometimes. Don't take it so personally. I've had to band together with Miss Asuna, Miss Lizbeth and Miss Sinon to make Mister Kirito and Mister Klein go to the doctors before." she tries to assuage the upset healer.     The young woman then turns back. "Well, that sounds like there's no internal damage, it just can't properly filter the air waves coming in due to the deformation... lets take a little look at it."     Keiko's fingers lightly trace around the limp ear. "Hold onto something, this may sting a little." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is prickly. Raha isn't the only one who's had a bad couple of weeks. It was perhaps a slight that at other times she would brush off, but right now...yes, she's a bit cross. Maybe she'll go see if /Alruna/ appreciates her healing. Hmph. "Men are /often/ stubborn and I have very little patience for it," she grumbles. She could have perhaps offered him something to dull the pain, but... Well, she didn't. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A sigh from Raha. "Yeah but she's my... well. My partner and my usual healer." Household discord, ahoy. The warrior cat shifts a bit, kneeling more firmly on the cushion, and he gingerly tilts his bad ear upwards a bit, making it easier for Keiko to get at. He doesn't seem to be bracing himself any more than usual, though. 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Keiko teases fingers around the limp ear flap. While lightly lifting it, she's tracing where the deformation has occured with her other hand, fingers tracing lightly.     The young woman is lost in the task, largely losing track of what Inga and Raha are actually doing. And then she pushes in firmly, while pulling the earflap up. An audible crack sounds as the cartillage realigns itself. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The crack is met with a rather interesting noise from the catman. A lion's rumble of discomfort but not pain. No yelping, just... irritation and frustration and his hand PUNCHES at his hip with a SLAP of noise. 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Keiko exhales. "How does that feel now? Be careful for a few days and make sure you keep it bound so the cartillage can settle back into place properly... though you'll probably have a permanent droop on that side and eventually it'll not be able to support itself properly... but that's an old person problem."     Keiko then steps out and around, leaning over with a smile. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Old person problem, how old do you think I am?" N'raha huffs and puffs, though the scars on his arms and the beard on his chin aren't helping with that particular complaint of his. Nor the cooler look in his eyes. That said, a hand is moving up to prod lightly at the ear.. before he sighs, and shuffles up from his sit.     "...thanks though." He sighs, and holds up a bandaged hand. Not like, bandages from cuts though. Compression bandages, like he's working on keeping himself in one piece. "Promise to take it easy. Doc."     He's a terrible liar. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "He won't take it easy," she says, leaning against the doorway now, arms crossed over her apron. "She's not saying you are old, only that you will probably have problems with the ear when you get older," she adds. Inga looks to Keiko. "I will try to keep him from messing it up again," she adds. 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Keiko huffs softly, and boops Raha on the nose. "I was saying that you'll have a problem when you /get/ older, silly." she clarifies.. "Y'know, grey hair, creaky joints."     Though the compression bandages make her jovial mood temper slightly. "... now I'm just reminded of Mister Kirito..." she sighs, glancing at Inga when she speaks. "This is all I can do... it'll need time to heal. But time is likely not a luxury anyone can afford these days." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha makes a noise like 'who says i'm getting older' but doesn't argue. The Boop is unexpected though, and he rubs his nose afterwards.     He also shuffles over to the little healers kit in the corner of the room, and start pulling out more gauze and a little popscile stick splint. "No. Promise entirely. Taking it easy." He sits down on a chair closer to Inga and the dining room, and he plants the splint along his ear, flicks it into place as best he can, and starts to tape it up. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks downright puzzled at the nose boop and what could easily be misinterpreted as flirting. But as it is right in front of her, Inga must assume this girl is just eccentric. Inga sighs heavily, limps over and smacks Raha's hand away from his head. "I'll do it," she says, and continues to gingerly wrap and tape it. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Ow." Raha has at least the sense of purpose to say 'ow' when his girlfriend swats him. Even if it doesn't actually hurt.     He blows a defeated noise through his nose, and stops helping. 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Silica watches the pair, bows quietly then turns to head out of the door. 
}}

6917/The Works Lost to the Cold and Dark

2019-12-18T14:14:39Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/12/04 |Location=Ketchikan, Alaska |Synopsis=The Concord, lead by Priscilla, come to exact both revenge and their pound of flesh from both the..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/12/04
|Location=Ketchikan, Alaska
|Synopsis=The Concord, lead by Priscilla, come to exact both revenge and their pound of flesh from both the Nameless Servant and the Watch in general
|Cast of Characters=70, 6999, 906, 1094, 714, 894, 6730, 42, 446, 6928, 819, 525, 7055, 6994
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6f3j4okhb8o     There is no warning to the sleepy little town of Ketchikan. Not even minutes before. Long enough for the town council to pass down an evacuation order and civilians to get clear is long enough for the Watch to scuttle its assets and merge into the rest of the fleeing crowd. It's regrettable, but it's reality. Whether the First regrets it, nobody can tell. It's the subject of hushed arguments and murmuring conversations between the men.     Indeed there are men. The blow dealt to the Grand Dorado security council's pride was so unignorably severe that the bravest volunteers amongst them had insisted on being here. Hard men. Motivated men. Experienced men. Most of them quasi-Elite men of the line, dressed in the Concord's black, gold and saffron tactical, bearing rifles, swords, and packs of equipment. Even a trio of Elites of higher posts are overseeing them; commanders in the middle ranks of the security forces. A woman with a large, dark hat and an onyx jewelled gold staff, a young man in double breasted captain's garb with an oversized, ornate sword, and an older gentleman with just a hint of metal visible between his tactical gloves and his sleeves strapped with battle rattle.     The procession moves through the forested mountainside, spread out through several thick groves of massive Alaskan pines, rockslide formations, and ice fissures. In the shadow of the trees, with the sun setting over the mountain behind them, some monitor the ordinary suburban building, hiding in plain sight, with goggles, parabolics, scanners, and motion sensors, while others hastily and surreptitiously scrawl magic circles on the frozen rocks, aligned with the leyline under the mountain, and yet others assemble portable artillery and drone stations.     A team intending to raid the Watchtower would be meticulously triple checking their data, secretly herding out civilians, creating a perimeter, encircling the area, stacking up. This formation isn't for busting the cell and confiscating their materiel. This formation is for flushing out terrorists and shooting them in the back.     There is a long, treacherous, snowy incline between the fireteam and the bunkhouse on the very edge of civilization. Beyond that, the rest of the small Alaskan town, settling down early. Beyond that, the ice cold waters of the sea.     The First is not yet present --no, she likely is. She was probably here before anyone else. Direction of operations has been handed down, however, to the three security captains. She has no intention of maintaining strategic oversight. That means she has entirely dedicated herself to something she alone believes she can do.     "Teams Aleph, Sin, Lam, all ready. All specialists, sound off." 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''      I am the bone of my sword.      The Ketchikan Watchtower is not much. It's less than not much. It's a shitty little place in a shitty little suburb of a shitty little state so far out of the way most people barely even know it exists. The only full-time inhabitant is a man with dark skin and white hair who comes and goes as he pleases, occasionally stopping in at the supermarket. Nobody in the town knows his name, but they've talked to him. He puts on a good smile. He puts on a good lie.      The lie comes off today.      The Nameless Gunner knows what is coming. Hell, he's counting on it. He's been preparing for it. Building for it. He knows that Evil is coming for him, because that's what Evil does when it's backed into a corner: it squads up and chases down the thing it hates. That's good. It means that his fingers in Staren's brain left an impression, that the blood of people who were under Evil's thumb made them nervous, rattled them, or angered them. It means there was a reaction.      He can guide a reaction.      Indeed that is what he intends to do.      They're going to come with force. Indeed, outside, he can already see it. He can see them mustering. He can't see the First, but that's fine. He knows she'll come for him. She has no choice but to come to him. The Head will come for him personally, and that will be his opportunity.      And they can see him.      That's the worst part. That he's there, in the window. He's not even hiding himself. He's chopping some meat with a cleaver. Like he's cooking dinner in the little house he's cleaned up, fixed up, made into a home. It's a spartan home, for sure, but it's a home nonetheless, and seeing this man, this killer, chopping food like it's nothing, like there's no problem, like nothing is wrong, Is he mocking them? Does he not know what's out there?      How thoroughly is the game he's playing planned, and by how many moves? How extensively has this monster arranged his own execution? This thing that does Evil to eliminate Evil...how much of what he's doing is calculated, right now? 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Somewhere in town, as the Concord comes marching up, Yang Xiao Long is leaning against a wall in a dark alleyway. <"Blackbird, this is Luang. Hornets are in the bee's nest. Copy?"> she radios via subvocal mic, watching the file troops march past. Nothing to see here, just a local wearing a hooded long cloak against the cold. Ignore the splash of blonde hair that escapes for a moment. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Flamel Parsons is here.     It's rare to see a man like Flamel in heavy psychonauts tactical gear. He has a rifle, an actual, hefty psitanium-laced psychic director that helps enhance his psychic blasts, as well as a form-fitting, lightly-armored, heavily psychic-enhancing black tactical turtleneck style outfit too.     A shimmer shifts. He's moving binoculars around. "Agent Parsons, Ready to go. Hey, uh, First! I see him. Looks like he's up on the window -- marking on your datafeed. Do we make our move, ma'am?" He's ready to break into a dash and invade the tower. unfortunately, the snow's going to cause a problem; his levitation and invisibility will let him bypass the average defender, but an Elite's savvy eye might be on the lookout for invisible combatants and notice the tracks of displaced levitated snow or footprints that he'll leave behind when he's given the signal to attack. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' Sanary wasn't expecting to fight today. She was expecting a simple night: Deliver some pigs for butchering, do a quick lesson for the amateur butchers that don't know how to even handle a pig, maybe mooch a meal off the Nameless Gunner and watch the local barfights before turning in for the night. All in all, it was supposed to be like any other day. As far as she knows, it still is. That's why she does't look like she's dressed for combat at all. She's lounging in one of the chairs in the house that the gunner's positioned in, one arm propped up on the back of the chair and... Not having her legs propped up on the table. That's just bad manners, even if she isn't the most refined dinner guest. "Want me to grab any drinks from next door? I dunno how long it'll be before the regulars show up and start trashing the place again." 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August Kohler is not outside with the others, playing spy. He's sitting in a chair, tapping his fingers against the armrest, sitting near Sanary. He's out of the view of the window, but he has allies to radio support. It's time. They're coming. Instead of getting ready to fight, however, he just tries to stay calm. But there's been a dilemma on his mind. And it makes him clearly uneasy. "Hey, Gunner. I probably won't get to talk to you again like this for a while. But...thank you. Your advice before has been extremely helpful, and I think it's helping me make a decision. So I appreciate it." It's sincere, but the unease is palpable. August is a regenerator. If he wasn't, his Persona would already be summoned. He just looks to Sanary, and says something simple. "Sanary, they're going to be coming soon. To kill us. Be prepared." 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:''' "This is madness..." Seventeen says to himself, sitting in a coat in one of the houses playing spy.  They were going to come eventually, and he was going to have to fight for this organization that right now he felt were supporting the actions of someone who actively betrayed their mission.  Sure, the line 'it wasn't for him, but for us' rang slightly hollow in his ears, but what was he to do?  Abandon people who needed him?  Let people in this town die when the Concord came for revenge? There was movement.  Seventeen's body went still, as he attempted to extend his sense of hearing out, trying to overcome the sound of the wind that normally whipped in this area.  Trying to see if he could hear anything that shouldn't be there. Swallowing, the Android prepared.  Maybe it was just his imagination, or maybe it wasn't.  Of course, it wasn't, there were too many sounds for it to be a trick of the wind.   Outside he walked, into the town.  Maybe he can attract their attention when the fireworks started. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren has misgivings about all this, afraid of what open, large-scale military conflict between the new factions will cause. But it's happening whether he likes it or not.     And Nameless's philosophy is anathema to him; that man needs to be stopped -- he may be able to do good in the short run, but it's like a Union elite who consciously decided to act like a Union elite, enforcing the 'I'll do this much good, but ONLY THAT MUCH' -- but where others simply don't SEE the truly greater good, Nameless does and has declared none shall do it.     Of course, he's right that Staren is fallable. Staren waited too long to kill Wireless -- and that was the old Staren, who just waited and hoped someone would save his friend from going evil. Because of that hesitation, countless died. He may make mistakes again, but at the end of the day, Staren believes he'll do more good than evil.     Nameless disagrees.     The Star Hawk stands among the Concord forces, a forty-foot metal humanoid... and mixed in among the volunteers is another army. A handful of robots in police-grade armor with rifles; mostly constructs, some man-size and some ten feet tall, some armed with kanobos and others with missile packs that allow the Concord forces to call in artillery strikes. There are even some of Morg McGee's acid-spitting clockwork spiders here, controlled by the undead reanimated brains of criminals Morg has slain; as well as the larger spider-constructs encased in stone and earth that the constructs reanimate as when slain thanks to Staren's magic.     ...And unbelievably, they actually have a visual on Nameless in a goddamn window. On the radio, Priscilla says not to hesitate or hold back, so Staren doesn't--he takes the shot. The mecha's arm raises into position, a hatch opens to expose the spinning barrels of the gatling railgun, and then trails of fire connect the robot and the watchtower as dozens of metal slugs are flung through the air so fast they burn from sheer friction. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Flamel Parsons moves the moment Staren fires.     A shimmer in motion. Can he be tracked? Is it possible to identify him in motion? Maybe with a close eye on the snow, or something like that, but in all those traditional senses upon which one might depend, he is invisible. That doesn't mean it's impossible to see what he's doing though. What he's doing is straightforward. He's opened fire, and flicked back into invisibility soon after each launch. And with each impact, each firework of sorts, a mass of horrible neon-green gas is released. Gas? No, it's not exactly a gas. It's more like a haze, a miasma, drifting along the wind.     It's horribly difficult to see through from within, it's disorienting, it's stunning, like some kind of psychic tear gas -- it's part of the opening volley, but more than that, it's shock and awe tactics, emphasis on shock. As it impacts near the site of the watchtower, it rises, a searing neon-green signpost of where to go, and something intended to break defenses before they form.     Flamel intends to make a fast, levitation-assisted rush down to the doors. It's not hard to recognize a psychic's work. If one intended to take revenge for what Parsons did to August, now would be the time to take it. On some level, perhaps, that's an important part of why Flamel offered to take part in something that involves more open conflict than he's often taken part in. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Princess Sarracenia is quite clueless about all of this. She is only here because she hadn't visited a watchtower before and figured a small out of the way tower would be a good one to start with. But, identities and alliegiences are a concern. If hard evidence of her being part of the Watch is discovered, the Sundew Kingdom could be at risk. So, she is in disguise as was suggested to her a short while ago. The outfit is still over extravagant, but it is much closer to what one would see on a sailor scout. It is all red with gold vine-like designs spiraling up and down along it. A set of full body tights makes up the underlayer, and a half-shirt with a large collar and a red rose on the chest along with a pleated red skirt make up the rest of the outfit, along with a red masquerade kind of mask to hide her face and a golden tiara rather than her usual crown. It won't stand up to any kind of real scrutiny thanks to her personality and her weapons, but at a glance it might do the trick.      Much like the others, she is still in the Watchtower as the Concord gathers and starts their approach, and really dosn't even have an idea that something is amiss until she hears some radio chatter. And once it becomes clear that trouble is here but there is not enough time to escape, she sighs heavily. "Well...I suppose this will be my first real test." she says to no one in particular. She moves to the entrance of the quaint little house and pulls a weapon from her purse that most people don't know she has. It isn't as strong as her hammer, but it is unknown to others and that is what she wants. It is a giant spiked club she got as a drop in an ALO game zone, a traditional weapon of the oni. She takes another deep breath as she tries to mentally prepare herself, and rests the oversized demonic kanabo on her shoulder. 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''                               A LONG TIME AGO                                      A purple-haired girl stood in the kitchen, her hands covered in bandages, her arms in bruises. A young man with red hair stood next to her. 'You don't have to cook if it hurts.' 'It's okay. I want to cook for you, Senpai.' She smiled at him. He smiled at her. The glass cracked. The memory fell apart.                                  RIGHT NOW                                   August says something to him. Thunk. The knife descends. The Nameless Gunner doesn't look up. "Is that right."      Thunk.      "If you were a smarter man, you wouldn't be here."      Thunk. Thunk. The silence that falls after it is disrupted only by the chopping of the meat, by the act of the butchering. He holds up the head of the pig, half-split-open, for the window to see. He smiles.      The head is split open in the same way Staren's was. Surgical precision. Right down to the neck. Rooted around in.      The roar of the gattling gun was planned.      One of Nameless's hands goes to the window.      "Trace, on." Golden light surges along dark skin, gold lines binding black together, a broken pot held by gleaming light. The golden light meets the window and it becomes like iron; it meets the wall and it becomes steel. Bullet shells ping off the wall, a rat-a-tat-tat of lead rain beating against plaster and losing. 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:''' Riku is here. But where? The Concord is not the only ones who know how to use the shadows. While lacking the power of invisiblity like the First, Riku can still make use of basic tactics to keep out of sight.... And his mobility in this place is unmatched, having long ago mapped out the Corridors. He has been waiting and watching since the battle near Sanary's farm.... And they are here.     The moment they are, Riku begins. He hunts down the groups of invaders, watching for moments when they are not covering each other's back. Riku strikes then, shadows reaching out and pulling men into the Corridors.     They don't come back out. Not there, anyway. Riku is already getting beads on his next target elsewhere. The Concord isn't here to play fair. Neither is Riku. Still, Riku isn't killing them at least. Any tracking systems will eventually pick them up having been dropped off some distance out of town, unconscious. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     For once, Raha isn't here to be a hero. He isn't here to be a good guy. He's not here to be the Warrior of Light, even though that is the core of his being, the soul of his life.     Today, Raha gets to be a Stick. A big damn stick. A stick with a pointy catte at the end of it to bloody up an enemy. He gets to be the Berserker, and no one is going to yell at him about it.     Well, Inga will probably yell, at some point. The enemy will probably yell at him.     But right now, N'raha Tia is sitting in a garage across the street from the Watch site. No need for everyone to be crowed into a house, and certainly no need for him to do what he is about to do indoors where half of his friends might be.     It's the call for 'Mental Power Defenses' that wakes him up. Parsons is here. The Warrior takes a breath, sets his feet, and then... just lets go. He lets that Inner Beast out. The one he isn't supposed to let out. Parsons is outside ,across the street. Probably doing fucky brain shit. Watch yourself. These are thought he's able to have, right before he flashes over and-     The door to the garage splinters and flays apart, and N'raha comes crashing through, axe raised, his whole body sheathed in Angry Red Aether. He charges through the green smoke and... well. He's already dazed confused and brutally ready for things. A hideous Lion's Roar cracks the streets of Ketchikan, as Raha comes to FIGHT.     "PAAAAAAAAAAARRSSSSSSSSSONS!" 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' "...Eh? What's all that about?" Sanary doesn't put the dots together right away when August addresses Nameless, only sitting up when he talks to her directly. "Who...? Wait. You weren't coming just to...?" She gestures at Nameless, glancing at August once before turning back to the gunner and noticing something distinctly off. "Hey, uh. I think missed a bit at the..." Nameless' butchering technique isn't the only thing she notices. She notices how things are suddenly loud outside, how August calls for assistance against a familiar psychic, and those words signifying that Nameless is doing that odd magic... Thing he does. Luckily, things aren't exploding immediately around her, so she has enough time to get up, grab her axe off the wall, and look out that same window. "Oh. That's what you meant. Well... Quit talking like you're both dying. We haven't died after all those other times yet, right? Let's keep that streak going and..." She squints. "That's a lotta people out there. This is pretty different." Sanary takes a big swig of soda, then shivers once as she slaps a hand to Nameless' back and pours some raw ENERGY into him to help fuel his... Whatever it is he's doing. She still hasn't figured it out yet. "How do we wanna do this?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Something is happening. That's what she's gathered when N'Raha jumps up and makes to ready for battle. Inga, not even knowing why just yet, gets her things and makes to follow. She gets filled in mostly on the way. She is angry, but she's not currently sure at whom. There's about to be a bloodbath, and she doesn't know that it can be prevented. It's how a warlord would do it. There has to be retaliation. There always has to be retaliation. Sometimes it goes until no one is left on either side. She's seen the feuds that ended that way. A hall burned, a village slaughtered. Escalation until there's nothing but bodies and ravens feasting. So, here she is, sitting on a lone chair outside of the 'watchtower' waiting for them to come, her walking stick on her lap and a cup of tea in her hand. She's wearing a slightly stained apron over a blue wool dress, the belt around her waist hung with bone talismans and bird skulls, a small knife in a leather sheath. She sighs heavily, hearing Raha roar and the sounds of battle beginning. "Gods..." she begins, but isn't even sure how to finish that prayer. This is, in short, going to suck. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' Bullets explode against the wall. Nameless's golden lgiht reinforces it. August sighs, sadly, as Nameless replies to him. "You're right." "I don't think I've been very smart at all." He leaps up, shouting to Sanary. "I'm going to deal with Staren. Get ready for Concord incoming." August begins running across the dining room table and towards an opposite window, which he leaps through, glass shattering around him and cutting into his skin, which regenerates rapidly, knitting itself together. Rolling out into the snow, a glass shard is glimpsed by August. "Persona!" In a flash of grey and red, Dietrich is manifested, the giant black knight in power armor appearing in front of August, who leaps onto his back. The knight starts moving quickly, and then leaps at the Star Hawk, moving to take his massive sword and try and slam it against the machine's torso with the weight of a crashing train behind it. "Staren. Nice to see you. Ready to dance?" 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     And that resonant roar gets Yang's attention. "Ooooh, boy, Inga's gonna be piiiiiissed." She makes her move then, launching herself onto a rooftop, then barreling across it while discarding her disguise of some bedsheet she pilfered from the Watchtower before coming out here. "Yo, Catdude, I've got your back!" she bellows, launching into the air, and coming down where she last saw one of Flamel's launch positions, striking the ground and causing it to disrupt and ripple in a circle around her. "Hey buddy. You don't know me, but you fucked with the wrong group if ya think I'm gonna let you just waltz in here." she says, casting eyes around trying to pick out where Flamel is. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     "Calamity Actual, this is Aleph leader. Three personnel confirmed MIA. We're engaging anti-flank countermeasures, but we'll lose first strike capability if we don't catch them immediately. Please advise."     The tactical radio silence hangs long and heavy. The white noise of the biting Alaskan breeze crackles faintly through the speaker, the channel held open without a word.     The Nameless Gunner holds up the pig's head, dripping with refrigerated gore. Its innards have been scrambled by fumbling fingers, down to the root of the brain. He smiles     The radio finally gives up one word. Just one, and a shivering, fathomless cold; one that pierces to the bones where the wind cannot.     "Commence."     The fresh snow blanketing the lower mountainside explodes all at once, lifted high into the air as if by a bomb. It is caught at its resting height by a sledgehammer of wind, casting it down into the edge of Ketchikan. The crisp evening becomes an ocean of streaming white, impossible to see more than thirty feet. The air is filled with the shrieking of wind, becoming a mournful roar as it funnels between the buildings, rattling siding and tearing off roof tiles and bricks. Blaring car alarms add to the noise, as well as the sense of urgency. Frost begins forming on forward walls and pavements instantly. The snowflakes don't just sting the skin; every so often, they leave little bleeding cuts, smoking blue.     The charge down the mountain is swallowed up in the blizzard, but the Concord has the gear to see through it. With the house already plugged into various rangefinders and memorized, the teams up in the crags let loose with a salvo of mortar fire. Dull flashes are visible through the snow-mist, and the whistle of falling shells follows, coinciding with a scattered sheet of tiny, fiery meteors, churning out of the sky. It all lands on the position at roughly the same time, turning the street into a hellish earthquake of fire.     In the chaos and poor visibility, the tactical teams rush forward from hiding, skidding down the slope, raining fire on the Watch position, both with energy weapons and elemental bolts. The teams move while they fire and cover each other as they chant and reload. It's an all out assault. No lulls. No gaps. 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''                                  RIGHT NOW                                   Sanary asks how they want to do this as the world goes mad. Snow, fire, ice and thunder, meteors and death. It all comes raining down in Ketchikan. It all comes tumbling down. The Nameless Gunner shakes his head and gestures for Sanary to go as August goes out the room. "Go," he says, and that's all he says.      The walls won't hold up for long. The charge boost needs to be saved. Needs to be held. Needs to be reserved for just the right moment. But the sound of the storm, the sound of the avalanche, the sound of the pouring thunder, brings a grim smile to the Nameless Gunner's lips. Seal in the city. Suppress as many people as possible. Take as much control as possible to deal with the problem.      But they're used to dealing with heroes. They're used to dealing with people who are predictable, who have simple plans. Even the anti-terrorism tactics are raw, overwhelming force: come down and seal the town off, then bring as much fire and fury as possible. It speaks of one mind, something old and dangerous.      The last old and dangerous thing he killed was the same way. Cunning. But reliant on force, on strength, on surprise.      This was his advantage.                               A LONG TIME AGO                                    A red-haired young man's hands are dripping with blood. The blades are coated, slick and wet, one black, one white. He's walking towards an old man. The old man is laughing. Telling the young one he's immortal. He can't die. He's-      The blade comes down into the throat.      The young man falls to his knees, carving, and carving, and carving. Sick, wet thumps. Worms. They're worms. The man is made of worms. The old man falls apart into wriggling, writhing beasts, and the young man's blades keep cutting, and cutting, and cutting. No escape. No escape. No escape for the wicked. No escape from his vengeance.                   A thousand blades wasted without purpose.                                                    RIGHT NOW                                        The assault squad is met with the entire god damned roof. A huge chunk of it just slides forward, a massive, heavy hunk of material falling directly onto the assault team. It'd be comedic if it wasn't so horrifying - if it wasn't for the razor blades that line every tile, painstakingly placed to cause maximum possible pain.      The Nameless Gunner gestures into the window      How many are you going to throw to your death before you come for me, it says. How many lives do you want me to take? 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:''' A barrage of weapons goes off, and Seventeen's head immediately turns right for them.  He catches the glimmer of the Starhawk, before the blizzard and avalanche come down the mountain.  Gritting his teeth, because he was outside, he moves to try and brace himself.  The ANDROID BARRIER comes up, aiming to protect himself from the wave of snow washing down over the town.   Moments later, the assault starts in earnest.  However, Staren's position is quite remembered.  A surge of energy courses through the part of the snow he was buried in.  Right now the town is going to be buried, which means evacuation is impossible.  This means, that when everything is done, they're going to have their pick of victims to 'question' to get their vengeance off. And hey, who cares if they die because Staren can just bring them back.  The thought that this could be used this way makes his blood run cold, as he literally crashes into the ground near Staren.  Of course, if they could reverse this on Staren...then would the First still hold on to this strategy?  Who can say? Right now, Seventeen's helplessness turns into anger because he can't do a thing.  Except beat the shit out of Staren.   

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga puts down her tea, grabs her staff and pulls herself to her feet, leaning on the walking stick as she moves toward the sounds of Raha and Yang about to go crazy on some unlucky fellow, and she supposes she's about to help. Yang's right, she is pissed, but not at Raha. It's what he does. She knew that. But someone has to be around who can bring him out of the rage and its probably best if it is her. Once she reaches them, Inga pulls her knife from her belt and looks menacingly at Flamel. "I have no desire to be here. Frankly, I understand the reasoning and I'm not pleased to know this man killed Staren--and went through someone who /doesn't/ recover to do it. But I can't let these people be hurt," she says. Inga then cuts open her arm and flicks a blood ward at Raha and Yang. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Yang uses AoE tactics, and as N'raha probably knows, lard AoEs being distributed throughout the battlefield have this notorious habit of managing to mysteriously catch casters directly in them when they ought to have been literally anywhere else.     But all it does in Flamel's case is knock him out of his invisibility -- or at least it messes with his focus enough to get him a little bit flickery. "Yang Xiao Long! Am I saying it right this time?" He says, with a bright smile. "We met at Maslow Peak. And Inga! Back at the Warp Iris... that was a long time ago, wasn't it? Dang!"     He can hear the other, raging voice. He attempts an experimental mental intrusion-- nope. No dice, at least, not right now. "Can't say I know that one. Look-- This is how it's gotta be. A message has to be sent, you know? And we can either build up what we have to send it, or we can tear down the Watchtower. I'm sorry, but, I'm anti-MAD, right to the bones. Literally, you know." He takes a more aggressive stance... And appears near Yang.      He isn't pointing his rifle at her though. The line running from his temple to the weapon lights up, and tries to blast N'raha instead, a sustained wide shot of pure white psychic energy. His telekinesis activates as he does, pulling up huge chunks of snow in motion and using them as a sort of riot-control bashing implement. Massive translucent hands arise and sling the clumps at terrible speeds at Inga, trying to bash her away!     But for Yang, Flamel takes advantage of what he's got, which is the chance to try to leap into her mind before she can get a punch off! If he can dive into her MENTAL ARENA -- whatever the first layer of her brainscape might look like -- he might be able to dive in, find her self-image, and give her a real solid thwack square in her capacity-for-violence, by landing and giving a heavy telekinetic punch to her mentality! Who knows how that works, brainwise, for someone like her? 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:''' The snow rises... And it crashes down on the town. The terrain promptly becomes obviated in a wave of snow and ice. Riku is forced to take cover. He can move, but he can't move through THAT. The wall he's hiding behind creaks... And then collapses on top of him. There is a shout that vanishes in the darkness as the snow and ice rush over the toolshed that Riku had sheltered in.     A few seconds later, a disheveled and angry Riku suddenly drops out of a Corridor right next to Staren's mech, the Soul Eater swinging out to try to pierce into the cockpit amidst all the snow and chaos and destruction, amidst the roof slamming down on top of the assault force.     He averts his eyes from that. There was a reason why he wasn't perching on that roof. "You need to be stopped, Staren." Riku says simply as he perches firmly on the thing and prepares for a ride. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima should have been there. He was not. Peculiar, of all things, for the Mad Dog of Shimano to miss a fight. It has, after all this time, become clear why. A sizable, lumbering vermillion hulk of metal has been making its way down the street, rumbling for a very, very long time. Dangling from its crane-front is a solid metal weight--it has been painted solid gold, but is clearly no such thing. Atop the weight, dangling as it is from steel cables, is a figure. Despite the cold, the figure is clearly shirtless, round-headed, and... Screaming into the radio. "Neheheh! Didja know how hard it is ta drive one of these things in snow? Cause I sure as fuck didn't!" Majima just picks the widest band he can. There's absolutely no reason to hide himself. He didn't before, he's not going to start now. "Majima Construction is here to serve an eviction notice, eh!?" Within the driver cab of the vehicle, a nervous Japanese man works the controls. "...Boss? Boss can you get back in? This is kinda crazy, Boss!" 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang quirks. "Huh, guess we did meet once. Sorry, I forgot ya." she remarks. She's got her guard up, and with a millisecond of 'incoming' to warn her, she ducks back away from from the wave of telekinetic force. She bends around, and with the same motion aims to bring a rising uppercut into Flamel's chin, her gauntlet firing in the same motion, sending a wave of flames instead of the usual kinetic burst. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' "Are any of us really that smart?" Sanary laughs at her own joke, then nearly topples over at the sudden shock of explosions rattling the building she's cooped up in. Catching herself just before hitting the ground, she takes a deep breath to prepare herself before following August through that same window at Nameless' signal. "Hey. Nags." She came up with that one just now. "Stay low to the ground. Tall people suck at hittin' us shorties, even though you're..." She pauses, looking back at the gunner once more before shaking her head. "Bah, you'll figure it out! Their timing is ass, though..." And then snow buries the houses. Several people. Blocks the entrances. Makes the targets a little too easy to hit. Even with her jacket on, it's kind of cold, and Sanary has to do a bit of trudging to get somewhere that the snow isn't too dense to move properly. Spotting the chaos already starting to unfold, the healer heads in another direction to try and close up the gaps that might be appearing in the defensive 'line'. There is a crane charging right at one of those holes. The crane has a screaming guy with an eyepatch on it. Sanary narrows her eye as she adjusts her own eyepatch, stepping forward and steadily building up speed. Once she breaks into a sprint, she leaps forward with a mighty roar as she brings her axe down at the mad dog! WATCH PIG FARMER, PLEGIA BRANCH S A N A R Y   R O N D E L 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Believe it or not Raha is used to lazer beams and beams and AOE ground Templates and shit like that. Call it the Echo or whatever, he can see that shit coming and he can avoid it. It's great. Thanks Hydaelyn!     But that's not what Raha is about right now. Not even in the slightest. That laser beam shoots past him, razeing the sidewalk and the pavement and the snow, bashing and crashing bits of all of it into him and... and he just trucks it. Right now it is not a 'let's be sensible time'. Right now it is Fight Time. Fight Time For Fight People.     Parsons makes a move for Yang and NOT HIM. WHY IS HE NOT FIGHTING THE TANK? THIS IS RUDE. There's a howl of anger and the catman channels his aether, and with a dull red arc of motion, leaps across the battlefield, aiming a swing of that massive ax at Parson's head and neck region. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Yes, I remember you. It is unfortunate that we must meet again this way," she says, ever-polite. It never hurts to be polite. The snow he chucks her way is much less polite. Inga raises her staff, and with a word the snow is met by a barrier of fire, most of the snow turns to steam in the air, and what does hit her doesn't knock her for a loop as it would have otherwise. Inga narrows her eyes as he focuses on Yang. She knows a bit about him from conversations on the radio, and can guess what he is trying to do. Inga takes a deep breath and takes the restraints off her Sight, focusing upon Flamel to get a read on his wyrd. What is his most likely strategy? 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia is in a position she does not usually find herself in. She doesn't really agree with what Nameless did, even if she understands the reason he did it. And the Concord is perfectly within most doctrines to seek out the attacker. Sarracenia would be risking a lot. Just the risk of her identity being discovered is bad enough, but fighting actual people in a life or death battle is something she actively tries to avoid. Crazy princess is bad enough. She really doesn't want to be known as a killer princess.      She is brought out of her thoughts by the heavy pounding of artillery and an avalanche. Really all thoughts but 'oh god I am really here in the middle of this!!' leave her mind. She doesn't want to be here, or to fight anyone here! She never really thought it through when she joined the Watch! It was just a place where people didn't really care what you did as long as you weren't opressing people!      The building holds up, but how in the world it does she isn't sure. She peeks out the door once the shelling has stopped, just in time to get her face lightly cut up by those razor sharp snowflakes...and to see a group of incoming soldiers get crushed under a roof covered in razors! "Holy Shiitakes!" she exclaims as she falls back, eyes wide beneath her mask. That's about all the nerve the blustery princess has, and she quickly exits the building and moves down the destroyed road. She is hoping that being clear of it will reduce her likelyhood of encountering an enemy agent, but the red-haired amazon in the bright red outfit is going to be hard to miss.      And it doesn't help that she just happens to run right toward that crane in her panic. Her eyes widen, but rather than stop she just charges. "Get out of my way!!" she exclaims as she leaps and swings that massive kanabo right at the golden wrecking ball, attempting to send it smashing into the very crane that is carrying it.      She lands, then blinks. "...Sanary?" she says, seeming surprised. Didn't she even know they were in the same faction? 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Three people facing a giant steel construct. Riku may recognize this as a boss battle. Does... does that mean there should be music? There's only the howling of the wind and the snow, though.     Strikes hit the chest of the mecha. The shape gives away where the cockpit is, there's the telltale outline of the curved canopy under armor plating... plating that begins to break apart, though not yet enough to see inside.     "I'm glad you're in high spirits, August!" Staren's tone is friendly, then grows colder. "I'm sorry it had to come to this." A 'blade' of plasma extends from the mech's right forearm as it steps back and aims a punch at Dietrich, trying to melt it and then slam a giant metal fist into it. Then the sword turns off and it swats at Riku as one might a bug that's just bitten one.     "I must be stopped? Ah yes, because I want to make the world BETTER. You claim to be the Multiverse's rebels, but you fight only to restore the status quo. The tyranny of nature, where billions sicken and die every day across the multiverse! But their suffering doesn't MATTER to you unless it's called out! Unless it's at the hand of someone you can punch to make it right!"     Seventeen didn't say anything and Staren's having enough trouble fighting three people, let alone talking back to two, so for the moment he just tries to punt the Android away into the snowstorm! 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Oh, good. He was worried for a second that he was actually going to have to sit there doing demolition instead of fighting someone. And, much to his glee, whoever it is has a giant axe and is willing to jump up atop to hit him with it. He isn't about to just take the hit like a chump or anything, swinging on the cable to get his body out of the way. Sanary's axe impacts the ball, which /does/ damage it, but it's not exactly a crippling blow to the Mad Dog himself. He cackles wildly, body flaring with a glowing vermillion flame as he draws a wooden bat. "...Get off my ride, eh? I spent /hours/ gettin' this shit over here." He spins himself around on the cable again, before bringing the bat down as hard on Sanary's head as he can muster, under the circumstance. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Parsons catches nothing. Somehow Yang has dodged an astral projection and avoided even getting mentally invaded! Her uppercut nearly takes his skull off of his spine in return, but with a deft backwards bend, he pulls away, somehow using unexpected close-quarters combat skill to deftly parry the assault. Then comes the axe, right as he's about to perform a follow-up on Yang! It comes tearing for his neck, and the wide-eyed psychic gets a few choice visions of his head being lopped clean off a half-second or so before it happens, giving him the impulse to raise his rifle and use it to deflect the strike, forcing it to one side and keeping himself from an untimely end, though he winds up straining his arms pretty badly to do it.     When Inga goes for his brain, she finds it well-guarded, but not intrusion-proof. There's an entire world in here! She could find what she's looking for, but it would need her to navigate what appears to be the mental image of an entire massive underground secret bunker stored in Flamel's mind. She could shake him, or pursue more, but she can't get something quite yet.     There's something there, though, in that bunker. Something he's got. A glimmer of a concept that hide under the surface of all of this. Perhaps something he hasn't told Priscilla? It could well be buried that deep, anyway. Whatever it is, he'll need to be closer to the Nameless one to do it. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' As Staren argues with Riku, snow buffets everything, as wind howls, August's skin freezes, and he's forced to divert closer towards the mecha to avoid mortars. This is a shitshow. He's not actually in good spirits, Staren will quickly realize, as August replies. "I'm not going to argue with you. But I can't let you proceed." A plasma blade stabs into Dietrich. It does not punch a hole - the Persona is too tough - and instead carves through what appears to be practically endless armor. The armor quickly regenerates itself, but August begins bleeding from the nose, already strained from previous encounters and stress. "Let's tango." The blade suddenly burns bright orange with fire, as Dietrich starts running up the Star Hawk. When Android 17 pinpoints the location of the speakers, August moves for one of them, and moves to jam his fiery blade into the speakers, before carving a swath down and towards the cockpit as powerfully as possible. Staren will survive it, if the armor doesn't stop it first. August has no plans to kill tonight. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     But for now? Looks like he needs to focus on dealing damage. He didn't get anything on Yang, and he needs to even those odds. This time, he doesn't focus on going after her brain. This time he focuses on going after her to cause some proper injuries. No dives for this one -- instead he moves in close for a barrage of open-hand close-quarters telekinetic hand-strikes! A dozen heavy psychic fists translucently form near him, trying to batter and barrage Yang and out-do her two-handed combat abilities, or at least push her off so he can focus on N'raha properly! 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' Sanary hears another familiar voice landing nearby, swinging for someone else in that demolition vehicle. "Sarra? Ah, we'll catch up later!" She barks as she jerks her axe out of that wrecking ball, turning just in time to get nailed right in the face with that bat. It's a rather nasty hit, too, but it doesn't appear to stick quite as well as it should. There's blood. A lot of blood. The bruises remain, too, but her head isn't as caved in as it might be for a regular person. No, there's a green light that linger around Sanary's head as she staggers against the front of the vehicle, mending the wounds enough that she's still mostly recognizable and functioning. "You ain't bad with that bat either... Good swing. But you should quit screwin' around!" She says as she leaps for that wrecking ball, cheating a bit with her flight anklets to help her reach for that chain. Whether she gets onto it or not, she proceeds to go for something a little more her speed: Try to lull her opponent in with the prospect of trading hits by swinging her axe wildly and advancing in an attempt to limit his mobility! 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:'''     There is a sickening crunch as the hand sweeps across the mech, tagging Riku directly and sending him spinning away to crater into the wall. Or he would, if the wall wasn't Reinforced. He falls off of it into the painful blizzard-snow, shuddering with the sudden traumatic influx. Already, part of his mind is screaming to just stay down, that /hurt/.     "You keep repeating that like you think it's going to become true." Riku says, voice grating as he forces himself to stand once again. A hand wipes blood from his face as his eyes narrow at the mech. "You're a madman who thinks you have the right to play God. You think you have all the answers and you don't care when people bring up the problems. You just stuff them into little boxes and pretend that they don't matter." He steps forward, his shows crunching in the icy mess as the breath mists around him. His shadow begins to grow.     "You make so many assumptions. You assume everyone else is ignorant just because you think you're the smart one. No wonder why the dragon likes you so much. You're as arrogant as she is. You don't even understand what kind of hellish world you want to give to those people you're pretending you're saving. You're just replacing the tyrrany of nature with your own!"     As he yells, there is a surge of blackness, the Eidolon rising up and hulking out as the horrific expression of the darkness in Riku's Heart manifests, the distorted Heartless-like figure rushing forward to simply bring a fist back and attempt to crash into Staren's mecha with no survivors, aiming for the position that 17 provides on the mecha. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     And then, he can't afford to ignore N'raha, whose axe is so close upon his neck. Focus! He whips around, clenches a hand, and casts a swarm of heavy CONFUSION GRENADES! In a berserker state, he has plenty of mental defenses, but Flamel can at the very least mess with his vision and make it harder to land a hit! He can little afford a dead-on strike from that axe under these circumstances, especially with so many impacts knocking him out of his invisibility. The blasts are mostly kinetic bursts that bruise more lightly, but they're nothing to ignore, like getting pelted with two dozen flashbangs. 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:''' Unfortunately for Staren, and fortunately for Seventeen that the Cyborg was both a capable hand to hand fighter, as well as tough as nails.  The foot of the mech slams into the guarding Android, and while it connects, the force is disbursed just enough to only send the Android back a few feet.   The moment his legs touch, they wind up like a spring, and he immediately changes direction, charging back for Staren.  There is a flash of movement, and he appears to vanish for a moment, only to appear on the opposite side of August's attack. Both hands aim up, aiming to send a ball of electrified energy right into the side of the machine in an attempt to disable the speaker.  "Save your words.  At this point, we are beyond them.  You and yours have assaulted our leadership, have assaulted our base and put civilians in danger.  But hey, I guess you can just 'bring them back' if you mess up a little, right?  An omelet and all, right?" "Gero thought that too.  And I killed him, and if you are like that I will finish was Nameless started...but I will not use his methods." 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     As for Inga though, Flamel can act much more directly. Identifying her attempted invasion of his Mind Palace, Flamel sort of tracks backwards through her mind-reading! Instead of launchign snow at her now, he can try to leap into her outer thoughts, dive into her mental arena, and assault her motive to remain in the fight directly, by dropping in and barraging it with a heavy rush of repeated bolts of psychic energy! 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     And Flamel comes back in with a flurry of psionic punches. Yang's put on the back foot, parrying and dipping between the strikes... ones hitting her arms making the metal of her gauntlets ring resonantly. She skids backwards from a particularly heavy strike that she has to crossguard against, digging up furrows in the snow.     Yang laughs... it's a cruel sound, malicious even.... "Not bad, not bad at all..." she lifts her eyes, showing they've turned red. "Lets do this."     Yang takes a quarterstep back, then launches herself back into CQC, bringing her own flurry of rapid punches back at Flamel, then jinking around to come from a different angle, 'dancing' around him like a really angry woodpecker... but with fists. 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' Rean is here. He's dressed in a black jumpsuit, with a hood covering his hair and bottom half of his face. Obviously he still doesn't agree with what Nameless did, and his only issue with the Watch was that they were keeping someone like him around. But none of that was worth this ice and blood. But maybe, just maybe, he could tip the scales just a bit and make things less terrible. Rean sighs. Now or never. Then some girl with a spiked bat smacks the wrecking ball right into the cranes cab, towards his seat. Sad girl sounds an awful lot like- "Wait, Sarracenia?!" Rean throws himself into Nishida to try and avoid it, probably squishing the poor secretary. "Sorry-" he sputters, before climbing out of the vehicle and drawing his sword. "Sorry about this." He says and then rushes the disguised princess,  aiming to try and knock the bat out of her hand. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     The roof of the house coming off, no, launching off, causes the lead squads to try and skid to a halt. A fireball launches from a jeweled staff and blasts it dead center, but the tiles turn to blades --so many blades-- and scarcely melt the tips. There is screaming when the thing lands, steam erupting from the ground, so much snow flash vapourized.     A sniper with perfectly precise mechanical hands, lodged in the hillside, takes the shot at Nameless' head, and a mortar team fires a fragmenting submunition into the house, now that the roof is off. A 'daisy cutter'. The sharp whistle terminates in a dull crack, and the kitchen is riddled wall to wall with cutting darts. The two other teams not headed directly towards him though, suddenly change tactics and fork off to either side, firing sidelong as they run, strafing the building with bullets and lightning to get into the town ASAP. Support fire from above lands in the midst of the ongoing battles. The man in the jacket, with the great sword, cleaves his way free of the razor wreckage, bleeding all over.     If all three were to attack him in combination, it'd be moderately challenging. That doesn't seem to be the idea though. He can detect hate behind the attacks. Scorn. An intent to kill. But not bloodlust. His senses don't tingle the warnings of extraordinary danger until a knife, thin, streamlined and symmetrical, suddenly flies out of the blizzard at his face. It's a simple steel thing, disposable, but somehow it screams peril.     It also came from very, very close. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     If Raha knew that Parsons was fishing around in his partner's brain, he'd be only a smidge grumpier than he is right now. Not that he's grump right now. Battle rage is a different Inner Beast all together, after all.     Raha also has to contend with Crazy Blinding Flashes of Light. Who uses the Blind status effect anyways these days? Honestly? Echo Drops are so hard to come by. That said, Raha snarls and rubs at his face, and then shakes it off, forced to take a moment and burn one of his recovery abilities. There's a dull green glow around his frame as the blindness passes, and then the red is back in his vision, and once more he's charging in. Parson's is right to be worried about Raha, because the Train Hasn't Brakes right now. This time, the Train is merely a Feline Missile, as Raha simply moves to Shoulder Check Parsons into the snow and the rubble. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia freezes for just a moment as Rean calls out her name. "Rean?!" she exclaims back, then blinks and coughs. "N-no! Who is this Sarracenia of whom you speak? I am Crimson Rose!" she declares, and does a dramatic flourish with her bat.      She hops back, then huffs. "What are you even doing here?! I know what that gunman did was questionable at best, but the Concord just trapped an entire town in cutting snow and explosions to get at a few operatives! Surely you do not agree with that!" she says.      She grips her club more tightly and growls a bit. "Now, get out of here, before one or both of us get hurt!" she exclaims before swinging it at her friend. Though if Rean knows anything about how she usually fights, he can tell that she did not put nearly as much force behind the blow as she could have. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga feels Flamel' psychic assault come her way and she tries to buckle down on her defenses...but as a Seer, she is sensitive. It is sort of her superpower. She's sensetive to the patterns of the world and the people who are woven into it. His attack is met with a small gasp, her thoughts on this all are clear. She doesn't want to be here, but she's afraid that if she is not someone will die that might otherwise be saved. She is especially afraid Raha will lose control and get himself killed if she isn't here to bring him out of his rage. The thought of him dying brings up all too recent trauma. The pain is terrible. It is horrible, crushing despair and grief. She doesn't shut down or throw up her guard against his intrusion. No, she hurls it at him in all it's intensity. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     As the mecha moves, August just misses the speaker he's aiming at. But trying to cut through towards the cockpit makes one wonder: The cockpit is more heavily armored than anywhere else. But is it armored from INSIDE the mech, if the armor were breached somewhere else? Dietrich's sword still cuts a rent into the side of the machine. Seventeen's attack isn't straight on, but still scorches and melts a thin layer of armor, and the speaker on that side goes a bit staticky. Staren at least manages to swat the heartless away before it can hit him.     Staren sounds angry at Riku and Seventeen's words, though. "The right? The RIGHT? Noone has the RIGHT, but someone's got to do something! Nature has stabbed someone and left them bleeding in the street; SOMEONE's got to start first aid and order someone to call emergency services!"     "I DON'T have all the answers and I worry about the problems all the time! If I thought I'd solved them I wouldn't be talking, I'd be DOING!"     Staren steps the mecha back again and sweeps the mecha's right arm at August and Seventeen, trying to catch them with railgun fire. Staren winces as he realizes, an instant too late, that beyond the white snow are houses and his stray shots might hit them. "I don't even know if this is the best plan! Maybe I'll find a better one in time! At first I thought if I could just conquer death it would help everyone... then I found the technology and realized it could be used for eternal torture! If I didn't think about problems like this..." The mecha actually freezes for a split second, then shakes its head. "Then I'd have done something terrible."     Staren raises his voice to a shout of frustration: "At least I'm trying to solve them! You just turn a blind eye to it as billions, trillions suffer and die every day across the Multiverse!"     Shadows appear in the snowstorm behind Staren... and a group of constructs surges forwards, some firing bullets and acid spit at Riku while a large, cement humanoid with a big metal club charges him! 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Yang matches him, but Flamel can move fast and efficiently. He can only move so fast and so efficiently though -- she's outpacing him in damage, battering his psychic constructs and often his body as he moves. It leaves him so occupied and so focused that he can't move out of the way of N'Raha's attack! It slams him so hard into the snowbank that it's hard for him to extract himself again!     That's what Flamel sees in a quick psychic insight, which gives him all the motivation he needs to suffer a lighter hit from Yang square on the face in order to give himself the room to POOF into invisibility and dodge around the charge that he should never have seen coming!     He pops back into clear visibility to one side, trying to psychically judo-toss N'Raha after the lion-berserker tries to slam him, flinging him aside! One hand snaps out to brandish the rifle and blast it at Yang as he tries to keep her at a distance, then the other hand clamps onto his head. He summons a dozen tremendous fists to try to pummel N'Raha into a snowbank!     But not all pummelings are physical. Flamel, in his mental invasion, tries to strike at something that one might say is 'rigged', in a sense. A mental booby-trap of trauma, the psychological trigger that brings up painful memories. Flamel tries to blast through it and instead it goes off like a mine got triggered in his face. If N'Raha is needing any respite from the impacts, the brief hesitation as he shares Inga's worry for N'Raha's safety will give it to him-- Though in turn, he moves to shift his rifle blasts into a heavy airbursting artillery shot in her direction, a gleaming white blast that is intended to stun her and break the psychic link! 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''                                  RIGHT NOW                                        The sniper takes a shot at his head. The Nameless Gunner's reaction is smooth, efficient, calculated. The bullet lodges in his skull, blowing out the back end; his rifle manifests in the span of the instant before the bullet hits and fires as it enters his head, a streaking red bolt that carves across the sky, aiming for the other sniper's heart, twisting for the other sniper's heart like a homing missile. There's no hesitation, no moment for it, as the mortar comes down and slams against what's left of the roof, caving parts of it in around him. The next shot will get him, so he'll have to go deeper in.      But first, the knife.                               A LONG TIME AGO                                   The knife hits the cutting board with a thud and drops onto the counter. The purple-haired girl falls to the ground. The red-haired man moves to catch her. She's bleeding. She looks up at him with a weak smile. 'I'm fine, senpai. I just cut myself, that's all. It happens a lot.'      He grabs her hand. Too stupid to know what she means. Too stupid to understand the cry for help. Too dense to grasp it.                     Rusted my body, dark runs my blood.                                                      RIGHT NOW                                        The knife comes whistling out of nowhere. The Nameless Gunner's motions are fluid, water, flowing without hesitation. A bullet appears in his hand, twisting and stinking of burning wood. As the knife comes in he jams the bullet into his gun and raises it towards the point the knife came from. He takes the hit, clean in the shoulder, pain shooting up his arm to match the pain in the skull that's already trying to reassemble itself with tiny knitting blades.      The Nameless Gunner fires.      One shot becomes ten. Ten shots become a hundred. One hundred shots become three hundred.                A THOUSAND BROKEN WORLDS - LOST LINE FORMATION                    Nobunaga's own Noble Phantasm. Anti-Divinity. Anti-God. Splitting the field in saturation to draw her out. To draw out the thing he is dragging here to fight on his own terms. To draw out the root of that place.      The knife is a small price to pay. The very, very deadly knife in his arm will suffice as a price. It's rangefinding.      Sacrificing his own body as a tool to get what he needs to do done. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' "...Oh, ya got spark. I like that." Majima more than expects a counter-attack, but..he's kinda distracted. Mostly because this ball keeps moving. So he finally decides to jump off, and...as he's about to, he realizes he /definitely/ did not hit the girl as hard as he thought he did. Weird. "Heh! Good! I thought ya were gonna be down for the count already! Woulda been wasting my time, eh?"     Sanary's also still going, which makes her double-great in Majima's books. "...Quit screwin' around, eh? Ya ain't ready ta see the big show yet, eh?" The bat's still out. He is absolutely not used to fighting atop a moving ball. This sucks, and that axe is starting to nick and scrape more than he'd like. "Ya know it's cold out here, eh? Why ya gotta be cuttin' a guy's clothes?!" He demands of her, that bat readying back up again. This time, new plan. He's just gonna knock her off the wrecking ball. Someone else keeps hitting the damn thing anyway. So this time, he just drives it like a spear forward, hoping to just casually push the pig farmer off. The big move comes in a minute. First is always the setup. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' The cockpit is heavily armored. That's fine. As the arm sweeps up, blasting Dietrich with railgun fire and knocking it back, shattering armor that rapidly repairs itself at a slower rate, August's nose getting bloodier, he pauses. And then, Staren's mecha pauses too. The perfect chance. He doesn't go for the cockpit. He needs to disable the machine. He goes for the arm, trying to slice into it with heavy swipes and start tearing at armor, carving it open and weakening those railgun shots. There is no response to the argument. At this point...August doesn't care. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's anger looks very different than Raha's or Yang's, but she is angry all the same. "Got a bit more than you wanted, hmm?" she asks, only to be blwon from her feet into a snowbank. There is an unpleasant cracking sound Inga really hopes wasn't her spine. All the same, she's going to stay there for a moment. After all, she doesn't need to be on her feet to set Flamel on fire. She gestures to him, shouts "FIRE" in old Norse, and promptly tries to set his pants on fire. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha goes skidding into a snowpile with Flamel, unable to stop the skidding of his attack. New boots, a little un-crazy piece of his brain laments.     The sudden raining of blows on his body forces Raha to take another moment to center himself. He may not have the defensive prowess of a Paladin, but there's ways to brace for impact, even when all you have to defend yourself is an ax. There's a dull reflective shield that forms from that red aether that sheathes him, and spends itself away with each blow, a little reflective shudder as the strikes blast against his frame... but then the blows are complete, and the catman can shuffle himself up and out of the mess that's being made of... everything, and square up again.     Straightforward and single minded and unwavering is Raha right now. A commendable quality, in some cases. But Flamel's concern is going to get him maimed. Because right now the Single Minded is 'bloody the nose of the enemy'. The catman lets out a rather perilous noise, and raises his ax upwards... and with a much more graceful looping somersault than one might expect out of him, he flips forward, swinging that ax in a horrifying bloody arc.     And alongside it, ghostly, aetheric buzz saws join right in, all aiming to grind Parsons into mince. 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' Rean sidesteps Sarra's attack, it barely clipping past him. "I don't." Rean says, looking at the ground. "But I couldn't just stand by while I knew this was happening, and I don't think I could support the Watch in supporting that assassin." Aaaaaaaand Staren is arguing with the Watch again. Rean sighs. How much of this was even about the assassin anymore? He takes another swing at SArra, not quite at full force, but not quite holding back either. "The faster this is over, the sooner these people can go back to their lives, right?"  At least, that's what he tells himself. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Flamel fires his rifle, bullets rippling through the air. Yang's fast and agile, but even she can't dodge bullets, though she can deflect a few with her gauntlets. Many more rip through her defenses and her body, punching holes and drawing blood, which is quickly patched over by her Aura. Her hair begins to flicker and wave, like flames, her Aura wavering briefly. She doesn't close in again though... instead she shifts her Gauntlets into a different configuration. She then starts punching the air, hurling explosive bolts from her gauntlets to add to the fire, and buzz saws and general unpleasantness around Flamel's person right this moment. She doesn't let up until she has to reload, purging the spent shells and reloading with a flick of her wrists tossing fresh clips into the air, which she slams her gauntlets into, causing them to wrap around into place. 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:''' The barrage of bullets aimed to turn the Cyborg into swiss.  As dust is kicked up by stray shots, there is a hum of power.  The ANDROID BARRIER comes on, as he walks towards Staren's machine, even as bullets fire into the shield.  They are intercepted for the most part, as he seems to be a rock in a stream. Some manage to get through, bouncing off of his body, or causing minor grazing, but the sheer number causes quite the number of grazes.  Seventeen runs through the field of bullets and jumps up to the head of the Mech, and repeatedly drives his knee into the head.   Flipping off the machine with his final knee, he lands.  His sharp eyes stare at Staren, as he slowly brushes some of that hair out of his face.  "Get over yourself.  You can only save the people who want to be saved by you.  You can only do so much.  It is the depths of ego to think YOU are the solution to the problems of the multiverse...and it is people like YOU who end up bringing more suffering.  It is not evil intentions that a madman is born from..." "It is good ones.  The desire to make a better world.  The desire to avenge your son.  Yet these things create monsters in their wakes.  Cause suffering because of their views." "And it's this same thing I see happening again that is you.  You don't actually care about people, only as much as you care about someone to recognize your accomplishments and confirm your belives are right." 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' It takes a little bit longer before Sanary's jaw realigns properly, still wobbling unsteadily after that nasty hit from earlier. "Yeah? It'll take way more than that to put me in the ground!" Noting those cuts making their mark finally, her grin grows for just a moment until Majima calls attention to the weather and the clothing damage. It's a good thing the snow is still snow, or otherwise her face would be visibly heating up at that! Still, it's not every day she gets to fight a madman that isn't just surviving against her wild swings, but keeping up with them and then some. Catching that bat to the chest, she grunts painfully as it jabs in, but it gives her some breathing space as she drops off that wrecking ball and lands below it with an almost-graceful roll! The followup is a little more graceful, at least, as she winds up and flings her axe skywards towards Majima and his vehicle, the two-handed weapon holding enough force behind it to rip through whatever hits! If it hits. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     The embodiment of Oda Nobunaga's own three line formation, scourge of Sengoku feudal lords, death to the worship of the old gods, spearhead of the Arsonist of Hiei. It is the perfect tool for the job. Ranks of gunfire so wide and dense that no invisibility could hide from them. Bullets infused with the essence of modernity discarding the divine. Nothing could be more suited.     It's a tool that the Nameless Gunner used once against her before. Priscilla had not survived through the trials and horrors of Lordran by being unready for a peril encountered once before. She is old, yes. Her name itself means 'Ancient'; a silent wish for safety from a mother long ago, like a charm of longevity. But it's the most dangerous kind of old. The kind that began with nothing, was given nothing, and put through a thousand times more hardship than anyone should be.     The instant the entire three hundred bullets demolish the snow bank without a drop of blood, Nameless should get it. He isn't fighting a dragon that'd sat atop a hoard for a millennia, grown massive and mighty with age. He is fighting someone that lived by pushing on 'one more day', and kept going . . . and kept going.     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5qY-gWF9AF8     A chill voice encircles the house, carried in through every window and crack on the freezing air.     "More than a thousand years ago, now, men decided that I was Evil. In a way, much like thou hast. I had scarcely been born, but that mattered not to them. No such trifling detail couldst matter to something with a hold so powerful as Good and Evil. And for that reason, from then on, anything they couldst possibly dare to imagine, no matter how abhorrent and mad, was somehow fair and just in the end."     Something ploughs into the house from the east wall. The side tears away like paper. The floor splits in two, along a swift, curved line towards him. It carries on through the entire bottom floor, and throws its debris high into the air. Shattered furniture and shorn appliances, medical supplies, food, and weapons scattered into the wind. The familiar fixtures the Watch here had come to know. The floor is pierced through all the way to the basement.     "Thou see, when one is not simply 'wrong', but Evil, all other things cease to matter. Nothing is unacceptable anymore. Everything is deserved." 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Flamel is quickly enflamed, but he's quick, and he's not entirely biological -- luckily, a few swift movements let him roll and the roll through wet snow is enough to keep him from spending too long with his pants on fire. "Gaaaah!" He shouts. And when he scrambles onto his feet, he's barraged by bolt after bolt from Yang! He has to cut the volley off fast!! But as he looks to her, he sees a glint in the corner of his eye, and then... something frightening. An axe, heading for his brain. He is full of lethal fear, and his breath chokes in his throat. "Ghhhk!"     BZZZZT.     He has a barrier. A circular, thick psychic barrier, gleaming white and translucent. It shimmers and shines, and hums with odd energies, but has cut off the damage to him: N'Raha's strike would have obliterated his body, but he managed to have it mostly obliterate the outer ten layers of barrier instead. The shockwave from the impact is enough to send psychic shards to the surrounding foes, but Flamel himself can't attack further for a moment. He's tanking, or so it seems, and trying to recover from the exhaustion of even evading that danger! 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima does not do a great deal of ranged fight. Also, who the fuck throws an axe? He's knocked clean off the wrecking ball, falling off into a snowdrift, blood visibly falling down after him. Nishida, who has just been trying to stay hidden from Rean and Sarra, leans out of the crane. "Boss?! Boss?!" There is silence. There is nothing. And then, like some sort of terrifying snowdemon, Majima erupts from behind the pig farmer. His body flashes a burning blue flame, and he makes a very, very risky gambit. Mostly, he tries to grapple around Sanary, one arm around her neck, twist one way, and with his other hand, twist the other. This may, very well, tip the scales in his favor. It is, also, weirdly the least lethal neck-snapping in the Multiverse, but we try not to ask that question. HEAT ACTION: ESSENCE OF CHOKING 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''      The wall comes free, the blade carving through the room. The Nameless Gunner moves to grab it, and it's pain, raw pain, running up through his right hand. He squeezes against the Lifehunt Scythe in defiance of all common sense, his horrid golden eyes locked on Priscilla's own. There's something deep and terrible in there - not a misguided madman with no concept of his own actions but a thing that has already determined that he is himself a monster who hunts monsters. He is not a Hero of Justice. What she is looking into is a demon that hunts demons.      "Have you killed?"      The words cut through the blazing snow as gold light shines around the draining blade. He's sacrificing his own life force. He knows it's foolish. Foolhardy. Insane. She can tell. He's feeding her. For some reason. For some purpose.      "If you have killed," he says, "Then you are evil."      "There is no good reason to take a life."      "Not even yours."      "But the Work is not done."      "I am not the judge. I do not hate you. I do not even dislike you. I am not Good. I do not do what I do because it is right."      "I do what I do because it must be done. Because as long as there is Evil there must be someone to drag it into Hell."      "If you have killed."      "Then I am your executioner."                                   LONG AGO                                        'I don't care. Whatever it takes.'      The black-haired girl grabbed his arm. 'This will kill you.'      'Fine.'      'Are you really that stupid?! There's other ways we can do this. We can...we can solve...'      The red-haired man looked her in the eye. 'Does she have time for that?'      The black-haired girl hung her head. She said nothing. Her eyes didn't meet his. He nodded, and held out his arm. 'Then we don't have time for a third option.'      'Give me his arm.'                  A thousand blades wasted without purpose.                   

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''                                  RIGHT NOW                                       His lips are moving.      He's chanting.      "I am the bone of my Sword."      The binding on his arm comes way. The red bandage falls apart. The arm is not the same color as his own skin. It's lighter, gentler. It's surging, too, like something is bursting forth under the skin, struggling to be free. Cyan light runs across it in circuit lines.      "Steel is my body and fire is my blood."      The cyan blaze burns so bright it pierces the blizzard. It punches through the snow. It roars through the house's walls. It is a physical force being unleashed, something growing in that arm.      "I have created over a thousand blades."      The world starts to twist. The sky goes black. The snow vanishes from the ground, blown away by some forceful wind.      "Unknown to Death , nor known to Life."      Gears. Massive, unbelievable gears. They devour the sky, hanging nonsensically in the air. They hang on the horizon. Slowly, slowly, they begin to grind. The gears are too big to be real. Too big to be sensical.      "Have withstood pain to create many weapons."      The house disappears. In its place, all around, are swords. Large swords. Small swords. Gigantic swords. Guns. Daggers. Bows. Spears. Scythes. Hammers. All of them are scattered across the ground, standing straight up and down, macabre graves for a life spent in pursuit of the destruction of evil.      "Yet, these hands will never hold anything."      The glowing blue arm surges upwards. It pulses. A sword stabs out of it, punching out of the hand. The Nameless Gunner winces. "So, as I pray!"                           UNLIMITED BLADE WORKS                                Ketchikan is gone. Ketchikan is devoured in a rust-colored sky, in an endless hill of swords that stretches in all directions. Ketchikan is devoured in a storm of blades that sweeps the world clean, swallowed into that hill. That hell. That hell of blades.      The Nameless Gunner's face finishes restoring itself, a thousand tiny knitting swords tying off the last bits of flesh. His left arm is out of control. But he doesn't care.      In that left hand is the Lifehunt Scythe.      No. Not quite. It's degraded, weakened. It's not the full majesty of her blade. He couldn't possibly do that. But he doesn't need to.      He swings it with full force, to shatter it against her, and another forms in his right hand.      In this place there is no end to these blades. 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:''' Staren makes his response. Riku is about to respond when the horde of constructs comes in to spit acid and bullets at him. The Eidolon is out of position, being used to try to smash the mecha.     Riku lunges back, but in a moment of critical error, his foot comes down on an icy patch that absolutely wasn't that way before the avalanche. Priscilla's area control continues to deny Riku his most powerful advantages and as a result, a moment later that heavy club comes down, crashing into him and clobbering him into the ground. "GG.. GHAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" He yells in pain, unable to stop himself as the intense strike grinds him into the snow, staining part of it red. "Need more... power... Damn it all..." He thinks back to the last time he and Staren had a tiff. Ugh, why is nothing working!?     Before the next strike lands, however, the fallen Riku drops out through the floor using another Corridor of Darkness, vanishing from sight for a moment... And reappearing on Staren's opposite side. There has to be a weak point somewhere! Riku falls back, using the Eidolon to guard him as he begins hurling black flames at the mecha, trying to expose some kind of weak point. Meanwhile, over the radio he points out more problems. More issues. More dimensions and contextual hangups. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Flamel's caught tanking, and the shockwave from the clash of an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object sends shards of energy randomly in all directions. One's headed right for Yang's face. However a flare of golden light shatters the psychic shard, and Yang steps forward, letting the energy waft around her as her hair ignites.     And then Nameless changes the entire field into Unlimited Blade Works.     Yang doesn't care. She steps forwards, an implacable advance, each step thudding into the ground, dislodging the various blades that create the landscape. "Looks like I've been given a field of weapons." she says, and actually compacts her gauntlets again, cracking her knuckles. "I don't need weapons, not to beat you, not to beat anyone..." she shifts forward, and runs at Flamel, bringing an arm back to deliver an overhead haymaker at the psychic. "I ONLY NEED MY FISTS!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It didn't kill Parsons. Parsons is still in front of him. He's still alive and he's still breathing and hells dammit what does he have to do?     The psychic shock wave slaps into N'raha and somehow that just makes him madder. He's not dead, he can still find new depths to the Beast. He staggers up to his feet, and then...     Swords. He's in a land of swords and weapons and murder and death and this is acceptable to the Warrior of Light. Not that he's going to grab any of them, but he's happy to be here. Or he would be if he could feel anything but FIGHT at the moment. He's a little winded though. The feeling is mutual with Flamel on that one. He steps up, slams his axe into his chest and bellows. "FIGHT ME." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Flamel's psychic shrapnel cuts into her flesh, but she's trying to pull herself to her feet.... The landscape changes. She's falling again, sliding down a mound of weapons, blades tearing into her, catching on her skirt, tearing her apron. She tumbles down with a clatter, her eyes wide with confusion. Finally she comes to rest, reaching out with her hands to at least sit upright, cutting her palm in a sword beneath her hand. Her other hand, there is warm metal, vibrating ith some familiar energy. She reaches down and lifts it up so that she can see what it is. A hammer. A magnificent warhammer...though it's handle is a touch short. Inga stares, open mouthed. Is this even happening? Ah, well...if ever there was a sign. Inga calls up her magic and the air fills with electricity. She points the hammer toward Flamel, and discharges a deafening bolt of lightning. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' That was more effective than Sanary expected. She lets out a half-blowing half-whistling noise as Majima drops from the wrecking ball, glancing back as he lands in the snow. She looks over at him for a moment, then sighs before looking up towards Nishida in the crane. "... You up there! Get your boss and get outta here! He's probably st-" And then Majima bursts out of the snow out of nowhere. She's too slow on the draw to even react to that, barely turning her head by the time he gets his arms around her head and neck. There's a violent struggle as she tries to get the mad dog off of her, that awful snap, and she goes limp in his arms. At least, for several seconds. That green shimmer continues, though, and there's audible popping as her neck stops having things sticking against the sides non-fatally. "H... Ey... Ma-ji-ma." Her voice gurgles while her head twists slowly. Not completely at a 180 degree angle, but just within the outer edges of normal human limits as her eyepatch comes into view on that side. "Why... Are you here?" There's a pause, and then she turns the other way a little more hastily so she can actually see from the eye on her non-covered side. "Is it for your friends? Or..." Now that she has a better look at him and the strange field of weapons that Nameless has brought them to, she finally starts moving again. Grasping a nearby blade (ugh a sword), Sanary starts taking wild swipes at Majima to try and get some distance. They're not particularly strong swipes or even well-practiced ones, but she'll have to make do until she finds something more axe-like and gets her body back in check. "It's not for some... Moral posturing bullshit, is it?" 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      'Crimson Rose' tries to sidestep Rean's counter-attack, but is only partially successful. She spins away, her stumbling disguised in the pirouette, then just huffs at Rean while holding her side for a few moments where she was hit. "It is less about supporting that assassin and more about making the Concord see that they cannot simply do as they want without reprisal. They obviously will not put up with such things from the Watch, and the Watch cannot simply stand by while they use people as they see fit to further their own goals! They forcefully invaded someone's mind to get information on the gunman! That is tantamount to assault! Simply because he would not willingly share the information!" she says.      Rean doesn't seem to be leaving, and Sarracenia lets out a little growl of annoyance. "And now they have done this. Trapped and possibly injured innocent people to get at an assassin. An assassin who did what he did because he believes that Staren's methods will cause as much if not more harm than good in the future. I do not think Staren means to harm anyone with his resurrections, and I do not approve of the assassin's methods, but I can at least see his point. Suppose Staren raised a great manipulator who then went on to kill many people? How does someone who admits they have flaws know when they are doing the right thing upon raising someone who is known to be a killer?"      She brings her oversized spiked club to rest on her shoulder again. "I do not support the assassin. But I also do not support such drastic measures simply to get their way." she says, then...      ...just before dashing for him, the world changes. The princess skids to a stop and looks around, eyes wide. "Wh-...what happened? Where are we?" she says, still not attacking Rean yet. She actually moves closer to him, like he might protect her from danger even as she marvels at all the weapons around. "...did Doctor Strange arrive while I was distracted?" she wonders, then blinks. She looks over at Rean, and...laughs a bit and grins as she spots something behind him. "I am sorry Rean, but...something over there looks much too fun to pass up."      She leaps over his head and lands near what looks like a section of some sort of giant honey comb. She pulls on it, and the sand slides away to reveal...some sort of shoulder-held missile pod. "This fight doesn't mean much for you and me, so how about we just have some fun!" she says before pulling the trigger. The first FWOOSH of a missile is accompanied by sliiiightly maniacal laughing. The princess just can't pass up such a fun toy, or such fun explosions! And Rean is tough, right? More and more missiles fire, until what seems like a full dozen are launched, and a series of explosions rains down on her friend.      Of course later she might have to answer to someone much scarier than Rean. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Majima was not expecting that to be the finishing blow. It never is. But it's fun. It's incredibly fun. What's even more entertaining is Sanary just..casually surviving it. With this weird green glow, and her head just casually turning around. She also has an eyepatch, and somehow he didn't notice that. It's kinda touching. "..Eh? Whaddaya mean? Have ya -seen- this place?" He stops. "..Arright, when I said that, it wasn't...it wasn't this shit. Holy -shit-, what is this?" He absolutely just drops Sanary entirely, giving her a moment to scrabble for a blade. "...Did we die? Is this fuckin' heaven?" He hurriedly digs through the pile. Somehow, some part of him recognizes something, and he rips out what, at first, looks like a perfectly ordinary kitchen knife. He sniffs it. The red glaze along the knife almost looks like a burning flame. "...There we go. Nehehe...NEHEHEHEHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!" Sanary's hitting him with the sword. He barely notices. He's getting cut up, and he's bleeding, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. He powers through the farmer's attack, throwing the knife up into the air. He does his best to keep her at bay with a few feinted punches, before he suddenly spins around to drive that weapon right into her stomach with a knee. It turns out that that red glaze is hot sauce. The knife is completely covered in incredibly spicy hot sauce. Not the best thing to put on a wound. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     The other arm bends in August's way and there's suddenly a beam shield there, tilting slightly to take the sword slashes in the least effective way. Seventeen gets his licks in, bashing up the head of the mecha, but knowing Staren the damn thing is probably covered with redundant sensors.     "It's nice to be recognized, but helping people is more important! I told the Union that, I told the League that, I told the Concord that! I don't care about being the Hand, the Concord's given me a chance to help people more than ever before, and for that, I'm willing to ...tolerate some of the company they keep. And because of that chance, I want to do a good job as Hand! So what?!"     "Just because the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, doesn't mean all roads paved with good intentions lead to Hell! That's a syllogistic fallacy!"     The mecha moves its shield to block the flames, which wash over it all the same, melting armor but avoiding the worst of it. It widens the rent August tore in it earlier as the edges glow hot and melt away...     ...And then the battlefield changes.     The Star Hawk freezes for a moment, and Android 17's precise sensors see, among the horde of constructs that WAS waiting just out of vision in the snow... Staren, in his usual armor, standing idly like his attention is elsewhere. And also Staren, in his robot armor, looking around in alarm and confusion.     Robo-Staren stops, and the mecha moves again, right arm swinging to try and punch Dietrich, left arm sweeping a beam sword across the ground over Riku and Seventeen! The constructs fighting Riku part just right to not get caught in it, and then missiles arc across the battlefield towards Dietrich and Seventeen, exploding nearby, and then several more constructs rush in, although there are still plenty hanging back with the Starens. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     "No good reason." The voice comes after him in the wake of the scythe. He can feel where the inner edge split through the house. It's far too sharp, almost possibly so, to leave such wrenching, ragged wounds. It's also far too heavy. It feels like clinging to a speeding car. Something from the side is coming. It'll split the tower into quarters. Collapse it completely. "Yet thou do what thou 'must'."     "If only the world were so kind as to provide no reason to kill. Even the most gentle of places, with the kindest of inhabitants, who had done nothing to a single soul . . . even they . . ."     It's the inside of the man's soul that takes over the land first, and not the falling scythe. Not the one who is Nameless. The one he could have been. Was. Should have been. The snow vanishes altogether, on this barren and blasted plane bereft of anything but instruments of death, stretching away into infinity, full of an infinite number of weapons. Fitting for either of them. It does reappear, however. Not the powdered white of the mountain slopes. An uncanny white shaded with strokes of pale blue, like the contrast of a brush, spreading into the surroundings. Glittering, glowing frost spreads its crystalline fingers out over the earth, slowly consuming meters at a time, burying it in a pristine layer of white. Diamond dust glitters in the air as it plunges in temperature once again. Glinting shards of blue. Little stabs of bloody pain.     It marks the obvious center of where she is. Nameless feels his fingers wrap around the twisted whorl of unidentifiable mineral, like something organic. Even the replica makes his digits go numb, even as his nerves burn at the same time. He feels contact. Like sheets of kevlar over a stone column. Sliding feedback. Splitting. Dark red blood flicks out onto the snow. There's a gasp somewhere in the mist. A crunching footstep. Like completing an electrical circuit, touching metal to metal, deep, impenetrable darkness writhes and burns at his flesh. Black smoke surges up his arm for the effort. Then a wave of wind.     He swings again, and feels the clash of metal on metal, jarring vibration and glassy cracks in the replica breaking to pieces. Another rips through something like thick fabric, coming away tipped in red. He can hear footsteps in the snowfall around him, moving not quite naturally --not tracing any line for long. The backside of a copy strikes with a blunt impact, something heavy sliding on the ice, then crumbles away. One more though, is at last caught expertly inside the hook, throwing off ghostly white sparks, and then wrenched flying from his hands.     "There is no 'Work'. That is what I knoweth. I have seen it. I even believed them, at first. For so long. It took centuries of watching the good preying upon the innocent; the just disposing of the unloved, before I recognized it as its own evil --a true evil-- growing fatter and more depraved on its own justification. It bemoans its cruel necessity with one hand whilst it clutches its bloody axe in the other, carefully weighing the two as if one balanced out the other."     "It is but a special privilege given unto damaged men, by which to act out their darkest madness."     The snowfield explodes all around him. Not into him, but past him. A gale so swift and hard that it cuts lashes across him, tearing away the fog in every direction, spewing snow outwards and scattering it across the land. A revolving arc of death becomes a perfect circle in an instant, then crosses itself at a tilt, killing off the atmosphere around it. For a moment, he can't breathe, though it hardly matters. It's being thrown for a mile, or cut clean in half, that does. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Flamel takes shot after shot. The shield rocks back and forth, shuddering, fracturing all over. Panting and truing to focus, the Psychonaut tries to regain some composure. Some energy. Gotta muster more motivation in that damaged psyche. But he can do it! He's confident he can! Just needs to pull through more and more... Alright, focus. Who can he take down first! N'Raha looks to be the most damaged, Yang the most exhausted -- but he can't dig into Inga's yet, not with that psychological minefield.     And not with that high-intensity hammerblow. It smashes through the shield, sending Flamel flying and flipping back. Heck! What can he do, what can he do...! His Plan Inga nearly found out before isn't going to work out unless he can get these people off his back! He moves as fast as he can to go for what may be a weaker link, one still more and more exhausted by all this. Pulling the bolt on his heavy rifle as if loading fresh thinking into it, he unloads an absolutely horrifyingly heavy barrage of strikes towards Yang, trying to take her off her feet and put her down under one of those weapons with a series of shots that feel draining, painful, and exhausting!     For the others, he has to scatter a dangerous barrage of strikes, a series of continuous confusion micro-grenades that make it harder and harder to see him or target him during this sustained effort. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August is thrown back by the sweeping arm, doing barely any damage himself to Staren. Dietrich's armor is further crushed, as he slides backwards through the battlefield. The battlefield shifts. It is a wasteland of weapons. August can work with this. He's armed, sure, but Nameless had...special weapons. August immediately diverts to grab a curved knife stuck in the ground, moving to check the blade against his finger, cutting deeply in an inch and regenerating as he stings the pain, and then grabbing a pistol at a further distance. Holding one in either hand, August starts charging the mecha. He leaps towards Dietrich in the middle. August jumps onto Dietrich's hand, and gets /thrown/ upwards at the mecha. This is risky. This is insane. But, with these weapons... First is the pistol. It's got a wooden grip, a cross on the side of it. As August goes flying, he begins firing at the cockpit. Holy energy forms from the muzzle, and rends into the mecha's armor, able to tear holes into it if it hits. And then comes the knife. The knife, a curved blade, Indian in make, moves to slam straight into the cockpit. It should break as it impacts. It does not. It embeds itself into the machine, as August attempts to pull it downwards with his body, slicing down and perhaps tearing open the cockpit's armor. And perhaps causing him to fall, too, but if he does, he'll just keep firing holy shots. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' That sword didn't quite cut it. Tempting as it is to toss that strangely gleaming blade with the hole in the middle aside, she's forced to hold onto it a bit longer as she gets a better look at her surrounding with Majima. "So this is... Shit, just how much power does that guy have?" She mutters with a pained groan as she glances over towards... Actually, she's not sure where Nameless is. She can't worry about him too much for the time being, though, as Majima demands her immediate attention with that normal-ish looking knife. It's not the knife she's worried about, though, as he charges at her and forces on the back foot again, tossing that sword aside to block those hits with her arms instead since.. Well. She really doesn't like sword. It's probably not the smartest idea, though, when Majima's feints work wonders in getting that knife into her gut. She tries to ignore it at first, but the searing ends up drawing uncomfortable fidgeting, then painful howling and thrashing once the capsaicin kicks in. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS WHY WOULD THIS BE IN HERE" She is not having a very good day. Even the healing magic only goes so far in numbing that vile awfulness, but the pain seems to hit a breaking point before the howling stops and Sanary becomes one with the pain. The searing. The utter suck. Also, she found some axes. One, an with golden detailing and radiating with ancient power. The second, covered in blue scales that look like they might've been torn off a larger creature. Both, taller and wider than Sanary. Of course she's going to hoist up both of them. She can't move very quickly wielding either one, but she's going for massive swings regardless. She's opting for a more 'attack everything in Majima's general direction' strategy this time, banking on her strength to move them fast enough to keep up with him! 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks at the hammer in her hand. She says a quick prayer of gratitude then puts it down by her feet to take up her knife and cut a fresh wound into her arm. Flamel is trying to confuse them while he goes after Yang. She can't have that. Before her mind can become too clouded by his attacks she throws a blood ward up around herself to purge whatever curse he was trying to cast. She closes her eyes for a moment, and when they open again she's focused on him once more. "You'll just make her more angry, you know. You really don't want that," she says in regard to Yang, then flicks her knife toward Flamel, showering him with a mist of acidic blood. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang's struck, over and over by those painful hits, knocking her back, pitching her completely off her feet and into a pile of weapons, the blades piercing her Aura and cutting flesh.     That would normally put someone down and keep them down, the demoralization, the exhaustion and the pain. All that just pisses Yang off even more than before.     She gets up, pulling herself up with obvious effort... exhausted, pushed to her limit, but mightily pissed off, she snaps. Because she spots a splash of yellow amongst the silver and grey, a few strands of hair that were pulled loose from Flamel's attack.     "YOU..." her eyes close for a moment, then open with a full 'eye glow', yellow with red points where her irises would be, and a burning, white-hot pupil. "I'LL KILL YOU!" she bellows, charging forwards. Gauntlets unfold and as she falls on Flamel again, even in her exhausted state, she flails, punching, kicking, elbow strikes, headbutts. Anything to get at the Psychonaut. 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''      "Of course it's evil."      The Nameless Gunner says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, through gritted teeth. The cold of the scythe is pain, but pain is his lot in life. He's withstood much pain to create many weapons. This is just another moment. Another pain. Another thing to internalize and scar and make part of him.      For however long it lasts.      "You don't justify it."      The scythe shatters. Another one appears in an instant. In this place, he has no such limits. He need not conceal. The other hand pulses, and blades push through the skin. It's horrible to look upon. He uses that arm to 'block' - as if such a thing can be done - the incoming scythe cut, the blade meeting another blade as it digs into the wrong-colored flesh. It stops him from being carved in half. Anywhere else and he might've been flung away; here, he just skids backwards, the Hill of Swords itself reinforcing him with blades to block his fall. The sky tears slightly, but it repairs itself moments later, as the arm seals up before it can start bleeding out. Wasting prana. Wasting power. Wasting energy. He can't stop until she's gone. Until they're gone. Until he takes as many as possible.      "You don't pretend it's something worthy."      "You take a life and you are Evil. You take that into yourself." The Nameless Gunner's scythe breaks again, an explosion of power fracturing around Priscilla. Another scythe appears in his hand, and another, and another. He's flinging them at her in rapid succession, one after the other, giving no time, no pause, no moment.      "It's not necessary because it's just. It's not just because it's necessary. It's necessary..."      "Because it's mathematics."                                    LONG AGO                                   'Senpai...'      The purple-haired girl's smile was deranged. Her eyes were full of tears. Her skin pulsed with red. Her eyes glowed a deep and terrible light. Black force oozed off her, corrupting, evil liquid. Behind him, a blonde woman clad in black had fallen. Behind him, a priest lay bleeding on the ground.      'Senpai, it hurts.'      The red-haired youth took a step forward.      'Sakura'      The memory cracks, black tears flowing through the glass.                   Unknown to peace, nor known to justice.                        The scythe is abandoned. No more use for it. In its place a club. A massive club, a heavy club, a club the size of himself or bigger, wielded in one hand like it's nothing. The other hand, the same, the same club, the same massive, monstrous, brute-force thing, swung around like it weighs nothing, like it means nothing, like he's skilled with it.      "There isn't always another way."      "THAT'S WHY!" The Nameless Gunner roars, the first real emoting he's ever done as the massive clubs swing, "THAT'S WHY YOU ACCEPT THAT YOU ARE EVIL! SO YOU NEVER LOSE SIGHT OF IT! SO YOU NEVER LOSE THAT MOMENT!"      "THE MOMENT YOU CONVINCE YOURSELF THAT IT'S JUSTIFIED"      "IS THE MOMENT YOU LOSE YOUR WAY!"      The clubs come down hard, smashing into the hill of swords. "The choices you make! The lives you take! Kill ten for a hundred! Kill a hundred for a thousand! A thousand for a million! A million for a billion! "      "They are always evil! There are no just choices! Not where life is concerned!"      "Nothing can be saved unless everything Evil is dragged into Hell where it belongs!"      "Do you even know the name of the man you're seeking vengeance for?!"                     These hands no longer have purpose.                     

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Nope. Nope, Parsons is still up and he's still moving and now he's aiming more beatdowns at Yang. Not that Yang can't defend herself, but it's still the principle of the thing. Raha is the tank, tank wants aggro, wants fight, this magical grenade bullshit is not Fight. This is Not Fight at all.     Raha once again dashes in at Flamel, and this time he reaches out to take a proper swipe at the Psychonaut.     Bravura sweeps in another arc, looking to drop Parsons to his feet, sweep him low and knock him out of position. 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:''' The beam sweeps over Seventeen, the barrier attempting to negate what it could.  To its credit, if not for the barrier that blade would have torn through his body quite easily.  Instead, it leaves a burn mark across his skin and probably a scar to remember the fight.  Knocked to a knee, Seventeen stands up, those cold eyes still staring. "Strawman, much?" He says, as the world changes.  The gears and weapons that lay around him.  The blasted wasteland underneath the weapons, and the torn sky.  It was like a void, nothing existed here but the weapons used to kill.   It was disgusting. Seventeen pushed forward, throwing himself at Staren after the beam washes over him, aiming to try and slam both feet into the side of the Starhawk, before flipping up and over the machine.  Both hands come up, and then point down like balls of light rain down, exploding around Staren as they fire.   "Did you ever think that my life was changed by someone who thought like you?  Someone, who eventually fell to their own arrogance, their own vengeance, and their own self-belief in their own superiority?" Those eyes, don't reveal any emotion, his face betrays nothing.  He stares at Staren with that unnerving stare.   "No, because the only thing you desire is people to tell you that you are right, and pat you on the head.  Eventually, you bow to one slightly unreasonable demand, and it becomes less so.  Eventually, you are taking two children and forcefully converting them to Cyborgs without their consent because of your pride." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' "...I dunno, eh?!" Majima's bent backwards, now, knees bent as he screams. It's..not a manly scream. It's weirdly shrieky. "Eehehahah! Pity everyone else is just fuckin' talking, eh?!" Christmas, as near as Majima can tell, came exactly three weeks early. He just thrusts his hand into the pile of blades again. Sure, it's nicking him, but that's fine. Who cares? Who cares about any of that? There's practically everything he could dream of in here! While he's digging, Sanary is at him again with the axe. But his adrenaline is too high. These meagre strikes--they don't matter. They cut into him, he bleeds, the jacket is in ribbons, but none of it matters. What matters is that this is it. This is the world of ecstasy to which battle takes you. He was joking before. But now it feels real. Now he's got a baseball bat. It's metal. Emblazoned with--something. It's hard to tell, because the bat itself is burning with blue fire. "...Shit. I ain't..I ain't seen this thing in decades." He looks over at Sanary, eye blazing. "...Arright. Don't ya dare fall over ta this one, girl!" He rushes forward, first planting his bat in the ground. He flips over it, but his feet also do not connect with the farmer. They land firmly on the ground, and his whole body wheels around again, solely as a vector to swing that bat 180 degrees around from ground to the ground Sanary Rondel is standing on. For her sake, she'd better not still be there. 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:'''     Staren yells his response again, and Riku rises as he sees the wave ove the world changing and overtaking the area around them. Weapons are everywhere, spreading about. Legendary blades, flourishing like weeds as he rises in the terrible field of endless despair that is this land.     "You don't listen to people at all. You just do what you think is best. You really are a know-it-all jerk." The laser sweep comes again, this time, but this time Riku is prepared. He reaches out, and there is a hissing noise as there is a flickering of a blade in his hand, and the mecha-scale laserblade shears, fragmenting and scattering all around him to shred the constructs that surround him.     When the light fades, Riku is seen standing there with a longsword of ancient, Norse make, all decked with gold and gleaming bright... But scorched, as if by a terrible flame, blackened marks running down the length.     "You're even more annoying than Sora. You may as well just be slapping hands over your ears and yelling 'la la la, I'm not listening'. All you care about is how people see you. Time to put an end to it."     At that, Riku launches forward, running up the arm of the mecha and flipping up to perch on top. The scorched blade is brought up, and in a single deadly motion, he plunges the sword down, attempting to drive it straight into the mech's left shoulder with a powerful blow, up to the point that maybe he'll even get mechfluid all over his arm. He'll simply leave it there, hit or miss. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' "Heh... Right? It's just posturing! White noise! Posturing!" The pain keeps her from realizing that she said the same thing twice, but it's also keeping her senses sharp as she continues that deadly dance with Majima. Although her moves aren't anywhere near as fast as his, she's also putting massive amounts of force into each swing to clear a path and to try and reach the construction worker. And then he grabs a flaming baseball bat. That's probably not a great sign for her, but it's something worth keeping her eye open for. "You, too? I thought I lost this thing ages ago..." She nudges that blue scaled axe onto her shoulder as Majima charges forward, crouching slightly in preparation for getting whacked in the face again. He doesn't go for her head, though. He goes for a confusing array of maneuvers that leave her unsure of when to strike, and it's only when she gives up and just brings the golden axe down at Majima that it finally makes contact, bashing right into her with a sickening crack of metal on bones. "Kkh... Y-you know what? You'd do wonders with an axe, you know. And you don't... Sound like the type to get wrapped up in all that other bullshit." It's probably not a good thing that she's heaing so rapidly, all things considered. That knife is still stuck in there, there's probably bones that will need to be re-set heavily later, and the healer is all but running on fumes. Still, being at that range means she's close enough to start hacking away at Majima again, and if she can just get that axe firmly into him? She might still manage to pull this off and back up Nameless! Majima can probably see that there's something off about Sanary's attack, though. The physical force and the skill are there, but she also looks a bit distracted. Disappointed, even, but not in him. It's something else. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Flamel manages to get a partial Shield up before all the acid gets on him, but much still winds up stinging him badly! "Ghhh! Well, it's hard to follow your ideals without making at least a few people angry!" He insists. "I'm going to stick to them! I've gotta make sure this doesn't turn into any kind of MAD situation -- you /know/ the kind of pain an assassination can cause for that sort of thing!"     But Inga isn't wrong. Here comes pain and anger. Yang goes right for him. His eyes shoot wide open. "Nononono! Shit!" He swears! She lands on him, and... he's gone. Vanished. Adrenaline is a fickle thing; she's pushed it into that attack and it was either going to take Flamel's brains out of his delicate little skull or it wasn't, but it fades soon after. But invisibility isn't teleportation. Forcing him into the retreat means that N'Raha's sweep catches him off-guard, and sends him cartwheeling into the dirt. No more soft snow. Just bleak hills and endless weapons.     Flamel doesn't like this place. The inside of The Nameless Gunner's mind. It's too painful in here.     What next? What can he do? Does he have the strength for another of those barrages? He has to hope he does. With a desperate gasp, he focuses this time on N'Raha. "OKAY! I'LL FIGHT YOU!" He shouts, trying to give him the validation he's looking for. In the form of attention, in the form of words, and in the form of a painful barrage of swings, a dozen, no, two dozen telekinetic fists launched from Flamel's own, each laden down with the same sense of over-exhausted pain that Flamel is feeling right now.     The blastwaves from each impact are enough to toss shattered terrain into the faces of the others nearby. But he can't focus on that. Yang has the corner of his eye. He's in a panic, noting the way her demeanor has shifted and understanding it quite deeply. He's definitely on the backfoot with this encounter. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     YES. YES THIS IS WHAT HE WANTED.     N'raha senses the attack coming, feels the killing intent, feels all of it welling up on him the aggro, everything else. There's wild speeches and grandious posturing and endless Talking Talking Talking going on around him and he is blind to it all because the Fight is what matters right now. And the fight has come to Raha. He takes a breath, plants his feet and howls in... joy?     Yes. Joy, as the blows rain down on him. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Is there joy in this? This bloody duel? This awful clash of mind over matter? The beating of those physhic blows continues to rain down on N'raha, and there's a horrible energy that overtakes him. And in the middle? A chain whips out of the melee, and WRAPS itself around Flamel. Raha YANKS, and tries to drag the Psychonaut to him. Face to Face. Toe to Toe.     A horrible red glow masks Raha's face under the visor of his helmet. A very VERY pleased Lion Rumble shakes the Miqo'te's armor. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang missed.     Yang keeps coming.     The young Huntress picks up a weapon, in contradiction to her earlier statement, and hurls it at Flamel as she half-limps. Blood seeps down from cuts in her body, but she keeps coming. She'll keep coming as long as she can still stand and swing her fists.     As Raha finally gets Flamel's attention, she comes in with another overhead haymaker. It's sloppy, a far cry from the tight, focussed combat style she had earlier, but likely no less deadly if it connects. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima and N'raha are not so different, it appears. The axe strikes barely convince Majima to dodge. He's swerving left, he's swerving right, but it's almost a dance. The glancing blows do not seem to affect him at all. "...We're both sick o' the bullshit, ain't we. This all coulda been solved with one fuckin' pinky. Noone wants that shit. Not really. This is what they fuckin' want. This is what I want. And right now, I'm havin' a whale of a time. Ain't ya?!" He cackles again, thrusting his arm wholesale into the pile of blades. A maniacal grin on his face, as this time, a more serious weapon comes out. A katana glowing with a purple flame. Majima's got much the same look. "Normally I ain't able to do much with a sword like this. But in a place like this? I'll fake it. Yeah. I remember this one. Ame no...some shit. Who cares. It's a sword." The Mad Dog of Shimano is moving differently now. Fluid. Like a snake. He's weaving around, dancing somewhere between woozy and malicious intent, before he finally makes his move. He waits for the axe to swing, and-- It was a trick. He's bit the axe. He's literally bit the axe with his goddamn mouth, and he's holding onto it. He delivers a kick to that knife still sticking within Sanary, ripping the axe free. The Katana drops to the ground. He doesn't care about the katana. He never did. The axe is his prize now, and he swings it back around to demolish the healer. HEAT ACTION: ESSENCE OF BLADE BITING 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "MAD? What are you talking about?" The acronym is lost on her. Inga narrows her eyes as Flamel turns his offensive attention toward Raha. "That wasn't a particularly good idea either, you know. I must warn, I do not See this ending well for you. You may wish to withdraw," she says, putting emphasis on 'see'. Raha is getting what he wants, though. She'll let him do his thing and keep an eye on him, if Flamel chooses to ignore her warning. Pieces of terrain (which is mostly weapons!) come flying her way, but her ward mostly guards her. There's a couple fresh cuts, but the ones from earlier are already starting to mend. Since there is still fresh blood however...Inga flicks another wave of acid-blood, but her attention is mostly on her teammates now, ready to heal them should they fall. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     August has a mecha-slaying knife! It's got a +9 against mecha! Which... seems to be enough to stop him from missing this time! The holy energy melts away the outer armor and partway into the canopy -- it looks like glass, but it's got to be some kind of high-tech transparent armor. Inside, Staren sits motionless at the controls... but then, that's normal, since he controls the mecha with his mind, right?     The knife cuts into, but not quite through, the canopy. Still, that's got to be a hell of a structural weakness now if someone else can hit it hard enough...     Seventeen flies up and rains destruction down upon the mecha. It dances, trying to avoid fireballs, but even explosions /near/ it add up, and in some places half-melted armor plating begins to fall off. Mentally, Staren sighs. They accuse him of not listening, and they don't listen themselves. And clearly Seventeen's got some baggage. It would be so easy to just dismiss them, to not see them as people with agency, but as slaves to their pasts... but that can't be the way forward. The people speaking up in his defense... they wouldn't be doing that, if they'd unpersoned /him/.     Maybe there's no point in talking further right NOW, though.     Riku hops atop him, all three of them now out of construct reach as the boy stabs deep into the left shoulder. It smokes and bleeds oil, exposing the metal 'bone'. A good hit to that would take that pesky shield arm out of comission...     Staren, controlling the mecha as if it were his body, is covered in opponents. "Gah!" He lets out a cry of annoyance and tries to swipe August and Riku off with giant mecha hands, while some of those constructs carrying missiles suddenly launch a volley up at Seventeen! 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' Sanary looks shocked when Majima speaks. "... You get it, too. All that bullshit... Things haven't changed at all since the war." She starts laughing, the flurry of attacks almost becoming like background noise to that understanding between them. That moment of clarity. "Everyone spouting crap about who's right and wrong, who's gotta do what to who... All because it makes 'em feel better about ignoring the shit they pull themselves!" That katana won't stop her. It doesn't stop her nearly as well as the dog's bite, chomping down on the blade of that axe carved from scales of a blue wyvern. She tries digging it down into Majima's face, but that's just the opening he needs to slam that knife further in until it's literally buried in the healer's gut. She spits out a dangerous amount of blood, but she doesn't have time to mend it fully now. She'll just have to stop the bleeding and hope it does't get into any internal organs too badly. The fight is all that matters, and it's the only thing keeping her conscious at the moment. "I don't get this pinky business, though... That a thing where you're from?" It doesn't hurt to do a bit of learning while she's trying to chop someone up. Dropping that giant axe, she jerks back to grab a second one thatl ooks significantly less fancy. It's practically a giant bone shaped vaguely like an axe, but from something twice her size. Recognizing the shape, she draws it back as parts shift around, and it turns into a massive sword instead. "... Don't really like these things, but eh." She'll improvise, opting to rear it back, then leap forward as she tries bringing it down on Majima whole-body while red energy pours out of the glowing bone blade! She also spits out more blood, as a result of jumping forward with that freaking thing. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     "Mathematics."     The voice floats to Nameless' ears as if a ghost were beathing into them. So close he could touch. It pronounces the word with disgust. "Mathematics hath nothing to do with evil nor necessity. Not once. It is called 'cruel calculus' because it is cruelty. To slay the few for the many; it is a necessity fabricated by humans. Even without a pretense of justice, it excuses death."     "Nothing need be dragged to hell, nameless one. That is something only thou hath decided for thineself. A creation of thine own making; and yet thou hast surrendered all choice, thine very sense of reason, to it. Speaketh not to me of saving anything. Of doing anything. A man who Wants nothing shouldst stay silent."     "Or else, tell me. What wouldst thou do if thou were not forced to kill by thine own hand? If thou had not surrendered thine own mind to that code. Never choosing. Slavishly obeying. If that house were thine home, and thou were still in that kitchen, what wouldst thou even prepare? What wouldst thou be eating? What book wouldst thou be reading?"     The ultra giant club smashes down on the nameless hill of swords. The ground ruptures. The ice cracks. Frost disintegrates into ghostly blue-white fire. Shards of stone fly like arrows. Swords and axes, pikes and spears, tumble through the air. Several ricochet free of something in the air, creating biting streaks of crimson. A lance comes to a dead stop, the first foot of its tip disappearing, then hovers away. The metal screams, and snaps in half, then discarded.     "I did not choose. I abided by goodness. By necessity. I raised mine hand against no one. I remained pure. A child. In the end, all I did was alloweth the lost and helpless, who came to me seeking salvation, to be chewed to pieces just as I. Whether they repented or raged, sought to help others or to strike back, or desired simply to do nothing at all, nothing changed either way."     "So many lives, all so very different, unique in their own way, and they all simply . . . crumbled away. All in the same fashion. At the end of it, I saw that all I had done was erode more gradually than they. Just as thou hast, thou lost soul."     He can feel it now. Those hits he took earlier. The healing isn't enough. The wounds have closed, but they've only sealed in something worse. An existential poisoning, racing not through his veins, but through the arcs and channels of his soul. It's not as if his limbs seize, his vision blurs, his heart slows, or his breathing labours; it's not like any wound or hindrance he's ever experienced. It is teeth. Teeth inside him. A hundred little formless things. A thousand bites. Dreadful, shapeless fangs, biting at his essence, tearing at his hardened body and spirit, sinking in and gripping. He is Hunted. They have him. She has him.     The last of the dust and snow and rent metal falls away, clattering to ground like rainfall. The debris scatters, waved away all at once, with a great, scornful hand. Priscilla emerges from the middle of it, cut and bloodied and pierced, and towering over him. Almost twenty feet tall. Her shadow drowns him. Her eyes are cast into darkness, but glow with the cold yellow light of a predator. Her breath steams from her lips as an eerie blueish fog. Her hair is tangled and partially stained with blood. She exudes cold fury beyond description, from every angle of her body. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     Something is wrong. She's rattled. Furious. Wild. Yet, that fury isn't directed at him. Her eyes pierce right through him, her rage washing over him --past him. A thousand years of hate and grief is too much for any one man to deserve by himself. It's so much more than just him.     "Gared." That wasn't the man's name. "Alicia." That's a woman's name. "Vilhem. Anrei. Cassia. Elise. Arstor. Orsten. Sabrin." She just keeps going. Names upon names upon names with each and every step. She advances on him. Twenty. Forty. Sixty. A hundred. "If because I killed for them, mine choices matter not, from now and ever on afterwards, then I shall simply follow whatever it is that this heart of mine wishes for. Regardless of what it is, not a single word from thine mouth wouldst change in the end, wouldst they?"     Priscilla's scythe sweeps broadly over the ground. It misses Nameless completely, but impenetrable, streaming, almost liquid darkness, like ink blossoming in water, follows it. Like a great stroke of a brush across the ground. Gleaming, glowing, searing white ice races across the hill of swords. It spreads like a wildfire. It engulfs hundreds of weapons in an instant. Spears of ice erupt all around him and under him. A gale of slicing snowflakes blows over him. The ice burns and ruptures, unstable, exploding into magic so raw and primordial that it simply disintegrates flesh on contact. Where he cuts it, breaks it, even where his footprints scrape away the snow, the ice bleeds, oozing red from nowhere. 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:''' Seventeen was preparing for his next attack, he just had to wait...but then something surges in Staren.  Gritting his teeth, he might have mistimed this, but it's too late to back down now.  He dives towards Staren, right as the barrage flies at him.  The barrier comes to life, trying to protect him the best that it can. An explosion rocks the entire area, as all of those rockets and Seventeen collide.  From the smoke, Seventeen still flies forward.  Body battered, bleeding, and looking like another direct hit like that would put him down.   However, he was still coming.   He aims his full force on top of Staren's cockpit, aiming both hands into it.  Energy builds up inside, but before that, his Android barrier effects around the two of them.  To contain the explosion in a small area, and make sure it tears through Staren more, at a cost to himself.   Regardless of if he is successful or not, he goes flying from the attack, smacking into the ground and rolling over until he finally stops.   

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     N'Raha drags. Yang crashes with more and more crushing fists. Inga tries to sear his flesh from his bones. But Flamel seems to be... elsewhere, in a sense. His brain is overloading badly. Quite literally, in fact: The man's machine nature is a little more clear every second. His skull is beginning to light up under the flesh, and sparks emerge from his slicked-back, messed up hair. "I need to-- This is wrong. This-- This is wrong!" The world shudders strangely around him. His interaction with the mindscpae, his interaction with the psychic plane, shudders him like a piece of sheet metal being wobbled for its sound.     Instead of suffering every strike, all of a sudden, he suffers none instead. Three huge telekinetic hands, three strikes blocked. One even pulls the chain clear of his body. "Will you just /let me do my plan?!/" He shouts, clenching both fists and slamming the ground, releasing the overloading stress-energy in his brain in a shockwave around him meant to catch all three combatants. It carries with it a palpable sense of everything Flamel has felt about the wrongness of this soul-world, and turning that psychic influence to weaponized force. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' "Eh?" Majima says, taking a moment to breathe. "It was bullshit twenty years ago when everyone was losin' their shit over a fuckin' empty lot. It was bullshit last year when it was everyone losin' their shit over ten billion yen. Any time anyone tells ya they're fightin' for reasons that ain't the fuckin' thrill of it, they're full of SHIT!" He stomps forward. Yeah. There's blood trickling down his forehead. And out of most of his limbs. Right now, though, the pain doesn't feel like pain. It feels like a reward. The warm trickling rivers feel like a soothing, cleansing rain. He grins madly. He's still got his usual knife. It'll do. The demonfire dagger glints in the light of a world of a broken man. This is his paradise, and he's going to claim it. He's still burning purple, as he stalks towards Sanary. "Yeah. You fuck up, you cut off a pinky. Shows respect. Shows you know what the fuck ya did wrong. And that's what noone 'round here seems to get." He says, "Nah, they all gotta argue for fuckin' hours about how justified it was. Could be out here! Doin' this! Wasted fuckin' weeks!" Sanary leaps in with the blade. Majima brings up his knife. The tanto somehow blocks it, though the vibrations from the blow clearly rock through his body. He doesn't care. "...ya gotta just..rejoice in everything." He manages to finally push the axe out of the way, moving in. He's going for the throat. He's probably losing the knife, one way or the other. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August stabs into the cockpit. He's knocked back, slamming hard onto the ground, crushed. Bones break, puncture. They knit themselves back together violently, bone ripping from where it punctured and back into his body, blood cells multiplying. August slowly stands up, away from the mecha now. He needs to be stronger. He needs to be able to use this weapon to its fullest extent. He drops the knife, and takes the pistol with both hands. Nameless always incants with it, right? Nameless...he had taught August many things. They were alike. They both wanted to be just, at least at one point - despised evil, despised monsters. They'd do whatever it took to slay it. Nameless was probably the only person in the Watch who August felt he could follow the path of. The revolver is cocked, as August points it up at the glass canopy. Though he wouldn't admit it to the others, August admired Nameless. He never let the others draw the line. And, too, neither would August, he wanted to believe. He would be strong. He would be the greatest leader the Watch ever had, able to destroy all obstacles in their path. Trying to incant, August looks at the gun again, and guesses at its name. Wood...a cross. It couldn't, could it? "Dogwood...Dogwood!" August shouted, but it did nothing. Not at first. And then, in frustration, he pointed it up one more time. DOGWOOD The revolver lights up, white, and then fires. A colossal beam emerges, holy in nature, a purifying blast. It scorches the air and burns it white hot, moving to impact straight into Staren's cockpit and try and purify it away. Try and melt him. August was a lot like Nameless. And that realization finally hit him, as the beam activated in his frustration. He was a lot like Nameless. The man giving his broken story. The man who could save nothing. The cold-blooded killer. Nameless, the monster. The gun drops to the ground. August's face is one of horror. What has he become? 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:''' The arguing and moral posturing seem to be over for the moment. This is both good and bad. Good because well, it is what it is. Bad because it means Staren is paying more attention to winning. The mecha hands come back for him. This time, he's ready for them, leaping off moments before impact. This time, the strike only clips him, sending him spinning as he falls, immediately lege-grabbing back onto the mecha and holding tight as he grimaces in pain. "You can give up anytime." He gasps, breathing heavily. Already, he almost feels tapped out. How can this thing be so /hard to kill/?     As the mecha flails about, Riku reaches out and grabs at a passing blade, an absurdly long katana of some kind. It's completely impractical as a weapon, but the extreme length is what he needs right now. With a flip, he vaults up into the air, giving August and Android 17 their room as he vanishes into a Corridor.     Finally, when the smoke clears, Riku drops down, blade-first, striking for that weakness in the cockpit and trying to simply stab through to try to get at the catty nougat center. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' That's it, then. Flamel's psychic shockwave hits her hard. She cries out in pain as she crumples, clutching her head as all that stress and wrongness rushes through her mind. She shudders, casting a healing spell upon herself. It's a few moments before she sits up, and she still looks rough. "What plan is that?" she asks, and once more she opens her Sight and tries to tease out the threads of his wyrd to see what it is he intends. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Under these circumstances, Flamel can little defend the idea.     Inga will, of course, spend no less than several subjective hours deep within a somewhat dangerous underground bunker and laboratory, where strange men run tests on exotic memories and anomalous mental images, where figments of the imagination are ruthlessly categorized and stored to prevent their dangerous breach, and all kinds of things like that. But eventually she finds what she's looking for.     What does she find? It's a secret. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Flamel wants a moment to breath, wants a break in the action, wants some measure of respite. And Raha... just can't let that happen. He's here for a reason and there's blood in the water and it's probably his at this point.     The Miqo'te howls as he barrels head first through that mental blast, the force of it jarring... something loose inside of him. That's going to hurt, he's going to feel that at some point here in the next... whenever it takes for Inga or whoever to roust him out of his Odinsrage. He grips at his ax and...     Wait. There's words escaping him now. "I Admire Your Gift, Parsons." The words are... horribly calm and stilted, coming from a Raging Beast. "But Leave. Now."     Raha punctuates that with a swing with the Flat Bit of Bravura, looking to wedge all of the wind out of Flamel's sails. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren keeps trying to dodge, but their attacks strike true! Seventeen slams into the cockpit with everything he has. A spiderweb of cracks spreads over it.     Dogwood shoots holy light at the heart of the machine. The glass starts to melt, then a hole forms and the glass sort of melts and curls away as the noble phantasm burns into Staren's armored flightsuit, through the layers of chest armor until tatters are all that cover the black nanoweave bodysuit Staren wears under it.     Riku goes Sephiroth and just runs Staren through.     The catboy jerks in his seat from the impact, but otherwise doesn't respond as his blood begins to pour out.     And then Staren's trap set for Nameless, the bomb inside the cockpit, detonates, filling the cockpit with intense heat that strips electrons off of atoms!     The constructs that have been waiting for targets to appear on the ground again rush August and Seventeen, aiming to just lay on a beatdown before they can recover! 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''      "The world gave me that."      The Nameless Gunner's voice is low and cold. It isn't pointed at her. It's pointed at him. "I sold my soul to the World itself. To be a weapon. To do the cruel calculus. To keep mankind alive."      It isn't an excuse. It's a statement. A flat, simple statement. A truth. He gave up his sense of self to serve something higher because he had nothing left. He gave up his sense of reason to serve a cause that would torture him forever because he deserved to be tortured. The hatred in his voice is pointed squarel at himself. Priscilla's rage, Priscilla's hatred, is a cold bath. He's been hating himself for as long as he's existed. What's more hate piled atop that?      The sense of being Hunted is a pulse against his vision. It's a reminder of those moments. Of the same clubs he's wielding smashing down upon him. Of the same weapons attacking him being dodged, being spent, being pointed at him. The sense of massive things bearing down on him that he cannot fight. That Emiya Shirou cannot fight. Something that cannot be defeated.      Something the old Emiya Shirou could never accept.      For a moment, he is that young man again. It's a surge of determination as the liquid darkness sweeps across the land. He's dodging ice spears as closely as he can, the blades cutting through skin as he fights with knitting himself together, as he fights the attack with his own willpower. It was the same, wasn't it? Beaten, bloodied, Emiya Shirou. Fighting something that can't be beaten.      "Where would I be?" He asks in between the bloody ice, in between the spears, as his own blades crash against them from afar, smashing into the spears with all force, as much as can be mustered, as much as can be wielded.      "Dead on the countertop, the gun in my hand." 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''                                   LONG AGO                                        'Thank you...senpai'      Blood on his hands. Her blood, spilling down those hands. A white blade, a black blade, rammed through her stomach, up through her chest. To make it fast. To make it quick. To make it hurt as little as possible.      The red-haired youth falls to the ground. His eyes are gold. His eyes are broken. He is already gone. In that moment, he could no longer pray for redemption.                   Unknown to peace, nor known to justice.                                                    RIGHT NOW                                        The black and white guns appear. Dozens of them. They're firing on all cylinders, bullets shrieking through the air to hold back as much as possible, to fight against the primordial explosions of magic and flesh-burning death. They're holding her off.      "But let's pretend."      The Gunner dives past another explosion, a massive sword emerging from the ground to shield him. It disintegrates, and another is pushed up, and another, and another. "Let's pretend that I deserve to smile. That the man who killed the one person he wanted to protect above all else deserves that happy moment."      His hands are shaking as he fires around the sword. Not with a lack of aim - no, nothing can throw off his aim. But with hate. Hate for himself. A blade of ate pointed right at his chest.      Another set of guns emerges, firing on more of the spears. Swords from all around the Hill are dislodging themselves to fly around and carve through ice. They're breaking, but so what? That's what they're for.      "She loved Dim Sum."      The memory is cracked, and flawed, but still there, still clutched tight to his chest. Parsons gets a burst of hate and anger. "Jiaozi dumplings."      "Lotus leaf rice."      The smile is getting distant. Her smile. The purple-haired girl standing in the kitchen, cutting vegetables. That girl who called him senpai. That girl who clutched him close and in tears told him what she was. That she had been violated. That she was impure. The weeping, shuddering of that frame.      His arms around her.      His fingers in her hair.      The words 'I don't care.'      The words 'I love you.'      The smile on her face, choked through those tears.      He reloads the gun. "I would be making her those things. She would be making tea. And then we would sit and do our homework."      "And that would be our day."      The hovering guns turn to black-and-white blades. The Gunner surges from behind his cover, lunging for Priscilla, slashing and carving with his own guns as the blades around him come down like rain.      "I would still be there with SAKURA." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga breaks through. Time distorts. In the inner world of Flamel's mind she finds what it is she was looking for. It isn't some secret to defeat him. Not at all, really. When she shakes her head, coming to, she tries to pull herself to her feet and limp toward Flamel. Unfortunately, Raha is very much still in a rage, and still trying to attack him. And it looks like Yang is out of the fight. "RAHA! Stop!" she says. "Both of you! Stop! Just..." she sighs heavily and looks to Flamel, shaking her head. "What are are trying to do...I see the kindness in it, but I don't think you should do it. You can't change him. You shouldn't change him. Not that way. Not even... in the end," she says, hoping that even just one person here would stop trying to draw blood and listen. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' That knife does not go in a good place. Even with Sanary dropping her axe to try and stop it with her hand, the knife goes right through both hand and neck, likely enough to put a person down for a long while if they weren't so good at cheating their way through terrible injuries that should have killed them. Sanary does not have nearly enough dignity to stop cheating. Her movements slow down considerably as she gurgles incoherently for several moments, reaching up slowly to grip the handle of the knife. There's a sharp yank, a burst of green light, and then she drops in a bloody, bruised, and burnt mess. She's still alive, though, and that's what matters! For now, anyway. "He... Heh. Okay, yeah, that's... I know when I'm beat." She laughs, coughs up another gout of blood, then holds a hand against her neck to pour some more healing magic into that. She doesn't look like she's quite capable of standing, but she does manage to glance around slowly at Majima and the ongoing battles all around them. "Survival ain't a bad reason either, but... Yeah. I get it. The pinky thing. Much better than..." She gestures at her earpiece, then groans again while falling on her back. "All this shit. I'm just in it defend one of my guys, you know? But..." Another groan. "... I'm getting too old for this shit." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima looks pretty spent, as well. Sure, he's not bleeding from one or two knives sticking out of him, but he's still roughly speaking, bleeding all over. He gets up, slowly, shaking his head. "...Heh." When did he fall over? ...It doesn't matter. "...I like ya. Glad ya didn't die there, eh? Ya would ruin my record o' never killin' a guy." The adrenaline's gone. There's just the warm afterglow of having had a really, really good fight. He needed that. He absolutely needed that. "...That was good. I liked that shit. I ain't sure what the hell this is all about, in the truth of it, but I got what the fuck I wanted outta it." He reaches forward with a gloved hand to help Sanary to her feet. "...Come on. Probably don't wanna fall asleep on a hill fulla swords, eh? Let's get ya into the fuckin' crane. Nishida can drive, ya know?" Nishida has liked precisely nothing about anything that has happened this entire night. He's just atop the crane now, clinging to it. At some point, the driver's cab just completely filled with a pile of incredibly shitty swords, and he's completely done with this. 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' Rean doesn't respond, not at first.  Neither group is right. So he's just...here, in a failed attempt to fix things. Maybe it'd have been better if he took a page from that night Staren got assassinated and drew on all that rage he felt when someone he admired was on the verge of death. At least he wouldn't have to think. The world changes, and Sarracenia suggests they just mess around since neither had any real reason to be here. He doesn't move. The bombs slam into him, and he just lays on the ground, in a crater, his hood blown off. And then Nameless speaks.  He tells that story again, of that boy who sold his entire existence to save the world. And to a different boy who still lived trying to undo anything he did that he deemed a misdeed towards others, it was a cautionary tale. "...Why punish yourself like that?" Rean says, missing the irony just a bit. This was beyond anything anyone deserved...even for killing someone he cared about to save her. Something that he may one day have to do to Mikoto himself if they could never change her contract. Becoming less of a person, until there's nothing left. Becoming nothing more than a tool. Was that a path he possibly could wind up on? If one day, he lost everything? He coughs a few times, and sits up. He looks around and there's another sword laying in the sand near him. He picks it up and looks it over, then gets gets up. Sarra's probably really concerned about him now. "Sorry about that, Your Highness."  Rean says. He then runs at her with both swords out like a ninja or something like that, probably looking like a fool. 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:'''     Riku silently comments to himself as the blade managed to punch through the heavily reinforced cockpit that he honestly wasn't expecting that to work.     Of course, then he finds out why. Staren is not the only one who can rig their stuff with bombs. He sees the blade punch through the cat-scientist only to be filled with light and heat, the burning detonation ripping through him, searing flesh and more as he is sent bursting away like a comet, trailing fire and blood to crash into the cracked wasteland. His blood joins the countless others that have soaked this place. Agony rolls through all of his senses, his muscles trembling. He doesn't want to look at himself. He can't look at himself.     At the same time, he can't remain here. "This... isn't over." He whispers through parched, bloody lips. A Corridor opens beneath Riku, and he casts himself into the Darkness, fleeing from this place.     He can't do any more here. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' Robots tackle August, as he breaks the cockpit and it turns out to be a fake. August suspected it was...but Staren's robot's replacement is going to cost him a Ton Of Money, at least. As the robots charge August, he forces them back with super strength, kicking the knife back into his hand, using it to try and ward them off. He doesn't attack. They, hopefully, won't attack him. It's a standoff. But he has no energy to truly fight. He has no Willpower to truly fight. But he can't retreat. Can he? 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' "I.. Do like being alive more than being dead, yeah." Sanary chuckels lightly at her own shitty joke, still groaning and audibly creaking from bones bending and rubbing where they shouldn't be. "Hard to believe you haven't killed a single" guy with the... Uh." She gestures at her neck, then at the knife /still/ buried in her gut. One pull and a brief bout of screaming later, and the knife is no longer buried in her gut. "It's... A weird situation, but it sounds like somethin' deeper than our fight. Pride and stuff, honor, all that... Thing." She gestures vaguely in the direction of Priscilla and Nameless, squinting lightly as she adjusts her earpiece to make sure she can still hear pieces of what's going on. After that, she takes Majima's hand to get up. "Wouldn't mind checking this place out, but... I dunno. There's some stuff that needs to get worked out with all of that first, and..." Sanary trails off, an anxious frown crossing her face as she watches the ongoing fights. Part of her is tempted to rush back out there, but she bides her time for the time being to observe. She'll gladly take the offered seating in the crane, and Majima gets a bit of heaing magic directed his way to keep him from bleeding out for at least a few more hours. He may still want to see a real healer about making sure things don't get stuck healed improperly, though. "Got a bad feeling about all of this, y'know?" 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     Priscilla was right there.     She was right there, just a fraction of a second ago.     She was right there and then she wasn't. It doesn't make any sense. The snow hadn't moved. The air hadn't moved. Countless blades pound the grotesque landscape of snow and blood, skewering it a thousand times over, carpeting it with a fresh hill of abandoned swords, wasted in the Nameless Gunner's own mind. His weapons carve through the air, rending and cracking, but it still doesn't make any sense.     A trump card?     "And I supposeth, thou killed her, the few, to save the many."     "What hast that brought thee?"     Her voice comes from everywhere and nowhere. The heaviness of its quiet grief is a palpable weight on his shoulders as much as he can almost feel her shivering hate like a pressure against his face.     "Not long ago, all I had wished for was to give unto everyone else who has so suffered at the hands of the Right, a place where they wouldst finally be safe. A when and a where, at last, happy, beyond the insatiable, pervasive bloodlust of the righteous. Where that girl wouldst no doubt be now. Not so long ago, that thought alone had felt faintly like salvation."     "Even simply seeing an unfortunate, naive, hopelessly foolish boy, slowly becometh a man that stands for second chances, even when none were ever offered to him, had felt, somehow, as if such things could heal, little by little. As though people art more than deeds of once long ago."     Then, the wind picks up. It rises as a creature disturbed, wavering from the ground, lifting up streamers of writhing snow. Cold, deep and unnatural, whips through the valleys and spires of ice, churning through the gaps, carrying blood in the wind, howling as if bereaved. The landscape starts to crumble again, rapidly becoming an inferno of magic. Not quite magic. Splinters and embers rain down upon him. The air freezes above him, and becomes an impenetrable cloud like ash. It's just as if he stands in front of an inferno --a raging fire claiming the remains of a city, scorching his lungs with smoke and his face with cinders-- but only ice and dark and emptiness.     "But that bottomless desire to cross boundaries . . . to erase lines, to instill shock and fear, to make those thou deem evil feel hunted, unsafe, unwelcomed anywhere, stopping at nothing and for no one . . ."     "I am already so very tired of it! I am already through with being barred for all eternity from feeling safe! I am sick to mine bones with how no line I couldst possibly draw is ever safe from people like thee! It seems that the entire world is indeed filled with nothing but endless variations of righteous madmen, each of thee inexorably compelled to tell me over and over, that I will never, ever, be allowed to be free of it! That the very world abhors that I shouldst ever simply be allowed anything! Thou hast never cared for the justice of it! All that any of thee hath ever cared about is whether or not I 'win' and nothing more!"     "Men like thee exist without reason! They hath no purpose but to take! Always to take, and take! They scream blasphemy, and take from me! They scream evil, and take from me! They scream justice, and take from me! They scream retribution, and take from me! They scream freedom, and take from me!"     "The few to save the many; worthless! Not once hath it ever caused ought but misery! I shall slay the many to save the few, as many times as I must!"     Right behind him.     "Thou shouldst hath done the same."     Too late? 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Unfortunately, the impact cannot be entirely stopped. Flamel moves to intercept the strike, and he grits his teeth. He holds the flat of his hand out -- and it's joined with the flats of twelve, no, two dozen translucent hands, all of which shatter on impact. He's slammed backwards, skidding over the ground, his brain jarred, sparking now as much from psychic overload as it is from the constant barrage of visions and emotions that he's getting from being in this inside-out poisonsoul.     Inga gets a quick response, one where Flamel's head starts clearly sparking and shuddering as he suffers the effects of the visions of pain and hatred. "Nnnnh... Dammit. Look, I know I can't change this, fine. Yes. It won't change substance, but that's not how this works. When you take responsibility for something, it's not about changing the substance." He says, his voice taking on a rather insistent edge. "I gotta make sure I do this right, if I'm going to have been part of this! It doesn't need to change anyone, it doesn't need to change anything, but it needs to be done because I'm responsible for some of this. Psychonauts have /ways/ we deal with these things." 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      She fires those missiles, and Rean just...gets hit? It didn't seem like he even tried to move, really. She lowers the launcher and waits. And waits. And...Rean just lies there. After a minute or two, Sarracenia does get worried and moves toward him. "Hey Rean! You didn't get actually hurt did you? Mikoto would...I mean what do I care? It is not as if we know each other because I am Crimson Rose not this Sarracenia person!"      Rean finally gets up, and picks up a nearby sword before rushing at her. Sarracenia moves to parry the attack with her kanabo, but only manages to catch one of them. The other slices at her arm and causes her to yelp before twirling away. He apologizes, and she just smirks lightly. "It is alright. You seem like you are having a hard time today." she says, then looks toward where Priscilla and Nameless are fighting. "...I wonder if you have to be some ancient being to have suffered like they have?" she asks Rean, then looks at Rean again before looking around. A few of her faction have had to withdraw already, and Sanary is...getting chummy with her opponent as well. Sarracenia blinks, then laughs a bit and shakes her head lightly. "This whole thing is ridiculous..." she says quietly to no one in particular.      She doesn't attack Rean again for a few moments, listening to what she can hear of Priscilla's and Nameless's battle conversation. It is a sad conversation, and a subject which Sarracenia feels like she has no experience with at all. She hasn't really had friends to lose, she hasn't really been barred from things. She has been ostracized (as much in her mind as anything), but not persecuted. And she definitely hasn't had to kill someone she loved.      She takes a deep breath, a bit teary eyed, and lets it out slowly. And she wonders about Rean and Mikoto as well. There seem to be possible parallels there. "...you won't turn out like him, right?" she asks, them pauses a moment. "No, I do not believe so. If you started down that path, I am sure Mikoto would do something. And if she did not, I would." she says with a smile.      That smile turns to a smirk. "But, I hope you will not mind if we continue! I doubt we will get a chance like this again, to test each other's strength!" She charges toward Rean and spins once to bring that big club around, aimed at his side. 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''      "I killed her to save her."                                   LONG AGO                                        That girl died with a smile on her face. She fell to the ground with a smile on her face. The pain of her life was finally over. The pain of her burdens were finally over. The blood on his hands, her burdens, her pains, would be his to carry now. The blood on his hands.      The blood on his face. Smeared on his face as he cried into his hands. As he wept the final tears those broken eyes would ever weep. Mingled with her blood. Mingled with that blood that he loved so much.                                  RIGHT NOW                                        The blade goes into his back.      It goes in deep. It goes in fierce. It digs into his chest, so close to his Spirit Core it's almost a joke that it doesn't pierce through. It's so close.      But that inch is all the difference.      He grabs onto it with his torso. His body knits closed around it, rapidly. His gun flips backwards, his golden eyes locking onto hers. "The many to save the few."      "Until no one is left but the ones you choose."      "Until no one is left but the ones you deem worthy."      "Until nothing is left but the precious eggs you hold in your hands."      "Until the whole world grinds to a halt for you and you alone, and you stand on a hill of swords, with everything dead around you to save everything else."      His lips curl back in a smile. "In the end, we're the same. From different sides. Everything you care about will fall apart, too."      "I am the bone of my sword."      Gold streaks across his arms and back. A broken pot in the middle of the hill of swords. With enormous effort, in the middle of his run, he shoves the silver gun into the red one.      "Rusted my body, dark runs my blood. A thousand blades wasted without purpose."      The gold light burns across him, and then collapses into a single point. A bullet. A bullet so horrible, so foul, that even looking at it hurts. A bullet holding more than death.      "Unknown to peace     Nor known to justice."      The bullet slots into the gun.      "My life, my name, my will, all spent bullets."      The gun rises up to press against Priscilla's chest.      "So as I pray."      "Unlimited Lost Works."      The world cracks.      The hill of swords rusts.      The sky turns a foul and horrible black. The gears stop turning, lashed down by rusted chains. Every sword, every blade, every weapon in the land turns to rust as the hammer meets the bullet, as the bullet discharges.      It is a horrible thing. It is that hill of swords in a single bullet. It is a hill of swords condensed into a single shot, to burst forth from its target and tear it asunder from the inside with the agony of countless self-tortures, of countless agonies, of countless pains.      The hill of swords around them begins to crumble. The sky falls like puzzle pieces. The ground splits like an earthquake. The world is coming apart.      The hill of swords inside...? 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Flamel goes down and Raha snarls. He's not getting up. He's not fighting. Why isn't he fighting? He literally just told him to stop fighting but the Beast is fickle and... and this isn't how things are supposed to go. The horrible redness behind Raha's visor flickers and deepens... and then fades... and goes right back. There's a struggle going on here. The utter awfulness of what's going on around him is finally sinking into Raha's brain and-     No. NO WE FIGHT. The Beast takes control again, and Raha stalks forward, ax raised... as the world shudders again. But still he staggers forward. Blood is dripping from the tassets of his armor, and still he moves forward. He's not dead yet. "...FIGHT ME." 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August's knife rusts away. August steps back, drawing his standard revolver, but his hands are shaking. The ground is splitting. The world is changing. This is the full power of the man known as the Nameless Gunner. His true name...will forever be a mystery. August is shaking. But he won't allow those drones to knock him unconscious. To take him away. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga gets between Raha and Flamel. "Please don't make me do it. This is over. Just let him go," she pleads with Raha, reaching out to put her hands on his shoulders, looking to Flamel. "I suggest you go, too. This isn't a good place for you. It isn't a good place for any of us." Then the strange inner world starts to crumble. Inga grabs onto Raha as if afraid she's going to fall. 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:''' Staren comes at Seventeen again, the two clash, even as Riku and August collapse to their knees.  However, this time, despite being down in the snow at the end of his attack, he flips up and over the strike aimed at his prone form, and attempts to kick off of Staren.   Even as Staren swings, Seventeen moves around trying to keep up.  The field around them collapses, but he still has to keep up the pressure should they need to work longer here.  Seventeen is nearly beyond his limits, and beyond words right now.   Pushing himself to the brink, he tries push his speed as fast as he can go.  Power surges through his body as he just appears to be a flickering series of images, trying to confuse and throw Staren off.  This is until he comes right towards the cockpit of the Starhawk. Enough force behind the punch to blast out of the back of the mech, should he connect, blowing snow away for miles.  Drained, tired, and nearly on his last legs, he resumes a fighting stance.  Putting on airs to keep going.   

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Flamel jams the bolt back on his rifle, his eyes blazing beneath the sunglasses. They're cracked badly, badly enough that he discards them. "Get out of my way. I've got minutes at most, he's-- Ghhhh.... Nnnnnnhhhhhhhh!" Flamel's head is sparking badly. He can't hold it in. The visions, the sheer, unfiltered pain he can feel of someone doing what they're doing now -- shaping a piece of their mind and soul into a weapon.     "No mind is a good place to be." He says, speaking quite articulately for someone in such deep pain. "It's why we have friends. It's why we make connections. Because anywhere in the world is better than being inside the mind. It's awful. Nightmares, personal demons, intrusive thoughts, self-destructive habits, anxieties, Psychohazards... it's a mess. It's my job to be here. Here, now, doing what I'm doing. I'm going to take responsibility for what's happening. And I won't fix it. But I won't miss a chance to do what a Psychonaut is trained to do."     He pulls the bolt all the way back and ejects a heavy psitanium shell, then scowls and advances on N'Raha, gun blazing with rapid-fire blasts. He WILL get to Nameless. He WILL execute his plan. He won't let this catman get in his way. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Out of everything else tonight, had one goal. To bloody the nose of the Concord. To make a mark, a dent in this plan, this... whatever it was going on out here.     But that psitanium round is just too much, and even more so as... Raha forces Inga out of the way of the shot, turning into the blast and takes it right in the side. Tankbuster. The round makes it through the last of Raha's aether, the last of his armor, the last of his rage and...     The lights in Raha's visor go out, and he crumples to the mud and dirt and lack of swords. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "I SAID STOP!" Inga screams as Flamel attacks Raha again. She turns on Flamel and tries to plunge the little knife she usually uses for her blood magic into his neck. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Flamel's eyes flare brightly. Everything is collapsing ahead of him, but the man strides calmly, loading a fresh magazine and pulling the bolt back dramatically again. When she plunges the knife towards his neck, the light in his eyes surges and another dozen psychic hands latch onto Inga's arm. From fingers to shoulder, they lock all throughout her arm. "Get out of my way, Inga. This is serious. This is the end, and fighting me won't change that. There's only one thing we can change, and that's the things we take responsibility for. I'm taking responsibility for this." He won't stop.     He has to do this. He has to execute the plan.     He twists her arm as ruthlessly as his rather non-lethal mind can manage, trying to make sure she doesn't come at him with the blade again... But trying to make sure she has enough strength left to grab N'Raha, and perhaps even Yang too, and evade danger. Just enough strength. And if that works, he intends to approach the place where Priscilla and The Nameless Gunner are ending their feud once and for all. He has a Plan to follow. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     The golems trying to give Android 17 a beatdown aren't very fast -- he can easily outrun and outfly them.     With its cockpit blown out and Staren not expecting more attacks on it, the Star Hawk is a sitting duck. Seventeen punches right through it, tearing out the nuclear reactor!     Actual Staren winces behind his visor. The giant robot begins to fall, but suddenly runes glow across its form and it halts, before slowly standing up again and lumbering away. It is in bad shape, and would be even if Staren HADN'T set off a bomb in the cockpit, but it's in enough of one piece for magic to move. The golems, humanoids of metal and concrete wielding kanobos, leave a few to keep August busy and keep chasing after Seventeen, while the two Starens and the mix of golems, robots, and giant clockwork spiders around them move to run...     But... run WHERE, exactly? They're trapped in this world, and it's falling apart! Right now, Staren wants to get away from Seventeen, though, before losing even MORE resources. This went better than he hoped, and he'd really like to quit while he's ahead! 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' Rean looks towards Priscilla and Nameless. "...Maybe." He's not sure but...the Multiverse was full of possibilities for everything, even tragedy. "...I..." He's not sure of this either. He didn't know what the future might hold for him. But he smiles when Sarracenia says that she and Mikoto would stop him if he went down that path. "...Yeah." Not just them but his classmates, the other Paladins, and all the others he's met over the last few months. At least, for now, he has people who are willing to guide him.   Then the soulscape starts to collapse. After some discussion, Rean grabs Sarracenia's wrist without thinking and starts to pull her towards the portal. "Good enough! Let's go!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' He grabs her and twists her arm easily. She grits her teeth against the pain, but there's nothing she can do. "Go! Just go!" she yells, trying to twist out of his grip. When he lets her go, she uses her knife again, this time on herself, to get the blood needed to cast her healing magic on Raha. She crouches by him, pumping as much healing into him as she can. "If he dies, gods help you," she says to Flamel, turning away from him to focus on Raha. Yang will need healing as well. She's nearly spent herself, but she's won't stop until they are on the mend. 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:''' People are panicking about exit plans. Riku thought they had this covered. THERE WAS A PLAN, HE THOUGHT. Sarracenia left her airship at home too. Plan B is out. And so there's Plan C. Which means he has to do this. A long distance away, a nearly-unconscious Riku holds up a hand and opens the Corridor of Darkness.     On the battlefield, a black portal opens. He gave his directions. The others can escape through it if they don't have anothe way. But he can't guide them. Go directly forward, he said. Do not deviate. He is going to be /very/ put out if he has to try to fish you people out of the Darkness. Move. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     "Silence. Priscilla only breathes, yet it crackles and groans all the same. "Thou 'killed her to' nothing. Thou killed her and now she is dead. Her blood on thine hands, over and over and over. That is all there is."     The seconds before she moves. The space in which the Nameless Gunner is surrounded, on all sides, by a thousand potential blades, and none at all. Where more and more teeth sink into his being by the minute. Snaring his flesh. Piercing his veins. Stabbing into him like white hot knives; shards of glass; hellish biting flies; cold black embers.     "A world of only those I chooseth . . . A world in which there art no men who feel the need to kill. In which there art none who speaketh of justice or evil. Whence none art cornered and trodden down and art robbed of their lives. A world of people who art precious to me, and abide by me, and liveth their lives in peace. A Cold, and Dark, and Very Gentle Place."     "I see nothing wrong with such. Neither shouldst thee. There is no reason for thee, save that with hearts calloused and scarred with necessity, thou cannot understand --will not understand that of another. Imagining up cruelty to reject and drive away empathy. Dreaming evils into existence to cast out harmony. Thou art indeed, exactly the type of men who deserveth not to exist in any world of mine."     The blade flashes. It sinks in. It's not gigantic anymore, but keen and wicked and it slips between his ribs. A Deep, uncanny, unknowable, unbearable darkness blooms from it. Thousands of jaws clench taut around every fibre of his being, eagerly waiting. Hunting hounds. A hunter without form or identity, save hers.     "If thou shalt respect no line not to cross, then I shall cease attempting to draw them. If thou cannot alloweth me even one place where that which I care for is safe from thee, then I shall see that nothing that thou care for shall ever be safe either. Must I be forced to slaughter thine own families before thou shalt begin to treat mine with the barest compassion?"     He isn't dead. The origin bullet --the thing that contains everything he is, embodied in that Noble Phantasm-- shoots into Priscilla at point blank. The flash of the muzzle is absorbed with a dull thump and a jump of her body, barely any taller than he, but nothing could possibly contain what spills out of it. Transfixed on his blade as he is on hers, swords, spears, knives, daggers, lances, arrows, blades of every single shape and size, gathered throughout the countless pointless battles he has started and ended, erupt from Priscilla's body. Ivory skin splits, crimson blood drenches the ground around her feet, metal skewers her from within, cruelly thrust out in every direction. Through her heart. Through her lungs.     Priscilla breathes out, and the fog streaks across the Gunner's face. It isn't cold or even magic, but raw, spiritual essence. The stuff of souls. Blood drips from her lips. She wipes it away.     "So be it. Sharpen thine swords and be glad as it happens." She twists the blade. A million thirsting fangs clench. His blood rebels. His magical circuits turn on him. His spiritual core turns to commit suicide.     "If we art the same, then the reason that thou hast died here is obvious. Thine goal was impossible from the start. He who doth nothing but kill cannot lessen evil. He can only add to it. Such is the way that broken men leave the world."     Priscilla blinks. Her Lifehunt ability fires. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     The shapeless, timeless, formless monster that is the Dark in Priscilla's grief and resentment, isolation and always burning hatred, tears the spiritual body to ribbons.     Blood becomes blades, slicing and spearing outwards in flashing ribbons of murderous scarlet, painting the ground with every last ounce. Flash frostbite takes all the extremities at once. Magic seethes and rampages within, gushing from the spiritual core. The body is torn apart by am impossible wind of rending teeth and horrific, transcendental violence, insatiable in their grieving brutality.     It's like a thousand years of the desire to hate and to avenge and to kill and kill, aimed at all the world, manifested all at once, for an instant, in one person. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     The PORTAL OF DARKNESS is the way out. Staren just has to hope that everyone will be too busy escaping to fight further. The golems break away from August and Seventeen to run for the portal. The Star Hawk picks up its reactor and lumbers portalways. And Staren and his remaining decoy flee towards the portal as well, surrounded by more constructs. Pay no attention to the catboy behind the curtain!     Staren doesn't think for a moment that Priscilla might be in danger. The First can take care of herself, and if she'd needed help, she'd have asked. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Nishida is not a brave man. He tries to be. Majima is his idol. It's why he was in the Majima Family, and why he stuck around for Majima Construction. The fact of the matter is, he's never going to get to be the hero. Even now, as he's finally brushed most of the swords out of the driver cab, he's not really a hero. Even as he gets into the driver cab, dropping the weight of the wrecking ball, and pushing the vehicle forward, he's not at all a saviour. Majima for his part grabs on. Nishida takes a perilous route through the collapsing world for anyone else who needs out with him. Sure, it's horrifying, and sure, he's sweating and ...frankly, worse things may have happened. And, sure, he's about to drive everyone trying to escape directly through a nightmare dimension he's never been to and know anything about. ...But he can do this. He's sure. Everyone is depending on ol' Nishida-san. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia is getting pretty panicked again when Rean grabs her wrist. She blinks in surprise before getting tugged along, and follows after him without attempting to break his grip. Until she catches some radio chatter and looks toward Inga and those with her. "Hey wait, Rean! We have to help them!" she says, and grabs -his- hand this time and pulls him toward N'Raha and Yang.      Once there, she pulls out some red mushrooms. "Here!" She hands one to Rean and to Inga. "Just squeeze it!" she says, then moves to pick up Yang. She may not look it, but Sarracenia is still quite strong. Carrying one person isn't that hard, and the mushrooms would give Rean and Inga a bit of extra strength as well if they need it. "Hurry!!" she shouts, and then starts jogging as fast as she can toward the dark corridor. "Go straight through! Do -not- try to go anywhere but straight ahead!" she warns anyone within earshot. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Parsons is immediately at the side of Nameless the moment the Lifehunt hits. He is not, in any way, interfering a moment before that. His telekinetic grip moves to where he suspects the man might fall or already have fallen, if this is the true end of his life, and offers to keep him in a state of repose. Parsons only needs a few minutes -- maybe just a few seconds -- to do what he wants to do. Whatever happens, as long as he has that moment un-interfered, he will do something.     "Sorry, ma'am." He speaks up, to Priscilla. "I'm not going to stop you, but I had a part in this, and he's... This soul of his was speaking to me. For a while. Until he did all this to it. There's one last thing I need to do." He turns to look up to her.     "If you want, you can join me."     He'll take Priscilla if she chooses to come along. If she doesn't, he'll do it alone. But while this place falls apart, there's one last thing that needs doing. He projects himself, astrally, into mind... 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     In that exact moment, Priscilla looks at Parsons. There is no yellow glow --that perversion of sunlit gold. A tint of green. That look is incalculably different, gazing upon the man who'd never really hurt anyone --with whom she'd averted the Calamity --who'd seen inside her head --the one she'd called too good for the Watch.     "Fine." she says. Not ''Fine'. 'Fine'. 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''      The World Inside His Head Is Twisted.      It's broken. Cracked. Countless, thousands of cracks. A broken, shattered ebony mirror. Everything here is broken, glued together with gold, a fragmented pot in a thousand pieces. The memories are hazy. Cloudy. Broken mirrors. Broken fragments. Broken faces. Even the girl, the purple-haired girl, the girl he obviously loved so much, is assembled from broken glass and hazy memories.      The only thing that's clear are the deaths.      The hundreds. The thousands. The millions. Over and over and over and over. Called back over and over and over. Tortured, over, and over, and over, and over, and over. And all of it circles around that single drain. That broken memory, cracked glass, bleeding black onto the floor and the ceiling and the walls. Oozing spiritual pus.      Littered with bullet casings. Littered with rusted swords. With broken blades.      With corpses.      All of the corpses are the same person.      A red-haired young man.      All of the blades are the same.      Black and white, covered in blood. 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     Inside, Flamel intends to take advantage of something. Generally, it is impossible to change the entirety of someone's life memories. This is because it is peacefully but absolutely lethal, or at least induces severe disability. However, neither of those concerns are the case for someone who is dying. For someone who is dying, they can die with peaceful memories, or they can die with terrible memories. Flamel has taken part in enabling this man's death. He will not go against Priscilla, the First of the Concord, or anything like that. But if this man must die, Parsons thinks, it's worth it to have him die with peaceful memories.     Here are the broken fragments of the memories. Here, each, they are rooted in the most important death that started this: The death of a girl in the past. Flamel cannot change every memory. But if he can change the root of all the worst decisions, he can perhaps adjust the track in some way. He can perhaps make what Nameless became something better.     Is there some way, in the memories, some decision that could have been made such that the girl did not have to die? Is there some way, in the memories, some decision that could have been made after, which would have shortened the torture? Flamel seeks it all out, and tries what he can. What would change the path of his life? What one thing would he have done differently, if he could?     Flamel Parsons performs the Sigmund Procedure -- known to others as Au Clair de la Lune. He wants the man to die in peace, if he must die. What decision would he have made to allow that? It is that which Flamel will seek and change. Perhaps his own mind can do the rest, as it slips into the void. 

:'''{{#var:6999|Nameless (6999)}} has posed:'''      No.      Flamel can see it in the broken mirror. The moment she died, she was already gone. It was a kindness. It was a kindness. It was a soft-hearted kindness, a final act of kindness from a broken man. He, who had discarded his ideals to save her. He, who had failed in even that. All he could do was grant the wish in her eyes.      There's nowhere that path leads but pain.      But that thank you...that smile on her face.      That, he can touch. He can make clearer. He can make....better. He can make that smile, that thank you, that moment of kindness, more poignant. More powerful. He can let the man remember, for a brief, disappearing moment, that that act was not a failure, but a kindness.      Outside, the last of the Blade Works falls apart. The last of another man's soul falls away, leaving Ketchikan, the roofless watchtower, the avalanche, and the biting, freezing snow.      The Nameless Gunner disintegrates into gold sparkles.      ...a detonator falls to the ground.      It's been cut.      It wasn't cut by the Lifehunt Scythe.      Ketchikan Watchtower, littered with explosives, with traps, does not go off.      It doesn't go off.      He had wired it to his spirit core.      He had planned to take them with him in his death.      So...      ...at the last...      A gift from that girl, maybe. A gift from that smile.      Or just a choice made to try and end his life without more death. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August is struggling against the robots. As he does so, he looks out to that hill, to the fight between Priscilla and Nameless. And he sees Nameless's last stand. His final bullet, that tore apart the land, and it can't even kill her. Her scythe, her Lifehunt, rips him to ribbons. The man he thought he admired, the man who he realizes is disgusting, who made him realize he was becoming disgusting, is dead. Disintegrated. Yet, didn't even keep his final promise. August breaks down. His decision is finally made. 99 percent becomes 100. His decision is made. August begins moving for Sanary. As the world falls apart, August starts moving to join up with her, and escape. He knows what he has to do. He's shaking. He's done. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' Sanary clenches her teeth as she watches that duel between the towering dragon and the enigmatic gunner come to a close, her fingers digging deep enough to draw blood from her own hands. She reaches up to rub her forehead and adjust her eyepatch, then glances over at Majima and Nishida. "I'll.. Catch up later. Go." Without further warning, she dives off the crane, then breaks into a sprint. She knows she saw him close to... There. She slows down when she sees Priscilla and Flamel gathered by Nameless, and her hand bleeds a little more. Her lip bleeds from biting down on it. She can feel her blood starting to boil again, not knowing what they're doing or about what's going through the Nameless gunner's final moments. She doesn't have enough energy to do much beyond see, but just one little burst. Just a little bit would be enough to trigger her eye. Just that could be enough to... She sees August, and her jaw clenches tighter. She listens. Sanary takes a deep breath, wipes her hand off, then moves to join August. He's going to need the extra legs to get out of there. 

:'''{{#var:6928|Riku (6928)}} has posed:''' The others, meanwhile, escape through the path of Darkness. To flee the incipient collaps into the void, the annihilation that awaits the violent disassembly of a Reality Marble, a flight through a place that bears little resemblance to the world of light and the reality that they know. Paths pass to either side, a tangle that sweeps through the void. The path is thin.     You feel like you are being watched.     Sometimes, the path looks like it wants sweep one direction or the other. Sometimes, it looks like it vanishes completely. But true to Riku's instructions, as long as they go directly forward without fail, they eventually emerge on the other side....     A couple miles away. On the roof of a convenience store. Riku is lying to one side, blood splattered around him as he keeps the path open until the last person is out. He can't even tell it wasn't even necessary. 

:'''{{#var:70|Priscilla (70)}} has posed:'''     The blades stuck in Priscilla disintegrate along the the man who had wielded them. Embodied them. Become them. She shouldn't be alive. She *isn't* alive. To all senses, she has no heartbeat, no pulse, no breathing, and her body temperature is the same as the frozen rocks. She coughs into her hand, wipes one last smear of blood from her lips, and then walks through the snow, barefoot, stabbed in a hundred places. Her dress is nearly torn to pieces. Not her regal dress, as Queen of Anor Londo and Hand of the Concord. The thick, furry, simple white one. The one she'd started with.     She crouches down, dusts the snow off the detonator, and picks it up. Examining it in her hands for a few, long seconds, her slit pupils contract and dilate again, the tip of her tail twitching the drifts by her feet.     Straightening up, she puts her hand on Flamel's shoulder, though only he can feel its surprising gentleness, and then, wordlessly, walks past him.     She flicks her scythe. It spills a wide, perfect circle of blood around her. Rather than a single word about him, she chooses not to mention his death, or his last moments, at all. Instead, she looks to the smouldering battle still sluggishly playing out, cracking gunfire, burning trees, flying fists and blades, and she says-     "Run." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     A convenience store probably wasn't made to bear the weight of a giant robot so uh, whoops! It's okay, the Concord will pay for it.     On the bright side, Staren (the robot one) sees Riku and immediately rushes to apply nanobandages and healing potions, because dude, the guy just HELPED him, even after everything.     But Staren doesn't stick around or assume this will gain him any further good will. It's time to vamoose! 

:'''{{#var:1094|Flamel Parsons (1094)}} has posed:'''     And Flamel stands from his kneeling position, looking rejuvinated. He has a soft smile on his face. This was an unfortunate, necessary evil for him. But he took responsibility for it. It was bad, and he didn't like it, but he won't regret it. He did his best, and for what little it was worth even at the end, he could make things better. Even the Nameless one whose name he never got to learn, even in his mind, could have just a little more peace.     Until he notices the detonator. Wait, he just defused a bomb?! Holy shit! He actually jumps a little, panting in fear and relief. But then he recalls... the state of the reality marble outside. "Oh. Right, yeah. Yes ma'am!" He says dutifully, taking off as fast as he can, ready to leap and dash desperately through the dangers, and to assist the First however she might need in her own escape. Back to more standard adventures, isn't it? All of this, this tension and pain... in a way, it's over. One death to help many. This man stuck to his guns, all the way to the end. Flamel respects that. 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:''' Nothing. Apparently, Staren wouldn't even face his own messes.  Grunting in pain, exhaustion, and basically at his limit...well there was nothing left to do.  There were calls out for an escape.  The portal, and very specific directions.  Well... Before Nashida can collapse the roof, Seventeen headed right for it, trying to get in before everything was crushed.  Picking up Riku, there was little else to do here. This was a mess.  People were hurt.   

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' August's decision to retire is...sudden, but understandable. It's odd, given Rean's perception of him, but did he really know him, anyway? If this really was what he wanted, who was he to stop him? 
}}

6856/Mapping The Realm: Kamurocho

2019-12-18T14:12:39Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/09/27 |Location=Kamurocho, Japane |Synopsis=Majima hosts Raha on a little tour of his slice of the Multiverse, Raha is rude about Things |Cast..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/09/27
|Location=Kamurocho, Japane
|Synopsis=Majima hosts Raha on a little tour of his slice of the Multiverse, Raha is rude about Things
|Cast of Characters=7055, 819
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Kamurocho is a bustling part of the Shinjuku Prefecture. Any Elite that's heard Majima on the radio has heard him tell the stories. You'd think people would be cowering in the streets from the wild, constant gangs of hooligans and yakuza constantly storming around looking for a fight. They're not. There are people everywhere, happily using the vending machines, making their way to their jobs, making their purchases at the local vendors. One might almost mistake the place for being peaceful. It's a bright day outside. The 'recommended route' leaves N'raha standing at an intersection reading 'Tenkaichi St', with a sizable neon gate resembling a Doman torii. Cars drive past, but very few enter the roads of Kamurocho themselves. This is very much a pedestrian city. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's been to all of the Big Cities in Eorzea. Ul'dah, Limsa, Gridania.     This outsines them all. Tokyo is just... a crush of people. And even if Limsa was crowded on Market Day, this is... this is slightly overwhemling.     His ears pin back a bit as he gets through the checkpoints at the Warp Gate, looking up a bit at the torii as he passes through. Gone is the rustic tunic or the glitzy full plate, and in their place was the crisp, Tataru-tailored green suit he favored when having to do Offworld Business Stuff.     Even if this place does not at ALL look like it's about Business. Hnnnnnrrm. The Catman picks a direction, spurred on by the smell of food and starts to move. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Food is the easiest thing to find in the city. It's a straight line that passes by a bar, in fact. The sign says 'SERENA' on it, but...well, the front door is locked. From the scuff marks on the door, and the mild disrepair of the sign, it seems like it's been closed for quite some time. Unfortunate. The first available option is a glass-walled building on his left. Shelves of small bags and peculiar bottles of colored...who knows, populate the inside of a store called, apparently, 'Poppo's.' The distinct smell of breaded calamari, however, lures from a block further. However, just at the intersection, a group of men in cheap suits seem to be angrily discussing something. "This 'Multiverse' shit pisses me off," One declares. "Why'd the government let this happen! Now we're gonna get invaded by aliens or some shit." His friend rubs his head. "...This shit again, Tanaka? They didn't 'let it happen'. Fuckin' universe just works like this. Now shut up. Look, you wanna get pounded by some crazy ass guy in full armor with a laser gun or some shit because you wanna be an idiot?" The third man with them, in a cheap suit, notices N'Raha, patting the first guy on the back. "Look. Look, some cat asshole. He's gotta be from offworld, right? We could just pound him, send a -message-." "Yeah! A message!" There's some knuckle-cracking, before the three start to advance on the Mi'qote. "HEY! YOU!" They call. Outrun them? Break their spirits? That's up to the Warrior of Light. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Hoooooooo... calamari. Raha is always in the mood to try out other people's recipes for things he makes himself. Being a Culinarian isn't just about MAKING food, it's also about Enjoying Food. And he's just about to head down that alley way...     When he hears that discussion and spots the trio of Fellas. Well. Majima DID warn him, now didn't he? Raha can easily just slack off and try and defuse this situation, but as the three men approach, he just sort of stands his ground.     That said, he's not a Tall Fellow. Though those ears do stick straight up, and his tail fluffs out in a bristle brush. "...Something the matter, fellas?" He adjusts his tie. "I'm just trying to find some lunch here..." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''      "...you ain't gonna be eatin' much with a broken jaw, buddy." The crowds of people notice the impending fight, and...er...helpfully disperse. Like a human fence. It was a smooth transition, the Mi'qote's chance for retreat cut off almost seamlessly, as the three men start to spread out. One pulls out a wooden katana from somewhere. The other one has something sparking. The third one has nothing. GOONS The unarmed man goes first, lunging in to throw an excruciatingly clumsy punch to N'raha's face. "Kamurocho ain't just some playground for aliens, punk!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's response to that clumsy punch is to slip out of the way with a frankly feline grace, and step back clear two or three steps. The weapons get a LOOK from the catman, as he sighs. "Really? Here? Fellas, please, you think I'm not coming here empty handed myself. I was /warned/."     And as he speaks he holds out his hand and conjures up... well. Usually it would be Bravura, but he really doesn't need to be carrying his full on Relic weapon here, now does he? Instead, it's a... uh.     It's a fireman's axe, that's as big as he is. And he effortlessly flips it around to rest on his shoulder, and drops down into a defensive stance. "Wanna try that again?" 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     N'raha was warned, and warned rightly. The man stumbles past him, looking strangely shocked, as if this is the first time this week that has happened to him. Next up is the man in the wooden katana, who does not seem nearly as intimidated by the sizable fireman's axe as one would believe. "...What, you expect me to think you can actually use that fuckin' thing? It's way too big," He says. He's not -as- incompetent as the first man, but he's certainly no samurai. He's not even holding the katana right. Still, he makes for a decent overhand swing--though the real problem is the unarmed guy's coming back around to try to suckerpunch Raha while he's distracted. Numbers do seem to be the key to success, when it comes to idiot goons in Kamurocho. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha shifts to catch that bokken with the blade of the axe, and twists in place to try and lever it out of the man's hands, before getting punched in the back of the head by the other man.     For most people this would be a cause for alarm, getting hit like that. Only, not so much for Raha. He takes the head and rocks right back, a rather... disturbing aura starting to grow from him.     He speaks again, only this time the words are practically purred, with a lion's rumble coming from the catman's chest. "Last warning, friends." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     The 'disturbing aura' does not seem to faze them one bit. In fact, there's a super faint red one around the unarmed guy, now that he's got a single hit in. He's rocking it! Yeah! He is in the -zone-. "'fore what, you make an even better punching bag?" The unarmed one says, starting to hop about a little. Yeah! He is absolutely ready to go here, and he's rearing forward to deliver his absolute best haymaker directly to Raha's face. The third man with the Katana's just sort of watching. It's convenient the way they mostly take turns. That leaves only the guy with the stun-gun, who looks left. Looks right, and then lunges forward to try to nail Raha with that sweet, sweet debilitating electricity. Seriously, the thing looks like it might fall apart any minute, but it's still a reasonable danger while it works. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha Tia can take plenty. He's stood toe to toe with Gods. Allagan machinations sublime and profane. Terros out of time and space.     The haymaker lands on the catman, twisting his upper body with t force of the blow and it looks like Raha might stagger...     But no, he takes a step, which turns into a STOMP, and his own aura EXPLODES, as he turns on his Wrath. The axe comes around, low and fast, to clip Mr. Punchguy off his feet, and then whips around once more to crash downwards into the the guy with the flat os the axe's blade. THUMP.     HE SHOCKER hits and Raha twitches a bit, his jacket clinking oddly as he's debuffed. His eyes FLARE, and he simply shoulder rushes the guy in the direction of the nearest wall. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' The level of violence does not seem to be shocking anyone in the crowd. Mr. Punchguy Tanaka does not, by any means, seem dextrous enough to do anything about this mess. He's smashed into the ground, groaning and...simply laying there uselessly. The man with the taser seems shocked as N'raha doesn't even fall to the ground, looking a little bit panicked, but it's far too late for him. He's smashed into the wall, landing...well. On one knee, but he doesn't look too interested in getting up. He's holding his stomach with one hand, the stungun long dropped. That leaves the man with the wooden katana, who has just seen his friends dropped like flies by an insanely powerful offworld with a giant axe and an aura of pure malice and wrath. It would seem to be an excellent time to retreat. The man does absolutely no such thing, raising his sword above his head to try to deliver a overhand strike, running across the ten or so foot distance between the two combatants while yelling loudly. It's like they almost don't even have self-preservation instincts. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Those fluffy ears flick, the black haired cat turning in place as he hears the other man approach. Yes, things without self preservation is something that Raha is frankly used to at this point.     That overhead strike sweeps in and Raha just steps into it, face to shoulder with the WOODMAN, and he jams his axe handle straight into the man's stomach, looking to knock the wind out of him... probably for the rest of the day. "Take a REST, fella." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     And he's out, stumbling back and landing flat on his ass. A bottle falls out of his pockets while he falls, rolling over to N'Raha's feet. It's some sort of rejuvenating potion, from the label, called 'Toughness ZZ'. The crowd, noticing the fight has ended, wordlessly resumes their day. Noone's calling the cops. Noone's...even commenting on it. The entertainment has ended, apparently, and there's only some mild bitching and grumbling from the men he's just effortlessly dispatched. On the upside, it seems like the man with the stungun lost some cash. It's not a huge amount, but N'raha's economic talent is enough to determine it probably just paid for lunch, so there's that. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     That's that. There's not enough of a reason for a victory fanfare on this one, is there? The hustle and bustle and the mood of the day goes immediately back to Crass Capitalism and Gross Excess, and Raha polices up his winnings from the fallen fools. The Axe flashes back into motes of magic, and the catman counts out his winnings...     A flick of his ears at a passing pretty girl, because he can't help himself, and then he's back off in search of his calamari prize. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' N'raha's earflick gets sort of a confused, but appreciative smile from the girl. Strange, exotic catmen with axes, and other Kamurocho oddities, apparently. At any rate, turning the corner leads to Gindaco Highball. The restaurant serves right from the streetside, a man offering a variety of seafoods and other local delights. Takoyaki, Cheese and Spicy Fish Roe, Sour Cream Fries, Deep Fried Octopus, as well as a variety of alcoholic beverages to choose from. And it's while perusing the menu that there's a clap of leather on leather. "Eh, I see ya fit in just fine, eh?" Majima says, cracking his knuckles. The snakeskin-jacketed madman makes his order, coming away with a plate of what is called 'Octopus & Avocado with Yuzu Pepper' and a tall beer. "Saw the whole thing, Raha-chan. Ya might even make it across the city like that." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Let's be clear, street food ANYWHERE is full of 'fried stuff on a stick' and this place is no exception. It's the takoyaki that he's been smelling, apparently, and Raha steps right up with his fistful of ill-gotten new money to buy lunch.     That said he looks up, and up and up at Majima as he approaches, and laughs. He's used to hyurs and human towering over him here. He's worked with Highlanders from Ala Mihgo for too long not to be used to it. "Oh! Ahoy up there. And thanks, I guess. Those fellas just had a need to fight SOMETHING I guess and they picked me. Soooooo now I have their cash." A shrug and the catman calls for a full plate of takoyaki, his tail fluffing out excitedly.     Oh. Right. Then he properly looks to Majima and with... well. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a business card, and flicks it up to Majima. Not fully proper Japanese style, but at least he did partial homework. Sadly, the writing on the card is in Eorzean. "The internets said I should get you one of these when I meet you." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' "Nehehe. I tell ya guys, and it's like ya always think I'm kidding. If ya go two blocks north, I betcha got the same problem with some other punks. Half this town's lookin' ta get their faces punched in, I swear." Majima takes a long drink of his beer, only putting his food away to take the card. In both hands. Even Majima respectfully puts the business card away in a holder, offering Raha one of his own. It's...made out of engraved steel. That's kind of crazy, but also it's Majima, why would he *not* have a business card you could beat a man with if you so chose? "Probably the one thing I do like 'bout this place. Ain't nobody runnin' chickenshit just cause they ain't sure they got an easy mark." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh. two hands. Raha catches that, and recieves it back in both hands, even bowing as best he can while still looking up at Majima. A difficult motion. That done, he slides the yakuza's card into his vest pocket and then settles in on one of the chairs outside the stall. "Foolish, but amusing at least." His Takoyaki arrives, and Raha takes all the consideration one has to take with Hot Balls of Stuff, and crams one directly into his mouth, doing the reverse blowing afterwards to cool off. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Majima cackles. "Nehehe. Yeah, ya ain't usually got an issue, it's more of a hassle than anythin'. Specially if things're going crazy, which...y'know. Happens every so often. Ya never know. Maybe the Millenium Tower'll blow up again, ya know?" He says, not giving a wink to the camera or anything. "So what, ya just out here ta get a snack, Raha-chan?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It takes a moment or two for Raha to properly swallow his first bite, and then he smiles. "Something like that. I mean... well." His tail flicks. "I'm also on the look out for stuff for my partner. She's a nice lady and I figured there might be a gift or two I could get her while I scoped out this place."     The 'scoped out' is given a bit more emphasis than Right might have wanted. He's not the most subtle creature. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro ...considers that a moment. "Yeah, I heard ya kinda a lady's man, eh? Arright." He taps a finger between his eyes a few times, concentrating a moment. "There's a place a few blocks from here, sells a bunch of import jewellery, watches, fine fur coats and crap," He says, "...Might be somethin' /real/ offbeat in the Ebisu Pawn Shop, if that's ya thing..." He looks around a little. "...and if ya looking to, ah, scope out, there's a couple clubs in town we could go hit up." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh. OH. "Oh not the second one, not quite so much like that." Raha's ears flick against his head. "I'm trying something new for... well. For me. And for my sorts of people. Just the one lady, and I'm happy with her." A soft smile at that. "So, something for HER while I uh... scoped out the other sorts of situations, honestly. Not like... lady situations."     Are the insides of his ears pink? Maybe a little. Raha hides his embarassment with another whole ball of Takoyaki. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro cackles, grabbing a long drink of his beer. Good stuff, y'know. Good stuff. "Arright. Watches and fur coats it is," He says. "Tell ya what. Let's go work off some o' this crap at the batting cages, and then I'll help ya get somethin' for ya girl, eh?" He winks, with his one eye, which really just ends up looking like an ordinary blink, when you get down to it. Maybe more of a knowing glance involved. "Less ya' wanna wander 'round town on ya own. I ain't ya babysitter." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     HEY COUSIN!     Wait, wrong series. Raha winks back and nods, tail flicking less axiously. "I mean, I didnt' expect you to babysit, but uh... batting cages sounds exciting. What do they do at these cages? W-w-" He racks his brain, ears fluffing out. "Oh! Sports! Yes! I can do batting. I'm not the best at it, but I can do sports. The Balls and Hitting is a lot more finicky than cracking boudlers with an axe, that's for sure." He stops before they make their move, though, and picks up a few skewers of grilled eel before they go. Mmmmmm. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro leads the Mi'qote north through the city. "Heheh! Well. Ya got Theatre Square on the left there." The word 'SEGA' in large letters denotes one of the local arcades on the corner. N'raha can definitely see a few shifty looking high schoolers, one with a pompadour, loitering about suspiciously. One even lights a cigarette. "Place ain't so bad. There's a nightclub in there. Maybe take ya girl, huh?" He nudges the man with an elbow, before his phone rings. "...What? ...ya ran out? Well go back to that fuckin' S-Mart place and buy more, I'm busy." He pauses a moment. "...Then take Minami with ya, if ya that worried. I ain't holdin' ya hand every time ya need a trip to the bathroom, dumbass." He clicks the phone away, pulling out a cigarette instead. "Don't ya adventurer types normally go 'bout in bands of three or four or somethin'? That's what I usually saw goin' round that Limsa Lasagna place." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Miqo laughs at Majima's dealings with... whoever that is, and grins. "Oh, gods, I know that feeling. I've got more than a few people I have to handle. Thankfully I am not the Actual Boss of the Scions. We've got one of those and she's been subdued lately." He leans so that Majima can see a little pearl and a loop of braided, padded wire that rests near the base of one of his ears. "Only ours run by magic." A beat. "Though I can't say I know what makes phones tick so they might be magic too."     As they come up on the Sports Venue, raha looks up and up, and smiles. "Amazing that they've got something this big for practicing sports. We've got the Bloodsands in Ul'dah."     Majima's question jostles him a bit, though. "Oh? Sometimes. I mean, other adventurers do. There's a sort of formula that people have found that works pretty well for most situations." He holds up his hand, and ticks fingers. "One person to handle getting hit by stuff, that's me. One person who deals with keeping everyone upright, that'd be Inga. And then two people to handle most of the killin'." A grin. "For the most part, that's the people who join us on an ad hoc basis." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro flicks a lighter, taking a drag of his smoke as they walk. The tobacco stick dangles between two gloves fingers, as he leads the Mi'qote into the batting cages. There's a small clump of arcade machines, and four separate screen doors. "Ya said ya ain't any good at this shit, so let's go for the beginner class," He says, paying the attendant and letting N'Raha see the wonder of, uh, mini-games. It's a faux grass field, and a large fenced in box, with a distant machine what spits baseballs on command. There's a rack of bats, and then...a screen. The screen has readouts that have large boxes that say things like 'home run', and '1 run', and the like. "...Huh. Not gonna lie, I ain't heard o' havin' some guy whose job is ta get hit by shit. Fuckin' weird, but sure." He shrugs. He reaches for a bat, walking up to the 'plate' to demonstrate how the machine works, tapping on the activator hidden beneath the white pentagon. A moment, before a 'thp' of a ball being shot out, and the crack as Majima swings. "HOME RUN!" The cheery voice calls, the screen turning into a flash of lights. "...but eh, if it works for ya." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman laughs a bit as he spots the room and the activites therein, his tail swishing. "Oh, an amusement room! We have something like this in Eorzea, the Gold Saucer Casino! You ought to come see it sometime! It's run by the Syndicate, and helps pay for the Resistance in Ala Mihgo, or so i'm lead to believe."     Bless your heart, Mr. Manderville.     As Majima steps up to the plate, Raha moves to the one next to him, watching Goro's stance and swing and method. He then squares up, taps the plate, gets a ball and- WHIFF. He's swinging too hard. "Oh? Well that's because most of the people who are going to be doin' the killing aren't wearing the sorts of armor I wear." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' "...Yeah, I won't pretend I understand the armor bullshit, either." He shrugs, both hands out as he takes his turn. -CRACK- It's entirely likely he has a lot of practice. And, y'know, with one eye, he's probably learned to adjust for the lack of depth perception enough that it's practically a benefit. "Shit, ya guys had a casino hidden there this whole time? Yeah, I'm down. Busy this weekend, but..." -CRACK- "...Nehehe. If it's casinos ya want, though, we got a few. Depends if ya lookin' for the traditional games or more Western card games." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It's Raha's turn and he steps up, calls for a ball, and swings- and there's a CRACK and a CRACK as Raha first hits the ball, and then the bat breaks, and the ball goes skidding off into the cages somewhere. Raha reflexively ducks to avoid wooden shards and then... sheepishly coughs. "Okay, not... not the full swing, then."     He huffs and then moves to get another bat, putting the rest of his FIGHT MONEY down on the counter as he does so to replace the bat. "Hmmmrpf. I'm no good at Triple Triad, so I usually do stuff like the tower climbing or other stuff. The Moogle's Paw game is pretty fun!"     Multiversal shananigans make 'Moogle's Paw' sound pretty much like UFO Catcher to Majima. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima's eye widens. "...Yeah, that happens from time ta time with the older bats. Even happens in professional play. Don't get ya panties in a bunch, eh?" There's a dismissive hand wave. "...Huh. Those games, eh? I always got people wantin' me to get 'em specific dolls outta there. I swear, every idiot in this town promises their girlfriend some shit they ain't ever gonna claw outta those things." He exaggeratedly sighs, shaking his head. -CRACK- "Ain't sure what the fuck Triple Triad is, but there's some kinda hobo casino in onna these abandoned buildin's. More of the traditional kinda dice shit ya expect ta see, y'know?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oooooooo goes Raha, as he settles back in, and then takes a swing. Much less 'use your aura' and more 'just swing like a muggle', and this time the ball goes forward, though not into one of the required squares. Damn. He switches off again, and then shuffles over to find another one of his eel skewers, taking a bite of the now sticky, lukewarm snack. "Mmmmph. So good. Hmmmph. Triad is sort of a collector's game, you get cards with pictures of things or people on them, and you have to put them down in a grid, and there's numbers on the edges, and if the card you put down has higher numbers than the cards next to it, you capture that space. Most spaces at the end wins."     Oh no, it's one of those games, Goro. An ACHIEVEMENT game. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' "...Huh. Yeah, arright, I know how that shit goes," Majima replies. "There was a, uh, similar arcade game that was kinda popular a year back, 'bout girls dressed up like insects," He says. "Wasn't my shit or nothin', but I know Kiryu-chan fell over himself for it. Who the fuck knows why, with that guy, eh?" Another swing. This one...barely doesn't hit home run. Just barely. But this is one of those things Majima practices a fair amount, it seems. "Nah, only collectin' thing I do right now is Pocket Circuit Fighter, cause those slot cars are fuckin' great." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha steps back and plants his bat on the shelf again, apparently done. "Oh. Idols? We've had that come round Eorzea too. Uh, Songbirds, I think. Pretty girls singing songs for big groups of people. Had lots of fans. I helped them out and got some fancy sticks to cheer with. For free even!" He nods decicively, and then settles in to finish his eel...     And regard Majima with a discerning eye. "...Has Prince Zenos said anything to you about his plans for the Alliance or Eorzea?"     Oh ho. The real questions now. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Mjima stretches out a little. "Nehehhe. If ya like idol girls, this is definitely a good place, eh?" He continues to listen, until suddenly Raha decides to talk shop. He tilts his head. The bat's dropped, and he pulls out a cigarette. He lights up. Takes a breath. "...Even if I toldja, how wouldja know he ain't fed me a line of bullshit?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman's eyes close tight and he grunts. "Because, the prince does not seem to be the sort of person to 'lie'." He points with his eel stick, and then gesticulates a bit. "Half truths, maybe but..." A grumble. "I've dealt with his kind before and he doesn't seem to be a clinger or toadie. No no. Men like that come right at you with everything they've got." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''      Majima nods a couple of times. "...Well." He puts his cigarette out on the wall. "...I got a rule 'bout this shit, Raha-chan." He lets the crumpled remains of his smoke lightly fall to the ground, slowly reaching for another bat. He closes his eye for a moment, before stepping into the middle of the batting cage. "See, I like Zenos. He's got a style I can respect. No bullshit. He knocked me flat on my ass, we had dinner. Almost a romantic type, ya know? Nehehehe!" He leans backwards, knees bent as he starts to almost cackle. "...So if I'm gonna tattle tale on him, it's gotta be for some guy who can sweep me off my feet the same way, don'tcha think, kitty?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha sighs and hangs his head. "Yeah I figured it would be something like that." He doesn't sound mad though, he just looks back up and takes his last bite of eel, before wrapping up those sticks with the napkins. "I can't blame you for that stance, now can I?"     He leans back against the netting of the cage and swishes his tail, though there's just a bit of a bristle there at 'kitty'. "I figured I'd ask, though, Since we don't really have a whole lot to go with on him." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Majima kind of awkwardly pauses there, having /absolutely/ expected that to turn into combat. Frankly, he looks almost disappointed, shrugging a bit. "...Eh, the guy's pretty clear what he's about. I'm sure ya gonna figger it out anyway, eh?" He slides the bat back into its cage, almost reluctantly. "Well, anyway, any other critical intel ya tryin' to get outta me?" 
}}

6723/Summer Cookout ft. The Watch and Co.

2019-12-18T14:11:07Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/07/12 |Location=Raha's House, The Mist |Synopsis=Raha hosts a little get together with the Watch |Cast of Characters=819, 6399, 6, 994 |pretty..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/07/12
|Location=Raha's House, The Mist
|Synopsis=Raha hosts a little get together with the Watch
|Cast of Characters=819, 6399, 6, 994
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Welcome to The Mist. It's a coastal city out on the edge of Limsa Lominsa, one of the three largest cities in Eorzea. It's a place for Free Companies and Notable Heroes to find a place to live, to stake their claim on the world and take part in the fine tradition of Home Ownership. And it's here that the Party Is Taking Place.      If you want the big, big, big parties, you're going to have to go other places this weekend. While it's a Friday Night and the parties are really just getting started among some of the bigger Free Companies at the bigger houses out in the Mist? The party that's down on the shoreline outside of Plot 21 is much smaller in comparison. There's a bonfire out on the beach, as is customary. There's tents and awnings posted up for people to sit under, and there's also a catering table laid out. Yes, an actual food line with actual food for people. Like it's a party. There's also a squad of fellow Eorzeans manning the party, as it were. If 'squad' means 'two'. There's a tall, very tall human looking lady, and a small stout person. The tall lady is wearing a comfy looking piece of army wear, the sort of thing a sniper might have. Like, a modern sniper. The little lady appears to be the one in charge of the food. She's got a chef's outfit on, and a little burner and stove behind the food line.     The Host of the night is posted up at the stairs down to the beach, and is looking pretty comfy in a very open summer shirt and beach shorts. A far cry from any sort of business wear you might have seen him wearing in the past.     Welcome to the Shifting Shore, Raha's home. 

:'''{{#var:6399|Penelope Vasquez (6399)}} has posed:'''     Some ways out of town, the quiet puttering of electric motorcycle rises, then falls off, as one Penelope Vasquez enters the general area. She is... not dressed for the season, wearing a heavy black coat, but looks comfortable regardless. It's parked and stashed some way out of town, and the cargo on the back is fetched dutifully; namely, a big bag full of to-go plates of falafel, and a cooler of brewskis. It's time to P-A-R-T. Why? Because she gotta.     The city is explored sparingly; only enough to ask for directions to the right party, one of many, evidently. But soon enough, she finds N'Raha, posted at the top of the stairs, and grins down at the spread below. "...wow. This is pretty damn nice looking for a not-too-much prep thing, omae. The last time I got to go to a big beach bonfire thing I was... fourteen, maybe? Gonna be a good night." A heft of her bag, fragrant cooked meat smells wafting from within. "I got the goods. The goat down there?" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe would be mistaken by most for an Elezen, she was over siz feet tall, pointy ears and all she knew it was a party tonight and down by the shore too, so she didn't come in full plate or any sort of kit she was expecting. She's got a tank top and shorts on, and seme to be in good spirit as she comes up on the beach just looking over what N'Raha has set up. "Geeze you really went all out on this didn't you Raha?" She asks after a moment turns to Penelope as she arrives. "Hey there the name's Tomoe good go meet you. I think it might be something close the wild life around here's pretty diffent oddly though Dodos are a thing..." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' As usual Athela's arrival is heralded by the clomp clomp of hooves as she rides up to the shore. Just not on the majestic equestrian steed some would expect to see a knight upon. It's just a big goat, with a scruffy coat that looks as much as a bush's foliage as it does hair. And horns that have an odd curve in them that make them very much appear like handlebars, and indeed what the young woman is holding onto to steer the Gogoat in lieu of bridle and bindings. ... Okay, so a goat is less of a weird mount when one considers some of the other creatures ridden in Eorzea. The beast of burden clomps right up to where Raha waits before finally stopping with a gruff snort. Athela swings a leg over and slips nimbly off the opposite side. "Good eve, my friends!" She grabs the saddlebags off the Gogoat's back and slings them over a shoulder. "And I doth not come without contribution of my own. Additions to the festivity from my home shores." Meaning she's probably brought stuff like that fish jerky she's fond of travelling with, again. Yes, you can totally make jerky from fish. It's a tricky process, but its possible, and a family tradition. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Greetings are now underway, and Raha smiles at his guests show up. "Inga would be here but she's got a thing going on tonight. She might make an appearance later."     Penny gets a wink and a flick of his hair, before he nods down to the beach. Set your stuff up down there, just don't knock over Memeshi's set up. She's particular." There's a small, clear voice from the tent, as the Lalafel in question calls out. "Goats down here, whoever is looking for it. We've got it in the pans already!" The little lady grins up at the outlanders.     Tomoe gets a bow, and a smile. "Sure did. Look at it this way, it's a chance to show off and meet cute girls, what can I say?" A devilish grin. Raha, you cad. You've got one girlfriend already.     The smell of fish jerky wakes the Miqo'te up, though, that's for sure, and his tail flicks upward as Athela arrives... "Oy... catfish or carp this time?" He fairly scampers over to check up with the Knight.     Down below, the spread is looking fairly decent for short notice. Roast goat onna stick, and taters and veggies on sticks and some sort of rice pudding or risotto, and several large jugs of beverages. There's orange colored beverage and red colored beverage. Pick your poison. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Carp, mainly," Athela replies to Raha as she starts down the indicated way. "As well as some seabiscuits and dried fruit. Other than using Ice pokemon sailing ships have little means of preserving foodstuff on long voyages, so most foods are dried or preserved with salt and spices."     She pauses to set the saddlebags by the tables with the other food items, and starts unpacking to add to the rest. "Choose your drinks first," she advises, giving a nod to Penelope and Tomoe. "You'll want to dip the biscuits before biting them, or they are incredibly tough to chew." 

:'''{{#var:6399|Penelope Vasquez (6399)}} has posed:'''     Penelope gives the catboy a grin right back, fluffing her coat to make it flap, cutting a sharper figure- the other attendees get easy smiles, the woman innately comfortable thanks to the presence of food, apparently. She heads downstairs to her first target; the food. Namely, the goat skewers. They stand no chance. Her bag of heated chickpea wrap-things is deposited in trade. She's too busy inhaling the meat like it's her first meal in weeks to compliment the tiny chef, but her raw eagerness is likely compliments enough. She eyes the jugs dubiously when she finally comes up for air, considering them heavily- before just reaching into her coolar and pulling out an opaque brown bottle full of some fragrantly hoppy liquid. Long sip- a beer is also tossed towards the military-looking woman, as well as to the chef.     Her nose switches as the goat-rider enters the fray, and she finishes off the last strips from her stick to clear her plate, metaphorically speaking. Her expression is one of mixed curiosity and mild revulsion as she catches wind of Athela's own bags, and the fish jerky within them. A siiiiidle to the woman, beer-first, bottle offered enthusiastically, eyes cutting from face to bag. "Heya. I'm Penny. Do- did you bring fish?" Her advice is noted, evidently- she doesn't wait for a response before fishing out a biscuit, doing some mental math, before simply pouring some beer onto the dough to moisten it up before gnawing. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "Oh really thank you for the compliment." she'll take it and pauses "Oh that sounds interesting." She eyes the spread she's going to eat very well today and she's going to enjoy it. She'll accept biscuits and make note of that. "Sounds like a type of cookie from my world where it's so hard you need to dip it in your coffee or you might break a tooth but it's so good." Note with a grin to Athela for a moment then back to Penelope and she makes like her going for some of the food as to go with the biscuits she just got as well and she seems to love seafood. "Fishing can do a lot to pay the bills I find and damn the market around here is hungry for it. I could flip some of the fish back home and make some serious money." She's already digging into the food now and clearly enjoying it. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Miss Memeshi takes the beer bottle and sniffs it a bit, before putting it aside next to the rest of the beverages. "Thank you, but I don't drink while I'm cooking! When I'm done, maybe." She helpfully shuffles the lids to the food trays open, the little flames under them keeping the food nice and warm.     Raha, for his part, just grins as the girls all dig in in various amounts. Though no one's touchin' the drinks. He slides down and gets a glass of the Red Juice, which, when decanted, has a decidedly citrus scent to it. Lime and sweet and rum-y. Mmmmm. "So, right. Welcome to the first meeting of the 'There Was Too Much Politics and Philosophy on the Radio' Club. My Name is Raha." He points a falaffel over to the tall lady. "That's Sgt. Bitters. She's here to make sure people ain't sneaking up on us, and also to look stylish in a uniform."     The tall lady snaps off a salute, before tromping herself up towards the top of the stairs to the beach and posting up where Raha was, a magitek looking gun at her hip. Hmmmm.     The Warrior of Light settles in. "I guess first order of business is to introduce our newest member, Miss Penny here." He waves to Penelope, and smiles. 

:'''{{#var:6399|Penelope Vasquez (6399)}} has posed:'''     Penny smiles right back! Waving with her biscuit-hand. "Hi, as he said, I'm Penny. Penelope." Speech between monches or sips- as Raha pours himself some Red Drank, the black-clad woman does the same, her beer already dead and gone. "I'm not /new/ new, I- was around for a while, then took a big unplanned vacation. But I forgot most of the politics and whatever so I'm basically new." An easy smile, the woman kicking back as she leans against the buffet table. "Either way, very nice to actually meet someone outside of the radio chatter. Multiple someones." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Yes." Athela nods to Penny, and hands her some of the dried cod jerky to try. "Contrary to what many people seem to think, there are non-Pokemon fish to be caught in Bayern's oceans." What else would they eat? Really. Pokemon wouldn't be so mysterious and magical if they were the only animals, either. "Agreed, Raha, agreed. I... am not one for politics. Prefer dealing with foes I can put sword to and sweep away in the callings of the tides." Athela takes one of the goat meat skewers. "I see goat is popular in your sailing communities as well. Much easier to care for on a voyage than cattle, amongst other things." Followed by taking a bite out of it, chewing thoughtfully, and then nodding to Memeshi approvingly. "Cooked to perfection I dare say." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Lalafel smiles up at Athela, and gives a thumbs up. "That's because it's hard to louse up goat as long as you cook it low and slow and keep it moist. No one wants tough goat." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe hasn't got to the drinks just yet and she laughs at N'Raha's comment. "Tell me about it." She'll grab a drink of her own and just seems to be enjoying herself and she looks to Penny for a moment. "Good to meet you, Penny. I agree I just keep running face-first into them as much as I try to avoid them." She notes and now she thinks for a moment about the goat and laughs. 

:'''{{#var:6399|Penelope Vasquez (6399)}} has posed:'''     Penelope nods her agreement with the teeny chef. "Mmhm. Over-tough meat is awful. Dunno about goat especially, but in general. Nice and blue is good." She's acquired another stick of goat, at some point. The food is just kinda evaporating in a radius around her as the night goes on. The fish jerky was also consumed dutifully, even if it's a bit... fishy. Literally, not metaphorically, it was entirely legit fish.     Penny has also been evaporating alcohol at a... decent rate. At least a little lightheaded by now. A slightly lopsided grin Athela's way as she sizes her up, before loosing a soft 'hm,' question posed... extremely generally. Not even directed at any particular person. "So- what's all of your deals? Y'know, your thing, your, your, uh." A couple snaps, before she brightens, snatching the idea while it still exists. "Your- what you do!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha grins a bit, and futzes with his collar. "Right, so I really didn't have any sort of real agenda for tonight and I know the uh." A glance at Penny as she asks a good question.     And an honest answer as he looks to Tomoe and Athela. "I kill gods. Like, the physical manefestations of them, anyways. It's a real problem here in Eorzea. People summoning their gods and then those gods stick around and suck the magic out of the world trying to maintain their presence, while ALSO being giant problems and... it's a problem, and I fix that problem. Along with friends and others." A smile. "Here in Eorzea, we call ourselves the Scions of the Seventh Dawn." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "A goat has a less picky diet than cattle, and unlike cows both males and females can produce milk. When the goat can either no longer produce, or there is no means of feeding it left..." Athela just shrugs and holds up her skewer, before taking another bite out of it. "They also take up less room." Then nods over her shoulder to where her mount has just set himself, unbothered that the others are eating non-pokemon versions of goat meat. He tends to be unbothered in general. Athela takes a cluster of leaves and berries out of a saddlebag, and tosses it over for him to graze on. "Here Brushguard, you should at least feast a little as well." Athela turns her attention back to the group at Penelope's question. "As fate or irony would have it my lot is much the same as our Warrior of Light here. Bayern is plagued by a cult of the fallen gods of an era past, and their abominations of false life used to pursue their masters' entropic vision." A hand raises to her chest in indication of herself. "I am the Champion of Keldeo, one of the quartet of divine Legendaries known as the Swords of Justice. But whereas the chosen of Terrakion, Verizion and Cobalion defend specific regions, I am a knight errant, free to roam as I am needed between worlds, the same as rivers and waterways unite many lands and oft form the bounderies that protect them." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "My story huh? It all started with a game, that turned into death game where if you died your brain got fried." She sits down with her food and keeps going. "Take a bunch of people most who'd never used a real weapon in their lives and put them into that sort of situation I was lucky to get out alive from it with help from the multiverse then the game followed us home so to speak. People one day woke up being able to transform into their primary avatar and then the games started fusing with our world in the aftermath of the great multiversal barf as I call it." "Since then I just been wandering from world to world doing what I can where I can. While trying to keep things from going too nuts with a cardinal AI more or less goddess of our world." "At this point and I still work with a band of survivors from the Death Game whom I help to run a guild with known as the Gate Crasher's Union. If you wondering this is more my face than anything I was before, I won't' function in the life I had before, I tried to go back and it didn't work for me anymore. So ya I used to be the sort that would be ignored by most elites or stepped on by them." 

:'''{{#var:6399|Penelope Vasquez (6399)}} has posed:'''     Between long, assessing stares at her comrades and glances at the surroundings, Penelope seems to simply be taking it in- slightly sobered, perhaps, by her comrade's rather dire occupations and pronouncements. She chews on the inside of a lip as she considers her own response. And chews on another of Athela's biscuits, dunked heavily in Orange Drink.      "...I suppose if I want to be flowery about it, I'm a ronin. Sword sans master. Raised as one, worked as one for ages working for one corp, then jumped to another, now I'm leashless." A little snicker as she tugs at her collar, letting the irony sit as the fluid in the nodules slishes. "I do dirty work where I can get it and stick it to the corpie overlords while I'm doing it when I can, which feels like it's doing good. Keep my neck of the woods out of ganger hands. It's a fluid living." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha sighs at Penelope's explanation of herself. "Twelves, what I wouldn't do to go back to not being beholden to the Grand Companies, but well." He scritches his bare chest a bit, and gestures with his beverage. "The problem is if you try to fight Primals here in Eorzea, unless you're an Elite or have something called the Echo that shows up here, those Primals will brain wash you. Just." he snaps his fingers. "No recorse, no cure, you're theirs. Forever." He sighs and slumps in his chair, taking a bit of his falafel again, and talkin with a full mouth. "So that's why I like having all you folks around. Keeps me honest and alive, because Thal knows what sort of nonsense I'd be dealing with doing this on my own." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Not unlike the Hollowed," Athela nods solemnly to N'Raha. "It still.. amazes me how our worlds are very different, yet we seem to be up against problems almost similar in ways." She tilts her head a little at Penelope's explaination. "So you are similar to I then. You follow your own cause rather than sworn to a house of nobility. Or this... corp as you called it." 

:'''{{#var:6399|Penelope Vasquez (6399)}} has posed:'''     Penelope nods, rather emphatically, at Athela's comparison! "Ex-actly like that. In my neck of the woods, corps are a lot like old mideval houses. They control their land, they control their servants, they war against eachother, they bicker, they run shit open-face or by proxy... and the commoners get dumped on. I work interhouse and loosen the screws where I can to topple. Not that, well. That goes very well on a grand scheme level, but, y'know." Her energy has rather petered off, and her little speech is finished with a drink. And a scowl Raha's way. A rather intense scowl, really. "...let me assume here. This Grand Company is the only one with the resources to make these echo things so old gods can't brainwash you? And they only hand it out to people who work for them?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A grin from Raha. "Worse. You're gifted it by the Goddess Hydaelyn herself. So who knows who has the Echo or not until you either DON'T get brain washed, or you start seeing visions of things you're not supposed to know." He shrugs, and shuffles up to get some of Athela's biscuits and some Orange Beverage which upon further review is definitely a giant batch of mimosa.     A shrug. "Only a precious few have that, and those who have it and CAN fight are often called the Warriors of Light. Which I am. a few others have passed through but I'm the only one here now." His ears wilt a bit. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe takes note of Penny's take between her bites of food, the big lady is clearly loving this food. She pauses "Hey your boss lady at least came to see you fight you know." She grins a bit having not forgotten the admiral did attend their match after all. "Though I have to admit there's a reason I told the Paladin's recruiter to sod off and I'm glad I did. Sounds like you do what you can, there's a reason the story of the wandering Knight or Samurai seems to be out there across so many worlds." She grins a little more. "It seems in the end we all have a lot in common it's just how we got started differs." 

:'''{{#var:6399|Penelope Vasquez (6399)}} has posed:''' Penelope lightens up a little bit as Raha elaborates- it's only a god randonly tossing out powers, not corporate collusion. She jostles a little, standing up- swaying, slightly. She has quaffed a heroic amount of alcohol by this point; not intentionally, probably, it seems she just never actually stopped having a drink in her hand. "Oh, that's not so bad. I mean, it's bad. But it could be worse." A reaffirmed nod as she straightens her clothes- and reaches into her coat, pulling a short blade from her back! Nonthreateningly. More using it to gesture pointedly. "A single person bein' shit can be fixed!" Jabs! At the sky. Perhaps vaguely at the stairs. "I owe you one for makin' all this spread put together. Let's go harass this Hydeylyn 'til she forks over the magic!"     And with that, she's walking towards the stairs. She hasn't even looked behind to see if her compatriots are following. Some short while into the distance, she asks the empty air, "Where is she, anyway?" 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Erozea has no shortage of problems for your fellow Warriors to deal with. But take comfort in knowing you need not fight your battles alone." Athela pauses to finally grab some Red Juice and wash down what she's been eating before continuing. "You have the Scions, and you have us." The redhead nods to Tomoe. "Those differences are good though. Variety is much more suitable for a party of adventurers." And then she has to really, REALLY resist facepalming at Penelope. Just going to assume that's from how much she's drank. "I... do not think it works that way." Athela quietly decides to herself that mayhaps this is not a good time to mention the sort of blessings she gets from her own patron. Just to be safe. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     At the top of the stairs though, Sgt. Bitters spots Penny stalking up towards her position with a knife and casts a glance down at the party. They hadn't started with the broken bottles yet, what gives?     The tall lady oys a bit, and turns to hold out her hand to Miss Vasquez. "Woah woah, don't want the Yellowjackets spotting you drunk and disorderly. Just... ah."     Raha calls up the stairs. "Penny, it's okay! Mother Crystal really doesn't exist in our plane of existance, as it were. If she did, that would be... awkward. She's very large. She's as large as this star." 

:'''{{#var:6399|Penelope Vasquez (6399)}} has posed:'''     The drunken woman at the top of the stairs looses a long, theatric "Booooooooo," as Raha calls up and further explains the issues associated with threatening to shank a god. The tiny sword/large knife is stashed away again, and she just flops herself down into the sand near the bonfire. "Well, that's lame. I was excited for that." She, for once, isn't reaching for food- maybe on some base level she knows she's sloshed, and is trying to let it sit a bit. A prop of her elbows into the grit to push herself up, pulling off her coat to reveal the leotard underneath as the fire starts to heat her. "There goes the evening's entertainment. What do you do for fun around here then, Raha? Aside from gather hot chicas 'round the fireside." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe pauses for a moment "We should worry about the ones who are causing problems. From everything, N'raha has told us she's very much trusts in her creations from what I have seen. I'm okay with that honestly and heavens that's big." She notes she doesn't get up to move however and she looks to Athelna then to N'Raha. "I'd be dead without outsider help and a lot of others. So I like to pass the gil as you might put it, forward." She thinks for a moment. "The more time I travel the more I think I understand something about my own world." She watches Raha go to deal with Penny. "We could go swimming, I like going flying around here it's just so pretty from above." She goes back to her original though. "We dreamed so much of worlds like this it drove one man to try and do so by force, we have no magic, nothing like this world has and we're utterly alone as a species. Honestly It's just nice to know we're not alone even with all the trouble it brings." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore's expression goes from worried that Penny was going to do something brash and reckless, to just confused in general. She looks to Raha and Tomoe, mouthing a near silent "Hot chicas?". Even with the time spent in the Multiverse it's not a phrase she's heard. Though after she shrugs a little at the mention of swimming, smiling. "We could. Though I have a distinct advantage in that department, so no diving contests." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:''' Penny asks her question, and her answer is met by someone who isn't Raha.     There's a commontion down the beach near the large communal square near the docks, where one of the large free companies is out there likewise having a party. A group of people in robes and what are clearly wizard hats are out on the beach, poking and prodding a large crate, fuses and fire dripping from the sides.     And then the fireworks start. Actual fireworks. Though, these are clearly magical fireworks, alchemy with thaumaturgy thrown in for good measure. Gandalf eat your heart out, cause there's fountains and displays and rockets and a whole bunch of symbols of the local guilds out over the ocean.     Raha looks up and grins. "...We go take our stuff and crash other parties of more interesting people." A little flash of fangs and he nods, starting to head down the beach. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe whispers back "Slang for good looking ladies." She'll get up and grab some more of the food she'll pause to thank the other two who likely helped out with the party before she gets up to follow. "Might as well get to know the Neighbours right? Come on let us get this party on the move!" She also pause to see the fireworks and whips out a smart phone to take a few photos as she goes. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' The answer actually makes Athela blush a little around the cheeks. Until she coughs softly into a fist. "I have been complimented on many things, but.. appearances is not one of them." Fortunately the fireworks and what not are a blessed intervention. "That sounds like a fine notion." She gets to her feet, grabbing her saddlebags as she does so, and putting some of the food she'd brought back into them. "Let us share the pleasantries of the night." 
}}

6647/FATE: There Might Be Giants

2019-12-18T14:09:15Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/06/20 |Location=Vesper Bay, Eorzea |Synopsis=Adventurers help the Scions of the Seventh Dawn put down a rampaging giant. Also, Haseo has a mee..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/06/20
|Location=Vesper Bay, Eorzea
|Synopsis=Adventurers help the Scions of the Seventh Dawn put down a rampaging giant. Also, Haseo has a meeting with an Ascian. He doesn't like it.
|Cast of Characters=819, 7045, 525, 6, 7015, 6994, 42
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     FATE: There Might Be Giants     TYPE: Notorious Monster     Location: Western Thanalan - The Footfalls     Threat Level: High     Tonight's mission alert is actually coming from the Scions of the Seventh Dawn themselves, of all people. Something in the cave network north of Vesper Bay is up and active and has the people in a tizzy. Something about Giants, but those don't usually come to this part of Eorzea, right? Right?     But there's no Aetheryte to get here, so most people will have to either hop a ride from Horizon or take the ferry from Limsa Lominsa. Weird that a town this size doesn't have warp access. Hmmm.     For his part, N'Raha is posted up at a town gate just north of the city, a camp nearby buzzing with activity, and occasional spellfire as a pair of casters of some sort seem to be hurling spells down a freshly smashed cavern tunnel. 

:'''{{#var:7045|Atoli (7045)}} has posed:'''     EARLIER:     You have received a party invite from Atoli.     You have received a party invite from Atoli.     You have received a party invite from Atoli.     Short-Mail from Atoli: HASEO! Real giants! :)     You have received a party invite from Atoli.     Short-Mail from Atoli: Haseo come on! It's a notice from people who want help! I bet it gives a lot of experience. :)     You have received a party invite from Atoli.     NOW:     It has probably taken a fair bit of time for Atoli (and her +1) to find the right way, especially if they had to stop several times on the way to deal with RANDOM ENCOUNTERS. But eventually she does arrive at the northern town gate, and immediatly runs for N'Raha upon recognizing him.     "Hiiiiiii!!"     She's pointedly staring at his ears and tail.     "Oh gosh it's really true, look Haseo! A real cat person who isn't a game avatar! This place is really great!" Except the monsters, she could go without those. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is standing nearby Raha, leaning on her staff as she wonders if she should offer to take a turn slinging fire around. Nah, she'll save her energy. Likely she might need it. The witch is dressed in a light weight long blue skirt and a white t-shirt, her Thor's hammer pendant around her neck and her pouch and knife hanging from the brown leather belt around her waist. There another, small pouch that contains her runes, and several talismans that look to have been carved rather obviously from human finger bones and the skulls of birds. Despite what may be expected considering where she is from, Inga has never faced a giant before. Should be interesting. Provided no one gets smooshed. Inga looks to N'Raha. "Do try not to get smooshed," she cautions, before looking to the newcomers. Inga blinks, then smiles. "Good day," she greets. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe did not expect a call from the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, that got her attention, and the Salamander was quick to arrive, she's hunted several giant monsters before in her time so she had a level of confidence given the sort of crews that turned out. Tomoe skipped the ferry and just took to the skies to reach here she'll come in for a landing near N'Raha and Atoli. Her wings will vanish as she lands and she looks to Atoli. "Seems you are enjoying yourself Atoli, also Hello Inga, N'Raha I heard that there was a giant problem Got any intel for us?" She also looks to Inga with a grin. "Relax, N'Raha is someone I trust as much as my fellow Tanks in the Clearer Alliance and now the GU. If we have to play aggro ping pong I'll do so, if we lose someone then we have failed in our jobs as Tanks." 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      Party invite has timed out.      Party invite has timed out.      Haseo has accepted the party invite.      Haseo is already in your party.      Short-Mail from Haseo: Alright, alright! Stop with the invites already, I'm on my way.      Haseo should really just learn how to say NO' to stunts like this, but the prospect of giants is pretty appealing. Big enemies /do/ tend to give lots of EXP, after all. And just like that, the 'Terror of Death' is roped along.      Atoli points to the cat person, and Haseo just rolls his eyes.      "Pffft. It's really not that big a deal. I've seen vampires and ghosts at this point." 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' Meanwhile, Rean took the ferry from Limsa. The port city was bustling, and loud, but he was here to do a job. He heads north and arrives not long after Atoli and Haseo. "Nice to see you guys again." Rean says, giving everyone present a wave. He then pokes his head into the cave's opening, where there's people throwing spells and such deeper within. "Did they find it already,  or...?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     So this is where the Scions of the Seventh Dawn are based. Staren steps off the ferry looking a bit like a miniature space marine. A year or so ago, he experimented with redesigning his power armor for more, well, power. The result was a bit bigger and bulkier, but allowed for significantly more strength and armor. In the end, though, Staren decided it was too niche for most exploration and combat and the extra weight just felt 'off' and stopped using it.     Today, though: Giants and caves. More strength and protection is useful not only against their foes, but potentially for digging out of cave-ins. The caves can't be THAT narrow if giants are in them, after all.     Staren arrives at the gate. "Hey. Long time no see. And good to see you again." The voice is familiar even if the armor isn't. Also, it has a tail and ear-covering bumps in the helmet, so it's clear who it is even though his face is covered.     At Atoli's comment about N'Raha being a real cat person, Staren points out "Hey! I'm a real cat person! ...But I guess I was disguised when I met you, huh."     Staren looks to N'Raha. "So, what do we know about giants in Eorzea?" he asks, as he lumbers towards the tunnel casters are throwing spells into. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     As the Party Gathers Up, Raha starts greeting people, staying close to Inga as he does so. Haseo and Atoli get a smile or two, though Atoli will probably have ALSO seen Elfs, Potatoes and Lizard People too, so. At least Raha appreciated the enthusiasm. He adjusts his tie, the smart green jacket and shirt he's wearing looking oddly formal, given the situation. "Come on, it's not far, you've got to see this mess.     He nods his head towards the camp and The Breach, and leads the group. "It started this morning. Minfilia got a vision of something big and dark beating its way through the caverns, and well...     The camp, as it were, is hastily thrown together under a towering, jagged spire of corrupted Crystal, the massive amber/black structure towering over the landscape. Another gift from the Calamity.     In the camp, there stands another Catperson. Though in this case Cat-Lady is very appropriate. White haired and dusky skinned, the conjurer is busy tossing Aeros at big fat wobbly ghost potatoes that seem to be milling about the entrance to the cave, making a bother of themselves. The other young elf fellow, a glowing blue critter at his side chittering and hopping nervously. The cat lady speaks up first. "Raha, you brought help. Excellent. Pleasantries can wait for a bit, we've heard it stomping around farther in. Some of the Braves are in there working on clearing out any workers." She nods to Inga, at least and give her a smile.     The young elf, however, seems to think it's very important to at least introduce himself. "Hello, I'm Auphinaud of the Scions. We'll have words with you all after this!"     Raha sighs, and shakes his head, looking from Rean to Tomoe to Staren in his weird magitek armor. "Ready?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     In they go! "Braves? Workers?" Staren echoes. "Pleased to meet you. Staren, Hand of the Concord." He replies to Alphinaud, then pulls the rifle off his back and answers Raha, "Yes, I'm ready." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga blinks again, then narrows her eyes slightly as if trying to decipher a foreign language. "I only understand about half of the words you said," she replies to Tomoe, but waves it off. She's sure she understands at least in the vaguest of terms. Tomoe and Raha are the 'get the big monster's attention so it doesn't smoosh those less able to handle it' club. Shaking her head, she smiles to the newcomers who seem to also understand what Tomoe is talking about..."Vampires and ghosts too hmm? Met any witches yet?" she asks with a smile. Then Staren arrives in his...space suit thingy and Inga's smile grows. Another friendly neighborhood catman! "Staren, glad to see you will be joining us." Back to matters at hand, Inga follows Raha toward where Alphinaud and Y'shtola having been keeping things under control until the reinforcements arrived. She smiles and nods to them both. "Very well, we will speak later," she said. "I've brought more of that tea you liked," she mentions to Alphinaud. Inga then nods to Raha. "One moment," she says, then pulls the knife from her belt and uses the sharp blade to slice into her arm. Each person in the group gets a blood-ward from Inga before they continue, a shimmering aura of crimson and gold. Like protect and regen combined. 

:'''{{#var:7045|Atoli (7045)}} has posed:'''     "Ghosts? Vampires? Oh! That's right, the one who was throwing the parties, right?" Atoli recalls, and still expects Haseo to come to the next one.     "Yeah! Hiiii!" She replies to Rean, Tomoe and Staren, in no particular order but with a wide smile and a polite bow. Too bad N'Raha pushes this along so quickly, there's almost no time to say hi!     With Staren and Y'shtola, that's THREE cat people!     Too bad Atoli has more attention for the towering spire of very pretty crystal than she does for anything else. "Oh, look! That looks so pretty! Do you think we could get closer to that? Take a few pictures?"     Oh, people are... more new people are cycling in.     "I'm Atoli of Moon Tree! It's nice to meet you all."     She looks at N'Raha and nods. "Sure, I'm ready!" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe sees the group is gathering up quite nicely she take heed of the Scion though getting this isn't your typical deal with monsters job or it might lead to something more. She takes note of caster cat lady for a moment. 5R "Glad to be here to help and we can talk after Auphinaud." She notes with the Braves handling things they should be good to go to focus on the Giants. "I'm ready here." Out comes Tomoe's sword and board and she'll move to fall in front. "Atoli? Inga, you'll be focusing on the healing right?" She's admittedly curious to see how Haseo and Atoli work in a fight. She'll start moving ahead the moment N'Raha does and makes ready with her own abilities as she's expecting quite the fight. 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      "I'm not here to stick around and chat, I'm here to kill the monster and claim my prize. So can we skip the dialogue and get straight to the actual job already? "      Haseo, being Haseo. Is pretty rude to Alphinaud. He just wants to kill monsters and get stronger, that's it. He's not interested in anything else at the moment.      He kind of wishes he could just hit start or something and skip all the text, but real life doesn't work like that. 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' As it turns out, the spellcasters are friends of Raha's, and they'd discuss something with all of them later.  "Got it." Rean says, drawing his sword. He then sighs at Haseo continuing to be Haseo. At least Inga's Crest / Earth Pulse combo thingy would serve some use. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren turns to Haseo. "You can't just skip through all the dialogue, it's important. Unless your HUD is somehow generating a quest log based on the environment and telling you where to go and what the objective is, if so I want to study how it works." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The white haired cat lady smiles and then helpfully wiggles her ears at Atoli, even as Raha pulls an ax the size of himself out of the aether and starts talking for the caverns. There's fighting inside, swords and shields and sporadic gunfire and a spell.     Floating globs of goo start to burble out of the caves, flickering out into the dusk of the evening and slowly swarming the party. They let out ghostly wails and start letting out blasts of negative energy, sapping the strength of anyone foolish enough to stay close to them. That's got to be putting a damper on the efforts to get to the big thing that's making the louder noises in the cave.     The little goobers seem very insistent on making it towards any spell casters in the group, and also Staren's weird magitek thing, they like that too. Lots of tasty energy there. Mmmmmm. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "These aren't giants!" Staren protests as floating... goo... attacks and comes after him. He fires his laser rifle at it and keeps backing away, trying to stay out of range of the negative energy blasts. "Why is it after /me/?!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's gaze turns toward Haseo when he is rude. "Do not be disrespectful," she warns. To Tomoe, she nods. "Mmm, I will handle that when it is needed," she assures her. Inga stays close to Raha, as they are well practiced in working together by now. "Well, those are going to be annoying," she says, but begins by raising her staff, her voice beginning a musical incantation, balls of fire flying toward the floating goo, as it seems very intent on her. 

:'''{{#var:7045|Atoli (7045)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah! I'm not great at fighting, but I can handle the healing just fine!" Atoli answers Tomoe, nodding firmly. And then in concert with Inga, turns to Haseo to say: "Haseo! Be nice to new friends!"     No, nevermind that, Atoli's being targetted already! By... that's not giants at all, Staren is right! That's just... disgusting slime!     She, of course, seeks cover behind someone. Probably Haseo! Maybe Staren or Tomoe, if Haseo is already being EDGY and dashing ahead to FITE.     "C-Cover me please, I'll buff us!"     Atoli raises her staff, and spreads a blue-white light across the party. It's a very standard STR UP spell. Doesn't get better than that. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has no idea what these strange things are? She does see they are going for the back line though and she'll leap into action leaping into the thickest group of them and letting loose with a mixture of sword attack and shield slams. "Hey you discount disco balls on me!" She calls out She'll do her best to keep them tied up thankfully with not one but two healers today she's confident they can bust through the thing and get to the giant, Tomoe will move to cover Atoli for the moment trusting in N'Raah to keep Inga clear while she enjoys the buff she just got cast upon her. She'll try to press the attack on the goopy ghost thins even harder now. 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' And then the freaky blob ghosts appear. He dashes in, swinging his sword at the ghost blobs's wings as they continue to chase after Staren and the others. Maybe he could slow their advance....or just get knocked to the ground by the energy waves. That happens too. "Agh...These things don't fuse together, right?" He asks. 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      "What? No. It doesn't work like that. Kind of wish it did, though." Haseo answers Staren's question and purposely avoided responding to anyone who is up to his rudeness. Because at this point it's just kind of second nature for him to tune people out like this.      When finally confronted with the so be 'giants', Haseo just sort of spits on the ground in annoyance "What a joke. Well, whatever I guess."      It's a bit too late to turn back now, so he might as well contribute to cleaning up some small fry. Haseo reaches behind his waist with both hands, a blinding flash of yellow appearing as he pulls out a pair of daggers.      Or at least, he holds them like daggers. They really don't look like anything a sane person would call a weapon. The 'blades' begin to vibrate, and Haseo dashes forward as he aims to cut down the strange goo-like ghost accosting Atoli.      Because protecting the healer is important, you see. Not because he has any feelings for people in the slightest. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And as the group quickly discovers, there's... not really much to these things at all, if you can land some good hit on them. Staren's laser rifle perforates one and... it sort of deflates like a balloon, all the aether let out of it at once.     Though there's a little pang of feedback, at least for some people. Anyone who's either psychic or has seer-y oracle nonsense going on will get a brief flash of someone's life, each and every time one of the Gobys falls to a blade or spell or something. Raha even stops midswing on one to slap a hand over an eye, grunting. "Hnnnggggg hate fighting ashkiiiiinnnnnn..."     From deeper in the cave, though, there's a roar. And stomping. And a crash. Three people in dusty blue and white armor who are not ghosts come edging back around a bend in the cave. The tallest one, a towering human carrying a sword and shield calls out. "Raha! Thought that was you. Bringing you... a FRIEND!" He cheers a bit, and then he and two lalafell break off contact and run through the ghosts to lead out-     Oh. Yeah. That's a giant. The towering Thing is wearing a great burning headpiece, wielding a hammer that's larger than anyone in the party, even Staren's mechsuit, and flanked by grody looking bug-rock things that sort of shove past the ghosts and into the large clearing in front of the camp.     Raha looks to Tomoe, shrugs, and then charges the Giant. 

:'''{{#var:7045|Atoli (7045)}} has posed:'''     It's a very good thing Atoli isn't a psychic, because she's not mentally equipped to deal with that sort of feedback! Phew, that's a bullet dodged right there. Sure is. Yep. Yeeeeeep.     It's okay, her smile refuses to waver in any way, so she's totally fine. She's just clutching her staff a bit harder, don't worry about that.     "O-Oh, there's the giant! Look Haseo, it's like a Field Boss!" The flames are pretty intimidating, though.     Deep breath, Atoli. Gotta be useful. Gotta TRY.     "Rue Kruz!"     Her staff swings, and a jet of water lashes out of it, travelling along the ground in the form of a RED CIRCLE until it reaches the Giant. It then bursts into a pillar of magical water, trying to hurt it, while trying to put out that fiery hat! Or make it less scary, at least. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren rolled nothing for psionics at chargen, so after puncturing the first one with a laser shot he goes on the offensive, agressively popping more, clueless to the effect on others. Well, until N'Raha physically reacts. "You okay there, man?"     And then the boss is here! Or something. When the armored man says he's bringing 'a friend', Staren takes aim, waiting for something to come around the bend... and lets the giant have it with a three-pulse burst!     When the adds come out, though... "I'll keep this one off you! Have it down in a moment, I hope..." He puts the rifle away and moves himself in between one of the giant rock-bugs and N'Raha. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The strange floating monsters are taken out and she looks over to N'Raha for a moment. Bringing you a friend? Oh god, Tomoe knows what that means, does she ver she looks back to Raha and then is charging right after him. She will attempt to barrel into the giant that is inbound in a full-on rush aiming to strike with her blade as the impact point she'll pull around regardless of what happen and start making shots, for the giant's calves it's nasty but with how big it is? The Giant has to be stopped and she does wonder what did set the giants off from the fact he has combat kit, it's clear they are not mindless. She has no time to worry about it longer. She's got allies and friends to keep safe so she can't focus on thinking, either way, the Giant's a threat and she doubts they will be able to end this peacefully. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' The white haired woman looks toward Atoli. "Ah, you know the healing magics as well? Excellent. That will save me some blood," she comments. There's an awful lot of talk going on that she doesn't understand. It likely has something to do with 'video games' and so Inga will just let it go in through one ear and out the other. Whenever she pops one of those ghosts she winces visibly and hesitates before being able to continue. The psychic feedback is something she is used to dealing with though, and it doesn't slow her down too long. "Yes, that is /quite/ inconvennient!" she agrees with Raha. She's almost glad when a giant comes charging toward them. What a day. Inga remains toward the back and raises her staff, the runes along it's length lighting up with a hot blue glow before discharging a bolt of lightning aimed square at the charging giant's chest. 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' Rean is also not psychic, thought he also gets the 'sense' that something massive is coming...if the roar, and footsteps didn't already tip him off. Some people run by, including a man who was a giant in a more normal sense (though the two with him might've thought otherwise, they were so short.) And then the /actual/ giant showed up, swinging its axe and such. He dashes towards the cluster of rock creatures, aiming to hit them as he passes by them in a flurry of strikes. 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      "This many reinforcements is cheating. Heh, but then again... I'm not any better."      Haseo stops dealing with the strange goo-like creatures, stowing away his weapons as he hunches over, a single hand grasping onto his face as if in pain.      "Come on, /COME ON/! I'm... right here..." Various red glyphs appear around the black clad rogue at this point, and the area surrounding him because unbelievable tense.      "SKEITH!!!"      A flash of light engulfs the Haseo, and the place where He once stood is replaced with a towering, lanky behemoth. It pauses for a bit, looking at its hands to affirm that it indeed IS, before bellowing out a roar.      In a flash, it begins disappearing and reappearing across the battlefield, closing the distance between it and the giant before its right in front of the giant.      Winding its arm back, it delivers an earth shattering punch directly into the monster's face in an attempt to send it reeling. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Atoli's water blast slaps past the Giant, and into a pack of the angry rock bugs, knocking two of them over like turtles, their little slimy tentacle legs wiggling in the air, trying to find purchase. One of them scrunches up what substitutes for its face and explodes, sending shards of rock and metal into the area, peppering...     Tomoe and Raha. The Catman doesn't have much of a shield to work with, being just an axe man, but as the shards tear into his jacket, there's a clicking noise under the fabric. Oh. Armored clothing. He side steps a SWIPE from that axe, and kicks the giant square in the gut, trying to open it up for other attacks.     One two three come the laser blasts for Staren, peppering the giant and scorching at it's helmet and flesh. Whatever sort of face it's got under there is a twisted, horrible reflection of human. No sense trying to get a closer look.     Raen's got the right of things though, as he steps in to start flicking the rock bugs in the face or other soft bits, sending the Coblyns scattering away from him like some steel dervish.     Haseo, though, Summons himself .Oh. There's more than a little noise from the assembled Eorzeans at this trickery. Someone's getting a talking to after this. Not that anyone warned Haseo of 'don't act like an Allagan, friend'.     Crier Briareos seems to take all of this as a challenge though, and a meaty hand comes up to catch at Haseo's fist, the punch wrenching at the giant's body, but giving him enough motion and leverage to- He swings back that hammer like a 100 tons of metal and prepares to STRIKE. 

:'''{{#var:7045|Atoli (7045)}} has posed:'''     "Yeah! I'm a Harvest Cleric, so it's my job to support people!" Atoli nods to Inga. Dang, the Giant is faster than expected though! She readies another spell and--     Never fires it.     That... tone. It's that TONE again.     And then Haseo's...     Atoli shakes her head. No, she can't see any of that. She's just a regular player! Regular players don't see that. It's okay.     "Hold on, everyone!"     When bugs explode and send shards of rock and metal everywhere, Atoli throws her staff up, shining a bright white light. It's a damage shield! It'll dampen the impacts from those rocks and let people focus on offensive counters more easily.     Haseo gets a slightly stronger one in prepration for that TELEGRAPHED BOSS SWING. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Harvest cleric? Which gods do you serve?" she asks, switching from throwing elemental based attacks back to her knife to draw a new wound, as the one she'd opened earlier to give everyone wards has already closed. She was just about ready to make with the healing magic, but it seems like Atoli has it covered and that perhaps she should focus on the slaying. "Impressive shield!" she calls to the girl. As the blood is already flowing, she may as well use it. A flick of her knife and the blood from her wound flows straight from her veins to fly toward the giant in a focuses strike--aimed for the eye slit in it's helmet. Now, blood in ones eyes is not fun. Blood that also seems to be /acid/ decidedly less so. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' what the same hell is this Skeith thing that Haseo calls out and summons she stares for a moment distracted from fighting. Haseo has pulled some serious aggro from this giant and she's not sure if she can intercept him in time. Also, the tone she hears has left her unsettled there was something unnatural about it. As Atoli pops her own defence buff Tomoe does the same on Haseo popping a party-wide defence buff which should help with that, while she barrels into the giant again she's done what she can for Haseo and she has to worry about the party. "We need to bring this guy down! FAST!" 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      Oh. It can fight back. Well, that's no real concern, he can just follow up with another punch- Wait, that's a giant axe coming his way. Well, shit. At least they're buffed?      Skeith is sent flying back from the force of the giant's hit. Pieces of the creature's 'texture' and 'model' break off as well, causing the massive creature to produce a static flicker.      He's not about to let himself fly back forever though. Placing its arms high above its head, it summons a staff-like object which it proceeds to slam into the ground to stop its acceleration. It works, to an extent, though it runs dangerously close to flying directly into Atoli. Skeith pauses for a moment, its head drooping as it takes a moment to revert to how it was prior, before returning its attention back Crier Briareos.      "D-Damn you! Now I'm mad!"      Skeith pulls its 'staff' from the ground, a pink segmented blade now sprouting from the end to reveal that it was in fact, a scythe, before vanishing around the battlefield again.      Haseo's method of attack this time is a bit more thought out, instead appearing behind the massive giant as it attempts to bring its scythe down on it. 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' Those rocks are done, Now to move onto the next group. But first, Haseo (figuratively) explodes.  Rean looks away from the fight with the giant and returns his focus to slicing the heck out of the crystals.  Not the first time he's seen Haseo do /that,/ but it's just as unsettling as last time. At least he's not trying to murder a door this time.  He might've misjudged exactly /what/ that was though. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Bugs explode! Hooray for Inga's ward! The situation rapidly gets more chaotic, and then... Haseo is gone, and this... thing is here. Staren turns and raises his arm at it reflexively, but then it charges the giant. Oh.     Well, it seems that paying any attention to the bugs so that they could focus on the giant was a bad idea, the bugs just keep coming. Very well.     Thrusters fire, wings manifest and buzz, and Staren takes to the air to get away from the bugs, and holds his hands out towards the giant. A half-dozen miniature anti-tank missiles launch from his forearms, airbursting neat the giant to try and pierce it with lances of high-energy physics.     "Why is there even a giant here, anyway?!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     POCKET SAND MEET ACID BLOOD! HOOAH! The Acid Blood, in fact, is not fun. Not in the slightest. It scorches at the Crier, and melts that helmet of his a little bit. OUCH.     Tomoe pops her buff and does Atoli, Which is good because that MILLION TONZE SWING comes around and clips past both of the other tanks, and swats Haseo right in the digidata.     The beast ROOOOAAAARS as Raha makes another move to kick at the damn thing in the knees, aiming to break its leg or snap it off or something. Anything to take this thing down a notch.     Staren flies up and handles the coblyns, and it's Y'shtola that answers his question. "Monster and beastmen activity has been picking up and we're still trying to determine why. We have... our suspects though." There's a grim tone to that as she raises up her staff, and casts a wide area healing spell that washes over the party, keeping them upright.     he giant wheels in place as Haseo LEAPS behind him, teleports and swipes at the thing with that giant scythe. And if there's one thing that critters around here don't handle well, it's hackers. I mean, people cheating themselves into things that they shouldn't be into HASEO. The swipe drops the giant to its knees, and it staggers around a bit, trying to find... something, anything to fight, to swing at. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' So many healers about, and they don't even have to bleed for it. She almost feels put out! But she can still put her blood to good use. Her acid blood melts her helmet a bit, presenting an even better opening at his head. A spear through the face will generally bring down most things. Inga draws more blood out of her wound, the liquid pooling in the air to form a long, thin spear, wickedly sharp and charged with anima. She waits and aims carefully, then with a flick her wrist sends the blood-spear flying to impale the giant through the face, if possible. 

:'''{{#var:7045|Atoli (7045)}} has posed:'''     Skeith almost rams into Atoli!     She flinches, but luckily, Haseo stops his flight just in time. And then Atoli does her best to ignore that entirely. It's for the best.     It sounds like Haseo wants to finish it off. Atoli takes the moment to look at Inga, wondering how best to say it. "U-Um, well... all the gods in The World are dead, except for Folset, the God of Law. But humans don't serve him, so... I guess none?"     She seems apologetic.     With another twirl of her staff, Atoli lets loose balls of white and green light, which seek out injured party members and restore a bit of their vitality. It's great for landing finishing blows when you're not injured anymore!     Or maybe she's just trying to avoid stepping out of the back row. That Giant has entirely too mean a swing for her tastes. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     He's mine.     ...Yeah, sure. A good chance to observe the combat capabilities of this thing Haseo can summon / turn into.     Back to focusing on the coblins, Staren supposes. As with most of his armors, the heavy armor has a pair of particle beam cannons on the right arm, and Staren puts them to use, firing down at the rock-bugs and and then dropping out of the sky to put the armor's strength to work, landing heavily on a coblin and punching and kicking! 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      "That's it! That's it, that's it, that's it!"      Haseo seems to be extremely pleased with itself, reveling in how the giant is now on its knees. Its attempt to retaliate are met with Skeith raising its scythe to block the assault, the weapon being knocked from its hand and sent flying into the battlefield. It's okay though, they don't need it anymore. Grabbing on to Crier Briareos' face with one hand, Skeith raises the Giant slightly off the ground. Several large holographic panels erupt from around the arm that's currently gripping onto their face as the sound of something charging fills the air.      "Heh."      No real witty one liners, no complaining, Haseo just sneers before Skeith fires a pointblank DATA DRAIN directly into the giant's face.      The monster probably feels a lot of things from the attack. A lot of negative things. Sleep, paralysis, poison, the whole works. They also probably feel something FORCEFULLY being removed from them, which all things considered is probably a lot more concerning. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's coblyn's being shot.     Heals going out.     A Blood Spear in the face.     A raging catman chopping at the giant.     But then someone decides to eat the giant's essence.     Crier Briareos is spear'd, chopped'd and Beamed and a whole bunch of other things. He's already dead but hasn't figured it out yet.     Haseo/Skeith vanishes for a moment. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The Giant has almost been handled and it looks like he's not giving up, Hasseo seems like he has a plan to finish the giant and will only say "Just make it quick She will keep up on it and will move to act if Haseo doesn't finish the best off but it's clear she's standing there ready to go and is making sure he's interposed between the healers and the Giant. "You'll meet more than a few gods in the Greek sense running about, hell I knows one whose as big of a gaming nerd as anyone from ALO or The World likely is." Ah yes Arthur what could go wrong with pointing him at the world. She gets Staren is also watching what Haseo can do and Inga adds to finishing it off she seems ready for this to end one way or another. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "You are a cleric of...no one?" she asks. Very strange, but if all the gods are dead and only the god of law remains...well goodness, who could blame them? "I could tell you of my gods," she offers. "But not now." "...What...is he doing?" she asks, watching Haseo, her eyes widening. Then he vanishes? 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' Rean continues to ignore Haskeith having fun beating the shit out of that giant. Nope, definitely not feeling awkward watching that, no sir. And then he vanishes. Was that supposed to happen? 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Haseo is glitching out. He can feel his data corrupting from the inside out, the drain wrenching at parts of him that he didn't even know existed, ruining him forever.     Haseo floats in an endless wash of darkness, stars and lights flickering far in the distance, like he's drifting in the Void.     Haseo is watching himself Drain the Giant, watching the rest of the party as if in slow motion. He can do nothing but watch.     And right next to his ear, there's a calm, clear, strict woman's voice. "Tsk tsk. The Outworlders always surprising us. You were about to see something you're not supposed to see, Mr. Cheater." The source of the voice floats around in front of Haseo as he T-Poses. It's a woman, robed in black, wearing a mask shaped like a beast's face. "And we can't spoil the surprises just yet." She lightly traces a finger over Haseo's chin as he floats. "I do enjoy the Rules of your world, getting to seem them in a flicker like this. It reminds me that we realyl must get out more. See the Multiverse. Find our own friends. Bring our master closer."     She looks over her shoulder, and as she does so, Haseo is simultaneously in both places at once, seeing himself seeing himself watching the party. The woman spins to look at the Haseo draining the giant. "Tell the Sharlayan minx that we're watching. And waiting."     And then the link is severed, and severed severely enough that the fake-not fake second Naseo is snapped fully back into place with Actual Fake Haseo. And he can go right back to T-Posing and Dabbing on The Haters, logang 69 for life, dawg. 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      Haseo is brought back to his realm of existence after having an out of body experience, and almost immediately Skeith just disappears in a cloud of red particles.      Visible beads of sweat roll down the Adept Rogue's forehead as he tries to process what the /fuck/ just happened. He's never gotten that sort of response from using Data Drain before.      He just sort of falls on his ass and recites some of the things the masked person said.      "Sharlayan minx? Watching and waiting? What the...hell?"      He doesn't like this place much anymore. 

:'''{{#var:7045|Atoli (7045)}} has posed:'''     "Sure! And um... attacking the Giant?" She feigns at Inga, looking as Haseo uses a weird skill she hasn't seen before but then... vanishes? No, there he is again.     Atoli hurries to his side, looking down with concern at him. "Haseo! Are you okay? You killed that Giant and then fell down. Do you need a heal?" Yes, she's going to make him ask.     ^_^     But it's taking every (digital) muscle in her body to resist healing him anyway, because she's that kind of person. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:''' Haseo finishes the giant, well done! And then vanishes and is replaced by himself. Clearly that's just what happens when Haseo dismisses the effect, except nopw he's babbling.     Staren walks over. "What are you talking about?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha, for his part, totally misses the bit where Haseo vanished, because he was busy beating the shit out of the Giant, which... true form these days... dissolves into a roiling ugly mass of black aether, and boils away in the dying light of the sun.     And what's left behind is a icy jet black crystal, the size of a hand, that cracks and shatters when it hits the stony earth.     The big monster gone, the Bogys and the Coblyns take the hint, and retreat back into the dark of the caves. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' That was all very strange. Inga shakes her head and sheaths her knife, leaning on her staff to walk forward to be closer to the others. She checks everyone over for wounds, but the other healers seems to have taken care of anything serious. She looks toward Haseo. "You went somewhere." 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' The giant vanished in a puff of black smoke, not unlike how monsters on Rean's world vanished on defeat. All the other creatures scuttled deeper into the cave, their leader gone. As for Haseo, well...That definitely didn't happen last time. Haseo reverted to normal, but he was babbling and sweating, like he'd just come out of a nightmare. Rean sheathed his sword and moved closer to where Haseo was. "Yeah." He said, nodding. "Did something happen?" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe makes sure they haven't lost anyone once that's certain sh seem to calm back down and she'll pause as the monster flee and she peers at Haseo. "You okay man your speaking..." When Inga cuts in she takes notice. "Wait what happened then?" 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      "N-No. I'm fine. What the hell is this, twenty questions? Give me a moment, damnit." Despite looking like he's seen a ghost, Haseo just kind of brushes everyone off. Having finally collected himself, Haseo pulls himself off the ground, taking a moment to dust off his pants and butt cape before continuing on.      "I'm fine. Just got dragged off by some old hag that told me that I was about to peep at something I shouldn't of. Also something about a telling a Sharlayan minx that they're watching and waiting? Don't know what the hell a Sharlayan is, but if anyone here is one of those... Well, yeah. Anyway, I'm not about to do that again anytime soon. This place is stupid." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     'Sharlyan minx' gets said Sharlayan Minx to prick up her ears. Y'shtola slides over to the group, and kneels down next to Haseo, as Raha clears back and looks to Inga. A meaningful look.     The Conjurer's voice is clear and crisp. "What did she look like? Was she in black robes wearing a mask?" There's no judgement in Shtola's voice, even as Auphinaud and Illberd seem to be having a moment as well.     One of the Lalafell shuffles over to police up those broken shards, while the other seems to have found glow wands of some sort and has started waving them to clear out civilians from the area. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Is he always this unpleasant?" she asks Atoli casually, indicating Haseo, obviously. Inga sighs and meet's Raha's gaze, her lips thinning slightly. This means more trouble. Never a dull moment, certainly. 

:'''{{#var:7045|Atoli (7045)}} has posed:'''     "Well... he's a bit distant, but deep down he's a really nice person! He'd definitely help someone in need, I've seen it myself!" Haseo's handling of Bo was quite exceptional.     "It just takes a bit more digging to find the nice some days," she adds, beaming widely and laughing nervously. 

:'''{{#var:6994|Rean Schwarzer (6994)}} has posed:''' ...Well, at least he was doing ok enough to still be blunt as usual. Kind of reminded him of Jusis but a million times more informal. Atoli's comment didn't really help the comparison. Not really sure what else to say, Rean asks, "So, what are those crystals it dropped? Is that Nohval, or something else?" 

:'''{{#var:7015|Haseo (7015)}} has posed:'''      "Yeah. They were a real fashionista. Anyway, I'm done here. You got your answers and I got my kill. I'm getting the hell out before any more weird old women mess with me."      Haseo makes a disgruntled noise at Atoli's mentioning of him being nice before trotting off. There's a touch of anger in his steps, but he seems to be slightly less livid than when he first arrived.      Haseo has left the party.     Short-Mail from Haseo:The giant was a complete joke LOL!!! 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe looks for a moment as she tilts her head a bit and her shrugs a bit. "We might need to use a mining machine but I think we could find it, Atoli." She seems amused with this idea and will turn to the Raha for a moment and keep an eye on the crystals she's got a bad feeling about those things. Good, some of the local troops or adventures are keeping bystander clear of the darn things. She seems fairly relaxed that now the fight is over. "So there was something we were needed to be talked about? 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     So Haseo was given some kinda weird vision where someone told off the new cat lady.     Okay.     "Yeah." He answers Inga. "He's a teenager." 
}}

6646/FATE: Blood, Augur, Hex, Magicks

2019-12-18T14:08:09Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/06/12 |Location=Sagoli Desert, Eorzea |Synopsis=Offworlder Adventurers join Raha and Inga in putting down a rogue Beastman being powered by a..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/06/12
|Location=Sagoli Desert, Eorzea
|Synopsis=Offworlder Adventurers join Raha and Inga in putting down a rogue Beastman being powered by a Mysterious Source
|Cast of Characters=819, 906, 765, 525, 6
|pretty=yes
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{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     FATE: Blood, Augur, Hex, Magicks     TYPE: Notorious Monster     Location: Sagolii Desert     Threat Level: High     The Immortal Flames have pinpointed the whereabouts of one Blackbile Maladd Chah - an Amalj'aa hexweaver thought to be behind the assassinations of several high-ranking flame officials. Track down the terrible warlock and send him back to the Lifestream.     The gathering point for this particular quest is a rather busy village in Southern Thanalan. The Aetheryte is parked in the middle of a large group of stone and adobe houses settled inside an oasis that seems to spring water out of nowhere, but it's probably magic, one way or another.     The other notable thing about it is that it's a miqo'te settlement. While there are other races here among the adventurers and traders and all that, there's a rather large number of cat ladies of all heights and sorts milling about.     Moreso over by the station where the Immortal Flames are getting the caravan out to the Desert set up. Because sitting in the back of a cart, looking a little flummoxed by the attentions of some huntresses is one N'raha Tia, Warrior of Light. His black ears are slightly pinned back to his head, and he's holding polite conversation, even as one small miq-kitten is clinging to his head like a limpet. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang Xiao Long, Huntress, Adventurer, magic punchgirl, steps away from the Aetheryte as she materializes from the Warpgate network attached to it. "That... I will never get used to. AUughs." She shudders, then realizes the sun is so bright here. She whips out her aviators, and strides on over towards N'raha. "Hey catman. Nice hat." she quips with a grin, boots crunching the sand as she walks.     She's wearing a cowgirlesque outfit, a pair of long 'tails' hanging from her belt, with seemingly no other point than to look cool, and a tight jacket and trousers that cover more than her 'usual' outfit, they look a bit sturdier too. 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' Angry monster assailing notible militia figures with fiendish magics of a probably nefarious nature? Sounds right up their alley. This is exactly the sort of investigation/neutralization they signed up for in the first place. The flicker of aetheric energy from the central crystalline formation happens again, this time leaving the bespectacled young lady in its wake. And her canid companion, who stumbles a bit afterwards. "That feels weird when I'm not doing it," Gaonoir garuffs about the teleportation as he straightens out his bandana. Erika giggles a bit. "But this way allows you to conserve your energy for later." Then glances down at her mobile device. "This should be the right location according to the posting." She looks up again, and then points in the direction of the blonde bombshell that arrived just before them. "Look, it's Yang! I bet she's here for the same job... As it's kinda -her- job." "At least it's not a bunch of noobs then." As chipper as ever, darkmutt. He just trots after the more excitable of the pair. "Tell me when it's time to punch something." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga arrives via the aetheryte astride her mist-grey horse, dressed for the warmer weather of the desert in a white saree over a silvery choli, the long end of the elegantly draped fabric pulled up over her head to help protect her from the sun, her long white braid pulled over one shoulder. On her feet are a pair of sandles, though they look to be of sturdy leather at least. She remains mounted as she approaches the group, smiling lightly to Yang. "It is a strange sensation, isn't it?" she remarks, then looks toward N'raha. And the huntresses. And the kitten currently latched onto his head. She raises an eyebrow. It is the most baleful eyebrow raise in history. She turns her gaze then to the newcomer, nodding in greeting. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe gets the basic of the job someone's been taking out the local military officer and the Grand Company? Want the one behind it, taken out. She had been working on and off for the city-states here for some time so here she is once again signing up for this hit. Let us be honest, she has taken note of how many catgirls about it and she's rather glad Kirito is elsewhere given how he's handled the GU local cat girl and her tail. She'll march right up to N'Raha with a grin on her face. "Hey so you the contact for this? Not retired Gaonoir? I thought you had." She's clearly giving him flack right back and now Inga also has arrived and taken note of yang as well. She does not comment about the kid hanging ion to N'raha but you damn well bet her phone is out on a second and she's got a picture of it. "It seems we know eachother for the most part." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha turns to face the arrivals. The kitten clings to his face and hair and comes for the ride. That gets the attention of a number of the other huntresses as well. And 'huntresses' seems to be the correct word for this bunch. All of them are kitted up in one way or another. Most bear either the marks of either the Immortal Flames or a stylized goat. The eldest of the women, judging by the lines on her face, smiles to the others. "Oh. Raha. They did arrive. Good. Well, then I stand assured that this Hunt will go mostly as planned." A slight bow of her head, her silver tresses shifting.     Inga will likely be the first to notice that she's got he same green eyes as Raha, and that same smirk he usually has when he's not surrounded by... family. "I am N'saela, and you are all very welcome sights. But, come along. Up in the cart you come. Work to be done, beastmen to slay." She hoists down the back of the cart, and slaps the side.     Through all this, Raha is only slightly mobile, looking from Inga to Yang to Tomoe and the Not-An-Arcanist. "...Hi, this is my mom and some of my cousins and sisters."     ...oh. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang chuckles a bit at Raha. "Not a fan of family huh?" she jokes at the catman, clambering up onto the cart and reaching up to lightly poke the miqo'te kitten on Raha's face. "Hey little'un, we kinda need him to help us kill some evil monster." she says, trying to coax the young one off with a warm smile. She's had to coax little kids out from places they're not meant to be, since she had to help raise her little sister. "Nice to meet ya ma'am, I'm Yang Xiao Long, I'm a Huntress, but maybe a little different to the term you know." she shrugs. "Or maybe not... It's kinda weird, the Multivers." 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' Erika blinks a couple of times as the catwoman refers to the warrior with just Raha, while he names his mother with the N' prefix. Then tilts her head a little in thought. "Wait, the N isn't part of your name?" Someone can explain how Miqo'te clannames work. Preferable on the way. She does pause to bow briefly to the elder before climbing onto the cart. "My name is Erika. And that's my partner, Gaonoir." "Yo," is all the boxer (ha ha dog puns) has to add as he hops up after her. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "Oh your family? It's good to meet all of you I'm Tomoe the Iron Lily." She grins a bit now getting N'Raha was chilling out with his family and it was a mighty /big/ one too from the looks of it. Seeing Yang working with the kid she'll leave her to that. She will totally slip N'Raha a print of the picture later as well, she tilts her head a bit and she'll move to fall in with the rest. "So what can you tell us about the target and their abilities?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' The nature of that eyebrow raise somehow changes completely without much change in her expression, but once Raha's mother introduces herself, Inga slides somewhat awkwardly down from her saddle and returns the bow of her head. "It is a pleasure to meet you N'saela. I am Inga Freyjasdottir," she replies. She takes the walking stick from her saddle and moves to the cart. "I trust I may leave my horse in the care of your family?" she asks. "She is well behaved and should be no trouble." Inga looks back to N'raha, at once qpologetic and disbelieving. Some warning would have been nice. She'd have brought a hostess gift! Inga chuckles at the little one and Yang's attempt to get her to detach from Raha. Inga smiles. "Perhaps you would like to help take care of my horse? Would you like to feed her an apple?" she asks, reaching into her pouch to pull out a honeycrisp, offering it to the girl. The horses ears tilt forward, nostrils flaring in interest. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The little kitten has clearly been trained, because when Tomoe holds up the phone, she makes a face and mugs a big old smile for the camera.     Yanfg DISRUPTS HER SCENE though! The girl squawks and squirms a bit, her mismatched blue and red eyes screwing up in frustration as Yang plucks her from Raha's head and... well. A thankful looking Miq-lady takes her after that. "Noooo noooo!" A pout and the little one is about to sqabble, before Inga defuses things. Oh hey. A JOB. The little black haired girl squeaks and then takes the apple, holding it up over her head to the horse, which dutifully eats it and chuffs. This delights the little lady, and waves at the group. "Byyy unkle Raha..."     N'saela smiles a bit as a squad of Huntresses armed with spears, bows and one with a staff all square up around the cart. "Plesantries can hold for after you rid us of the Amaal'ja." A pointed look at Inga, and then the elder cat shuffles out of the way of the crowd. Oh.     The ride out is going to take a minute, and Raha seems to relax once he's away from the village. "Oh twelves, had I known they were all going to show up I'd have never taken this job. How did they find oooooooooout." 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' "Because family," Erika replies like a scholar reciting some astute fact. She even gives her glasses a slight nudge up with her index finger as she does so. Gaonoir just plops himself down in a corner of the cart. "The ride's appreciated. The more energy I conserve, the better for the fight to come." 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     "Your folks seem nice. You should have introduced us before now." says Yang as she waves to those staying behind while the cart pulls away. "Anyway, footnotes version, what's an Amyjam, and where does it hurt most to punch one?" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe gets a shot of some sort and is quite amused at how it plays out getting N'Raha's sister, she thinks that it's a younger sister of his, off his head. With Inga defusing, things seem to be well under way now she'll. She looks to N'Raha and notes "Same way my mother somehow knows I'm off and about adventuring. Still good to see meet your family!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga blinks, then nods. Once they are out of sight, she gives Raha a brief, wide-eyed look. "Yes, you certainly should have." She then shakes her head and turns her gaze to the landscape as is passes. "Well, I've gotten a bit of practice hunting down rogue wizards," she sighs, then simply holds onto the staff across her lap, idly tracing the runes carved into it's surface. Apparently, her regeneration must also work for sunburn, because with skin as pale as hers she should probably be pink already. Inga looks to Yang and Gaonoir. "They are one of what they call the beast tribes here...which I often wonder if said tribes are offended by...they are fairly large--" says the woman who is a whopping five feet tall. "But I assume you will not have too much trouble punching one, if you can get close enough. I will be here to heal your injuries and protect you from overwhelming harm," she explains. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha lets out a breath and then leans back against the cart. The vague warking of Chocobos is heard as they speed across the sands of the Sagolii. "Big tall lizard men. Angry. The lot we're facing are worshipers of Ifrit, so expect no quarter and no surrender. They literally cannot be saved." He seems to be insistent on that one. "The one we're after leads hunting parties out across the sands. And if my family's involved now, well."     Raha gets interrupted by someone reaching into the cart and ruffling his hair. The catman flails a bit and looks up as one of his sisters, apparently able to ride a chocobo and noogie him at the same time rides out and away, laughing as she takes off to scout.     Raha's ears droop more, and there's a sudden flash as his red armor appears around him in an instant.     He lowers his visor. 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' Erika has to put her hands over her mouth to keep from giggling too loudly as Raha's family treat him like, well, family. Though without something as distinct as the silver hair N'salea had it's hard to tell if the siblings are older or younger, even if the playful noogies would suggest the former. "Tall angry reptile men. Sounds like Darkizardmons almost." Gaonoir just snorts softly at the 'cannot be saved'. Not an unfamiliate circumstance for the former enforcer of Ygdrassil. He casts a sideling glance at the human girl sitting next to him in the cart. "What?" Erika replies. It takes a moment for her to realize the sort of look he's giving her. Her own expression turns a bit more solemn. "Needs of the many outweigh the few. More lives are saved by dealing with this problem straight forward... And it's already confirmed they can't be negotiated with." "Good girl." Gaonoir may be the canine, but he's the one to reach up and pat Erika on the head. "Maybe you can be trained after all." "Hey!" The moment of solemness is lost as Erika pouts at the role reversal. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe knows that name "Ifrit, go it." She seems to have some understanding of what they are dealing with it seems. She seems ready as she summons her own sword and shield and makes ready for a moment as she looks to Erika for a moment. "Wait that's not how it is suposed to work." She notes and turns her eye forward and her wings flare out too a bright red, but clearly translucent as she now hovers off the ground a bit. "I don't think they will expect an assault from the sky." IF no one stops her Tomoe will take off to get into a position to strike from on high, lifting off into the air. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang nods a bit. "Big lizard, punch it til it dies. Gotchya." She watches Erika and Gaonoir, chuckling at the role reversal. "You two get along so well."     She then leans out the side of the cart, looking ahead into the vast desert. When the group gets close to the target zone, she leaps out the side, deploys her gauntlets and sets off running ahead, launching herself forwards to overtake the chocobo riders. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head, smiling. She can't help a small chuckle at Raha. She reaches over to pat his leg consolingly. "It's nice, that you have a family," she says. Inga laughs as well at the interchange between Erika and her talking dog. A thing that, years ago, she'd have found incredibly strange. "Indeed, they would happily sacrifice us to Ifrit," she chimes in, then starts checking her talismans to make sure she hasn't forgotten any. Tomoe takes of into the sky and Inga shakes her head. "No, they will likely not expect that," she comments to those left. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It's immediately obvious to Tomoe that taking off early was the Right Thing to Do, because as she takes to the air, she'll be able to spot, roughly 5 seconds before it happens, a massive fireball launching itself out of a dust cloud just over the next ridge of sand. The spell barrels into one of the flanking Chocobo riders, an anguished 'wark' and screaming from the Huntress as she goes down hard. And like a shot, the Amalja'a riders spill out of the cloud, which dissipates like it was never there.     "BLOOD! BLOOD FOR IFRIT! SPILL IT ON THE SAND MY BROTHERS!" The rallying cry /ripples/ through the air, boosted by aether and Terrible Belief. A massive, 10 foot tall black skinned lizard man crawls up and out of a pit in the sand and then the desert is wash in the Beastmen. Ambush.     The staff wielding miqo'te wheels around on her 'bo, and calls out words of magic, a gentle embrace of energies restoring the fallen huntress, cradling her back to life.     Raha... Raha is already gone. The moment the girl screamed from the death blow, there was and explosion of noise from the armored warrior, as he EXPLODES from the cart, and is charging out across the sands, aether and dust kicking up as he barrels into the nearest clump of lizardmen. "FALL. FALL AND DIE, FIENDS." 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     One of the escorts goes down, and much like Raha, Yang sees red and fires herself up into the air. "YRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!" A horrific berserker battlecry sounds as she fires behind her mid-air, and slams herself down into another group of Amaal'ja, sending a destructing ripple through the sand, kicking up a 'wave' that would knock lesser beings clean off their feet. "YOU WANT BLOOD!? I'LL MAKE SURE YOU BLEED TEN FOLD! COME AT ME!" she bellows, her Aura flaring bright gold in the desert sun. 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' There is almost a retort to the getting along comment but it's interrupted by explosive fireballs being slung into the air, and instead Gaonoir is reflexively pulling Erika down into the cart. "Stay here and do your thing," he barks, before turning away and leaping out of the cart. 'Her thing' probably has to do with the phone-like device in her hands, as it briefly flashes the 'D with a monster head poking from the center' icon as Erika clicks open the app that gives her divice sync with Gaonoir, sending out a surge of energy as it activates. Energies of black and purple churn to life around Gaonoir as he dashes towards the uncoming horde, then pulsates as it expands outward as the digital energies restructure his very code in a matter of seconds. Dark Gaomon, digivolve to.... The miasma briefly collapses on itself and then explodes outward, as a what looks like a gigantic black bear with a wolf's head and huskie tail erupts from the dispersing energies still at a mad dash, now with massive clawed paws tearing up the sand. DARK GAOGAMON With a howling roar the now behemoth beast leaps into the fray, huge front claws radiating with shadowy streaks of energy as he crashing headlong into the enemy warparty. "Nacht Claws!" Though in all honesty it's less scratching, and more like he's punching but using the darkness infused claws like spiked knuckles. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Ambush. Inga curses. Assuming the cart comes to a start, Inga slides down to her feet and draws the knife from her belt. Without a moment's hesitation, she slices deeply into her opposite arm, blood rising quickly from the wound to be magically directed by Inga's knife, flung toward her companions. Yang's bright aura is augmented by Inga's blood-ward, lending a shimmer crimson and gold that buzzes through her, invigorating her while also providing a shield against some of the damage she is likely to draw. The same ward finds N'raha and Erika and her animal companion. Tomoe is currently out of range. With one more flick, she wards herself and starts striding forward, limping slowly as the others charge into danger. She seems unconcerned however. She finds a good place to stand and raises her staff. She does not yell, though her voice carries like thunder accross the battlefield. "Oh, you want blood? Be careful what you wish for," she says, and points her knife toward one of the charging amal'ja. "I curse you. May your blood boil and spill upon the sands," she says. The amal'ja will find that his blood does just that. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has avoided falling into a fireball attack she can see the incoming beastmen from her new vantage point she knows just what she's going to seek out the spell caster. She takes a moment to sight where the attack came from and she's going to crash down like the wrath of God upon the beastmen. She'll come down using the sun as cover, there are no words from her, for a moment as she hovers there us9ing the sun for cover, she'll chant quietly for a moment golden rune dance about her body as she chants. A second later rays of light will start raining down from above on the lizardmen. With her 'spell work' done she'll drop down from the sky to slam into the lizarmens ranks and only when she speaks. "An end to Ifrit." Is all she says she knows what will happen if they are captured or get their mitts on anyone else. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a howl among the beastmen ranks as battle is given. It's not even tempered by the fact that there's some very very heavy hitters in the crowd. It can't possibly be tempered after all, since the Amalja'a are already Taken. A beastly roar takes over the field as the outriders start to lay in their strikes as well.     They're smaller in size, to be sure, but what the huntresses lack in pure strength they make up for in mobility and cunning. The great yellow birds dart and scamper over the sands, with lancers piercing the hides of lizard men, archers peppering them with arrows. Though it's clear. WIthout the Adventurers here, this would have been a rout. And not in the favor of the Miqo'te.     Tomoe's aerial assault blasts downwards, but a few of the beams are shattered and broken up by enemy magicks, as Barriers and Protects pop up over packs of beastmen. There's casters in the midst.     Gaogamon's sudden presence gets plenty of notice as well, as a squadron of archers stomp their way up and over a ridge and start launching attacks at him as he tears into lizardmen warriors.     It's Yang and Raha that are getting really stuck in, though, as other pugilists and lancers get into the mix. It's hard to pick the two out at a distance, if not for the very blatant burst of Hometown energy that Raha's putting off. Axes swing and fists punch and Yang will find herself swarmed by two extra dudes who start to assault her from behind, spears laying in a dual ambush.     Inga, for her part can sense the other caster on the field. and it is The Big One. This is clear as there's a sudden sense of Awareness, and a pack of fireballs streak over the field right at the Seer. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's eyes widen slightly in preparation, her staff coming up and forward as the runes light up a cold blue. A small pillar of ice forms directly in front of her, which she hides behind as the fireballs descend upon her. When the air clears the pillar is melted but Inga is largely unharmed, the burns upon her skin already beginning to heal as she begins walking forward once more, her eyes on the large amal'ja caster. She raises her knife and points it toward him, her teeth clenched. "Today, you will be /my/ sacrifice. I curse you with the hour of your death--this hour, you fall," she says, the voice trick carrying her voice again even through the din of battle. Her energy descends upon him, seeking to paralize him temporarily, as Inga stopps to open the wound in her arm fresh, blood rising into the air, pooling and hardening, forming several wicked spears. With a sweep of her arm, the spears all fly for The Big One. She keeps walking toward him. 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' Gaonoir is thrashing lizard-men left and right, but it's interrupted by several arrows punching into the beast-mon's upper shoulder and side. He leers to the side a bit as a snarl escapes between his teeth. Inga's defensive ward and his own sheer toughness (plus not having the organic 'soft spots' the archers are likely aiming for based on his appearance) dampen the harm it does. It still hurts like bloody hell though. Another, more vicious growl parts his lips as Gaonoir rears up on his back legs and grabs several of the arrows with a paw to yank them out, throwing them aside. The lizardmen can be disappointed in that there is no blood on their weapons. He doesn't -have- blood. Just some motes of digital energy flickering in the air from the wounds. She may be a back row participant in the fight but that doesn't mean Erika isn't contributing. She's putting her intellectual and analytical skills to good use, doing a quick calculation on the trajectory those arrows would of come from to hit her digimon the way they did. Then starts partway from the cart and points towards the ridge. "Over there!" "Heh... they think they're safe at a distance. Cute." Wolfish eyes glimmer as Gaonoir turns his head to look towards the ridge, and then is engulfed in black energies. This time seeming to disappear into the shadows. Something that big abruptly disappearing isn't going to go unnoticed, but by the time the archers are considering it Gaonoir is already crossing the shadowy side of reality his voidstep traverses. "BLITZ STRIKER!" That shout came from... right below them?! In a way, as Gaonoir EXPLODES out of the archers' shadows, unleashing a shockwave of dark energy as he does so. Eat shadow telefrag, punks! 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang isn't a simple pugilist, she ducks, weaves, and uses enemy weapons against them when possible, grabbing spear hafts and using the hapless weilder to smack his fellows with. She roars back at the Amaal'ja with equal ferocity, even as scratches, and deeper gashes start to form on her body as weapons pierce through her Aura and the defensive barrier provided by Inga. Each strike she takes only seems to fuel her burning rage, those eyes turning from an angry lilac to a baleful red, her hair beginning to spread embers as if it were literally burning.     Dangersense triggers and instead of diving away, Yang just launches herself backwards, letting the spears cross into where she was, so she can then grab their heads and ram them together. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Even if her attack is countered the effect of making them have to deal with it might give an edge to those on the ground, she does not say anything else. As she engages the lizardmen with blade and shield she's also making use of being able to fly never fully setting foot on the ground. She will put a focus on killing the casters, where she can. Knowing how they can boost fn force of troops they need to go down she'll also pop her taunts. "Your god isn't fit to rule over Chocobo shite!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Yang and Raha seem to have the same idea, for the most part. Be loud and angry and annoying and Draw Attention. For Raha's case, the Fight is its Own Reward, though Keep Your Family Safe is a much closer second. That axe GLEAMS in the sun, energy lancing off the cleaving edge of the blade, lizardman blood staining the sands.     Yang> Beat a MF'er with another MF'er     This plan works surprisingly well, as plans go. The lances are deadly sharp, though, and one spangs off her Aura as she makes her move, clipping her something fierce before finding the life'sblood of another Amaljaa. Three more troopers pop up, though... they aren't advancing on Yang as eagerly as they were before. These beastmen may be tempered, they're not reckless.     RANGA TEMPEST- i mean Dark Gaonoir blinks out of existance in the shadows of the archers and gets to see something interesting as he starts to chew and generally darkness the hapless archers. The Tall Guy's back.     Inga, for her part, has put a stop to the first of the assaults from Blackbile Maladd Chah, but that's hardly the end of things. The Amalj'aa howls in rage at her words. "YOU. Chosen! You come to this star thinking you are high and mighty? Thinking you are greater than Lord Ifrit? This is folly. flee, and leave us to our work. Fall here and be trapped. Burn either way. It matters little. ALL shall burn. ALL shall bleed. SUFFER." The creature's staff raises up and slams down...     And Tomoe will get to see it from the air. Darkness swiftly starts to lance across the desert. The lizard man is blotting out the sun with his magics, great dark plumes of void aether boiling from the Blackbile's body and staff. What in the world has this one gotten into? 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "So you say." Is Tomoe's only reply she knows better than to argue with the Tempered after all no one's really home at this point, right She also see he's trying to cast something this is bad she sees the darkness start to lance across the desert he' blotting out the sun? She's got a dire feeling about it which has only one thought in Tomoe's mind she'll rise up into the sky, she'll swap weapon taking her Naginata, Mooncutter in hand. She'll then fall upon the caster sh intends to cut him down, she intends to impale him from above, she fears could he be trying to summon his god? This would be /very/ bad it would be very bad and she'll keep attacking if he somehow lives through it launching into a brutal series of strikes with her weapon. "Your 'god' has much to answer for." 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang grins ferally at the Amaal'ja as they circle just out of her supposed range. "You think you're safe if you stay back?" she slams her fists together, causing a pulse of wind to rush out from her body. She then adjusts her gauntlets into a slightly different mode, and starts firing explosive bolts out at the lizard men, since when did Pugilists get ranged attacks!? 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' She's not arguing with Blackbile. In honesty, she would sympathize. She's been on the end of people shit-talking her gods and she doesn't like it. She doesn't do any shit talking. This is simply a battle, and they intend to win. Inga frowns as the darkness of the void slithers out of the mage and his weapon, blocking out the sun. Something something fight in the shade. Honestly, it's a bit of a relief. That sun is relentless! Well, if voidsent are /also/ involved, that complicates things. Still, Inga's plan remains the same. She raises her staff as the amal'ja does his, and soon the sun is blotted out by more than just void energy, but thunderclouds as well. The air crackles with energy and smells of ozone, a bright bolt slamming down from the heavens into Blackbile. 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' Erika glances up as the sky starts to turn dark in a very unnatural way. "Uh. I'm pretty sure that sort of phenomenon is not natural, even if magic is involved." She holds the digivice a bit closer to her mouth so she doesn't have to shout over the distance. "Gaonoir, you need to find the source before he unleashes some weird mojo on us all." As luck would have it that's about the same time Gaonoir spots the warlock bellowing his incantation at Igna as he spits out an archer. He could teleport the distance again, but if this guy is dealing in dark powers he might sense him coming due to his own shadow energies. Time for an alternative method, as his trainer would say. Gaonoir bolts from his position, lowering his head as he does and the scraf around his neck rears up from the surrounding floof like a pair of uncoiling snakes, what appeared like fring at first spreading into claws of their own. As Inga charges her magic and Tomoe dives from above. The clawed tendrils snap and lash forward, trying to snare their clawed fringe around the warlock's staff. He's probably going to catch some of that lightning if it hits, but he's a big beefy boy, he can take it. Worth the risk of trying to wrest the warlock's staff under control. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Yang's peppershots of Dust are going to take the Amalj'aa by surprise, that's for sure, and they quarrel and panic if only a little. Because this is not how things were supposed to go. This is not at all how this was supposed to go. A lancer and a pugilist fall, and then one of the beatmen steps in, carrying a massive tower shield, snarling order to fall behind him. Oh. Well.     And then The assault renews, the beastmen darting in and out from behind the defenses of the Guardian, trying to score more blows on the raging Dragon.     Over in Wizard Town though, there's trouble. Gaonoir leaps out to snag at that staff, and he will get... a very interesting reaction. This Darkness is not His Darkness. It's wrong. It's not shadows, it's not the 'absence of light'. It's the antithesis of light. Darkness with a capital D and it tastes funny. Not like 'ick bleaugh gross' but... Off-brand. Nearly there. Close enough. Like you couldn't tell. Maybe another taste? Just to be sure? You can take another taste, right?     Lightning Falls on Blackbile, and that spangs off another one of those energy shields, even as he wrests control of his staff from Gaonoir. "INSOLENT. Mother Crystal calls OUTSIDERS. She will fall like all the others. This is not Her time any more, FOOLISH HYUR." Another lancing barrage of fire, this time at Tomoe as she falls on him. He shoulders into the blow, taking the hit and... no blood. Not blood. Rather instead, there's just a seeping mass of black nothingness that bubbles out of the Amalj'aa, that coils around Tomoe and- Oh. That's not so bad really. It's nice here, in the darkness. Cosy. Take a break with a nap or something, why don't you? 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang bares her teeth at the Guardian, resetting her gauntlets and parrying incoming strikes, then stepping up and into the Guardian's defensive stance, grabbing his shield and swinging him around by it, pirouetting in place and using the beastman's bulk to clear her personal area. "YOU THINK A SHIELD WILL PROTECT YOU FROM ME!?" she bellows at her target, slamming him down into the ground while any others brave enough to try come in to attack her. "I'll kill all of you, and then I'll find your puny god, and I'll do the same to him! YOU HEAR ME!? BRING OUR YOUR GOD! I'LL DEFEAT HIM WITH MY BARE HANDS!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "So what have you done, hmm? Made a pact with the voidsent? Sided without those from Outside?" she asks, still walking forward. If lightning bounces off his shields, she will hammer him with blood. Cut him off from his power. "Give me just a moment my friends," she says, then stabs herself anew. She cuts deep into her vein, then the other side, a large amount of blood beginning to pool in the air. Inga goes paler. This is a /lot/ of blood. This is going to take a great deal out of her. Luckily, the others are also pummeling him, distracting him from the magic she is trying to work on him. Once she has enough blood--and it has to be enough, she can afford to lose no more-- she weakly directs it outward. The glowing crimson substance begins to circle around Blackbile.... 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe scored a hit alongside her friends but it's not enough and the beastman does not bleed out blood. No, some sort of darkness what the hell is that? She doesn't want to know and she's starting to get a bit on the sleepy side she shakes her head trying to break free, she struggles to break fee. "...Get out..." Tomoe is clearly struggling here, but it's time she is able to even in this state perform sword arts as given the change Cardinal made to her? It's more or less a muscle memory part of her. She launches herself at the Beastmen even has Inga and Yang are upon them. HEr body moves there's a blue glow about her blade, she moves inhumanly fast launching into a storm of spear thrusts followed by several sweeps and she leaps up into eh air with a final driving strike calling out. "LUNAR REQUIEM: She's gone and use her own sword art or is that spear art in this case? Either way, even if she does nothing it should distract him from her comrades plans to end him. Though if this black mist keeps it's not even Tomoe knows how long this will last. 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' To someone that's tasted the Dark Side before, getting a feel of what's flowing through Blackbile is .... weird. Almost indescribable. Some of it can be chocked up to a different world and different supernatural mechanics. But that doesn't explain how, even to a being brimming with darker energies, off-put it feels. Just.. wrong. In an entirely different way. The wrong way. Blackbile was already engulfed in the thrall of corruption from his god, lost to any other aspects of the world around him. He was something Gaonoir had almost become. Those two things are enough to actually get the great beast to withdraw, grip loosing enough for Blackbile to pull his weapon free again as Gaonoir snarls and bristles, retracting the scarf tendrils. The corruption that flowed through Blackbile, and the equally vile blackness that flowed out of his wound. The darkness of impending destruction looming overhead. The roars of battle from both sides all around them, littered with death. It was a bitter and foul taste, the sort that haunts memories. No, no, wrong, it's wrong on more levels that most would realize. Just too many similarities between what Infrit does to temper his followers, and what the computer-god of the Digital World did to his followers. Tried to do to him. "NOT THIS TIME!" Gaonoir roars, and somewhere over the ridge admist the darkness there's a flash of purple light as the digivice in Erika's hand surges with power resonating with Gaonoir's emotional state. Again the energy engulfs him, spiking once more, churning in the air with it's own torrent of power. Then shatters, and heavy metal feet slam to the ground, echoed by the clanging giant metal-clad fists clenching. The problem has gotten bigger, and the natural digimon response is to get as bigger and more powerful than the problem is. Said metal fists start flying at Blackbile, to a point where they're literally a blurr of silver and purple. In rage there is little finess, just pure pummeling force over and over again, Gaonoir putting everything his Perfect form has into giving the warlock no time to respond to whatever Inga is conjuring up. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Blow after blow rains down on the Guardian's shield, each one making it glow hot with Dust and Aether and Energy and blow after blow is turned away. There's a matching snarl from the Lizard man. "HRISSST. I will DEVOUR YOUR EYES and CAST YOUR BLO-"     And the light suddenly goes out of the creatures eyes. Two reasons. One. Raha got behind it. Thank Yang. And Two, because those eyes and the head they're attached to are now rolling away into the sand, the body of the Amalj'aa crumpling to the sand, bleeding out... and fading away into life force. In fact, that's happening to a lot of the bodies here. Amalj'aa that fall are being snuffed out, bodily, and spirited away.     Raha's eyes meet Yang's, red pin pricks of raw fury in the dark of that visor... and it's clear that he's smiling at his compatirot, even as he turns in place and CHARGES at the Warlock.     Over in Wizardland though, things are going Poorly. At least for Blackbile. There's a giant wolf trying to rend him limb from limb. There's a knight that's turned into Sword and is Sword'ing him repeatedly. These are less than Ideal. But they are not killing him. More of that gross not-quite-right blakness seeps out of him, and his body is losing cohesion. "TRRRRrrryyyyy as you MIGHT... Great Ifrit liiiiiives on. The light of Hyyyyyyydaelyn will be SNUFFED OUT." The creature's eyes start to grow. Or glow. Or something. As that blood circle starts to gather at its feet, it's getting harder to tell where the Mist starts and Blackbile ends. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' The circle of blood snaps shut. It becomes a ring of brightly glowing energy, the sweet, golden energy of Gaia. Another goddess, another world, but Inga is one of Her Chosen, and where she goes the anima flows. Generally, when a magic circle closes around a caster, it traps them inside and stops them from casting. That's what she's aiming for, even as the Amal'ja mage seems to sort of...melt. That's certainly unsettling. "If you keep summoning him, we will keep killing him. Try me. I literally have forever," she informs him, the circumference of that magic circle made with her anima infused blood getting smaller and smaller. 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' The frenzy of punches stops from Gaonoir. Eyes narrow and glowing crimson behind his visor. Instead of another punch he opens one metal clad hand. Just to grab what remains of Blackbile's head, and use his tremendous strength to help shove the warlock into the closing circle of magic and help him on his way to oblivion. His response to being 'snuffed out'? "You first." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is clearly grappling with the effect of the black mist as Tomoe seems to be slowing own she pause though for half a second she sees the circle she sees something chills her is he using people as fuel for his magic? His own people? She is stagging though the mist has taken its toll on her she'll keep trying to fight she'll keep going. Inga's words ring true and in the back of her mind. Inga does have forever where does not? She wonders will anyone recall her? She pushes it out of her mind that's not important and she'll move to chant again this time rather than light? She'll send a single powerful lighting bolt at the Beastman hopefully he won't last much longer. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A shove.     A lightning bolt.     The magic circle does indeed snap shut.     The aether flow is cut away from Blackbile. And then... the creature just fades out. A hateful, misty, aspartame cloud of almosts and maybes and would-you-kindlies. The last thing to go? Is the eyes. Hateful, burning things, the light of Ifrit the last thing to go.     And somewhere not far, a floating blackrobed figure huffs, slightly disinterestedly at the outcome of this. Her red mask adjusts and shifts, and there's a click of teeth. "Fool." A long suffering sigh, as she stretches and slides a tomestone from the aether, swiping at it lightly. "Well. If nothing else it proves the tests." The device beeps, and images slide on its face... and then she's gone.     Raha's head snaps up, even as chocobo riders wheel around and start to cheer for the Heroes of the day. His ears flatten out, and his tail flicks straight as a bristle brush... 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga lets the blood fall as the caster disappears, immediately falling to her knees as her legs give out. The wounds in her arms are already beginning to heal, but she used a lot of blood to do that. She's going to be weak and lightheaded for a bit. Inga looks to Raha, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She follows his gaze...and narrows her eyes. Then, she sighs. Always complications. "Well fought everyone," she says weakly. "I'm afraid that if you need healing you may wish to ask another. I will need a few minutes," she explains, trying not to just tip over in the sand. Laying down seems like it would be so very nice. 

:'''{{#var:765|Gaonoir (765)}} has posed:''' Gaonoir ughs as he shakes fading remenants of the warlock off the hand his pushed with. "Blackbile was a little too well named." It's about now that Erika finally runs up to the group like some support character that supposedly lurked just out of view for most of the fight. "Gaonoir.. are you.. huff..." Unfortunately even after the time she's spent running around with digimon she's not quite as physically fit as she is mentally, and has to stop to catch her breath, vagely gesturing with one hand to wait for her to be able to finish. Use to it by this point Gaonoir just crosses his arms, somewhat impatiently. "Okay... I'm okay..." Erika exhales slowly, and stands back up. "You're okay? And the quarry?" Gaonoir grinds a bionic heel into the ground where Blackbile disappeared. "Dealt with... though there may be bigger problems around here." "No, really?" The girl gestures at him with the device in her hand. "The digivice totally freaked out for a moment. The same way it does when yo--" She's cut off by one large metal hand, gently for it's size, being clamped over her mouth. "We'll talk about it. -Later-." Partially to keep her from rambling off personal details... And partially because he's getting that 'being watched' feeling. Though there's no one else to be seen. Just... Or maybe it's because he's already on edge from finding out HOW beings like Infrit influence their followers. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Inga will find herself quickly scooped up by one of the Chocobo riders, and spirited back to the cart, where other injured huntresses are resting themselves. The pretty redhead conjuror miqo'te smiles as he stands next to the Seer and starts sealing up those woulds, staving off the blood loss as well. "Come now. Can't let you of all people fall over, now can we?"     Raha shuffles forward, his armor vanishing from view as he approaches Erika and and Gaonoir and Tomoe. He's left in a loose fitting shirt, some long pants and wide sneakers. Perfect for desert movement. "Come on. Let's get back to the Oasis. We need to report in as soon as possible." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe seems ready to collapse and is on her knees using her spear to support herself. She shakes her head a bit. "Don't tax yourself, Inga, I'll walk it off I'm not sure what he hit me with but it sucked....Hey.... I know what I heard about an awesome place to eat on this world a seafood place in Limsa Lominsa." 
}}

6634/MECC Tomoe VS N'Raha

2019-12-18T14:06:20Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/05/28 |Location=Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=First round MECC action between N'raha and Tomoe |Cast of Characters=819, 6 |pretty=yes }} {{Pos..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/05/28
|Location=Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=First round MECC action between N'raha and Tomoe
|Cast of Characters=819, 6
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Tonight? The Shrine is not your usual version of an arena or Colosseum. It is. however, very much a festival space. Because tonight, two combatants are squaring off on the stones and seas of Limsa Lominsa itself!     Or at least as close as the recreation can get. Thanks to the sponsorship of the Eorzean Alliance Tourism Commission!     Spectators will be seated around the outside of the large stone ramparts of the Aftcastle, the parapets and overhang overlooking the seas of Eorzea.     And one particular Axcatte out here in his ruddy best, he is. N'Raha awaits his opponent. Gone is the flashy red armor, the keen red lines and mythril... and in its place is a sharp looking pirate's styled coat and trousers, and a tricorn hat atop the Miqo'te's head. All in the colors of the Maelstrom. I wonder who's night this is out here.     That's obvious, from the large contingent of the Grand Company packing the stadium. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe takes a look about the replication of Limsa Lominsa and she sees the rock spires which have become the core of the city and the walkways she got ideas, oh she's got ideas for this. She also makes a note to actually go there later. She looks to see several people she knows the towering form of her Father's Avatar is there as are some others from the GU or SAO survivors. She grins at the appearance of her foe, she's clad in a mix of cloth and plate amour with A Red Cross of some sort on the breastplate. She's tall too pointy ear and purple hair. "Been a while N'Raha. Looks like this is going to be fun and remind me I need to actually visit it later. I want to see what the fishing is like there." She noes as she draws her sword Caliburn is in hand and she also pulls out a Shield which bears names on it which ripple and change from time to time. "Well let us not keep the people waiting shall we?" WIth that Tomoe breaking into a Dash for N'Raha intending to engage him right out the gate launching into a combo of strikes intending to probe his defences. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A Paladin vs. Warrior is a timeless bout, and there's already ripples of noise and fervor in the crowd as the Not-An-Elezen charges in at the miqo'te. Raha, for his part, leans into the strikes, his ax coming up once, twice, three times to fend off the blows, the fourth one sinking into the leather and chain mail of that jacket. He grins though, feeling the bite of that sword ,the pain of the cut. After last night's humiliation against Terra, he had no intention of making this one easy.     He steps right back in, locking ax with sword, his head pressing against Tomoe's aggressively. "If that's how you intend to do things, then FINE."     The miqo'te steps back and SWATS at the Paladin with the flat of his ax, using the weight of the blade to look to stun his opponent. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The Battle is now well underway, and Tomoe seems to be enjoying herself and she could be mistaken for an Elezen it's true. With N'Raha now counter-attacking Tomoe grins. "Hey if I go easy on it would end badly for me." She also gets Axed a question, she moves her shield to block it but the sheer force of the hit rattles her pretty good, and she'll move to leap over N'Raha trying to land behind him and launch into a sword art on him. Her blade glows green for a moment and she'll launch into two quick strikes. "Got to say I like your style!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     No one is expecting a barn stormer here with flippy shit. That said, there's some flippy shit. Raha grouses as Tomoe leaps over the top of him, his ax coming up for a swipe that misses, but he quickly recovers, spinning in place and- Steel meets steel again, and N'raha just leans into the strikes, the blows glancing off aether barriers as he raises his defenses. It looks like after last night, he's not taking chances.     a grin. "Sorry, but after Nova pulled me to pieces, I ain't letting that happen again. Not again.     He steps in and shoulder checks the Not-Elezen, aiming to put Tomoe on the ground so he can just do a nice plain overhand CHOP on the girl. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe says "Nova is quite the fight and I guess I'll have to mix things up more then." N'Raha's style is simple but effective and if it ain't broke don't fix it right? She'll not be quite enough to avoid this incoming hit. The impact is not direct as Tomoe is able to brace herself but she's on the ground she's also not bleeding from he hit her gear and herself have glowing red wireframe effect at the point of injury for her. She does not seem daunted though as she gets back up aiming to kick N'Raha on the way up, then attempt a shield slam him as she sets up for her next manoeuvre. If she can she's going to start trying to move away from N'Rara? What's she up to now? 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The shield bash is something that the catman is 'used to' but you can't ever REALLY be ready when someone is beating you in the head and chest with a big piece of metal backed by magical energy. He staggers back and scuffs his boots on the stone.     There's some hooting and cheers in the crowd, and then a very clear voice calls out 'PUT ON A GOOD SHOW LIEUTENANT OR I'M DOCKING YOUR PAY!' A glance up would reveal Admiral Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn herself, flanked by top brass from the maelstrom.     Raha's ears flick a bit, before he steps back in. There's a feint, two three stepps the wrong way, before Raha's frame FLICKERS in a cloud of aether and dust, and then he's on top of her, shoulder tackling Tomoe from a distance. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe does take note the leader of the city-state is here cheering to the crowd and threating to dock her pay she can't help but grin at that. "Seems the Admiral deemed it right to come to see this fight. I'm honoured and they really care about you don't they. You have done your home good I'd say but as she says? Let us give them a show!" She will then move to leap back red wing forming from her back but they let the light pass through then and she'll fly up and perch on the Etherite in the middle of the plasma where she'll start to chant, in Norse. She really needs to get more help from Inga on that. The Runes dance about her body and then she finishes as rays of light seek out N'Raha with Tomoe deeming fly down to one of the docks nearby with a grin. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Aetheryte! He's not allowed to hit that! Raha snarls as he looks up at Tomoe, only to get plastered in the face by one of those energy beams, his armor scorhingg, the hat flying away into the water. The miqo'te huffs, his black hair wild and free now, the pony tail gone. A growl in his chest, that lion's roar building up. "COME ON THEN. We gonna fight or are we going to dance?"     There's a snarl and the catman swings his ax upwards, energy blades lancing out, trying to swat Tomoe out of the sky and back to the stones.     "I DID THIS ONE LAST NIGHT." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe does not remain on the Aetheryte for long as she sees the miqo'te is not in the best of the moods, she'll move to come down. "Never fight your foe on their terms always make them fight on yours" She also is having to get the heck down at this point as the Axe is coming right at her the energy blade connect and she'll gain more wireframe injuries as she drops back to the pavement in a couch and then rise and dart at N'Raha trying to flank him with a rapid series of attacks. "I don't know about you but I'm having a blast here!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Though, Raha's idea of 'a blast' is a little bit skewed, as his eyes are hitting that red color again. The Inner Beast is loose, and there's more than a little wrath floating around the cat man. Stray aether casts off him in a haze, energy roiling off his frame as he shifts in place and...     Unleash. There's a lion's roar, and a look of plain JOY in the catman's eyes, as he snatches up his ax, Bravura glowing a crimson fire as he whips around in place, raises up the axe in an arc and then... SMASHES it down on the simulated stone, shattering a part of the aetheryte plaza, and possibly parts of Tomoe too, if she doesn't move. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is flashing back to fighting some of the Imperium of Man's foes in a moment and that's all that saves her she can see N'Raha Coming in she'll pop a number of her cool down to brace herself for the powerful hit. Stone goes everywhere she's hit she's quite messed up in its aftermath but she's not finished here, she's not finished by a long shot. "I think we can safely say we're making a show of it." She notes a bit pained voice. Her next action is to rush N'Raha trying to strike him in a combo of blows to force him back maybe towards the water near the plaza's edge if she can pull it off. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Beaten and bruised, Raha is finding himself shoved back and back and back by the sudden onrush of blows. The crowd is getting into it, shouts and cries ringing out, pirates cheering and jeering and sea shanties ringing out foretelling the death of both competitors.     They're pirates, deal.     Jabs and pokes all find their home, Raha's jacket ripped and torn and shredded as he staggers back and then finally plants his feet on the edge of the stone, the back of his knees bumping up against the low railing. A lion's roar, and then he lashes back out. A countering flurry of strikes, wide and heavy, looking to batter that shield out of the way and open up the Paladin to further damage. "TILL THE SEA, TOMOE." His tail swishes, his eyes gleam, and all of his hackles are up now. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe totally deals with the fans they are pirates after all honest to god pirates you'd expect in the movies or games on her world walking about. They are clearly having a grand old time watching the fight and Tomoe intends to keep it up. Raha's pretty messed up but he's still going he's still not dropping. The hits come slamming into the shield again and again and it's doing some serious damage here Tomoe is clearly getting messed up but she's not done yet, not yet. "Till the Sea? I see!" She might not know the local saying of till the sea swallows all. She gets the intent roughly. She moves back throws her shield at N'Raha hopefully to distract him while she comes in for a series of blows with her sword, simple quick and hopefully effective. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman was reaching for his waist, for something in the aether, his hand flickering out to snag at... well. Energies, to lash himself to Tomoe and forestall the end of this...     When that sword tip neatly sinks past his armor and into his chest. The light goes out of his eyes in an instant, and he just...     "Oh." And then he's slumping forward. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe knows not to let up on N'Raha he is someone she sees as a peer when it comes to protecting one's party from harm and she's good at it he's pushing her hard, she won't last much longer and she knows it. She scores a hit she makes ready for a counter attack but N'Raha drops from her last strike. She sees him go Oh and just falls forward. She'll move to pull her weapon out and signal to the refs that the fight it over the announcer calls out her victory and the arena starts to reset she'll over N'Raha a hand up. "Hell of a fight my friend, and I do have to ask to know any good places to eat in the city replicated here I have always been meaning to visit it." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Warrior slumps down, and is caught by the Paladin, his eyes unfocused for a long moment or two... before the energies of the Shrine kick in, and he's getting abck up to his feet. There's jeering and boos and some cheers and just general noise among the pirate patrons, though. The catman's eyes lock on Tomoe again, and he sighs, ears wilting. "That's me out of the tournament. Three losses."     A moment to clap the not-elf on the shoulder, before he sighs, and steadies himself. "...Twelves. I did better in the WMAT." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe seems to get where N'Raha's coming from though. She seems to appreciate the clap on the shoulder and make sure he's not going to fall over. She then tilts her head a bit. "I'm out too, this was my last match and my second win. By God, though I had fun and ha there are some old memories there. Come one let us shove off shall we?" 
}}

6626/MECC: Tamamo no Mae vs N'Raha

2019-12-18T14:05:26Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/05/24 |Location=Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=First round MECC action between N'raha and Tamamo no Mae |Cast of Characters=819, 1106 |pretty=y..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/05/24
|Location=Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=First round MECC action between N'raha and Tamamo no Mae
|Cast of Characters=819, 1106
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Most times when you consider 'this is where we're having a fighting tournament', it's someplace like a stadium or an arena with plenty of turf and plenty of seats and lots of protective equipment out there for Things To Happen. This is not one of those times and tonight is DEFINITELY not a night for HARD BRUTAL FIGHT MANS.     Because tonight, the MECC Shrine Region is done up like a Beach. In fact, it's all done up as a one to one copy of Costa Del Sol, with plenty of raised platforms to watch the combat on, as the sun is fixed in a lovely setting position. Plenty of places for vendors to be out there, plenty of fun and sun etc.     And a Certain Warrior Cattemanne is out here in a Hawai'ian shirt, flip flops, swim trunks, and a smile. N'raha is currently doing stretches, as a drone cam hovers around him to make sure everyone can get good angles of the lean, rugged Warrior of Light. 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     A beach.     Tamamo's making her way towards the new stage and a smile is upon her face, tails swishing behind her. There's a minor flash and she's in her swimsuit, holding a beach parasol over her shoulder, "So I believe this is where my next match will take place? Is it a sunbathing competition now?" there's a brief look towards the cat-man, her ears perk...     "Hey, you must be N'Raha, huh? I s'pose we should give the fans a nice bit of entertainment huh?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's... quite a few people out here tonight already taking in the scene. Plenty of signs and flyers for the ACTUAL Costa Del Sol, and besides, Raha already put on one nail biter of a match himself. And Miss Tamomo was no push over either. It was set to be a really fun night.     There's a fluff of his ears, and then the catman straightens up out of that DEEP SLAV SQUAT and nods. "Hello, dear Caster. I am in fact N'Raha. Call me Raha." A wink and he holds out his hand, conjuring up Bravura, the heavy axe dropping into his grip. "And I mean... if you want to make it a sunbathing competition, by all means, do so." He grins, and then hops back to his feet, a very feline motion. "Dinner afterward, remember?" 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     Tamamo nods, with a twitch of her ears. "Nice axe." she comments, "Mmhmm, loser pays, right?" Tamamo bounces a bit up and down before going back to her idle stance, a look that doesn't seem too serious. "Tell you what, I'll do the honorable thing and allow you the first to touch me." a pause...     "Gently, I'm just a fragile Caster and I'm sure my Husband wouldn't approve of you mauling my beautiful face now." she gives this little sly grin... then shakes her parasol as a few talismans drop down and surround her.     "Here kitty kitty... the fox is ready to play." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a sigh from the Catman, and then he points the axe at Tamamo. "Not a single woman in my life has ever been 'just' something, Miss Tamamo. And I'm pretty certain you're not going to be the first."     A pause. "Also I'm cooking it either way."     And then the Warrior is just a blur of color and aether, a dust storm on the wind as he grips the axe, and shoulder checks Tamamo from 30 yards away, one fluid dash of red angry energy. 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     Tamamo holds herself fast against the blur of color and aether... then the shoulder check, making the fox skid backwards a few yards, kicking up more sand into the sky. "Oooh, I felt that." she whispers, "Someone's trying to get all handsy." Tamamo herself smirks a bit, looking down at the ground.     "Boom." she whispers, the talismans upon the ground from where she was and now where N'Raha's standing finally ignite and send up a quick flame pillar, the fox is still casually holding her parasol behind her, keeping the sun off her back.     "Feel the heat?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The warrior runs smack into those explosions, into those talismans, and stops in his tracks. He has to, at least, to catch his bearings as his ears ring and- And the sudden movement of aether nearby pegs his attention. "...hah! Not yet! I'm sure I'll be feeling it here before too long. You're a sly fox."     A deeper grin. "They don't come any other way, though."     He gathers up his energy once more, and charges across the sand once more, salt spray kicking up from those sandals, as he steps in and goes for a low blow, the axe swinging for Tamamo's thighs. 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     That heavy swing of the axe slams right into her as the fox dodges enough to lessen the blow, but she still takes a good cut to the leg, blood splashing into the sand below. "Maybe you might earn my True Name after this, Raha." she huffs, before kicking up off the ground, taking her parasol spear and going for a few jabs here and there, aiming for the chest!     "Keyword is maybe." she grins, keeping up the spear pressure. "See, I'm trying something different, not relying on my witchcraft..." a pause, "Though, you might be making me rethink this!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha sees the blood, can count the hit this time as the fox scampers away from him again. That's fine. He's got plenty of time, plenty of energy. Even as those jabbing attacks come in with that parasol. The axe blade of the Bravura comes up more than a few times to ward off the attacks, but the force behind them is draining at Raha's reserves slowly. He's still smiling though...     That last hit from the Caster gives him an opening, though, as Tamamo starts talking about witchcraft. The axe comes up and around, and then Raha just CHUNKS the shaft of it crossways into the Caster's chest region, trying to knock the breath out of her and get back some of his own energy. 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     Tamamo hurks as the axe's shaft slams right into her chest, coughing and gasping for breath at this point, dropping to her knees for a moment. She huffs and coughs, shaking her head to get her bearings back, dragging herself up by her spear to stand back up. "Ugh, that was.... ugh... a dirty blow." she pulls back and hops up towards the deck.     "I'm only beginning to fight." she shouts from the higher vantage point, "I have the high ground, N'Raha!" and with this, Tamamo winds up and launches her parasol like a boomerang towards the catman! "Catch!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Jump Raha was prepared for, he's had to deal with Lancers and even a Dragoon or two in his time, though, that boomeranging blade he was not prepared for. Nor was he prepared for the Caster to leap up into the crowd. Patrons go scampering for safety, and the announcer can be heard calling for 'people stay clear of the combatants, please, stay clear of the combatants!'     He looks up though, eyes fixing on Caster and her pretty outfit and that damn parasol and-     He's gone in a puff of aether, another one of those magic-fueled motions, as he leaps in return, landing with a crunch of sandals on wood, his axe coming down in a sweeping overhead strike that shakes the platform and breaks parts of off to dash into the simulated sand below. 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     Tamamo chuckles a bit, "Sorry folks, but a battlefield is a battlefield!" the parasol boomerang comes right back and she perks up... Wait, where did he go? Tamamo looks left.... right...     Is it a bird, is it a Manaclipper? No, it's a catman with an axe swinging downwards! Tamamo mikon's and jumps but the blade comes right into her and she trips from the sudden lack of foothold, coming crashing down into the pile of sand and debris...     Pulling herself out of the debris, she shakes her head and stands back up, blood dripping from her side and leg again... "Okay okay, ow, that hurts!" she mutters, sighing, "OKay okay, I get it, you want to win."     Tamamo kicks herself off the debris and just dashes right towards the catman, trying to just ram the spear right through the catman! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The fox mikons, the fox LEAPS, the fox SPEARS...     And that tip of that parasol sinks right into Raha's chest, temporarily adding to his collection of scars. Like, all the way up to the base of the tip. There's a mad look in Raha's eyes, as he glances down to it, and then to Tamamo, and grins. "Winning.... winning is important yes." A laugh, and he swings the ax down, cracking the parasol's tip off and leaving it inside of him. Blood is seeping from around the wound now, as he grunts and plants his feet. "You aren't the only one with a partner to go home to and celebrate with." That slightly mad grin, and then he's swinging again. Aether gathers around his hands and shoots straight up the shaft into the blade, as the force of the attack spins him in place. 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     Tamamo blinks, her parasol's broken. Well that sucks. Oh well, she doesn't need it for what she's going to do. "Winning is /very/ important. I need to prove myself to my Husband too as he proves himself all the time for me." she states with the confidence of a very loyal wife.     Tamamo sees the attack well before hand, something telling her to pray return to her previous position... and she bounces away, kicking up some sand to obscure her retreat... and soon, she's back in her mage robes, Caster proper instead.     "Well, here we go." she states, a bright smile upon her face, "I hope my Husband is ready."     The arena goes dark a bit, torii gates slowly appear as the fox starts to chant.     "God who resides in Izumo.     Aesthetically certain,     Breath of the soul.     Residing in the mountains and watery heavens, Amaterasu.     Let this freely become the proof of purification.     Thy name is Weighted Stone of Tamamo.     Become the sacred treasure, Mirror of Uka!     Just kidding~"     Tamamo slowly floats up, eight talismans wrap around her and soon, turn into four balls of fire and four of ice and soon, launch towards the catman with the force of all of Tamamo's fury! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Have you ever just gone outside and looked at the Sun? I mean, just looked at it for a while? Let that bright light fill your senses, let all of it consume you with its friendly, warm glow and It's in my eyes I can't see why can't I see, help me?     Cause that's how Raha takes this. He notices the Caster changing like that, his body pushing forward into the spell as she recites and... people are scampering now. They're RUNNING. This has got the crowd both SHOOK but also loving it because when else can you be right up next to Elites doing their thing?     The platform disintegrates underneath him, the catman falls to the sand and the mud and the sea... and out of the wreckage, he's just walking forward. She's back in her proper gear... and so is he. A massive set of plate mail covers the catman from head to toe, the only piece of him visible is the glowing, burning red eyes from under that visor, and the steady dribble of blood from the boots and skirt of the outfit.     "...Hello, Caster." He plants his feet, and lances out a punch, sickly green read aether boiling from his fist that aims to both hurt the Servant, but also bolster himself. 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     Tamamo frowns.... it didn't knock him out. But.... that's okay. She'll deal. She'll deal with it.     The armored catman just walks up to her... and slug her and the fox just shrugs with a scowl upon her face. It hurt, as evidenced by her nose bleeding from the strike, but she's not down, not by a long shot. There's a flash... and Tamamo's in her swimsuit again, with a fresh parasol! She curls up the parasol, throws it in the air... then dashes with her knee at high speed... turning around for a kick... then she kicks off and back up into the air. "Tokonatsu Nikkou! Goddess' Love Parasol!" a pause, "Also known as Polygamist Castrastion Kick!" she divekicks the armored catboy into the chest, to bounce off, catch the parasol and open it.... following explosions to rock whatever is around! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     This. This was not what the catman was expecting. This is not what the crowd was expecting, but they're rolling with it. Everyone's rolling with it now as the Very Handsome Caster Fox lifts into the air, lifts gracefully, gathers her energy, and then... DIVES. Those red eyes go WIDE in the visor, and he lifts up the ax just in time to... wait what? He's not blocking. Instead, the miqo'te lashes out... a chain, a glowing magical tether, that he catches Tamamo with right as she lands on him and DRIVES The pair of them into the sand. Blood and dust and everything kicks up, water spraying at the competitors...     But when the dust clears, Raha is still... standing. Almost. He's upright at least, and his body glows a baleful horrid red.         H O L M G A N G     A breath, and he releases, and raises his axe high. There's a massive flash of colors and lights, the Bravura seemingly splitting itself into dozens of blades, and he just SWINGS downward with a noise of ghostly sawblades. 

:'''{{#var:1106|Tamamo no Mae (1106)}} has posed:'''     The fact that the armored catman is /still/ standing even after that.... and she shakes her head.... the magical chain pulls her close and she uses this momentum to jump right over N'Raha, avoiding that massive axe attack completely, showing off some grace to the Caster.     Tamamo's panting hard, she's been run ragged this entire fight and... she's trying. But with this, she has an opening, FINALLY! "I'm going to have a lot of fish... of every type." she states, "And my husband is joining me." she nods as a matter of fact before she swings her parasol spear around towards his side! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha blinks. He usually doesn't miss that, and... Oh she's giving him an order. Oh. There's laughter and...     And when the spear comes back around, Raha is already out of his armor, head down, kneeling in a bow to Tamamo, the blow... WHIFFING over his head.     Thankfully. Hooo.     His ears perk up a bit, and his tail floofs. "...Right. f-fish." He gruns and stands up, resting an elbow on the parasol, and nods. "Gimme a sec." He slumps his legs out and around in front of him, and holds up a hand. Because he's got to pull that spike out of himself so the Shrine can do its thing. "hnnnnffff twelves..." 
}}

6624/MECC: Nova Terra vs N'Raha

2019-12-18T14:04:28Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/05/27 |Location=Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=First round MECC action between N'raha and Nova Terra |Cast of Characters=819, 6381, 525 |pretty..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/05/27
|Location=Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=First round MECC action between N'raha and Nova Terra
|Cast of Characters=819, 6381, 525
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Tonight's match featured a pair of relative 'unknowns' among the larger Multiversal audience and perhaps that's much for the best. One of them isn't supposed to be found, while the other is 'new' again, after a long time away.     That said the crowds aren't light for the show. Nor is this the typical place for a fight. It's not a sound stage, an arena, nothing like that. Instead, stands and seats have been set up outside a large section of scrub land and farms along the outskirts of a massive walled city. The astute among the crowd will know it to be Ul'dah, and tonight's match is in fact sponsored by the Eorzean Alliance Tourism Commission.     A section of the surroundings have been cordoned off, including some rock formations, a bridge over a slow moving brook, and some sparse grasses and cacti.     And in the middle of it all, stading on the edge of the bridge, is one N'Raha. He's clad in his full suit of armor, letting the setting sun glint off the shiny red metal, the desert breeze swaying the kilt of the chest piece. His massive ax Bravura waits for use, resting against his hands and the stone of the bridge. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Blue light washes through the air to reveal Nova casually striding towards her starting position. Her rifle is resting over her shoulder, an amused smile on her face. So far she's been doing pretty well in the tournament. And if she can win this, her last fight for the round, she has a good chance of proceeding to the next.     Nova glances around at the surroundings that have formed for this match. She doesn't recognise them. Or their significance. Doesn't really matter though. She'll adapt! Nova then looks to her opponent. She has naturally heard of N'Raha before. But they've only met the once. And she doesn't recall much. So she's going into this fight mostly blind. But then that's not all that unusual.     Coming to a stop at the other end of the bridge, Nova gives a nod to N'Raha in greeting, "Nothing personal." Nova brings her visor down over her eyes and shifts her rifle into both hands. She keeps her focus on N'Raha as the countdown does its thing.     3... 2... 1... The horn sounds!     Nova turns and dashes to the side, beginning to head away from the bridge as she raises her rifle and fires off a burst of rounds at N'Raha. More surpressing fire than accurate killshots. Nova's obviously trying to keep the melee fighter away. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     NOT EVEN ANY PROPER PLEASANTRIES WHAT SORT OF MONSTERS ARE WE     Raha waves a bit to Nova, seeing that rifle, knowing, well. He's up against a very accomplished and deadly assassin here. Gotta be on guard. Which is a shame as he's slightly taken off guard as that gun comes up immediately, and the catman is leaning into the shot, rather than shying away from it or getting up his defenses or anything. He yelps, and then the suppressing fire starts to rain in, and-     Raha plants his boots, lifts up his ax, and- He's gone, in a cloud of red and dust and aether, suddenly barrelling across the sand and scrub to shoulder tackle Nova, and give her a swat with the flat of his ax for good measure. "Howdy." 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     The sudden disappearance of N'Raha from his original position and subsequent reappearance right near Nova is a bit of a surprise. But only a bit. Nova herself has the same move. She proves her reactions to be impressive as at the last moment she zigs to the side, avoiding the shoulder tackle. Then as the axe is swung towards her, she turns and twists her body to it just barely misses.     During the same motion evasive motion that Nova pulls off, she brings the end of her rifle around, swinging it towards N'Raha's head in an attempt to give him a bit of a tap with the butt. It's not a heavy blow though, as Nova remains somewhat defensive, jumping away from N'Raha to get a little distance.     Recovering and standing straight, Nova gives N'Raha a grin, "Hey." There's your pleasantries! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     If someone was going to list the people Raha has problems fighting against, so far it would have to be foxes and metaphorical foxes. Because as Nova avoids that attack and plonks him in the head, the strike rings at his helmet, blonging at his ears and making him stagger and take some... very unsteady steps. He shakes out his ears, or tries to, forced to lift up his visor to try and get his bearings. He stammers a bit, and hikes up the ax again, lashing out with a cry.     There's a wash of energy, several axe shaped blasts of irritating aether sweeping out from the head, peppering at Nova's location. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga was a tad bit late, but she is here, sitting right near the front, her staff across her lap and a steaming cup of tea in her hand in a nice porcelain cup. She's dressed in a long blue dress in a medieval style, made in light linen, a belt around her waist hung with charms, a small knife, and a leather pouch. She has a small blue flag in her other hand that reads, more or less, "Go Raha!" or some such. She waves it lightly! Maybe she'll be good luck. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     "Bye!"     Nova is still grinning as blue light washes over her body. Just as N'Raha unleashes his attack. The Ghost quickly disappears from view, moments before the axe blasts pepper her location. Unfortunately they hit nothing, as apparently Nova is no longer there.     For a short time, Nova is nowhere.     There's a muffled gunshot. A single round streaks towards N'Raha from the side. Unlike the earlier shots, this one is much more accurate and thus much more deadly.     The shot does highlight Nova's location for a moment, the air shimmering as her cloak is disturbed. The outline of Nova can be seen, rifle raised, head looking down the scope. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     All this dodging around, all these faints, and Raha is suddenly remembering why he does not enjoy fighting shinobi. Because they do this sort of thing all the damn time. It's even more evident when that blast SWATS into his side, denting the molded armor, and staggering him off balance. There's a...     Well. It's not a happy noise. A lion's roar escapes that visor, Raha's eyes starting to glow red in the dark of that helmet. But he can see her. She's got to plant her feet to properly aim and fire, and as the blast hits him, he's moving again. Much faster than anyone in his sort of armor ought to be. Who knows what it's made out of though. That axe comes around, and the catman... judges. No. She's moved. She has to have moved. And instead of a straight overhead swing, there's a wider, heavier chop, that sends him slightly off balance. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Now is not the time for fury, Raha! You must focus to predict what she will do!" Inga calls out her advice, hoping to help him keep his fury in check. There's time when a berserker is needed, and times when it's a bad idea to let yourself give in to that rage. Tea-sip. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     N'Raha apparently judges correctly. As the shimmer of Nova's cloak begins to fade, once more hiding her from view, N'Raha's axe comes swinging in. Nova had indeed tried to move to avoid it, but fails to move enough.     The edge of the axe slices into the Ghost.     Nova's suit manages to absorb some of the damage, keeping it from being a particularly bad blow. But the axe still manages to cut through to her skin, drawing blood. The hard hit throws off her concentration, Nova's cloak failing to reveal her once more. Quickly going defensive, Nova jumps away from N'Raha, starting to run away to gain some distance once more.     However, Nova does not expect the Miqo'te to simply let her do so. Which is why she left a little something behind to delay him as she retreated. The spherical Pulse Grenade rolls across the ground at N'Raha's feet. There's only moments to react before it unleashes a blast of destructive energy. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And the catman has exactly ZERO interest in losing Nova again. Which is why he sees the magitech device, considers things, and then charges right on through it, lowering his shoulder, and letting the concussive blast rattle his armor again because...     There's an aetheric noise as the smoke clears and the catman out of that heavier plate, shed down to chainmail and boots and rage in his eyes. The Odin's Fury is reaching him, and he's blistering to beat the snot out of Nova, it would seem.     And that's bad, because it's apparent to the psychic powers of the Ghost that the miqo'te's energy has shifted from a defense mien to something much more deadly. This could be a problem.     That ax comes around again, a straight overhand swipe downwards at Nova's postion, followed up by a skipping step and a massive cleave. "STOP RUNNING AND FIGHT ME, HYUR." 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Her opponent seems angry.     Good.     Nova is caught up to once more, the first swipe slashing into her back. Once more it cuts through her suit, drawing a line of blood. Nova cries out in pain. But even in her pain she's able to sense the follow up cleave. She raises her arm in time to catch the blow on her wrist armour. Her arm is still pushed to the side and she is sent flying a short distance by the power of the blow. But at least the axe blade didn't penetrate.     Nova bounces on the ground before twisting her body and skidding to a stop on her feet. There's some pain on her face, but she still manages a smirk as she raises her head to N'Raha, "Why? This is much more fun!" Her hand reaches down to her armored boot. In one swift move she pulls out a combat knife and sends it flying towards N'Raha, aimed for an opening in his armor.     Nova is then off and running again, making her way back towards the bridge that the two had started on. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Another decisive strike, and the Warrior of Light now has a dagger stuck in his shoulder. He angrily wrenches it free, blood spraying the sand, there's a moment when that right arm goes limp, but it's ONLY a moment as Raha's energy surges, and spikes and overflows. He's drawing Aether from somewhere, some deep well of pain and wrath that splits the Wash with his rage, the lion's roar nearly deafening. BUT.     The 200 Percent Angry is only going to take him so far. The rest he's having to do himself. Which is why he's charging right alongside Nova, that ax swinging up and around. There's a sudden, baleful rush of energy, as the head of that ax flashes over a dangerously lurid red, and it comes down right in Nova's path... followed by a massive flurry of follow up strikes, one after another, ghostly after images of his attack ringing out and blistering the surface of the bridge, if not the Ghost. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     As they reach the bridge, Nova actually throws away her rifle. She reaches up to grab the handle of her psi-blade. Pulled free, the sword's blade forms from psionic energy. Nova then spins around to face N'Raha as he makes that first swing.     Nova's psi-blade meets N'Raha's axe. Red clashes against blue. The two weapons separate, only for another strike to come in and the two to meet again. Nova ducks beneath the third blow, weaves around the fourth, brings her blade up again to meet the fifth. Nova's not the greatest swordsman around, but she's using her nimble nature well to make up for it.     But each strike is forcing Nova back a step. And soon enough she's up at the edge of the bridge.     The two weapons clash again, getting locked into a struggle. The strain on Nova's face is easily noticeable. But she's grinning through it.     Is it enjoyment?     Or has N'Raha followed her to where she wanted him?     Nova suddenly gives in to the struggle, letting N'Raha's axe slide down and off her blade. It just barely misses her as she slips around the Miqo'te. Psychic energy flares up around her hand as she tries to place it against N'Raha's back. On contact, she unleashes the massive telekinetic burst. The close contact blast alone is enough to wrack N'Raha's body inside his armour. But the force can also send him flying off the bridge, adding the fall. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And that strike, it's a clear shot, right at the catman's vitals, N'raha's not even defending them... but as the psiblade comes in, there's a moment of clarity in the miqo'te's eyes, as he meets Nova's gaze. And if she'd look down... there's a glowing, horrible chain of energy linking the two around the midsection now. It's got them BOTH locked into place now, with no where left to go.     Raha's chest is a mangle of blood and chainmail, his chest shredded, blood seeping from the gaps in the armor. But he's not giving up just yet. "...NOT. YET."      His fangs click together, and he just leans forward and HEADBUTTS the trapped Ghost, following up with a straight strike with the shaft of his ax against her own chest. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova is shocked. Like. Visibly shocked. She had not expected N'Raha to be able to withstand that level of punishment. A close range telekinetic blast like that has shattered the limbs of lesser men in the past. Not only did N'Raha survive it, but he also held his ground against the force.     In her shock, Nova is caught off guard by the headbutt. She stumbles back, losing her grip on her weapon. The blue glow of the blade fades as the sword clatters to the ground. Nova looks open to the follow up attack.     But looks can be deceiving!     Nova manages to recover her senses in time. She twists her body at the last moment, the jab from the axe shaft grazing along her side. With one hand she grabs onto the weapon, pulling it further towards her to hopefully unbalance N'Raha.     Nova steps into the cat's space, other hand moving to grab his arm. She then plants her shoulder into him, twisting as she leverages all the psi-enhanced strength provided by her suit to try and lift N'Raha up into the air, over her, then slamming down into the ground. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's so much rage. So much fury in the cat's eyes, even as he watches Nova sway with the strike and come back at him with that throw. But this time there is no getting away. After all, he's got them leashed together, doesn't he.     The judo throw is enough, and the catman cracks his head against the bridge, going quite still. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga gasps, covering her eyes for a moment. She knows its the shrine, it will fix him, but... She moves down toward them anyway, pulling the knife from her belt and slicing into her arm, throwing her strongest blood magic healing spell toward him. Even if the shrine fixes him, the pain is very real. She doesn't want him to have to feel it any longer than necessary. Inga nods to Nova. "If you would like a healing boost as well, I can provide one. I don't...know how quickly the magic of this place works." 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova stumbles back after the throw, catching her breath and waiting to see if the cat can stand. He does not. Soon enough the fight horn sounds as Nova is declared the winner!     Nova takes in a deep breath, even as the Shrine's effects begin to reverse the serious injuries the two suffered. Turning to look at Inga as she offers healing, Nova shakes her head, "I'll be alright. It doesn't take too long."     Nova looks down at N'Raha, expecting him to recover soon enough. She grins, "Man, can you take a hit!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     between the energies from his seer and the Shrine it's not taking long for the miqo'te to recover. Those eyes snap open, and Raha's quickly struggling ot catch his breath again, tamping down the rush of adrenaline that's shoving its way out of his body now. He sits upwards, his armor fading away to a white beach shirt and board shorts. Very casual. "Hnnngggg.... that's what I'm here for, put myself between the bad things and other people." A wry grin, and then a wince. "You're slippery." His ears wilt a bit. Another loss. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods, and reaches a hand down to Raha. "Come on. I'll make you some catnip tea," she says. "Congratulations on your win," she says the Nova, then leans on her staff to make her exit. She was hoping there'd be more people she knew to talk to in the audience. Alas. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova walks over to collect her weapons. She does chuckle at N'Raha's compliment, "Well. That kind of is my job!"     Nova returns her rifle and sword to her back, then smile at Inga, "Thanks." Nova begins to walk towards the exit, saying in parting, "Good luck in the rest of your fights!" 
}}

6587/MECC: N'Raha vs Mortimer

2019-12-18T14:02:38Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/05/14 |Location=Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=First Round MECC action between Raha and Mortimer Balman |Cast of Characters=454, 819, 446, 7002..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/05/14
|Location=Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=First Round MECC action between Raha and Mortimer Balman
|Cast of Characters=454, 819, 446, 7002, 525
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      WELCOME BACK, TO THE STAGE OF HISTORY.      The arena is simplistic in design, with no real frills- just a big, flat floor made of metal and naugght else. Final Destination, no items, Catte only.      As the crowds settle in and the cameras turn toward the arena, Mortimer walks out of his side and starts making his way forward. The music.. Stalls, though, and shorts out. This causes Mort to pause briefly and look up toward the speakers. There's several moments of sound techs frantically scrambling before they finally getting things fixed, and then after a bit more anticipation..      (Music: Dezi Arnaz - Cuban Pete, I Love Lucy remix) There is finally an intro song. ...Clearly not the one that was intended judging by the old badger's confused face, but he shrugs it off and begins salsa dancing up to his side of the arena. He's actually pretty good, and follows the beat perfectly. Once he's in on his side, the music with slowly fade and the spotlights will turn toward where N'Raha is supposed to come in. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Let it never be said that N'Raha cannot make an entrance himself.     Not that he's going to make one tonight though. Or, you know do anything more than what he's set out to do. Unlike in previous years, this is not a hot blooded young kitten looking to show the world he had some claws. Hadsome bite to himself. No. Raha's faced the world already. Now this? This was just practice.     Though there's more than a little pagentry still involved here, as the catman stalks his way up to the platform. People might be used to seeing him in casual clothes or care free summer attire. Not tonight though. TOnight, he's out here in full plate, an armored long skirt sweeping past his thighs and calves. The metal glistens slickly red in the light of the stadium, gold and silver inlay along the contours showing keenly in the light. And in his hands, he's carring Bravura, one of the weapons of the Zodiac Braves.     He takes his place, and lifts his visor, looking to Mortimer, and then the crowd. "Come to face the Crimson Marvel, Balman?" 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      With promises of cake and entertainment, Sarracenia has made her way to their arena. And once she is here, the already frantic fight organizers figure she must be here to announce. And so, with some pushing and shoving and confused protests Sarracenia ends up in the announcer's booth. She finally explains that she is only here for cake, but they insist that since she is here she announce anyway. And since Sarracenia -does- love to hear herself talk...      "Welcome one and all to what promises to be a magnificent fight! I am the amazing Princess Sarracenia Sundew, and I will be bringing you all the action! Contestant number one is a fiery bagger from a post-apocalyptic world full of magical and dangerous creatures...!" More quietly. "...are you sure it is supposed to be bagger? I am fairly certain he is a badger of some kind..." Pause. "...Mortimer Balman! The Demonflame!"      "Contestant number two is a catman from a world known for its own crazy, nearly world-ending monsters! The Crimson Marvel, N'raha! He is also an expert at cooking and baking, and I would not be here if it were not for his promise of cake!" 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mortimer lets out a laugh at N'Raha's taunt. "I love the armor, lad! Very lovely aesthetics." He cracks his knuckles and grins a bit, as his eyes' sclera goes from white to black. "Let's see just how tough it really is." A big cloud of smoke is exhaled from his nose, and he rockets from his spot in the arena at beyond-human speed, closing the distance between him and the Light Warrior rapidly and looking to bring his fist right into the stomach region of N'Raha's armor. 

:'''{{#var:7002|Mikoto Shimizu (7002)}} has posed:''' This might be Mikoto's first time out into the multiverse as a whole, but the first time is literally being a massive tourney like this, is almost overwhelming!  So many people, so much going on, so many noises and so much /stuff to eat/.  However, with a little luck and effort, she managed to finally sit down in the seats, and with a little bit of pulled strings managed to get right behind the announcer's section.   The woman was young, probably a third or a fourth year in high school.  Short black hair with a small ponytail in the back.  Black eyes look out over the arena from a good section as she slurps on a big gulp full of local soda.  She also has a hot dog covered in cheese and other condiments.  Currently, she is wearing a dark green shirt, with a pair of black slacks.   When Raha comes out, she cheers; "Wooo!  Go, cake guy!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     That well muscled and contoured region of that armor. Why is it well muscled and contoured? Because it's fancy and magical, that's why.     The catman though, grins behind that viso, and raises the axe just enough to blunt that blow into that thick plate. There's a dull crunch-thud of Fist on Metal, and.... a laugh from Raha. "Not bad. You're not really trying to hit me yet though, are ya?" That laugh shifts into a lion's roar, the Miqo'te letting out his Inner Beast, tapping into the Warrior's Wrath. And then he plants his forehead against Mort's red eyes glaring through the armor. "My name is Raha, of the Clan N', Warrior of Light and Chosen of Hydaelyn. Face me with your true strength... Old Man."     And then that head rears back again and he headbutts Mort, before lening in and /swinging/ that Bravura. Aether streams from the blade, as he lashes out, not holding back. He doesn't have to, here, thankfully. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      "And Mr. Balman starts things off with a fast dash and a quick jab into N'raha's midsection! Even though it looks like that must have hurt, N'raha just laughs it off and accuses Mortimer of holding himself back! N'raha doesn't seem to be as he declares his name and titles before swinging his mighty weapon!"      Mikoto might recognize the voice of the announcer as the same spoiled princess who was rambling on about things on the radio only a few minutes ago. The princess though doesn't notice Mikoto. After all, Mikoto is behind her and Sarra is engrossed in both watching and announcing. 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mortimer presses his forehead back against the armored Miqo'te's and grins a sardonic, death's head sorta grin. And then his face gets smashed by the headbutt. "Hah..!" Mortimer spits out a mouthful of blood and a broken tooth. The axe is caught with his hands, because he's come in unarmed. Blood drips from his hands and hisses as it hits the floor, boiling so hot that it threatens to melt the stage a bit. Maybe damage that blade too, unless its magics give it protection.      The catman's weapon is thrown away and Morty pushes in, trying to deny N'Raha the use of his blade and slamming at his body with precise and vicious elbow and knee strikes, culminating in an effort to shoulder-check the Hero onto his ass so he can jump up and bring his elbow- which has for some reason, *caught fire*- down into N'Raha's armored faceplating. "Be careful what ya wish fer, son!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     This would not in fact be the first time someone has Wrassled N'raha. Even in the armor. Bravura, for its part, starts glowing as that damage is applied. But not like the 'oh I'm hot', no it's more like 'This Is A Magic Glow' glowy. The kind that hurts to hold after a while.     Not that Mort's grappling the business end of the Axe for long, of course. The Wrasslemon tries to bring Raha into the squared circle, kicking him across the arena and ELBOW DROPing his butt downwards.     But the catman catches that Elbow on his shoulder, fire and all, and stands up under his own power, lifting Mort's attack with him. Baleful red eyes glower out from under the visor, and the catman... grins. "HIT ME." The axe comes around again, and this time it's bringing fire. Likely Mort's own fire, along with another burst of Aether. "HRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!" He's swinging for the fences, if The Fences is also Mortimer's ribcage. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is late. She is fairly sure N'Raha will forgive her once he hears her explaination. You just don't leave in the middle of amputating then re-growing someone's finger, and you also probably shouldn't show up still covered in blood. Though, she suppose if that were appropriate anywhere, a fighting match would be once of those places. The said, she did take the time to change, and so arrives in a clean white sundress with a knee length skirt and v neckline, her similarly white hair neatly rebraided. Her brown leather belt is still worn by her waist, from which hangs a leather pouch and a seax knife. She leans on a oak-wood walking stick carved with runes to offset her limp somewhat as she comes to take her seat, eyes focused below. It just so happens that she takes a seat nearby Mikoto. She smiles lightly to the girl, then rest her staff over her legs. "I hear Raha made cake," she comments. "Oh, he's facing Mort today," she adds. She'll wave to them, if they ever happen to look her way. Which might end badly for either of them if they get distracted. She's none too worried though, N'Raha is singularly focused when it comes to combat. The Odin-fury makes sure of that. 

:'''{{#var:7002|Mikoto Shimizu (7002)}} has posed:''' Mikoto watches the fight with some interest, not that she knew what was going on or anything beyond 'guy with axe who is angry vs a giant badger who is also angry?'  She shouts again as bursts with Aether making a good show of it all.   Of course, this might shake the back of the announcer's seat.  She's not exactly /quiet/ either.   Then a staff-wielding woman sits next to her and talks about the cake.  Mikoto gives her a side eye and then speaks a bit less screaming. "Oh, you know the cake cat?  Also the badger I guess.  I don't know either of them, I just got told there is cake involved if I cheer for the cat." 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      It's only by the slimmest of margins that Mortimer is not neatly bisected by that strange magical axe. He's still hit by it and has a beautiful new bleeding cut across his chest, but it's not as bad as it could have been by a longshot. Even so, he huffs a bit and maintains his grin. "Yer better'n I expected, son! But then you *are* a hero, so you'd damned well better be, aye?" He starts hopping away from N'Raha, trying to get some distance between them; puffing out small balls of black flame that burst with a scream when they pop. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      "It is rarely a good idea to catch the blade portion of a bladed weapon, but Mortimer has done so! And it appears he has taken an injury as a result! But even with a deep cut on his hands his blood seems to be boiling! Literally! It seems like he might have lava for blood! He pushes the axe away and goes full fisticuffs, aiming vicious strikes all over N'raha's armored form! But N'Raha manages to deflect many of them and power through the rest! And with a huge wind-up he swings his axe like a really heavy baseball bat! But like some kind of berserker Mortimer takes a hit to the chest and grins! He does finally put some distance between them though, using haunted black flames to build that distance! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The balls explode into smoke and mist and haze and sulfur, obscuring the fight from the audience for a few long moments... before there's a howling mad noise in the middle of the ring.     Someone has charged right through the middle of all that garbage, and is leaping through the air. That somone is N'raha, and as Inga has said, the Odinsfury is here. angry, sickly red energy streams from the catman now, his armor rippling with aether as-     There's nothing fancy here, not at all. It's just a straight, flying, overhand strike that aims to split Mortimer in two. If not him, then likely the arena underneath him.     DBZ combat arenas, eat your heart out. 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      The axe comes down.. Leaving a vicious gash over Mortimer's face- he's yet again, just managed to move out of the Miqo'te's way before he can do some real serious heavy damage. "Don't go into the angry place yet, Raha of Clan N'! Yer gonna need yer wits about, if you plan to beat old Morty in a duel!"      A few more hops back and Mort brings his hands together, almost like a prayer-position. "The restless spirit of Darkrai, feeding on all mortal sins and haunting our dreams!" Black symbols that look like crooked geometry form in the air, carving themselves in the atmosphere and dripping with blood that dissipates before it can stain the floor. Mort's own blood seems to be attracted to the symbols as they fall.. "Bloody Void Sound: Black Missile Hail!      And then the catman will find himself being aggressively peppered by missiles of shadow-flame that sprout of Mortimer's mane, which has tripled in size, and seem to home in on him. There's a LOT of them, but they are quite weak individually. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's lips thin into a severe line...then she bursts out laughing. "CAKE CAT," she laughs, holding her belly. This is incredibly funny to her for some reason. Not even she knows why. A few moments later she reaches up to wipe a tear from her eye, her chest still shaking with the giggles that remain. And the fact that he bribed people with cake to come cheer for him...she's looking forward to teasing him relentlessly. "Ja, I know them both. I do not know Mort (the badger person) very well, though," she answers. "Are you new to the multiverse?" she then inquires, pulling her eyes away from the fight in order to unhook her leather pouch from her belt and set it down on the seat beside her. She opens it up, and pulls out a teapot. It's steaming. A cup follows. "Tea?" she asks, ready to apparently reach into the pouch for another cup, presumably. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     More fire. More fire and more smoke and more WORDS. He's still talking, why is mort TALKING? There's a growling, hectic noise from the catman, as N'raha is peppered by bolts of heat and fire and flames, his armor absorbing some of the hits but not all of them. He can feel welts and burns forming under that armor...     And he doesn't care. He could not care less right now. Because now was the time. The catman howls a battle cry, and it would appear that The Dark Place is where Raha lives right now, because all of the arether and smoke and everything around Raha in the arena swirls around him in a crimson cyclone of wrath, before swirling out in a sudden aetheric burst. Raha raises his axe, and swings back down. But it's not just one axe that's swinging. It's the axes of his Ancestors, of Wariors long gone, all in a hail of steel and hatred. 

:'''{{#var:7002|Mikoto Shimizu (7002)}} has posed:''' "Yeah, something like that.  I'm from Japan if you couldn't tell.  I just moved to Mitakihara Town, trying to help with the rebuilding with a trust fund and charity fund stuff I have set up.  Technically my handler's deal with that stuff, I just give vague directions and don't get drawn into the details," she says with a sip from her big gulp. Then Raha scores a powerful hit on Mort, and she stands up with a cheer.  "WOOO!  THAT'S RIGHT CAKE CAT!" she says, with a giggle, wow this was fun!  Of course, she might almost be screaming in the princess' ear. Looking back towards Inga she tilts her head to the side, "Are you literally brewing tea in the middle of a crowded arena?" A pause, "Bitchin', I'll take a cup," she says sucking down the soda to have just tea ready. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      "Somehow N'Raha just charges through those fireballs, barely getting a scratch! It must be getting hot in all of that plate armor, though! And this fight is certainly getting the crowd worked up! I thought the walls of the booth were going to fall down there for a moment! N'Raha makes a vicious overhead swing and Mortimer has another new berserker gash to add to his scar collection! But he isn't going to just take that lying down! With what sounds like the makings of a spell, Mortimer conjures...well, it does not seem as bad as I was expecting for something that required an encantation. But, it looks like those haunted flames might linger for a while! But with a beastial howl N'Raha swings his axe around his head, gathering energies and...his mighty swing is joined by numerous spirit axes! These two seem practically made to fight each other!" 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mort's still talking.. Because it's driving N'Raha madder. Mad men make mistakes. And- in theory- Mort has gotten the boy to make one. He's put everything into his assault, and Mort.. Mortimer takes a hit like a champ. He catches the axe again, as it comes down. The magic is burning his hands but he doesn't appear to care, trying to hold as much of the force as possible.      And then the axe slips, the magic and aetheric burst pushing it out of his grasp and allowing it to embed itself into his chest.. But something's odd, here. It's *stopped.* It's gotten *stuck*, directly into Mortimer's sternum. His body is shaking from concentration and focus, as if somehow he's actively resisting the weapon's urge to cleave through and hit his vital organs. With no small amount of effort, the old man pulls the axe out of his chest... Flames and smoke trailing from his mouth as he pushes the Light Warrior back. His breastbone is actually visible to the naked eye, past all the blood, and it's splintered and cracked in several places, with a deep indent that any doctor could tell you- that damn near went THROUGH him.      But, Mortimer is still standing, and sucking in air. His flames start burning more of a 'normal' color, tinged with only hints of wraithly power. "Burn." Is all he says in response to this terrible cleave filled with ancestral power, looks like he's going for broke as well. And when he goes for broke.. He REALLY goes for it. His stomach distends as flames build up, and then it quickly flattens and presses inward- which looks horrifyingly painful given the chest wound, and it totally is- and then comes the deluge.      A wall of flames from the depths of his belly that seems like it never ends. Highly compressed and focused, it sprays at N'Raha like the breath of some ancient dragon from stories of yore. The heat is of such intensity that it threatens not only to cook him, but to melt the armor he wears until it entombs him in his own protective shell. This lasts for several moments. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' A lot of those words get a quizical look from the white-haired woman. She at least knows where Japan is, now. She thinks she has even been there at some point. She does know she enjoys the food. "Ah, well. Welcome I suppose. I am Inga Freyjasdottir," she says, extending a hand--the one not holding tea. Her eyes do keep straying to the fight, and when Raha scores a that hit she deigns to raise her voice and shout down. "Well done, Raha! May Thor lend you his strength!" she cries, then adds, slightly awkwardly in Mort's direction, "...you are also doing well, Mort!" Inga clears her throat and looks back to Mikoto. "Well, no, I am not. That would be ridiculous. It's already brewed," she says, straight-faced, and pulls another porcelaine teacup from the bag that is absolutely bigger on the inside. She pours a cup and hands it over. It is a very nice high-mountain Taiwanese oolong. Inga looks back to the fight, glancing brieftly toward the announcer with a chuckle. "What is a 'handler'?" she has to ask. That explaination was not much of an explaination at all to Inga, for now she has even more questions. 

:'''{{#var:7002|Mikoto Shimizu (7002)}} has posed:''' Mikoto looks at the hand and then back at her for a moment.  It doesn't dawn on her what is going on, before she goes, "Oh right, handshake...like the American's do right?" she asks, and takes the hand gingerly and gives it a shake.   Taking a cup she sips it, "Huh!  Actual tea!" she takes another sip, while Raha gets his crap pushed in, but still survives.  "Huh...looks like the Beaver is gonna lose it." "It's someone paid money to handle the day to day stuff for me because I'm still technically in school.  I inherited my dad's finances after..." she pauses, and takes another sip, "He passed.  An accident with my family, I was off studying." "HEY CAKE CAT!  WINNNNNN!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     That blow comes in. Raha can see it. He can feel it coming, his bones ache for the hit, his blood sings. This is joy. This is pure bliss, this moment right here.     But as Mort reels back, summons up that Dragon's Breath, the catman just howls his own fury and noise right back at him.     H O L M G A N G     A hand lashes out, a magical energy leaping from the miqo'te to Mortimer, binding the two, lashing them together, and N'raha stands directly in the path of those flames, his armor scorching... but in that moment, Mortimer will know that N'raha will not die, will not be moved from this spot. Their fates are now intertwined.     The flames and fire and smoke clear, and there stands N'raha, his red armor blackned, but that axe blistering bright, white aether steaming from the blade. "YOU. WILL. NOT. DEFEAT. ME."     The axe swirls, and white shards of magic embed everything around N'raha. 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mortimer blinks at the Light Warrior's power, staring blankly for a few moments as N'Raha simply TANKS his flames. "Well.. Fuck." And then the catman roars his defiance, and the old badger tries to leap out of the way of that powerful and aggressive strike. NOPE, DO NOT WANT.      It still hits Mort, right in the leg. And the bite is deep indeed, blood gushing out and ruining the pants and breaking his leg bone almost in half, making the old man fall to the floor.      Panting heavily, Mort looks up from the ground. "Still.. Still got some fight in me yet, sparky..!" More balls of shadow-fire are puffed out of his mouth, these don't scream too loudly anymore, though. He is definitely on his last leg, though. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      "That wraith-powered axe swing lodges itself firmly in Mortimer's chest!" Pause. "...VERY firmly. Somehow it did not cleave dangerously deeply, but it still takes visible effort on Mortimer's part to pull it free! It must have really hurt, because the badger's ghostly flames seem to have lost their otherworldly essence! But that doesn't reduce their tempurature at all! And...is he part dragon?! With an impossibly deep breath, Mortimer unleashes a veritable river of flames! It flows for quite a while! N'Raha has to be a deep fried kitty after that! But somehow...the cake cat is still going! He roars again and...he's used magic to link himself and Mortimer? He twirls his axe and shards of piercing magic scatter about! If these safety barriers weren't here, the crowd would be in danger!!"      Sarracenia is on her feet at this point, with her face pressed against the window of the press box. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Normal people would be hesitant to take more blows. Would be hesitant to shift into a less damaging position. Something more strategicly advantageous. Where he's not right next to the On Fire And Burning Badger.     Raha is far from any of those mindsets right now, and in fact cannot move, so bound by Fate as he is with Mortimer.     not that he'd want to move. His body is hurt and battered and flagging, his blood is starting to leave his body, and all he should be doing is trying to disengage.     Raha's axe moves on its own accord, seemingly, the catman's body willing him to move despite himself. Rage boils through his veins, and he staggers up to his feet through the flames. The axe moves, and Raha with it. A staggeringly steep swing across Mort's midsection again.     "FALL." The lion's roar shakes the stands. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga laughs lightly. "I'm sorry, yes. I was taught by an american to do it, now it's habit," she says, then looking back to the fight. She chews the inside of her lip. Mort is full of fire and she can smell the burned fur from here. It raises goosebumps on her arms. "At least, with the fight being here, I don't have to worry about putting them back together," she sighs. "Mort is very powerful...so is Raha. But Raha is also very tough. He can take a lot of damage and recover relatively quickly. We shall see..." then , she shouts. "The fury of Odin runs though you, but also let his cunning! Do not lose yourself entirely Raha!" Back to Mikoto. She sips her tea. "Ah...yes, money is considerably more complicated these days. I don't like it." she states. "I am sorry, for your family, however," she says, giving her a sympathetic glance. Cake Cat. Honestly. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      "It is coming down to the wire! It looks like both fighters are tired and pushing themselves to the limits! Mortimer might be a berserker, but N'Raha seems to have devolved into full on demon warrior! The rage of battle seems to be driving him onward with sheer willpower and stubborness! Those magic shards really hit hard, and Mortimer is not looking too good! And it looks like even his fire is losing steam! But N'Raha isn't doing so well either! It looks like he meant to put more into his swing, but fatigue is finally catching up with him! This could be the final exchange! 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      The swing is not quite so steep as Raha would have liked, owing to Mortimer desperately rolling out of the way. Mostly.. The axe comes across his back this time. "GUH!" And yet.. Despite the massive amounts of bloodloss and damage, the old man manages to roll away and up onto his feet. Mostly. More like onto one knee, the leg that isn't currently wrecked. He's gasping for air at this point. Raha has done colossal amounts of damage. "Why dont'cha.. Come over here and.. MAKE ME?!"      Everything hurts everywhere. Literally everything everywhere. Gasping for whatever air he can find, Mortimer opens his mouth impossibly wide and begins expelling another horrid gout of flames at Raha. This one is far less focused.. A mere flamethrower compared to dragon's breath from before. Still fire, though. 

:'''{{#var:7002|Mikoto Shimizu (7002)}} has posed:''' "Ah...makes sense then.  Mostly it's a bow and proper greetings for me, being from Japan.  Though I learned a lot about the American way in my English classes," She shrugs.   "Money makes the world go round, always has.  Doesn't matter the age you're from.  It's only complicated if you make it complicated, other than that...if you have enough of it you can pay someone else to be complicated for you." Though when it comes to her family, she just kinda...nods once.  Pressing on to the match and cheering again.  "Holy crap, this is down to the wire." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     But ever and always, the Holmgang connects the two now, as Raha just staggers alongside Mortimer, grinning the whole while. and it's clear that he's grinning because somewhere in the arena his hlemet has fallen. That long shaggy ponytail of his is scorched and matted with blood, his face is soot covered... but still grinning grimly and madly.     Raha's head lols to the side a bit, as he hoists up his axe in both hands. "Time to rest, old man."     And this swing, is much like the first. Hard, and heavy, and straight forward. No more aether. He hasn't got it left in him. 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      And Mortimer goes down.. Though judging from the impact, that only just barely did the job! 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      "Mortimer manages to avoid the worst of the swing, and unleashes another gout of flame! Somehow N'Raha and his magic armor both weather even this, and with a very straightforward yet powerful swing the battle is finally over! It looks like the old fire badger just couldn't hold out anymore. N'Raha is the winner! Which means we can finally have some cake! Well done, both of you!"      With the fight finally over, Sarracenia emerges from the announcer's booth and makes her way down toward the arena floor. "And now for cake~" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods. "True enough," she says, not wanting to think about money now. She never entirely lacked for it, and now she doesn't at all...but she doesn't want to think about why. When Raha's helmet falls, she winces and leans forward, visibly upset for a moment before she can remind herself that he will be fine due to the nature of this place. She is also absolutely going to scold him for calling Mort an old man. She's been called old FAR too often lately and is feeling prickly on the subject. Inga gasps as Raha lands another hit and Mort falls, Raha being declared the victor. She lets out an ululating victory howl. She can see it now, what he must have been like in that gladitorial arena. It comes naturally. Indeed, it must be nostalgic. He clearly enjoys it. Inga finishes her tea and simply drops the cup and the teapot into her bag before pushes herself to her feet with aid of her walking stick, moving to make her way to the field with a fierce smile for Raha. She hopes he's in control enough that she doesn't need to whammy him to calm him down! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha... for his part, staggers on his feet. He's flagging. He's wavering. But he's still standing.     And the little bit of his mind that's still working commands him. You are the victor. Raha. You won. Act like it.     He shifts, raises his axe to the sky, and roaaaaars.... before falling down to a knee.     ...ow. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga gets there in time to put her arm out to Raha as she drops to a knee. "Raha," she says, a little breathlessly. "Well fought. How long does it take for the enchantment of this place to take care of your wounds? Should I heal you and Mort?" she asks. If Mort is conscious, she flashes him a smile. "That was very impressive, Mort. I'd say that was a very close fight. Well done." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha is already 'out of his armor', as it vanishes in a cloud of aether and digital mess. He's left in his summer shirt and shorts and sandals, his wounds already sealing themseves up. "I'll be fine, Inga, thank you though." He takes her hand, though, and squeezes it. He's not in a hurry to get up. "I mean, I'll heal pretty quick, but this takes it out of you, that's for sure." 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mort is actually not conscious at all until carried out of the arena by his butlerfree, and subsequently revived by the Shrine's powers. "Nuugh.. Ahh. Ow." Everything growing back in is painful. "Gwahahahaha!" A coarse and harsh laugh as ever, and Mort claps Raha on the shoulder. "Good fight, lad. Almost had ya! But you got me. Now I heard there was something about... Cake?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head, looking incredibly amused and bright-eyed. "I would also like cake, Raha," she tells him. The look in her eye will tell him how much she is going to tease him. Cake cat he will be. Forever. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Oh gods."     Raha rubs his face, and looks up. The Princess, The Badger, the Seer and the Witch all want cake.     "...Fine I'll make cake." 
}}

6515/The Stage is Set ft Inga and Raha

2019-12-18T13:58:32Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/05/02 |Location=Raha's House, The Mist |Synopsis=Raha and Inga get cozy and figure things out ahead of the Warrior of Light's MECC fight. |Cas..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/05/02
|Location=Raha's House, The Mist
|Synopsis=Raha and Inga get cozy and figure things out ahead of the Warrior of Light's MECC fight.
|Cast of Characters=819, 525
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman is frowning a little bit today in his house on the beach. The multiversal channels for radio are nattering away on the nearby cabinet reciever, and the Warrior of Light is busy pushing a finger at his Tomestone, slowly going through data and files. It's a rare bit of conentration for N'raha, at least outside of direct combat. His ears are flicked back and his tail swishes against the back of the large plush Fat Cat cushion he's sitting on. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' It is clearly Inga's turn to bring food, and so she shows up at the door with a brown paper bag in hand, looking slightly nervous. She raises her hand to knock, hesitates, takes a deep breath, then knocks hesitantly before opening the door to peek her head inside. She looks like she's come almost straight from her workroom, still wearing a herb smeared apron over her wool dress that is now /far/ too warm for the day's temperature. Her hair is braided per usual, a silk handkerchief tied around her head to further keep her hair out of her way. The bag is clearly from a take-away however. "Raha?" she asks, stepping inside once she sees him propped against the ridiculous (adorable) cushion, looking at his tablet-thingy and frowning. "I've brought food....what's the matter?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha looks up a bit as the door opens. His retainers aren't going to just let anyone in, so, well. It's someone trusted.     And much more so, as he sees who it is. The concentration fades a bit, and he smiles happily. "Oh. Hey. I was just... uh."     He holds up the tablet, where Inga will see the MECC information across the screen. "Just looking at the competition here, at least. Don't want to get into these things blind."     His ears perk a bit. "You look cute. Warm though. Did you want to get something lighter? I've got some stuff downstairs." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sees /something/ on the screen. Inga still can't read. She gives Raha a look. "Uh huh...oh, yes, everyone is talking about it--something about theme music. I haven't the slightest," she says with a shrug, moving inside to place the bag down on a table. "I've brought you the baked fish from the Bar and Grill--I ended up there. Saw Staren and a young man that's new to the multiverse," she explains. She goes completely pink when he says she looks cute. She wrinkles her nose and looks down at herself, grumbling that he needs to get his vision checked. She sighs. "Yes, I went straight from home to the restaurant, to here. Much warmer here," she admits. She's already developing a sheen. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman's eyes crinkle a bit both at the cute little blush, and also the promise of foooooood. He rises up from the Fat Cat and shuffles over towards the table, his tail swishing past Inga's calves as he goes. "Oooooh. I like their fish and taters. It's very crisp." Though he's not stopping to get food. Instead he's heading for one of the lockers against the wall. Notably, it's the locker of one of his retainers, the short human girl. "I think Miss Bitter's uniforms might do, actually." He tosses a bundle of clothes over to the Seer. They're red and white and black. Maelstrom colors, and light enough for working by the sea in the spring, at least. "If she complains, I'll pull rank." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks like she doesn't know what to make of being tail-whapped, and looks about as flummoxed when he places clothes into her arms. She presses her lips together sceptically, but heads toward the bathroom to change none-the-less. "I'll clean up a little..." The water runs for a while, and Inga takes her time changing. Indeed, many minutes pass, and she still hasn't returned from the bathroom. There are sounds of exasperation coming from inside, so clearly she's still in there. 5r More minutes pass...still no Inga. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha huffs a bit at Inga's skepticism, but smiles as she shuffles into the bathroom. "Don't worry, there's plenty of food. Thank you, by the way!" He shuffles around to take a piece of fried fish, bting, and then regretting it, trying to reverse blow and cool it off for a long moment or two, before finally being able to chew and then swallow.     Though, it becomes clear that there's something wrong. Not with the fish, the fish is amazing, but with Inga. He steps over to the bathroom, leans against the wall next to the door, and murmurs. "You okay in there?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "I can't wear this!" she complains through the door. If he thought about it perhaps, he'd realize he'd never seen her in anything shorter than calf-length, and even that was pretty rare. She opens the door just enough to glare at him. "Are you /trying/ to embarrass me/?" she demands, as if she might think this is some kind of cruel joke. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It takes a moment or two.     And then Raha's eyes go wide. "Oh. OH! ...Right hold on."     She slinks back over to the locker again, This time it's a deeper dive into Miss Bitter's clothing, and then... And after a moment, he comes back out with... what appears to be a long sky blue sun dress. "Here, sorry, I forgot. Please forgive me!" A plaintive look, as he hands the cotton dress through the slit. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga takes the dress. She returns from out of the bathroom a few moments later, red in the face and look decidedly unhappy. She places the other clothes in his arms and limps back to the main room without a word. She starts making tea, avoiding eye contact. "It's...fine," she says finally. "I realize people think I am old fashioned but I am just...not comfortable," she explains quietly. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha takes the clothes... and then frowns a bit at the amount of blushing and grump that Inga is presenting. He takes a breath... and then places theclothes back on the table, moving to squat down next to his Seer. "Than you do not have to wear it, Inga. And I don't..."     A long breath. "I'm not sure what we're going to be. But I do know I much prefer beign able to make you happy and comfortable, rather than pretty and miserable." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga takes a deep breath, and seems to deflate as she lets it out, the anger and embarrassment flooding out of her. "I'm sorry," she says, leaning toward him slightly. "It has just...it has been a while...and even before..." she sighs. "I am not used to people looking at me in that way," she explains. "I do not mean to be difficult." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A long, slow sigh, and as Inga leans over, Raha returns the motion, a very feline little headbutt with his maybe girlfriend. "Mmmh. It's fine. Want me to go and let you change again? I can finish up the tea?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "No, this is fine," she says. She's comfortable in the sundress. It certainly shows a lot more skin than what she wears at home--but it's COLD at home, almost all the time. Inga lets out a soft laugh at the feline headbutt, and reaching up to gently stroke his ears in the way that seems to melt all cats. "So, your match. Are you nervous?" she asks, ready to change the subject. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a huff of breath from Raha, who does in fact melt a little bit at the touches to his ears, and then lets out a murmur. "Still setting them up. But... yeah, nervous. There's some heavier hitters on the list. I've... well. We've seen what Kord can do, at least."     He leans against the cabinet next to Inga, but keeps himself in reach of that hand. "The rest I'm still learning about." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga gently pulls him a little closer. "Mmm...there's certainly some powerful people in the multiverse. Worry not, you are one of them. You will do well," she assures him. "You are one of the fiercest warriors I have ever known--and I have known many." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It's a moment as Raha realizes he's being hugged like that, and his face squishes a little bit against Inga's chest. A little moment as he mmmmhs, and then that lion's purr starts in his own chest. "Mmmmmm I'm happy to know that I can stack up against the warriors of eld, dear seer."     He lifts his head, and noseboops Inga again, affectionately, before trying to step back and get a cup of tea. "I am... I'm okay with that, then." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga laughs softly. "The warriors I knew back then...they would have been amazed to see some of the people here. You'd seem like gods," she replies, letting him go to finish the tea. "Speaking of powerful people...you seemed pretty on edge when we were in the North talking to those ghosts," she begins. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's teeth grit a little bit as he takes the tea cup and siiiiips. Though, It's hard to be hangry when you're enjoying some lovely lavender ginger tea. "Hnnnrrmf. They were godlings. The energies and aethers they were putting off just... just made my teeth rattle." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sips her own tea thoughtfully. "How is it different from being around me?" she asks. "My power comes from the divine. Do I make your teeth rattle?" she asks. She doesn't seem put-off or anything, just curious. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Yes, Inga, I'm aware, but you're not just...woooosh with it." Raha huffs and puffs a little bit, and makes a little burst with his hand right beetween his eyes where that Solar mark flared up. "You're not there being all 'I'm a god, please pay attention to me." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga chuckles, shaking her head. "No, I am not all woooosh with it. I am not exactly above using my abilities when needed though. Sometimes you have to play on people's expectations to get the desires result. I think that is all they were doing. I understand, with the way things are in your world that it puts you on edge," she responds. "Generally, I fade to the background however," she adds, then huffs. "....They called me an old woman." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha, for his part, manages to wilt a little bit at that. "Yes, I suppose I am more than a little biased against people trying to control others in that way.... even if they weren't doing it directly like they do back home."     A beat. "Also you're not old." Sip. "Well. Not physically." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods in understanding. "It is not quite the same, but I understand," she says, a little worried that someday she'll do something he disapproves of. Or that she'd already probably done plenty of things he disapproved of. Gods, how she wishes they could just give this awkward phase a skip. She smiles as she lifts her tea to her lips. "No, not physically. I'm only several months old, physically," she laughs. "Or something like that. I don't understand how it all works," she says with a slight roll of her eyes. Inga clears her throat. She has a question. "Did you uh....did you tell Staren what happened with...with Harry?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a huff. "I mean, not even with you dying on occasion." He waves a hand and then goes into a full sulky squat next to Inga, his tail swish swishing under the cradenza.     That said though, his ears do perk a bit. "Staren? No? I do't think I did. But I think he's... pretty smart. Actually, that's all I think he is. Brains and no sense to use them, frankly." A quirk of an ear. "Did he mention something about Ser Dresden?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head, lips pursing. "He's been acting a little strange around me. I got the impression he knew...its no matter," she says, waving it off. He probably put the pieces together. It isn't as though she'd be angry if he did, anyway. "Don't worry about it," she says, placing a hand on his shoulder. 
}}

6488/A Link Between Universes

2019-12-18T13:54:50Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/04/26 |Location=Hyrule |Synopsis=Members of the Watch (and Janine) help Link put down a pack of Moblins and other baddies. |Cast of Characters..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/04/26
|Location=Hyrule
|Synopsis=Members of the Watch (and Janine) help Link put down a pack of Moblins and other baddies.
|Cast of Characters=6986, 819, 714, 446, 6895
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:6986|Link (6986)}} has posed:''' MIDDAY Ordon Forest, intersecting with Faron Woods The distress call went out recently. A group of Multiversal traders ended up in an unfamiliar medieval-esque world due to a new unification, and ended up waylaid by monsters. To keep their cargo moving, they need to be rescued. The trees are thick together near where the warpgate appears on the path, the bright sun shaded by their canopies, as birds nest and squirrels crack at nuts. The path underfoot is dirt, thin and undeveloped, as it seems many don't travel through these woods. The way forward is clear enough even with the fading path, though, with the sounds of cries and hviolence. Travelling towards the source of the disturbance, a clearing is reached, one that'd likely be frolicked in by rabbits and the aforementioned squirrels if not for the fact that a group of monsters was harassing a trio of humans (two men, one young and one old, and a young woman) dressed in clothes suited for journeying, their horses spooked off and their bags spilled across the ground. Food supplies are poked at by grubby monstrous hands, ripped from bags as they eat at fruit and jerkies, while others menace the trio personally. The monsters in question, throughout the clearing of trees and rocks, are small red-skinned creatures, about four and a half feet tall, hunched over with pig snouts and long billowy ears. Their eyes are a pure searing blue, and on the top-center of their bald heads is a single small drill-shaped horn. Their three-finger hands hold clubs and rusty cleaver-like blades, depending on what appears to be some sort of confusing pecking order, with the ones with the cleavers getting first pick at the food. There's eight of the goblin-like monsters in total, outnumbering the human trio. Probably a few too many, but it seems they had a conflict - two of the monsters are wounded, dripping black ichor from their wounds as disarmed swords lie on the ground from a conflict. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     If it was a rescue in a strange world for strange people in a strange time, that wounds like a Job For The Watch. Not that Raha was in charge of these things, to be sure, but he WAS a Warrior of Light and he WAS on call today, which means the catman is making his way with due haste to the scene. Though, not on a horse.     No, his companions today are a big green 8 foot tall emu-thing, and whoever else is coming in on the job. The catman steers the bird through the portal, out towards the clearing, and pulls up short at the sight of Not Goblins busy fussing over loot. A glance to the humans, who are cowering, and to the maybe nasty critters, and he yanks his axe down from his back where it was slung over his lovely wool sweater. "Ahoy there. Someone call for assistance?" He points the axe at the Bokoblins. "Was it you fellows? If it was, the help you need is figuring out table manners." 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' A distress call is usually a good way to score some brownie points with the local populace and Multiverse at large, so Sanary's arrived to save the day! Maybe. Also, to see if there's anything valuable in the merchants' cargo. PR is nice, but useful supplies is nicer. Spotting the Bokoblins and traders, the healer walks right up to them to try and get in between the two groups. "Hey, hey. Easy. Now what's going on here, and does someone need to get chopped up to get everyone to behave? Because..."      She glances towards N'raha, then the two groups. "... I dunno who's at fault here yet." To be fair, she didn't personally see the Bokoblins attacking anyone yet, and she's seen plenty of people attacking other people. Maybe it's not quite as it looks! 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      As the creatures menace the humans and root through their supplies, a small wooden aircraft much like an Osprey comes through the warpgate. Its flight path seems wobbly, and it only maintains flight for a short distance before crashing at the edge of the clearing. Despite being wooden, it holds up fairly well. But, one wing is broken in the crash, and a few moments later the tail end opens and a rather tall and regal young woman emerges...and she looks none-too-happy.      "Winston! How could you crash the Dyna?!" the girl demands of a squat looking piranha plant person who can be seen through the canopy of the aircraft, flailing and obviously apologizing profusely. The girl straightens her golden crown, then smooths out her billowing red gown before looking around.      She stops mid-smoothing motion as she sees the creatures and the humans. She stares a few moments before straightening up quickly and coughing politely. N'raha and Sanary arrive, and the princess makes her way over to stand with them. "The humans seem much more likely to be the ones who called for help. These red creatures outnumber them and are going through the supplies. But, I suppose we cannot assume..." she says to them before she reaches into her satchel and pulls out her DK Hammer.      She then steps forward as well and speaks in a clear, strong voice. "Greetings to all of you. I am Princess Sarracenia Sundew, Crown Princess of the Sundew Kingdom. And whichever of you are the aggressors I strongly suggest you drop any stolen supplies you have gathered and depart at once. We may yet be able to resolve this situation without any further injuries." She gives her long reddish-blonde hair a toss after she is done speaking, then levels a dangerous look at one of the cleaver-wielding Bokoblins. 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     Lilian's actual mission for the day had ended up falling through, so with a halfway mix of desire to stab something, and reluctance because otherwise it'd be a relaxation day, she'd pretty much thrown a dart at a board and decided to respond to it. Considering this sounded like some really penny ante stuff, she hadn't bothered to spend a lot of time suiting up for war, as much as recent events were still bothering her in the back of her mind.     It's almost coincidental that she shows up in this idyllic little fantasy countryside in the evening's red skirt and jumper over a white shirt, underlayer and tights, looking like she'd just gotten back from a casual (rich people's) dinner, albeit not even bothering to hoof it properly through the trail. With just her sword strapped over her back, she goes floating along and through the winding trail, leaning forward a little as if just the shift in her center of gravity were the impelling force, and much in keeping with her gliding like a ghost, phasing through the bends of oppressive brush completely, allowing not a twig nor bush to catch on her custom tailored clothes.     She shows up at the clearing from a slightly different angle, taking in the bokoblins a little flatly, and glancing down at the two wounded ones. "Infighting, huh? Not really very coordinated are they. Or smart. 'Monsters' might have been a misnomer. Maybe 'subhumans' would have been more accurate." She looks up. Then to Sanary. "Speaking of which, hey, you're alive. I win a bet for that. Good job."     Sarracenia then gets an eye-narrowing, partially open-mouthed gape. "Are . . . you serious? Whichever one is the aggressors? Isn't it obvious?" she says, gesturing sidelong at the armed goblin things. "They're the only ones that even have weapons! Jesus Christ. Step aside then." Lilian turns towards where she's gesturing, and then twists her hand sideways to point with two fingers. Intricate gold circles form in layers around her digits, turning against each other like the pieces of a tumbler and clicking together into a single, iconographically dense disc. The air before her fingertips ignites into a point of fizzing, crackling white light, like a tiny breach, and then fires a piercing ray of almost vibrating white-yellow energy, bleeding off into orange and red in its air wake. She aims to just put it straight through a bokoblin when its back is turned. 

:'''{{#var:6986|Link (6986)}} has posed:''' Besides food, the packs have silverware (which might be worth something to someone, maybe? probably not) and one of the pouches seems to carry their actual travel wealth for trading. The bokoblins don't care about that stuff, while the swords on the ground appear to have been one belonging to a bokoblin and one belonging to a human, indicating less infighting (though they probably do that anyways) and more that they got into a fight with the younger human male. What they do care about is interference and fresh meat. The bokoblins scream aloud, not quite speaking in a language but seeming to understand language based off their gestures as they glance to each other, their body language saying 'we should totally steal these guys' stuff'. To make things even less vague, the young woman pushed back against a rock shouts out. "Help! They attacked us!" And with everyone else deciding not to attack on the first swoop, the bokoblins get the attack of opportunity. One of the ones with the cleavers that Sarracennia glared at howls and charges at her, moving to swipe that cleaver into her, while two of the club carrying ones move to bother Sanary, trying to smash their clubs into her knees, trip her up, and then if they succeed, start bashing her in the head. Two of the cleaver ones go for N'raha... And one of those two soon has a hole in his chest, black ichor bleeding out of him until he completely dissipates into nothing. This panics the two injured ones, who start throwing rocks at Lilian, sharp and painful but likely not lethal unless they hit her in the head hard enough. The remaining cleaver one goes for N'raha, trying to cut through him, while distancing itself from Lilian, clearly afraid of her. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia hmphs at Lilian. "Of course it seems obvious. I was -trying- to give them a chance to surrender or retreat rather than simply obliterating creatures of unknown intelligence. I suppose if you had come across my piranha plant subjects in the position of the humans you would assume they were monsters rather than people and simply let them be killed? This is not your world, where the dangerous creatures are neatly defined in groups by traits and threat levels." She looks Lilian over suspiciously. "...aren't you a Paladin? I thought individual rights mattered at least -somewhat- to you guys."      Although she didn't attack first, Sarracenia did find it pretty obvious who the aggressors were and so is quite ready when that Bokoblin comes for her. "Ah well. Chance given and rejected." she says with a bit of a grin. Smashing things is always more fun anyway. She dances to the side as the cleaver is swung at her and in a spinning motion brings her DK Hammer around to strike at her assailant's back. Being hit with that hammer is akin to being hit by a truck at high speeds, and to top it off it causes a small explosion upon impact. It is more for show than anything, though. "If you all wish to meet a bandit's fate, so be it!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Wrong answer!" And as the Cleaver Boko dives in at him, the catman deliberately jumps from his Chocobo and into the strike of that hand axe, taking it on the shoulder of that sweater- which clangs with a rather un-sweater-like noise. A grin on his face, the energy of the attack boiling up in the Warrior. "Problem is... I like getting hit."     Raha's own axe comes around, the Bravura sweeping low, underneath Lilian's strike as he pairs up with the young Paladin, grinning. "It never hurts to be sure, Miss Wizard." His ears fold back against his head though, as aether billows off his frame, the 'sweater' phasing out of sight, replaced by lean looking chain and plate, the red metal gleaming when the sun strikes it. "COME ON THEN." He slams the axe against his armor, and roars at the remaining Bokoblins. "SLAKE YOUR HUNGER ON A SOUL STRONG ENOUGH TO REBEL AGAINST YOU, WORMS. I AM N'RAHA OF THANALAN, FACE ME." 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:'''      "Good seeing you, too." Sanary smirks as Lilian shows something vaguely resembling faith in her. She had to, if she had taken a bet for her survival!     Sarracenia's and Lilian's analysis of the situation has Sanary frowning a smidge. "Hey. Just because they're red and short doesn't mean they have to be the bad ones. Maybe there's some smart... Whatever they are back home, and people know that we'd give 'em a thrashing with the right poses. We don't know that yet."      Wishful thinking, but still. Sanary does pause to squint at the creatures, though. "Would it kill you to /not/ be... Doing everything you're doing /right now/, though? Seriously..."      No, they're definitely in the wrong here. The healer rubs her forehead and sighs lightly, but her luck is just so that she does that right when the club-wielders bash her knees in. "Gh... SON OF A BITCH YOU UNGRATEFUL ASSHOLES"      As she's yelling and cursing them out, she isn't actually trying to avoid any of it. She can't, what with her knees getting whacked. Instead, she simply tries powering through it, grabbing for the nearest Bokoblin's club or arm to swing whatever she gets a hold of as a weapon against the others. 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     "If there were a bunch of people huddled together and looking terrified while something called a 'piranha plant' was eating armed and their food, yeah, I would probably shoot it." Lilian replies to Sarracenia, flat and dispassionate. "Use that big princess brain of yours and ask yourself if I've killed humans before too."     Lilian twists her hand a few degrees clockwise with uncannily precise, stop-start micro motions, the gold circles compounding and collapsing on new layers with audible clicks. She then pushes her whole hand through the assembly until she is 'wearing' it aroudn her wrist, and then splays her hand, flicking all her fingers into the direction of the mob, and now spraying a dense scatter of buzzing gold bolts and atmospheric scattering into their ranks, leaving only a small safe zone for the humans in the middle as a continuous volley of blasts seemingly falls out of the top of the trees and rakes back and forth to catch bokoblins that run outside of the AOE.     They start throwing rocks at her head, and that is completely unacceptable. Maybe if it were something dignified like at least crossbow bolts, but Lilian stolidly refuses to be hit in the head with a dirty rock flung by a dirty goblin.     The sharp chunks are most of the way through the air before appears right next to the throwers, still floating a foot off the ground, now blocking out the sunlight on them, casting them into her shadow in an exceptionally ominous way.                 -----[stop]-----     "Piss off you horrid little shits." she hisses, then wheels around to kick one in the side of the head and smash him straight toward the other, and then from there, in line with a tree. She could have done that part normally, but she's wearing a skirt, and was having a tough time withholding the desire to be rude.                 -----[start]-----      

:'''{{#var:6986|Link (6986)}} has posed:''' The fighting begins. Sarracenia moves to respond to the one with the cleaver, swinging around to smash the Bokoblin in the back with the hammer. While it gets just in reach enough to slice into the princess, it's at the cost of literally being hammer-tossed far away into the trees. It doesn't return. (It's probably dead or unconscious.) Sanary is hit in the knees. It really hurts! But she forces her way through it, picking up one bokoblin by the club and swinging him into the other goblin. He screams. His buddy screams. Sanary might be screaming, who knows. These ones don't actually die because Sanary's just battering them around, but the one swung into is knocked unconscious, while the one in her hands is just flailing around harmlessly. N'raha's axe slices through the cleaver bokoblin harassing him and brings it down, bleeding black ichor heavily. Finishing it off is easy enough, though his scream as an interesting effect. As Lilian 'disappears' and reappears, and then timestop beats the bokoblins into each other, and smashes them into a tree, probably with permanent brain damage if they're not dead (added on to the permanent brain damage they were born with), the scream of battle cries out. None of the bokoblins are able to accept the challenge, or even really would want to. But a pair of giant, larger creatures (one red, and one blue) similar to them appear from the Faron side of the woods, flanked by two more red bokoblins on their farmost sides, one each. With their arms and ankles wrapped in white bandages, possessing animal-like heads with a pig nose at the end of their long snout and tall unicorn-like horns on their heads, these moblins are each wielding massive clubs. They seem somehow /dumber/ than the bokoblins, but they sure look stronger. Noticing all their allies dead or unconscious, one of the bokoblins moves to sound a horn, presumably to gather more allies and swarm the heroes. As this happens, the group can clearly hear the trotting of a horse coming, and a whoosh. For those capable of seeing fast-moving stuff (or stopping time for a quick look), an arrow flies through and dead-center takes out the hornblower, as a reddish-brown horse enters the clearing. A man in a green tunic with a matching cap rides towards the moblins, putting away his bow and drawing a sword off his back "Hyah!" The swordsman leaps off the horse, and comes sword down on the other bokoblin, piercing it through the chest and slaying it in seconds. With pointed ears, he's not human, exactly, but he sure is someone who knows what he's doing. Or, at least he did, until one of the moblins has faster reflexes then it has any right to, as the blue one moves to sweep at him with the club, forcin the blonde-haired warrior to roll backwards. The two moblins laugh and laugh, and then howl. ---- MINI BOSS: MOBLIN BROTHERS ---- Approaching together, as the swordsman moves to find his footing, keeping his sword at the ready, the club-wielding nasties move to swing their heavy clubs into the group, spinning around and bashing into them. They're stronger than the bokoblins, as is their skill, and those clubs could easily crush somebody to death with a few swings. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh. Oh well. N'raha has done something foolish then. The little ones run off, and the Big DAWGS come out. Well. "Okay, sure. I suppose I deserve that." The catman grumps a bit as he reaches up and slams the visor down on his helmet, leaving just glowing red eyes to peer out of the slots at the Moblins. "Alllllright, uh. I'll take the blue one, I guess?" He points up at the blue one, for effect, and hollars. "YOU! CHUNKY! DOWN HERE! I'M GONNA CHOP YOU OFF AT THE ANKLES!" And the catman bellows deeply, a Lion's Roar shaking the clearing, as he clears the entire distance to the blue Moblin in one burst of aether, leaping to shoulder tackle the big guy and try and bring him to the ground.     This, sadly, pushes him past the view of Link. His ears flick a bit in his helmet, as he charges. He can sense another person out here with Proper Steel, but he can't see him, not unless he takes his eyes off his foe. "Sanaray? Whoozat? Friend or foe?" 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' There is a lot of screaming going on. Fearful screaming, pained screaming, angry screaming. Sanary's section of the battlefield is made of screaming. And then there's something else to scream at when the larger creatures arrive. Sizing them up, Sanary's first instinct is to charge at the moblins, flailing bokoblin in tow, pausing only when a mysterious horse-fighter arrives and summarily eliminates the bokoblin reinforcements. "Just how many...? Oh, whatever. Don't get too cocky, sword guy!" Sanary calls out to the green swordsman as she starts spinning around with the bokoblin gripped firmly in her hands, releasing it after a few moments to fling it somewhere in the general direction of the moblins before nearly toppling over from dizziness. Once she's regained her footing, however, she finally brings out her axe to take some of the impact off the moblin's spinning swings, getting knocked back several yards and dragging her weapon across the ground to slow herself down. "Hard hitters, these ones... But they're probably even slower than me!" And then she rushes towards one of them, aiming to start chopping right into its legs. She swings hard rather than fast, and it's clear that she's comparing her own strength to theirs despite implying using speed as an advantage! 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia laughs at Lilian outright. "You failed to grasp the point entirely!" she mocks just before gasping as her dress is cut, along with the fair skin beneath. If that Bokoblin wasn't already sailing through the air, she'd smash it again! She hears Sanary and huffs softly. "Why do you think I gave them a chance to withdraw?" she asks, only to blink in astonishment as the Bokoblins after Lilian go flying for no apparent reason. "...I wonder if I could learn how to do that?" she muses to herself.      The big ones do give Sarracenia pause, and she stares for a moment before stepping back to let N'Raha do his attention grabbing thing. He seems so eager, after all. But, it seems only one might be distracted, and those clubs are -big-. She continues to step back until she hears that galloping. Her eyes sparkle a bit as she is treated to quite the heroic display...only to get smashed by the red moblin's club.      It is the princess's turn to go flying through the air this time, and she smashes into a tree before falling to the ground in a heap. It takes her a few moments to get up, but when she does she glares at the big red bully. "Alright...let us see how you like this!" she exlcaims as she reaches into her satchel and pulls out...a Bullet Bill! She tosses it upward, then with a powerful yet extremely precise swing of her hammer fires it toward the red moblin like an artillery shell from a massive cannon! The shark-faced bullet streaks through the air at a blinding speed, and explodes powerfully upon impact. 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     "Slower physically, or slower in the head?" Lilian quips off to Sanary before she's even looking at what's going on. She just can't help herself. She takes about one quarter of a look at Link, and then replies to N'Raha "Who cares? He's shooting the bad guys, so he's on our side for as much as it matters until there's no bad guys left to shoot." She dismisses the circular magical array around her wrist with an opposite flick of her hand, and once again, unthinkingly unable to help it, says "No. Because you're an absolute idiot." to Sarracenia. "And you didn't have one."     Big CHONK boyz are kind of more attention getting than shitty evil level 1 mook goblins though. N'Raha is performing a useful function in attention-getting tanking. Sanary is . . . being Sanary, honestly. Sarracenia is fighting the red one, so Lilian will taaaake . . . blue.     Giant fuckoff clubs being randomly swung around her way is kind of below the capacity of effort to payoff ratio for Lilian to go dramatically clashing with them and acrobatically showing off. Where they charge, she moves --is-- back and out of reach, letting the press of fighters with swords and axes and hammers take to the front lines, so that the *plebs* can do the dangerous work while she turns and floats up to the uppermost reaches of the trees, exploiting the melee AI and being a dick with open world !climbing mechanics.     She just barely maintains the presence of mind not to use fire. She almost thinks 'shame I didn't bring a gun', but honestly these beefy boys look a little too chungus to be plinking with a handgun. Instead, she channels a more significant amount of magic down the length of her extended arm, rolling back her sleeve and steadying it with the other hand, where crimson electricity streaked with black flickers and arcs down to the tip of a finger. She stays there charging up for several seconds, and then lets rip a gigantic bolt of annihilating lightning aimed through the blue one, both of those colours instead of a natural purple or blue. Despite ostensibly being a fuckmassive lightning bolt though, it doesn't set anything on fire. The leaves, brush, and wood is just turned to ash before it can burn. 

:'''{{#var:6986|Link (6986)}} has posed:''' N'raha moves to shoulder-check the big blue one with a burst of aether, trying to slam it to the ground. This works to knock it backwards, but as it's about to collapse to the ground, it slams its club down, using it as a support, falling to his knees. This does give an opening - for Link, to leap onto the moblin's back and stab into it. It roars out in pain, trying to shake Link off, as the Hylian, who N'Raha can probably see now, shouts out to him. "Go!" When it becomes clear N'raha's a warrior and not part of the caravan, though, which is presumably 'when he refuses to leave', Link cooperates, gesturing towards its legs for N'raha to strike. While they're doing that, Lilian sends off her huge lightning bolt at the blue one. Being actually smart unlike the moblin, Link kicks off the back, pulling out his sword and tumbling to the ground, as the lightning surges through the monster and leaves it stunned and almost dying. It swings one last time, going for N'raha and trying to swing at Lilian if he can reach (he can't, but he can smash into the tree a few times unless she goes further back). Sanary and Sarracenia both go for the red one. Sanary throws her bokoblin at him, stunning him long enough to draw her axe and close in, and starts cutting into its legs. This is very effective, until it raises a leg and moves to kick Sanary in the face with it. But while it's doing that... Sarracenia can counter attack with her bullet bill. She smashes it forward like an artillery shell with her hammer, which hits it in the back, stunning it and sending it toppling forward. It's in a daze, leaving it open to strike... After it falls probably on Sanary, unless she can roll out of the way. Woops. But if not stopped quickly, it'll get back up and start striking again, sweeping that club at Sarracenia. Both of the Moblin Brothers are heavily wounded and just need finishers. As Link tumbles back, he pulls out a strangely modern-looking radio, the type that they hand to you when you first unify with a world, and speaks into it while he catches his breath from nearly being part of the lightning shock. Looks like he's aware of everything, even if he might also be a native. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Moblin is taking time to go down, and that's just fine for the catman. N'raha's axe comes around on Link's call, before the lightning bolt fries the 'poor' think through the forehead and chest and all its amidsparts.     "Haaaaaa! Always nice to have a Thaumaturge around. COME ON CHUNKY, GET UP! YOU'RE A BIG BEEFY BOY CAN'T YOU GET UP?" When it's clear that the Big Beefy Bo is not in fact getting up, Raha sighs a bit, stands over the top of the creature, charges his aether, and...     For a guy in full plate, it's a surprisingly graceful move. He flipss up into the air, Bravura taking a moonlike arc over his frame, before the heavy, glowing blade is dropped right through the Moblin's neck, aiming to put a stop to its Beefy-ness. 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      "WHAT?!" Sarracenia's screech at Lilian's reply is ear-piercing at best. "You who are barely better than the monsters you fight dare to call me an idiot?! My POINT was that one should not be so completely bloodthirsty as to disregard the very REAL possibility that the creatures are people and should be given the opportunity to display intelligence -before- being killed like vermin! Suppose someone came to -your- world, misread a situation, and killed you and your friends and family without even bothering to question what was happening!! I AM THE IDIOT?! You do not even bother to use your brain at all, do you!! And to address an earlier point, you have displayed quite handily that a physical weapon is not the only weapon available!!"      Yes, the princess is quite livid, and her voice is in a very high octave at the moment. She harbors thoughts of including Lilian in the list of things to be attacked here today, but she at least has the presence of mind to wait until at least after these Moblins are defeated. And since she has plenty of rage to draw from at the moment, she charges in after her Bullet Bill strikes and leaps into the air. "HYAAAAAAH!!" With an angry, frustrated shout she somersaults before trying to hammer the red moblin in the middle of the back as he tries to get up. Even if he does get up in time, the hit still has quite a bit of force behind it and even causes a bit of a shockwave when the princess hits the ground, whether the Moblin is hit or not. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' "Yes! Wait." Sanary responds to Lilian before she can fully process what she said, narrowing her eye after a moment. Another moment later, and then she shoots an annoyed glance Lilian's way. "Hey!"      She waits about two seconds. If Lilian looks her way, Sanary flips her off. If not, Sanary's just sort of standing there waiting awkwardly. Perfect timing, then, for the red moblin to kick her right in the face. The healer goes tumbling backwards, grunting painfully with each tumble while she just sort of ragdolls around a bit from the pain of getting kicked right in the goddamn face. Luckily, there's no slight inclines nearby that keep her rolling for an entire minute, and she has enough time to start healing herself up, mending bones and closing up wounds while getting everything in her head rebalanced. And then the moblin starts coming right down at her. For once, Sanary's reactions are actually on point, and she manages to roll just enough that she doesn't get flattened! She grabs onto the moblin as it rises, latching onto it to weigh it down. Once she gets her bearings, meanwhile, she even gets right back into the fight, hacking away at its arm to try and take the entire thing right off! 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''     "I apologize." says Lilian to Sarracenia. "I was mistaken. You're a downright moron." dry as the Saraha.     One chunky boi is out of the picture but having a club that huge from a monster so strong swung at the tree she's chilling out in is pretty much guaranteed to fall over. She gets to her feet to jump out, but then the whole thing quakes and snaps like a tree, sending her tumbling out of its boughs, breaking her fall just before the ground with a tech float to spare her house clothes the fate of getting dirty, like she's been doing so far to the detriment of resolving things in any good time. She tilts her head to the radio when Link actually just pulls one out. "Oh? He speaks."     At hearing the names of the critters, she says "I feel like those should be backwards. Bokoblin is the bigger and harder to say name, so they should be like, 'advanced moblins'. Also, they attack in swarms, apparently, so moblin makes sense as a portmanteau of mob and goblin." Lilian continues, in the most completely asinine analysis possible at the moment, eventually taking some clear 'ha!' enjoyment at Sanary just getting the dig.     She does at least continue to contribute somewhat, instead of just being antagonistic. She checks to see where the ambushed travelers are, and if they're still anywhere nearby, directs them back to the trail they'd come out of, assuring them that she'll get their stuff later. Picking up both of the used swords from the ground, she tilts one back and hammer throws it at tremendous speed into the face of the rampaging bokoblin, and then at the tail end of the same spin, chucks the other one backhanded into the dying one's chest, flicking the full swordblades out one-two like throwing knives. 

:'''{{#var:6986|Link (6986)}} has posed:''' "Be quiet." Link speaks in Sarracenia's direction as he hears her screech, but is probably drowned out by it - he doesn't mean it rudely, he just doesn't want her to summon more monsters. Sarracenia and Sanary both keep up the pressure on the red moblin. As he tries to get up, the hammer smashes into his spine, causing a shockwave, which rattles through his bones. As he tries to clutch out and rise even so, his arm is cut off by Sanary's axe, putting him fully into shock, and sending him careening over as she strikes. He might still survive it, if it wasn't for the sword chucked into his chest. The body disintegrates, leaving behind only that arm, and the horn, which probably hascsome sort of value. The blue moblin is almost down, too. N'raha leaps upwards, plunging his axe into its neck, but it's thick enough he can't quite cut the monster's head off. It's Lilian's hammerthrown sword that does the finishing blow, impaling it in the face, calling it fall onto its back, and leaving behind only a horn when it ceases to exist. Link keeps his radio to his ear, as the merchants, not waiting to see if there's even /more/ reinforcement, head back to the warpgate as quickly as possible. Link appraises the group, and nods. "Thank you. Good work." He moves to start grabbing one of the bags they knocked back, considering whether or not he'll reply to Lilian about the blins. "I don't know who named them." He's kind of quiet. And has yet to introduce himself, too, as he sheathes his sword, and calls over his horse with a whistle of his fingers to load the bags onto her. But it's going to take some time to gather everything, so he's not leaving just yet. In fact, curious, he asks a question. "Who...are you?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Bravura wigles a little bit in the neckly regions of the Moblin, doing it's best to decpaitate, but, well. Some things are tough. The sword pops the CHONK the rest of the way though, and as it evaporate into smoke, the catman hrmphs. "Well well well. Voidkin even in other worlds."     He sighs, and then turns a bit to face Sanary and the others. A moment... and then the armor is gone once again, replaced in a flash of aether with his sweater and jeans and that very Dadcatte outfit again. "Right, Hi. I'm N'raha of Thanalan. You can call me Raha." He smiles, his ponytail swishing a bit along with his tail as he shuffles over to Link and holds out his hand. "Always nice to see a fellow warrior." A nod over to the 'healer' with her Axe. "That's Sanary. She's okay."     A /look/ at The Princess. "And that's Princess Sarracenia. She's pretty okay too."     A look at Lilian. "I don't know her though." 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' Sanary huffs and puffs angrily as that moblin finally goes down, landing on the ground where it had been with a thud. Taking note of the horn left behind, the healer wastes little time in grabbing the thing for VALUABLE LOOTING AND PILLAGING purposes. She'll probably try cooking with it later. "Everyone okay? Ugh. Big bastards hit harder than they look." She shakes her head as a green light pulses around it, focused on mending those wounds again while she waves at the others to try and gather them together for EASIER HEALING CLOUD. "Name's Sanary. Good to meet ya, horseguy." She smirks at N'raha's lack of commentary on Lilian. "She does teleporting magic shit. And calls people stupid." That gets a frown. SANARY WILL REMEMBER THAT. 

:'''{{#var:6895|Lilian Rook (6895)}} has posed:'''                 -----[stop]-----     "D-d-d-double kill." Lilian whispers to herself, as if afraid of someone hearing that even while time itself no longer has any grasp of her.     She then begins picking up scattered belongings and stuffing them into bags, taking her time with it since with both mobilins now turned to dust, she doesn't have to keep a combat stop, giving her a good few minutes to stuff packs and try to keep them orderly. It's a mixed effort. She's not good at luggage packing, and spends a while pushing stuff and huffing "How the hell did they even get this in there?!" Normally she has people to do that for her.                 -----[start]-----     Lilian has the bags, repacked as best, albeit somewhat roughly, as they can be; the food is a lost cause, unfortunately. When she got them or repacked them, who knows? Everyone was busy fighting. She holds them out to the rescued travelers, waiting for them to take the straps out of her hands.     "Given the looks of this place, Dame Commander Lilian Isabelle Rook, of the Unseen Order of the Scarlet Cross. Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'd shake hands or do a curtsy or something, but this is a lot of baggage." she says, delivering bags back. "Are a knight as well? Or some sort of wandering monster slayer? You certainly seem to know plenty about them. Could you answer me why they explode into smoke, actually?" 

:'''{{#var:446|Sarracenia (446)}} has posed:'''      Sarracenia relaxes a bit when it seems like Lilian apologizes. "Well, I am glad you-"      And then Lilian continues. Sarracenia is still for a long moment, forgetting everyone else. She doesn't even look toward N'Raha as he gives that look or Link as he asks who they are. She walks with purpose toward Lilian, stops directly in front of Lilian even while Lilian is holding all of those bags, pulls her long glove off...and firmly swats it across Lilian's face if she is not stopped. She isn't screaming anymore, but a burning anger is obvious in her expression. "I do not care who you are or what rank you might hold. No one speaks to me in such a way without repercussions." she says, her tone quiet and intense. "If you continue to do so, I will have no choice but to challenge you to a formal duel."      Her task done and her pride satisfied for the moment, she turns to Link and curtseys. "I am glad we could help." she says, then looks to the merchants. "If you need supplies for the journey home, I can provide some food and drink." 

:'''{{#var:6986|Link (6986)}} has posed:''' The travelers take their bags from Lilian, thank everyone profusely, and head back through the warpgate. They'll continue their expedition later. Lilian and Sarracenia's little tiff has Link all confused, but he's not getting involved in that, no way. Link nods to the introductions. He considers himself for a second, before pointing at himself. "Link. I'm..." Taking a moment to consider how to phrase it, he outright says it after a few seconds, a little anxiously. "I'm the prophesied hero of Hyrule." It's not bragging at all, because he seems almost ashamed in how he says it. However, he's distracted when Lilian introduces herself completely as some sort of knight, and shakes his head when she asks if he's one. "Swordsman. They explode because they're monsters." He pauses. And then shrugs. He doesn't know much else about it besides that, apparently. He seems kind of rural, honestly, based off his clothes and how dirty his boots are. And also the fact he doesn't do any respectful thing back to Sarracenia besides nod his head. 
}}

6404/FATE: The Truth Is Out There

2019-12-18T13:52:01Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/02/26 |Location=Moraby Drydocks, Eorzea |Synopsis=N'raha and Inga meet with a mysterious machinist and help put down a mysterious beast of mys..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/02/26
|Location=Moraby Drydocks, Eorzea
|Synopsis=N'raha and Inga meet with a mysterious machinist and help put down a mysterious beast of mystery.
|Cast of Characters=819, 525, 6926
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     FATE: The Truth Is Out There     Type: Notorious Monster     Location: Middle La Noscea     Threat: Medium     Middle La Noscea is abuzz following sightings of the Chupacabra-a dog-like creature rumored to drink the blood of virgins. Is the beast real, or just a legend!?     The call goes out from the Yellowjackets, and local adventurers are being asked to come to the Moraby Drydocks to help handle a frightening situation. Apparently a local porter has shrugged off the pursuit of a monstrously large jackal, who's even now bearing down on the entrances of the Drydocks, and threatening anyone who gets close.     For his part, Raha is sitting atop his chocobo at the gates of the Drydocks, just waiting for backup to arrive. He holds a spotting scope up to an eye, looking down into the valley where an angry bunch of mean looking feral doggos are milling about, busily chewing on some sheep that wandered away from their herd and too close to the pack. "I dunno Inga, I'm not sure if we just want to cast the big spells on them. We're awfully close to the town and we don't want to rile up... other things." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is seated behind N'Raha, looking out toward the Drydocks with a crease between her brow and a slight frown upon her lips. She motions for the scope and takes a look through it, watching the monsters thoughtfully. "I agree. I think perhaps we should try to lead them away before attacking," she comments, reaching over to give the chocobo a little pet. It's the strangest mount she's ever ridden, but it is actually pretty adorable... 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      The Yellowjackets' call did not go unheard. A second Miqo'te joins the pair of adventurers, silently standing behind them and peering over at the pack of jackals. Dressed in baggy cloth and wearing a face-concealing gas mask and goggled, she quietly stares, analyzing the distant beasts as she quite rudely eavesdrops on the conversation going on in front of her.      "Or set up traps and herd them into your minefield," Laina suddenly interjects. She simply stands behind the chocobo and watches the dogs, arms crossed. "Then finish off the survivors with magic. Minimize danger and maximize confusion for the beasts."      Laina spoke as if she had been with the pair the whole time, apparently latching onto them for the time being. Kinda creepy, to be honest... 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman in the green suit looks back a bit to Inga, and murmurs. "Yeah, that's a good idea. I'd rather not get too frisky too close to the drydocks, and..."     And then he's interrupted by a rather shady looking machinist or artificer or something. Someone cosplaying as a goblin at least. "Oh. Oh hello there. Nice to have some backup." He pokes himself in the chest. "I'm Raha, this is Inga. You've got traps then? Hmmmm." He pulls the reins on his lime green chocobo, who warks and shuffles a bit so he can look at the ladycat more easily. "That sounds promising too." A jerk of his head. "Lets at least head down there and say hello."     He dismounts the bird, and holds out a hand for the seer. "You know me, I'm here to stick between the danger and the smart people." 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      "Laina," comes the muffled response from the goblin wannabe. She reaches for her belt, pulling a few devious looking devices from her person and holding them up. At least one of these could be easily identified as a sort of leg trap. "I've got whatever you need."      She stands aside as the pair of adventurers dismount, scanning the terrain. "I could set something up while you two go say hello, if you'd like. Though there's always the option of running in guns and swords blazing, if that's what you prefer. I have a preference, but..." She shrugs. "I'm not picky." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga raises an eyebrow at his choice of words, then chuckles. Inga blinks and turns, looking toward the other Miqo'te in mild surprise. "Good day," she greets after Raha does the introductions. From the looks of her, she's definitly a mage of somekind. She wears a long cloak over a blue woolen dress, a staff tucked behind her in the saddle. "That sounds like a solid enough plan. We could attempt bait perhaps...I've a bit of raw meat in my pouch. That, or use the bird to herd them." "And what of this Chupacabra? I hear it is drawn to the blood of virgins. That might be more difficult." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:''' "Well I'm not sure it exists, frankly. And a big pack of wild dogs is trouble enough." The catman is going to leave the comments about virginity and Inga well enough alone. He's smarter than that.     Raha huffs a bit and conjures up the Bravura from his inventory, the massive axe slinging over his shoulder. "I'd appreciate that, Miss Laina. Just make sure you're not putting them right where we're going to walk. Though, I'm sure you know bombs and stuff, so." He taps his suit, the cloth somehow clanking a bit like armor. "Right, let's go say hi."     And with a jaunt and a flick of his tail, the catman starts to head down the road, whistling merrily in order to draw maximum attention. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga isn't sure why she couldn't keep riding, but dismounts with the offered hand and follows after N'raha, leaning on her staff to offset her limp. She generally stays a bit behind anyway. "So, is the idea to get them to chase you? Because I think perhaps I can make that work," she says, reaching into the pouch at her side. She pulls out a mysteriously fresh piece of raw goatmeat and just sort of....slaps it on Raha's shoulder. "Well, go and get them. I'll steer them toward the traps if there's any stragglers," she informs him with a smile, then waves bye bye. Inga then finds a good vantage point, ready to cast her spells. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      "Just don't step between the bushes," Laina retorts as she calmly walks towards the bushes in question, quickly distancing herself from the other Miqo'te and his friend.      Once she reaches her chosen area, she drops to one knee, keeping an eye on her current partners and their targets, counting the dogs in the pack. "Three leg traps... maybe two gas bombs?" she murmurs to herself. "I probably should have told them about these, but..." She glances at the pair in the distances again. "They'll be fine." The machinist goes about digging her holes and setting her traps. Once finished, she raises a hand, holding a thumb to the sky for the pair to see. They'd know where to lead the beasts if they needed her help. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Splat goes the meat, and Raha just looks to Inga with a flat sigh as the juices stain the suit a little bit. "Now I'm going to have to re-glamour this, you know." There's no actual grump in his voice though, just mild annoyance. That said, he gives a thumbs up to the girls, and approaches the dogs.     And it's as he's approaching that The Howl starts up. One of them has spotted the cat that smells like dinner, and there's some excited yipping and snarling from the pack. Raha slaps his chest with his fist and yells. "That's right. DINNER. Come on you lot, come and eat me, you know you want to!" He swings the axe down in a swat, energy raking from the swing to harass and harry the front of the pack... which all start to amble down the road at the Warrior of Light, who hrks. "Ah. Damn, I think... oh." Now that he's close, they're actually a lot more of them than he thought. "Right, uh." Another swing, this time to knock down one of the first dogs to make it to him, and he yells. "Ah geez, Inga! Laina!" He turns on his feet, tail bristling out as he throws the meat at the first of the pack, and starts running for Laina's trapped position. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga raises her staff once the pack starts after Raha, not intending to let him be overwhelmed. Who do you think she is?! A bolt of lightning strikes down from the cloudless sky above, smashing into a couple of the beasts to give Raha a little breathing room as he runs, steering the creatures toward where Laina had marked. Another bolt of lightning crashes down behind the pack, to keep them running instead of wandering off back toward the settlement. Once they're well away, they can stop worrying so much about collateral damage. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      Laina shakes her head as she watches the other Miqo'te work his magic. Well, she couldn't exactly say he wasn't doing what he said he was going to do. They were being led directly to her after all. Laina dropped to one knee at the edge of her trap zone, drawing a small revolver from her belt and resting it atop her thigh. She waited, patiently watching Raha close in on her position as Inga worked with him to herd the canines closer, until...      "Dive!" she shouted at the man, raising and aiming her gun directly at one of the bombs she had laid. The moment she was sure he was clear and she heard one of her leg traps snap, she fired her gun. There were two quick /BANG/ noises as her bombs exploded, filling the area with a sickly yellow-looking gas. It stuck to everything, the plants, her clothes, and more importantly, the jackals... who looked like they were not having a good time. The gas singed and burned their fur and skin, slowing the beasts down significantly. Laina backpedaled, slipping out of the gassed zone. "All yours!" she shouted at her companions. "Clean 'em up!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The first bolts of lighting smash into the back of the pack, as Raha leads them down a road into the underbrush where those traps are set up. And he wisely swings wide of the bushes, which is good.     The first lightning bolt swats at the back of the pack, there's anxious yelping and more movement, away from the bolts. And it's as he clears the first pack of bombs that the jackals start having a really rough day. It's just as bad as a Bane'd Bio, isn't it? The mez hits the pack who stagger and stop chasing Raha, milling about and trying to yip and roll around to get this awful thing to stop hurting them. One or two start to move out of the cloud though, and charge at the warrior. Raha adjusts his now bloodstained tie, and swings his axe down into one of them, swatting it to the dirt. The other one yelps, skids to a stop, and starts to run away, howling the whole way.     Raha smiles, and straightens up, about to do a nice little victory pose, when the howl is returned. Only much louder and much deeper and much more discordant. And out from the trees emerges a jackal the size of several chocobos, teeth dripping with poison, gaunt and angles and muscles and bones and that's it.     The Chupacabra.     Raha's tail droops. "Ah hells." Because now it's charging him. The catman barely has time to get his proper guard up before he's knocked to the ground, a bite being taken out of his shoulder. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' The gas is certainly a surprise. She's glad she's still at a distance! Perhaps the mask should have clued her in, but one never knows what the fashion is some places... Inga pulls her cloak up over her mouth just in case a bit of the gas drifts her way, and continues casting. Is the gas, perhaps, flammable as well? Well, worth a shot. Making sure Raha isn't near the cloud, she sends a burst of flame into the area to see what happens. But then it appears. The beast of the legend. The actual Chupacabra. It's big, it's ugly, and it's after N'raha. Inga blinks quickly, looking toward N'raha in surprise "Seriously?" she says to herself, then tucks her staff into her elbow to draw her knife. Until this point, she could have perhaps passed for a mage of this world, throwing elemental based attacks. Now, she brings her knife to her arm and slices through the skin, blood rising into the air and wooshing off toward N'raha as a shimmering cloud of crimson and gold. Healing spell. Inga moves in, though she'll try to stay out of melee range. Hopefully Laina has some more tricks up her sleeve. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      Laina smirked as she watched the pack of jackals quickly fall apart under the trio's combined onslaught, giggling softly as the witch's fireball ignites her gas and lights the rest of the dogs aflame. That was easy! It was surprising how well the trio were synergizing. The job was over before it had begun.      Then the a howl reminded her that the pack of little monsters was just a side-mission.      She turned and cursed as she saw Raha get a chunk taken out of him, backpedaling once again to get some distance between her and the beast. Her momentum sends her to the ground, landing on her back as she draws yet another weapon from her back. The rectangle-on-a-stick unfolds, parts shifting and sliding until it reveals a much larger weapon than her dinky little revolver: a magitech rifle, complete with a scope. She lays on her back, propping the barrel of the gun up with her knee to help her aim at the Chupacabra. She fires a shot at its leg, more trying to distract it than anything else while she tries to think up a plan. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "AAAAHHHHHHHHH!" That's N'raha who's being used as a chew toy. Not that there's a lot of damage being done just yet, because as that bite lands, the glamour on Raha's armor fails ,and what's left is a warrior of light in shining crimson armor, half his body in the jaws of the Chupacabra. He snarls and flails, the healing spell rousing him and warding off the poison, as he wheels around and starts to beat the doggo in the snout with his fist. "LET ME GO YOU MONGREL." Bap bap.     The shot in the leg from Laina gets the giant jackal to yelp and drop its toy though, Raha falling to the ground with a crash as the beast circles a bit, trying to find whatever just stung him.     That at least gives Raha a chance to rach up and smack at it properly with his axe, the flat headed swing blasting the Notorious Monster with a wave of energy, and building up Raha's ANGRY. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks toward Laina to see her switching weapons to a more sinister looking gun. While she doesn't really understand guns herself, she has come to have a very healthy respect for them, and that one looks wicked. "Good shot!" she calls to Laina. Despite Raha's chew toy status, Inga is fairly certain they will have this well in hand soon enough. Especially now that Raha is free to use his axe. The Odin-fury has started to build. Still bleeding, she figures why waste it? With a flick of her knife another cloud of blood goes rushing into the melee, this time toward the beast. This cloud does /not/ heal. Indeed, it burns terribly, like a corrosive acid. Hopefully this will not draw its anger entirely in her direction. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      "Shit shit shit shit shit." Laina scoots away from the monster as fast as her rear end could carry her, then rolls onto her belly and pushes herself to her feet. "Shit shit shit." She patted her belt looking for any one of her toys that could help against something so huge.      She turns just in time to watch Inga's magic have a similar effect to her favorite gadgets. "Haha! Nice!" she shouts, finally palming a glass orb full of liquid at her belt. She could tell that the cloud was burning the creature, so she might as well help.      Laina threw the glass orb. It shattered against the beast's side, letting free another cloud of thick yellow gas that stuck to the spots that Inga's spell burned, compounding the debilitating effect. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Another THWACK from the Warrior, as Raha shakes out his arm and glares up at the Monster Dog. "You, my friend, are ugly and unwanted. I don't think you're even a PROPER DOG." The words echo out from his helmet, as the visor goes down, the axe comes up, and Raha spins in the air to land a twirling chop at the flank of the Jackal.     It's enough to distract the best from the sudden assault of Acid Blood and Turbo Poison. The corrosive substances seep into the creatures skin, peeling it away in bits and... and underneath is roiling angry bad stuff, raw black bile dripping in clumps from the wounds that are building on the creature. Raha notices it at least, and calls out. "Not a dog, it's a voidsent!" He takes two steps in, and places himself more firmly between the Chupacrabra and the ladies.     Which is good, because it prevents the critter from making a charge at the two of them, Raha stumbling back as he levers his axe into the way of the Beast. "No. NO. BAD. STAY." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' N'raha's announcement of the creature being a voidsent is met with a furrowed brow. That is a term she hasn't heard before, but she is fairly sure she can understand on context, especially as N'raha's protective instincts kick into overdrive. Void sent. Sent from the void. Sent from ....Outside. Inga's eyes narrow. The air around her begins to crackle, her hair rising. The runes along her staff come to life, shining blue-white as she reaches to touch a hammer shaped amulet around her neck, whispering a prayer or an incantation. The sky grows darker and thunder sounds. "By Thor's name be slain!" she cries, and the bolt of lightning that crashes down now makes the previous bolts look like static electricity, the anima charged lightning slamming straight into the dog-like creature. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      With the beast focused on the warrior, Laina drops to a knee and takes aim, grunting. "Right, because something that sucks blood isn't good enough. Instead, we have to deal with a voidling. Great. Fun. So much fun." Even through the gas mask, anyone who could hear her voice can hear the sarcasm dripping from every word.      Laina closed her eyes, shielding her self from the brightness of the lightning strike. Only when the light faded did she open her eyes again, quickly searching for and finding the charred line where the electricity had traveled down its body and firing another shot right into the weakened area. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     If there's one thing that Warriors of Light and Chosen are good at, it's beating the piss out of Voidsent and Primals and other Otherwordly things. Which is good because this howling mad beast is rapidly being broken in half.     The lightning strikes sizzle and crackle and deafen and stun the Chupacabra, the massive dog-thing snarling as it crumples to a knee and snaps annoyedly at Raha, desperately trying to score some hits from its weakened state. But it's no use, really.     Not with the concentrated fire from the Machinist. Not from the brute force of the catman interposing himself with the beast. Not with the efforts of three trained adventurers.     And with a howl, a mournful noise that carries on the wind, there's a critical moment where one of those bullets peforates the beast completely, a burst of white light and dark ichor flaring out of the other flank of the creature, when it crumples entirely, and starts to fade into ugly black haze.     Raha staggers, and falls to a knee, breathing heavily. "....And that... is how... that works." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' The electricity dispered, Inga lets out a heavy breath and watches as their combined effects destroy the voidsent, or send it back to where it came from. "Well done," she says to them both. Another blood-magic fueled healing spell is sent Raha's way before Inga looks to Laina, giving her a quick scan for injuries. Luckily, they both seem unharmed. Raha did his job well. Inga then produces a waterskin, offering it to Raha once he's caught his breath. "Well, I guess it was real," she remarks. "What exactly is a voidsent, however?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      The machinist lets out a soft, long breath, lowering her rifle. She folds up her gun again, shaking her head as she stands. "We were told about a giant jackal, not a voidsent," she murmurs. The Miqo'te walks forward, watching the blaze haze slowly dissipate in the air. "That's gonna jack the price up a bit."      She turns to face Inga, pondering the question for a moment, then shrugs. "To tell the truth, I'm not an expert. I just know they're bad and Black Mages tend to have more run-ins with them than others. I think. Not one hundred percent sure." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha shuffles a bit, rolls his neck under that helmet... and with a flash of energy, that tie and jacket is back. He sighs, and adjusts said tie. "Hnnnn. Pretty much what it says on the outside. Stuff that's conjured up from outside of the star. Favored tools of some of the nasties out there like the Ascians and whatever garbage the Allagans leave behind."     With a huff, he sinks down to a squat and looks up at Inga and then... Laina. There's a mild casting of his gaze up and down the girl, but it's hard to judge too much under that outfit of hers. Or the gas mask. "Nice to see fellow miq's taking up the adventuring banner." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga frowns, nodding. "I guessed as much. I wonder who called it, if that is the case. Unless they occasionally just come to call randomly," she says, leaning on her staff lightly. "I don't know that you'll be able to convince them to pay more, but you may have my share if you wish," she offers with a shrug. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      "Mm." Laina grunts at the woman, leaving her answer intentionally vague as to whether she would take her share or not. She nods at her, then at Raha. "It pays for my food. I'd lie around and eat nothing but bread if I feasably could, but there's no money to be made there." She shrugs as she walks back into the bushes, carefully collecting the tools of her trade. "But the help is always appreciated. Not sure if any of us could have done that ourselves." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha grumbles a bit at Laina. "Man, I get THAT. Food and money is... well. You can be happy without them, but they do solve lots of promlems, don't they?" He sighs, and bounces a bit in his squat a moment, before rising up again, and popping his back with a feline stretch. "And... well. Inga, you've tangentally met one of the Ascians, so you know what they're capable of."     A look to Laina though, and he thumbs up. "I mean ,I MIGHT have been able to but that's because I cheat at things." A little sly grin, and a swish of his tail. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods her understanding. "Well, I think we worked pretty well together, all considered. Perhaps we should stay in touch. We can take on bigger issues together," she proposes. Inga nods to Raha, pursing her lips. She's sure they'll hear from the Ascians again. That's not a problem that is likely to just go away. "Heh, he might have been able to but then he'd need me to put him back together again," she teases. She's going to leave the blood of a virgin thing alone. For now. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      "Who doesn't cheat?" she mutters, turning to Inga as the woman speaks. "Agreed. We may be able to call on each other sometime in the future. I wouldn't mind having a few compatriots to help out."      Laina takes a longer look at Raha, staring from behind her mask, then nods. "Mm. I think he would need more than just a few spells to put him back together. He was a chew toy for a few moments there." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Well, maybe." A smile again at Laina, before Raha whistles for his big green chocobo again. "Then again, Hydaelyn looks after her own, so." A shrug. "Who's to say on that one. I am very grateful you were here though. You helped make short work of everything. I'll put in a good word with the Jackets."     The big green menace warks up to Raha and Inga, and the catman holds out a hand to help his seer friend up and into the saddle. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga laughs lightly. "Well, my healing spells are pretty robust--and he's tougher than he looks," she adds with a chuckle. She takes the offered hand and clambors a bit awkwardly into the saddle behind him. "Shall we go collect our payment?" she suggests. That's how it works, right? 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      "Right." Laina put her traps on her belt, nodding. "I still say we negotiate for more, considering the inherent and unknown danger we just faced. Then again, we are dealing with the Yellowjackets. That might not go anywhere we want it to..." She looks to Raha. "What do you think?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha laughs, and nods. "To Limsa, then. We'll go harass the Admiral then. I think she'd honestly be... anxious to hear about a voidsent so close to the Drydocks."     A look to Inga as she hops on, and he saddles up as well. "We'll meet you there, I've got to handle some stuff here?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga raises a brow and gives a small shrug. "Yes, we'll meet you there. It's been a pleasure meeting you Laina," she adds, reaching over to pet the pretty green chocobo. She wants one, that's plain. "Who's a pretty bird, oh yes its you," she says quietly. 

:'''{{#var:6926|Laina Reliah (6926)}} has posed:'''      Laina nods as she starts on her own way, simply walking towards the city with her own two feet. Like a savage. "I will meet you there. Hopefully before negotiations for our pay have begun. I don't think my preferred method of arguing would endear me to the Admiral." She nods at Inga, a slight smirk carrying in her voice. "A pleasure to meet the pair of you as well. It was a joy to see how well we synergized." 
}}

6349/Watch - Training Day

2019-12-18T13:48:59Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/02/14 |Location=The Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=Members of the Watch take part in some light training against each other. |Cast of Character..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/02/14
|Location=The Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=Members of the Watch take part in some light training against each other.
|Cast of Characters=894, 819, 6381, 8, 1100, 525, 906, 714, 1011
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' DAYTIME The forest air is crisp and clean, as there's a massive clearing in the woods, from around the bristling trees and sounds of wildlife. In the middle of this clearing is a campsite, where a fire has been set up, and spaces for sparring have been cleared, as well as some gym equipment dragged out into the woods for...some reason. It's a big enough area for a dragon to fit in. The wind is nice and cool, the sun is high in the sky... And you're also not, sadly, actually in a forest this perfect. Well, for some who might hate the sun, not 'sadly', since this sun is fake. The Shrine of Adversity is a perfect place for a training where August wants to actually let loose a little and try dangerous and insane things that might kill someone otherwise. He considered an actual forest training meeting, but one of the Watch 'assistants' he pitched it to told him 'you know, we pay for the Shrine for a reason...' and August just sort of blankfaced. August Kohler sits at the fire, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, a sweater wrapped around his waist. The redhead has signed the group in under the East Multiversal Athletic Club, a private athletic club full of eccentric and skilled Multiversals. The fact that a bunch of them are probably terrorists should be paid no mind. Among the gym equipment are several boulders. They're massive, and actually weigh a ton, making them only for the super strong to move. Besides them are smaller, but still very heavy, rocks. There's a reason for this, though. As people filter in, August starts off the meeting. "Welcome, 'East Multiversal Athletic Club', to our training day. I have some stuff littered around, places to spar, can start something if anyone's out of ideas, you know, the works. If you don't know your compatriots, get to know each other!" He seems genuinely cheerful, though he whispers, "I'm not sure if they're actually listening but I'm playing it safe for at least the first five minutes." "Part of why I set this up, slightly so selfishly, is that I've gained some new abilities, and wanted to try them out. But I thought...why not make it a group activity? A bunch of you have cool abilities you might want to show off, or practice, or just beat each other up, so, why not?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh man, did August know? Did he suspect a thing? Because Raha is here and he's totally eying up those bolders. Like, super hard eyeing up. Like... tail twitching.     That said, the catman is here in his casual get up, the sweater and jeans, his black hair slicked back into a pony tail that's fluffy like his tail. "I mean, I'm up for that, definately. I know I've wanted to meet a bunch of you guys anyways and this is a great spot for it."     His ears flick up as he pokes himself in the chest with his thumb. "I'm Raha of the Clan N', Warrior of Light, from Hydaelyn. It's nice to meet a bunch of you in person, finally."     b o u l d e r s 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Blue light washes over a spot above a log as Nova decloaks, sitting on said chopped tree. Deja vu. Well, at least we can be sure sure wasn't followed to this secret not-secret meeting of exercise enthusiasts.     Nova gives a two-finger wave as she introduces herself, for those few who don't know, "Nova Terra. Ghost. From the Terran Dominion."     Nova leans forward a little, eyeing August, "So you got new abilities, huh? Like what?" 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel didn't hate the sun now she kind of liked it but when she first arrived in the Multiverse she thought something was exploding in the sky and she was about to die given her own world was one of endless night. She arrives no clad in her more 'human' styled clothing. She was hesitant to come but still as an act of good faith. She was also troubled by the events of the day before, memories of the mad security program McAfee drifted into her mind, shaking it off she smiles a bit. "Ah so you are like me after Dual Disc picked me to be its weidler." As more people arrive she grins. "Greetings!" She pauses for a moment looking to Nova nodding. "Oh right, I'm Deelel a multimedia program from a world known as the Grid." 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne steps up to the group with a cheerful wave, carrying what seems to be a large double bass, in a case. "I'm Leyanne if you don't know me already." the 8ft mouse introduces herself. "Most people call me Tiny. I'm from Mars via London" She sets down the case and flicks the catches, revealing... a fake double bass. It's a pretty good fake, to be fair, but underneath it, there's a huge machine gun with the name 'MA DEUCE' scrawled on the side. She doesn't actually take the gun out of its case, merely getting it within easy reach, should someone want to spar with her. She wanders up to the training equipment, selecting one of the smaller pairs of boulders linked with a bar- only a quarter of a ton - and prepares to bench-press them. To warm up, presumably. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is not exactly the type of person one would expect to show up to anything called, even jokingly, an athletic club. All the same, she's here anyway. She rides into the clearing astride a beautiful grey horse wrapped in a fur lined cloak, a walking staff set across her knees. A long plait of white hair hangs over one shoulder, her hazel eyes widening slightly at the number of people already arrived to this gathering. She raises a brow at Raha's eager expression, following his eyes to the big boulders...oh, he's looking forward to showing off. She rolls her eyes, but chuckles. Next, she bows her head somewhat to August. "Greetings. I am Inga Freyjasdottir, wisewoman of Uppsala. I'm here to...well, watch, and patch anyone up if necessary," she says, flashing a quick smile. She'll wait until others have full attention before she slides with some difficulty down from her horse, grabs her walking stick, and limps toward a convenient stump to sit upon. Soon she has a pot of tea and a cup to drink it out of. From somewhere. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang's pretty much been living in the Shrine for the last few months, and when she caught wind of the training day, she changed her venue and came swinging by. She's wearing a different outfit to normal.     Still sporting her usual swagger she nods to people, digs others in the arm with a chuckle, then gives a half-salute to August when she spots him. "So... who wants to go a couple 'rounds with the Golden Girl herself?" she asks in general, deploying her gauntlets then doing some stretches. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' The opportunity to do dumb, dangerous, and potentially lethal things minus the risk of actual death and dismemberment is like music to Sanary's ears. She's let loose a few times before, sure, but there's always been that nagging worry that someone important/with a name she recognizes could actually get hurt. In the Shrine of Adversity, however, that isn't so much of a problem. Besides, how could she turn down a request for training help? It'd look bad if she said no! Thus, the white-clad axe healer is here, donning... ... A plainer gray coat, a yellow t-shirt, and sweatpants with a thermos wedged clumsily into her pocket. She's heard it was an Atheletic Club, after all, so going all out with a fancy coat would just make her look like an asshole. What she wasn't expecting, however, was all the familiar faces! Weird coincidence. "Hey there. Name's Sanary Rondel, come to me if you pull somethin' or crack your head on something hard!" She grins broadly and raises a hand in a stiff greeting, peering a bit at N'raha, Inga, Yang, and Deelel alike. "Huh. You all helpin' with this club, too?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga raises her teacup to the fellow healer. "Here to fill the same function it would seem. Nice to see you Sanary, you are welcome to sit by me," Inga greets from her perch. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha smiles a bit as he shuffles up to his feet, dusts off his pants, and grins. "Something like that, Miss Rondel." His ears flick amusedly. "I'm probably... technically, one of the most... let's say legitimate members of the organization? I just don't really fit in with the ideas of law and order or individualism that... others might fancy."     He swishes his tail a bit, and then looks to Yang. "And Miss Xiao Long, I'm guessing you're... well." He glances at the magitek armlets, and then back to the girl. "You a pugilist of some sort?" From somewhere, an axe materializes in a haze of blue aether sparks, dropping lightly in the catman's hands. He grips it, and wanders over towards the boulders. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang looks at N'raha and smirks. "I guess you could say that? I focus a lot on hand-to-hand combat, with a few surprises with my weapon here." she clanks the gauntlets together for emphasis, and adjusts the mechanisms with a shift of gesture. The slides widen, and ratchet back to about halfway down the forearm.     "Also, drop the 'Miss' part. You're makin' me feel old. Call me Yang." she adds with a wink. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' Inga's response draws a curious eyebrow raise from Sanary. "Good seein' you, too! Sitting, though? Come on, you should join in, too! Ain't gonna get all... Atheletic if you're just sitting around." Raha, meanwhile, gets a somewhat more confused look. "Organiz...? Riiiight." She chuckles lightly, apparently thinking it really is just an athletic club meet and nothing more. Alas, the tone of said chuckle may suggest that she actually understands! "I getcha. Well, whatever gets you stronger and beefier, right? Just don't go too overboard or your neck'll get all swollen in the bad way." 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne has gotten one or two repetitions in with the quarter-ton boulders when Raha wanders over. "Evening." She says cheerfully to Raha. "Hey Yang, Dee." She keeps up with the reps, making sure to bleed enough weight over to her organic arm that it's actually useful and worthwhile weight training. Otherwise she's mostly showing off. But not showing off too much.... yet! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a grin from Raha, as he lightly twirls the axe, almost efortlessly, and then with one strong /sweep/ cleaves one of the medium sized boulders in half with the glowing weapon. There's... a palpable sense of familiarity to the motion, something like comfort passing over his face, before he turns to Yang, and rolls his neck, stretching out in a very... feline manner. "Right then. I guess we might as well get things started. Put on a show for the others?" A fangy smile, as his ears pin back. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang grins at Tiny. "Showin' off there, Tiny." she comments, then nods to Deelel, before gesturing off to a spot a bit more out of the way. "Wouldn't want to drag others into the middle of this... I tend to get a little too into a good fight." she mentions, a dangerous glint in her eyes as she looks at the catman. "And I can tell you're gonna be a good fight."     Yang moves off from the group a ways, unclipping the flaps on her belt and tossing them aside, so they can't be used against her. She rolls up her sleeves, then cracks her knuckles before assuming a ready stance. "Ready when you are." 

:'''{{#var:1011|John Rizzo (1011)}} has posed:'''      Unkempt, unhealthy, uncomfortable.      In Rizzo's case, it's more that the sun hates him. And really, that's because of this whole curse kick. The sun in the Shrine might be fake--but it's still got Rizzo a little bit on edge. A little distracted. His thin frame appears on the verge of being unhealthily so, as if he hasn't been eating. A breathable polo shirt and basketball pants seem slightly too large for the pale redhead. This, and his perpetual stubble, make him seem rather unkempt. A tall, lanky man, the already haggard vampire seems here to be uncomfortable in his own skin. His eyes flick nervously about, expecting a burning reprisal from an unseen hand.      The fire is fake, too, but he stands well clear of it, locked stiffly in place as if there were an invisible wall barring his path. He listens, hands in the pockets of his shorts. He sighs. "Gotta say, I'm not here to give anybody the broderick. Don't really like fighting. I'll show folks the ropes, but, Kohler, if you're gonna roll out the fireworks, keep 'em offa me. Keeping the Other Guy in bing's a full time job." He points to his head as he says that, hoping August understands what he means.      With that precaution made... there are a few faces here he knows, but plenty of new folks. He gives Leyanne and Inga familiar nods, then introduces himself to the new folks. "John Rizzo, private dick," he says, giving a brief, curt wave. He'll give a handshake to anyone that wants one. They'll find his hand cold and clammy. He clears his throat and shares a little about himself with a blank expression. "I've been cursed by God, made into an unholy predator to serve penance for my sins." The vampire lists several benefits, using a finger for each. "I'm stronger, faster, tougher to kill, even psychic--" He taps his head one more.      "But I go out into the real thing," he says, nodding backwards at the fake sun. "Or play with fire," says Rizzo with an uncomfortable glance towards the campfire, "I'll go up like a roman candle. There's another me... in my head. An animal, with my face. He's rattling the cup against the bars, every day, always, waiting for me to slip up so he can drive me off the track. Into eternal darkness."      "So, should we start out with some stretches, or just dive right in?" He jerks a thumb towards the boulders, looking amongs the fellow assembled Watch members and 'athletic enthusiasts.' 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne grins and waves to John with her organic hand. Her cybernetic one continues to benchpress, apparently without noticing. "Rizla!" she says cheerfully. "How goes death?" It's not like she can ask him how life goes after all... 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August grins as everyone arrives. He nods to Sanary, his 'special guest', as August steps over towards one of the small rock weights. It's heavy. Talking to Nova, he says. "Well, you once asked if I have powers in my human form." August takes both hands, and moves to lift the heavy weight. It takes a second, but he lifts it over his head. It's a strength stronger than a normal person, though he seems a bit uncomfortable holding it up. "My Persona is /much/ stronger than I am, but I can do this now." August places the rock back down, wiping sweat off his forehead. "I can also heal my own wounds now, like if I get cut it repairs itself, so that's all good now too." A glance to Rizzo, and a smile. "No fire, I promise. I didn't intend to use it. I have other things I want to try out." Though the full introduction gets a frown from August, he nods and accepts it. "Go ahead and dive right in, if you want. I'll be over there in a second." There's a nod to N'raha and Yang. "Go ahead. I'm going to talk to Sanary for a minute." August steps over to Sanary, standing next to her. "So, I wanted to talk to you about...well, important things. You're not in a faction, right? Have you considered joining one?" 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel looks to Yang. "We need to throw down at some point Yang but you ahve fun with N'Raha. She also looks over to Sanary and give her a simple nod. "That's about the long and the short of it." She notes before looking to Leyanne. "Hey Leyanne you want to throw down?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha grins a bit, and then settles into a steady, even defensive stance. "Right then. Come on, Blondie. Let's rumble."     The catman shifts and claps his hand to his chest twice, magical sparks flying as he does so, his body wreathing itself in defensive aethers. "Let's see if you can break me, then."     Oh ho, he's a tank, then. Interesting. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga raises her brows toward Sanary, then looks down meaningfully at her walking stick. "Athletic is not exactly my thing. I enjoy watching however," she offers with a shrug. Not that she is opposed to exercise, but not...in front of so many people. If she wanted exercise she would go for a swim. She doubts August could arrange for a pond. No, she'll drink her tea and hopefully make conversation--not to mention learn more about the people to whom she is allied and what they are capable of. Inga looks over toward Raha and his boulder cutting ax. "Oh, you'll cut boulders with it but not wood?" she teases, then looks toward Yang. Well, it looks as though they're likely to have a spar. Inga's lips purse slightly. Another familiar face arrives and Inga's lips spread in a smile of greeting as she raises a hand. "A long time since I have seen you," she greets, then takes a sip of her tea. Only to spit it out dramatically. She'd forgotten how strange he talked, and her inner twelve year old almost giggles /every time/ he introduces himself. Inga recovers after coughing lightly, and waves a hand in dismissal at anyone who looks her way in concern. "Worry not, I will not throw any fire around today. I am merely observing." 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova gives nods to those she hasn't met yet, which is very few. However, the mention of Rizzo being a psychic does draw Nova's interest. She turns her head to look at the private eye, one of those she doesn't recognize. The mention of another 'him' inside his mind gets her a little curious.     Nova eases up on her efforts to block out the thoughts of those here as she focuses her mind on Rizzo. Normally she wouldn't try to read the mind of someone who isn't her enemy, usually trying to respect people's privacy... But she's curious, plus also interested in seeing how good Rizzo's own abilities are.     So Nova tries to take a peek into the undead's mind. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:'''      That's new. Sanary lets out something that sounds almost like, but not quite a whistle when August shows off that he can even lift that heavy rock. "Dang, August. Good progess! Just don't get too nuts with it. You don't want to bust your bones just 'cause your muscles are better."      Not like she's ever had that happen before. No. Not at all.      Rizzo's explanation of his curse draws a furrowed brow from the axe-healer. "Sounds like they did you a favor, giving you all that power. I mean, aside from the burning thing. THat kinda sucks." She snickers a bit as well as she mulls over something, undoubtedly immature.      Inga, meanwhile, gets an understanding nod. "Yeah, I see what you mean." She takes a moment to glance around slowly, sizing everyone up before turning back to August when he comes closer. "Eh? Uh... nah, no faction. Haven't really thought about it, though. I mean, the..."      She pauses, then puts one arm over his shoulder to keep their talk hush-hush. "I don't think the Paladins would like me with the shit I've done. And the Concord's got that weird dragon lady." She grimaces uncomfortably, then strokes her chin. "... You working with 'em? Or that Watch group?" 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne sets down the boulder she's bench-pressing and stands, grinning to Dee. "Can do!" She says happily. "You feeling melee or ranged? I know those Discs you programs launch around are pretty impressive in both..." 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang cocks her head curiously as the Miqo'te wreathes himself in defensive energies. She's seen similar before, and the similarity to her own Aura is enough for her. She then grins and says, "Alright, I won't be holding back though!" before her foot shifts, and craters the ground as she launches herself forward.     The same action sees her throw her arms back and fire behind her, adding to the speed of her charge. A simple approach, direct and easy to predict, she comes straight in, and aims a haymaker straight for N'raha's center of mass. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August is more comfortable with personal contact now, so he doesn't even flinch as Sanary puts her arm around his shoulder. Keeping sort of quiet with her, "Well, I'm actually one of the leaders of the Watch. I thought you knew that?" He squints at her, slightly. It wasn't a secret! Though, keeping quiet, preferably so any secret Shrine sensors don't hear them, August continues. "I actually wanted to invite you to the Watch, formally." August pulls out his phone, and opens up a website, with one hand. It's a youtube collection of the Watch doing things in different worlds. There's monster slaying, fights with militaries in there, superheroics, a clip of dragon-slaying Sanary might focus on, a bunch of stuff someone collected of 'what appears to be Watch activity'. "The Watch is a group based around doing what's right. Helping those in need, helping the little guy, even if that means getting extreme. When a tyrant has the people under his heel, the Watch steps in. When a monster slays villages, we kill it. And when a monster of a man gets away with his crimes under the pretense of the law...well, we step in for that, too. I know we had our disagreements." Cough cough. "But I think you have a spark, a potential, of being able to do good things. I mean, you tried to rob a bank for a...good reason?" If somewhat selfish, August thinks. "And I think having a support structure like that would really help you be able to do bigger things. The Watch doesn't have a lot of money or resources, but we have information. We're tied into things. We learn things. And we have people willing to support each other, have their backs." Though, August thinks about how he pitched the Watch. Maybe he needs to learn a little more. How to phrase it better. He purposely didn't mention justice. He doesn't know what that is, yet, and he's still reading to find out. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a grin from Raha as he plants his feet... and then leans his shoulder into the blow. Like, straight up lets the hit land. There's a thundering smack of gauntlet on... wait, cloth? Yes, cloth. The impact hardens the sweater in an instant, and for a moment, it'll feel like Yang's punching a suit of armor or something. The catman's hiding something, it seems.     That said, she's in close now, and the Warrior of Light smiles, and swings the haft of his axe straight down, trying to swat Yang into the 'dirt' in front of him. "HI." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel smirks "You'll just have to see." She'll back off from the main group and drop into a ready stance then makes the bring it on gesture. "You know me just full of surprises." 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang isn't really the most bright or cunning of fighters. She relies on her strength and getting in a good, heavy blow or two to stagger her opponent and keep them off balance. Someone who can take those hits has a clear advantage... and that's why N'raha's swat smacks Yang clean down into the dirt, sparking off a brilliant yellow-gold field that surrounds the young woman's body.     The brawler doesn't stay down long though. She plants her hands, then sweeps her legs around to try and take the Miqo'te's stance out from under him, then sweeps herself up onto her feet with a twirling flip. "Not bad... but I don't believe for a second that sweater'd be able to take that kinda hit. What're you hiding?" she asks, still grinning as little motes of light start to rise from in her hair... as if someone had set a fire and it was just starting to make itself known. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:''' "... Is that what all the mask business is about?" Suddenly, things start to make sense to Sanary. She looks a little dumb-founded as everything clicks into the place, the coincidences start lining together, and the pitch for the faction starts coming right at her. As expected, the dragon-slaying clip gets more attention than anything, and she's rubbing her chin while nodding slowly by the time all the footage ends.      "Sounds good... Hmm. Yeah, we've had... R-right. Yeah." She coughs lightly when he mentions robbing the bank for a good reason, taking a moment to just look off to the side.      Clearly, she's just distracted by eye candy.      "Support would be pretty helpful, yeah... I've managed a few things on my own, but having backup /would/ help a lot." She's definitely thinking about it. The pros are there, and the cons haven't really been vocalized yet.      "... Does the Watch have any cool uniforms or emblems or whatever? Or is it more under the table so nobody knows where to find you?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The leg sweep does catch Raha in the shins, those jeans likewise clanking a bit, despite moving like cloth and not impeding him all that much. Hmmmmm.     The kick manages to stump one of his legs into the air. Enough for him to yelp and plant the butt of his axe into the dirt to steady himself before he falls over. "HAH! WELL. I'm pretty sure you'll figure it out if you hit me a bit more, now won't you?" 'when'. He's expecting to get hit.     He gets his foot back under himself, ankle smarting now, as he SWINGS again, a hard, cleaving blow aimed at Yang's middle let's see what you're made of, then. 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne chuckles "Yeah but I need to know if I'm unpacking Ma or not." She nods over at the M2 that she's brought along for today. That said, she loosens up a little, apparently ready to respond should Deelel decide to start the fight first. 

:'''{{#var:1011|John Rizzo (1011)}} has posed:'''      "Can't complain," says Rizzo to Leyanne with a shrug. He gives the question a little more thought, and offers a sincere response."Back in the game. Keeping the lights on. Just trying to stay away from the eight ball, sister."      August gets a grateful, weary smile in exchange for not using his fire. "Thanks, kid."      He then turns to Inga, offering the same. "And thank you. Good to see ya again, Inga." He shoves his hands into his pockets, eyes falling slightly to observe the aftermath of his slang. The vampire clears his throat despite not needing to. "I might be, too--so, you might have company."      His mind, to Nova's trained senses, is at first glance a scattered mess. It's as if someone broke a mirror and threw it into the sea, with fragmented thoughts all slowly sinking into unfathomable blackness. Each one is oddly clear, however, and rather than follow the usual stream-of-consciousness thought patterns, they seem almost like the passages of a book. Each one is 'narrated' in the first person, deliberately, yet there is almost never a full 'page.' Just snippets, afloat in an inky, smothering sea of guilt.      'I felt trapped. Like if I took off the mask for a second, he'd know--'      The gentle susurrus of the man's voice fades to a new thought. '...when I noticed her staring at me.' His steely gray eyes fix on Nova, and he nods. An image appears in her mind--a postcard upon a table, showing the Chicago skyline. 'Greetings, from the Windy City.' 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August nods to Rizzo. All's cool. Sticking with Sanary, August shrugs. "I'm not sure exactly what you're referring to with Mask business, but you have to had heard me be called the Cloak of the Watch, right?" He's waiting to see if she remembers or had heard it, before continuing, pocketing his phone again. "No dress code. Wear what you want, be subtle if you want, flashy if you want. No uniforms or emblems to wear. Most people are secretive about their membership." The cons are...well, he alerady said little resources, and that's the only real con August thinks of, besides an important one. "Sometimes people disagree with each other and do what they think is right, but..." Right. Huh. August might have just thought of something. He'll have to keep reading later. "In the end, we're all allies. If you want to join, lemme know and I'll make it official. Otherwise we can get back to training." He's going to give her some time, but if she wants to join now, well, he's not against it. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga gestures for John to join her if he wishes. She's currently perched on a tree stump she's managed to make look fairly comfortable, a hot pot of tea nearby. "Feel free then. Tea?" she asks. She can't recall if he imbibes anything besides blood. She doesn't (currently) have any animals conveniently stuffed into her pouch. But it is polite to ask either way. "I trust you have been well?" she asks. Is he Watch? She didn't know, but then, she was gone a while...and missed quite a bit. Inga looks back toward the fight between N'raha and Yang, her brows furrowing. She looks a touch concerned. For the time being, she'll cheer him on. "That's the way, Raha!" she cheers, somewhat awkwardly. Then her attention slips over toward August and Sanary, to see how things are going. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel looks at Leyanne for a moment waiting watching, it seems to be a showdown for a moment. "So you wnat me to start it up? All right let's see how this goes then. Up close, would be the name of the game today, Leyanne." 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne nods in agreement with August's words. "I don't see eye-to-eye with Kohler very often." She admits. "But... kid's heart's in the right place. He's doing what he believes is the right thing to do for the poor common bastard in the street... something precious few folks think of here in the Multiverse it seems." She sniffs. She nods to Deelel "Up close, eh? OK." She grins, adopting a side-on boxer's stance, leading with that wickedly fast left hand of hers. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang crosses her gauntlets, and plants her feet to absorb the axe swing. Golden light flares at the point of impact, before the axe strikes the metal of the gauntlets and the blonde skids aside from it a little ways, digging a pair of furrows from her feet bracing. The field flickers uncertainly for a few moments, before it returns to invisibility.     "Alright then, warmup's over!" she says next, slamming her fists together.r     The area around the woman craters under her feet, and a pulse of kinetic energy erupts around her. The ember-like motes begin to turn into flickering 'flames' within her hair as it billows out around her. "This is my Semblance." she explains, then leaps forward again. This time she doesn't come straight in, she waits until the very last second before firing her gauntlets to launch herself around to the side. She shifts her stance and launches into a rapid-fire flurry of punches into N'raha's side. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman is happy to see his strike blow, and even happier to see Yang spring right back up after it. There's a fire in his own eyes, as the axe comes around for another strike, the Miqo'te advancing on Yang, before she psyches herself up, pushes her OWN Inner Release button, and goes ham.     There's a squawk from the Warrior as she ducks in under his guard and starts landing blows. One. Clang. Two. Clang. Three. Clang. Four-     It's about then that the Warrior pulses with his own energy, each of those strikes hurting Yang with reflected energy as she hits him like that...     And the glamour fades from his outfit. Where once there stood a Dad Cat with comfy clothing, now stands a true warrir, clad in gleaming red armor, the metal shimmering in a vaguely magical fasion. And that 'simple' axe flashes into a gloriously glowing Bravura, the bearded blade glowing.     "...Hello." The greeting RATTLES the armor as he lets out a lion-roar, and takes a step forward, headbutting Yang with that mythrite helmet. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     Nova tilts her head a little bit at the strangeness of Rizzo's thoughts. Admittedly she doesn't read the thoughts of undead very often, but she had expected them to be similar to a regular human. Given that's what Rizzo appeared to have been.     But as she is suddenly presented with the thought of a postcard, Nova grins in response. She stops her probing, once more dulling the voices in her head as she turns to look towards August and Sanary.     Nodding along with Leyanne, Nova adds her own thoughts to the recruitment, "The Watch is a good deal. A support network without all the bureaucracy keeping you from doing what needs to be done." 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:'''      "Cloak, mask, same difference." Sanary coughs lightly. Granted, the phrase is /cloak/ and dagger, not mask and dagger, but... Screw it, she's not the one on trial here!      After fighting back a bit of irritation (mostly at herself), she closes her eye while mulling over August's words once more. "I'd get options, then... Hmm. Maybe even a cool mask.. Er. Cloak. Wait. Mask."      She could rock a mask.      "I get people not getting along about everything, at least. If everyone's trying to do the right thing and nobody thinks they're wrong..." She murmurs, then goes quiet. She starts recalling things. Things that happened long ago, things in her past, things she's been involved in, things she's seen on the sidelines. "You know... I used to get a lot of shit for doing things other people said were wrong. For doing 'evil' things to what me and the people I cared about want in the end."      She starts doing squats to get the blood pumping, although her gaze goes a bit further around now that Nova, Inga, and Leyanne have turned their way as well. "So if I'm gonna be joining up with you guys, I have to know: Am I going to get set on fire if I have to smear somebody?" 

:'''{{#var:1011|John Rizzo (1011)}} has posed:'''      John takes a seat beside Inga, lowering himself to the ground. "No thanks," he says. "Had a smell from the barrel before I rolled in." His fingers dig into the artificial grass. The dirt is fake, of course, but even with the looming anxiety that the fake sun above might become real, the sensation of touching something warmed by /a/ sun with his bare hands... after decades of having given it up, it's nice. "I was, ah... circling the drain there, for a while. Tried to lead someone into the light--ended up being a trip for biscuits. Made a big mistake, turned myself in. Tried to... end it." He swallows, as he admits that.      "I'm better now."      He gives Nova a curious look, craning his neck slightly. "You give the buzz to every psychic you meet, or just the strays?" he calls. Every so often, his attention wanders to the fighting, his expression changing to a resigned frown.      "Y'know, I'd like it if we'd get it worked out so nobody needed to know how to fight. If there weren't any fights that needed fighting." He doesn't voice this opinion to anyone in particular. "But there are."      Sanary in particular receives a message--a voice, in her head. She can tell, instinctively, that it isn't her own mind. ''ll do everything I can so nobody's gotta smear anybody.' 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel has her ID disc in hand she doesn't power the edge, while there are safety systems here it's more a cultural sign of respect that this is a duel. Less than a second later she's moving in on Leyann close and trying to make several opening strikes with her disc, just trying to keep her larger foe off balance right from the get-go. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang just seems to get more pumped as her own strikes start to reflect back on her. Her hair begins to flare more brightly, right up until the armour manifests itself out of the cloth, and that helmet comes down to crack her in the face.     Yang's Aura flares brightly, then continues to flicker occasionally as she staggers back from the blow. The roar earns one in return, the woman's Semblance turning her into a walking bonfire as her eyes turn red and her hair erupts in a golden flame. "Now this is getting interesting!" she says, her grin gone from a playful countenance to something almost sinister, a bloodthirsty expression as her baleful eyes lock onto her target, the catman in the red platemail.     She spreads her stance, and with a flurry of punches, fires off explosive bolts from her gauntlets, each one visible as a packet of unstable light as it travels towards its target. Each one explodes with the force of a grenade on contact with any surface, though a sharp blade can cut through them. 

:'''{{#var:894|August Kohler (894)}} has posed:''' August nods to Sanary as she considers all of this. He looks up towards the 'sun' as she continues, saying. "When you betrayed me, I thought I'd never trust you again. But look at us here and now. I'm trying to recruit you. Things change, don't they?" Rizzo gets a sigh but a nod. "We fight because we have to. It's what some of us do in life. I fight for those who can't fight for themselves." And then, August turns directly to Sanary and looks at her. "Sometimes we have to take a life. Not everyone will agree. But as leadership...if you have to take out a bunch of security guards or kill a crook, that's acceptable. I mean, my powers aren't really non-lethal. And...I'm no longer scared of killing. Sometimes, it's necessary." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman's face is vield, but those glowing red eyes of the Hunter might be matched by the angry red of Raha's own aetheric aura. "Hnnnnrrrrrraaaaaaaa." Words are getting harder as the Wrath overtakes him.     More more more. The blows keep coming in, raging at him. He's used to magic, so the shotgun Dust bolts are familar, if a little unorthodox for him. A Machinist Monk. The idea will percolate a bit more once he can think straight. The catman's aura flares over though, and shifts from a defensive configuration to something decidely more deadly.     Raha plants his feet, launching himself into Yang with a blast of aether, and tries to bulldog the girl into the ground with a lariat of his axe handle. "COME ON, LET'S GO." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' When Inga sees the change in Yang, she knows Raha's will follow. ....And there it is. Inga heaves a sigh. This could be problematic. Inga listens, glancing toward John, quietly trying to get the meaning from his words even though he seems to often speak a language she doesn't understand. Tried to....end it. Inga swallows, looking away, her brow furrowed and the corners of her mouth turned downward in a frown. Pain in plain in her eyes. This she understands. "I..have been through very dark times as well," she replies to him quietly. After a moment, she turns her eyes back to his. "I am glad that you are doing better," she says sincerely. Inga lets out a quiet sigh and reaches to refill her cup of tea. At the statement about not needing to fight, Inga smiles slightly. "That is an admirable ideal to work toward," she remarks, though such a world would leave a few feeling...less than satisfied. Some do so enjoy the fight. Inga sees nothing wrong with that, so long as its channeled in the right direction. Inga's gaze turns back to Raha and Yang. Things are escalating quickly. The seer frowns and sets down her tea, reaching for her walking stick. "I believe I am going to have to step in, please excuse me a moment," she says to John, then leans on her stick to pull herself to her feet and begin walking slowly toward Raha and Yang. 

:'''{{#var:714|Sanary Rondel (714)}} has posed:'''      "H-hey, I said I was sorry!" Sanary flinches a bit when August brings that up, then laughs it off with a nod. "But yeah... Yeah, they do. I used to completely blind, y'know."      She demonstrates by tapping on her eye directly. She doesn't even flinch. Rizzo's brain message does have her glancing around a few times, though, but she doesn't seem to recognize who or where it's coming from.      "Hmm... Alright, I'm fine with that. I won't just kill people for the hell of it, of course, but if it happens or if there's somethin' to be gained from it... Well." She shrugs, but keeps glancing around. She looks a little more nervous than before.      Damn Shrine ghosts. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang shifts her gauntlets out of ranged mode as her target comes charging in. She braces for the charge and grabs onto the axehandle. Her feet dig furrows as she wrestles with N'raha, pitting strength against strength. "THAT ALL YOU GOT!? C'MON! MAKE ME FEEL IT!" she roars in Raha's face, digging in her stance and arresting the momentum. She then tries to push back, and even use her grip to throw the catman using his axe as a lever! 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne yelps and tries to lean back from the disc as Dee comes at her, although the Program is just too fast for the mouse. She manages to block a few of the attacks on her forearms, but a few get through, knocking the mouse back a step. "Fast..." she mutters. "Why's it always the fast ones?" She keeps on watching Deelel's pattern of movements, waiting for her opening. When she thinks she's got herself an opening, the mouse steps forward to try and deliver a haymaker punch with that wicked left fist of hers! 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     "Well, some types do explode into fire when you kill them. So you'll still have to keep an eye out for those. But no, we're not going to get on your case for that." Nova pauses, before adding, "Well, most of us won't. The rest you can just ignore." Nova grins at Sanary.     As Rizzo questions her on her psychic probing, Nova simply shrugs, "I don't see too many psychics outside of my world. So I'm curious to see what they can do." She smirks, "Why? Afraid of the skeletons in your closet?" Though as Rizzo speaks of a time where nobody needed to know how to fight, Nova snorts, "Never going to happen. The choice to fight comes with free will. Can't have one without the other." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Strength versus strength is going to be a real challenge, isn't it? The two Watch members most fueled by combat, now toe to toe, hand to axe, and the area is starting to pay for it. Not that the Shrine can really be 'damaged', but the rocks and dirt start to furrow and rumble under the feet of the pair of combatants.     Raha's visor pops up as he struggles with Yang, a battle mad happy... joyous look on the Miqo'te's face. He's in his very element right now and he's savoring this. "You AFRAID, BLONDIE? COME ON." Though...     Neither of them is budging. Oh dear. Another crumple of the stones and dirt under the pair. This is getting... volatile. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' "Because if you go slow you die in the GAMES." Deelel is not quite quick enough to avoid the punch she takes a very good hit, but she's able to roll a bit at it. She's thankful though that Leyanbne doesn't have integrated light emitters in her fists right now. "You know how it goes right? My User didn't make me fight, I'm a bit of a strange one in that respect." She notes before shifting about again and letting lose with a low kick trying to knock Leyanne off her feet and then strike her rapidly with her ID disc again. "The ISOs have it worse though, like you species, or most other organic ones you are not born with a purpose." 

:'''{{#var:1011|John Rizzo (1011)}} has posed:'''      "Close enough," says Rizzo to Nova, regarding his concerns. "Let's call it public safety." He clarifies with a telepathic message, sent exclusively to Nova. 'No skeletons--secrets. Dangerous ones. You dig?'      "Sure thing, Inga." John nods. He stands up at his full height and stretches. "Go easy on 'em," he adds with a slight smile.      "That was me, kid, relax," says Rizzo to the healer. "Just didn't wanna talk over Kohler. Think we've worked together already, just not side-by-side. I was the guy gettin' the wire on the superbug that rocked that ghost town. Exodus," he says, clarifying the precise name of the town. "One with the little gray men," adds the vampire, lowering a pale hand to knee height to illustrate.      "As long as you're thinking long and hard about lettin' someone have it, you and me are hunky dory." 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne listens to Dee as she fights, bringing her left arm up to block the disc. It's a good hit, cracking the plastic. Leyanne's hand bends /really/ funkily to hook her pinky into the disk, giving the mouse a little bit of leverage to try and force it aside so that she can come in with a sharp clothesline, trying to put Deelel on her back. Should that work, the 500lb mouse immediately follows it up with an elbow drop. "Man, I'm glad that's not how games work where I'm from." Leyanne says. "Least I hope it's not. Losing wouldn't feel quite as... good if I knew I was killing some poor cunt on the other side of it, volunteer or not." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga continues walking toward Yang and Raha, her lips moving, voice unheard of the din of their battle. She pauses where she stands, closer, but not close enough to be at risk of getting hit by one of their blows. She raises her walking staff, pointing it toward Yang. Inga's voice rises as her incatation reaches it's climax and theirs a feeling in the air as if a large bell was just struck, though there is no sound. A glow would suddenly surround Yang as Inga's curse settles upon her, paralyzing her momentarily so that Inga can finish crossing the distance to N'raha. See, Inga knows berserkers. Her people are famous for the wild warriors and their Odin-fury. They are an incredible asset in battle--but the problem is, you let them tire themselves to exhaustion, accepting the havoc they would wreak or someone had to bring them back. "RAHA!" she calls as she walks up beside him, and when he turns toward her she reaches up and palms him in the forhead. It doesn't look like much from the outside. There's not much force in it, not compared to the kind of strength he and Yang possess. But for Raha? She tried to trigger the Echo, while also opening herself to her Sight. Where before he say red and fury, she drops his mind onto the shores of a windswept beach, a cold and rocky northern ocean where gulls call and the waves crash a soothing rhythmic sound. A strong memory. The smell of salt, the cold wind making cheeks red, stones hard beneath feet. A sensory experience usually brings someone back. She hopes it works. 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     Yang snarls at Raha. "I'M AFRAID OF NOBOD---HRK!" Her body stops responding and the brawler drops like a stone as the paralysis curse overtakes her, bypassing the last dregs of her Aura. She just lays there, as her Semblance bleeds energy and she just kind of smoulders before the 'flames' finally die out and she just kinda lays there, looking tired. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a yelp of noise from Raha as he turns to look at... whoever it is walking up on them and casting spells.     He nearly raises a hand to swing at Inga, before he gets caught with pretty much the one thing that'll put him down stright out of the Odinsrage. A shot right to the Destiny. "Hng." The noise and fury and fire all go out of him at once, and he staggers back, loosing his footing and falling to his butt on the dirt. His armor flashes out of existance again, back to the dad-clothes they've been glamoured to.     Everyone else will see him looking very blankly off into space.     The catman, however, is on the shores of Courthas. The ocean waves splash against bare feet and shins, as the warrior just... drifts for a long moment or so. 

:'''{{#var:6381|Nova Terra (6381)}} has posed:'''     'Of course. Those are the best kinds of secrets.' Nova replies to Rizzo, grinning. But she then says out loud, "Don't worry. I don't go deep unless I have a good reason to." Context, plz!?     Nova turns to watch as Inga intercedes in the fight between Yang and N'Raha. She looks a little dispointed, "Should have just let them continue at it. Not like they're going to kill each other here." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, looking down to Raha and then to Yang. When Yang's Aura has settled down, she releases the curse. Raha will come back out of the vision on his own soon enough. "I do apologize," she says to Yang. "I feared one of you would do something you would regret when you were not in the Odin-fury," she says, hoping Yang will not hold it against her. Then Inga blinks and looks toward Nova. "What do you mean?" apparently Inga didn't get the memo about this place. She simply saw a spar that was getting out of hand, and two allies that might have done real harm to eachother and regretted it. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel says "There are games and then there are The GAMES." Deelel notes for a moment the fight continues she's trying to feel out her far larger for at this point as the attacks keep coming. She gets hit and pretty badly forcing the basic back. "I guess I shouldn't be going easy on you for being a User, should I?" Deelel now moves to vault over Leyanne and give her a kick on the way by, hit or mess she'll land in a couch and then rise up with a grin on her face. "I'm over here." 

:'''{{#var:906|Yang Xiao Long (906)}} has posed:'''     "Not Odinfury, or whatever... but yeah, I guess we were getting a little too into it." replies Yang after the paralysis is lifted. She remains laying, staring up into the virtual sky. "Nova's right though, this place works on some weird quantum tech... even if we broke bones, it'd reset us back to before that... it'd hurt like hell, but nothing would be permanent." she finally sits up, then looks over at Raha, and then the others. 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne takes that kick square to the face, just as she's starting to get back up. She's pushed straight back down to the ground with a thud. "Motherfucker..." she mutters with a laugh, kicking herself back upright (with a little help from her tail). She turns to face Dee "Nice move." she says, before darting up to Deelel... and the sofa she's on. And simply trying to throw them both away from herself! The giant mouse and the Program illustrate exactly that point. Leyanne isn't exactly holding back; she knows how hard the Program hits, and can't give her any respite. She is also showing off a little bit; when you've got the strength to throw an occupieed couch around, and you're surrounded by friends, why not? Everbody can always laugh about it if you get punished for being cocky. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's still out of it, honestly, but the catman just drifts slightly, slipping a bit to the side to rest against Inga's hip. That blank distant stare is still there, but he's slowly coming back into focus moment by moment.     The eyes come all the way back, and he snort snuffles, sitting up straight, pink in his ears and cheeks. "Huh. Hrm. I guess I was getting carried away or something, I uh..." A glance from Yang to Inga and back again, and he sits on his knees, perhaps a little bit more contrite than he was coming into this. "Hey. You fight pretty good." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's eyes widen slightly. "Truly?" she says, looking around. Then she groans. "Well, I'd have just let you exhaust yourselves if I'd known that! Ah well...I am sorry that I interrupted then," she says. "It was a good show," she adds, sheepishly. When Raha's head bumps against her hip she looks startled, then snorts lightly. "Welcome back," she says. So it worked. Well good. She may have ruined a fight but at least she learned something. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel is having an interesting time here s she's caught up by Leyanne and just pounded really good. She's picked up and thrown really darn dar the force of the impact is what does most of the damage though Deelel this the ground and cries out. To her credit, she's back on her feet before Leyanne could pounce her. She then tosses her ID disc, wait where did it go? It bounces off several of the simulated trees and is aimed right for Leyanne's back. 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne tries to watch the disc, but loses sight of it. She turns her attention back to Dee only to have the Disc come at her again, bringing her right - organic - arm up to block. This of course hurts quite a bit more than using her cybernetic arm to block, but it's better than taking it to the face like she did the kick. She turns, her left arm whipping out to catch the ID disc and, spinning her forearm through a full 360 degrees, send it straight back to its owner! 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel moves to catch the ID Dics but the attack and force of how she had to act. "Not nice to do something like that Leyanne." Deelel chides her friend and that's when she just is going to her nose Deelel launches the disc forcefully. Not once but four times then she catches is and she keeps going. It doesn't take long before she's on Leyanne and just letting loose with everything she has up close and Deelel is just being brutal here the intent is clearly to put Leyanne down right here and now. 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne takes all four hits to the head in quick succession, planted quite firmly on her back. For a moment it looks like the mouse is out of the fight. She's certainly thinking about just staying down and taking it after that, but... She shifts a little. "....ow..." she mutters, before kicking herself back to her feet and, with the last dregs of her strength, launching herself straight at Deelel, hoping to reach her before the disc can return and the Program can use it to block what's coming. What's coming isn't pretty, or elegant, in terms of style. But it does make use of one thing the mouse has plenty of. Mass. She launches herself into the air and brings both feet together, revealing exactly why Leyanne wears high heels; they're for drop-kicks like this one. When the mouse hits the ground, hit or miss, she stays still for several seconds. "...I'm done, Dee. How 'bout you?" 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' It's been a good fight a very close fight but Leyanne has a heck of a lot of power here and that's where she wins out. She just launches herself up, Deelel has found high heels are a strange and alien thing that makes no sense to her. Save for the one thing Leyanne has done with them, are they all concealed weapons? Such thoughts are lost as WHAM Deelel is hit hard and floored she looks up croaking a bit. "I'm done, good game." It was a good workout though she might need a hand getting up. 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne nodnods, slowly - very slowly - hauling herself to her feet. She walks over and holds her hand out to help Dee up. "Good game, yeah. You nearly got me... where'd that last hit come from, what was that all about?" The poor mouse has no idea she's broken a taboo 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel accepts the hand up and gets to her feet, she'll secure her disc on her back now shaking her head a bit "When your spend from your view a decade in a fighting arena you learn how to fight or get cubed." She notes tilgin her head "So want to get something to eat?" 

:'''{{#var:1100|Leyanne (1100)}} has posed:''' Leyanne nods as she listens "Fair, yeah." She says, with a sniff. "Sounds like a plan." 
}}

6340/Le Roy Es Mort ft Inga and Raha

2019-12-18T13:45:55Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/01/24 |Location=Inga's Cottage |Synopsis=Inga and Raha patch things up after the fight against King Moggle Mog. |Cast of Characters=819, 525 |..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/01/24
|Location=Inga's Cottage
|Synopsis=Inga and Raha patch things up after the fight against King Moggle Mog.
|Cast of Characters=819, 525
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Well, whether she had been expecting him or not, Raha's found his way back to Inga's place, following yesterday's successful but grueling battle against the Primal Moogle, or whatever the heck Moggle Mog had actually been.     There's still a bandage on his ear, and a popsicle stick as a makeshift splint in order to make sure it's healing in place the correct way, but otherwise he's entirely healed.     There's a hot pot going on the stove near him, as he makes 'what's in the fridge' stew, of basically... well, every leftover veggie and protein Inga had, with a hefty helping of spices.     There hadn't been much talking though, from Raha. Just a presence for his friend. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga had returned after the battle to a bath and her bed. She should have gone out with the others to celebrate instead of coming home to be alone and morose...but it just hadn't felt right. She's been quiet today today, going about her business doing various household chores. She didn't force him out obviously, but she hasn't exactly been engaging either. Sitting at her loom, she heaves a sudden sigh. "I'm sorry Raha. I've been very poor company," she says, reaching back to try to rub a crick out of her back from hunching over her loom. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The words seem to jolt Raha out of whatever reverie he'd been in, the sheer placid calm of cooking something simple, filling, and delicious. He looks up from the stewpot, his tail swishing a bit. "Oh. It's fine. I know you've got a lot on your mind, so." A little soft smile. I wanted to be sure you were okay, and to make sure you were having something decent."     Though, the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes all the way. "You did a fantastic job keeping us all going last night, even if Kord decided he was... uh, going to do that." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga arches her back, stretching before she gets to her feet, leaving her weaving behind. She looks as though she's making a woven belt of blue and white with a complicated design on the tablet loom. She moves to the kitchen and gets down a loaf of bread to start slicing. "You know...while I appreciate it, I know you have many friends Raha. You don't need to do....all this," she says, gesturing vaguely with her knife before looking away. "I don't want you hanging around out of pity. You know I'll be alright. I have very little choice in the matter," she adds, unable to keep bitterness from her voice. At the compliment, she nods. "It is good to be of use. What do you mean? What did he do?" she asks, wondering if she missed something--or if he simply means whatever it was he did that made Mort so angry. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The comment leaves Raha a little bit confused. "Pity? I... uh." His good ear flicks a bit, before he blinks, and ohs. A deep sigh, and he squats down on his haunches. "Yeah I've got plenty of friends, but you're in need of a few. So. Here I am." The position looks comfortable on him, at least, the feline frame lanky enough to make it work.     "And Inga, it's not pity. Heck, you're one of the few people around here who get what I'm going through. I mean, we've SEEN each other's patron. We See things we're not supposed to. Or shouldn't know." He scratches at his ear, his bad one, and grumps. "I'm not sure where the pity part came in, did I say somethign wrong?" His eyes unfocus a bit as the brawny Warrior digs back into his memory. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga puts down her knife, frowning. She's aware she doesn't have many friends at the moment, her lips pursing at the reminder, even if he didn't mean it that way. She sighs, closing her eyes for a moment. "You didn't say anything wrong. It's simply that I don't know why you would want to hang around with me. I'm not fun. I'm sad, bitter and I think rather boring. I'm accustomed to being solitary and just..." another sigh. She steps forward. "Stop scratching at your ear," she says, reaching over to adjust the splint, which is easy to do with him crouching down. Her touch is gentle, trying not to cause him more pain. "Another spell aught to do it. You heal quickly too." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman holds still for Inga, leanign his head into her ministrations. "Sorry, doc." A grump and grumble, his tail swishing a bit more. "And..." He purses his lips a bit, as he considers her other statement. He's not moving, she's got a very captive audience and compatirot right now. "...Because even if it's lonely, just having someone else around helps. To have that option."     He can't scratch his hear, so he scratches his neck instead. "To know that you can get up, and someone will be there to listen to a joke you just came up with, or to try this stew you made, or... well. To talk to."     It's not a lecture, he's just... explaining himself. "...If I told you Mother Crystal told me to, would that make you feel any better? Other than 'I feel like it, and I like you?'" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Splint back in order, she leans back against the kitchen counter and listens, looking down, trying to keep her breathing even and calm. She's tired of crying. "It is lonely. But I've gotten used to that. I've fallen into habits, and habit will keep you living, at least. But to do more than that, I'm...scared," she says quietly. Inga reaches up to tug on her braid, biting the inside of her cheek. "It isn't that I don't appreciate it. I do, truly. I don't need to tell you anything, because you've seen it. That helps. But knowing what you do, too...its hard for me to pretend nothing happened--and maybe that's the only way I can exist." Inga blinks, looking up to meet his eyes, her brow slightly raised. "/Did/ she tell you to?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A slight grin at that one. "No, she didn't. This is all me." He huffs and settles out on the rug, ear fixed, sitting comfortably on his bottom, legs curling under him. "You're worth keeping around, because you're kind and a healer, but also because..." And she gets to the crux of the matter.     "...Who else am I going to pal around with who I don't have to explain 'sometimes I will see your worst inner thoughts an histories, sorry'?" That tail thwacks against the carpet a bit, as he grumps and plants his hand on his chin, leaning into the pose.     "And I asked cause some people seem to think 'oh, it's destiny or something' makes stuff better. I knew you wouldn't see it that way." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks a bit relieved that he's not here on orders of his goddess for several reasons, but mainly just because it means he does want to be here. It's his choice. She blushes slightly at the compliment and rolls her eyes. "Ah so you keep me around because I can patch you up when you get into scraps," she jokes. When he talks about the visions, she laughs. It's a good, full laugh. "That is true. People get used to it after a while--if they stick around that long. It is difficult, though, even with people who understand. I....see a lot of things. I see a lot of possible futures, and I have to constantly decide if I should speak of some of the things I have seen, for speaking of it may change everything," she explains. "I'll never know that. It could....have made a difference," she says. She hangs her head for a moment, sighing shakily. Then she straightens up to turn and get bowls for the stew. They might as well eat. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha smiles a bit and stands up...     But as Inga turns, he plants a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. I can't promise much, but I can tell you you've got a place in any party that I field to handle things, and you know that." A grin, an honest one this time, the smile reachign all the way. "And feel free to intervene however you want with me. You're the one with more experience as a Seer." He ruffles her hair a little bit, and then lets her go get plated up. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is stopped by the hand on her shoulder, pausing to listen, her eyes fixed on his. She smiles softly. "You don't need to promise anything," she informs him. What would he promise? At his words and the hair-ruffle, she purses her lips as if she's thinking of speaking. A moment passes, but she evidentally decides against it. Embarrassed, she gives him a playful glare as she reaches up to smooth her hair. Now she's going to have to re-braid it! She does get bowls and plates and everything sorted before they sit. "I think I need to get out of here. Perhaps stay somewhere else for a while. Take a...vacation," she muses while eating. The stew is good, and she compliments him on it as always. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman murmurs. "I am thinking the same, myself." He brushes off his tunic as he tucks in.     Om nom stew. "...Because I think I need to be an Adventurer again. A proper one. All of the rest of the Offworlders have done so much for Eorzea, I feel strange not reciprocating on that." He makes a face at the Urangier sized word, but it came out none the less. "I mean, I'll always be popping back to put out fires, but... I think I need to stretch my legs." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods in understanding. "I can understand that. There is nothing really to stop you," she says with a shrug. "And...I'm happy to patch you up when you need," she adds. Inga looks around the dining room, frowning gently. "This is my place...but it was also...our place. Maybe I need a little distance from that," she says, brow furrowing. "...though it hurts to even say it." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha just stays quiet at the Statement for a moment or two. If there's one thing he's not trying to do, it's replace The Wizard. But.     She needs to figure things out. And if he can help wit hthat, he's happy to. He polishes off his stew, and then sets his spoon down, looking across to Inga. "How can I help?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' She doesn't think he's trying to. It's just being surrounded by memories makes it very difficult to get yourself out of a certain mental state. There's a lot to be said for a change of scenery. There's a short laugh. "Kidnap me and get me into trouble. Adventure," she says, a bit of mischief in her eye. "Or at least a lead on somewhere to take a nice vacation. I have a bit of money now. I could...travel." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The sparkle is matched. "Done. Give me some time and we'll go get get lost or something." A laugh, and Raha's tail swishes. "That's what got me into this mess in the first plac,e I'm sure we can find something while Auphinaud works out his new Grand Plan with the Alliance." Ugh, politics. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Interesting things tend to happen when one gets lost. It's a big multiverse and we are very difficult to kill. Let's see what happens," she laughs. 
}}

6941/The Legacy of Allag

2019-12-18T05:08:57Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/12/17 |Location=The Labyrinth of the Ancients |Synopsis=On the outskirts of Mor Dhona lies the great Crystal Tower, a towering edifice and las..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/12/17
|Location=The Labyrinth of the Ancients
|Synopsis=On the outskirts of Mor Dhona lies the great Crystal Tower, a towering edifice and lasting testament to the mighty power of the Allagans. And now mere mortals seek to plunder it. But how? Join Raha, Cid Garlond and other surprise guests as the plot to crack open the Tower begins!
|Cast of Characters=819, 7132, 6, 1086, 7055, 598, 6802, 7148, 994, 6807, 525, 7160
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The path out of Mor Dhona leads through the remains of... a lot of wreckage, towering masses of corrupted crystals, and a small ramshackle research hub of the Sons of Saint Coinach. And further down the path? There's a large gathering of... well. Stuff. Someone has cracked open their goody store of Steampunk-ish loooking equipment, there's several Magitek Armors and what appears to have been a large series of barriers that have been smashed to bits by a large energy weapon bolted to the ground. Ahead of that, a great door floats and waits for access.     Standing near the controls of The Device are a Man Clad In Red and Sunglasses who's probably Nero tol Scaeva, judging by the Smug Aura that floats off of him. He appears to be waiting for an audience.     Off to the side, are a pair of Catboys. People will recognize one of them as N'raha, his helmet off and his red armor glinting with the light of the crystals. A sullen looking cat fellow is lingering around as well, his red ears twitching a bit at the commotion that's going on. 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' A small white-haired boy with a blindfold-esc visor over his eyes arrives with the group of adventurers.  His outfit is similarly black, being a small coat and short pants.  Boots made for walking and probably some sort of advanced leather-like material protect his feet, and a pair of finger-less gloves cover his hands.  Hovering near him is a small black box with arms, seemingly facing things once in a while as if looking at them.   Though right now, it was easy to see what the boy was looking at.  He was staring up at the Crystal tower itself.  It was...well amazing.  It was beautiful, breathtaking to be right under it like this.  The damaged barriers get his attention after a few moments of awe, using the black floating box to start scanning various pieces of the barrier to start collecting data. "Hello, I'm I4 representing the Paladins," He offers a hand to anyone willing to take it, and awkwardly stands there if nobody does until he coughs and puts it away.  "So uh...ancient wonder needing to be cleared out and studied?  That's pretty cool!" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has had enough experience around this world to find her way to Mor Dhona easily enough. She'll come flying in for a landing near N'Raha it seems Nero's invitation and caught her attention. If the main had ditched the Empire she wasn't about to go head-hunting the man and if he was offering a lead this juicy how could she say no to it? She would pull her wings into her back and banishes them in a flash of light as she makes for the catboy she knows that being N'Raha. "Hey N'Raha good to see you so you excited about a lead like this? I sure the heck am." Even if she considers her own magic to bd fake actual honest to go magi-tech had her attention. The towering woman has a big grin on her face and seems in good spirits even with the possibility of others poking about this place aside from N'Raha and anyone else. She did take note of I4 as he was here just a bit before her. "Can't leave something like this alone, can we? Some old weapon systems might fire up and rampage about if we don't right?" She seemed glad to see I4 here given his actions back on her world he's worked his way into her good partying with list. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      There are these times when it's not really Seifer Almasy at the wheel.      Metaphorically. Seifer always makes all the decisions in his own body. But *OCCASIONALLY*, there are these times when a certain pink-and-yellow-polkadot voice gets so loud and so obnoxious about something that he just can't ignore it. And he tries. Oh, lord, does he try. He will sit there at his Concord desk or fight Moon Cell programs or just stare at his dinner or his wife for *hours* trying to block out the noise. Tamamo has probably more than once found Seifer sitting, staring at a wall, with a look of unbelievable irritation on his face.      But in the end, Seifer inevitably throws up his hands, grabs Hyperion, and gives in, because his headmate can be more annoying than he can put up with.      This is one of those times.      The Fox Knight, the Hand of the Concord, the King of the Moon, the Kind-Of-A-Big-Deal, is here not for his own interests, but for those of GilgameshGreg, the Guardian Force that rides side-saddle, eats his memories, and gives him superpowers. He's going along with it because the Guardian Force is *absolutely convinced* that there's something worth getting in this Crystal Tower, that there's SOMETHING that the Guardian Force can add to its collection of weaponry worth having. For his part, Seifer's just figuring that a place called Crystal Tower might have some nice magic stuff for Tamamo.      Seifer is a gruff-looking guy. He's handsome, in that square-jawed knightly way; he's got cropped blonde hair and a scar down his face that makes him look twice as scary as he is, and right now, he's got a sharp and irritated frown. He's a big guy, with a weird-looking gun-sword hybrid slung over his shoulder, long and thin and sabresque.      As people introduce themselves, he just looks annoyed. He introduces himself anyway.      "Seifer Almasy, Fox Knight, Hand of the Concord, King of the Moon, Kind of a Big Deal."      He doesn't say much more than that. He does, however, look like he's got a headache he's biting back and he's real pissed-off about it. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:'''     Majima is wearing his Adventurer Equipment. That is to say, he's come in a white, shiny suit, wearing a headband with feathers sticking out of it. He's still got his eyepatch, and he looks exceedingly garish. How else does one fit in with the crazy adventurers of Eorzea? .. Exactly. That's what I'm talking about. You see? That's the kind of planning that Majima does. He's swaggering, because of course he is, an entirely too enthusiastic grin on his face. He's headed right up to Nero. N'raha's boring, y'know. "..Eh? Ya look like the kinda guy who was talkin' on the radio earlier, eh? Majima Goro. President of Majima Construction." Nero receives one of his business cards. Made out of steel, and weirdly sharp edges. He pauses, turning to Seifer and tapping his chin a moment. "...How come ya don't have business cards, anyway?" 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     "Well now. You have gained my attention."     A circle of light draws itself nearby the assembling group, the silhouette of Lezard Valeth resolving into existence before he gains definition. If Nero is the Defining Smug in the area, Lezard probably registers somewhere on the Defining Evil Wizard axis.     As the teleportation circle vanishes, the Sorceror of Midgard casually steps forward, taking a look at the device, the ruins, the Door, the Tower. "Mmm.... Quite the imposing edifice, is it not?" He asks rhetorically. "It seems that you will be wanting my expertise after all. One must separate the wheat from the dross, after all. I am Lezard Valeth, Sorceror of Midgard." He shrugs, smiling at that. "So... Nero tol Scaeva, is it? What must we do to proceed?" 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      "'cause if you need business cards for people to remember your name, you ain't there yet," Seifer says to Majima, his brows furrowed deep. 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' The notion of untold riches isn't what draws Jeanne to the research hub today, even if it does help make the decision easier. It's not the promise of unearthing powerful discoveries long forgotten, although that certainly helps as well. It's the traps. Namely, the idea that there could be traps that may very well end up with several people being maimed terribly. That and boredom have the Dragon Witch approaching the trio in red, decked out in her own blackened armor and shouldering an overly large banner that flaps incessantly behind her. "I'll be disappointed if these traps prove to be duds." She adjusts her helm to get some of that practically white hair out of her face, then raises an eyebrow as more familiar voices start to make themselves heard. "But... I'm sure we'll find something worthwhile to fight sooner or later. Now when are we going in?" 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The first thing people will probably notice as Team Skull approaches, is the giant spider leading the pack. Ariados is scouting ahead, red-and-black body, yellow-and-purple legs and spinnerets, one single white horn like a unicorn on its head. Behind it trails Guzma, white-haired, golden shades, golden chain and bracelets and watch, black jacket, purple tattoos on his arms. He looks exhausted, a little worn out and fatigued. Following that is Tupp, Rapp, and Zipp. Tupp is blue-haired wit ha skull cap and bandana, slim. Rapp is a purple-haired girl with a bandana and skull cap, while Zipp is a bit stocky, short brown hair, bandana, and cap. They approach the Man In Red, Nero tol Scaeva, and flash gang signs. Tupp, Rapp, and Zipp begin doing a hip-hop dance behind Guzma, hyping him up, while Guzma speaks. "Big bad Guzma in the house. Concord represent!" Seifer's annoyance is Noticed, and he gives the boss man some space, letting his image be added to Guzma's mental collection. All three of the trio, additionally, are wearing big backpacks, the type you store loot in. They're black, like they're school backpacks. The Ariados also has a big bag strapped to it. "So, there's gonna be loot in here, is that right? Magiwhassitechnology. Sounds great, call dibs." Guzma smiles, teeth pearly white, and then tilts his head at Tomoe. "Who the heck cares about that? Treasure's way more exciting than that, give me a break, 'hero'." 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' "You can't call dibs on stuff that might be usable in there like this.  There is (probably) a method for evenly distributing loot that is fair based on the work you put into it," I4 responds to Guzma, with a hand on his hip.  "I think it's something about rolling a d100 dice to figure out who gets it." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     Despite all the dangers facing it Eorzea is still one of the worlds that Athela feels the most comfortable in. Both from the many quests assisting N'Raha, and having some likeness (both good and bad) to her own. Bayern has less conquering empires and more cultists, but there's more coincidental similarities than she can count on one hand. That's not what we're here for though, we're here because a cocky man is proclaiming the discovering of ancient sources, and these things in her experience tend to have considerable dangers accompanying them. A call to action if ever she heard one. The young knight marches up to the science camp.. Only to take pause at seeing something familiar skitter by. ".. Huh." Her Vaporeon stops at her side, also watching the Ariados pass. "Did not expect to see more Pokemon here." The bizarre gestures of the goons behind their boss is lost to her though. That's a big crowd to contend with, so she remains off the side, wandering closer to where N'Raha and the other catman linger, giving a familiar nod to the former. "Seems like your... aquaintence," head bob at Nero's general vicinity, "has drawn quite the attention." Vaporeon sits next to her, the merefox still watching the odd skull-themed people and their spider-mon. Hopefully they're not another cult, don't need more of those. 

:'''{{#var:6807|Melisandre Lebeau (6807)}} has posed:''' Melisandre Lebeau is happy to go visit other worlds and stop incoming apocalypses, in-potentia apocolypses, and in a couple of odd cases, already occured ones. She's also just down to, you know, kind of explore other worlds. It doesn't take her a lot to get out of Kingsmouth, after all. She just kind of casually follows Majima and Seifer (fellow Concord-mates), nods to them, and then keeps strolling off to go examine the two catboys, with the sort of fascination that comes from being in a group with Staren. However, something catches her attention, and her eyes slide over to 14. There's a pause. Then, barely audibly for G'raha and N'raha - "Goddesses, that's not fair at all." She circles them, then goes wandering off again to look at the shiny pile of equipment. Yeah, no, she's not getting into the dibs argument. She's just here to ... ex...plore? 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' Jeanne laughs derisively when I4 brings up fair distribution. "Or whoever grabs it first takes it. If you want to get more, then you should hurry up." It's certainly not a ploy to get people to charge to their deaths, right? 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro idly has a bento lunch. He ...didn't before, but now he does. He's casually just snacking on it, taking the time inbetween bites of food to drink from the bottle of beer he also didn't have before, but now does. "...It ain't about them rememberin ya name," He says to Seifer. "Business cards are just, ya know, part of life." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's more than a little hubub from the small crowd as people start to trickle in. Raha turns in place to wave to Tomoe and then I4. "Oh. good people who aren't uh... here to tip it over and just suck out the insides, that's... that's great." He pushes a hand through his hair, and holds out his hand to some of the others. Jeanne and Athela, for instance. He recognizes Athela from many many exploits in the past, but Jeanne is a new one on him. He smiles at her and bows a bit. "N'raha, Warrior of Light. Nice to see new and pretty faces out here." but for the most part the crowd seems to be gravitating towards Nero. And that's just fine with him. Raha's here for... other Reasons. Though Lezard gets an especially withering look. Who the hells let him in here. The bastard.     Nero glances at all the people introducing themselves to him. He won't remember any of their names. It's clear from the look on his face that he simply can't be bothered; people are going to have to prove themselves to him, and that's probably a hill that's not worth climbing. Guzma's gang signs are the first thing he actually acknowledges, slowly lowering his glasses to give him an unimpressed stare. He has bright eyes.      "In any case," Nero says, boredly, "These are the Rahas. Miqote run out of names every couple years, but don't worry. You won't need to tell them apart. They're both equally-"     The hackles raise on both the Warrior of Light and the other kid, and Nero cuts himself off before he says anything else. Controls are much more interesting. The redhead catboy speaks up. "I'm G'raha. I'm here to keep an EYE on Nero and also let the rest of you in." A hand reaches up to push at his hair, and it's clear that the young man has mismatched eyes. "It's a very long story, but I'm the key to the whole place." 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      "Aight," Seifer says, because he absolutely won't remember any names after this is over, "Then open the door, guy. Wastin' time." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro gave Nero a business card for a reason. You see? Genius. He's still eating his food as Nero talks, nodding a bit. "...Yeah, I see the family resemblance, I get it, yeah." Whether or not he actually knows what the deal is is up for debate. As it should be. "...I mean, I'm still eatin' if the guy wants ta give us his life stor--ah, whatever." He can walk and eat. Why not. 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' I4 just puts a hand across his head while people already getting ready to just sack the place mercilessly and drag everything out.  Worse, he is sure people are going to get angry about stuff and light everything on fire.  A glance is made to Jeane, remembering the last time she got serious.  His skin remembers the burns.   "The Key to this place?" He asks G'raha, curious about what that means.  "How are you the key to this place?  I thought nobody has been inside it before?" actual genuine curiosity.  Rather than just trying to get passed the backstory bit.   He gives a glance towards Nero, pretty much figuring the man out.  Well, as far as not wanting to climb the mountain for his respect.  A wave is given to Tomoe, who has been a rather good ally before. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe looks at Guzma for a moment then ignores him and looks over to Seifer whom she's very well aware of how much power in the concord. She's about to say something to Seifer when it seemed to be sorted out over the comm she does glance at Guzma but says nothing. She doesn't seem startled by the pokemon she seems to know of them but maybe not the types that Team Skull has with them. Majima is also noted that man seems like he'd be in trouble here but she knows what he could do. IF anything Majima will od something to make he go what the heck before the end of this crawl. She does look to Guzma for a moment. "You're all trainers I presume? You with a Gym I haven't heard of?" She gets an interesting impression of Nero he reminds her of a pre-SAO raid guild leader she knew of. This was going to be an interesting day she grins at N'Raha for a moment until G'raha speaks up and she takes a look at him nodding for a moment. "Some sort of lock is set on it to you? Interesting." This could get messy but she's going to try to keep to good spirits about things, right? She'll get moving and keep pace with everyone pushing to get upfront as she said she would. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' Guzma is set on taking as much as he can. He wants it. He needs it. The unimpressed stare is registered, and Guzma immediately decides that Nero isn't worth his time and is just a poser, because that soothes his ego. So, he walks near the rest of the Concord as they approach, and says pretty clearly to the others. "Alright. So, Ariados has really strong webs. Really tensile. He can climb on walls, too. We need to cross any weird gaps or anything, I've got that handled." Guzma seems pretty confident. How bad could this be? 

:'''{{#var:6807|Melisandre Lebeau (6807)}} has posed:''' Hearing what she does, Melisandre loops back around, peering at G'raha. Then N'raha. Then G'raha. "You have very similar names, but are not exactly siblings, yes? This is my first time visiting your world. Do the prefixes have to do with some sort of rank within your ... clan? Group? Tribe?" She asks, walking backwards so she can watch the two catboys while still moving. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer, as they walk, pulls a wallet out of his coat and flashes it at Majima. It is a very nice wallet. It is leather. It has a fox-head keychain on the end, a stylized triangle with two more triangles on top, the same as his third necklace. It is some sort of very fancy leather.      "Oughta be friggin' over my moon," He says to Majima, "Card ends up in this wallet and you *know* I care enough to remember your name." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro has been busy conversing with Seifer over incredibly important matters. As Seifer flashes the wallet, he covers his face with splayed hand, shaking it slowly. "Arright, arright, still kinda weird, but if /ya insist/, I'll put it down ta cultural differences," He dismissively waves his hand, looking back up to the tower. "...Least I'm feelin' fired up for this crap, now, y'know?" He's still finishing off his beer, at least, looking around. "...Ehhh. Arright. Ya think they're gonna crack it open this year?" 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Same name but different tribes, if Athela recalls correctly how the Mi'quote name technique goes. She gives N'Raha's offered hand a brief shake of familiarity, then turns her attention to G'Raha as he reveals his unusual eyes and mentions being a key. At this point Nero and the crowd about him is put aside for a moment, this is much more interesting and possibly useful later. She makes a short bowing gesture to the mismatched mi'quote. "Athela Valemore, Knight-Errant of Keldeo.. Not that it would mean much to you." The introduction is just a force of habit. "We have assisted N'Raha several times, that is enough." Instead she jestures at her Pokemon, that could almost be mistaken for a carbunkle with fins. "And this is my partner, Sprite." Sprite wags a forepaw and chrrs, sounding like a light brook babbling. Then she does finally turn her attention to the rest of the gathering. "Sounds as if others are eager to get to work." Her gaze does fall on Nero again briefly. But she's trying to not let the 'former engineer of Garlean Empire' comment color her opinion. People -can- change, after all. 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' As Jeanne gets a better look at everyone that's arrived, she finds herself feeling both intrigues and bored by people in equal measure. I4's caution draws a dull satre from the Avenger despite the practicality in it. Tomoe recognizing N'raha gets another poker face, although it might be more from the latter complimenting her more than anything else. N'raha himself, though, gets an odd sort of smile in turn. It's definitely not a pleasant smile, but it's... A smile of sorts. "Jeanne d'Arc, Dragon Witch of France. I look forward to seeing how you fare in there." Her tone suggests she's not hoping for that to go well. Guzma, meanwhile, gets an amused chuckle at that gung-ho attitude, and she looks towards Seifer and Majima as they go about some strange business with cards and wallets. "Is that really so important? I thought you were knights and... Construction workers, not petty businessmen." She just doesn't seem to understand. Melisandre... She's not sure what to make of that one yet. Athela, though, doesn't get even a slightly masked look of annoyance. "Oh. You're here, too." Jeanne spits off to the side, then grins as Lezard comes into view. "Ah, the one that wanted to kill the gods or some such. Don't disappoint me." And with that Jeanne starts heading towards the tower! She slows down when G'raha introduces himself and talks about his importance to the tower, but quickly speeds up once it sounds like he's going to... TALK. Naturally, she's going to start kicking at the door. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Lezard looks directly back to N'raha, a smile on his face as the Warrior of Light provides him with that withering look. He puts a hand to his chest and gives a florid bow in response, absolutely putting the boot in on the Fighting Catman and wordlessly declaring his intention to Be Right Here, Thank You Very Much.     Nero's haughty attitude doesn't even seem to dampen Lezard's spirits as he turns to swivel his gaze over to the other catboy. He squints at the mismatched eyes, frowning for a moment contemplatively. Instead, however, he simply gestures, indicating what Seifer said. "Then be about it, and quickly. This is not a social gathering, the scent of angry cat is far too prevalent for my tastes."     He is not getting anywhere near the business card discussion. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is not late. A witch arrives precisely when she means to, etc. etc. Whatever, she is here suddenly, leaning on her walking stick as she makes her way over to join the surprisingly large crowd. Her eyebrows rise at the sight. Clearly she hadn't expected so many to come. She looks to N'Raha as she moves to his side, smiling to those others she knows in greeting. "Big crowd," she murmurs to him. That's probably good? Could make for lighter work, or complicate things. Inga looks between N'Raha and G'Raha. That's not going to be confusing at all, nope. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Frankly, G'raha looks VERY RELIEVED at Seifer and Majima, and happily starts to head for the gates of the Tower, N'raha keeping up beside him. Tails are swishing, ears are flicking. The pair of Miqo'te are pretty excited and or agitated about this. G'raha speaks up as he traverses over the remains of what was a Magitek Gate that lay unmolested for eons. "The Allagans date back to over 5000 years ago, and THIS is their capital, or one of them anyways. They ruled for millenia and then perished in flames at the end of the Fourth Calamity. But in that time, they... pretty much created, perfected and then lost the pinnacle of magitechnology." He waves a hand to Nero's contraption behind the group. "Which the Garleans are ever so pleased to pick apart and use for themselves."     "As frustrating as it is to be dealing with two of the same airheaded cat," Nero says, not looking up from the console, "We require at least G'raha Tia's aid to access the systems of the Crystal Tower. He carries the Eye of Allag, a unique signifier that allows him to interact with and activate its magitek. Probably."     Nero holds up his finger. "Rather, it allows him to interact and activate most Allagan Magitek, and since the Crystal Tower is Allagan in origin, it stands to reason."     N'raha pointedly ignores Nero and then looks to Melsi, honestly surprised by the question. His ears sort of flatten out and then he taps at his chest. "I'm with the N' tribe, and he's with the G' tribe and... uh. Raha is a somewhat common first name among the Miqo'te." It's like if they'd both been named Frank or Jim, I guess. He pats at his armor, and then dons his helmet as Jeanne takes off and charges at the main gates. He pulls the rather Large Ax he's got from his back and trots after her. Time to pick up the pace, apparently.     Jeanne's the first one there, kicking at the doors, and despite her rather Servant Like Strength, they do not budge.     G'raha's presence, however, starts to have an effect, the large doors starting to shiver and rumble in anticipation. The redhead catman huffs, and then peels back the hair covering that rather striking Eye of his and steps forward to start pushing at the doors, trying to get them open. "I would have had some method of doing this earlier but with the gates in the way I-"     The doors do not open, but rather vanish altogether, and an elaborate energy pathway opens up in their place, projecting a coherent light bridge up and into the facility. The moment Jeane tries to kick again, and crosses the threshold? She vanishes in a wash of light, that's matched at the far side of the bridge. Nero, having ghosted the group, immediately lets out a happy breath, and charges in after the Servant. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      The door opens as G'raha starts talking. It's a long speech about Allagan technology. Seifer, bless him, actually does try and follow it; he won't REMEMBER any of it, but he tries to follow it. He nods at the right times; he says the right things to show interest; he really, honestly is interested. But...well. It's basically a coinflip. He'll find out later if it manages to stick.      "Fourth calamity, huh," Seifer says. "Sounds rough. You guys had a lot of those, I'm guessin'."      And then the door opens.      Well that's cool.      Jeanne vanishes. Nero goes running in. Seifer walks in right behind. He's generally up front. He's a confident guy, and a meleer besides.      He does, however, take the time to flash his wallet at Majima again, with a look of *seriously* on his face, because he's not letting that go. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro taps his forehead, listening as Nero and the two cats bicker. And explain cat history. Which, y'know, that's two more topics of history than he signed up for, he figured this was just gonna be some rad-- ...It occurs to him, briefly, what he could absolutely do, under the right circumstances. Yes. He's going to have to keep his eye open for the right opportunity...yes. He looks up to see Jeanne kick a door and vanish. And then the sunglasses guy run after her. Looks like things are finally starting. Good. He picks up his pace, legs and arms moving rhythmically. He is, absolutely, without question. As Seifer flashes his wallet, Majima is ready this time. He is holding up a stainless steel business card holder. It's engraved with 'Maji' on the front. It glints in the light. Seifer gets a shrug of surprising insistence and meaning, before he follows along into the--oh, right, tower of ancient magitechnology full of who knows what. He lost track, what with the other thing. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' As the door open and things are explained, Guzma just kinda listens over. As Jeanne disappears, Nero runs after him, and Seifer walks in behind, the Team Skull Trio looks between each other, as Guzma shouts out. "Team Skull, let's go!" And then, the whole group walks into the light, Ariados at the front to intercept any dangers. 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' "The eye of Allag?  Huh...well, Mr. G'raha, if you don't mind I'd like to run some scans on you.  They're not invasive, I just need my POD here to scan your eyes so I can run the data through my systems to double check the data." The door opens, well rather /vanishes/ completely.  Once the Servant goes in, she vanishes, which causes I4 to tilt his head slightly.  I4, without hesitation, runs right in after her because the last thing he wants is her anywhere near ancient secrets to burn. Because she burns things. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Impressive," is all Athela has to say of the door opening sequence. Let's keep this on the move before some horrific trap springs to life around them. Though not be hasty about it, that's just as dangerous. "Be on your guard." Athela draws her sword-glaive, Resolute Blade gleaming a bit as she does, and moves to follow but protectively in front of G'Raha as the group proceeds. "We know not what waits ahead." If he's the key to this, so to speak, he's important enough to protected, and as a knight it is her duty to do so. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer gives the card holder a long, long look as they walk in.      He sighs, and pushes his wallet back into his inner coat pocket. OK. He hasn't admitted defeat. He's just chosen to agree that that's pretty impressive. 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' Despite going for the door, Jeanne does slow down in her kicking as G'raha speaks. She doesn't stop entirely, and she probably didn't catch all of it, but there are a few choice tidbits to take away from that. One: G'raha's useful, at least for getting through this place. Two: That's about it. She keeps kicking even as the door fades, stomping down on the ground in front of her to catch herself at the sudde displacement. "... Hm. Impressive, if they really made this place so long ago. But it'll take more than a teleportation spell to kill anyone!" She shouts in challenge at nobody in particular, then starts advancing once more while her banner continues flapping behind her. "They know a thing about presentation. This place could make for a good arena..." She comments, glancing back as everyone starts filing in while continuing to move ahead steadily. "So. They have the technology for weaponry and movement, but what of their food?" Priorities. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sighs softly as N'Raha takes off after some of the others. She'll be in the back, per usual, attempting to keep them all alive. So she looks to G'Raha, listening as he explains. "And how is it that you came into possession of this artifact?" she asks. The heterochromia is noteworthy as well. She's spent a lot of time in this world, and she's not seen red eyes such as that. When her gaze moves to take in the others, she feels a familiar tug, her eyes drawn to Melisandre. A small smile. "Ah, another," she remarks. ...And so the rushing in continues, and Inga grumbles. Well, if they move too fast for her, they just won't get healing. Hmph. 

:'''{{#var:6807|Melisandre Lebeau (6807)}} has posed:''' "Awesome." Melsi breathes as she watches G'raha do his thing. However, she lags a bit behind. "Ah, so it's like a surname, but it's ... prefixed. Okay. That's pretty cool, and good to know. I wouldn't want to insult anyone, anyways. Wait, four calamities? Want me to go stop the third?" A pause, then she puts on some speed and bounces into the light after everyone else. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is making mental notes about what G'Raha has to say about the Allagans this sounds pretty serious. So is this where the Garleans magitech came from? Either reverse engineered Allgan or them finding out a lost bit of understanding of how it worked so they could make their own creations? This certainly sounded pretty serious and honestly interesting given she did enjoy history back when she went to a normal school. She also catches sight of Inga as she's popped in as well. She looks to Jeanne kicking on the door and getting nothing she'll stop as G'Raha gets there and the doors just full-on vanish leaving the way in clear. With this being the state of things Tomoe can get a good look and lets out a low whistle. "Impressive." As people keep going in? She's going to do the same right after Jeanne and anyone 

:'''{{#var:6807|Melisandre Lebeau (6807)}} has posed:''' There's a bit of a moment, and-- Melsi swings around, here and there, pausing as her senses settle. "Hi!" She greets Inga. "Funny finding someone else here." 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     "It is quite impressive, at least from out here. Perhaps what lies within will be even more interesting." Lezard smiles. "Still, why leave the mysteries of the Allagan to the Garleans when much superior hands are right here to take advantage of them?"     Lezard glances over to Nero at the explanation. "The Eye of Allag? So the otherwise unremarkable cat-man happens to also possess the secrets of accessing this place." He sighs. "How curious fate must be."     He turns to watch the doors indeed respond to the gifted Miq, and he arches an eyebrow at the energy path. "Fascinating." He says to himself. "Such a display of power strikes one as almost excessive, does it not? A physical bridge would be far more efficient."     Lezard kneels next to the lightbridge, and examines it for several seconds, pursing his lips. "Mmmm...." His expression inscrutable for the moment, he stands and takes the bridge after them. 

:'''{{#var:7160|Mauve Gauntlet (7160)}} has posed:''' Mauve swoops between the various crystals, the chain gauntlets hooking onto each as she approaches the Tower. It got more and more impressive the closer she got, and it was honestly kinda pretty. Once she gets to the tower, she unhooks from the wall, landing in a three-piint crouch, hoping everyone could see her awesome maneuver...Aaaaaand everyone's gone inside already. Well, there goes that plan. "W-Wait for me!" She shouts, armor clinking a bit as she gets out of her dramatic pose and slips in behind everyone else. She takes the bridge across, too, taking a moment to really admire it. Of course, now there's a short, purple armored doll-person standing in the middle of the bridge behind them that wasn't there before. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Indeed, it has been some time since I've met another. I'm Inga Freyjasdottir," she introduces, looking her over once more. "I sense you use blood magic as well. Excellent. We will have our work cut out for us, I'm sure," she adds with a roll of her eyes, then does her best to keep up with the group. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''                                  FULL PARTY                                                        --LABYRINTH OF THE ANCIENTS--                             The party is rather comfortably deposited, upright and on foot in the main entrance of what is... a very ornate and elaborate and... frankly massive foyer. Is this an actual castle? A capital? Some place where people live? No. No this is not. This is in fact someplace wholly unwelcoming and awesome. Grand sweeping architecture towers over the party, and astride either side of the massive walkway they enter in on, there's a seething, roiling sea of blindingly bright amber liquid that washes up against the foundations and pillars of this place. Gouts of the aetheric liquid spray high into the air and wash down from fountains in the wall. It would appear that you all have found the... sewers or power plant or something. This clearly isn't the main entrance.     G'raha and Nero are already pulling out their own separate devices to take readings and measurements, pointedly ignoring EVERYONE ELSE. Questions later, right now they're figuring out where the hell this is and what the hell is going on here.     N'raha, for his part, sighs and hefts his ax a few times. Ahead of the group is a series of stairs and a vast crossroads that leads in many directions. "...A maze. A Maze that's literally floating on a sea of magic. Great." A glance across the crowd and... yeah, no this is going to interest FAR TOO MANY people here. He clicks his teeth and sidles closer to Inga, his tail flicking and puffing up.     ((THEME SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Gkz0YYrIrc )) 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' "Wow," I4 says, in awe.  This place was amazing if this was their sewer he can't imagine what the other levels looked like.  Of course, this could have been a power plant as well.  Taking it all in, he coughs and then finally looks around to try and get a good feel of this place.   "POD, Wide-area scan, and start IDing irregularities and curiosities," he says, as he brings up a holographic screen and starts typing on a holographic keyboard.   He starts trying to map the area, trying to ID anomalies and where to best start searching first.  "Uh-huh, you can do whatever you want," he says absent-minded towards Seifer.  This was FAR too interesting for him to not give most of his full attention. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      G'raha and Nero go off on their own. Seifer apparently could not give less of a damn. He says over the radio, "Aight, so, since there's like seven Concord here, an' the rest of you are freelancin', I'm makin' the executive decision - we're goin' left, 'cause goin' right seems like somethin' you shouldn't do. Y'all can go right if you want to but the Concord's goin' left, so, good luck on your own."      And then, like a proper Gunbreaker, he just starts walking up the leftmost staircase. He's main tanking, what more do you want? 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' Now things are getting significantly more impressive. Jeanne can practically taste the potential for maiming in the air, and she finds herself grinning while she draws her blade from its sheath. "This is more like it... Maybe I shouldn't be getting my hopes up, but if everything works as well as those fountains, then there should plenty of ... Something or another to fight." Chuckling to herself, she raises an eyebrow as Seifer takes the lead to head towards the left. "Hm. Lead the way, then, oh brave knight." Still smirking, she pauses briefly to watch where I4's going as well as G'raha and Nero, but... Well. Jeanne's not exactly the investigative sort, and the only slight bit of testing she does is tossing a fireball into a fountain to see what happens before continuing onwards. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore lets out a soft and slightly exasperated sigh as both Nero and G'Raha are distracted by doing their science/magic research things, and everyone else is either in awe of the architecture or too eager to rush ahead. Then looks down at her Vaporeon. "Stay with those two, keep an eye on them." Keep them out of trouble and/or killing each other for whatever reason. Then peers up the stairs. A lot of this doesn't sit right with her... but sometimes the only way to deal with a potential trap is to spring it, before someone more at risk does. So, with weapon in hand, she marches after the rest of the group, not really caring what way they go, since there's no way to know which way is what without exploring some. She's on high alert though, constantly watching for something to leap out and attack them, or spring a trap, or the dozen other things that exist just to grind adventurers into dust. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro is, in fact, going left. That said, this is clearly a dangerous locale. A dangerous locale filled with weird tides of obvious magical energy. This is also very clearly not the proper front door where you greet guests. And so, he prepares more properly. There is a click and a hiss, as he pops a can open. The word 'Tau---er' is visible around his hand, as he flares up with a pink fire. "..Arright," He declares, following right behind the 'main tank' as he finishes chugging the energy drink. "..That's how this crap works, right? Seifer, ya keep 'em turned away from me, and I'm gonna have a lot of fun and get crazy." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga smiles to N'Raha, placing a hand on his arm for a moment. "This does not seem the place to indulge in the Odin-rage. Keep your head," she advises, then draws her knife from her belt, slices into her inner arm, then flicks a ward of N'Raha, followed by the others that look likely to charge into melee. Inga takes a moment to look around the room, shaking her head. It makes her feel very small. Not that she isn't used to that. "Left seems as good a direction as any," she sighs. Stairs. Always with the stairs. Time for backpack healer. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe jaw hangs open for a moment Tomoe has seen a lot in her time in the multiverse. The strange amber liquid which could be lava it could be not? She's not sure but either way, this isn't the main way in they found what could be a service way in and if this is the service way in? What would the main part of the tower look like? She would find out soon enough she thought and she looked to N'Raha for a moment and says. "It's up there with the floating castle from back home and then some. Come on let's get to it. I suspect there's likely something now awake and not happy we're here." She breaks into a run. As this happens? She'll ready her shield and draw her sword as she moves. Given how many Concord are here she figured it would be a freelancing job as Seifer starts raid calling. It doesn't honestly bother her much at all. She'll head to the left as everyone moves out and she'll keep an eye on her comrade or for signs of other trouble that might be here. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' Guzma considers having the team split up, as they enter. But Seifer has already told them which direction to go in. And he's not going to disagree with the boss, especially when he wants to impress him, as fatigued as he is from a previous fight and the five-mile run he tried to take today and almost died from. As the liquid sprays, Ariados moves away, and the group starts heading up front. Rapp also grabs a Pokeball, releasing a purple blind bat from it. Ariados starts spraying light webs as far down and around a corridor as it can, feelinbg them to see if anything touches or interacts, trying to map the place. Zubat screeches, sending echolocation to bounce off walls and figure out what's ahead. Between the webs and the echolocation... They should be able to get a good idea of where to go. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Lezard resolves within the Tower. He is quite familiar with the sensation of teleportation... But the sight that greets him causes him to pause regardless. He looks around, staring at the manifest aetherfluid for several moments, his gaze then turning to the massive device hanging above them, then to the architecture. His eyes widen for a moment, a flash of... /something/ there, before it settles back into his typically wizardly gaze. "Impressive." He says simply. "Come, everyone. Let us cling together for the moment and deal with the inevitable guardians of this place. "The amount of raw power flowing through this edifice is phenomenal. The technique to harness this without degradation through the time it has undoubtedly been here would be masterful."     He glances over at Nero and G'raha, who both run off to do their thing, and he shrugs, sighing. "It seems our benefactors have found their own distraction. Let us do the same."     Lezard concurs with Seifer, letting him take the lead while he Black Mages in the back. 

:'''{{#var:7160|Mauve Gauntlet (7160)}} has posed:''' Oh hey, a familiar voice, kinda. Mauve follows the guy with the  sword up the staircase, because the tank always leads, and she's just melee DPS! Though... "Um...I might be able to scout ahead if we need extra eyes." Mauve says, holding up one of her gauntlets. 

:'''{{#var:6807|Melisandre Lebeau (6807)}} has posed:''' "Melisandre Lebeau. You with any of the three, in or out of our world?" Seifer declares which way they're going, and, well, he's the tank, it feels like, so Healers Adjust, and she trots after him. Admittedly, half of her gaze is on G'raha and N'raha, thoughtfully. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     I4 - You, along with G'raha and Nero are getting the same sorts of readings: This place is full of dangerous bullshit. Falling off the platforms will probably liquify you in that sea of magic. There's dark aspected critters all along the main floors of this place. The path that Siefer is main taking the party is particularly aspected towards toxins and Dead Things.     G'raha huffs a bit, pulling a pair of overly elaborate goggles from his face. "Why are there so many voidkin here? What... there isn't any reason for them to be in here."     "There isn't any reason for us to be in here, either," Nero says offhandedly, "Perhaps you aren't as special as you think you are. Maybe the Voidkin have the Eye of Allag, too. Or, far more likely, the Allagans were involved with this sort of science as well. It shouldn't take a genius to figure that out, but I suppose if you have one present, you may as well use all the resources at your disposal." G'raha rolls his eyes.     EVERYONE ELSE - N'raha, being a gentleman, hikes Inga up onto his shoulders and gives her a piggyback ride up and over the stairs.     The pathway to the left curves up and over the pool of Deadly Magic and into a lower level, that's merely hazardous looking, if not for a motley crew of voidkin that floats and wanders around on top of platforms. Floating eye monsters and skeletons and little demon imps all crowd around and seem like they're just waiting to fuck some shit up.     Unfortunately, that seems to be a crowd of heavily armed pile of offworlder adventurers. There's a general screeching of noise and rage from the trash, and they charge in at anyone they can reach. 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' And there's the first sign of combat. Although Jeanne had wanted to see people get maimed earlier and still wants to now, she's getting a little stir crazy already. Plus, there's things to let loose on that won't have people on her ass, and it's not every day she can just do that freely. "Stay out of my way if you don't want to die!" Jeanne bellows as she charges right into the fray, sword and spear-banner in hand as she thrusts, stabs, and immolates everything and anything she can get her weapon on. She's not going all out just yet, but it certainly looks like it as she gets that warmup in for whatever else the group may face relatively soon. Once the others start moving in, she'll dial it back just a bit to not burn herself out too early. 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' The POD raises an antenna from its black box.  -Scan Initiated.- It chimes in, as the screen slowly shuts down and I4 starts trying to catch up with the group.  He can scan a lot from here, sure, but scanning it from up close would be probably more valuable in data.   He can dump all of the readings later, and go through them to try and find more stuff out.  This place seemed like a treasure trove of energy. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga, from upon N'Raha's back, shakes her head at Melisandre's question. "No, I am not affiliated with any of those groups," she informs her. "Not that I was not approached...aggressively. But no." Once she's set down by N'Raha it seems combat is incoming. "Go on," she motions to the catman, and gets ready to cast. Fire seems appropriate, as there are a number of them. She tries to aim her blast so that it catches as many of the creatures as possible in it's radius. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima doesn't do 'dungeon crawls'. This one's a bit of a trip. His eye raises as what stands before them is not, say, a variety of angry men in suits, maybe one large man holding a couch over his head imperiously blocking a door way. This is skeletons and weird flappy babies. And eyes with wings, which, y'know, kinda poignant. Still, he is not Kazuma Kiryu. While he loves to rush into stuff like this, it seems like the bad time to do it. Jeanne rushes in right past him. He wasn't expecting that. He shrugs, and starts moving more rhythmically, arms crossing and uncrossing. And then there's a single skeleton that isn't paying attention to him. That's the one he goes for. He grabs onto its arm, leaping into the air. He kicks an Ahriman, using it to propel him forward, reaching around to grab onto the Skeleton's other arm as he kicks into an imp. And then he swings around, kicking into another skeleton--he's not -technically- pole dancing on the skeleton, but it makes an incredibly small level of difference. <<Mad Dog>> Majima Goro Level 50 Dancer (Synced) 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The party is making good time she'll have to trust in I4, G'raha and Nero for intel update which they deliver on. Voidsent and dead things? Oh that's concerning and soon she sees why. There are also environmental hazards that they were warned about as well as the poison and magic pools. "Undead too okay then." She'll chant a quick spell with golden runes dancing about her body. Tomoe then moves in taking care to avoid the hazards she was warned about and off will go her taunting abilities and she calls out. "Over here you want some of this come get it!" She'll then let loose an barrage of light rays to pull as many as she can on to her and she'll start trying to hold their attention once she's done that using her sword and shield to let the rest of the crew here be able to cut them down far more easily. "You want my spicey brains come get it!" 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The webs are triggered by the monsters, as is the echolocation. Both Pokemon make noises, and Guzma nods. Rapp has Zubat fly high above, while Guzma coordinates with her briefly in whispers before they move to attack. "Ariados. Toxic Thread!" "Zubat, Toxic!" Toxic threads spray of mouth and rear of the Ariados, weaving in between the giant mass of enemies and slowing them down, making it harder for them to move. They poison anything that touches them, debilitating and weakening with intense force. Acid, meanwhile, sprays out of Zubat's mouth, venom moving to coat all of the delightful monsters in as much poison as humanly possible. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore scowls briefly as Voidkin are brought up. "Are not these this world's equivilent to hellspawn?" she asks mainly of the catmen, though she's not going to be surprised if Nero pipes in simply because he believes he it smarter than the entire room. "Mayhaps they have something to do with the Allagans disappearance...." Sure enough, the rooms are full of them, whatever you want to call them. "It would appear the only way to proceed is through them." Though for a moment she regards the platforms, and the seething magics churning around them. A direct route through would be difficult, especially with needing to keep their Exposition Guests alive as well. That is not an issue the young knight needs to deal with right now, though. Those with the right senses (or scanning devices) would detect the brief swell of elemental energy around her, and then released in a burst of water to launch herself into the air. The angle catapults her up, and then down, at the same time as she thrusts her weapon out and ice crystallizes around the blade, aimed to plunge into the eye of one of the Ahrimans! If the lunging lance doesn't cripple it, hopefully the freezing cold that erupts on impact will. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Voidkin, huh.      Man these things are weird. They look like Heartless mixed with Shadows. Creepy things with too many mouths and too-big eyes and wings and all kinds of darkity dark dark about them. Skeletons, too. Skeletons are weird when they're not in a body.      Alright, well.      Jeanne goes charging in. Seifer's right beside her. He's not shouting, he's just *going* - him and Jeanne in the frontlines. Ariados's toxic webs fire out around them; Seifer moves as if he knows exactly where they are without looking, ducking and weaving through the webs, using them as cover, even getting in the way once to distract a Voidkin and then darting to the left to let the web take it. His own blade dances, just as Majima's doing - it whirls, it spins, and it moves at impossible angles, performing impossible stunts of impossible skill. More than once Seifer kills the momentum in the middle of a move to strike from the other side, or stabs and then stops stabbing midway through to turn it into a hilt-butt. Much of what he's doing isn't just hard, it's *literally* impossible.      He ducks around a blast of ice as Majima and Tomoe let loose their barrage, bringing his blade up into one of the skeletons' jawbones. Another skeleton gets Seifer's fingers inside its mouth, where he snaps.      The one with the blade in it is shaken apart as Seifer pulls the trigger. The skeleton with his fingers inside its mouth tries to clamp down a moment too late, as the Soul Power Gunpowder Blast rips apart its head from the inside.      Seifer takes charge at once.      "You," he points at Athela, "Go back up him," he points at Majima, "And get all over the battlefield! You're on lockdown!"      "You," he says to Guzma, "You get with her," he says to Tomoe, "An' protect her! Target loose problems that get past them!"      "You," he says to and Jeanne, "You're up here with me."      "An' the rest of you sorceresses-" and lezard- "stay back an' keep everybody up or shoot down anything gettin' too close to the Ranged Team!" 

:'''{{#var:6807|Melisandre Lebeau (6807)}} has posed:''' "Well, alright then." Melsi says comfortably. However, there is combat, and why can't she get away from the undead? What is going on with this world? With all of these worlds? Why can't the dead just stay dead?! She just has this annoyed, tired look on her face. Why, world(s).... why. However, things can't be helped, and after deciding on her favorite cat, she sinks her teeth into her thumb, drawing blood with such a casual motion she must do it a lot. Note to self, withdraw talisman later. That done, she turns her hand, blood at her fingertips, and flicks it towards the crowd of enemies. As the droplets take to the air, they solidify in a matter of moments, turning into literal blood darts. "So was this expected, or not?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Laser beams. Breakdancing. Swords. Shields. Spears. Acid Breath. It's all a full barrage on this flock of nasties and... Let's be honest, there's not a lot that this group of mooks is going to do to stop the full force of most of an alliance.     That said, I4, Inga and Melsi, alongside Raha will get the barest warning before- poison gas, noxious and cloying and scouring, starts to rush into the chamber, roiling and pooling at the deepest points, hampering people's movements, penning them in unless they want to start suffering the consequences.     And that's when the second wave of voidkin rush in, more frantic than the first. Something is driving them into the crowds.     There's a pack of skeletons that specifically try and flank the group, rushing the back line, heading for Guzma and Ina and Melsi, wading through the mist.     Jeanne and Seifer and Majima get rushed by a pack of flying Ahriman, wings flapping and eye beams lazering and curses spewing. There's something down this hallway that they're protecting, that's for sure.     Mauve and I4, taking up the trailing pack, get cut off by a squad of swooping Succubi.     Raha, because he doesn't care for his personal safety, charges up and through the fog next to Inga and Melsi, and grins a bit under his helmet, cracking a floating eye in the mouth with the flat of his ax. "This seems familiar, somehow." 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Lezard advances through the paths before him like he was walking through his own home. Mainly because this is basically like his own home with the dials cranked to 11 as far as he's concerned.     The creatures that bar his way look deadly enough, but there is an entire squad of elites, and Seifer is leading the way. Lezard simply walks through the battle and finds an appropriate position to place himself, before he begins bombarding the enemy groups with fire, lightning, and ice, laying waste to them with increasingly overkill blasts of magic. If the poison begins gathering where he is, or some of the minions attempt to drive him off, he simply teleports to another location and resumes his work. At least he is doing the favor of prioritizing targets based on who's not on Seifer. 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' I4 finally catches up, someone is shouting orders, but his priorities are focused on getting data for the rest of the group.  He's about to start running scans again when Voidkin started coming out from everywhere.  Including a pair of succubi that drop down at him.   With a sudden appearance of weaponry, a small long sword comes to his hand as he dashes up towards the Succubus, and attempts to counter her ambush with an assault of his own.  With hand movements, the sword moves at his command, aiming to slash at the voidkin, and attempts to knock her down to the ground.   This is followed up with a blast of explosive fire, aiming to detonate the creature, before landing.  With a bit of huffing, I4 shakes his head.  "Guess I'll have to defend myself in here.." 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima Goro has four real 'styles' of combat, meaningfully speaking. Luckily for everyone in this room that is not a voidsent, this one is the area of effect one. "EEEEEhehe-hahaha!" He's spinning with his back on the ground through the monsters, in continual little circles, swinging his legs around like a tornado. He gets up for just a moment, as two Ahriman--Ahrimans? Ahrimen? Regardless, there's one in front of him, and one behind, both of them powering up their eye lasers. And that's when his eye flashes. Heat Action: Essence of Friendly Fire He ducks under the first Ahriman, elbowing it in the back of its..bulbous body just in time for its ally to shoot directly into its eye. Now behind the two voidsent, Majima swings his fist around, punching one of the eye demons and sparking it to fire directly into its ally who just hit it, before he's already around, delivering another elbow to the back of the second one. Oh, hey, poison gas. He should probably do something about that. He cracks his neck, hopping up to a taller platform. Well. This cramps his style. He'll have to figure something else out if it's gonna stay like this. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods at Seifer's directions. It is sound tactics, as far as she can tell. "I will do just that," she responds, and keeps the fire coming until it looks like someone needs to be healed. She has her staff to help her channel the elemental magic in one hand and her knife for blood magic in the other. She lets out a small laugh as N'Raha passes. "It almost as though we fight monsters often, isn't it?" she quips. Or is it an Echo? The poison gas is troublesome, but she is fairly sure her and Melisandre can withstand that unpleasantness if necessary. An incling of the Sight leads her to look over her shoulder and spot the incoming skeletons, "Skeletons at our back," she says, then turns to face them. The air around her drops many degrees, ice crystalizing on the floor beneath her, the runes along her staff lighting up a cold, white-blue light as she casts an ice spell, her breath misting as she speaks the incantation. That should slow them down, at the very least. To Melisandre, she shoots an appreciative glance for her blood magic. "Nice," she compliments. 

:'''{{#var:7160|Mauve Gauntlet (7160)}} has posed:''' Mauve isn't a metal type avatar, so poison is /bad/ for her. She fires one of her fists at the oncoming succubus, hopefully pulling herself onto its face and out of the poison. She'll then punch it in the face with her other hand a few times. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The first wave of voidkin is like a wave on the shore that is the alliance. The monster break upon the power of the alliance and a second wave comes, on top of that there's poison rushing in and Tomoe is moving to get to higher ground as she was warned. As much as she'd like to fly in this situation. She needs to save her limited flight time in a situation like this for emergencies. She'll keep hacking and slashing he way thorough the monster as she gets to higher making for one of the inbound Succubi which she moves to slash and knock the flying voidkin out of the skies. The sounds of battle are all around her and the creatures keep coming, just how many were down here? It wasn't in her matter of mind if they would win, but /how long/ it would take to get to something that was a true threat. She was certainly far worse things would be sleeping in the depths of the tower, this was only the first encounter of likely many. 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' There's something oddly nostalgic about all of this. Not necessarily about fighting strange monsters and weird flying midgets, but fighting in a semi-coordinated group. Granted, those memories might not really belong, but... It keeps her a little more grounded for once. When Seifer starts throwing out strategy, Jeanne gets to work carving and stabbing everything in sight. When those Ahriman start harassing them, she goes right for those big dumb eyes and those goofy little limbs. Instead of just charging ahead blindly, though, she actually does her part in keeping the beefy knight's and the one-eyed construction worker's backs covered. When that poison gets called out, Jeanne even tries to do a bit of cleanup in the form of spreading fire. Lots of fire. Specifically, she leaves some burning patches of dark flames on the ground, partially to try slowing it down and partially to see what happens when magical fire interacts with... Whatever that purple ooze is. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore withdraws her weapon from the victim of her previous strikes, just in time for more mobs to descend towards them. She heard Seifer's shouts, there's just no time to give sort of response save a vage grunt of acknowledgement. Just act. Her jumping assault already has her on a platform, its the incoming assault that causes her divine intuition to flare. She whirls around, coming to face the skeletons trying to outflank the group from another direction. Lockdown and get all over the battlefield? She can do that. The hydrophilic knight springs into action, almost literally sliding across the platform towards the army of bones. As she closes in on them she slings out her weapon to hold it at full length, plants one foot and pushes off with the other. This throws her into a spin, the divine weapon unleashing a surging arc of water in it's wake, cutting through whatever the blade does not like a vicious riptide. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer's not all that worried about the poison gas.      Yeah, he's not exactly immune to poison, but what he is is really good at dealing with stuff that gets up in your lungs or your eyes or on your skin.      As soon as it starts coming his white coat is off. Strong arms bare to the shoulder bind it around his face. The coat's hanging parts are bound around his arms, while his pants are pulled up slightly and his gloves are trusted to do their work. In effect he's sealed himself off from the environment. And from seeing.      Aaaaand this doesn't stop him at all. In fact, if anything, he's fighting *more* precisely, *more* perfectly. A blade that had already surpassed common sense and physics is now moving with beyond-human capacity. Each slice hits twice. Each cut hits twice. His gunblade practically sings as it tastes Voidkin flesh; every pull of the trigger is a new drumbeat in a rhythm only Seifer can hear.      And evidently he can see just fine, too. That makes no sense, but he's clearly parrying attacks, even attacks that are coming from behind him in mid-swing at an impossible angle. He's dodging attacks he shouldn't be able to see, even if he had his eyes uncovered.      It's kind of weird to watch.      Seifer just *goes* into the mist. The crowd of Ahriman are cut down around him, unhesitating and unceasing. He's The Hero, after all. Nothing Super Bad is going to happen to him. He's also unwilling to let his mobility to be compromised - whatever, bring it on, poison mist, he'll just cut his way through. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' As the skeletons come and the poison fog rolls in, Guzma shouts out, as he starts moving towards a higher platform, quickly climbing as best as he can. "Ariados, Pin Missile." "Zubat, Venoshock!" The grunts move with Guzma, as Ariados suddenly /leaps/ out of the poison, firing several green-energize needles at the skeletons to rip through them and pin them to the ground and force them into its threads. Zubat, meanwhile, fires at anything that tries to move past him and Tomoe, the giant blast of purple poison this time doing /direct damage/, attempting to melt through any of the voidborn in its way. Guzma, clearly, does not fight himself. But he's /in sync/ with his Pokemon, as is Rapp. They know how to command them. 

:'''{{#var:6807|Melisandre Lebeau (6807)}} has posed:''' "You know, I was thinking the same thing. Surrounded by various undead and/or mythological creatures and/or supernatural creatures in essence with a bunch of my friends and very little else to run on? No, yeah, this is absolutely normal for like half of us, I'm sure." Melsi says, shaking her hand as she drags out a delicate talisman - a glass dagger with simple charms tied to it, that she uses to slice open the palms on both hands. "Hold still, please?" She requests of the tank, drawing a complex circle on any patch of bare skin she can reach, before she steps back, closes her eyes, and wills the charm to life, forming a nearly invisible red honeycomb around him. "Shielded. Use it well." With that, she dives into the poison, seemingly not to care about it as she goes to smack some skellies. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Between astute Party Leadership from Seifer, Magical Artillery from the mages, Top Notch Information from I4, and... well. The nonsense from the DPS squad, the rest of this trash is quite literally swept away, each of the monsters fading into wisps of dark aether as they pass away.     The critters gone, the barricades drop and let the gas evaporate off into the aethers and....     MORE STAIRS. Raha huffs and once again puts Inga on his shoulders, as the party hikes up and over the tall barricade and into a Very Obvious Combat Arena.     In the middle of this arena is a giant pile of bones and skin, the remains of a long dead dragon, the flesh long ago dessicated. A barrier erected around the octagonal room indicates that this is a cage of some sort, but for who or what? That answer is much more obvious the moment anyone dares to approach the center of the chamber, as alarms blare and more of that gas starts to spool up in the room. Get to the high ground, people!     Because the skeleton starts to reassemble itself, wobbling up and into a vague sort of thing that once upon a time was a dragon. Only now it is....                                 BONE DRAGON                                     Which then proceeds to breath toxic bullshit across everyone in the room.     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSSPqzuT_rI - A Fine Death 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Alright, well, that's a problem. % It's a problem Seifer can deal with, though. As the Bone Dragon rears back to breathe, Seifer surges forward, blade flashing through the air. He cleaves into the mist as it comes out, pushing it around himself - mostly. It's a pinpoint act, cutting the air, but it's an impressive one - the vacuum around the cut drags mist in and roils it about before casting it away. Only a little bit of it manages to reach him, a small bit of biting poison grinding away at his flesh.      Fortunately, Seifer's the type to really get up in front of it and piss it off, so he'll probably be able to point that stuff away from everybody.      Seifer's blade slashes for the dragon's eye as he goes up and over it, onto its back. He runs, grinding Hyperion against the back, until he slides down the tail. On the other side, he snaps his fingers, and a grey ghost with six arms, wrapped in a cloak and cowl, appears behind him.      Blue light streams out of the Bone Dragon. It pours into the grey ghost's hands. Those hands compact it into a small blue sphere, which Seifer snaps up into his own hand and twirls like a basketball.      "Let's see what I get from you, huh?"      The blue ball is smashed into Hyperion, where it disappates and breaks apart. 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' It's a dragon. Rather, it's the remains of a dragon, and it actually has Jeanne frowning when she sees it. "Hmph. How pathetic. /This/ is what remains of this grand civilization?" Jeanne does't break her stride as the gas starts seeping into the room, hopping once to get onto higher ground in order to get a better view of her target. "Let's put it out of its misery, then. The sooner we finish it, the sooner we can find whoever thought this would be enough to stop the Dragon Witch!" Growing increasingly agitated, Jeanne pushes right through that wave of vile gas as flames burn ominously around her banner. It doesn't even slow her down despite the discomfort and mild searing from within. She's a little too angry to let something like burning stop her, after all. Jeanne twirls her banner once before leaping into the air, a multitude of flaming spears appearing behind the Avenger as she dives down towards the Bone Dragon. All at once, everything starts catching on yet more fire. Her sword that she's aiming right at the dragon's head? On fire. Her banner that she's stabbing at the dragon's wings? Fire. The spears following her diving attack? So much fire. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Giant bone dragon. Sure, why not. Majima rolls his shoulders, as the dragon roars. He's already calculating, but...there are some serious problems here. It's kinda missing soft squishy bits, making it sub-par for him to stab it with his knife. It's only /one/ thing, making it pretty worthless to bother dancing at it, and he's not gonna punch a solid bone dragon, on account of that's stupid. Therefore, he does the only rational thing, drawing out a wooden bat and flaring with a bright yellow flame. <<Mad Dog>> Majima Goro Level 50 Samurai (Synced) And then, of course, it starts breathing toxic gas. He doesn't really have a brilliant response to that, other than to just stand there holding his breath. It is /remarkably/ more effective than he expects. And so, he gives Seifer a moment--he's not gonna be able to hit that dragon anywhere /useful/ if it's staring at him, The bat is drawn, and then he just starts wailing at its..back right knee? Yeah. That sounds like a good use of time. Back right knee. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' "Yes, entirely familiar," she agrees. "You must come to tea soon," she then informs Melisandre. Soon enough the small hoard is swept away by their combined effort and Inga is once again piggy-backed up the stairs and into the obvious Boss Room. It once seemed strange to her, how it was so predictable, but she's since gotten used to it. Since Melisandre renewed the blood ward on N'Raha, Inga turns her attention to the other combatants as she draws a line of blood down her forarm from her bone-handled seax. The mist of her blood rushes to Seifer, surrounding him in a shimmering red-gold ward. Of course, she also needs to ward herself. She has something of a resistance to toxic things, but the ward sure does help against the sudden noxious breath attack. She retaliates with a spray of her own blood, which just so happens to be acid now. It may or may not be the most effective on a bone-dragon, but she supposes she'll find out. 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' I4 attempts to get out of the way of the dragon cone, thankful that he did not get a nose full of that head-on.  Though choking a bit because he was only somewhat hit.  Shaking his head he turns towards the creature, thinking about how to best deal with it.  Right now?  Ok, let's just go for an offensive strike! "Huh, normally this is S6's job...well I guess I gotta rely upon myself today.." And then the defensive barrier from Tomoe gets a smile.  Taking a breath, he brandishes the short sword again, blade in hand as he dashes right towards the BONER DAGON.   Once he gets near it, he swings a few times, the blade even leaving his hand as he slashes with the weapon, before flipping back as the sword spins through the air back into his hand.  He releases a magical spell right towards the dragon. A blast of light-aspected magic blasts right underneath the Bone Dragon.   

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The voidkin are cut down, Tomoe keeps moving she keeps fighting along with the rest of the party. Seifer has been doing a damn good job of leading and doing the callouts for this battle so far. When the last of the attacking horde is dead she will pick up speed and be moving down the stairs. Tomoe keeping pace with Raha for the moment as she vaults over a barricade and soon finds the massive spanning room with the corpse of a long-dead dragon. Tomoe takes a moment to look about like she's expecting a trap as she nears the body there could be something going on. "Poison!" She calls out a warning as she makes for the high ground even as the barrier comes up and now she understands the place is a cage, for the dragon which even in death is now starting to form itself back up and attack them. She keeps tabs on I4 whom she'll one cast a quick protection spell on him. She will make sure to do what she can to protect him in this fray. The Bone Dragon is not going to wait for them. The gas comes it's pretty nasty. Thankfully Tomoe purges it before it can linger and do even more damage it's clear it wasn't too enjoyable for the towering woman. "I4, I'll try to cover you give us all the data and support you can about this and keep an eye out for any more traps." With that she's leaping for the boss as she does so he'll throw her shiel like a boomerang at the boss nad catch it before she close to melee and when she does she'll break into a powerful rapid flurry of sword strike and a shield bash upon the dragon as she tries to pull it back to one of the farther corners of the high ground to give her allies more room to manoeuvre if that can be managed. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The group pushes forward, into a combat arena. There is...a dragon corpse. A dragon corpse that animates and immediately roars at them, as gas starts to spool, as Team Skull moves to high ground, as the dragon turns towards them and... Toxic breath. Guzma isn't afraid of a little poison. He, Tupp, Rapp, and Zipp synchronize their movements, dashing out of the way towards high ground, an exhilarating rush surging through them. Zubat flies high above the poison, as Guzma rolls and shouts out to Ariados. "Dodge it, and use Fell Stinger!" Ariados leaps again, landing on a wall right above the toxic breath. It then leaps back at the dragon, taking its stinger and moving to ram it into the bone dragon. Zubat acts on its own accord, spraying another acid blast to colalaborate with the fell stinger and poison the bone dragon. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Looks like we've found our first dungeon miniboss! Or whatever it would be called in this scenerio. "Let not it's foul aura deter you! Onward for glory and discovery!" With the rallying cry Athela charges forward, hissing and coughing a little but heeding her own words in not letting the gaseous stench stall her. She takes a jump to get over the acid flow and land on the same platform as the Bone Dragon, to the side of the rotten wretched beast. As soon as she plants her feet she turns and kicks off again, this time straight into the air as she slashes up with her weapon against the dragon's side. Then brings it back down as she drops, hitting with all the force of the pounding flow of a waterfall's cascade. 

:'''{{#var:7160|Mauve Gauntlet (7160)}} has posed:''' Now that the trash mobs are done, it's time for the miniboss...probably. It's a Skelton dragon! A skeleton dragon that leaks poison. Mauve chokes on the gas, despite not having a mouth anywhere on her. Still, she hooks her way onto the dragon's back, punching it in the head a few times. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     There was no chance that they would be stymied simply by the minions present. The group is coordinated and deadly under the leadership of Seifer and the overwhelming firepower and dedicated support present. It thankfully keeps Lezard basically unharmed through the conflicts and that's what counts, right?     Still, there is the matter of greater opposition. The large room is a hint, the obviously undead dragon resting in the center a tell. The Necromancer certainly does not look surprised when the dragon reassembles itself. "A Zombie Dragon? Here of all places?" Lezard breaks into a laugh. The more things change, the more they remain the same. "How appropriate."     As one might expect, the place begins to fill up with poison, and Lezard quickly positions himself on the high ground so he is not unduly affected... Not that it stops the dragon from breathing on him. A glittering barrier rises, diverting much of the breath, but it still begins to enervate him, the signs of toxic buildup growing across his skin. He quickly works to halt the spread with a muttering of magic under his breath, and turns his attention to the creature itself. "Know your place, foul creature. BOW DOWN! FIRE STORM!"     Several explosions of intense fire begin bursting up beneath the dragon, crashing into it and attempting to simply blow the thing apart! 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Well whatever Seifer just did, the Boner Dagon didn't like that. The magical energy is withdrawn from the aether of the critter and it doesn't feel at all good, but that's probably par for the course for Seifer.     Jeanne's stabbing gets more of a reaction as well, the fire a good idea from the Lancer, and that sets bits of the beast alight, flesh crackling and crisping. Both of them, for their troubles, get bites of the Dragon's jaws.     Majima and Guzma get the right idea though, getting to the flanks and trying to swat and poke at it from there. More of the monster crumples away, showing off the gooey insides of the monster. Very nasty. Poison and goop and things that are imitating the vital bits of a living creature.     Mauve and Athela and Tomoe join in on the close quarters thwacking and chopping and kicking and assault, and now hunks of the monster are falling away, leaving detritus on the floor of the arena.     For their trouble? The creature rears back and tries to swipe claws at all of them, raking with ancient, gross, grody, rotten, awful gross and also gross claws.     Acid blood and magical fire and more fire and all sorts of artillery from the Ranged Squad, that very wisely are standing out of the direct reach of the critter's nasty Bitey Bits.     Unfortunately, they are standing in the areas that will be quickly filling up with Shitty Poison Gas. There sure is a lot of that in this wing. 

:'''{{#var:6807|Melisandre Lebeau (6807)}} has posed:''' Melisandre isn't too put out by toxic breath, although a particularly smoggy one sends her coughing, wheezing slightly as she staggers back away from the dragon. However, this puts her further into already there bad, and, well, for being as superbeeman as she is, she's still only got a resistance, not an immunity to this crap. The combination of incoming bad and already there bad sends the Concordian woman frantically backwards, until, quite inadvertently, she ends up backing right out of the octagonal room. Once she's done oughing hoarsely, she realizes that she's standing at the top of the stairs - staring directly at a purple barrier between her and the fight raging on inside. There's a long pause, and she touches the purple barrier. Mm, nope. Nothin'. "Oh." She'll be out here, then. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima is used to, at the very least, getting to knock his enemies around. this whole 'stand here and crack at a thing that only breaks apart like a solid wall' thing isn't sitting pretty with him. At the very least, the dragon seems to have eventually noticed him, kicking out with a bony leg. Of course, the poison gas being /literally everywhere/, that limits his dodging potential. And so, Majima goes with it, grabbing onto the leg and letting it fling him into the air. Sure, that hurts, and sure, he doesn't land on the dragon cleanly, which also hurts, but whatever. It's time to get back to work. The bat's out again, and he's sort of taking a cyclical motion to this. Slam the bat on a rib, flip over it, kick something, and then flip over to slam the bat back down the other way. He may not last up here long, but he'd best take advantage while he can of this unique damage-per-swing (DPsW for short) opportunity. 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' Who was standing in the bad?  Not I4.   In fact, he had run on top of a platform at the last second, having been paying attention.  Unlike some Broo-I mean Dragoons.  However, upon landing and avoiding the attack, both POD and I4 retaliated by using a ball of energy fired from the POD in an attempt to damage the Bone Dragon to get something else off. Flooding into the wound should he hit, an attempt to biohack the dragon is made.  Attempting to twist the aether in the dragon in such an away that it'll try and tear through the outer layers of the dragon, and attempt to hit all of the skeletons running for it.   He attempts to detonate them all. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' A claw swipes out. Ariados and Zubat go flying back, slamming into Guzma (ouch) and Rapp (it's a small bat) respectively. Guzma slides backwards, still fatigued, and is a bit slow to react. But then... He grabs another pokeball. "Ariados, build us web platforms." It makes a chittering noise, before climbing up a wall, while Guzma releases the ball. A weird yellow and dark blue beetle with massive mandibles shaped kind of like a cannon, flying, roiling with electricity lifts up. As Guzma tries to regain his energy, he shouts out to Vikavolt. Zap Cannon." The mandibles start charging up with electricity, surging, before it fires it off like a laser beam, straight at the dragon, trying to surge through the poison and the bones to damage the beast. Meanwhile, Ariados starts spraying strong web everywhere, building up platforms and paths to walk on, navigate over the dragon, jump down from, and avoid the poison and climb around. It should be useful as it builds to give everyone a bit of a navigational edge...though the dragon could just tear it up, which would be a problem. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's blood-wards prove enough to stand up against the poison gas thus far, thankfully, as getting to higher ground would prove difficult for her without assistance. Wounds are beginning to be taken, so Inga starts throwing out the heals, which come in the form of throwing her blood around, chanting ominously, and somehow making everyone feel better. Once that is handled, she thinks its time to take it up a notch. Drawing more blood from her wound she starts to form a wicked spear as the blood solidifies before her. She thrusts her knife toward the bone dragon, sending the blood-spear rocketing toward it. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer mutters something irritably as he jams the blue sphere into Hyperion's hilt, like he's loading the pistol with a clip. "Best you could do, huh, you purple polka prick,"      He's probably not talking to anybody here. Indeed it's kind of remarkable hearing him carry on a conversation with himself as he deflects poison breath and claws like he's barely paying attention. "Yeah?!" He says angrily as he twirls under a claw-swipe and cuts into the thing's arm, "Maybe you'd like to do this, and I'll do your job, huh?! How would you like that, you-"      He's cut-off as he leaps over a swinging arm and lands on it, standing there with precarious balance. "Fine, whatever! I'll get up on the dragon's back or whatever. We're having a talk after this."      "Yeah of course I can use it-"      "I'm complaining because it's useless! -no, I-"      Seifer groans and jams his blade into the dragon's shoulder, swinging off it as he pulls the trigger to land on the ground and do a *lot* of damage on the way out. "You know, you only ever get this way when I'm doin' stuff YOU wanna do, you noticed that? I'm doin' you a FAVOR here, least I can expect is some reciprocation."      A pause as he carves up the dragon's palm. "Yeah, that's right. You better apologize. You'll try harder next time alright." 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' Jeanne digs her weapons in as deeply as she can into the bone dragon, a sadistic grin slowly creeping across her face. When it snaps at her and Seifer with that decaying jaw, she leaps back to try evading the attack, but it still clips her leg and sends her into an almost uncontrolled flip. Luckily, the Avenger lands on her feet, and she holds that for a moment while brushing her shoulder off like she actually planned that. "It still has some strength, I guess. Still, it won't be enough!" Brandishing her banner and sword once more, she takes a moment to glance over at the Ariados' improvised web platforms. Seeing a potential opportunity, she puts the flames out from her banner and jumps from path to path, maneuvering to dive at the dragon's flank this time for some rapid slashes. "Come on. You're supposed to be a dragon, not a overgrown punching bag. Do you not have any pride?!" It seems as though she's try to force its attention in multiple directions and wear down its defenses further. 

:'''{{#var:7160|Mauve Gauntlet (7160)}} has posed:''' Mauve jumps off the dragon to make way for the others, landing on the platform in front of it with a thud. This turns out to be a /really/ bad idea, though. The dragon rakes it's gross ass claws across Mauve's torso, leaving a rusty looking gash leaking silver voxels. She screams, doubling over for a second. She turns the doubling over into a roll, though and gets under the dragon, punching upwards at...well its a skeleton, it doesn't have a belly. So where the belly would be. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' While not immune to poison Athela has dealt many times with such creatures as the swamps back home are filled with many of the poisonous bug, grass and water types. The noxious ichor of the bone dragon on its own is not going to be enough to make her faulter. People are attacking from different directions and with different methods, melee and ranged alike. That's good, keep it's attention from focusing on one direct assault. She takes a step back, swiping up with her weapon to intercept the putrid claws lashing out. It's partially successful, filt splattering off as claw collides with blade, but the impact is still forceful enough to make her skid backwards, perilously close to the edge of the platform and the acid bubbling around them. A precarious position indeed. Or it would be, if it wasn't for Guzma's quick thinking with the webbing, and thanks to Airidos she only stumbles upon the threads instead of tilting over. Some Pokemon tagteam work sounds like a good idea. "Sprite!" The Vaporeon perks up from the perimeter of the fight. "Aurora Beam!" Ear-fins flare, the temperature around the amphibious creature dropping briefly, and then a beam erupts from her mouth, giving a faint shimmering effect from light refracting through the air misting around it. The blast is cold in it's own right, as well as causing some frostburn when it connects with bone and decaying muscle. The flakes of ice crystals threaten to cake over joints or whatever is moving this thing to lessen it's ability to move and strike out. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Seifer seems to be doing a very good job as pissing off the dragon. The overall team is doing a lot of damage but it's not enough she makes sure that I4 is still up, She sees Inga as well in the mix so there's at least still one healer standing. She keeps up on the flank now, but then it comes the horrible claws. The sort of claws that if you got cut on you'd need to worry about the wound going ceptic. This is not a good situation even as she's cut up leaving glowing red jagged lines where the claws raked her body. "So you want some of this?!" She'll ready as sword art her blade glows and she'll launch several rapid strikes as her blade glows with a green aura. "SNAKEBITE!" Tomoe's aim with her attack is to try and sever or at least damage one of the Bone Dragon's forelimbs. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:''' The endemic poison in the area is proving to be a significant annoyance. Whatever this toxin is, it is quite potent, enough to cause Lezard's own homunculus body to begin to succumb to it. Already, some portions of his flesh are showing black streaks on the veins, the flesh darkening from unholy, painful deterioration. But even so, the Sorceror of Midgard pushes on, focusing through the pain.     Guzma provides an alternative. The web platforms above are quickly teleported to, Lezard taking shelter on one of them out of the range of the toxins... At least those not spewed by the dragon. "I have had enough of you!" Lezard proclaims. "ICICLE EDGE!"     The air stirs, a storm of ice and hail gathering as a series of sharp-edge icicles rain down on the Bone Dragon. "You will not stop us, beast!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     You have to put it to any party of adventurers. Given a challenge, they will find frankly irresponsible methods to handle the situation or Boss Encounter.     This... all of this is just too much for the Bone Dragon! Slashes and punches and kicks and fire and ice and more fire and hand stabbings and beams and Frankly Unethical Biohacking and-     Eventually the attacks just start going right through the creature, as it crumples to the ground, lifeless and unmoving once again, like it all never even happened, piece of the Bone Dragon scattered across the arena.     YOU DID IT! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lz8S0HQzrpU     Wait no, why's the boss music still going? That's because there's suddenly a.... well. A wave of that poison gas rolls up and out of the vents in the floors and walls, blanketing the entire area, and masking the sudden summoning of a horde of skeletons that rush the party and the Bone Dragon. The gas seeks to cut off the party, drive them into clumps, separate them from friends and assistance, even as the bits of the dragon start to slide towards the center of the room, magically drawn back together.     And every time one of those awful skeletons dies or one of them reaches the dragon? There's a horrible ripple of toxic energy that pulses through the room, that tears at the party, and puts the bone dragon back on its feet.     And with a ROAR of challenging noise, it once again lumbers to charge at Siefer, the Main Tank. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima is left atop a collapsing dragon, feeling..actually a little disappointed as he stands within the wreckage. "..Eh? That all? What's the point of that crap?" And then the oncoming horde of skeletons. He's not in a position to care about those. That's the Ranged's job. If it gets to him, he's already having a bad day, right? Right. So he'll just endure that, which.. Which turns out to be a tremendous problem, because the bone dragon just reformed. He's still standing there, and so.. Whoops. He's inside the horrible fleshy goop dragon. This would normally be disastrous, for a normal adventurer, but Majima is anything but normal. He lacks even the slightest hint of normalcy. For you see, now that he's in the goopy, vitals bit of the dragon, it's no longer time for the bat. No. Now is time for the tanto, the blade coming out and stabbing in all sorts of would-be organs, in an internal, unstoppable maelstrom. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      This, also, is fine.      The skeleton explosions, the roaring poison, the dragon charging at him? This is all fine. This is right where Seifer Almasy is at his best. This is the middle of the chaos, the eye of the storm, the place where he can show his stuff and show it loud. He doesn't shy away from the dragon. He charges it back, his own loud, challenging shout filling the arena. Seifer isn't a man who shies away from things like this - the skeleton explosions and their dark magic eating away at him just makes him angrier. The skeleton eruptions just make him more determined. The dragon? The dragon is a big stupid target right in front of him. Seifer *excels* at destroying big stupid targets. He's had a lot of practice on Zell.      That's mostly a joke.      The slashing claws come in, and Seifer turns them not just aside but back on the dragon. The fangs come down, and the gunblade, impossibly, turns them around. Somehow, the dragon winds up biting itself; somehow, the dragon winds up clawing itself. Each strike rebounds, each attack returns. Each time the dragon gets close, Seifer somehow reverses it, bringing the beast's biology to bear as a weapon against the monster itself.      He's also still yelling at the air.      "*SHUT UP*, jeez! I don't care if it's weak in the eye, I got my rhythm, I'm not gonna break it! You just watch! You just see what I got comin', huh?"      Seifer, briefly, shouts at the rest of the party, "Pin it down! Time to finish this off!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's protective ward game is strong tonight. The ripples of toxic energy slam into her wards, but they do not penetrate them. Her aura glows shimmering gold, driving back the miasma. Inga slams the end of her staff to the hard floor, a crack resounding as lightning starts to arc, one bolt after another lights up the poison gas like lasers through smoke at a rock concert, zapping the skeletons that try to rush them. 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The evil is defeated. Guzma's pumping his fist in the air, when... Poison roils from the walls, catching in his lungs and causing him to cough up small bits of blood. "Crud..." But as the dragon gets back up to attack, Seifer inspires. Guzma grins, despite the blood in his mouth, as Ariados moves back down. "Ariados, Spider Web." Ariados starts spraying its web again, as hard as it can, to hit the bone dragon. The goal is not directly to damage, though it'll hurt. The goal is to trap the Bone Dragon long enough for the others to do as much damage as possible. Webbing wraps around arms, legs, mouth, and chestbones, trying to keep it pinned to the ground with sheer tensile strength. "Let's do this, boys! CONCORD REPRESENT!" Team Skull hollers, Zubat having been returned to its ball, as has Vikavolt. 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' That didn't quite work as well as that dive. It's a little disappointing, certainly, but it's not a particularly large problem as the dragon goes down anyway. Jeanne lets out a quiet sigh, not even flinching much when the skeletons rise to replace their fallen... Whatever the dragon was to them. A pet? A comrade? A beast of convenience? Jeanne scoffs. It not like she cares or anything. There's something off about all those skeletons, though, and it's not clear until they start clearing out the skeletons that something starts making sense: The skeletons are powering the dragon up! Maybe. Or... Whatever. "... This doesn't make any sense at all. Whatk ind of idiots were these Allagans?!" Not understanding what's going on between the skeletons and the dragons only seems to enrage Jeanne further, and she gets to work bashing and slashing apart the waves of bonemen. Her banner alights, but she's keeping her movements somewhat controlled as she bides her time to strike at the dragon once more. Someone needs to keep the field clear for finishing off the dragon once and for all! 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' And the monster is down.... No wait, it isn't! And a swarm of skeletons invades the fight, trying to buy the creature time to reconstitute itself. Instinctively Athela turns around and swings, smashing the flat-side of her sword-glaive into one of the skeletons. Which proves to be a miscalculation and it explodes, blasting her with the unnatural retchedness. "Gaah!" she coughs, biting back a gag reflex. "Almost as hideous as a Muk!" No amount of experience with toxic creatures prepared her for that. As disguisted as the knight is she forces herself to focus back on the reformed monster. Sprite is already scampering across the spider-webs to get back to her side to deal with it shortly, so she keeps her attention on the monster. She focuses her aquamancy through herself and into her weapon, swirls of the elemental energy forming around the blade. It builds to a point that when she digs her feet in and thrusts forward, it doesn't matter that she doesn't physically strike the monster, as a huge churning torret of water erupts from the weapon, pressurized stream rocketing towards the bone dragon like a huge laser cannon. Of water. 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' The wave of toxic energy tears through I4 and nearly sends him face-first on the ground.  He releases a sound of pain, as his HUD goes fuzzy from the shock of the attack.  Fortunately, it quickly corrects itself.  Double fortunately that Tomoe was there to support and protect him.  Back onto his feet, his eyes narrow as he looks for weakness.   He does not attempt to hack the dragon this time, instead, he sends a beam of energy out towards the mechanical systems of the area, specifically the poison control.  He attempts to back stuff some of the pipes, in an attempt to make it all come out near the dragon. "POD, Vacuum shot directly on the Dragon," he says, and with a beep of acknowledgment, a vortex attempts to draw the gas in...and attempts to full the dragon with it.  Literally, attempt to infuse the dragon's ether with direct poison.   

:'''{{#var:7160|Mauve Gauntlet (7160)}} has posed:''' The dragon goes down! Mauve hops out from under the dragon, joining the others on the web platforms and dusting her hands off. And then no, It wasn't down because then a horde of person skeletons get it back up again, exploding into EVEN MORE POISON. "Ugh. Unfair." She mumbles. Someone wanted a lockdown on the dragon? Well that she could handle. She gets down on one of the stone platforms- she'd need something more sturdy than web for this. Hooks shoot out from Mauve's hips, piercing the ground beneath her. She then fires both hands at the dragon's legs, gripping them and trying to literally pull it off its feet! 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     The dragon collapses, and Lezard allows himself to smirk as the ice cleaves the dragon apart.     But he knows better. He's absolutely not going to believe it is down for the count because /his do the same thing/. Now the trick with the skeletons? That's new. He can appreciate that. There's a certain artistry to it, if you happen to be a necromancer with sadistic tendencies. But the appreciation only goes so far as the necrotic energy crashes into Lezard. He's not immune to it. In fact, he's not immune to most things, really. You'd think he would invest in defenses, but no. There just too much to defend against, honestly. The energy crashes into him, sapping his life energy and causing him to grunt in pain, but he is not driven down yet, even as black blood begins to run down his arms from wounds that open across his body from his enervated flesh.     "I will not accept defeat at the hands of a lesser creature!" He yells, energy roaring around him as he continues to draw it in, building up to a cataclysmic force. "LIGHTNING BOLT!"     As one might expect, blasts of lightning crash down upon the reconstituted dragon, attempting to sizzle and blow it apart once more! 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The Bone Dragon drops, Tomoe does a fist pump in celebration, well with that over they should be getting out of here. Wait what the heck? There's a horde of other undead coming for the entire party. Worse the amount of poison gas in the arena gets even more concentrated as more of it finds it's way into the arena. Worse whenever a skeleton is cut down there's a blast toxic energy across the entire party. Then she doesn't feel very good, heck she turns a bit green and a poisoned status appears on her HUD. She mutters a spell of some sort purging the toxin before it can do further harm. Seeing I4's action even unaware of his entire plan she's going to pile in on the dragon which has pulled itself together. As it lunges for Seifer Tomoe will leap at it, raising her blade and bring it down trying to catch the thing's neck and do as much damage as she can to such a key part of the dragon. Hopefully even in the worst case it will distract the dragon from both Seifer and I4's actions. "JUST STAY DOWN DAMN IT!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Honestly, all of this is very frustrating for Mr. Boner Dagon. If Frustrating is a concept an animated skeleton could have, if its programming by the Allagans afforded for it, and if it had any concept of self preservation. It does not, in fact, have any of those.     What it does have, though, is a Majima inside of it, and it can't really... do anything about that. It'll keep getting beat on in there and like... something jabs weakly at Majima, while the goop that makes up its 'body' does its thing.     Mauve and I4 and Guzma all have very good ideas though. The dragon realyl doesn't have... much going for it, and even shaking it off its base is enough to let the other heavy hitters do their thing, Inga and Tomoe and Lezard getting int their licks on the dragon. More bits of it start falling off again, and it just starts to crumple to the floor. Is it about to fall apart again?     The toxic attacks start up again, lingering skelemans starting to wobble up from the floor again to attack the party, toxic claws from the dragon lashing out at the DPS that remain in close 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Jeanne and Seifer though... really ought to pay more attention to what they're doing. Jeanne has an excuse, she can't help herself while she's battle raging. But Seifer's internal conversation misses something that he could have prevented. The Dragon Rears up, and... rather than the awful toxic color that it's been bubbling for a while, something awkwardly white starts to billow up and out of the dragon. It ROARS....     And a massive, awful, arcing white beam of energy flashes out across the arena, and smites the pair for their foolish ways for challenging the dragon head on. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' It is hard, really, to avoid. Majima is inside a giant dragon, it's got 'goop', and he's going to get nailed by the weird toxic crap. That's fine. What he's got is a remaining beautiful, prime opportunity to do something tremendous, and also incredibly stupid. He draws out his firecrackers. Yes, his--his bundles of firecrackers. He keeps these around for lighting and shoving in the mouths of people who oppose him, and while he's in no position to hit the dragon's mouth, he can generally hit important squishy bits of the dragon. He lights it with a spark off his knife and the bone, and jams it into ..somewhere goopy on the dragon. Then he lights another bundle. And a third. All in all, five bundles of firecrackers are set to go off inside the body of the bone dragon, and hopefully that will buy everyone else some time to finish the job. It isn't pleasant in here! 

:'''{{#var:7148|Guzma (7148)}} has posed:''' The bone dragon continues to fight. Even as he's wrapped up in web, he swings out more toxic claws, and barely grazes Ariados, knocking it back into Guzma and winding him again. "Agh!" It's time to finish this. So, Guzma has Ariados do so. "Climb on the webs. Then, finish it!" Ariados leaps up the webs, running along those still surviving, and energizes its two front-most legs. It leaps into the air with a superhuman burst, briefly, before landing those claws in an X shape, and moving to just rip through the Bone Dragon and make it difficult to be precise or hit hard in the process. "Let's do this Guzma style, yo!" 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' Battle rage is one of the few things that keeps Jeanne going. It keeps her motivated. It gives her a sense of purpose. And in this battle against a dragon that shouldn't even be moving, against a mastermind that might not even know of what's happening... If they're watching, the Avenger wants to make sure they know what they're dealing with. When that bone dragon starts blasting that obliterating beam, Jeanne barely attempts to avoid it. Instead, she starts shouting as mana gathers in front of her, churning in a mass of flames of her own to challenge the dragon's directly. The flames and energy beam clash, and the beam washes over the Dragon Witch entirely. Armor cracks and burns, fabric frays and turns to dust, and even her pale white skin is burnt and bleeding all over at Jeanne's questionable gambit. Somehow, though, the Servant continues smiling madly. "... Is that all you have? Master of the tower, this is what it means to truly wield the power of dragons!" And then Jeanne gets to work. She's not going to let herself get shown up by everyone else, after all! The darkness in the air intensifies around the Avenger as the flames surrounding her and her evil blade burn even brighter, massive amounts of mana being expended even to a casual observer. "This... Is the howl of a soul filled with hatred!" She swings her sword in front of her, pointing it towards the bone dragon while the ground trembles beneath her. "La Grondement Du Haine!" The flames surrounding Jeanne expand rapidly, surging towards the undead beast in a growing wave. As the flames reach the dragon, geysers of flame erupt from beneath it all at once along with numerous spears aiming to impale the monster from below. The spears keep rising, forcing themselves out from the ground below and grow in number until it all culminates in an explosion centered on the bone dragon! 

:'''{{#var:7132|I4 (7132)}} has posed:''' The attack smacks the Android back, rolling along the ground.  Skidding to a stop, he looks up.  Ok, it's weak, time to put the finishing blows on it.  The blade comes out again. "POD, trajectory.  Give me a path in." -Path selected.- Suddenly the Android dives in, dashing halfway across the arena as his magic enhanced blade slashes, thrusts, and dances around the dragon in a circle of steel.  He flips back, aiming to disengage from the dragon and lands.  Another blast of light aether explodes under the dragon. Then it is followed up with an explosion of fire energy, attempting to rupture inside of the bone dragon and destroy it.   

:'''{{#var:525|Inga Freyjasdottir (525)}} has posed:''' Nothing left to do but make sure no one falls down except the enemies. And right now, even Lezard is an ally. She sees that he is hurting, and without too much hesitation slings a little healing blood-magic his way before healing Seifer and Mauve as well. "Stay in this! It isn't over yet!" she calls. Then, her attention is back on skeletons, as one barrels into her and basically flails at her painfully. She blasts with another bolt of lightning to get some breathing room, then focuses in on the dragon. Now, the air grows suddenly uncomfortably warm, the runes on her staff glowing flame-red. She gathers her anima, drawing deep on her connection to Gaia and all she's learned about the cleansing power of fire. She whispers one, steaming word, and lets an explosion of fire loose on the Bone Dragon. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore tries to keep her distance from the dragon and on the defense while dealing with that nastiness from before. She stomps a foot to the ground and a surge of water rises up in front of her only to freeze and form a barrier. At least that was the idea. Bone Dragon lashes out in it's rage before she can completely solidfy her defense, the claws smashing through while it is more slush than ice yet, sending the remains splattering about the limb slams into Athela as well. It's a hefty blow knocking her backwards and hard to the ground. Ick. This is not a good floor to get up close and personal with. The residue of the battle is bad enough, don't even WANT to know what OTHER filth has built up on it over the years. With a disgusted groan Athela heaves herself back off the floor and resteels her composure. Sprite starts to do something, but she shakes her head. She can heal later "Don't worry about that for now.... Give me a Helping Hand!" With a burble of agreement the Vaporeon hops about a few times, stomping her paws and slapping her fluked tail to the ground ethusiastically, rallying her partner's fighting spirit once more. With renewed determination surging through her Athela grips her weapon tight and the blade sheens so strongly there's an audible twang to the shimmer. Her brow narrows, teeth grit, muscles tense. Then release, hurtling herself towards the Bone Dragon once more abrim with supernatural might. "No matter how many times ye rise again, we shall strike ye down til standing no more!" The stride ends in a mighty leap, twisting mid-air to put even more momentum into her swing and bring all her boosted might crashing down on the monster behind the force the divine glaive. "THE WAVE OF JUSTICE SMITE YE DOWN!" 

:'''{{#var:7160|Mauve Gauntlet (7160)}} has posed:''' Mauve gets scratched again, leaking more voxels and looking more rusted. She looks up into the corner of her vision, where a low health gauge, a full super meter and a rusted sign with her name on it hung. Ok. She could do this. "A-alright you!" Mauve shouts, summoning up some more bravado. "You asked for it!" More hooks fire out, anchoring her to the ground further. Mauve then aims a fist at the dragon as a quartet of small rockets shoot out from its sides, launching the fist straight at the dragon's head. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The Dragon has yet to go down form the fury of the entire party. Which says something about how dangerous it is. It can endure a lot. Worse there's more of the skeletons coming in she knows how this is going to go. They are going to make for another go after them and do that horrible poison effect again. The Dragon has to be taken down and made to be taken down. Jeanne and Seifer endure the attacks levelled against them. Then comes the counter-attack with all the power and fury she expects from two of the more dangerous people in the multiverse. Normally she's get in there with the melee but given all furious magical and ranged attacks being thrown in there she'll back off just a bit. Then she will end up chanting again. It's Norse if one is paying attention and something to do with lighting too. She's chanting up a fairly bit spell this keeps going on for a moment before she finally lowers her sword arm and the spell come a massive lighting blot falls from the heavens right for the Bone Dragon and Tomoe shouts. 5R "TAHTS ENOUGH OF YOU BACK TO YOUR GRAVE!" 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     Even on the spider webs, F.O.E! Lezard cannot escape the encroaching attacks of the Platinals as they clamber up and strike at him with their toxic phalanges. Lezard's body conitnues to degrade, the brutal wounds not helping matters as he cries out, staggering for a moment as he goes dizzy from the toxin buildup.     But enough of that. Lezard has reached the limits of his patience with this entire situation, and he has a solution for it. With a sudden explosion of Force, Lezard sends the skeletons flying away as he draws out a book without title from a warp in space, the pages flipping before him as he funnels the energies through it. The power splays outwards, a magical circle growing larger and larger around him, increasing in complexity.     "As the harmoniums of Asgard sound,"         "Their very melodies stir the ancient lightnings to wake!"     The air splits, a black hole yawning open as a seething entity of blue-white energy begins spilling out of it. A gaping skull yawns wide, a draconic maw glistening with crackling sparks of energy... And it launches forward, trailing a long, deadly body of thunderbolts that surge and blast the Bone Dragon as the thing surges downwards, crashing straight through it!                                "DRAGON BOLT!"                               

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Toxic claws hit hard.      Seifer doesn't wear armor. Seifer doesn't wear any kind of armor. He doesn't use a shield. He doesn't really use any form of self-defense other than his tremendous sword skills. Frequently, that's enough - he's stupendously good at blocking and parrying things he has no right to do. But he can't do it to everything at once.      Oh, he tries, alright. His blade seems to be in multiple places at once as he parries claws both toxic and normal, turns aside fangs, and pushes away toxins. But there's just too much, even for him, and in short order he's overwhelmed. Claws rake into his back. Poison gets firmly into his system.      Then comes the beam. The colossal, blazing beam of light. The beam that hits him dead-on - or, would've. It's damn close. It's almost a dead shot, thanks to the claws. But at the last minute the blade twists around, pointing directly into the beam to part it as best he can.      It's not great. Not now. Maybe if he was at full capacity, but not like this, not with poison in his blood. If he had full strength he could probably knock it aside, or split up through it, or some other flashy, nonsensical trick. Maybe he could even bounce it back.      Right now, he's sliding. Sliding backwards, sliding backwards against the ground. All it's going to take is one slip, one trip, and he's taking that full thing dead, clean in the face, and then he is himself probably dead.      No.      No, he won't let that happen.      "Tch."      His teeth are clenched tight from pain. He presses his legs down, hard, into the ground. "You think," he struggles to say as he goes further down, "I'm gonna..."      "Lose..."      "To some no-name nobody like you?"      The beam ends. The poison in his blood and his lungs, he can deal with later. Right now?      Right now Seifer Almasy is Really Really Mad.      That blue orb appears in his hand. He slaps it against the hilt of the gunblade again. This time, rather than simply disappearing, the gunblade cocks itself. Bones creep along the back of it, up Seifer's arm like a gauntlet.      "Aight. I'm done lettin' you push me around."      "Let's see what this can do."                         LIMIT BREAK - CRISIS LEVEL 3                                                     REANIMATED REGIMENT                                  From all around Seifer, skeletons start rising. They don't look like the skeletons bombing the dragon - no, they look like soldiers, dressed in body armor and breaking uniforms, carrying long rifles and pistols. More and more start showing up around Seifer, lining up in identical rows.      Like a cavalry officer, Seifer raises his blade.      And like a cavalry officer, the moment it falls, the skeletons open up. Most of them fire bullets. Some of them fire bolts of flame. Some of them fire bone-shard corpse bits that stick into flesh and dig in and explode. Some of them fire hands that latch on and squeeze until they burst the flesh and themselves. They empty all of their ammo.      Seifer raises Hyperion again.      "Fix bayonets."      As one, there is a storm of clicking noises. The skeletons affix old-style bayonets to their rifles. Their eyes flicker with spectral blue flame as they lock the weapons in.      The blade falls. "Charge."      The skeletons roar forward, a wail of howling undead, a wall of spike and bone. They surge forward with no regard for their own lives, driving their weapons as deep in as they can go, as deep as they can get, and then deeper still. The skeletons themselves collapse; the bayonets break off; but they *dig*, and *dig*, and *dig*, and push, and push, and keep on pushing, until they have nothing left.      The bone-gauntlet on Seifer's arm crumbles to dust.      "OK," he says to the air, "You win. That was cool." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Explosions from the inside. Explosions from the outside. Bugs with murder claws. Ver-fires from a Ver-Robot. Someone who apparently ALSO has a knock off Akh Morn. Viking Murder Lightning. Someone's fucking Noble Phantasm. Viking Explosions. ROBOT KILLER PUNCHES. Someone who's suddenly got the Boner Dagon gimmick only way cooler and also with Fake SOLDIERS or something.     None of these are standard Limit Breaks. None of these are things that ought to be happening to a Bone Dragon, a regular Dragon, or any respectable midboss. But it's happening anyways.     The Dragon attempts to try that Play Dead gimmick it tried before, but that only gets it as far as Majima's fire crackers. Every other horrible befoulment of the creature's body drives the chances of that gimmick working farther and farther away, until the only thing that works is a feeble little cough of gas and awful odors and then... there is no more Bone Dragon.     There's also no fanfare this time. Just a quiet lessening of the oppressive nature of the Labyrinth, and the crackling noise of... Nero's voice. "Oh! Good, you got rid of it. The airheads and I have figured out how to activate the tower's internal teleportation systems!" The noise booms out over... whatever the Allagans built into here to broadcast voice and whatever.     In the middle of the arena, a swirling area of energy billows up from the ground, which will take people back to the entrance of the ruins. 

:'''{{#var:7055|Majima Goro (7055)}} has posed:''' Majima's okay. In case you were wondering. He's just kind of sitting where the dragon -was-. He's covered in things he's not fond of. And so, he just...sits there, pulling out a bottle of beer. There's a crack. He just...sits there, beer tilted upwards, chugging it. 

:'''{{#var:598|Lezard Valeth (598)}} has posed:'''     The offensive enemy has been utterly destroyed. Lezard nods to himself, turning his energies towards undoing the damage to his physical form. Slowly, the horrific, near-septic wounds begin to close and clear. When he is satisfied for the moment, he steps down from the webs andover to the energy. "At least we have a more efficient mode of travel now. This should allow us to reach the more critical areas more quickly."     He looks over the group, and then simply turns and takes his leave, stepping into the teleporter with a swirl of his cloak.     He will return... later. 

:'''{{#var:6802|Jeanne Alter (6802)}} has posed:''' Jeanne's panting heavily as the battle comes to an end, although she forces herself to stop doing that and stand up straight once Nero's voice comes back on. She still has to look like she's done this all effortlessly, after all, even though her armor's a bit of a mess at the moment. "Of course we did. What did you take us for, amateurs?" She snaps at the wherever Nero's voice is coming out of, scoffing after a moment and looking towards the rest of her... Companions of the day. "It could have gone worse." That's the closest thing anyone's going to get to a compliment from her. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe sees the dragon go down and stay down. Soon everything in the room is not trying to kill everyone. She'll move to sheath her sword and put her shield back into her inventory and she looks around to make sure everyone's still breathing. With that confirmed she'll take Inga up on her offer of healing she will check around for any interesting loot though she doesn't intend to run off with anything she'll check with Seifer. The Salamander takes a moment to take a deep breath that could have gone a lot worse, after all. 
}}

6297/Market Day in Ul'dah

2019-01-24T22:21:35Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/01/10 |Location=Ul'Dah, Eorzea |Synopsis=Katt, Staren, Inga and Raha take some time to peruse the markets of Ul'dah, and chit chat about life..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/01/10
|Location=Ul'Dah, Eorzea
|Synopsis=Katt, Staren, Inga and Raha take some time to peruse the markets of Ul'dah, and chit chat about life and stuff.
|Cast of Characters=819, 525, 6860, 42
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Let it never be said that Raha of the Aldgoats couldn't make things work out, even in less than optimal conditions. Like the fact that his primary guest was going to get horribly sunburnt, so they started later so that the shade would be on the market.     The fact that the market wouldn't be literally packed to the gills with people was another good thing.     That said, the place IS still packed. Just not 'too many people to move'. All sorts of people, hyurs, elezen, lala, roes and lots and lots of miqo'te ladies are here today. All sorts of wares on on display, from clothes to weapons to potions lotions and other sundry items. Street food galore, of all sorts. Some furtive back alley deals, of course, commissioned under the close eye of the Brass Blades, of course.     If it's worth selling, it's probably here today at the Emerald Exchange.     Raha keeps to the side of Inga, his slightly dusty old Maelstrom tunic helping keep some of the most obnoxious people at bay. It's good wearing the other side's colors sometimes. "You okay?" A glance to Inga, and a look down to some of the bags he's already carrying. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga had fretted about the heat and what she would wear in Ul'dah. Hearing they could go a bit later in the day was something of a relief, but it's still hot. It's a kind of heat she's only experienced a few times in her life, even after finding the multiverse. But she was warned, and took the advice of others on how to keep cool. It had taken a bit of shopping, but she seems to be relatively comfortable in a long pink skirt of gauzy material and a dark grey tank top. Her hair is in two pigtail braids, a pretty pink scarf wrapped around her head to help keep her head cool in the sun. She displays a bit of the jewelry she owns, a silver chain with a moonstone pendant and matching earrings. She couldn't resist a stack of silver bangles she saw in the market, either. She's not very comfortable in crowds, always afraid of being knocked over. So while she has her walking stick in one hand, the other frequently reaches for Raha's arm if she feels unsteady. She's taking in the sights, quiet and thoughtful mostly. "Hmmm? Ja, fine. Just...admiring it all. Its a beautiful city in an unexpected way," she says, drifting toward a stall selling fabric--of which she has already purchased quite a bit of. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' When Katt needs supplies, she knows to go to a big market. And this is a pretty damn big market, so perhaps it's not really a surprise that she found her way here, eventually. And she fits in! Well, sort of. Almost. There are certainly some other feline people around (she is, in fact, in discussion with a miqo'te right now), but Katt's tiger stripes and furred legs stand out enough that she's gotten the occasional look in her direction. "So it's a cactus except you eat it?" Katt is looking at a vendor selling roasted nopales with mild confusion. "I didn't know you could eat cactuses...is. Cact...more than one cactus. I think maybe I'll pass. Don't you have any roasted meat to go with the roasted cactus?" There's certainly some for sale around, but not from this particular vendor. Katt turns away with a shrug, tail lashing once as she shoulders her staff. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a perk from the vendor of the stall, a stout looking Lalafell lady. She looks up to Inga and Raha, her eyes widening a bit to see a male Miqo'te out and about, but she holds out her stubby arms. "Welcome to the Jade Crescent, where I have the finest collection of imported Doman silks and magiweaves. Just the sort of thing for very fancy people like yourselves!"     A big, obvious wink to Raha. It's no close secret to who the Warriors of Light are, and it's not like he was trying to hide himself all that much.     She crosses her arms. "I'm Susuto! Are you looking for anything in particular?"     Katt is getting some manner of attention as she goes. The lizardman she just bought the roasted fruit from glances a bit at her fuzzy legs and strange markings. Not a Miqo'te girl. Offworlder. She'll be hearing... more than a few whisperings about 'offworlder' as she passes stalls and stands. If it's meat she's looking for, though, there's a smell of fish not far from the stall that Raha and Inga are at. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga smiles to the lalafel, continuously delighted that she's not the shortest person around. "Good day. I am simply admiring your silks--what do you have in blue?" she asks, and waits patiently for the lalafel to select a few for her perusal. It has not escaped her attention that she hasn't seen another male miqo'te (that she knows of, anyway!) and she's been meaning to ask Raha about that, but not sure exactly how to ask such a strange question. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Crowds.     Staren's walked through crowded streets in Lazlo of course, but... He's less familiar with this place. He keeps stopping to look at things and nearly getting bumped into.     He fits in, at least! Cat ears don't look at all out of place for once, and he did actually dress in clothing that looks appropriate-ish to Eorzea, if not hot climates (that doesn't matter, he has magic for that): A white scholar's robe instead of the labcoat, a tunic and simpler shorts in place of the T-shirt and cargo shorts, and leather-looking boots instead of sneakers.     Eventually tired of being in the way, he finds an alley in which to discreetly grapple up to the rooftops and then transform. Who's going to look twice at a black cat on a roof? Even if it is wearing a bandana around its neck...     Eventually, he sees a familiar pair of faces: N'Raha and Inga. Something's been happening with Inga lately, something she won't talk about.     But there's money 'left for her' in Chicago, she needs help moving things, and she's suddenly come into posession of a cat. The four-legged kind.     Something has happened to Harry.     But if she doesn't want to talk about it, he won't pester her. Still, good to check in on how she's doing.     The cat hops off a nearby roof, and transforms midair, cait sith wings briefly appearing to arrest Staren's fall just above the ground. "Hey." He greets her with a smile. "How is it going?" To the vendor, he asks, "Magi-weave? Does that have some magical properties?" 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt knows perfectly well she's an offworlder and being called one doesn't bother her... unless it gets to more than just mutterings, but she's been perfectly willing to behave herself and just enjoy the market, so the Ul'dahn market shouldn't have much of a reason to complain, she figures. She is armed, though. She has a sturdy-looking staff propped over one shoulder with what looks like a decorative cat's-paw end. Katt has been very careful not to accidentally smack anyone when she turns around - she's used to crowds. She starts to worm her way through the crowd toward the fish. Katt takes a bite out of the roasted nopales as she goes and apparently can't decide if she likes it or not, by the expression on her face and the sudden flattening of her ears. She slows as she passes the stand with the silks, mostly to look at the cloth - - just as a cat turns into a person right in front of her. "Ah, what!" she yelps, whipping out her staff and holding it at her side. "Don't DO that!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Susuto perks up. "Oh! Yes yes, hold on." She shuffles back around a curtain, and then comes back out carrying a roll of fabric that's nearly as big as she is. Well. She's shuffling it out. "I've got just the thing for a handsome young lady." She flops it over on the counter, and beams. It's some sort of not-silk. Inga can spot proper silks, this is something similar but not quite. No designs, and it's a very plain pale, almost robin's egg blue. "This what you're looking for? Something Darker?"     Though, the sudden appearance of Staren gets at least Raha to startle a bit. "H-Hoooy. Shortstack, careful there." He ruffles Staren between the ears, really more of a noogie.     Susuto perks, though, looking at the suddenly appearing catboy. "Ah! Hello! Some of them, yes. There's specially designed fabrics made for the Thaumaturge's Guild here in Ul'dah. Very expensive, and we only ever get scraps and hand me downs. It's very difficult to cobble together." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "Oh, hello Staren," she says while looking toward the 'silk' the lalafel woman brings back. She does not seem at all surprised by his sudden arrival or transformation--though did he always have little wings like that? Curious. She eventually looks up and over toward him, then to the woman he'd startled. Another person with cat features. This is starting to be a little strange. Was she carrying catnip? She presses her lips together at the outfit Katt is wearing. It isn't the first scantily clad cat-girl she's seen today, but is probably the first without pants of any kind. She feels exposed in a tank top! It's clear from the color of her skin that it doesn't see the sun very often. Inga brings her attention back to Susuto. The look in her eye is not a pleasant one as she touches the silk. "Do not assume that because I am an offworlder that I do not know good silk--this is not silk. If you insist upon insulting me I will bring my coin elsewhere," she informs her, and begins to turn and walk away. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Susuto startles a bit at Inga, and then yelps. "No no no, this is... Ma'am! It's just not silkworm silk! It's diremite silk!" She's panicking a little bit, her arms waving and her legs stamping. She looks desperately at Raha, who just shrugs a bit. "I'm not the weaver, she is." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren's ears perk at Katt's sudden exclamation and he blinks at her. "Do what?" Which distracts him long enough for Raha to go for the headpat.     CATS CAN PET OTHER CATS? A NEW WORLD IS OPENED TO wait wrong story.     It's more of a noogie even. Staren looks surprised and reflexively pushes Raha's hand away. He gives the other catman sort of a '...what? Just... what?' squinty look, and slowly lowers his arm if N'Raha does.     Then he turns to Sasuto. "Hmm. I'm interested in magical things, but I'm not sure I have the right skills to put magic /fabric/ to proper use, anyway." And then Inga indicates that this vendor is trying to scam them -- Staren adopts a slightly more wary posture in response.     A shady street vendor on a crowded street /probably/ isn't going to pull a gun on them, sure, but nearly 13 years in the multiverse can make one a little paranoid. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt lowers her staff without hitting anyone with it, swapping it to her left hand and resting her weight on it harmlessly. She has the nopales held in her teeth so she has her hands free for the staff, and so when she tries to speak again it comes out a little muffled. She chews and bites, the nopales slowly vanishing into her mouth as she gnaws through it. A few moments later, she swallows. "Well then SOME people shouldn't jump out of nowhere and fly down," Katt says, given Staren another once-over. He looks sort of like a local to her - more than she does anyhow. "How'd you do that, anyway? Do all of the w - the miqo'te - turn into flying cats here?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga frowns softly, touching the diremite silk. "Hmm. I see. Do you have silkworm silk? Something with a bit more decoration?" she asks. She doesn't want to insult the merchant too much--just play the game that is haggling in a market town. She wants this lady to know who she is dealing with. She'll let the lalafel look again at her wares and turns toward the others, smiling slightly toward Staren, shaking her head a little. No need to get his hackles up. It's just shopping. "What brings you to Ul'dah Staren?" she asks. She looks to Katt again, and nods a greeting at least since it doesn't seem she'll try to wack Staren with her staff anymore. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren relaxes a bit at Inga's silent reassurance, and turns back to Katt, stepping a bit to one side so he can keep all of them in view. With a smile, he replies, "I'm not a mi`qote, I'm... complicated." He holds up a finger and tilts it to one side, "I'm a natural shapeshifter," and then the other way, "And the wings are--" there's the pause, and the facial expression, of the scientist, engineer, or wizard who is about to run into an extremely technical concept and and is fundamentally uncomfortable saying something that is factually incorrect even if it's good enough for most people, but then realizing he kind of has to because noone wants to listen to a long, arcane explanation, "--magic."     Then he turns his head to Inga, looking slightly nervous. "I, uh... heard you were going to Ul'dah, and with everything you've been talking about, I just... wanted to see how you were doing. I hope that's okay." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Susuto takes a breath and looks up at Raha and then over at Inga... and she hauls the slightly inferior silk cloth back into the back and vanishes for a few minutes. There's rummaging noises and a 'wark' or two back there. Must be going through a cart.     Raha, for his part, is just content to stand there and carry stuff, and listen. He's good at listening. It's a nice change from trying to punch the concept of politics in the face.     Flump. This time it's two smaller rolls of fabric. One is a deep navy blue with stars and moons printed in the fabric, and the other other is a slightly shimmering iridescent blue-green. That one is clearly more than silk.     Susuto huff puffs at the exertion. "There. The two best blues I got. Though these ones aren't the cheap stuff, let me tell you. I had to get one of these off a quirin who wanted to have one of my legs as payment!" 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt is still holding a staff. She /can/ jab Staren with it. She does not. The explanation is acceptable to her. "Okay," she says, and that is that. "I wasn't sure, there's a lot of the miqo'te around here." Pause. "I'm not one either," she adds, as if people couldn't figure that out. Katt leans over to look at the cloth. "Oh, that's neat," she says, though she - mercifully! - doesn't grab at it. What does she know about sewing? Nothing, that's what. "Wait, what's a quirin? They shouldn't take your legs for payment! Are they bandits? Is there a bounty on 'em?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha answers that one as he pulls an apple from one of the bags over his shoulder. It was probably supposed to be for dinner or whatever. "They're... rat-lizard sorta guys. The more beastly ones got a taste for peoplemeat, and they forget that that's not... how most of the races do things." He takes a bite of his apple ,and watches the exchange, though...     Staren asks that question of Inga, and the catman tenses a little bit. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Complicated. Yes, that would describe Staren fairly well! Inga's mouth quirks into a brief, amused smile before looking back to the silks. She touches each of them, but its clear she's favoring the iridescent blue-green. Goodness knows where she'd wear it, but she wants it regardless. "I'll take this one. Raha, you will arrange payment?" she asks, as she isn't really sure of the conversion rate. She's in Ul'dah, surrounded by cat people, and only one of them is local. That really is strange, but...she used to strange things. Fate is a funny thing. Inga looks to Staren, blinking in surprise. A bit of the color drains from her face as she looks away. The muscles in her jaw flicker as she clenches her teeth. She merely nods to Staren in appreciation. She can't trust words at the moment. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren doesn't seem bothered by Katt confusing him for a mi'qote. He looks more like them than she does, after all. She asks what a quilin is, and he wonders too -- he's imagining Sasuto negotiating with an intelligent dragon-horse thing -- but then she describes something completely different has that name here. Huh.     AWKWARD MOMENTS WITH INGA: Yeah he came and tailed her without telling her because he was concerned and now he's worried that might be taken as creepy, but it seems that's not the issue foremost on her mind. He tilts his head forward slightly, ears splayed and tail drooping at her reaction. He doesn't say more; Clearly she's not feeling like talking about it now, and hey, it'd be super rude to force her in the middle of a shopping trip. It's not like she's someone who lets their issues endanger people like pre-Maslow August, so why force a confrontation?     He just looks back to the merchant to watch the exchange as Inga buys the silk. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     RAha shuffles over to the counter, considers things, and then shuffles a slip of paper out of his pocket, scribblign on it with a pencil. "Put it on this tab, we're good for it. Tell Tataru it's for one of the offworlders, she'll understand." A smile to Susuto and he hoists the silk into the bags...     Only to catch Inga going rigid like that. He looks from the seer to the boy genius and back... before lightly squeezing Inga on the shoulder. No words. He's here, though.     Though, he's being rude. "Miss Katt, how are you liking Ul'dah?" 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt is still leaned over to look at the cloth. She doesn't really notice Inga freezing up when Staren says something that doesn't *sound* like it should cause a problem. She straightens back up a few moments later when she hears her name. "Oh, you remembered it!" She's been on the radio enough that it's not much of a surprise even if N'raha (and indeed most of the people here) hasn't actually seen her before. "It's pretty big. I like it. I'm from a big city with a coliseum too, though I haven't been to the coliseum here yet. Do they take entrants? I'm a gladiator," she clarifies, as if that wasn't clear enough. "Oh, yeah, and I'm Katt." For those who may not have known. "But... you heard that already." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "'Miss Cat'? We could at least ask her name." Staren points out, looking to N'Raha and then to Katt. "Sorry, what is your name? I'm Staren." He holds out a hand to shake. -- and then she introduces herself, that's actually her name. Oh. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga closes her eyes for a moment as Raha squeazes her shoulder in support. It's true, she doesn't want to talk about it. She's torn between appreciating the care of her friends and not wanting to be pitied. She takes a breath and opens her eyes, looking toward Katt. "Your name is Katt? A pleasure to meet you. I'm Inga Freyjasdottir," she introduces as her silk is packaged and Raha puts it on the Scion's tab, presumably. She gives him the side-eye. "I will see that you are paid back," she informs him. "Perhaps we can get out of this sun and have a cool drink? And what may I ask is a gladiator?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Naturally. And I'm N'Raha." He smiles to Katt. "Friend."     He'd hold out a hand but he's already back to carrying bags now as he tries to maneuver the crowd out of the sun and away from the heat. "Gladiator, it's a word for Prize Fighter, sometimes willing, sometimes not. I used to fight on the Bloodsands myself a time or two, but took up the axe instead of the sword."     Their destination is just up a flight of st- stairs, right. he angles around to find the ramp for Inga, and leads them up towards a large set of doors and into...     The Quicksand. Tavern, Inn, and home of the Ul'dan Adventurer's Guild. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' "K-A-T-T," Katt spells out, because she's gotten this before. "And I'm a woren, not a cat, like the people here are miqo'te. So it's a perfectly fine name and not something weird." She accepts Staren's hand, then Inga's if she offers it - N'raha has hands full, as she's already noticed. "And yeah, I'm a fighter for the crowds!" She shadowboxes, coming about two inches from popping Staren in the nose (sorry, Staren) - though she doesn't quite hit him, even if he doesn't flinch away from it. "I'm actually a champion, at home, or I was, but I don't fight in Coursair anymore. So I've been looking for other places to get matches. I don't use the sword either, though." She raps her staff against the ground by way of emphasis while walking toward the Quicksand. She forgot about her fish. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren nods at Katt's explanation, and at Inga's suggestion to get out of the sun. "They fight for the entertainment of others." Staren adds, unsure if 'prize fighter' made that clear.     Staren flinches at the fake punch. He hasn't bothered to work on the whole 'cool guys don't flinch' because... well, he can't devote that much time to looking cool. Fortunately, from context he can TELL it's a fake punch, so he isn't diving for cover and drawing his gun.     ...13 years in the Multiverse, man.     On to the Quicksand! Staren takes a couple seconds to look around, then lets N'raha lead them to a table or the bar or whatever.     "So uh... what else are you guys working on these days?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It's not nearly as crowded as it might be, but maybe that's just a figment of the cosiness of the place. There's seemingly room for everyone, but just enough. Just enough space so that you don't feel penned in, but aware that there's lots of people in here. How does Momodi do it?     Raha sighs a bit, finding a table for people, and unloading Inga's haul. "Honestly? Not a lot. The Garleans have been quiet, none of the beast tribes have taken to summoning for a while. The biggest thing has really been the Minstrel on tour."     He waves to one of the waitresses, a miqo'te girl in a fetching long black skirt, who starts taking orders and bringing water. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga follows Raha's lead to the Quicksand, frankly surprised there even is a ramp. She's pleased. "Ah, I see. I did not mean to be rude. A quirk of language," she says to Katt. Poor Raha needs a break from carrying all her bags! Inga 'oooohs' at the explaination. "I see. I think I have heard of such things. I believe it was popular long ago in Rome," she says. "Of course it still exists in my world too. They call it boxing. It's much less lethal." Inga falls gratefully into a seat and takes off the scarf she had tied around her head. It is cooler in here, she'd like to let her scalp breathe. To Staren, she shrugs. "The usual really, though I have been trying to get back out and into the multiverse. Dun Realtai has been relatively quiet." She would order a cool drink, then finally bring up her question for N'raha. "I can't help but notice people seem to look at you like they are a bit surprised to see you. Especially the other miqo'te...." 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt plops down in a seat of her own, leaning her staff up against the table as she settles down. "Oh, boxing," she says, slightly dismissively. "That's just fistfighting. I do a little more than that! But I know what that is, at least." Katt's idea of 'boxing' is probably not quite the same as Inga's, but at least she sort of knows what it is. Since Katt never met Staren before, she assumes he's not asking her (plus, she said: she was looking to see if she could get some matches in here) so instead she distracts herself by ordering. "Do you have something to eat?" she says, a little hopefully. "Along with the water." She settles on ordering something meaty, if it's available. "They look at everyone," she adds, after Inga speaks. "They looked at /me/ too, and I'm perfectly normal." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The waitress catte happily takes food orders as well, scooting off to fill those as quick as she can. Hooray, meat onna stick, that's nice and easy.     "Oh. Uh." Raha's ears pinken just a little bit as he gets That Question. He huffs and his tail swishes and he sighs. "It's... strange to see a male Miqo'te of my age here in Ul'dah because by and large by the time we're adults we're typically back out with the Tribe or... just gone." He scratches at the back of his head. "Because there's so few of us." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga manages not to react to Katt saying she's perfectly normal. She suppose she must be where she is from. Inga is likely the strange one. Inga furrows her brow at Raha. "What do you mean, gone?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren nods at Inga's comment about Dun Realtai being quiet. And then when she points out everyone's looking at N'Raha he asks, "Oh, are you famous?" He explains. "Oh." Long pause. "Is... is it a problem?"     And here's the waitress! "Any reccomendations?" Staren asks Raha. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's no avoiding it now. "Well, I'm famous because I'm old enough to have a family of my own and I don't. AND becase I'm the Warrior of Light. That's two different things for groups of people." Raha's ears are turning redder now, as he sips on his water, trying to burn off the embarassment of explaining this to outsiders.     "Because... there is only /male/ miqo'te for every dozen or so female Miqote." He lets that sink in a bit, as the waitress catte comes back, drops off Katt's food and everyone else's drinks, and then makes eyes at Raha, and even flicks her tail a bit as she leaves.     ...Oh. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' It's funny, since woren are not especially common where Katt is from - in fact, she's only ever seen a bare handful of local woren. She sees more feline people in the room now than she ever met in Coursair. And yet she still considers herself normal... and there's an awful lot of non-humans at home, too. "Huh, really?" she says. "Well, you look pretty skinny for a woren boy. They tend to be really - " She takes an exaggerated bodybuilder pose that she really doesn't have the bulk to manage. "Burly. But I figured there were boy miqo'tes around and they just looked more like you, but they're not from Ul'dah. Anyway, I don't mind the look, but you're a little short on fur, aren't you?" She grins a thanks at the waitress, her own tail flicking too. It's not flirtateous. Probably. Not with the waitress, anyway. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's mouths an 'aaah' as suddenly things begin to make sense. That's what all those looks were about. She can't help it. She laughs. "Poor Raha," she giggles. The flick of the waitress' tail just increases the giggling. Then Katt chimes in and she really has to struggle not to laugh out loud. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren is absolutely sure that if the imbalance bothers mi'qote society at all it can be solved with a bunch of cloning tanks, and maybe even an effort at genetic manipulation! But uhh, that'd be rude to just /ask/, and while N'Raha indicates that he's unusual, he doesn't seem to be indicating that it's a problem for Mi'qote /society/.     Raha is short on fur? "How can you tell? He's wearing pants." he hopes that's taken as a friendly jibe and that it doesn't hit some woren cultural thing. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's fur prickles and fluffs up, but he just sighs and leans forward. Might as well... say everything. "So back home, the males are put in charge of the clans, they have a bunch of wives and that's how things work in the deserts." He waves at the blue-skinned Miq girl across the room, who seems to be having no trouble keeping her eyes off Raha.     "The miqo'te of the Shroud are Matriarchal, so it's all aunts and stuff and the fellas get... sort of shuffled around to families who need younglings."     His ears are scorching. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' "Good point," Katt allows, tapping her chin thoughtfully before picking up one of the meat skewers. Her grin broadens before she takes a bite out of it - maybe she thinks it's funny that he's embarrassed. "Really, the wives have to share? That's not very fair, is it?" Katt's brow furrows before she takes a bite, chewing on that for a few moments. Then she leans over and slaps N'raha in a friendly manner on the shoulder. "Well, it's all fine. YOU didn't set it up, you don't have to turn red! It's kind of funny when you do, though..." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Oh goodness. Inga covers her mouth and shakes her head. It takes her a moment to get things under control. She takes a deep breath. "I suppose that must be a lot of pressure," she says, looking toward Staren, just begging him not to say something...Staren-ish. To Katt, Inga shrugs. "Mmm, to some women it is a fine arrangement I suppose. Easier to raise children and whatnot with more help around. Its not a situation I would consider," she adds with a shrug. She looks between Katt and Raha, exhales quickly through her nose then lifts her drink to her lips. Some kind of fruity beverage. It's delicious. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren listens somewhat impassively. It's logical that a gender imbalance is going to shape society in certain ways, after all. As long as nobody's mistreated, it's not a problem to be fixed, right?     His expression slightly darkens at the word 'Shroud'. Ugh, /those/ idiots. If anyone had a problem with the way they do things they'd run screaming out of the shroud at the first opportunity, he's sure.     "If it isn't bothering anyone..." he shrugs. "Curious that you seem to yourself feel it's odd, though. Were you raised by humans or something?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a bit of a snap. "Do you like talking about your species' mating habits with people, Staren?" Raha's tail flick flick flicks, his ears puffed up. "I... you're... well Inga's a friend and she asked and...     A breath. "And yeah. I-it was nice having a bunch of aunts and mom and sisters around, so... it's not... not strange, but it's strange having to explain that to other people and why... uh."     He takes a drink of water and mumbles something that sounds a lot like 'old maid'. It's hard to tell. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt shrugs. "I guess," Katt says, when Inga brings it up; Katt doesn't think about children at all, so she doesn't think about how it would be hard or easy to raise one. Katt seems impossible to embarrass herself, but she does stop needling N'raha about it, at least. "Well, just keep doing what you like, then. That's what I do," she says, jabbing a thumb at her own chest. "And if someone else gives you trouble, just tell them it's not their business! And if they /keep/ giving you trouble, well, you can figure out what to do from there." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks embarrassed now, and apologetic. "I'm sorry Raha, I didn't know it would be such an embarrassing subject," she says, sheepish. It was just an observation, she didn't think it would turn into a thing...and after all Raha's done for her lately. Maybe a small distraction but... "You know, its rather late now but I did neglect to pass out a few Yule gifts," she says, then goes digging into the pouch at her belt that holds way more than it should be capable of. She pulls out a wrapped box and slides it accross the table toward Raha. She then goes back and pulls out another box, passing it to Staren. She looks apologetically toward Katt. "I'm afraid I don't have a gift for you, as we only just met but...I can offer a taco?" she says, and...pulls out a perfectly fresh, hot, delicious smelling taco. There might be a little bit of honey on it, though. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren blinks. "I don't have a species, I'm a one-of-a-kind halfbreed." he states innocently. "Facts are facts though. Stuff happens, or there would be no more mi'qote, and no more humans, and no more quite a lot of people. People shouldn't be embarassed about things so vital to their existence... At least, in generalities. /Your/ life specifically is personal, of course." He shrugs at the rest, and then nods enthusiastically with Katt's assessment.     And then, surprise gifts! He looks at the box, surprised. "Should I open it here, or...?" he asks, unsurely. He doesn't want to make a social faux pas that insults Inga or something. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga waves her hand toward Staren and nods, indicating he should go ahead. Inside, there is a knitted kerchief--like the bandanas he usually wears, but made of soft wool so its nice and warm. It's a fetching brick red. In Raha's box, there is a handknit hat in a dark grey yarn that actually has space inside it to fit his ears. A slouchy style, very fashionable. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' Katt would not have expected a gift from someone she just met. She's not going to complain about getting one. "Hey, thank you," she says. "I don't have anything at all for you, I haven't really done my shopping today! But I won't say no to a taco." Even though she already ate two of those meat-on-a-sticks and some grilled nopales, and even if it has honey on it. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Huff. Puff. Raha's ears defalte and go slowly regular pink again as he settles down, his tail swishing less spastically. "Right, well. Yeah." Yeah. Yeah you tell them.     He sighs a bit and slides the box open to find... a hat. A knit hat.     Oh. "Oh. That's why you kicked me out, okay." He shuffles a bit, and slides the hat over his head, wiggling it just soooooo, until it's clear his ears are in the right spot. "Oh. Hey. Nifty. That'll help back in the Dun. AND in Courthas. Thanks!"     He shifts a bit in his chair, before pulling the hat off his head and tucking it... wherever the rest of his gear goes. "And here I didn't get you anything, Inga, I'm sorry." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     The catman's eyes widen a bit as he looks at the gift, then to Inga. "Thank you." He reaches behind his neck and undoes his bandana, slipping off the ringlike clap it's tied with and slipping it onto his finger -- a tarnished-silver-looking ring with a design etched in the surface of lines at right angles, and a clear, hemispherical stone set in it. Taking the bandana off reveals three pendants under it: a small, rectangular metal plate with glyphs of some sort and another clear crystal, a large opal set in finely-sculpted silver hanging from a leather and wire thong, and a simple disc with yet another clear crystal on a simple cord. He ties Inga's present around his neck, then adjusts the goggles around his neck so they lay over it.     After a moment, he looks at Inga a bit awkwardly. "Um... I'm sorry, I'm terrible with gifts. I uh... I'm happy to help someone get what they need or want, I just... if there's anything you wanted for Christmas, let me know?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga waves her hand dismissively at Raha. "It is not your custom. But in my home one should always get a new article of clothing on Yule. It is a tradition. They say those who do not will be eaten by the Yule Cat--a monsterous, giant cat," she explains. Her cheeks are slightly pink. She seems glad hear gifts are enjoyed. Staren also gets a wave of dismissal, but also a scoff. "Tch, I do not want anything for /christmas/....but, I shall let you know," she says with a nod, softening her prickly tone by the end. Well, at least they aren't talking about mating anymore. 

:'''{{#var:6860|Katt (6860)}} has posed:''' "Meow," Katt says once she's swallowed. after the Yule Cat explanation. Yes, that is a joke. She grins, showing teeth. Don't worry; it means she's being friendly. "Do you have enough stuff in there?" she asks Staren, before applying herself to the rest of the taco. 
}}

6325/You Have Selected Regicide

2019-01-24T22:20:11Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/01/23 |Location=Thornmarch |Synopsis=The Adventurers infiltrate the heart of Moogle Country and put down Good King Moggle Mog, Twelfth of His..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/01/23
|Location=Thornmarch
|Synopsis=The Adventurers infiltrate the heart of Moogle Country and put down Good King Moggle Mog, Twelfth of His Name, Kupo.
|Cast of Characters=819, 954, 525, 994, 454, 6
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     TRIAL: Thornmarch (Hard)     The Scions of the Seventh Dawn have lead the Adventurers, Offworlders, and assorted Elites to a heavily tangled thicket of brambles, roots and gnarled plant growth deep in the thickets of the Black Shroud... and here, standing in the dimly lit undergrowth, stands a towering, ancient, corrupted aetheryte, just barely functioning enough to put out a feeble light to show it's in operation.     N'Raha is here, clad in his distinctive heavy red plate mail, looking for all the world like a Super Sentai character. The visor's up so people can see his face, though. Alongside him are a pack of brainy looking types, an extremely tall elf in robes wearing goggles, another catperson, this time a white haired lady cat. And a anxious looking young elven man, wearing blue and pacing as people file in.     He's also chatting. "Honestly, I do not like this. We have no proper intelligence on Moggle Mog's capabilities. We know the Mogglesguard have... comparable powers to adventurers, but..."     The catlady demurs. "Auphiaud, The Warrior of Light has handled more than enough Primals, I think we should have faith, don't you? Also, you are pacing."     N'raha, for his part, is leaning up against the Aetheryte, eating an apple, looking... very nonplussed that he's being talked about like this. His tail swishes easily... and those who know the warrior will spot that he's calmer than he usually is. He's about to get into his element. No sense wasting energy now. 

:'''{{#var:954|Count Kord (954)}} has posed:'''     'File in.' Kord arrives carrying a Thunderwolf in his enormous talons, the elephant-sized creature somewhat unhappy with its treatment but otherwise unharmed. He flies in, nimble even in the close quarters of the thicket, and politely sets the creature down, then flits up to a perch and lands here where the others have arranged themselves to look down at them in imperious fashion. He briefly puffs his 'feathers' and leers down at everyone with a mild, avian-draconic disdain, but awaits the explanation of the battle they are all due to fight. He shuffles in place on his perch in impatience for a second.     "This should be good fun," he muses aloud, his hollow echoing voice drooling with dracula-alike tonation.     -- EARLIER     A lone thunderwolf is minding his own business where Mort is presently residing. Kord flies in to land nearby, looking at the fluffy creature in thought. He then announces, "Let's go have some fun, Mortimer!" And then he flaps his wings and simply plucks the enormous wolf off the ground and takes flight before the badger man can argue. "We're off to glorious battle!" he calls, as he gains altitude. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is also here, sitting on the ground near N'raha, waiting for the others who are coming to help them to arrive. She listens to the Scions and Alphinaud's worrying, not sure if there is much she can do to ease his fears. "Worry not, we will see that this is dealt with," she assures him. She doesn't have nearly as much experience at this as Raha, but it isn't her first rodeo either. Inga is dressed for battle--in an Inga sort of way. This simply means she's wearing dark colors that won't blood stain and a number of talismans. Her knife is strapped to her belt and she has her staff in hand. That's all she needs. Inga looks to Raha, raising a brow slightly. Well, he seems calm. That's good. Inga blinks then as some creature is dropped from the air into their general area. She looks over toward Kord blankly. What? 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     Sounds of rustling and rattling in the brush is certainly not an unfamilar sound in the background of the gnarled overgrowth of the Shroud... But what about munching? But that is exactly what it is, a goat-like head pushing through the tangled foilage as he takes a big bite out of it, continuing to chew on it like ungulates are wont to do as he pushes the rest of the way through. With Athela sitting on his back. Who needs a machete when your mount can just clear a path, right?     "Now I see why many adventurers doth not travel these parts openly," comments the lady knight as she pulls a few twigs out of her cloak and smooths it down. "But Brushguard should be fed for some time. So this be the place?" She slides off the Gogoat's backside, only to pause as she stares up at the aetheryte, nose crickling a bit. "It.. is not suppose to look that way, is it?"     And then Kord of all beings drops in on the gathering with some monsterous sized wolf in tow. She blinks once, then again, and.. finally just rolls out a sigh. "I be not sure if I even want to know what he's up to..." 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      The people of Eorzea would no doubt be quite surprised to see a strange humanoid badger with a mass of wraithly flame coming off of his head come screaming bloody murder out of the nearest Gate, dragging behind a giant butterfly with an absurdly British mustache and a tortoise creature of deepest cerulean who just looks cranky as hell. They're probably more surprised to see this man chasing after a giant flying demon-bird-thing that is carrying a wolf the size of an African elephant, and crying like a scared puppy. No doubt at least one person will pause and swear to quit drinking forever.      Mortimer will however not be deterred by any obstacle, person or monster, in his pursuit of Kord. He's furious and things that get in his way are liable to catch fire if they can actually pose him an obstacle or threat. "I'M GONNA KICK YOU IN THE DICK SO HARD YOUR MATE WILL LAY SCRAMBLED EGGS, GODLING!" Comes a booming roar not too far behind Kord. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has been informed of the issue in the Thornmarch so the Salamander was here more than willing to help out the Scions after all it paid to make friend and allies. Still just letting something like this rampage about didn't sit well with her. She'd known a few deities oddly enough to say in her life in the multiverse, but those ones? Didn't eat people's minds like the Primals were wont to do, she's clad in the mix of what seems to be plate and cloth that she normally wears and seems to be making ready for a moment. "Heard you had a primal problem I'm ready to go is there anything additional we need to know about this Primal and the situation with it in general?" Then she hears Mort over the comm. what the blue blazes is going on with that and she just looks at at the source of the voice. "Count Kord what did you do?!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Well never let it be said that Offworlders weren't an unruly lot. N'raha just looks up at the batch of ne'er-do-wells that are joining him on this little fiasco and... grins, lowering his visor. The slightly hollow voice rings out from behind it. "Well, Alphinaud, are you convinced we're okay now? You've got beastmen, knights, and Inga with us. We can't lose." Something cocky in his voice as he tosses his apple into the woods with a mighty throw... and then taps Inga on the shoulder. "Let's do this. Urangier, get them through." And then he vanishes in a cloud of blue magical static.     And as the young elf just fumes lightly at the slightly obnoxious scene going on, and the catlady pats his shoulder, the tall elf closes the book he's reading with a decisive SNAP. "Delay is not advised, Adventurers. Please approach the aetheryte and press your hand against it."     And as every follows suit...     The group will find itself in the only clearing in a heavily overgrown forest, deep in the Shroud, and deep in Moogle territory. And there's a catman in armor, calmly staring down a pack of big-ass moogles, that are clearly discussing what to do with him. Each one seems to be armed with a set of adventurers gear, whether bow or axe or spear or knives, staff and wand... And they seem to be planning murder in adorable voices, kupo.     Though as more and more of you appear, they start to flail about. The one with the sword and shield though, seems to get everything back under control. And in a cute little warble, he calls out. Mogglesguard... charge!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' If Inga had been drinking something, she absolutely would have done a spit-take when a badger man arrived. Inga is accustomed to seeing all sorts of strange things, but this arrival has her eyes widening. Has she eaten some moldy bread or something!? Either way, things threated to get derailed and completely out of hand her. Inga scoffs and looks to Raha as she props her stick on the ground and uses it to help herself get to her feet. Beastmen, knights, and Inga. Tch! She nods to Raha, then looks to Kord and Mort. "We do not have time for this--I do hope you are here to assist us and can put your quarrel off until afterward," she says to them, then turns her gaze to Urianger. She has to crane her neck to look him in the eye (eye...area). She follows his direction, places her hand upon the aetherite... And there they are. Being charged by adorable moogles. Truely this must be the hardest part of this. Forgetting how adorable they are as you beat them up. Inga pulls her knife, casually stabs herself, and flicks a blood ward around herself that protects her from the brunt of the charge. She fires back with burst of force, aiming her staff and hissing a quick incantation to blast the moogles back and away from her. Inga likes to do things from a safe distance. 

:'''{{#var:954|Count Kord (954)}} has posed:'''     Kord tells Mortimer as he arrives, "Can't punch me if you can't catch me," and then taps his beak on the Aetheryte. He vanishes from Mortimer's sight, and appears where everyone else is.     And hears the sound of a cute moogle thing charging at him, attempting to stab him. He calmly puts up one of his wings to parry some of their blows, and glances about at the crowd of unruly creatures. One of his eyes briefly close in thought. "It almost feels tragic that I'm going to destroy you," he thinks aloud. Then he breaks the weapon clash he's in with his wing-claws and emits a blast of slicing wind out in a large shockwave, trying to bowl over innumerable moogle adventurers, or hurt the few that got close to him. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     Kord did that.. just to... Athela shakes her head. Okay, whatever, Kord's inability to just talk to people is neither her problem at the moment, nor the time to bother with it.     Instead Athela turns and points to her Gogoat. "Stay here, guard the Scions and the crystal." Last thing they need is some wild monsters showing up to ruin what she imagines is also their only way back once the deed is done. Brushguard grunts and nods in confirmation, then goes back to grazing on the overgrowth. With one pokemon left on overwatch she walks over with the others and puts her hand to the crystal as instructed... And is somewhere else entirely.     And almost immeadiately under attack via adorable archery. Reflexively she draws her weapon and swings it up, slicing several of the arrows right out of the air, save one that manages to dip lower and graze her side. Tch. "There is only one way to deal with this. Slurry!" The pink and lavander blob poked out from under her cloak. "The archer, we need to deal with him." She holds out her weapon at arms length, allowing the slug-dragon to slither down onto it. She spins around twice in place and then with an "Ally oop!" catapults the Goomy off hurtling into the air, right towards Puksi!     The cute slug-dragon is just going to give the cute furball a hug. By clinging to its face. But being covered in sticky, acidic slime, it's not a very happy at all. 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mortimer's mouth is leaking flames as he gets ready to lay an atrociously ugly beating upon Kord. And then.. MAGIC. And they are elsewhere. "What the blue-blazing post-modern FU-" He's cut off by the sudden change in environment, and the sudden appearance of armed moogles. "...What?" And then he catches a sharp object into his side. "Nngh! You little-" He grabs the moogle by the face, and geometric symbols both circular and triangular start etching themselves into the air around it, like little lines of ice... Mort intones a strange incantation, "Biting wings of the Winterlord, remind us of forgotten truths: Patient Frozen Phoenix- Broken Glacier Storm!"      The temperature around his hand drops drastically, and then the Moogle is flung into the ground by a withering blast of ice and snow. It's probably not a good idea to just charge someone who's clearly angry with weapons. Of course, he doesn't realize what's going on all that well yet. Maybe it won't kill the little thing, though. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has heard of Moogles before but never seen ones quite like this before they are coming in right after them in a group? Wait are they the one being raided? Old habits kick in without much thought on her part. She will move to engage Kupdi Koop. She attempts to evade the attack however she not successful while she parries it somewhat the force of the blow does some damage all on its own even as she directly avoids a direct hit. Which she's quite glad she did so. She also seems to be trying to keep an eye on Inga too not wanting to see her friend and one of the healers of note who are here to go down. Even if Inga is Immortal? One dying sucks, two she can keep other people who don't get up from dying and four she is her friend too. Tomoe's counter-attack comes now. "All right then if you want this fight?! Then your going to get it!" She had no idea Moogles could get this vicous realluy. Now she knows they can and that's disturbing to her. Even as she moves to launch several more attacks at the Moogle who came after her. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The desperate problem with being moogles, though, is that individually none of these guy are all that tough, especially to Elites. And yes, they are adorable. And yes, they are more than fluffy. And none of these attacks are good things.     Mortimer charges poor Pukla Puki, who gets off a sparkle of fizzled magic before falling to the ground, frozen and twitching.     Kord singles out poor Pukna, the thief mog fluttering to the ground and twitching. "...kupo."     Inga's glancing blow even casts poor Kupta to the ground. No blood though. Actually none of these guys seem to be taking 'lethal' attacks. They might not be made of anything that can be hurt like that?     N'raha, for his part, shoulder tackles a Mogglesguard holding a healer's staff and is presently stomping it in the back of the head. Rude.     Puksi yelps. "KUPO! Kupqu! Help me!" The rangermog floats over, and as the bard starts singing a song, the Ranger starts firing harder at people, volley after volley of sharp arrows with stinging barbs.     Kupdi, the Paladin, charges at Mort, his little shield raised and shining, as he tries to sort out who's next. This isn't looking good for the Mogglesguard. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga blinks at Raha's moogle head stomping, her mouth hanging open, agast. "I thought we were not suppose to kill them!" she exclaims, just as she takes an arrow to the arm. It grazes her, and the blood running down her arm can only be uses to her advantage. She flicks blood toward whomever is closest and appears to be injured, then with her other hand raises her staff. The air grows cold around her, breath misting as she exclaims "Isa!" and sends her magic hurtling toward the moogle archer, aiming to freez him into a moogle-cicle, and most importantly, stop him from firing volleys of arrows. 

:'''{{#var:954|Count Kord (954)}} has posed:'''     Kord utterly floors a moogle Thief, which doesn't surprise him all that much. He looks down at the twitching creature for a moment, and takes note that it isn't bleeding or convulsing... he probably can't kill these things that easily, and that means he doesn't have to worry about it all that much. So, he looks up and... oh, they're attacking him again. The twenty foot tall bird-dragon is distressingly easy to strike, and his attempt to swat away the arrows just results in some of them digging into his flesh and making him hiss in pain.     Then they fall from his bleeding flesh as he briefly loses coherence, so that they don't hinder him for the fight ahead. He responds to the volley of arrows by singling out the bard. He braces himself, opens his maw, and fires a sphere of purple-blue energy at the moogle like a sniper shot, black lightning crackling along his body. The Shadow Ball is just 'ghost' energy condensed into a damaging shot. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's head snaps up and he stops stomping, turning to look at Inga. "HE WAS TRYING TO CHOKE ME OUT WITH MAGIC!"     And then the arrows come in and he's running for cover. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "Fair enough!" Inga shouts back. Raha's temper is going to make being non-lethal a bit difficult it would seem! 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     That did not work quite as intended. Likely means they need to practice that trick more, but now is not the time to fret over it. Athela tries to muscle her way closer but even her quick dexterity can deflect through that many arrows coming down like a hailstorm. An arrow might not do much to her armor on its own, but when it's hitting again and again and again. And now the archer is getting help from the bard as well. "Slurry, you okay?"     The Goomy wobbles where he landed as he shakes off, and burbles an afirmative. "Okay then." While normally she would not put so much reliance into her pokemon, she's trying to conserve some of her strength for the core of the problem when it finally appears. So instead she points her weapon encouragingly towards the MogArcher and MogBard. "Use Sludge Wave!" "Goooo!" What would pass for cheeks briefly bulge out to the point that they're as large and wobbly round as the Goomy is himself. Then he opens up, spewing a huge surge of poisonous purple slime towards the duo! 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mortimer is again assaulted by angry little beasts that stab and jab at him and he is getting PRETTY DAMNED FED UP WITH THIS. Because he doesn't know their deal, he only knows that Kord has goaded him into a battle without his consent. "That does it." He grabs the little Moogledin's weapon and throws the damnable thing away from him, after ripping said weapon out of his chest. He starts chanting a new spell. Dark energies appear swirling around him, carving symbols that bleed in the air. He weaves his hands through them. "Switchbait, assist me! Sleep Spores!" "<Of course, sah!>" The little Butterfree floats toward his master, flapping his wings hard and giving off dust.      Mort's words carry Power when he speaks, "Behold, for I am One touched by Yveltal, Who Presides over the End of Worlds. Flee for your lives if you value them but a little." The winds kick up hard around Mortimer. An oily, pitch smoke follows and carries the spores, threatening to drown the Moogles- and only them, somehow- in a tide of choking, cloying darkness that makes it hard to see, hear, or speak. "Berefet of sight, remember childhood terrors: Blind Silence Requiem." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Cute murder is still cute murder in the end. Tomoe is not having too much luck at this point. Kudi Koop has got away on her as the ranger opens up on her she takes several hits and keeps on running, one arrow still in her for the moment she has got an idea from the Moogle Paladin she's going to shield charge the Ranger to put an end to his volley of fire. She becomes a freight train barreling at them as she lowers the mourning wall with the intention to slam into the Moogle Ranger. "You want to play that game? FINE!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Another round of attacks proves if not lethal to the Mogglesguard, then at least very much incapacitating. One by one the remaining Moogles fall to the dirt until they're all twitching and groaning, kupo.     And then there's a squawk from Whiskerwall Kupdi Koop. "The King! We must summon the King! To me, Mogglesguard!" A flutter of motion, and the squad of warriors is up to their wings and gathering in a circle in the middle of the clearing. From somewhere, a song starts playing, and the Mogglesguard starts to... dance. It's a butt shaking, pom waggling affair, as they spin and boogie in place... "HAIL TO THE KING, KUPO!"     And from the center, with a little bit of fanfare, out of the misty ground, rises the largest damn moogle any one of you has ever seen. And for some that hasn't been that long, but. He's got a crown, a massive gilded wizard's staff, and seems to be pissed. With a thundering Kupo, it calls out. "You shall suffer for your transgressions against my subjects! KUPO." There's a moment, as he casts... some sort of spell, and the whole sky darkens, stars that... honestly shouldn't exist and weren't there a few moments ago shining bright and deadly in the sky. The whole battlefield shifts somehow, and there's a genuine malice in the air now. This has changed things. This is not a Good King Moggle Mog, Twelfth of His Name. Whatever this is in front of you, it is...Wrong. And Terrifying. And Other.     And Cute.     And with a cry, the Mogglesguard come charging in at the party once more, their attacks bolstered by the presence of their 'King'. "KUPO!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The wisewoman of Uppsala frowns deeply as the Moogle's guard summons their king. He is large, he is menacing, he is....still sort of adorable! But the aura of malice her exudes is /not/ adorable and she doesn't fancy dying in this fight. That would be be /embarrassing/. It is time to step up her game. Now that Moggle Mog has been summoned, they can focus upon him and work toward finishing this. But first, Inga is set on fire. It is not fun. It is, in fact, rather painful! She lets out a quick scream then, cuts open a new wound in her arm, healing herself with a cloud of crimson. There's nothing quite like being set on fire to piss off a witch. Blood continues to pour from her wound, rising in the air and solidifying into several sharp javelins. With a flick of her knife she sends the blood spears hurtling toward Moggle Mog. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The Moogle Guard is dropped by the combined effort but this feels too easy to Tmoe even as she comes up form her last attack she looks to see as the King Arrives. There's a pang of fear given she knows what Primals can do. She's not a chosen one, she has no special defences against something like that. She's going to hit hard fray and pray that they can take this cute avatar of power down. She readies herself but then comes the Kupat Kapa with one heck of an axe which connects getting in under Tomoe's guard leaving a clear sign of injury on her. Even more so her body distorted in an unnatural way, red jagged lines like a wireframe on a computer model. Tomoe keeps moving, knowing that slowing down would be a hell of a bad idea here. She will turn about launching a sword art , this time at the Moogle Guard. Her blade glows white and then comes the inhumanely fast attack as Tomoe clearly is trying to break through the others guard by brute force. "We need to take the King down!" 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     "Good job." In the brief break in combat while the moogles seem to be down Athela kneels to pick the small slug up and reposit him on her shoulder. "Though we shall work on the launching late--"     She trails off as the King Him Mog Self does appear finally, and things start to turn dark both literally and figuratively. She frowns, regripping her sword tightly. "It t'would seem the Scions were correct about possible corruption from the method used. This doth not bode well. Dark skies herald a rising storm..."     But first they have the Moogleguard making one more push. "Have at ye--eep!" The small and spritely Pukna Pako leaps upon her before she can finish an appropriate challenge. The daggers jab repeatedly before she manages to grab the little fuzzball of stabbity with her free hand. "You know not what folly ye have wrought."     Water erupts from her palm as she lets go, using her aquamancy to launch the moogle across the grove and hopefully out of the fight so they can focus on His Royal Mogness. 

:'''{{#var:954|Count Kord (954)}} has posed:'''     Kord does not enjoy the whole 'cute things trying to murder him' thing. It reminds him of Fairy-Types, and those things could be even more vicious, especially toward him. He grunts as a shield is thrown at him, and he simply weaves out of the way of it, narrowly avoiding being clipped by the flying defensive tool. He uses this moment to narrow his gaze upon the great King Mog, the Primal that seems quite intent on bringing down his faux-godly wrath upon them, complete with a vow to right the wrong of their actions.     "I'm the god here, pretender," he retorts confidently.     Then he flaps his wings and takes to the air, and aims down at the Primal. His underbelly glows a deep, bloody red, and energy crackles along his body, focused by both wings and his tail in an arc that connects at his mouth. Then, he fires a great red beam of energy that warps the air and annihilates the very light itself on its path toward his target, screaming through the air toward the being's center of mass. 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mortimer tries to get his footing, now that he's FINALLY no longer confused about what the Hell is going on. Unfortunately it seems as though the Moogles saw through his smokescreen, and a number of weapons are now stabbed INTO him. This is not pleasant, in fact quite painful. However, Mortimer is nothing if not resilient and now he's thinking much more clearly. He grabs at the weapons that some of the Moogles have stabbed him with, and holds them in place. "Reder! You're up!" "<You got it, Sarge!>"      While Mort holds the Moogles, the wartortle scampers into the field and looks up at this Primal.. Thing. "<Gods.. What a crock!>" It's now Reder's turn to do some wonky Pokemon magic shit, and he opens his mouth. A beam of ice fires forth like a laser- but the ground around him is now some strange, alien geometrimagic symbolism that only they know. The beam shatters mid-shot and reforms into the shape of a dragon's head, roaring and rising high into the air before slamming down toward the Good King with the force of a tidal wave, shattering and exploding into an avalanche of icy shrapnel. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     WOW! That is a LOT of brute force here. A whole lot of it. Though, most of it seems to be directed at The King Himself, Glory Be Upon His Whiskers. Especially that shot across the nose from Kord, which sends the Good King Moggle Mog End over End in the middle of the clearing. The rest of the Mogglesguard sort of turn to watch that, before scattering to the edges of the arena...     Inga and Raha will both get the flash before it happens. Terrible. Emptiness. A wide yawn of Nothing that spreads from... the King.     And then the King raises his staff. "NO LONGER SHALL YOU DARKEN THE STEPS OF MY PEOPLE, KUPO."             "MOMENTO MOOGLE."     There is an awful, terrible shift in the entire arena, as a dark, horrifying wave of pure uncaring relentless nothingness washes over every person present, ripping at the very heart of their beings.      

:'''{{#var:954|Count Kord (954)}} has posed:'''     The void washes over Kord. Nothingness stabs into every corner of his being. He can feel the life drain from his body, his flesh eroding under the dark magic of this terrible creature. And then, as quickly as it came, it's over, and he's sagged on the ground, wheezing, dripping blood from his form, trembling. He then sniffs in a breath, and flaps his wings once to rise up into the air. King Mog has not yet crushed his spirit. So he is going to take one last good shot at the Primal.     His body glows with powerful, soft blue energy, that radiates from his eyes. The power of the sky cloaks his body, wind curling and whipping around him. Then he launches himself toward the Primal as hard as he can, and tries to drive his claws into the creature, slamming forward at full speed with a furious and decisive roar. He doesn't understand quite what happened, and the pain of what was just done to him has sapped his tactical reasoning. Now, there is only murder. 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      The wave blasts into Mortimer and his crew. The old badger is clearly trying to cast some other spell, but he's cut off before he can even begin. When the wave passes, Reder and Switchbait are laying on the ground. Mort is on his knees.. But he's still holding onto the Moogles. Even as he coughs wetly and spits out a mouthful of blood. "Ulbrecht.. Go.." The beast was flattened.. But it's getting back up, and it's not the same scared puppy that got carried here by a giant bird-monster.      Teeth as big as swords are bared and glisten with its own blood. A horrid, deafening howling and braying is heard to defy the silent nothingness that just smashed the hell out of him, and his precious family. The fluffy fur is raised all around, and the wolf's eyes are filled with a bloodlust that is nothing short of terribly *human*. A wall of muscles and teeth charge the Great Primal King, weaving around behind it so it can get at the back of its head.      It's amazing and terrible to behold, in a primitive sort of way, just how wide those jaws can open.. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     There is a certain amount of awe in seeing Oblivion Wing in action. Awe and trepiditation. But there is little time to revel in it when a spiritual emptiness is brought out of the darkness in retaliation. "What the h--nngh!" Teeth clench in a snarl, cutting off the remark as Athela drops to a knee, the blade of her sword stabbing into the ground. Her hands tighten around the hilt, and the snarl turns into a growl as she bears down at the nothingless tearing into heart and soul. At ones very being.     But the Spirit of Justice refuses to cave in. Even wedged into the ground to support her Resolute Blade responds to the clenching, the blade beginning to glow as it resonates with her will. The will to fight for what is right and needs to be done. "No.. enough of this." Athela resteels her determination, pulling the weapon from the ground and standing. "You are not the king that was intended, only a monster taken his form to cast darkness and paranoia amongst his following. This we shall not allow!"     Both hands tightly around the hilt of her divine weapon as she raised it. Resolute Blade resonated with both spirit and magic, shimmering brightly as elemental energy channeled through the ancient sword, waterly swirls begining to churn around it. Then the young knight was off, barreling across the field of combat with only one objective in mind. She wound back with the empowered weapon and a burst of water in her wake boosting the young knight like a jet and launching her towards the Moogle King of Nothingness. "The Tides of Justice wash thou corruption away from this land!"     With the final battle cry Athela comes in swinging, unleashing a barrage of Water infused blows upon the Primal entity, crashing again and again like unrelenting waves in a raging storm. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga gasps as the vision takes her, shuddering with the terrible power of it. "On your guard!" she screams, and throws up a ward around herself quickly, the air humming with the power of her anima as it surges around her, protecting her from the horrible nothingness that sought to tear the soul from her body. Gaia plays the Nope card. When it is done, Inga is left standing and untouched, glowing with power. Those around her were not so lucky. Inga frowns, tossing her blood toward those most injured, trying to heal them enough to keep them alive and in this fight. But maybe its best if she just tries to finish this. Inga plants her staff before her, sheathing her knife to hold it with two hands as she begins to channel massive amounts of anima. The runs carved all along it's length burst into a brilliant blue-white light. The air around Inga crackles, her hair rising, electricity sparking from the tips of her fingernails. "THOR! LEND ME YOUR POWER!" she yells as a lightning storm explodes from her, thunder shaking the ground, bolt after bolt of lightning aimed to hammer Moggle Mog back to the realm from wence he came. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is about to find out that, there's the sense of fear that she knows somehow they have messed up. Then comes the proof in the form of Memento Moogle. The t dark magic passes through her and well kicks the everloving hell out of Tomoe even for her she feels if she's forced back but she endures it a lot better than some of the otehr warrios here do no small thanks to the help from Inga as she starts to recover after the spell fades. "...You ... want to rip me aparT?! BETTER THAN YOU HAVE TRIED AND SOME OF THEM WERE NOTHING MORE THAN SOULLESS AUTOMATONS!" Tomoe's wings flare out her blade catches with white fire, it's not Excalibur but a copy of it, even though it's a copy it still has a power of its own and she'll dive bomb at King intending it embed her sword into him. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Awwww jeez. All that Nothing, all of that endless yawning Lovecraftian nonsense and they're all still alive. Whatever Moggle Mog is seems perturbed, and He starts to castigate the party for still being mostly upright... when they all lash out at Him.     And it's not even close on this one. The giant Primal tries to stop the incoming attacks, but, everything, the slashing Sky Attack, the awful Norse overkill, the gawing biting, the rushing tsunami of swords, Not-Excalibur, and the overhand cleaving strikes from N'raha...     The King lets out a baleful, warbling 'kupo' before starting to vanish into motes of aether, literally boiling away into magic as His body comes apart. And just as quickly as he was called forth, Good King Moggle Mog, Twelfth of His Name, Kupo is No More.     Though, the Mogglesguard isn't here either. They've all skedaddled at some point. Probably while all y'all were busting the King open.     Raha staggers up to his feet, blood dripping from somewhere under his chest plate and shuffles over to the rest. "...And that." He flips up his visor. "Is how you handle a Primal." 

:'''{{#var:954|Count Kord (954)}} has posed:'''     Kord is sprawled on the ground. He's giggling to himself, but he's not really moving. "Great fun," he wheezes out.     Yep. His mood is currently 'Cloud Nine.' 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Mort pants a bit while slowly rising to his feet. Which is not a good idea as much as he's bleeding, but dumb jarheads are built on macho bullshit, after all. "Yeah... Cool.. So, who the Hell are you, what is a Primal, and why did Kord lure me here to help kill it, exactly? I just wanna know before I beat Kord until he's mortal again." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "It's a." The catman winces, and shuffles a Potion out of his pockets to chug. "Mmmmh. There. It's a manifestation of belief and faith, called forth by willing individuals in the presence of a great amount of localized aether... that goes around brainwashing people and sucking aether out of the land to maintain itself."     Raha claps Mortimer on the shoulder. "And you helped kill it. Bravo." He yanks his helmet off, and... oh. That's not good. One of his ears is drooping and not coming up. He tchs, and waits for Inga. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' All the lightning discharged, the baleful glow around the seeress dims. She watches as Moggle Mog becomes no more with a look of quiet satisfaction on her face. There is no cocky one-liners or triumphant poses. Just a soft, sly smile before she returns to the tasks at hand. There is a fairly large number of people bleeding, and thus her work is not over. She looks to N'raha, frowning deeply at the blood seeping out from beneath his chestplate. She points at him. "Get that off and then I'll take a look," she says, judging that Kord is probably the most injured--though it's close. "You're next," she informs Athela, giving her a no nonsese healer's look. "And then you--so you will just have to restrain yourself a little longer," she then tells Mort. Inga leans on her staff and kneels beside the delirious Kord. Unbelievable, she actually has to open a few wound in her arm in order to get the blood needed for her healing. She dips her fingers into the blood as it beads up on her inner arm and leans over to draw a rune in blood on Kord's chest. A warm, sweet sensation would sing through him, kicking his natural healing into overdrive. "Well I am glad the two of you showed up, even if you didn't know what you were doing here," she can't help but chuckle. 

:'''{{#var:954|Count Kord (954)}} has posed:'''     "Ohh, blood magic," Kord notices, slowly pushing himself to a proper sit. He puffs painfully, and shakes his head a couple times to get the sense back into it. Then he looks over toward Mortimer and closes one of his eyes, and just smiles over at him. "It was a noble cause," he tells the badger. "And I understand Pokemon gods do this to you regularly anyways. It seemed like a fun idea."     Smug just radiates off of him... but not malice. He doesn't seem to get how rude this was. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     "Their belief was strong enough to summon an image of their legendary King... but it was a corruption of the ideal they were mislead into creating."     After that Athela pants a few times, though waiting until the Primal Mog has diffused completely before she finally turns and sheaths her divine sword. "I still believe they did not mean harm initially, but wanted to protect themselves... And certain parties manipulated this to their own dark intentions."     She just... stares for a moment at Kord. And yet, isn't entirely surprised. He is the Legendary of Destruction after all. This was probably 'fun' to him. It's followed by another sigh, which makes her wince as she remembers she's been wounded in the side, not to mention that terrible metaphysical feeling from the ethereal emptiness. She looks to N'Raha. "What are the chances the Scions can find the rest of the Moogleguard before they try this again?" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe see the battle is over the King is down she hears the last Kupo as it explodes into the ether. She notes "The King is dead long live the King." She'll relax now a bit as she regains her balance, cleans her blade and puts it away. She feels this urge almost to strike a pose and gives in after a moment. A lingering influence of the Bard most likely. "Err we're going to need to help Kord out of here, won't we? Err know any good places to eat N'Raha after a fight like that I'm Hungry." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Warrior of Light grunts, as he concentrates a moment, his armor falling away in a rush of magic, to reveal his tunic underneath, with several seeping magical wounds on it, that are already closing up thanks to the Potion.     "Hnnng. We're all going to Momodi's Quicksand in Ul'dah. My treat." A glance at Mort and Kord. "Though keep yourself Roedygan sized if you can." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "Yes, people seem to either get very nervous or excited about it--not sure how I feel about either reaction honestly," she replies to his 'ouu blood magic'. Once she's got a couple of healing spells into Kord, she moves on to Athela, who gets a shimmering crimson bubble that will continue healing her over a few minutes, and some bandages from her bag if her wounds wound benefit. Mort gets the same treatment, if he'll allow it. And he will if he doesn't want to get into a fight about it. Her looks says 'fight me'. N'raha is last, only because she knows he heals well and he can take it. Finally she motions for him to sit, throws a spell at him, then examines his ear gently to make sure its in the right position before she gets to healing it. "How did this even happen," she grumbles. At the offer to go to the Quicksand, Inga shrugs. She could eat she supposes. 

:'''{{#var:454|Mortimer Balman (454)}} has posed:'''      Who does Inga think Mort is? He's not going to deny free healing, though she might find it oddly difficult to heal him. Something about his body seems.. Kinda stubborn about being patched up by an external force. Very strange. But there's some effect, at least.      The massive wolf paws at the ground, looking for the remains of its prey. It takes several moments for its hackles to go down, for its teeth to disappear back behind its mouth. Mort will swing himself up onto the beast, and motion for the others. "C'mon. No sense walking when we can ride, aye? Except you Kord, you get to fucking walk." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore accepts the bandades with a nod. "Thank you." Then turns aside for a moment so her cloak maintains modesty while she moves her armor enough to apply them to worst of her wounds in her side, where that Moogle's knives managed to get through her light armor. The magic should take care of most in time, but she doesn't want to accidentally make the wounds worse in the meantime. "A meal to celebrate victory sounds like a fine idea." 

:'''{{#var:954|Count Kord (954)}} has posed:'''     "Fair enough," Kord says, airly, and he starts for home. As for Inga's words on Blood Magic, he tells her, "To me, it's a novelty. Rarely used where I'm from. An art for spirit mediums." He takes flight, apparently able to do so even when pretty injured. He's a legendary bird-dragon, it'd be a cold day in hell when he gets grounded properly. Though he could probably be knocked down by a deftly thrown shoe right now. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks over toward the giant wolf. Well, it's less terrifying than a car, but she's not sure how she'll get up there, or hold on for that matter. "Ah...I believe I may actually just go home...well fought everyone. Come to see me if your wounds don't heal fully," she says, then reaches into her pocket for her Agartha conduit. She flashes Raha an apologetic smile before she disappears in a flash of amber light. 
}}

6324/It's Possibly a Primal

2019-01-24T22:19:07Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/01/19 |Location=Gridania, Eorzea |Synopsis=The Scions and the Elder Seedseer brief the Adventurers about the presence of a new Primal in the B..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/01/19
|Location=Gridania, Eorzea
|Synopsis=The Scions and the Elder Seedseer brief the Adventurers about the presence of a new Primal in the Black Shroud
|Cast of Characters=819, 994, 1119, 6716, 525
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The call goes out on the Offworlder channels of the Scion's linkpearls and radios. Come to Gridania, there might be work to do. Minfilia is very insistent upon this, and that she's certain that Eorzea might need the aid.     The place? Gridania, one of the three capitals of Eorzea, and the Scions... and friends of the Scions, are being ushered into the chambers of the Elder Seedseer, Kan-E-Senna. The gentle looking woman in the white robes is flanked by a set of rather tough looking spearmen in ceremonial armor. Sulking around the edge of the sculpted lily pads and pools is another young person that resembles The Elder Seedseer, only, as was mentioned, younger and haughty. What's their problem?     There's also Warrior of Light. N'raha seems a little nonplussed to be in the presence of the head of Gridania, something that's less and less of a shock for him, mingling with the Noble Folk and the heads of the Alliance. The catman stands up as everyone else is ushered in. "Hey, thanks for coming on short notice, we just got this ourselves, so..." He holds his hands out and looks to the others. "Right uh. This is Kan-E-Senna. She's the leader of Gridania, and the toughest White Mage I know. Even better than Doc Silent. So."     The young lady bows her head. "I will begin once everyone is ready." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Previously Athela had been coming to these requests for aid because it was what a knight errant does, assisting other lands in dealing with their problems. And because she considered N'Raha a friend and brother-in-arms. Those still held true of course. But after being through the Minstrel's tales and seeing what could be done with the power of the Primals in the wrong hands, she was more determined than ever to help protect this world, threats of Primals or otherwise. As she's lead in Athela nods to N'raha in greeting. Then raises one arm across her chest as she dips into a formal bow towards the Elder Seedseer. "An honor, milady. I hastened as soon as I heard there was trouble lurking." Her Vaporeon had followed in at her heels, and when Athela bows the merefox leans forward and tilts her forebody in a similar gesture. 

:'''{{#var:1119|Josuke Higashikata (1119)}} has posed:''' Eorzea isn't a place Josuke's ever been before. From his first look it was a medieval-type world, so he's wearing that Victorian-ish getup he wears when he doesn't want to cause too much of a fuss with his appearance. It's still purple, the sleeves are still worn snug to his arms, and it features a thigh-length coat, so it doesn't look too terribly different from his usual getup. He's there with the others, waiting to hear what's wrong. He volunteered to help, of course, since he's that kind of person. Also because he's hoping to hear something that will explain the world a little, too. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' Morgan has been lurking around Eorzea quite a bit recently. The whole 'crazy gods from Outside that are slowly killing the world' thing is straight up his alley. A shadow creeps out from under the trees, casually stepping out of a veil of liquid darkness that seeps out from the boughs of one of Gridania's great trees. "Hey again Raha," he says with a sleepy wave. There are bags under this young man's eyes, dark rings which hang lower than they really aught on a face like his. "Hear you narrowed some stuff down. Nice to miss you, miss White Mage," Morgan offers a respectful little nod. "So, what's this that we're goin' after today, eh?" "Looks like it's... a pretty big deal." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga has totally been here the whole time. She is absolutely not late, because a witch is never late. Inga is seated on a small stool, holding her walking stick loosely as she gazes around the area. It's lovely. Gridania is likely her favorite of the places she's seen so far. She could wander here for a good, long time. She nods to everyone as they arrive and says a few greetings to those she is familiar with before she addresses Kan-e-senna. "An honor to meet you. I am Inga Freyjasdottir," she says, then would go back to listening attentitvely. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Kan-E-Senna is just about to open her mouth to speak and greet everyone else... when a small white fluffy... critter descends from the branches of the trees that make up the sanctum, flailing and stammering. It's got a head and a rotund little body, tiny bat wings, a cute little face, and a bobbly red booper or something sprouting from it's noggin. "Please, You have to stop them!" He scoots up to Inga first, and flails. "B-But you mustn't kill them!" Athela next. "They're not /bad/ moogles, they're just... Misguided!" Morgan gets the next burst. "A gentle -- NO! A Firm thrashing perhaps but no-"     It's here that the sulky little girl with the horns skulking at the back of the room pipes up. "Calm yourself, Kuplo Kopp! Can you not see that they haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about? Be quiet!" She levers herself up. "Pray forgive this WITLESS outburst, dear friends."     Kan-E-Senna sighs a bit looking slightly helplessly at the group. "This is Kuplo Kopp, and he is the one bringing this... message to us today. And this is actually quite the unsettling development." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' At first Sprite bristles and flares her ear-fins reflexively at the abrupt intrusion.... But it quickly fades into a look of confusion from the vaporeon as the fuzzball prances around in a blubbering panic. Then scampers off to someone else with his frantic flailing. She tilts her head to the side, perplexed. "Vaaa?" Athela watchs the little furball bound again and merely hmms. "He does kind of remind me of a Clefairy, yes." At least it's not a Jigglypuff. Or heavens forbid, Mr. Mime. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' It is quite a dignified gathering. Then a stuffed animal descends from the ceiling and Inga lets out a small, involuntary squeak. ITS. ADORABLE. Want...to...hug. She presses her lips together as it speaks to her, resisting the urge to reach out and touch it's little pompom. She looks back toward Kan-E-Senna, frowning. She looks between the moogle and the Seedseer. A look of understanding dawns. "....Ah." 

:'''{{#var:1119|Josuke Higashikata (1119)}} has posed:''' Josuke's startled by the appearance of the critter, and jumps a bit. But it's so tiny -- and actually really cute -- that he doesn't attack it. He tilts his head, with a thoughtful pout, at the thing's frantic words. "...What... are you talking about...?" he mutters at the flying thing. Fortunately the sulky girl and Kan-E-Senna intervene and try to make things a little clearer. "So what's he got his antenna in a twist about?" he asks Kan-E-Senna. "Sounds serious." 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' That. Is actually kind of adorable. "Aheheheh, he's got a little head-pompom," Morgan snickers quietly and shoves his hands deep into his pockets. "Heheh, don't worry pal. I ain't gonna do worse than just... clear a few heads, if that's all it'll take. 'Course, we can't exactly just leave something like a Primal wandering around, so we might need to get a bit more forceful than that." Morgan heaves a mild shrug. "So? Wanna fill us in, little buddy?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha, for his part, takes the next bit. "So. It sounds like Good King Moggle Mog the XII has returned to Eorzea." A beat. "And that's important because we're pretty sure he's just a legend and didn't actually exist." A sidelong glance to Kan-E-Senna and the other girl.     The sullen girl gets less sullen now that she can contribute. "I'm Raya, hello! And honestly, I myself cannot properly say if Moggle Mog is a genuine figure, or mere mythology. Kuplo would have us believe he's real, though."     Kuplo doesn't seem to grasp just how close he just came to being hugged or grasped by multiple people, but waves his little arms some more, the... well, what expression he has turning somehow more serious. Seriously CUTE that's what. He looks to Morgan though. "Oh! He's not a Primal! He's the leader of the Moogles from LOOOOOONG ago, kupo!"     His little stubby arms spread wide. "He helped deliver the Moogles from the heavens, long ago! We were once the servants of the gods, kupo, and it was great! Beautiful, spacious, and an ENDLESS supply of wine! Kupo!"     A moment's reflection. That might have been the problem."     Raha takes a deep breath and sighs, sitting next to Inga. Oh great. Story time with the moogles. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' "Hhhhhuhhh," Morgan says, making a curious sound. "Servants of the gods with endless wine, you say? I like you, little guy. So this'll be /extra/ pro-bono. If this King Moggle Mog--" (Oh no even the name is adorable) "--Isn't a full on primal, then there's probably a better chance for me to be able to break whatever hold he's got over his minions." "Or, like, I guess if they're just /super drunk/ I should be able to clear that up too," Morgan scratches at his chin. "...Honestly I've... never actually tried that. We'll have to find out together if it'll work." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' There's a murmur of 'sometimes servant is just saying slave fancy' under Athela's breath. But that's not important compared to the problem being presented. "He may not be a Primal, but..." Athela considers for a moment, what she's learned of this world and knows of divinty in general, before turning to N'Raha and Kan-E-Senna. "Would it be hypothetically possible for, if the Moogles believed in their legendary leader firmly enough, that he could become manifest in a similar manner? The divine oft draw strength from the power of their believers, do they not... But their presence in turn can also corrupt that belief." 

:'''{{#var:1119|Josuke Higashikata (1119)}} has posed:''' A legend has appeared in the flesh? Josuke gives a thoughtful pout as he listens, taking in all this information. He doesn't have a lot of information about the world itself, but he does offer, "There's generally a little basis in truth for most legends. Maybe they're not exactly what people think they are, but there's usually something there. I can't say what, especially not in this case." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Kuplo Kopp, however seems to be continuing his story in the background as the Heroes discuss things with the others. Something about ropes that lead from Heaven and Good King Moggle Mog Twelfth of His Name Kupo and that sort of thing.     It's Athela's statement that gets the attention of Kan and Raya, who look at each other uneasily, and then back to the group. "We... cannot say for certain that is the case," Kan ventures. "If what you suggest is true, this wouldst be the first time... we know of... that has happened." She adjusts her grip on her staff uneasily.     Raya's a bit more forceful about it. "Aslo, who would teach the Moogles, of all the tribes, about summoning? Moggle Mog is far from a proper god, and what would the purpose even be? The Empire has been pushed back out of Eorzea."     Raha is the one to answer that. "Because the Warriors of Light don't work for the Beast Tribes. They work for the mortal races." He lets that drop in the air, as more uneasy glances cast about the room. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore shakes her head a little. "They are not human. If they have reasons it is likely not the ones we would think of ourselves. They may not even know what harm they can potentially cause with such an... unorthadox occurance." She pauses, then frowns. "And if I am wrong... that is all the more reason to figure it out, no? So the problem does not become worse. Or happen again." It's starting to feel less like a coincidence, with how much the Moogle reminds her of some eccentric Fairy types. She gets down to one knee to be closer to his level and gentle reach to pat his head. "Relax, my small fuzzy friend. You have told us what is happening... But can you tell us more about how?" 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' For what it's worth, Morgan /is/ actually listening to this story of Good King Moggle Mog. He's even brought booze to share! What a nice guy, this mysterious man of liquid darkness. Where'd he pull that bottle of vodka from anyway? Well, it /is/ kind of all they can really brew with turnips back home. He's developed a taste for it. And the Multiverse's booze is just so much better. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Athela gets another look from Kan-E. "The fact remains that if he was Summoned, Moggle Mog would affect Eorzea and Hydaelyn the same way other Primals do. Brought forth by crystals, he wouldst sustain himself on the aether of the land, and cause blight and havoc."     Kuplo interjects again, as he floats down to peer into this bottle that Morgan has brought. "The Mogglesguard is just trying to protect us all, kupo! But... I admit, since they brought Good King Moggle Mog, Twelfth of His Name -- May his boundless grace fill our hearts with love -- They've started to get a little carried away." He bobbles with the weight of the bottle. "Kupo, maybe verging on a lot, in fact..." He takes a sip...     Kan nods quietly. "We cannot discount that... whatever Good King Moggle Mog might be is in fact starting to act in the manner of all Primals."     Raha sighs. "So. Someone pushes several carts full of crystals into the hands of the Mogglesguard, and suggests that maybe their timeless leader would... fix things? Where have we heard that before?" Another dour grunt. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore nods to Kan-E. "That is what I meant, milady. They may not realize this if they--" She stops, first at Kuplo's farther explaination, then as Raha makes some more logical conclusions. This causes her to frown as she gets back to her feet. "You think the Moogleguard were misdirected into this?" She cusps a hand to her chin thoughtfully. "Both to keep the protectors of the realm busy and farther deplete the land so it can be weak and exploitable... Yes, that does sound familiar doth it not?" While the people have gone back to talking Sprite plods over and tries to rub comfortingly against the Moogle. Someone might mistake the Vaporeon for some kind of odd Carbunkle or such, being a fox-like creature with elemental powers commanded by someone else and all. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' That bottle of booze does seem to be a pretty nice (though still relatively affordable) brew. It's vodka! It's smooth on the way down. Should probably be mixed with something though. "Hm, if it's acting like a Primal, we really shouldn't discount that it's doing that whole Tempering thing like the others do," Morgan suggests, sitting cross-legged on a nearby boulder with a nice, crystal glass of clear spirits. He swirls it around and takes a light whiff. "I mean, I can see someone summoning their god out of the aether on a drunken bender. Well. 'God.' Whatever Moggle Mog is now." And from there... Who knows? Like I said, I'll try my best." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     To that, Kan-E nods quietly to both the Knight and the Raven. "We are in agreement then. The Scions, the Warrior of Light, and... associates, must needs eliminate the threat to Gridania and Eorzea. Infiltrate the Thornmarch and render this Summoned Being back to the Lifestream." A serious look to the others, and then to Raha. "I am certain that the Warrior of Light can find... several of his stoutest compatriots to handle a Primal. I am certain such things have happened in the past, have they not, Raha of the Aldgoat?"     There's a shiver down the back of the Catman as Kan-E-Senna, Elder Seedseer, Prophet of the Twelveswood, uses his Proper Name. His ears flick against his hair, his tail poofs out a bit, and the looks to Athela and Morgan. "...Sssssss-something like that, yes." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore nods. "He has, and he will." One hand goes to rest upon the hilt of her divine sword, gripping but not actually unsheathing it from her side. "You have my word Seedseer, as Champion of Keldeo and Knight of the Swords of Justice, to help protect this world as if it be our own." Which she had already been doing, true. But actually affirming it to someone of relavant position for a change makes it feel even more right in doing so. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' "Ehhhhh, I mean /I/ haven't fought a Primal myself, necessarily," Morgan admits a little sheepishly. He at least seems to be in good enough spirits about it, though! Or maybe that's just the liquid courage talking...? "I think I've got a pretty decent chance of it though. We've got pretty similar problems back home. It'll be a good test of things, at least. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Then we will make preperations." Kan-E-Senna straightens up and nods. "I'm sure that Papalymo and Urangier have some ideas of how to breach the defenses of the Thornmarch, much in the ways you made it to Titan and Ifrit." A nod to Raha. "Take heart, Warrior of Light. You are not alone in this. Gridania and the Alliance are behind you, in all steps."     Raha nods and straightens. "Thanks, Elder Seedseer. It's a gracious thought." He smiles, or tries to. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore reachs over to put her other hand reassuringly on N'Raha's shoulder. "As are we, as we have been before." 
}}

6295/On The Topic Of Monster Hunting ft. Raha and Samus

2019-01-24T22:17:55Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/01/08 |Location=Monster Hunter World |Synopsis=Samus meets Raha and Staren, decides to murder a Dragon |Cast of Characters=819, 6875, 42 |pret..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/01/08
|Location=Monster Hunter World
|Synopsis=Samus meets Raha and Staren, decides to murder a Dragon
|Cast of Characters=819, 6875, 42
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     For those of the Elites that get their blood and dander up fighting things that are several times larger than them for money, there's at least a world or two where those sorts of urges can be sated. This is one of them.     Hunting Monsters is pretty good money and also some good experience for certain adventuring types, and well. Raha likes to slack off, as it were.     The Research Commission is having a rather quiet night, actually. It's late, there's some bigger hunts out on the plains right now, and a Certain Chosen Catman is having a good look through a stack of Leves... or postings or whatever they call them here. The board is looking pretty skimpy tonight though, and N'raha is passing the time by chewing on some roast meat on a sticks and trying to ignore one of the young ladies at the Guild Desk giving him the old heart-eyes. 

:'''{{#var:6875|Samus Aran (6875)}} has posed:''' The door opens and... everyone... goes quiet. A figure wearing full-body power armor walks in, looking around through an opaque blue visor. Samus sighs softly, as she goes to the person behind the counter. With a voice that sounds vaguely masculine - it's very hard to tell what kind of person is wearing such incredible armaments, she says, "I understand that you cater to bounty hunters here? I am... new to this area... to this Multiverse... and wish to hone my skills." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh. Oh dear. This is new. Well, Newish.     The lady who had been making googly eyes in the handsome catman's direction is suddenly jarred out of her senses by 6 and a half foot tall robot man person, and scrambles a bit to look like she was paying attention. "Ah! AH! ha! Yes hello! Ah, a-aaaaare you new to the Commission's worlds?" Though it's quite clear that Robot Man is.     The young lady shifts a bit, and scrambles to hold up some paperwork and a pamphlet. It's in helpful text for a number of the major multiversal languages on 'So You Want To Hunt Monsters?' "Yyyyeeees! We here at the Research Commission st-trive to ensure that we can both protect our worlds from the threats of the wilds, but also to preserve and maintin the natural b-balance of our worlds is there someone inside of that?" The green clad girl gives Robo-man another once over.     The catman over at the bounty board shuffles a bit forward, ears perking. He brushes some crumbs off his sweater, but leaves the poor Guildmarm to her own dangling for the moment. 

:'''{{#var:6875|Samus Aran (6875)}} has posed:''' Samus Aran nods. "So you hunt and kill the large cratures that threaten the natural balance. Do you need them alive - or whole enough for meat purposes?" she asks, considering the paperwork as she takes a pen in her left hand and signs. "Just not sure what kind of damage is necessary. Oh, and to clarify, yes, I am a human wearing power armor." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The guildmarm stutters another moment or two before the catman shuffles over to the ROBOMAN and looks up at him(?). "Hey, yeah they prefer to keep things in one piece. If you blow them up, you don't get the good parts. And they like to use all the parts they can to make stuff."     He holds up a hand, after wiping it on his pants to get the meat-juice off of it. "Howdy. I'm N'raha. I'm not from here either but I do... odd jobs... all over the Multiverse."     The green clad guild marm makes some plaintive gestures at what Raha is saying, and chimes in. "Yes yes, please... keep them in as big a piece... as you can!" A glance to that cannon arm. 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren has heard of such worlds too. He isn't particularly obsessed with hunting down monsters, but he has his own reasons for occasionally checking in with places like this...     The Other Catman Besides N'Raha walks in the door, and stops to look at the armored figure for a moment, then at N'Raha. "Hey, long time no see!" To Samus, he asides, "Nice armor!" Then he continues to N'Raha, "Haven't seen you in awhile. What've you been up to?"     He glances at the bounties, but he's not looking for rewards so much as the descriptions of the monsters. Supernatural abilities worthy of study and exploitation are more valuable than mere credits!     He's also looking through them too fast; not actually reading them immediately, just getting a long enough look for his brain computer to scan the words to a file for later perusal. 

:'''{{#var:6875|Samus Aran (6875)}} has posed:''' Samus Aran glances to the other feline person who just entered. The blue visor in the helmet quickly changes to white as she looks back and forth. She glosses over N'Raha, seeing nothing of interest, but focuses on Staren. "Some interesting gear you have. But anyway..." She then sees a leve for a dragon-like creature and clenches her fist. "I'll take this one," she notes. "I have... some issues with creatures that look like this." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha shifts a bit as Staren slides in and hops up on the counter. The Guildmarm makes another plaintive noise, before lightly pushing Raha's tail away from her paperwork, blushing the whole time. "Hey, Smartypants. And not much. I had some downtime and Inga wanted me out of her cabin to do some seer stuff so I figured I'd come find some bounties. Leves. Postings. Hunt Posts." He shrugs a bit, and looks up to ROBO MAN and the funny sensation like he's being examined. "Hnnnn. Careful there. That's... hooo." He brushes off the tingly feeling, and then look at the sheet the other Hunter has taken. "Ooo. That's a Rathian. Big bastard drake. Breathes fire and will sting you with it's poison tail. Nasty piece of work. I'd have taken that but that's not the sort of thing you do on your own unless you're very talented." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     "Gear?" Staren questions. He glances down at himself, then back at Samus. "Hmm." He narrows his eyes slightly, but continues to the board. At N'Raha's explanation, he tilts his head. "You're staying with Inga? Are you, uh... dating?"     As the Rathian fire drake is discussed, his ears turn towards N'Raha and Samus, curious what this armored hunter's response will be. 

:'''{{#var:6875|Samus Aran (6875)}} has posed:''' Samus Aran just laughs softly. "Oh - sounds lke fun. A monster like that killed my parents when I was a child. I know it's not the same one - but it'd be a great... catharsis. I can take care of myself." She then signs the paperwork and gets some details of last known sighting, as Samus goes to leave the building. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "No, not dating." Raha takes another bite of his meat on a stick. "She's a friend, and she's got some rough stuff going on, so I'm keeping close." A shrug, and a swallow, before he fairly hops off the counter at the seepd with which the Hunter takes the sheet. "Hoooy, wait, hold on, you're..." And it's as Samus is heading for the door that the catman's form changes in an instant. Where once there was a comfy sweat and blue jeans, there's a full set of platemail and helmet... and an axe that's as tall as Samus. "You just... you're just heading out there?" 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren tilts his head down slightly and his ears splay when Samus relates part of her Tragic Backstory. As the Hunter walks off, he looks back to N'Raha. "I'm glad she's got someone helping her; do let her know that... I'm willing to help, if it's something I can help with."     He returns to looking through the bounties. "Is there a reason he shouldn't?" 

:'''{{#var:6875|Samus Aran (6875)}} has posed:''' Samus Aran doesn't stop as she has her goal on targeting that monster and blasting it dead. The apeture of the arm-cannon opens with a whirr and the tip of something is now visible inside as Samus is just heading out to the last known sighting. She doesn't stop for the other two - not sure they're even going to follow. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha makes it to the door to watch the bounty hunter rushing off past the town guards, a number of other very confused people... and sighs, wilting. A look back into the door, and then he relaxes, the armor melting back into magical dust. "Hnnn, I mean... Yeah, he's probably got it, just..."     He scratches at the back of his head a bit, and then back at the door.     "And Inga's okay-ish, yeah. She's got stuff going on. I'm not goign to say what cause it's personal but... I'll let her know you said that." The catman finds a chair and flops in it, wilting a little bit. "That was weird." 

:'''{{#var:42|Staren (42)}} has posed:'''     Staren nods silently at the comment that it's something personal.     That was weird. "Was it? Some guy wants to kill a dragon, so he finds out where one is and goes after it. Seems pretty normal to me. I mean, for the Multiverse." 
}}

6232/The Minstrel's Ballad: Gaius's Ambition(4)

2019-01-10T05:03:58Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/01/09 |Location=Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=The thrilling conclusion of the Minstrel's Tale of the downfall of Gaius van Baelsar. |Cast of C..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/01/09
|Location=Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=The thrilling conclusion of the Minstrel's Tale of the downfall of Gaius van Baelsar.
|Cast of Characters=6843, 819, 994, 525, 6, 1149
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Once more, you have all gathered for the tale of the Ultima Weapon, and how the bane of the Black Wolf had taken down the dreaded Gaius van Balser.  The Minstrel sits on his stool, strumming as you enter.  Tables are there, food is ready...drink is passed around.   The music starts, as he starts the final part of this Ballad.  There is a sense of finality to it, the air itself is so tense that one might think that Odin had appeared in the Shroud again.  Everything is still, as those other than you listen, enraptured by the song. 'Come my friends, gather around for a tale of a would-be crown. When our hero, protector of the realm Now must battle the Alag's strength Tempered with the strength of grace Imbued with fire's embrace Strengthed with earth's base. But also tainted with shadow's efface Light doth waiver, but will it falter?' 'Standing down full of the Ruler's Might Staring up, full of desperate plight Gambit unleashed Mother Hydelyn spent Only the strength of a hero Can keep the Realm at peace.' The light clears.   The entire area is devastated, magical energy is radiating everywhere, burning the earth like a wildfire.  Your area is protected, and then the Ultimate weapon changes.  Glowing with that same light of Ultima, it glows light green and gold, as it arches back.  Two wings of the same light as before spring from it back as it prepares itself. "Gaius, our enemy shield is broken, I leave the rest to you.." "Such devastation...I did not wish such a thing.." a stunned Gaius says taken aback, and then angry, "We shall have words later, Ascian...but for now, the question of who is stronger remain.  Come, warriors of light...let us find the answer to that together!" As the story draws you in, the battlefield around you is a blasted twisted land, the fighting had destoryed much of its natural splendor, and all around you the Empire weapons that had been brought to bear against you and the Primals now lay blackened and burning.  The Heart of Sabik having had done its terrible work with its magic seemingly otherworldly.  The power of Ultima did in fact, make the earth quiver and quake.   It glows, not just as the black ominous creature it was when you first came in, but this four-legged thing glowed with a strange light, after having gorged on the primal.  You can FEEL their power and aether trapped in there, under the domination of the monster.   In fact, as it charges it does unleash it.  Each hand sends a beam of light across the ground towards Athela and Inga, the ground tearing up as the beam threatens to cut through them.  Tomoe and Raha are forced to deal with something else.  As Ifrit appeared, immediately crouching and charging the both of them, leaving a trail of flames behind it. Krusty could see on the edge of the field of battle, that Titan had appeared, and brought it's hand up, slamming it into the ground, as the very ground attempted to shift, and UPHEAVE them into the air, before aiming to smash them back into the ground. "Tell me, Warrior of light.  Where are the Twelve now?!  WHERE ARE THEY?!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Well this is... less than optimal. And once again, NOT HOW HE REMEMBERS IT.     That said, N'raha at least knowws the response to Gaius' question. "We don't need the Twelve to stop you, Gaius. You, the Ascian, or your weapon." He snarls, lowers the visor on his helmet... and then-     Ambushed by Ifrit. How in the blazes is it here? Didn't the Weapon eat the damn thing? He barely brings up his axe in time to smash at the charging Ifrit. There's a flareover of energy though. While the shield of Hydaelyn might be broken, the soul of the Chosen is not. "No. NO THIS IS NOT HAPPENING, GAIUS." He turns in place, and CHARGES at Ultima Weapon, leaping up on one of it's legs, planting his feet and swinging for the hills with his axe. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela sighs softly as, despite the concern in his voice over the unexpected devestation caused by the weapon, Gaius still stubbornly refuses to relent and turns on them to force continuing the fight. Stubborn ambition does truely blind this man it seems. There is no other option at this point. A scowl of determination follows, cloak briefly flaring behind the young knight as she moves into action. "So be it." Even as the monstrousity begins to move Athela has already whipped herself back into motion, a wash of water rippling in her wake as she uses her aquamancy to give herself a boost. It allows her to veer to the side as the beam is fired towards her, but not out of the ray's proximity and she can still feel the sting of the energy it carries just from being so damn close to it. "Focus on the primary threat!" As she closes in Athela releases another burst of elemental energy, this time using it to launch herself off the ground towards the horrific warmachine, swinging her sword in an upward slash as she does so. "Have at ye!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Here they are, dropped right back into the story where they left off--staring down the maw of a great, mechanical creature created to destroy. This is the climax of the story. The music has come to a blinding crescendo. Before Inga can even get a hold of the situation she's being attacked. She gets a blood ward up around herself to negate some of the damage from the painful beam of light, as she does not have the reflexes to get out of the way. She stays on her feet, gritting her teeth against the pain, but her ward did it's job, and already she's beginning to heal. She looks to Gaius, shaking her head. "You know what you have created. Now you will let us clean up your mistake!" she shouts, hurling a lightning bolt at the Weapon, the light casting her features in stark light and shadow. She's had a dark day. She will not hold back. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has returned to the bar once more to hear how this tale ends, she'd avoided the booze but enjoyed some food first. She'd met up with everyone else. She waits for the bard to get started the music starts. She takes a deep breath as he gets ready. The world comes into view and now she sees the thing before her. The Ultimate weapon, the hulking mechanized horror of a long lost civilization is before them. "Very well General Gaius." She watches the very earth quiver and shakes at the things power, this thing is the embodiment of what her world's rulers and many normal people fear. Such power in the hand of one or a few that could sunder a planet. "God helps those who help themselves." Tomoe notes but it's clear she does not speak of the Twelve. She's fast but not quick enough to get out of the way entirely she's caught in some of the flames, but she still stands her wings. She flies right at the ultimate weapon breaking into a savage opening combo there is no hesitation or restraint tonight with Tomoe's attacks. "And yet General is this power your own? Or are you another's puppet being used to the ill ends of this entire world and your Empire?! Athela with me!" 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty is not here, once again waylaid by the most annoying monster of all. Paperwork.     However, having heard the glowing recommendation by her fellow officer, Misa, the other of Krusty's Lieutenants, Rieze, has come to hear the story of the Minstrel.     Thrown through the air by the sudden upheavel of earth, Rieze hits the ground hard and rolls a few times, before finally coming to a stop. She's still for a moment, then uses her long staff to pick herself up off the ground. She brushes a little dirt off her robes, which funnily enough look very much like those she normally wears.     Rieze raises her staff into the air in front of her, orange magic gathering just beyond it. As she prepares her spell, she advises caution to Athela's words, "Be wary of attacks from the side. This weapon's summons appear powerful."     The spell finishes, Rieze calming calling, "Orb of Lava." It launches towards the Ultima Weapon as an orb of burning magic that explodes against its target. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' "Is that desperation in your voice, Warrior of Light?" Gaius mocks Raha, "What happened to that all-consuming rage you had a moment ago, or did the might of the Ultima Weapon steal from you that as it stole the Primals their power?" One of the arms moves to grab at Raha as he swings at one of its legs.  The claw meets axe, in a terribly unfair conest of strength, moves so that the axe just narrowly misses the leg, as the power of the Ultima weapon starts radiating even more.   Athela, more calm and resolute lets loose a silent sigh.  She has seen ambition before, and it is true.  Gaius has ambition, and a goal...he is not an evil man, but ambition can do things to all men.  Including making pacts with metaphorical devils.   The sword is swung down, as the elemental blast takes her up.  The other arm of the powerful war machine braces, using it's thicker armor to soften the blow.  The thing is surprisingly swift for such a large machine...but it DID also eat Garuda.  Perhaps there is something to this..? "The only mistaken, Warrior, is your continued belief in gods who want nothing for you, but instead your prayers and crystals to summon them into the world," Gaius, says right back to Inga as she hurls her powerful spell.  However... The gods, in fact, seem to favor her today. The lightning bolt crashes across the chest of the undefended machine.  It's arms and defenses having had been occupied with Raha and Athela.  It appears they are making a dent in it...the machine is not as invincible as it might appear to have been. "Is a powerful blade not the power of the wielder?  Is any weapon not just in part the strength of the wielder itself?  You, a warrior, ask me such a question while standing before me?  One's who do not master strength are owned by it, I know this better than anyone.  No, I control this strength, it obeys me.  Can you say the same about the blessing of light or the power of prayer that SHE wields." The sword Tomoe swings is defended against by the claws of the Ultima weapon as if proving his point.  The weapon moves with grace and skill, much like Gaius himself did.  Despite the weapon being an ancient war machine, he had taken steps to master the weapon...and then he did beat the three primals (albeit after you had worn them down) by himself.  While the sword damages the machine, his quick actions make it far less bad than a lesser man would have. The woman named Rieze comes up from in front of the creature, only providing support to her comrades, instead of exchanging barbs with the man inside the armor.  It was good advice because indeed aether seemed to be pooling all around them.  Pouring from the device in front of them.   The spell, launching an Orb of Lava smashes against the side of the Ultima Weapon, and as the spell fades, it appears that just in the nick of time a barrier was erected to defend against the magic.  The armor of the weapon still sizzles, as it turns to face the new comer.  "I see that the Warriors of Light have reinforcement.  I commend your bravery, too bad it is wasted on them." 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' As things progressed, the machine fired a spray of missiles from it's back, these missiles spread out everywhere, before coming down and collapsing specifically on Inga and Rieze.  Explosions rock the area, but overall the attacks could be MUCH worse. However, the two now working together, Athela and Tomoe now have their own problems.  As they get close to the Ultima weapon, there is a surge around it, before it BURSTS with Ceruleum.  In a massive shockwave around it, aiming to literally catch them regardless of how they come at it.   However, from behind Raha, Garuda would appear on the edge of the battlefield and starts to cast a spell.  This is before a massive shockwave of wind drives through the battlefield, aiming to smash the warrior in the back and send him sprawling.  Garauda laughs, oddly, even though she is technically a summon of the Ultima weapon This proves that you can take the Garuda out of the world, but not the crazy out of the Garuda.  Yes, people actually WORSHIP her.  The Ixal are absolutely insane. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Warrior of Light falters in place as he's tossed from the Ultima Weapon's leg, his attack blunted by the masterful piloting of Gaius....     And tossed directly into the path of Garuda's attack. He's barely up to his feet when the strike hits though, and is forced to turn into the strike to even bear a chance of blunting it. He staggers and snarls, as the wind whips through him, feathers and razors cutting at him, at his flesh, burning through his armor in that ephemeral fashion of magic, and...     Oh. Oh dear. There's a flashover of energy on the field, another RATTLE of noise as the catman slams a fist into the caked, baked soil of the Castrum. An explosion of noise, of furious rage, of distant terrible wrath. "GAIUS. You MOCK the very powers you weild, drive a piece of blasphemous Allagan trash, and speak to me of failed power?" His stance shifts, dirt kicks up from his heels, his eyes narrow behind his helmet, and he dashes forward.     Dash is actually the wrong word. Explode. Explode is good. There's a massive shockwave of energy as the Miqo'te expends a measure of his wrath, and LEAPS at the Ultima Weapon, clearing the battlefield in an arcing jump. It's a move he's used before but it's never looked quite so stiking. Bravura sweeps, and aims to come crashing down right on that cockpit. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sighs heavily. "I am done talking about gods with you. You have created this creature to destroy. You stand against those I call friend. That is all I need," she replies, her knife in one hand and her staff in the other. As the Weapon once more prepares to launch something at her, she renews the wound in her arm she uses for her blood magic and throws up a renewed ward. It is merely a sea wall however--the waves crash over it, the ward only working to prevent the full force of the damage. Again, she stays on her feet, planting her staff to help her keep her balance. While she's giving out wards...she sees Raha take a nasty hit. The familiar healing of her blood magic soon surrounds him. Inga then turns her attention back to the Weapon. She waits for the right moment, careful of those in melee with the beast. She breathes a word that is all cold and darkness, her breath misting in the air as it escapes her lips. "Iss." Ice rushes up around Ultima Weapon in a flash freeze. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Rieze maintains her cool composure at the words from Gaius. She doesn't seem to permit him a response though, as her eyes look up to track the barrage of missiles coming to rain down upon her. She quickly raises her her staff above her head and spins it, magic quickly forming a barrier of light as she announces, "Force Shield." She's engulfed in explosions of missiles.     After the fire and smoke fades, Rieze is still standing there confidently, though he robes are showing some scorch marks and she appears to have some burns. However, she reaches into them and pulls out a small magenta-coloured potion and takes a careful drink from it. Light briefly shines around her as some of her burns fade away.     After the potion, Rieze returns her attention to the fight. She raises her staff, magic sparks beginning to dance across it. She times the spell to activate shortly after N'Raha's strike, saying, "Thunderbolt Crash." The bolt of golden lightning streaks down from above the Ultima Weapon, aimed for the cockpit that the Miqo'te strikes. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Someone else will have to handle the heroic arguing with Gaius if they want it, Athela just isn't the sort to waste the breath in middle of a terse battle. Especially when she's pretty sure it would fall upon deaf ears. Or at least ones unwilling to hear more reason than what they have already convinced themselves up. As soon as she rebounds off the arm's interveining defense Athela hits the ground in a three-point crouch, the other hand still gripping her weapon. But it is more than to just brace her impact. As soon as her free hand hits the ground streams of water swirl out from the point of contact and quickly rise around her until she's in the center of a watery tornado. It's against the vortex that the venting of ceruleum collides, the magitek chemical(?) vaporizing much of the watery counter. Sheer proximity ensures it's not a perfect defense as Athela is still exposed to the intense energy released by the two sources countering each other, but after seeing what it did to others in previous fights she wasn't taking her chances with direct contact. As the remains of the attack and defense splatter to the ground around her Athela breaks back into motion, having no intent to let Gaius have a moment's rest between attacks. Their only chance is to not let the man have the time to solidfy any manner of counter-strategy, so hitting fast and hard is the way to go. Again she draws on both the fighting spirit of her patrons and her own aquamantic abilities, Resolute Blade becoming sheathed in the energy of her element as she gripped it in both hands and readied back as she charged. This time not in a single stike, but as Athela launchs into her assault its a frenzy of chops and slashes that might at first appear to be an erratic barrage of blows. Until one realizes that while they may come from different angles the swipes all at least cross the same point to maximize potential, the crosscutting method is just to make the epicenter of the attack less obvious to defend against. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has come on stronger than he normally does as she knows how serious this fight is, and it could be a taste of what awaits those who dare to probe further in the world from with N'raha hails from. Gaius is shown to be why he was such a feared combatant the Garlean General was a monster in personal combat and could still effect things here in a fight like this. She has called Athela to her side to keep up the assault with Reize, Inga and N'Raha forming the other portion of this party they have a decent working split. The Winds come and Tomoe is hammered by the force of them red linea appear all over her body already. "Damn..." Missiles are being fired at the rest of the party an exploding worse N'raha has been hit very hard and she will leap back chanting a spell as she does cause a barrage of light bolts to take flight t the ultimate weapon. She'll keep to the air again too as she makes ready for another attack run on the Weapon. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' "Hmph...apparently your wrath has left you deaf," Gaius says in response to Raha.  "You, without the will to rule do not understand what it means to wield power, all you can think of is the strength of your own arm, instead of how to manage and focus it.  Strength is not just force of will, but of personality, of leadership, of knowledge and of wisdom!" However, for all of his words, the flying buzzsaw that is Raha dives for the Cockpit.  The armor, thick by necessity as he'd be clawing through the FRONT of the machine, withstands.  However, the massive blow shakes the massive monster, as a nasty gash runs along the front of it.   "Hmph, then prove your words with action, and not bantering, cultist!  Know, when your broken body is thrown to the ground, you will cry to your gods...and they will /forsake/ you," He responds to Inga, with a dismissive tone. As the ice starts to run up and attempt to flash freeze the Ultima weapon, the thing moves back and forth, before another BURST of ceruleum is vented, starting to quickly counteract the ice.  It's a vicious back and forth, but even as her blood magic tries to overcome the technology of Alag...it appears for now that Alag triumphs, as the machine continues to move.   "I see you are a woman of few words and action.  Then let us simply fight until you have been shown the error of your ways!" the man says towards Rieze, even as her force shield absorbs the majority of the Ultima's blow.   However, lightning is hard to defend against, as lightning from the sky rains down on the machine.  It blasts through the defenses as it shakes for a moment...but then corrects itself.  Shuddering, but not falling.  The smoke from where it landed is visible, but it is not destroyed. However, when Athela's three-point stunt dodge attracts the attention of Gaius again, he muses to himself.  "You claim to be blessed by the gods, and yet you wield your power better than many who claim to fight for their own power.  You do not hold your own abilities in as high regard as you should...a pity." This time, as she comes up to swing, trying to keep her actions from having meaning, trying to put the man off guard...well, it appears that once more he proves himself cannier than anticipated.  The Weapon moves, using its quick speed and armor to parry blows, and its claws use the armored outer area to quickly break the attack.   "I see, you HAVE no answer.  What are you then?  A warrior or a cur!?  Have you no pride as a warrior, or are you as hollow as your words?!  Hmph, disgraceful." Gaius says towards the unanswered questions in response to her own original bait. The bolts of light hit the barrier that is summoned again, greatly reducing their effectiveness and seem to leave otherwise unrewarding damage.  The man in the armor says nothing, but the eyes of the beast just cast down at it...almost as if it was judging you. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The machine rears back, as heat expands from each of the sides of the Ultima weapon, each of these vents are aimed at both Raha and Athela, literally trying to blow them away from the creature with the pure heat and force of releasing the internal temperature.  The creature, built as it was, was designed to even make it's temperature regulators a weapon.  Such was the terrible mind of Alag. Unfortunately for Reize and Tomoe, Garuda would appear, as if by magic hovering near them.  with a screech, she seemed to fly up with unmeasurable speed, before feathers, countless in numbers, rained down like knives at them, attempting to impale them and leave an aetherical effect behind: Wind Burn.   However, in front of Inga, Ifrit would appear, as it reared back, and the ground below her would shake.  The ground itself seemingly starting to look like it was to come alive before EXPLOSIONS would follow her running form.  Trying to catch her and roast her alive with fire and lava.  Apparently, Gaius is not without humor...or at least insensitive to all of the witches over the years falsely accused and burned at the stake.   However, more importantly...the Ultima weapon was starting to store now VISIBLE qualities of Aether, glowing more and more white with each passing moment.  Those with Hint can almost see a gauge in their mind's eye.  The name on it was literally 'Ultima Aether.'  You...do not what to find out what happens when it hits one hundred, but Inga may see... Death.  That is it, darkness.  If it finishes, there is nothing beyond that point.  The feeling of being dragged towards death may be even more unsettling. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman lands with a thud, the murderous energy still slaking off of his body like a cloak. Raha's all the way now.     Heat. Heat he can handle. Heat's a good thing, it refreshes the mind and body. That said, that's a lot of heat for Raha. He does, however, scamper out of the way quick enough to keep his tail from getting burned and singed, and instead rallies around to slide underneath the WEAPON. It's a blind spot, it's a safe spot, and it's a spot that the catman can both take a breath, as well as harass the machine. Maybe poke at something important.     He looks to the rest of the field, and to Inga and Rieze especially. Gotta keep the big guy off of them.     There's a roar of anger from under the Ultima Weapon, and Raha lashes out, his axe kicking up a wave of angry energy, looking to harass and disrupt. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Has she not been proving her words? By Bragi this man likes the sound of his own voice. Cultist, why does he call her this? All thoughts are cut short when Ifrit appears before her, trying to burn her alive. Inga does not run. Inga /can't/ run. She lurches away from the blasts, but its her wards that help her the most. That is why she is so proficient with them. It was that, or death after death...you learn to stand and fight when you have no choice. Inga is burned and bleeding, but still continues. Her regeneration keeps her going through more than she could ever have imagined before Gaia. It still hurts. But it is nothing compared to what she's already been through. Inga raises her staff, the runes along it's length glowing with white-hot light. Ifrit is merely a distraction and she knows it. Gaius and his Weapon are the focus. That thing is preparing to take one of them, at the least, out of the world in mere seconds. She watches, waits, then releases a powerful blast of fire and force akin to an explosion. Why not try all the elements, right? 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' As the war machine moves quickly to parry her flurry of strikes with inhuman position Athela realizes the tactical error she made. The Ultima Weapon was large and armored, so she had approached the fight the same as she had against the Steel Golem, which was powerful but ponderous. Though now the monstrousity has proven itself to be quick as well. She needs to tackle this threat in a different manner. The final deflection is with enough force to skid her backwards and leave her heaving a moment from the effort. Yet with no less determination in her eyes as she looks towards the thing's.. general vicinity that Gaius had gotten into it. "I have no breath to waste on your attempts of dellusion and diatribe." Resolute may be the name of her weapon, but her fighting spirit is no less wavering. Heels dig into the ground, bracing herself as she grips her divine blade, toughing it through the ceruleum being vented again. It matters not how much or little is said, she refuses to back down. She sweeps low with her sword, to were it cuts a few sparks from the tip graizing the ground, and then upward in front of herself. That is not the attack though. The real danger is the aquaphilic energy released as she does so, quickly swelling up into a wave of water as it surges across the ground and then comes crashing down towards the magitek monstrousity. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' This bird demon thing may Haunt Tomoe for a very long time as it certainly likes poking at her, there's not much she can do about it or at least how she sees it. Tomoe maybe have missed something in the chaos of the battle or Gaius has hit a point it's hard to tell but he gets a reply. She's also getting hammered by Garuda again which leaves her covered in more injuries even with her parrying some of the attacks using her shield. "Pride in a warrior? My pride is in every soul that got the hell out of the Death Game. A lethal dream that souls seeking a night of sentiment were trapped within." Pride? Maybe she was empty in the end? Did she really have any? Or was just going forward as she had no idea how to stop after she got out of the Death Game. "Maybe I am just a clay doll but I have never rolled over and died for anyone General. That's one thing I do have pride in I will not Yield to you just like I did not to Heathcliff and his mad dream." She now has out Caliburn now and it glows with a holy fire as she readies another sword art, which she will let loose when she gets in close making for the head of the Ultimate weapon trying to screw it up and go for hopefully some of it's sensing systems if she's lucky. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     "Words unfocus you. Distract you. Kill you."     Rieze doesn't have time to provide an active defense against Garuda's new attack. Maybe because she was talking? Who knows! The bird lady's feathers carve through the air, cutting through the Sorerer's robes and skin beneath, leaving being lines of red. She avoids getting full on impaled by any of the projectiles, but she can now feel herself affected by the painful malady of Wind Burn. An icon pops up in her view to confirm it.     Reaching into her robes, Rieze once more produces another potion. Though this one has a pink colour to it. She takes a sip from this one, a light washing down then up her body as the persistant effect is countered.     Hoping to work in concert with Inga, Rieze begins to spin her staff in front of her. A whirlwind begins to form just beyond it. After it has built enough strength, Rieze calls, "Turbulence." The magic gushes further as a powerful gust of wind in its own right. But aimed to combine with the blast of fire, it should hopefully feed it and result in a much greater explosion. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The collision of Axe and claw ring across the battlefield again.  At this point, there was little to say between Gaius and Raha that hadn't already been said.  They were simply opposites...and right now they were fighting for the right of who ruled, and who died.  On this field of battle, their fate would be decided. Of course, the axe dug in, but the armor was just a bit too thick on the arms.  Not for want of trying, but his attention became focused on Raha, at least for the moment. Which means, for the moment, any attack that he would receive is increased by one level, but the attacks on his protected allies will drop by a level each.   Probably because, Inga, you worship a god.  Someone raised to despise any religions and be a secular state preeeeety much would see anyone else worshiping anything else as someone who is a cultist.  However, there are worse things to deal with, like...uh...being set on fire.   The fire washes over the Ultima weapon, forced to bring its arm and use its shield to protect itself.  Red hot from where the flames hit it and even it's massive form was pushed back by the force of the spell.  Shaking, the ground crumbles around it as the shockwave clears it.   "Hmph, delusion is it?  Though I will acknowledge the other.  You are one of the only people on this field of battle even willing to actually consider the points.  However, you are right...banter can wait after I have seized the day.  If you still live after, then we shall talk on this matter in full.  So, do not die...but I will hold nothing back!" The wave of dangerous water, after using the sword dance as a cover, smashes into the chest of the Ultima weapon, forcing it back much like the fireball before it.  There is a satisfied grunt from inside the machine, as Gaius is always impressed with the power.  However, too soon the water evaporates.   "How glib.  Your pride is meaningless, it is not even in the accomplishment itself.  You claim to be a clay doll, and claim to have never rolled over...then why do you even fight?  For the failing and corrupt city-states?  For some nebulous goal of 'keeping them free'.  From what?  A consul who undermines the authority of its rightful sovereign?  A group of pirates who can barely hold the rule of law?  Of a group of children who give their will to the capricious elementals?  To the endless and eternal Dragonsong war?!  Tch...to believe in this land...is to believe in nothing." Tomoe goes for the thing's 'head', where it's sensors are.  The two collide with their power, as the claw of the Ultima weapon drag's itself across the blade aiming for its eyes.  The two clash for a moment, before the blade is thrown just enough off, so that it slashes across its head, but not hitting anything quite that important.  However, Tomoe's attempt to get its attention to succeed, and much like for Raha, Tomoe will take a higher potency attack, for lowering it on Athela. "Hah!  Perhaps there is truth in those words of yours.  At least grant me the knowledge of your name.  I am Gaius van Baelsar, soon to be ruler of this failing land." He says, asking for Rieze's name in return.  The man, for all of his faults, at least tries to be formal. The wind feeds into the fire, making the explosion bigger, and of course causing more armor to melt under their combined offensives.  However, much like before, while the weapon is thrown back from the offense, it still stands, still wields impressive strength...and the power residing in it is being fed again. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The Ultima Weapon teleports away suddenly, appearing in the far back of the arena...and something happens.  The very arena changes dramatically.  The destroyed battlefield seems to fade away, as Aether itself flows wildly in the background.  The vision of the world around you fades, as it is just a single platform hovered in nothingness.  Worse than that, pieces of the machines, corpses of the beast men, and earth float around the edge of the battlefield eerily.   Each of the Primals appear in different sections of the battlefield.  Garuda, in the center, Titan on the left, and Ifrit on the right.  Ifirt charges first, aiming to sear the battlefield with his charge, as fire explodes repeatedly in his wake.  Titan smashes his hands together, attempting to literally use the WEIGHT OF THE LAND to crush all of you, as the earth laden aether strikes out at you.   Then finally, Garuda laughs madly...as before the end comes, she unleashes a terrible storm around her, the very air becoming hard to breathe, the wind tearing at your faces, and almost trying to throw you from the platform.  Hold on, Warriors of Light!   You can do it! When it all ends, the Ultima weapon is back to normal, charging at you again.   

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Talking. Why is he talking SO MUCH. SO MUCH TALKING. ALL HE DOES IS TALK.     Oh. Oh dear. There's an... awful color rippling off of N'raha now, as the Warrior of Light takes another swipe at Ultima before... it scampers away.     And the catman, standing in front of all his allies, toe to toe with Tomoe, simply digs his heels in.     Fire burns his body, crisping his fur and scalding his skin.     Earth pummels him, crushing bones and sundering his armor.     Winds RAKE at him, raising cuts and wounds across his body.     And then the storm's rage passes, and the cat man is... right there. RIGHT THERE, standing tall. Standing like a stone in the broiling seas, a chain in his hand, READY for the WEAPON to return.     And he can feel the energy broiling away inside himself, inside his allies, as the Aether rolls across the battlefield. He's barely standing held up only by force of will, but.     That chain whips out from his hand, and he lashes it around the nearest leg of the Ultima Weapon, dragging it into place, and HOLDING it. Yes, one lone catman, securing the Supreme Weapon of Allag. Or he's going to try to anyways.     His mouth bleeds when he opens in, but there's a flat noise of rage and terrible anguish from the Warrior of Light, as he spends his last bit of energy to save his friends. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is blasted in so many ways from so many directions that life just becomes chaos and pain. It's all loud noise and bright lights and wind that tosses her around like a leaf in a storm. When it ends she is laying on her side on the hard floor, unmoving. Then she gasps a breath, her eyes snapping open. It was a close call, but she's still here, pulled back from death by the stubborn magic of the Bees. Inga looks around to see who else still survives, and find everyone looking the worse for wear--but none more so than Raha. She directs some of her blood toward him, whispering words of healing. He thinks he's done. She watches him, and she knows it. This is a sacrifice. "Don't you dare die, Raha," she says, struggling to her feet. She's angry now. It rolls off of her in waves. Her eyes glow with the anima she's gathering. "YOU WILL NOT KILL HIM!" she screams, and a storm of her own is unleashed. Lightning rains down, hammering at Ultima Weapon in an unrelenting barrage. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Rieze is a fairly formal young woman herself. And it shows as she induldges Gaius's request, even going so far as to curtsy with her free hand as she introduces herself, "Rieze. Second officer of the combat guild, D.D.D." Hopefully she didn't just kill herself with that brief interuption.     The three primals gang up on the group. Rieze is engulfed in fire, smashed by earth and blasted by wind. By the end of it she's looking rather battered, though manages to maintain her cool composure despite the pain she's feeling.     Athela seems to be preparing a major strike and N'Raha is attempting to help. But looking at her own status, Rieze isn't ready. She needs more time...     Rieze lowers her staff in the direction of the Ultima Weapon, sparks once more jumping across the weapon, but this time blue in colour. Rieze moves her hand close to the staff's head, before invoking, "Arc Spell." Blue lightning begins to arc from the staff, repeatedly striking in the Ultima Weapon's direction and adding to Inga's own lightning magic as Rieze continues to channel the spell. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela has nothing else to say on that matter beyond what she already did. If Gaius has to constantly try to spite at them to reassure his own feeling of power, let him waste his breath on it. By this point she's almost certain he's doing it as much to convince himself of his own posturing. That however does not lessen the clear and very real danger his engine of war presents. Especially when the images of the three Primals rematerialze and unleash a savage assault upon them all. Tomoe has supporting her the entire fight, and now N'Raha as well takes the front in defiance of the man's assault. While Inga and Rieze continue their own support. She could not ask for more valiant allies to be facing such a tremendous foe with. She buckles down as well to weather out the assault. Flames roar and burn as the earth itself thrashes in rage, winds whipping violently through her red mane of hair and weathered cloak flapping behind her. For a moment she digs her sword into the ground, using it to keep herself from being knocked off her feet as she's battered by the elemental barrage. Pain stings but her courage holds stronger. The turmoil of the assault finally dies down, and Raha makes the first move to try and put their foe off balance. She pulls Resolute Blade from the ground and as she resumes her grip the divine sword starts to glow brightly, and she leaps into action with a powerful burst of aquamancy to launch her. The Swords of Justice never back down, and neither does their Champion. Like out of a catapult she hurtles arcing through the air, enervated by courage and determination, to bring her blessed blade crushing down upon the formidable warmachine with all her valiant fighting spirit! 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has endured a lot in her life, and honestly, she's been dead technically once, if not for Kliens being a pack rat and hanging on to a certain item? Her life would have ended on floor Seventy-Five against the Skull Reaper. Gaius has some very legitimate comebacks to Tomoe, unlike the last wordy sorts she fought. He was at least serving something that was not an aberration to life itself. "I'm pretty screwed up and ...." She does not say a thing as the attacks come Tomoe body glows with a golden light she chants a spell and keeps her gear ready as the ultimate weapon counter attack. The storm comes and Tomoe's form is leigtly glowing she endure the storm with superhuman levels of endurance while she's battered by the sort of damage that could drop an Elite out right she keeps going and comes out the other side, she's clearly in pain but she's still standing and her her weapon in hand. "Maybe so but do you not see me standing here before you General? I'm not done yet and I am Tomoe the Iron Lily." She channels the sword as she knows the blade is glowing she's got a plan and then she launches. "Holy Annihilation!" She will dive bomb at the ultimate weapon with the burning holy blade intending to Cleave all the way down the form of the Ultima Weapon. She is not holding back anything today. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' As things come to their...conclusion, all of the stops are withdrawn.  Raha, having given it all to defend his allies from a much more fierce attack comes out of the hell that is the elements, eyes blazing.  He would not be so easily stopped...he would not be conquered.   The chain shoots out towards the machine, wrapping around it and holding it still. Struggling, from such a simple maneuver, the machine bursts again, trying to throw it off as Gaius is dumbfounded.  "How?!" followed with, "I seem to have underestimated your determination, Warrior of Light...but NO LONGER!" "You have no power to command anything, witch!" Gaius booms at her, as the massive and now nearly overflowing with aether machine vibrates with power.  "Beg your gods, then, if they can to save you...but here, with the strength of men, nothing can or will save you!  Now fall!" The storm of power flows at the Ultima weapon, bracing against it, the power of it was enough to force it back.  "Ugh...to be pressed like this, you decry the strength of men and look at you all.." However, he comes out of the other side, armor damaged, body sparking, but the Ultima weapon not defeated.   "Very well, I wish our meeting was under better circumstances," Gaius says to her, but to be fair.  He enjoys this as much as the next man with nearly ultimate power.  The two square off with each other, but there is one thing he is impressed with.  The impeccable manners, even on the battlefield, she shows.   The lighting crashes against the machine again, arcing from its form.  Tracing across its figures and even across its damaged parts.  Still, the thing stands, in defiance of everything else.  Staring down at you with its baleful light. The two had expended all of the words they could at each other, they had shouted, debated, fought with vicious reprisals...at this point.  There is nothing left.  They all have nothing left to give, nothing left to talk about at this moment.  It was victory, or death...for either of them.   The Sword skills of Athela were amazing, but to discount Gaius is also folly.  He put everything into the machine, including a series of defensive abilities.  Shields, elemental dampeners, ablative armor and more.  It all is used against the last of the most dangerous attacks being leveled at him.  The blade finds where it needs to land, only for the LAST DITCH defense to spring up.  The blade sent just barely off course, but still cutting through critical equipment, causing a nice blast off of its right side.  The arena behind it is covered in the sword's swing, if anything was there, it would be cut in half.   "What good is standing before me...if you have no will to back it up.  You simply sound like you are looking for a place to die!  Have you finally come to admit your nihilistic nature?  Or do you think simply 'standing' before me means anything if you know you will die?  Or if your actions have no meaning?  Or if simply your pride amounts to /nothing/?!" Still, that was real strength behind the blade.  The only power channeling it.  However, like before the final defenses were up, trying to stave off defeat for what would come next.  To her credit, the attack tore through the last few remaining defenses. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' However, it remained standing.  The moment in Inga's vision came to be.  Rearing back, the heart of Sabik glowed menacingly again, as symbols in the floor glowed in arcane patterns.  Their meaning almost lost to history, but in five circles around a center sixth circle appeared...one for each of you. Without warning, Tomoe would be dragged towards the first orb.  Once there, slowly, it would rise into the sky, as Energy started to crush down at her.  The sphere in the middle glowed with a red light, as the very life energy of its sacrifice would be used to hurt everyone else.   This was the end...it would continue until each of you suffered this fate...unless you killed it first. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     This was it. This is the end. Death comes for them all.     Rieze smiles just a little. Seeing the charging meter on the edge of her vision. Robust Battery has reached its critical point. Rieze takes in a deep breath...     "Super Maximize!" A golden aura of energy completely covers Rieze, her hair rising to float in the air as she boosts her damage output. But she doesn't finish there.     "Enhanced Code! Cyan flames burst from a circle at Rieze's feet, joining the existing aura as she further enhances her magic.     Rieze raises her staff high into the sky, obsidian energy beginning to gather into a large sphere above her. The vortex of magic quickly grows in size as Rieze struggles to channel it, the strain showing on her face.     Finally she reaches the end of the casting time, the spell ready. Rieze's eyes stare cooly towards the cockpit of the Ultima Weapon, before she simply states, "Disintegrate."     There is no massive burst of power streaking across the battlefield. No roaring rush of energy. The gathered magic compresses into a tight beams, silently lancing towards the Ultima Weapon's center mass. As it hits, it doesn't explode, or pierce through. Instead the energy begins to coat the weapon's frame, spreading further and further from the impact point, trying to tear the machine apart as it does so. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The energy cannons are prepped, the Ultima Weapon is doing it's last stand and Raha is... still on his feet. The Miqo'te staggers up to his feet, only to be rocked by the backwash of that towering plasma cannon, his grip faltering on his axe... But then more. More attacks come blistering past him, this time from Rieze...     Was that it? Did they pull it off? Could it be? 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The moment from her vision begins...but fate is not fixed. There were many possibilities, and Tomoe escapes that particular fate. But Gaius will not escape his. It all seems to happen in slow motion now, as the others lay into the Ultima weapon with all they've got. Inga limps toward N'Raha. It's almost over. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has drawn a heck of a lot of fury here, but that is her job to take hits for other to endure pain so others do not have to. Every time she loses part of a party she's working with she will blame herself, part of herself withers. She is not unstoppable she knows this well she's tasted the dirt more times than she could count. Yet every single time she got back up. This is one of those times she keeps standing and she pops every defence ability she has, all of them slamming her shield into the ground two prongs flip out holding it in place. She's a bulwark for a brief moment she is the indomitable Unbroken Knight. "General, you are formidable and had we met differently...it could have been different." The act of fighting off that attack has weakened her and she's hanging on now, running on fumes and she knows it. The moment of being that seemingly impossible knight has passed, but she has some fight left in her she chants again runes dancing about her body letting loose a blast of fire at the Ulitmate weapon, it may not be needed but against something like that she fears it getting back up. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Disregard? Quite the opposite. After what they had already seen with this machine's defenses Athela knew she could not hold anything else back. So she didn't. The defenses may dull and deflect her blows, but it meant there was less to stand in the way of the others fighting alongside her. And eventually, while the attack is held back, Resolute Blade still finds some purchase in the machine's metal form, cutting deep into it's construction before she finally is forced back from the assault. She takes a few hops back after that, knowing being in the close proximity of the Ultima Weapon has also proven to not be stragetic. At the constant spewing of words from the man in control of it she just shakes her head. "Perhaps if you didn't immeadiately disregard every view that is not your own as wrong, you would understand why we continue to fight your twisted creation. But there is no success in trying to make a blind man see when he wishes not to." Still a woman of few words, at least compared to thers present. Few but to the point. With nothing else to say she digs in, weapon still at the ready in spite of exhaustion, and readies to continue. The aetheric force rattles against her, forcing her expression to grit into another scowl, feeling it dig into her tired form. She goes to one knee with a growl, but braces herself and continues to refuse to give in so easily. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The beam of PURE HATEFUL ENERGY hits the center of mass of the Ultima Weapon, sparking across the heart of Sabik, the crystal that held it together was starting to shatter.  The entire thing shakes like a load bearing boss.  The crystal continues to shatter as the thing looks like all of the stored aetheric energy is about to be released at once.   "NO!  How are you doing this!?" Gaius says as the Ultima weapon starts to shake apart.  The back of the machine opens, as the Golden Garlean is forced from it as it continued to shake dangerous... "And so...my conquest ends, Cid.  In smoke...and ashes." There was little left to say at this point, he could not escape the explosion, little more than you could.  There is a massive explosion that easily covers the entire platform.  The light of Ultima's explosion was brighter than any other.  For a moment it was like being swallowed by the sun.  However... When it clears, you remain.  Battered but not broken, hale, but probably not quite whole.  There is no music that plays, of course...no victory fanfare that happens...and there is no sign of the body of Gaius.  Nothing but the tattered remains of the red overcoat, and bits of blood.   No that's a lie, there is.  There is a victory song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nMNRPmX5Eng&t=4s.  Don't forget to make your poses. However, as the view of the battle can almost be seen by overhead...the view of the story comes to an end.  You will find yourselves once more back in your seats.  Perhaps it was all a daydream, but like before...oh so vivid.  The Bard, finally done, takes a stand, and bows, to a clapping audience. They ask for more, they cry out for it, but he holds a hand out gently and speaks, "Ah...but all stories must come to an end.  This tale has concluded...but I do not think the story of the Warriors of Light has quite reached its end." he says, with a knowing smile.   "Good night, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you for your ears," and without another word, the bard slowly takes his leave.   Achievement get: Ultimatum. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Rieze can't help but feel a little sorry for Gaius as the Ultima Weapon errupts into a brilliant light.     Rieze lowers her arm after shielding her eyes from bright explosion. Seeing the Ultima Weapon gone, and Gaius along with it, she lets out the breath she had been holding. Satisfied with a well fought battle, Rieze casually flips some of her hair.     Rieze nods along approvingly as the Minstrel finishes the final ballad. Very entertaining, as evidenced by the small smile she's wearing on her face. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga finds herself clapping, and is surprised to find tears in her eyes. She frowns slightly, shaking her head. She just closes her eyes as she works at getting her mind back into the here and now. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' ... But in the end there is no more needing to fight. Athela pushes herself back to her feet, Resolute Blade gleaming as she shifts her other arm to make her cloak flutter out. It looks a little flashy, even if it's just so she can sheath the sword so it's unusual shape doesn't snag on the cloth. That counts as a Victory Pose, right? And she's clapping along with the rest of the crowd as the entire story is brought to the end. It may be embellish as Raha claims, but that doesn't make it any less fantastic of an experience. And a bit better understanding of why this world is in the current state of affair it is, embellished or not. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha just... slumps forward on his chair, nearly spilling his beer as he's released from the trance. His ears wilt, his body aches, his mind is fuzzy from more than just the booze...     But he's alive. And he's upright. There's a click of his teeth, and he grumbles a bit, tail lashing tiredly. "So much of that... wrong, but..."     "It's hard to argue with the man telling the story while he's telling it." 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe stand back as the Ultima weapon goes up, she she feels a pang of sympathy for Gaius, hge belived in his path he was opf the mind of many here the Primas had to be stopepd but it was how. Tomoe knew about the City States but the people there needed to in the end sort themselves out for the most part she will pause in these thoughts as the soing plays? She feels an urge to strike a pose which she gives into and make one hell of a pose, she jumps rather excitedly for a moment she's clealrly happy about this turn of affairs. "Fairwell Bard." She looks to the others for a moment and takes a deep breath. "He could do far worse things with his talents...that man is one hell of a Bard." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga shakes her head. Those stories take a lot out of Raha. Inga has tacos, this time. They're hot and everything. She just pulls out one for each of them from her bag and passes them out. "Let him embellish if he wishes. You know how it happened...and the end was the same." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Inga is correct." Athela reachs over to give Raha's shoulder a pat. "After all, it was a *story*, not a historical report. What is important is he spreads the word of what others have fought for, embellished or not." Then she accepts one of the offered tacos. "Once again, thank you for your post action provisions milady." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha's taco has already vanished, somehow. He's a hungry, tired, grouchy cat now.     "Bluh. Thanks Inga. You're a life-saver, like usual." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga smiles softly and nods to them. You are welcome. Group mom, in action. 
}}

5016/FATE: A Hells-Damned Arms Race

2019-01-03T06:02:01Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/01/14 |Location=The Deserts of Thanalan |Synopsis=The Warrior of Light and the Watch are ambushed by the Amal'ja, which is rather bad luck for..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/01/14
|Location=The Deserts of Thanalan
|Synopsis=The Warrior of Light and the Watch are ambushed by the Amal'ja, which is rather bad luck for the Beastmen, actually.
|Cast of Characters=819, 481, 994, 525, 750, 774, 1081
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     An Echo Of What Has Been     A group of merchants, hauling a full carriage of supplies, lie broken and bleeding in the desert, far from help, far from Little Ala Mhigo, far from the Flames or the Blades or anything. A group of Amalj'aa, however, have not killed them. No. Not only is the cargo they carry valuable, so are they, personally. More bodies.     One of the dark skinned lizard men stomps over towards a pair of spearcarriers, and barks an order. Another one nods and points into the cart, where under a large tarp lies a full load of fire crystals. There's nodding from the officer, who waves an arm, and then the cargo and the prisoners are carted off into a box canyon, to what ends unknown, but guessable.     The Here And Now     N'raha waves off the vision and scowls a bit, as he rides shotgun on a very similar cart, a very similar route, but with a very different cadre. Out of the entire group of this... ambush? Sting? Whatever the Flames wanted to call it, he was the one that likely felt most at home. Even if he had turned into a Pirate Catte, his home was still the desert sands, and the Miqo'te revelled in the warmth and heat. A glance behind him at the people 'guarding' the caravan, and the 'cargo'. "You folks alright back there?" It was a very warm day in Thanalan, and there was no telling if the Amalj'aa would even take the bait again. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika's glamor has been working to disguise her as an Au Ra, her foxy features replaced by a tail, horn, scales, and other bits that would make her a dead ringer for Yari Takane. The disguised kitsune is currently posing as a bodyguard, a conical straw hat hiding her face as she sits on the cart. A spear is in her hands, and she's looking appropriately stoic. "I am managing." She says simply. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' For Athela 'desert' was an entirely new experience. They had nothing similar to this environment in Bayern. The crags around the mountain foothills were dry but rocky, not this arid heat that resulted in little natural moisture. It was a mildly uncomfortable experience she would endure though, as she had already set her mind to assisting the Cattain in his world's endeavours and this was not going to be something to sway her away from that. It did however limit her options in what pokemon to bring. Goomy was right out, the heat and lack of humidity would dry the little slug-dragon right out, especially if it had to expend moisture in attacks. Samurott she could summon from his pokegem in an emergency to fight, but him travelling alongside her was out of the question, even if how badly his appearance would stand out wasn't already denying that course of action. Which really only left Vaporeon and Timburr as options, when the time came. "My only regret," she murmurs from alongside the cart in response to the catman's question, "is that there be little time to marvel at this new land more closely." She had opted to accompany the cart since she is pretty much human and wouldn't visually stand out, compared to some of the others present. Her cloak was wrapped around her body though, both to cover her armor and give the appearance that she was protecting herself from the hot wind and sands, with the hood pulled up over her head and a bit past her brow to shield her face from the harsh sunlight. "Perhaps on the return trip," she adds, an effort to make it sound like she is merely a traveller from one of Eroza's other regions. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga had apparently missed the part of the missive about this taking place in the desert, and originally arrived in full winter gear from the currently frigid Dun Realtai. She has since stashed away her cloak, hat, gloves and overdress, swapping out for wearing only her underdress with a thin tunic she'd bought at the market over it, belted at the waist to make an appropriate dress for the weather. She's tied a handkerchief around her hair to protect it from the sun. Even so, the desert is not a place she finds particularly comfortable. It is, in fact, the first time she's spent any time in one. It's hot. It's dry. There's not a lot of trees. She can't imagine why anyone would want to live here. "Ja..are we nearly there?" Inga inquires from the shade of the cart, peeking her head out to look around. She doesn't look terribly out of place, if perhaps a bit disheveled. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' Please like Rebound would bother to disguise herself. The kangaroo mutant is thankfully sort of like, from an environment similar to this. At least her mutated species is, but she's originally from Vegas so it counts too. "You guys have magical everything but haven't invented AC yet?" She asks the catman up front, "C'mon man, just throw some ice magic in a box or something." 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Amongst this group of 'locals' is what looks to be nothing more than an old man. He's covered with a dusty gray robe that has a hood on it, and leans heavily on a gnarled, mostly straight tree branch with a deeply-bent back. With the hood pulled up and his head down, nothing but his hands are visible. Just an old man here, nothing to see.     N'raha's question of his wellness gets a reedy-sounding response from the old man. "Well enough," he assures the Miquo'te in that whispery voice like dry leaves in a breeze. But as he speaks, he tilts his head up, juuuust enoguh that N'raha can see his face. The face there is unmistakably Dorian's; that moustache couldn't be anyone else's. Dorian offers a conspiratorial wink. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha at least has an answer to that one from Rebound. "Oh, I'll get you out to see Little Ala Mhigo some time. It's in a cave cooled by natural spring waterfalls. Very fancy, practically improbable. I suspect Thaumaturges."     Speaking of Thaumaturges, there's a Lalafell in the group as well, a young fellow carrying a Potato Sized Longstaff. "Mr. N'raha, I'll have you know that not EVERYTHING out of place was done by magic, and you know it." The young Cocoboha huff puffs a bit, and fiddles with his Guard's uniform, looking slightly uncomfortable. "Also you can thank Miss Minfilia for my presense. The Thaumaturge's Guild certainly doesn't want to see any primals in our backyard either."     The going is slow at least, the Flames working to make sure that the caravan is seen from a long ways away. All the better to be spotted and stalked, after all. It's just as the group is heading towards a natural arched bridge path over a canyon that something seems very amiss. Someone has dragged boulders across the path at the other side of the bridge. A likely start to a fight, perhaps, but N'raha isn't going to say that out loud, now is he? "Bother! Who put these here?" He calls out instead, and hauls on the reins of the Chocobos leading the cart, trying to get them to wheel around. "Now we're going to have to head back! Who would have done such a thing?" 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika just sighs. The desert just reminds her of the stores she heard about the Eastern Regions of Kasun, where the Easterling hordes rule with savagery. To say this isn't much different from the usual account of 'I tried to go on a trade route and we got hit by bandits' she heard about the East is putting it lightly. The kitsune just holds onto her spear, her crimson eyes peering out from bellow her hat as she remains alert.     It's just a matter of time before N'Raha's taunt gets the bandits to come out the woodwork. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga peeks out of the cart toward Kirika, raising a brow at her disguise. Interesting Yari impersonation. Was she doing that on purpose? To Dorian, Inga gives a look whenever she can catch his eye. This look says 'seriously dude?' more or less. SIGH. She has also had the sense not to coo ver Cocoboha, even though he is tiny and adorable. Because he is a mage, and just because one happens to be short and adorable does not mean one is not deserving of proper respect! Ahem. When the cart comes to a stop, Inga disembarks to have a look at what is going on. Ah, boulders blocking the bridge. She glances to N'raha. Will the bait be taken? Inga leans on her staff, raising one hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she scans the area. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' Not wanting togive away her presence, Rebound stays inside of the cart. After all, a tech gauntlet clad kangaroo monster would probably give away that this is a trap, and she doesn't want to do that until it's too late for the attackers. She clenches her hands, and tenses her legs, "C'mon you big lizardy bastards. Show yourselves already." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore plays along with the ploy, letting out a long disenchanted sigh and shaking her hooded head. "All this way for nothing? Boss won't like it if we come back without payment for these goods y'know." A small yip, barely audible, comes from within the cart and the covering shifts just enough for a pair of eyes to peer out. "No, not yet." Athela scolds in a whisper. "Get back in the box." There's another almost mutter like yip in response, and the covering drops back down again. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     The 'old man's' reedy-sounding response to N'raha's (very likely) rhetorical question comes soon after. "Ah, someone playin' a prank is all," he adds loudly. Whispery and lacking his normal accent, he's doing a reasonable impression of the accent one would hear in Ferelden. It seems pretty ubiquitous through most of the worlds he's been in. But, clearly, he's also playing along. He shakes a fist in the boulders' direction. "Don't these hoodlums understand this is a dangerous place to play such a prank?!"     Not to worry, Inga. Dorian can see your disapproval. However, the look he gives her in return is a confused 'what did I do?' sort of look. Sadly, he's not familiar enough with ancient Norse mythology to realize he's quite literally copying the mortal form of Odin. He'll ask her about it later though... he can't really afford to break the illusion just yet. And there's likely to be a battle here soon, so that's not the right time to ask. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     Celes has been along all this time and you can't prove otherwise. The Rune Knight is riding along the cart on a bland yellow Chocobo of her own, her cape and attire no doubt giving her the look of a random adventurer hired to escort the cart. She certainly wouldn't stand out amidst a crowd of gladiators or paladins, that's for sure. She's not very chatty, though. She seems to be listening to every explanation and definition given, but isn't interjecting or making herself a bother.     She'd meant to ask what a Primal is, but an occasion hasn't come up yet. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha... smiles faintly at Dorian, and not just because he's heard something. Actually pretty much everyone will be able to hear something. It's the faint twang of bowstring. Followed up by a volley of arrows, aimed not for the cart and the people around it, but the Chocobos pulling the cart. There's a squawk and a wark as one is clipped in the side and crumpled, legs kicking in terror. The cart wobbles to the side, but that's all the 'warning' that the Amalj'aa give as a full squad of them crest the hill, a group of spearlizards backed up by archers and what appears to be a spellcaster of some sort. A full sortie.     The Spearlizards charge forward, and move to put the followers at javelin-point, while a fancier looking Amalj'aa storms forward and clips N'raha in the face with the haft of his spear, knocking him to the ground and barking at him in broken Common. "You belong to us! This cart belongs to us! This is the will of Mighty Ifrit!"     N'raha... falls. He's at least a decent actor about it even, covering his head and trying to hide under the cart as best he can. "Just... just take the cart! Take me! Let the rest go!"     ...Is he giving them a chance? The world may never know, as another moves to pull Celes off her mount, aiming to ground the woman into the reach of the infantry. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' Without warning, the front of the cart bursts open, freeing the chocobo who were attached to it. Rebound wouldn't want to hurt them, they're adorable. Hopefully someone can patch up the one that got hit. A moment later, Rebound emerges from the back of the cart, "You assholes want the cart, huh?!?" She calls out, as she slips around behind it, setting up by dropping back onto her tail, and then hauling both of her feet off of the ground. She hauls back, and then kicks out with both feet, slamming them into the cart, sending it spiraling through the air towards the pack of Amalja, "Take it then!" 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     !!!!     NOT THE CHOCOBO!     Kirika will /not/ have animal abuse, not even by such cruel thugs as this lot of banditry around these parts. She looks to Inga for a moment, wondering if she disapproves of the disguise, before she tightens her grip on the spear she's borrowing.     She'll slip out the back of the cart when the bandits demand everyone leave it and surrender.     She will take this opportunity to rebuke such demands, and respond by throwing her spear like it's an olympic javelin at the chest of one of the dudes.     "COME AND GET US!" She roars. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Dorian's hearing is probably not as good as N'raha's, if for no other reason, simply due to where they're located. However, when the bird goes down, that's pretty clear a clue. Dorian actually cares enough to send a worried look to the bird. He can't help it right now, but if it survives, he may be able to help it later. Still, 'put the followers at spear-point' likely means that, in short order, there's going to be a lizardbutt with a spear pointed at him.     This will have to be rectified.     When the hiding allies start busting out of the cart, Dorian uses the distraction to stand straighter, and then swat the spear pointed at him away, then makes to try and slam the butt end of the staff into the lizardy spear-carrier's stomach. Hit or miss, he's getting out of immediate range.     It's then that he reaches up and grabs the gray robe and pulls it away. And underneath -- yup, it's the well-dressed Tevinter mage, wearing his leather armor and white cloak, in all his mustachioed glory. He sends a smirk at the lizardmen, and the branchy end of the staff he carries alights in flames, as if the gnarled branches are containing it within them. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore backpedals as the whizz of arrows goes through the air, instinctively putting her back towards the rest of the group so she can't be jumped from behind easily. But otherwise, playing the part of being startled, hunkering down a bit as if trying to huddle away from the approaching lizardmen under her cloak. At least until they get close and one levels his spear at her as another makes their demand. "... I think not." The change of demeanor is the only warning they'll get that something is up. Already gripping her weapon beneath the cloak Athela draws it in one fluid motion, catching the spear aimed at her with Resolute Blade's weapon snaring barbs and yanking it aside. "Your empty threats hold no claim here." Then brings the sword on the backswing across the Amalj'aa's face. Rebound kicks the cart into the air, which is taken advantage of as Athela's Vaporeon leaps out from under the tarps before it crashes into anything. The extra lift from the cart toss gives her an angle to "Vaporeooooooon!" and expel a powerful stream of water at the archers in the distance. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     'The will of Ifrit'? tCeles is confused, but she doesn't have time to act on it. That lizardman is being very violent in her direction. The chocobo's too. She frowns, immediatly unsheathing Save the Queen in a clean motion, used also to knock the Amalj'aa's hands away from her. She feels conflicted. It's obviously she needs to defend herself, but are these people followers of the Espers?     ... more importantly, this world has Espers?     It does have Chocobo...     "Raha, why are they shouting about Ifrit?"     Oh, right, the Amalj'aa. Knocking it away certainly wasn't going to discourage it. Still on her Chocobo, Celes' blade suddenly flashes a stony grey and brown, as she slashes, the cut's range extending with magic just far enough to catch the lizardman.     It's Break Strike. It inflicts Petrify. Or tries to, at least. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga gives Dorian a 'you know what you did' look. The similarities to Odin are there, but that's not what she's giving him the stink eye about. She's just giving him a hard time mostly for the fun of it, anyway. She throws him a wink when the Amal'jaa show up and start getting rough. Time to do what they do best--stay out of melee and blows things up or throw wards or healing from afar! The chocobo is the first to take damage, poor thing. Inga will see to it once they've dealt with the aggressors. "Yours? Tch. You're lucky I don't take slaves anymore," she grumbles, pulling her knife from her belt as one of the lizardmen rushes toward her with a spear. Knife in one hand, staff in the other, she gestures with her staff and shouts something in old Norse. A wave of force bursts from her, slamming into the lizardman to send him flying backward. Denied. Next, come wards. Inga starts with herself, because it is a good idea to keep the healer alive. The knife is brought to her opposite arm, drawing enough blood to bring a shimmering gold an crimson ward to life around her. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     WELL. THAT HAPPENED.     There's a bark of... well, first, laughter from the Amalj'aa at the first of the people piling out of the cart. One in the back chortles. "HAH! It was a false ploy!" Which is followed up by... many more of the Amalj'aa piling over the ridge. SOMEONE sold them out. Oh dear.     What isn't followed by laughter is the sudden sight of Rebound. And then Kirika. Definately not from Around These Parts. Off-worlders! There's a squawk as several of the spearmen are taken down by attacks, one poor sod crumbling to the ground stiff as a board. The Fancy Amalj'aa staggers back and moves into the cover of several of his soldiers. "TO ARMS! CUT THEM ALL DOWN."     Well now the fight is truely in proper disorder, as infantry storm down at the Watch, spearlizards and punchlizards moving in to attempt and pummel these offworlders into submission.     There's a lion's roar though, from under the cart, as N'raha and Cocoboha come charging out. Presumably the roar's from N'raha as his dirty red armor shimmers with discharging Aether, because Cocoboha is matching the other spell casters with a roar of flames from the tip of his staff! 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     ...Great.     Dorian was all smiles and 'ha HA!' over there, and then suddenly... well, a modern earth reference might be to say that KUNG POW levels of enemies crest the ridge. The Altus's feelings on this are expressed in a single, very appropriate word.     "...''Kaffas''."     He sighs. "Well... in for a pinch, in for a pound," he mutters under his breath. Slightly altered phrase there, Thedas doesn't have 'pennies'. Close enough though.     However, much like Inga, Dorian's first order of business is to start protecting people. Excuse him a moment, he's going to be tossing Barriers at people for a few moments yet. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     More and more of them. No answer from Raha, either. Celes tugs on her Chocobo, commanding the beast with some manner of experience. She's no expert rider, but she seems to know her way around mounted combat. Dorian shields them all, which is good. Inga shields herself even further, which makes it SLIGHTLY less of a priority to cover her. But still one.     The Rune Knight darts through the lizardmen, the Chocobo zigzagging through the swords and spears until Celes is behind them; a sharp turn later, and her sword is pointed at the soldiers, the air around it chilling.     "Blizzaga!"     Cue giant icicles forming overhead and slamming down to crush as many of the soldiers as possible, without risking to hit any ally. She might not look like a Thaumaturge or Black Mage but she has the punch of one. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika may have foolishly discarded her spear when she did, but she's not unarmed, not by a long shot. Her sword leaves the sheath, and the blade Kinugiri sings as Kirika dispels her glamor. The au ra becomes a fox, and Kirika grasps her sword in both hands.     She charges at the infantrymen, her blade aloft as she meets them directly. She slashes at one of the spearmen, intending to slice his weapon in two before another cut finishes him off.     It's odd. Kirika doesn't usually fight to kill, yet in the rush of combat...she doesn't care, for once. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' ... So it was a trap for their trap of the trap. That definately seems to be a thing that is happening right now. "Thought that was too easy," Athela murmurs mostly to herself as her pokemon returns to her side as more and more of the lizardmen pour over the ridges to replace the first wave they dispatched. But it is enough of a moment between rushes for her to plant her armored heels in the sand and grab the cloak to whip it off completely. Don't need that getting in her way, fighting in midst of the desert in leather and chainmail is probably going to become uncomfortable enough. All the same she stands tall and defiant of the attack as a knight should, ancient weapon hold before her. "The midsts of the desert shall not save thee from Justice's unrelenting tide! Your so-called god shall claim nothing this day!" Dorian is here, which usually means defenses. So they can focus on the offense to turn back the charge. "Sprite, give me thy strength." The Vaporeon nods, yerfing something in response as she prances around the young woman's feet, her eyes glowing like tiny pools of water. Her elemental presense, and a attack boosting Helping Hand, give Athela more than enough to work with. Swirls of water are already spiraling around Resolute Blade, and when Athela slashes the weapon through the air the charge is released, the elemental energy streaming off of it taking the form not unlike that of a 'whipsword' save made of pressurized water, that whips in a shearing arc towards the attackers. Slice down as many of them as she can, until she's forced to back off from the attack so she can use her sword (and Dorian's barrier) to defend herself from those that make it through the assault. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' "Oh you fools." Rebound slams her fists together, the technological terrors known as the Impact Drivers hissing to life and glowing green with the plasma energy that courses through them. She plants her feet and leaps, flying upwards into the air, and heading for the biggest collection of them that she can spot. She lands hard inside of the group, and then slams the Impact Driver into the closest one's sternum. It'll probably not kill him outright, but she doubts he'll be getting back up from it either, "C'mon, get me you bastards!" She wheel's around with a heel kick towards the next closest one, keeping an eye out for spears and swords and anything like that she'll need to deflect with the drivers, because she's not exactly built to take hits. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Ice and sword cut down several of the infantry, as Celes and Kirika find their marks, the Blizzard actually feeling right at home in the place. In fact, probably more so as the spellcaster on the ridge howls something in his native tongue, and shards of ice and biting, cutting wind start to rain down on the entire area of the cart, trying to force people out of cover.     The wards from Inga and Dorian start to come into play as well, as the magical blood and arcane barriers start to turn away spears and fists, stopping harsh blows against N'raha and Athela and Rebound, as the front line fighters start to wade into the infantry. That's double for the PokeKnight as her waterblade lashes out, dropping two more of the massive Beastmen. And more so as the kangaroo-girl crushes another.     The Fanciest Amalj'aa howls in rage, and points at the spell casters barking orders, and sending more of their infantry in for the Squishies. There's also a ripple of heat energy from the entire group of lizardmen, as an Enfire from their boss coats all of their attacks with blistering heat.     Still they come. The fancy man looks anxious, though, somehow. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' They're presence has not gone unnoticed it seems. Indeed, it looks as though they are about to become targets of special interest. Inga trusts that the others will cover them, but be ready to protect herself if need be. She has many tricks up her sleeve. The enemy mages draw Inga's attention. As no one appears to be hurt as of yet, Inga can perhaps do a little damage. Raising her staff, she begins to chant, the runes carved along the wood glowing white-hot with channeled anima. Lightning cracks, zipping toward one of the beastman spellcasters, smashing into him with great force, charging the air and filling the area with the stench of ozone. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika's sword slashes deep as she and Celes engage the enemy directly. Her sword begins to burn with holy flame as she attempts another slash. The fox grows chilly for a moment, as ice shards fly her way. One of them finds its mark, and she takes an icicle to the shoulder. "Hgh!" Grunting, she begins to burn with flame to melt the ice rather than attempt to rip it free, and she heats up to counteract the frozen winds.     Suddenly her hand begins to project a gout of flame, like a short-range flame-thrower of some sort. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore has thanked Dorian's being present many times before, and this is likely to be another. The Barrier may run down quickly under repeated assault, but every blow it weakness is a blessing in itself. It is wearing quickly though, and Athela takes advantage of the last precious few seconds it gives to parry a few spear thrusts to only grazing her armor and backing off a bit. There is still a lot of enemies upon them. A few stab at her companion, but their spears pass right through her as Sprite uses Vaporeon's trademark ability to shift into a more waterlike form and mitigate the damage done. Only to start to shimmer a moment after as Aqua Ring absorbs that energy back in and refills a small but important portion of her health. Vaporeons are known for being the tankiest of the original eeveelutions for good reason. "We need better odds of our own..." Athela asides her sword for a moment, instead retrieving an aquamarine gem from her pouch. "Lancer, come forth!" It surges with energy, and shoots off into the air briefly? Which results in a defiant roar as the Samurott is summoned into physical being and CRASHES into the midst of the horde from above, crushing several lizardmen beneath it's bulk of mass and knightly armor. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     What an odd sensation. Magic here feels different. Is it because it's abundant? Maybe there's something else nearby. She wishes she could pay attention to the feeling more, but finds herself having very little time to. Swords and spears are still aplenty, and she doesn't want to let her steed die. Save the Queen sings through the air, expertly, crashing into melee weapons, focusing on those trying to skewer her Chocobo. This means she can't cover her own flanks as well, and ends up with a fair few cuts of her own. Her cape even loses a piece. That's no good.     Then something catches her eye. The biggest of the Amalj'aa casts a spell, trying to empower his army. Celes does what Celes was raised to do.     "RUNIC!"     Her sword rises into the air, and flashes a momentary gold. It's... trying to eat the Enfire spell? All of it. Celes is absorbing as much of the spell as she can. Those Amalj'aa won't get flaming weapons if she can help it. Neither will she, but she'll get MP back from it, so it's fine. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     It's a valid tactic -- 'kill the healer'. Or 'kill the mages'. Most of the people in Ferelden would probably agree with that last one anyway! He's more worried about casting those Barriers around his allies, so he's going to end up with the charging soldiers a little closer to him than is possible for him to retaliate against with magic...     But see, Dorian may be kind of breaking the rules for magic in Hydaelyn. The staff he's carrying is on fire, as if it were a Black Mage's fire-elemental staff. But he just casted Barriers, which is more or less a short-term Protect spell, which is (presumably) a White Magic spell. And now he's about to break those rules again.     Because when the soldiers get close... the fiery end of that staff is going to get swung with force at the head of the first one that gets in range. The fire may or may not hurt these things, but getting blatted in the face with a solid piece of wood is still unpleasant. Particularly when there's significant force behind it!     For himself, Dorian may not have superhuman strength, but he definitely knows how to fight with a staff. He can use the weapon's longer reach to parry spears, get inside an infantryman's guard, and apply enough force to a swing to be pretty damned painful. A Black Mage's weapon, a White Mage's spells, and now competence with physical attacks? SO NOT FAIR!     And of course, because Dorian is an ass, can't resist making an incredibly inappropriate joke between swings at Amalj'aa who get too close. "You know, I usually require a drink before I allow anyone to impale me. With this attitude, you lot aren't convincing me to make exceptions for you," he half-growls. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     WELL NOW. Let's start off with that Runic? Shall we? Celes' magical Om Nom... well, to say it rattles the Captain is putting it lightly. There's a shudder in the ranks, even, as the expected invigorating envelopment of Ifrit's warmth is suddenly sucked away from all present. There's squawks of disbelief and angst, and a bellowing roar of anger from the Captain. "They bear the touch of the Crystal! Suffer none to live!" Ooof. Someone's testy about that.     (Also for the record, Celes, that magic is... distasteful. Unsettling. There's something corrupted about these creature's source of power.     N'raha's head snaps up, as well, as the 'suffer none' is called out. Also the Crystal part. Oh right. They really hate the Chosen in these parts. The Catman drags his axe out of an Amalj'aa and charges into another crowd of lizardfolk...     Who were attempting to get to Dorian and Inga and Cocoboha! He shoulder tackles right into them, in fact, axe swinging to knock them all over as the diminutive Lalafell clambers up on the overturned cart to point his staff and launch a blistering, massive wave of flames into a crowd.     Then hell is breaking loose. A massive Pokemon is Summoned, smashing into the backline and sending archers sprawling. That's backed up by Inga's lightning, which smacks into the far caster, sending him sprawling as well. This is going from bad to worse for all involved... who are Amalj'aa. The Captain howls, and spits blood from his mouth, calling for... "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?" His beastmen are hesitating though, seeing so many of their number already fallen and pooling their essence back to the lifestream and the aether. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     HOLY is also a pretty good choice here, as well as MORE FIRE. Fire is very popular, as Kirika's attacks slice through more of the foes in front of her. The hesistating Amalj'aa are.. well. They were expecting the Immortal Flames, honestly, not a bunch of Offworld Adventurers. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's eyes are drawn toward N'raha suddenly, an eyebrow rising slightly as she senses something eminating from his person. She smiles briefly, then turns back to the fight to catch Dorian's quip, to which she laughs out loud. Oh Dorian. That's some fancy staff-work--Inga is not so much capable of that, but has other defensive mechanisms. Bloody ones. N'raha intervenes on her behalf, keeping her from being swarmed by lizardmen that want her blood. One slips through however, and if he wants he blood, well, he's going to get it. She turns to try to avoid being speared, but the blade still grazes her. Blood gushes from the wound and Inga turns, whispers, and flings it at him. It's acid. Horrible, burning acid. She then hits him with her stick, just for good measure, before looking around to see if anyone needs her healing services while her blood is still flowing. Hopefully, lizardman is freaked out enough by being sprayed by acid blood and having his flesh melted to want to bother her anymore. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     That magic tasted like purple. Yuck. It's not a familiar feeling, either. Celes' world doesn't really have 'bad magic' like this. Magic is magic. You can drain an Esper or turn it into a crystal, but either way using its magic won't have any weird... weight to it. This is different. Worrying. She'll abstain from eating any more for now. She'll ask Raha about it after.     Seeing the soldiers backing away, their lines broken, Celes guns for the captain. The Chocobo accelerates, and makes a leap, over the few remaining swords and spears of the captain's forward guard. She's coming down hard, slashing her blade. Save the Queen glows black and red, an intense pressure that burns and blasts, but it isn't fire. It's Black Magic, pure, destructive. Flare Strike.     "That's quite enough! Admit you've lost and surrender, further bloodshed is pointless! For both sides!" 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Unfortunately for the lizardmen, hesitation can be a lethal mistake on the battlefield. Or in the least, it can be capitalized on. "Sweep them up, Lancer!" Athela calls to her armored monster, to finish off those attackers before they can get reorganized. The Samurott lunges forth at the command, aiming to impale the nearest lizardman on the lance-like blade protruding from his helmet. Then twists around, both to through him off, and in the same motion swing his broad tail in a sweeping arc to bowl over anything else that gets in his way, sending attackers scattering in various directions. He has that matter well in hand, so Athela turns and strikes the spearbearers trying to harass her other pokemon, giving the Vaporeon a chance to recover farther as she slices and kicks them away. "Begone from these sands, before your blood stands them farther in the futility of your so-called god!" 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' Rebound has been doing her best to work her way through the front line of lizard men. She's got blood on her. Some of it is her's, most of it isn't. She seems to be enjoying herself though. The kangaroo hauls one of the big lizard men up over her head, "HEY!" She yells out, trying to get the attention of any of the Amalja around her, "Does this belong to you?!" She hurls the lizard towards his buddies, and then dives after him, flying in with a Macho Man-esque elbow drop. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Dorian had been distracted with his current quarry, and so he hadn't seen the approaching mass of Amalj'aa. Not, that is, until N'raha barrels into them like a Reaver on a blood-frenzy! That gets his attention, and the turns just enough to see what's going on. "Much appreciated!" Dorian calls to N'raha.     But he doesn't leave the words of the Captain un-responded to either. and he responds in typical smartass fashion. "No Crystal's 'touched' me," Dorian clarifies loudly. A smirk, and then in a false pitying tone, he asks, "Should I bring you a doll and have you show me on the doll where the bad Crystal touched you?"     Yes. Yes Dorian is indeed a smartass.     But he's not going to leave his barbs purely verbal. He first looks at Inga, attention drawn to her by her laughter, and fofers a playful wink. Then he aims his gaze at the line of lizardmen that are hesitating, being careful to aim away from any allies also heading in that direction. He thrusts his hands out in front of him, then sweeps them outwards, to his sides. The sand under the line of Amalj'aa may start to heat up. And then he turns his hands palm up, then raises them quickly into the air.     As if cued by his hands upward sweep, fire springs to life from that place where the sand is starting to heat up in a wall. Just one thing. Dorian's fire magic has a nasty habit of continuing to burn after it hits an enemy. So there might be a few flaming lizardmen here. Which just might cause some to start running around. And they might catch others on fire. Daisy chain of setting lizard-things on fire, maybe? 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika rips out the remainder of the icicle in her arm, taking a chunk with it. Grumbling, she tucks her wounded arm under her kimono as she keeps her sword close in hand. The flames are certainly a nasty surprise, especially coming from a kitsune from off-world. Foxfire is potent, even if Kirika's not exactly good at throwing it at long range.     The kitsune continues to fight, to her credit, her sword slashing and stabbing with careful movements. With only one good arm she can't exactly use her best moves, but she can still hold her own as she dishes out kicks and the odd tail-strike, a hook kick from her sandaled foot and a wide arcing slash giving her some breathing room amid the horde. "Raaaagh! This is your last chance, leave or die now!" She roars, even as she sustains the odd cut and gash in the fighting. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     That hesitation has cost these creatures, these beastmen, the battle here. Most of them, it's now cost their lives, as the off worlders move in on them all.     The PokeKnights' summons have that situation well in hand, as the big SAMURAI OTTER lays into the last of the melee protecting the archers, sending the bow-lizards running out of the combat area. Dorian's flames light several more on fire, and that acid blood from Inga and the Cannonball special from Rebound clear the path for Kirika and Ceres and N'raha to close the distance through the rest of the mess to the fuming mad Captain.     Despite all the other shit that's just happened in front of him, the beastman is clearly... not about to surrender. There's a depserate anger in his eyes, born of fanaticism, and probably being Tempered by Ifrit. The dark skinned Amalj'aa hisses through clenched teeth, and gets up into the face of the shorter foes...     Before N'raha plants a boot in the creature's chest, and kicks him bodily into a nearby boulder. There's a crunching of rock and flesh, and the catman's axe lifts up. He's bleeding in multiple places, cut and bashed and pierced through his armor, but he still stands, as is the way of the Warrior. "Sit down... and stay down... I am Raha of the Aldgoat, Blessed of Hydaelyn, and you WILL SUBMIT." The words ring out, clear as a bell along with both Kirika and Celes' calls for surrender... and despite the position he's in, the Captain snarls out. "This blood will be avenged, you insolent trash. Mighty Ifrit is coming, and there is nothing you filth can do to stop it. The Mighty One comes to claim all of this world in flames and wrath, and not even those TAINTED by the Crystal can stop us."     Oh ho. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga, now that she is no longer being attacked, can turn her attention back to healing. And at least a couple of their party needs it. Blood still flows from her wound, but she's not worried. It is already beginning to heal. With the blood she has, she uses her magic to empower it, flinging the healing spell toward N'raha and then Kirika. That should get the healing started. Inga limps toward N'raha and the defeated lizardman. She folds her hands on top of her staff as he considers the creature, frowning thoughtfully. "We could sacrifice him to Hydaelyn," she offers. "Strengthen her against this...Ifrit." Because that's how Inga thinks it works. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Most of the enemy is either dead or fleeing. Except for their leader, who is clearly too stubbornly devoted to his dillusions to do so. This... actually gets a slight sigh out of Athela. This is something she has seen many times before with Team Golem. Obsessed to the point that they totally disregard their own life in the name of the 'god' they serve. To the point that they would sacrifice their body and soul in destruction (bastards somehow teach themselves SELF-DESTRUCT) than submit. It was not unlike the 'Tempering' these Primals apparently do. Athela shakes her head a little. "He is a zealot, sir," she remarks to the axe-cat. "He will not relent or give remorse. There.. is only one course to end this threat." It is not one she herself likes, but having dealt with zealots and cults as much as she has, Athela knows it is the only option. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     Kirika glances to Inga immediately, feeling her arm fixing from the Wisewoman's spell, nodding to her. She actually considers Inga's options as she sheathes her sword, and approaches the last remaining cultist.     "So be it." She says at last, before she untucks her arm and grips her sword. Narrowing her eyes, she rests Kinugiri's blade over the bandit's neck, and raises the sword up high. Taking a breath, she brings the blade down. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     "No," Celes says, glancing towards Inga at her suggestion. "Enough people have died. He might be a zealous monster, but killing him won't change anything. It won't bring back the people he might have killed and undo our injuries. Violence breeds violence, and they'll seek revenge. We should turn him in to the people he inconvenienced and let their justice handle i--"     Oh, Kirika is acting.     Celes' blade flashes. She Hastes herself and brings the weapon to halt Kirika's, evidently unhappy. Save the Queen can handle blows, anyway. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Dorian just outright has no patience for religious zealots. This becomes clear when he sneers harshly at the Captain's words. "You sound like the Venatori," he says in disgust. Then nonchalantly, "Blah, blah, blah, 'my god's better than yours', 'my god will bring righteous justice down on you'." He waves a dismissive hand. "I've heard it all before." That's not to say he's discounting the threat that this 'Ifrit' poses. He knows that it's obviously something powerful, or it wouldn't have this many people (if indeed the Amalj'aa can be considered 'people') following it so blindly. But he's not going to give this one the satisfaction of knowing he IS afraid.     Athela's words get a nod. "I'm inclined to agree. I've dealt with his like. I doubt he'll tell us anything. Nothing for it but to put him out of ALL our misery." He's frowning darkly as he says this, and doesn't seem to be nearly as hesitant to take the 'final' solution as Athela. But that doesn't mean he's not making his own plans.     Of course, Zealot McCultyface over there isn't part of them. And as Kirika makes to put the foul creature out of its misery -- and out of the misery of all -- he makes no move at all to save the Captain or to stop Kirika. Or, to note, to look away. He merely huffs, "Good riddance."     And then Celes is intercepting! Dorian backs away from the clashing blades. But he does note, "To send him back to his people with the knowledge that he failed..." A nasty little smile spreads across his face. "That's even crueler than killing him. I like how you think, good lady." He's probably got all the wrong idea about it, though...     Once all this is dealt with, in whatever way it will be dealt with, Dorian is going to make sure to confer with Raha about this 'Ifrit' situation. He may not be a Chosen of the Crystal, but he's a mage of no small power. Surely once he analyzes the basic patterns of the magic, he'll be able to figure out something. Besides, he's strong with the fire element, and they wouldn't be stealing fire crystals for this Ifrit if it were not also a fire beast of some kind, right? Perhaps he'll be able to sense something when the move is made? 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha... hears the commotion, and steps out of the way to dodge the FoxRonin's swipe, only to have that blade be stopped by Miss Celes.     The Captain's eyes flick between the women, and he tries to make a break for it... But there's N'raha's boot again, this time lifting up to pin him by his throat and shoulder. The healing from Inga is making that easier, actually.     The Amalj'aa sneers up at the Miqo'te, and clicks his teeth triumphantly. "See, not even your own allies can make a choi-"     The boot shifts and cuts off the Captain's air. N'raha's words now. "Celes is right. This one belongs to the Flames. A little odd how many of you showed up-" And then he says something in Miqo'te that is probably a slur, and won't be translated. Not a happy cat. Said unhappy cat looks over to Inga and the rest, and murmurs. "Are the chocobos stable, Inga?" She is the only healer here, after all.     From out of the cart, though, flopples over Cocoboha, the Lalafell already moving to dust himself off and smudge dirt over his wounds. All the better to stop the bleeding, until he can be taken care of. "Remind me next time... to hire another conjuror! This business is not what I signed up for!" 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "His sort will not change... but it is just to allow those wronged by his actions to decide how he will pay for those transgressions." Athela sheaths her weapon. This choice is acceptable enough, this world is not hers to decide. "But it may be wise to have greater watch over these routes. Even with him in custody, it will likely not slow down his ilk for long. Another will rise to fill the hole left by his absense soon enough." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' It doesn't really matter to her. He's been dealt with in one way or another. Kirika moves to do the dead, but Celes stops her. "It matters not to me," she offers with a shrug. She'd rather he die, but that's not her choice. She figures he will get himself killed anyway, may as well do something useful with him like sacrifice him to another god likely to oppose his. That's how it would be done in her culture anyway. Another healing spell is cast on those who need it, before Inga nods to N'raha. "I'll see to the chocobos. I'll have to remove an arrow or two, so I could use a bit of muscle if anyone wouldn't mind," she says, then turns and heads to the birds to see them patched up and ready to go. 

:'''{{#var:481|Kirika (481)}} has posed:'''     KIrika is about to finish off the Amalj'aa, before Celes stops her mid-swipe. She looks to the general not with anger but confusion, a brow arching as their swords grind. (Shut up.)     "We bring him with us and they will no doubt kill him anyway." She points out calmly. If he does escape, it's not like he has an organization anymore. Without any real ill will toward Celes, the kitsune sheaths her sword, and bows her head. "I apologize for acting without consultation, my lady. Regardless, whether he lives or dies is little issue." 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' "Tsk." Rebound watches the posturing by the defeated captain, and the mixed attempts at killing and saving him from the others in the group, "Hey Raha." She says, as she motions to the captain, "He can go to jail with a couple of broken arms, right?" She asks, smirking a little bit She doubts she's actually going to be allowed to break both of his arms, but oh she would rather enjoy doing it if the permission is given to her, "Otherwise lets just knock his ass out and haul him back." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, the Fancy Amalj'aa is stuffed in the back of the cart, with two good chocobos pulling it again. Even if he does wake up, there's not much fight in him, now that he's in 'smug zealot' mode. The Flames don't really care HOW he makes it back, but that he does is a welcome surprise... and a few more bounty gil in the pockets of those involved.     Also for the taking are minor QUEST REWARDS. Hooray! 
}}

4957/Bushin - N'raha

2019-01-03T05:27:14Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2016/12/31 |Location=The Mist, Hydaelyn |Synopsis=Setsuko comes to give N'raha one last goodbye. |Cast of Characters=819, 255 |pretty=yes }} {{Pose..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2016/12/31
|Location=The Mist, Hydaelyn
|Synopsis=Setsuko comes to give N'raha one last goodbye.
|Cast of Characters=819, 255
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It is a very quiet morning in The Mist. In one of the eastern districts, on the beaches just outside his home, one particular Miq is resting his bottom on the sand, in the coolness of the winter, watching the tide roll out.     It is a far cry from last night, with the wild parties and the fireworks and everything. N'raha had NOT been taking part. Planning was afoot, and preperations of a different sort were being made.     But for now, in the calm before the literal storm... the pirate cat has a bottle of mild wine, and is working at it as he watches the waves crest and wash and smooth out the shore. A metaphor lies there somewhere, but he can't quite catch it. 

:'''{{#var:255|Setsuko Kaminagi (255)}} has posed:'''     Watching the sun rise on a new year is always an experience to be savored; but speaking of the calm before the storm, on this particular New Year's Day, it almost looks as if it might not happen. A low cloud cover has rolled in over the adventurer's district known as Mist, as the first hints of morning light appear on the horizon, with a soft rumble in the skies above. It doesn't quite seem to promise rain, nor the fury oft attributed to the Lord of Levin, but it looms overhead, announcing itself with faint, distant thunder every so often. It's not surprising to have this kind of weather on the coast of Vylbrand, but at the same time, something feels... different.     "This seems like a pleasant place to live," Setsuko greets.     There's no warning. No sense of her arriving - with that massive, bonfire-like divine presence of hers, the more sensitive could probably feel her in Gridania all the way from the westernmost reaches of Thanalan. But here... no, her presence is there, but it's minimal. Simple, calm, radiant, still unmistakably divine, but somehow far more controlled. Less a bonfire than a simple beacon. And not announcing itself for miles around.     And her entire look has changed, as well. Gone are the black sleeveless top, gone are the grey pants, gone is the hair long on one side. It's now uniformly short, and she wears a formal-looking blue coat, with gold trim and spiked black shoulder pauldrons, over a more dressy pair of pants and boots. There's a new scar, too, from her forehead down across her right eye.     There's also a very large war horse standing behind her. Jet black, the size of Sleipnir - or possibly even larger. Huh. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a change in sensation about the Light Warrior too. As N'raha shifts a bit at the feeling of Setsuko coming up behind him and greeting him... there's no sudden jumping, no panic nothing like that. Those dark eartips flick a bit, and there's a fangy grin from Raha shifts a bit in place, a hand planting itself on his knee. "It is. The Admiral thought I ought to have a place to call my own... rather than just rooms in the Inn. Granted, I'm living in the city now, but." He chuckles quietly, and then looks up and back to the Goddess, the Eikon, the Primal...     And lets out a breath. Even with the new scar she's... still very handsome. A touch of pink in his eartips, and he coughs, holding out the wine bottle and offering up a spot on the sand next to him. "A year will make... lots of changes. 

:'''{{#var:255|Setsuko Kaminagi (255)}} has posed:'''     "Sometimes, even a week will make those changes. Now and then, even a single night." The swordswoman moves carefully, sitting down on the sand beside N'raha, and reaches out to take the wine bottle. There's a quick drink, before she passes it back. "The changes seem to suit you well, though. There's steel in your eyes now." Not that he wasn't capable and determined before; but he's definitely grown as a fighter. "How have you been since the Multiverse... shifted?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A light sigh from Raha, and he wilts at the words. "You have no idea. It wasn't a cataclysm, but it was close. Now the Primals are all riled up again and... Hnnn. Tired is how I'm feeling. Is that steel too?" The miq has the temerity to smile at least, as the horizon starts to shift away from the blackness of night. A faint glow starts to encroach, sliding the gloom of night away.     "...Highwind and Doc are gone doing... things. Which makes me the only Light Warrior around." Ears wilt. Raha sighs. "The city-states are at odds on how to handle things, and the Scions are stuck in the middle." 

:'''{{#var:255|Setsuko Kaminagi (255)}} has posed:'''     Setsuko smiles faintly, looking out over the sea. Overhead, the clouds rumble softly again. "That's always the way, isn't it? Those in positions of power must look to their own first and foremost, and never have the same idea of what will work best. And those who seek to solve and settle things, have to deal with all of them." For a few moments she closes her eyes, while the horse behind the two of them snorts with impatience. "I wish that I could offer my help. But at the very least, I'm glad that my mere presence will no longer risk a Primal summoning, as I am now." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Heh. Well. The Old Man's crystal is still in my possession. And I've got... well." Raha lifts the bottle to his lips, and murmurs. "I've got plans on how to get the other ones. If the city-states can't agree on dealing with the Primals... I'll do it for them."     A look to his 'senpai', and the Warrior murmurs. "Are you alright? You didn't give up your power, did you?" 

:'''{{#var:255|Setsuko Kaminagi (255)}} has posed:'''     "Quite the opposite," Setsuko replies, turning to look at N'raha at last. For a moment, storms seem to dance in her eyes. Overhead, the clouds rumble again, and behind the two of them, that black warhorse whinnies, the sand around its feet crackling with tiny discharges of electricity.     She looks back out over the ocean, and continues, "There've been a few who referred to me as a goddess, over the years. They were wrong, when they said it. I was still half-mortal. Half-human. But if they were to say it now... it wouldn't be so inaccurate." She lets out a soft breath. "...If I remember the names of the Twelve correctly, I am now the Halone of my homeland." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     ...And N'raha lets out a low and slow breath.     The catman shifts a bit, unfolding his legs and moving to kneel instead, and then he lowers himself down in a bow. "Mmmmh, well. Congratulations to you... Halone." A smile as he raises up, and murmurs. "See, you're a Primal I don't mind... ah... submitting to. You at least taught me the Right Way to deal with my rage." A little wry smile, and the miqo'te scratches at his belly, the tunic lifting to show off new scars of his own.     Despite the clouds overhead, the light continues to grow with the impending dawn. 

:'''{{#var:255|Setsuko Kaminagi (255)}} has posed:'''     "If you need a name to pray to, Kaminagi-no-Tachi Kiri-no-Musume is the proper long form of address," Setsuko replies, the name thrumming softly with signifigance. "Kiri-no-Musume will do. But..." The goddess develops a small smile. "'Setsuko' is still allowable when speaking as one friend to another. And I won't be turning my worshippers into mindless thralls, nor bleeding the land dry, either. My presence is natural to my world. More like Hydaelyn than the Primals."     She finally moves to stand, drawing another irritable noise from the horse - at whom she levels a simple, steel-eyed gaze. "Kuro-no-Tatsumaki. Patience. We'll go when it's time." The swordswoman sighs quietly, reaching into her pocket for something. "He is a fine, steadfast steed, but... unruly, at times. He listens to me only because I'm stronger than he is." The horse snorts again. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     That.. at least, gets a pleased smile from Raha as he turns to face the horse, and Setsuko. "Kiri-no-Musume, then." He practices the name quietly, before hearing about the goddess's horse troubles. "Oh, well, that sounds familiar. Dogmeat only listens to me 'cause I'm the one that feeds him his greens." He glances past the shore-wall of the beach, up to his house, where a lime-green Chocobo can be seen, roosting quietly in a stable.     That said, he murmurs. "Not really sure I'll be doing much praying though. I get enough 'pray'-ing as it is." A grumble about busywork, and the Miq goes back to watching the shores, as the first rays of sun start to peek over the horizon.     And as it happens, the Miq's ears pin back, and he shudders quietly, going right back into that bow in the direction of the sun. 

:'''{{#var:255|Setsuko Kaminagi (255)}} has posed:'''     As N'raha bows again, there's a soft jangle beside one ear - something being held close. A simple gold pendant, set with a gemstone of a pure, striking blue. The same shade as Setsuko's eyes. "A keepsake for you, N'raha Tia. This will grant you no special powers, but it has been touched by Storm and War. If you ever find yourself in the land known as Pugna, bearing this will mark you as a friend of both the country of Seiryuu and the Duchy of Bran. I cannot offer my aid to Eorzea anymore... but I can at least offer you well-wishes." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman lifts up, something... hazy passing his vision. The Echo? Maybe. But the gift gets a... a gasp. He quietly takes a hold of it, and looks up at Setsuko. A quiet, lion-like noise in his chest, and he murmurs. "No? Truely? I... you were a great... help." Ears droop for a moment, but then the political issues that would arise cross his mind, rapidly.     A click of fangs. "I suppose you can't, no." Raha sighs, and then rises up to his feet, quietly hanging the pendant around his neck. "I'll keep it close, Setsuko." 

:'''{{#var:255|Setsuko Kaminagi (255)}} has posed:'''     The goddess's hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and she gives him a simple nod. "Be well, N'raha Tia. You have it in you to be great. Hydaelyn chose her champion well." And so, finally, she turns to step up beside Tatsumaki, and sling herself up into the ornate saddle on the horse's back. She gives the reins a flick, and the horse quickly reaches a gallop... that takes it right out over the surface of the water, where she soon veers south, and then her body grows hazy, indistinct, fading until it has disappeared entirely.     Up above, the clouds finally begin to recede, swiftly dispersing until there's a clear sky to greet the sunrise. 
}}

6231/The Minstrel's Ballad: Gaius's Ambition(3)

2019-01-03T05:20:26Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2019/01/02 |Location=The Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=The Wandering Minstrel's Third Act takes the Warrior of Light and his companions to the figh..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2019/01/02
|Location=The Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=The Wandering Minstrel's Third Act takes the Warrior of Light and his companions to the fight against Gaius van Baelsar
|Cast of Characters=6843, 819, 994, 525, 6
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Once more, there are those who gather to hear the words of the Minstrel.  The song he weaves about the tale he was told by a man who helped bring the downfall of Gaius van Balsar and his terrible weapon.  Once more, the dark-haired man with googles and lute in hand sits on a stool, as drink and food are passed to the patrons. Strumming the strings, as he prepares once more to sing... "Come my friends, gather around for a tale of a would-be crown. When our hero, protector of the realm Faces against ambition sound Who fights with the strength befitting a ruler.. But who's ambition clouds his vision. For the reeking cloud's ambition Shines as bright as the baleful moon's light. With fierce gale quelled, with the roaring inferno choked, with the wrath of earth abated... With the Heart of Sabik glowing with pale green light With conviction and determination does the would-be conquer With righteousness does our would be savior all of these and more meet on the field of battle.. As the words come as the battlefield starts to materialize in your mind's eye.  Like before, for those of you who have been here to see this, but for those who have not, the song and the melody are so enrapturing that you picture yourself there...and somehow, you too /are/ there, apart of the story being spun to you. Standing before you is a man in dark plate, with a red overcoat that seems to be integrated with the armor itself.  Even his head is covered in a flat horned helm, his face covered by a white mask.  In his hands is a gunblade, a sword attached with a gun at the hilt.  On his right hand seems to be another projectile weapon, but attached to the armor.  He speaks to you, firmly and with confiction. "I see you have the strength of a ruler, able to push back the Ascian and chase him from this moment.  Ha!  If only I were there to see the look on his face.  However..." he says, the amusement ending as he starts walking across the battlefield.  "We have business to settle, warriors of light. However, I must know.  For whom do you fight?  Do you believe in Eorzia, the land you are fighting for now?" As you answer, he responds, "Eorzia's unity is forged of falsehoods.  Its city-states are built on deceit and its faith is an instrument of deception. It is naught but a cobweb of lies.  To believe in Eorzia is to believe in nothing. In Eorzia the beastmen often summon their gods to fight in their stead.  Though yours only respond rarely in kind, which is strange, is it not?" "Are the Twelve otherwise engaged?  I was given to understand they were your protectors.  If you really believe they are your guardians, why do you not repeat the trick that served you so well in Carteneau and call them down!?" "They will answer, so long as you lavish them on crystals and gorge them on ether.  Your gods are no different than those of the beasts; Eikons, everyone!  Accept but this, and you see how Eorzia's faith is bleeding the land dry.  Nor is this unknown to your masters, which prompts the question: Why do they cling to these false deities?  What drives great men of learning, even the great Louisoix, to grovel at their feet." "The answer?" 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' "Your masters lack the STRENGTH to do otherwise!  For the world of man to mean anything, man must OWN the world..." he says this as something is released from his armor.  Soon, there is a burst of SOMETHING...it certainly is not magic, as the armor of the Garlean burns brightly, and turns gold.   "To this end, he has fought ever to lift himself up through conflict.  To grow rich through conquest.  When the dust of battle settles, it is always the fate of the strong to dictate the fate of the weak.  Knowing this, but a single path is open to the impotent ruler- that of false worship!  Only a man of power can rightly steer the course of civilization, and in this land of creeping mendacity, that one truth will prove its salvation." The gunblade comes down pointing right at the group.  Come, champion of Eorzea, face me!  Your defeat shall serve as proof of my readiness to rule! It is only right that I should take your realm, for none among you has the power to stop me!" With that, he stands ready, perhaps in his arrogance, allowing you all to make the first blow...to take the first strike." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     As Giaus rambles and rants at the party, the Warrior of Light stands in front of him, the Miqo'te mildly dwarfed by the very tall Hyur in his powered armor. But N'raha still exudes that warrior's energy, the Light of Hydaelyn practically slaking off him in waves. He's hot off the defeate of Lahabrea, his armor is caked with soot and smoke and damage, his axe glows with a holy light.     "That little trick at Cartenau, as you call it? It took down Bahamut, sure. But... we don't need that 'trick' again, Gaius. It's just you... and just us. And we're more than enough to handle you. Handle some petty man with a grudge and a very fancy toy." His hands grip his axe, and like most of the other fights so far, the catman leads the charge in at the man.     There's a swing of his axe, a blast of energy lashing out at the Imperial, looking to harass and antagonize, rather than damage. Get the man's attention, and let his friends, his trusted fellow Waarriors of Light handle this. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' At least this time Athela is prepared for how immersive the Bard's song is. So when the next 'chapter' puts them right where the last story left off she's already got one hand on the hilt of her weapon though yet not drawing it. Because this is the point where the opponent lays out his grand intentions in an attempt to sway to his point of view. One that is, while still flawed, not nearly as blindingly self-absorbed as the Asciian before him. There may actually be a point or two in there. But the points are entangled in power-lust and ambition, negating what good they could possibly do. "Man and beast must fight for their own. Gods do not stay their hand from involvement; they bring hope and guidance so they don't -have- to bring their own power to bear. A war amongst gods... Is a thing worlds barely survive on -any- side. But to take that power for oneself?" The power being sucked out of those Primals before did not go unnoticed. "It is no better." Yes, they are basically talking to a memory in a story so there is going to be no real discussion over the matter. But something in voicing her reason for fighting, for serving the godly Legendaries she does and their cause against the Corrupt and Injust, is invigorating resolve in its own right. "Perhaps you would prefer a demonstration." Athela draws her weapon, but instead of lunging headlong into a fray she doesn't know the full capacity of the foe yet, strikes it to the ground and sends a surge of water rushing across the ground towards the armored foe. A low profile attack while he's got airborn ones like the Tomahawk to also worry about. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga has returned for another story, because why not? Everyone loves a good story. A story that sucks you in like this one is rare indeed. It is some kind of magic, no doubt. Indeed, it's not all that different than what she experiences through visions. A touch more vivid, perhaps. Inga limps up behind N'Raha, looking up (waaaaay up) at the philosophizing armored man. It's not a viewpoint she is unfamiliar with. Nor even one she necessarily disagrees with. That is certainly how it was all done in her time. But there's more nuance to leadership. Wisdom, responsibility. This man knows only might. "You scorn the gods because they have clearly not shown you wisdom," Inga says, drawing her seax from her belt. She cuts deeply into her flesh and blood blossoms to the surface, rising into the air. She flicks her knife in N'raha's direction, a ward of protection shimmering around him, buzzing with life. With the blood still gushing from the wound, Inga directs more with her knife, this time toward the armored man, the liquid solidifying into a long spear that seeks out any chink in that armor. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' So here she is once more the bard is here, the stage is set, and she ponders getting N'Raha a good drink after this latest session with the Bard is over. Given the cat mans noting how wildly overblown things are in these stories. She checked her gear once more and took a deep breath as she got ready to handle the latest event they are facing. "Bahamut...." She knows that name but it's likely nothing to do with the Bahamut she knows. She will take a deep breath. "Why do I fight? I wonder that sometimes but then I see things like this. You'd not just run over your world but over as many others as you could with that toy so you know what it's time to stop you here, old man." For her bluster she looks up at Gaius has got this far and she knows it's not going to be an easy fight, she'll chant rapidly and golden runes will dance about her body as she then finishes he spell sending a bolt of flame at the general. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' "How very glib," He responds to Raha, who is a cat of very few words and a large axe.  Though he seems to chuckle at his accusation of what he is, "'Petty man with a grudge', am I?  What does that make you then?  A tomcat looking for a place to die?  A warrior who has lost what it means to fight?" The axe swings in, but gunblade moves to meet it, he tries as hard as he can to meet the blade with his own, as sparks fly as the two weapons collide.  The gunblade does a lot better than expected at parrying the blade, but the sparks from their attack cause the Garlean to stagger just a bit, as the blade bit only barely into that armor.  Given that hit was a lot more powerful of a blow, this was not bad. "The gods of this world do not bring hope, warrior.  They bring despair and false hope.  They bring the shackles of their false worship because they are too weak to fight for their place without it MEANING something.  I fear no gods, with the machine behind me is proof that no matter how powerful or frightening a being can be, we can topple and trap them.  We will be FREE to grasp our destiny." "A demonstraition?  Very well, lets dance champion of the gods!" he shouts towards Athela, as the water surges at him.  Giaus, however, is no slouch, as he turns he fires a shot from the gun on his right hand to try and counter the wave of water aiming to wash over him.  The shot managing the blunt the water's offensive, as it washes over him the damage to his armor and to the person underneath was dramatically weakened.  Giaus looks satisfied, but ready to attack. "I scorn gods because they have no wisdom to show, only slavery and suffering.  Only a web of lies and the clouding of destiny.  If you so willfully submit to them, then you have not the right to rule!" he says, as spears of blood dash at him.   The Gunblade swings in a wide arc, aiming to defend against the spears of blood.  This time, however, the gunblade cuts through all of the spears.  The blood splattering in all directions, except for the direction of hitting the Garlean.   "It depends on if those lands need to be free from false gods, warrior.  The shackle of worship does nothing but control the masses with lies of falsehoods.  Men must needs be strong enough to face the day on their own two feet, instead of relying on the supplication to creatures who live capriciously to men's needs." The fire fires at Giaus, but like with the water, the cannon on his right arm points up, aiming to try and shoot down the oncoming storm of fire, aiming to send it off course so that he can get to the work of cutting these warriors down.  Like before with the water, the fire is disbursed to a point by the cannon shot, but most of it still manages to get through to the Garlean, heating up his armor and causing some pain.   "Good, you at least have some promise of skill, but..." he says, and quickly dashes to one side of the Arena.  he slashes twice as a ball of blue light appears.  It seems to hover there, aiming at Raha.  He vanishes again, once more appearing at another end of the arena.  Once more he slashes, as a second ball of energy starts forming, aiming towards Athela.   He leaps into the air and comes down towards Inga and Tomoe.  The smash was enough to potentially throw both the ground, but the worst part came as a blue fire starts spreading out from around him, aiming to start sticking to clothes like napalm. As he lands, the two blue balls formed dash towards their target, aiming to smash each of them back and fling them away. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga has heard much this before. She always seems to come up against those who have something against gods. Just because she's the chosen of one god, does not mean she will defend all gods. But, having heard one of the goddesses here, knowing at least one of her chosen...Inga can say she's worth defending. "All this submitting to the gods, being slaves to them...I am so tired of it. It shows a lack of understanding on the relationship between gods and men," she replies, annoyed more than anything. It's like hearing Lezard prattle and it raises her hackles just because she hates that bloody man. Inga gasps when Gaius leaps into the air and comes down upon them. She tries to get a ward up around herself before he falls, but she is a moment too slow. She falls. Luckily, she doesn't need to be on her feet to blast him a with a bolt of lightning. She's also slightly on fire, which is inconvenient to say the least! 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is a tank yes she takes a lot of damage fairly well, yet? She does know how to move and void things and she knew how to do so long before the Death Game changed her life forever. She also thinks from some of Gaius' words he might have had some serious conversions with Staren about the topic of Gods. Even with her speed, she's not able to avoid a full hit, she catches part of the attack with her shield which helps direct the blue napalm-like stuff away from her body, even when the heat is pretty bad and leaves her quite toasted even then. She's clearly in a bit of pain, and she is being more aggressive, she preps a sword art and her blade glows white for a moment before she leaps at Gaius hacking and slashing in rapid succession at the memory of the General. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman snarls back at Gaius. "My reasons are my own, and maybe you'll get to find them out, when I send you to the Lifestream." Oh. Oh. That's... there's an unreasonable amount of anger building up in the catman, his aetheric aura spilling out, turning slowly redder and redder as he faces down the man. The flashes of the carnage at the Waking Sands flitters though the cat's mind behind that visor, making his resolve harden.     Which makes it easier for the catman in the Iron Works armor to shoulder through that blast of magitek, the cutting wind slashing and biting at his body, his axe lifting to plunt the attack, but only so much.     But then he's broken through the energy, watching as Gaius starts to lay down the Ceruleum. A moment to wait for an opening, and then he's dashing back in, sweeping around the bleeding awful puddles of bad to swing that axe once more. "No more /words/, Imperial. I'll end you like I did Livia. Now show me your strength." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' As the projectile hurtles towards her Athela digs in with her heels and flips Resolute Blade in her hand so the blade is resting flat along her arm. This allows her to hold it across her front defensively. The energy sphere slams into it, but thanks to the weapon's great durability the impact only makes her skid backwards noticably instead of throwing her across the arena. Tch. Guess she's still not completely back to full capability, story or not. Not like it's going to hold her back. She makes uses of her own agility to leap over the trails of burning chemical released towards the other fighters, using it to also get closer to the enemy's position. As she lands and slides to turn towards Gaius she regrips her weapon in both hands, channeling through. Water starts to ripple around Resolute Blade, but then a surge of energy through the weapon cause the water to quickly boil and fume into heated steam. With the haze engulfing her weapon Athela steps in and swings, propelling the scorching vapors towards Gaius to seep through the armor and get at what likes underneath. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The red aura is not unknown to Gaius, nor the pain and suffering that came to Raha at his subordinate's command.  The woman was very brutal...but at the same time someone who Gaius had become very close to.  For her faults, her loyalty and devotion to him were unwavering...one of which would come to haunt his final project.   Which of course, when he mentions Livia...there is a glow in his mask.  The pearl in his head glowed brightly, as with a burst of the Cat man's axe, he braces with the gunblade...and to his credit, despite the devastating counter-attack he got, he held.   Lightning surges through Gaius next, but this time he weathers it much better, bringing his free hand up to form a magitek shield, as the energy coursed through him, but seems to be grounded slightly.  His visor turns to her.  "Maybe where you are from, but not here.  In the end, I imagine it is very much not so different everywhere else, you just fail to see the truth clouded with your eyes in their grace!" Tomoe dives at Gaius, who blocks her sword with his own gunblade.  The two exchange blows, as a few hits of her sword can manage to barely get through his defense.  He is being pressed, which might be a good sign...or bad if he has anything else to give.   The sword of boiling water sears the armor of the Garlean, driving him back and causing him to let loose a grunt in pain.  Staggering, but not dropping, he is forced back, before he rises to his feet.  Turning to Raha for a moment,  his eyes sear through the Warrior of light for a moment. Then he hunches down, starting to remove the limiters on his armor.  Soon, cerulium fire starts surging all over his armor, before he points the cannon on his arm towards Inga.  A volley of blows follow before he turns the blade and dashes towards Athela. The swing is brutal, aiming to cut down towards her, aiming to cut through her blade before aiming to give her a swift kick backward, and another cut through the air, following through with another blast of that blue fire that charges her. Tomoe gets a single shot of the cannon, but this time it seems more like a burst than the initial blast, aiming to try and send her flying away.  Aiming to make it more difficult for her to get into melee again.   Then he dives in for Raha, the blade swings in repeatedly, aiming to cut through him with each swing.  Aiming to dig into his defenses as he eventually brings the axe into a clench.  They both stare at each other as he speaks.   "I will not defend her actions, I will not blame you for your revenge.  Do not, however, use her name like that.  I give enough respect to you by not taunting you with your loss, do not do the same to me.  This is your one warning, Warrior of light." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The blows rain down on Raha, as his axe comes up time and time again to try and blunt the attack, all the while, pushing forward, trying to keep himself close in on the Imperial. But he's still launching attacks at his friends and allies.     N'raha's eyes narrow as he locks up with Gaius... If he heard the warning he's not showing it, but he does not taunt further. That said, he does smash his axe up against Gaius' sword and arm, looking to shove the man out of place, push him out of his stance. He's got to blunt the attacks. Got to keep the man focused on HIM. Not Inga, not Athela, not Tomoe. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' She can guess not all of Gaius combat abiluity here is the Bard making the tale even more interesting than it was. She wonders though if he's got more to give it could be bad, normally Tomoe is main tank but that look from N'Raha makes her back off on the taunts nd she'll shift to trying to support Inga so she doesn't get turned into street pizza. She keeps herself with in easy reach to intecept attacks on Inga more easily and then she launches into a new series of attacks on the General, this time her blade bursts into white fire as she makes use of it's holy element. She makes note to not taunt Gaius about the dead. She calls out to Inga. "I'll do what I can Inga keep behind me if you need to!" Tomoe keeps forgetting Inga is immortal... 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Weapon clatters against weapon, and while Resolute Blade is durable enough to take the repeated blows against it, but Athela lacks the strength to completely resist the larger and more heavily armored foe. She's forced back with every direct clash, until the abrupt kick in middle of the swings throws her entirely off her foot. She hits the ground hard, wheezing out air painfully. Opting for lighter armor and mobility worked against her that time, and she's barely got time to roll away from the surge of blue flame as Gaius turns his attention back on Raha. She pulls herself to her feet, muttering at her lack of effectiveness in this fight. Then shakes it off. Doubt is not going to help anything. She does however opt to keep her distance, and fling another bolt of pressurized water at Gaius while he's weapon-locked with Raha. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga laughs derisively, shaking her head. "Perhaps not. Are the gods cruel? Sometimes. Do they use us? Absolutely! But why? That is what it comes down to, doesn't it? That is the thing about being Chosen. You must know why. You must always keep that in your mind's eye. The gods use us because if they do not, we will all perish. They need our worship, our sacrifice, because my gods fight to protect us all from calamity. To beat back the things /outside/ that are trying to get in. There's something like that at work here as well, isn't there?" she says, climbing back to her feet with the aid of her staff. Her, facing off against someone like Gaius is so ridiculous. He'll hit her every time. And he does. Hard. Inga throws a blood ward up around herself to soak up some of the damage, but she falls again after just getting to her feet. Which sucks. When Tomoe comes to guard her, Inga appreciates it. "Thank you Tomoe," she says, breathing hard, healing, but too slowly. She needs time to recover her defenses. She tosses another splash of blood toward Gauis, this time a little acid blood toward the eyes, if she can manage it. Mainly, she is using the blood to increase her defenses, or she will not make it to see the end of this. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Axe and gunblade strain against each other, with each blow sparks fly everywhere.  The blades lock, as the Garlean and the Warrior of Light are forced head to head.  The two stare back at each other, one starting to fall to his inner beast, the other fighting for what he believes is the only way to save Eorzia.   The two clash again and again, but each time it seems that Gaius is starting to come out on top, the blades seem to easily deflect the wide swings.  Gaius is conserving his energy while making Raha expend it...despite the odds against him, it appears the Garlean might come out on top, even as a few good swipes get under his defenses.   Tomoe comes in, attempting to also lend aid and keep him from striking at Inga effectively.  The white flaming sword strikes at the Garlean, but this time he was not quite able to bring his sword to defend, as Raha had tied his blade up with the dance they were in.  It cut into the magitek armor, forcing the general back.   This puts him into the way of the water jet from Athela.  The two collide, but despite the coordination of the attack, the gunblade was ready, attempting to cut through the water as it surged over him.  Painfully, he could feel the wounds start to build up, he was being pressed...that was for certain. However, the Cerulium flame that is burning on his armor does not flicker even the slightest, seemingly far more resilient to means to try and extinguish it.  There was a reason it was a popular fuel in many machines, Eorzia and the Empire both. "Foolish," he shakes his head towards Inga.  "Then if you will not see reason, then instead be washed away by the will of man!  You who does not see value in humanity, instead begs the god for the scraps they deem worthy of giving!" he says this... Until a blast of blood comes hurling at him.  He lifts the gun to fire, but it seems she had gotten wise to this tricks, as the blood splits, cutting through the shot and then INTO his chest.  This causes no small amount of pain as he is staggered from the blow.  Talk shit, get hit. However, with Tomoe and Raha deciding to keep him from engaging the dangerous blood cultists, instead, he is forced to deal with them /first/.  This time, he comes back, forcing that Cerulium fire onto his blade, before he leaps towards Tomoe first.  His blade, burning with blue fire, comes down viciously. He attempts to cleave through the woman, aiming each strike viciously and with great precision, before he leaps back, another one of those flaming strikes forming into a X shape and a ball, before flying down towards Tomoe, aiming to send them flying.   As he lands, he unleashes another storm of flame around him, aiming to catch Raha in the wave, aiming to slowly start burning him from the inside out as the shockwave aims to send him flying away too.   Then he points the gunblade at Inga, and then Athela, each shot is patiently taken, each one aiming to try and catch each one in the chest, aiming to lead the way until his next strike, aiming to weaken their defenses. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The blast wrecks Raha right in the damn face, his body crunching backwards into the stone and steel, diging up furrows of material, driving him and his armor back even as he's doused with awful chemical flames. This isn't good at all. Not even in the slightest.     But that's not about to stop the Warrior of Light. There's a flashover of energy from the catman, as he steps in again, carrying himself and his bleeding, flaming self right into Gaius' face again. There continues to be a lack of words from Raha, his red eyes and scorched face all the reaspone he has for the Imperial now. That axe comes up and around, and starts to harry at Gaius with quick strikes, swipes and jabs, trying to force him backwards and away from the rest of the party. Every motion a response, as he works to maintain control of the fight. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is shot in the chest. It lays her out flat. It is extremely painful, and she is most certainly starting to look like she's having a bad day. She'd bleeding from multiple wounds, and just keeps getting hit before any can significantly heal. But she's still kicking, metaphorically speaking. She sits up. She's more or less given up on being standing for this fight. It doesn't actually matter anyway. "You're not /listening/ you woolheaded windbag!" she says, tired of beind compared to a slave, to a dog, to any number of unflattering things simply because she refuses to forsake her gods. She is Chosen. She is volva. She has told the deaths of kings and great warriors and bathed in the blood of a hundred sacrifices. She is tired of all this direspect. Inga turns her eyes toward Gaius--eyes that are black as the space between the stars. Her voice is thunderous. "Gaius Van Baelsar, all the strands of your fate are about to be severed. There is but only one path that remains to you now," she pronounces, a fiery glow surrounding her. A rather large ball of fire flies from her, barreling toward Gaius. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' She has somewhat got used to the Bard and wonders what if the man found a way to share his stories like someone might share a movie. She'd think more on that later as it feels just too real, and yet she knows it's not. Still, she fights on she wants to see how far she can push herself for this, as she moves to help pen him in. She's scored a hit she knows the general is not finished yet, and that's why she's not laid out on the floor the savage blow slams into her and does knock her off her feet, her wings flare out helping to slow her back and lets her make a landing before she vanished but the blow has left a large portion of her appearing to be red wireframes and they do not warp back to normal. Tomoe's also clearly looking to be in pain right now. "Damn..." She has her blade in hand again she has a plan, but she must live a bit longer to pull it off and she'll launch herself again at Gaius in attack which is a distection in an attempt to shield slam him. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Admist the chaotic fight Athela attempts to refocus herself, drawing inward with her powers instead of out. Elemental energy starts to ripple around her, briefly giving the appearance of looking at her as if underwater. But then it bursts much like a water bubble as the shot hits, sending droplets splattering in all directions. It lessened the force of the attack, but she lost whatever she was trying to reshore her defenses with. Once again she found herself at the very end of her proverbial rope. She couldn't take another hit like that, or hit at all at this point. She sucked in a few ragged breaths, willing up the last of the strength that she could. Exhaustion was already rippling through her body, spirit bruised as much as flesh was. Yet it refused to simply bow beneath his triades. If this was to be the end of the fight for her, then she was going to make it count. With a gritted growl of final determination heels kicked off the ground and Athela launched into motion despite her wounded state. She had nothing to say, no witty retorts to make. Her god was not one of debate and mockery, but of action. Elemental energy churned up around her as she surged forward, and for an instance as she barreled down upon Gaius seemed to take the visual of great equine, like some blend of unicorn and kelpie lowering it's head into the charge. And the horn being the energy sheath around her blade driving forward. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Raha attempts to push himself into Gaius way again.  This time, however, he was ready for the catman.  The two clashed again, Gunblade and Axe causing sparks as the very ground around the two shake and splits at their power.   "This is the power of a ruler!  Yet you waste it on protecting those fools who do not have the strength of a ruler.  Such a waste.." he says, seeing through the next attack, and pushing through, the gunblade tearing through the axe as he steps through towards... The fire sears the armor, threatening to bake him alive, but the flames of the Cerulium protect him, burning too brightly to be silenced so easily.  There is a burst of them, as Inga's fire is thrown aside in all directions like a walking fireball, as he starts walking forward towards her.   "Who are you to dictate my fate?  A worshiper of false gods?  A dog to their whims?!  Nay I say, blood cultists!  I shall not be daunted by the likes of you!  Your all of your claim of power, your gods do not strike me down.  I stand to them, and to you and laugh!" Until a shield smashes him in the mouth.  Talk shit, get hit his still in effect.  Staggering, the man looks up towards Tomoe.  "Very well then," he says to her and moves to meet her strike... Until the furrious assault from Athela comes in.  Surging into the body of the Garlean, something seems to stop the assault of the horn of the charging elemental.  The elemental power surges through him, threatening to consume his body completely... Then he pushes back, back against that great power staring into Athela's eyes.  "You too, have the strength of a Ruler.  Much like his, yours is similarly a shame that you waste it like this.  Defending those who can not defend themselves.  Keeping a rotten rule together...allowing yourself to worship beings who do not deserve you.." Gaius then shifts, turning around and swinging the blade in a wide arch through the horse, aiming to cut through it, and the blade extends, aiming to slice through Athela too.   Not stopping, he turns, firing a shot from the Gunblade towards Raha, and a shot from the Hand of the Emperor towards Tomoe.  Each shot aiming to drive them back as he walks towards Inga.   "Now, allow me to be the one to sever your fate here.  Before I do, I shall know your name, fool." Giving her just enough time to answer, as he thrusts the blade down towards her, aiming to impale her body on the end of the gunblade.   "I want something to put on your tombstone, besides 'Blood Cultist.'" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Power of a Ruler is something that Raha has heard quite enough of. His eyes water with the arrogance of it. His body aches with the pains of battle, his grip loosening with each swipe of that gunblade, his ears and tail scorched and singed, the smell of burnt flesh and fur acrid clinging to him.     But he's held Gaius at bay, long enough for his squad to rally behind him, to unleash their power. And he could FEEL the energy of Gaia rolling off of Inga behind him, as that smiting ripples in. He can feel the power of the Buzzing writhe through his body with the bond he's got with the Seer, his fellow Chosen. It's whats kept him and her alive. Even through massive blasts. Even through... all of this.     The red aether starts to bleed from his eyes, casting a haze around the pair of dueling Warlords. But it suddenly flashes over to a blue. A clear blue. A shining, horrible, awestruck Crystal Blue. "My name is Raha, Warrior of the N'. Warrior of Light. Chosen of Hydaelyn. And I am here to prevent the tragedy of your rule." He grips Bravura, the ancient weapon glowing, sizzling with energy as he whips it around, brings it in a massive cleaving, revolving strike, aiming to shatter armor and sword and man in one swift stroke. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe looks to Gaius for a moment and makes ready but then come Athela, the young fighter prove she can do quite a good deal of damage but its' not enough to stop the general. She makes use of this action, it gives Tomoe time to make ready, and this is why she's not turned into a smear from the upcoming strike she moves to bring up the mourning wall to intercept it helps somewhat but Magitek weapons are not something Tomoe has had to deal with too much. Even if one might consider her whole existence and powers to be more or less the same thing at this point. "So this is what an Imperial General can do..." Tomoe isn't quite out of it yet, she starts to act readying a spell she chants again golden runes dance about her body again. The then finishes and will let loose with a focused blast of wind at the Gaius, that's just the set up she now triggers a chain of sword arts and launches herself with everything she can muster. She chains several rapid-fire ones together, making a storm of blades and just does not seem intent to let up on Gaius as if she does? She knows they are all going to go down very soon. "STORM OF BLADES!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is impaled. It's not the worst way she's died. Though, it seems--somehow-- she's still alive. She laughs, blood gurgling up and dripping from her mouth even as she speaks. "I am Inga Freyjasdottir, wisewoman of Uppsala. I only give you the knowledge that these are you last moments. My fate does not end here. It marches unnervingly forward into madness," she informs him, her voice hoarse and wet with blood. Blood that she can use against him even to the end. She flicks a spear of blood upward, aimed right for the slit in the visor of his helmet. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Even with the phenominal force put into the attack, drawing as much on the spirit to keep fighting on despite being overwhelmed as it is physical strength, the mighty counterswing slices into the manifestation with little difficulty. Athela tries to twist away from the strike even knowing she can't evade it at such close proximity. All it does is catch the gunblade in her side where her midweight armor is still strongest, and that is still enough to catch and throw her out of the attack. Hurtling across the arena before she finally hits the ground and rolls. She groans audible, pressing a hand to the floor and lifting herself up a little. Just enough to raise her head and look right towards Gaius, and lift her blade upward. "Defend the defenseless; strengthen the weak. The Swords of Justice shall always stand up for those whom cannot!" You may have batterned her body to the brink, but not the cause she strives for. Your words will not sway this Champion from her fate. Stubborn defiance is all she had left though, and after that Athela keels over on her side with a heavy, heaving breath. The physical body just can't keep up with the fighting spirit this time. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The power of the attack throws Gaius back, cleaved by the powerful blade of aether and steel.  Catching himself, he just barely manages to stay on his feet.  Blood can be felt running down his armor, it was a powerful blow...and if he took another like that, he would be finished.   However, Tomoe would not give him the time to rest and recover, as soon as he was clear of Raha, he was facing down a storm of blades.  He kept up, for all of his efforts, managing to keep up with the sword art.  The Two collide, Gunblade and blade, and while a few good cuts get through, nothing as devastating as Raha's blade manages to catch him this time.   Only for a stream of blood attempting to pierce him again.  This time Heirsbane to fire, disbursing the blood, and some of it goes for his face, but there is no grate.  It is Garlean technology, which the blood has a hard time trying to get in and kill...it does, to its credit, crack under the force of the blow, revealing a single eye to which to stare at her.   A few moments pass, and the General places the gunblade on his back.  "I did not think to be so hard pressed.  Well, then I suppose I have found no better place than here, and no stage than now to test the might of the Weapon," he says, walking away towards the monster behind them all.   Soon, he is on top of it, sliding into the controls, as the monster comes to life.  It's eye glowing, as it takes a few steps forward... A dark ripple appears...next to the Ultima weapon the Ascian from before, apparently back in full health.  Lahabrea laughs, "It appears these troublesome adventurers are even pushing you back, Great General." "Lahabrea, what do YOU want?" "Only to help, there is a power that yet sleeps in the Ultima weapon, one that you have now just awakened with the power of the Eikons...allow me to show you it, as a gift." "What are you playing at Ascian?!" he says, as one of the claws moves to swing towards the already disappearing Ascian. "I talk of the Heart of Sabik.  A relic ancient even during the time of Allag...but now..." With that, the words of the Ascian, the Ultima weapon seems to glow.  Brightly, dangerously...with an Aether off the /scales/.  Everyone can feel the massive amount of energy surging off of it. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' BGM Change: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MdflqnTvsgo "From the deepest pit of the seven hells to the very pinnacle of the heavens, the world shall tremble! Unleash Ultima!" Lahabrea says, with an almost maniacal tone... And then the Ultima weapon grips at its chest, before slamming down on all fours and arching back.  A massive surge of power is unleashed, lines of magical power gather along the entire area, as finally, a massive surge of pure magical destructive power surges up into the sky...and then back down in a stream of ultimate destructive magic.   However, like before, the gentle light of Hydelan glows.  The mother Crystals resonates with each and every one of you, as a shield appears above your heads.  The ultimate magic means the ultimate defensive magic.  The explosion is blinding... The light clears.   The entire area is devastated, magical energy is radiating everywhere, burning the earth like a wildfire.  Your area is protected, and then the Ultimate weapon changes.  Glowing with that same light of Ultima, it glows light green and gold, as it arches back.  Two wings of the same light as before spring from it back as it prepares itself. "Gaius, our enemy shield is broken, I leave the rest to you.." "Such devastation...I did not wish such a thing.." a stunned Gaius says taken aback, and then angry, "We shall have words later, Ascian...but for now, the question of who is stronger remain.  Come, warriors of light...let us find the answer to that together!" However, as the camera pans, as there are so many shots of you before the Ultima weapon...the song slowly comes to an end, and once more you realize you are not actually fighting, but in a tavern listening to a very talented bard.  with the story of what comes next having to wait until next week. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The fight has been hard she expects the pain train to be pulling in shortly. It doesn't quite pull in in the way she expected it to do so. Gaius seems hard pressed, Lahabrea shows up again and Gaius pulls out that machine which really looks like it's bad news. Tomoe has no magic in the sense of this world but even she can feel the power coming, she somehow doe snot get flattened by it, yet it seems the Ultima weapons is very much ready for a fight, also everything is on fire she looks up at it. "So this is how we end it? All right General let's finish this..." Tomoe got a bit too into it as the world fades back into the tavern and she looks about for a moment shaking her head a bit. "Geeeze how does he do that?" She knows at best she'll get a smirk or a non-answer but it had to be said. "As for the rest of you? Dinner on me?" 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore rubs her head briefly. "Still can't get over how -real- those stories feel." It was just a story but she still feels like she actually went through that hell. "And the next chapter looks to be... Ominous." But the ominous feeling is broken by the mention of food. "Dinner after that sorray would be a fine idea." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga reaches up to rub her temples. She has a completely unrelated nosebleed. "It is something, isn't it? A wonderful sort of magic," she replies. The mention of dinner is appealing. "I will accept that offer Tomoe. How kind of you," she responds with a small smile. She looks toward N'Raha. "Are you alright?" she asks. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman just wilts a little bit, and sighs, slipping out of his chair long enough to crack his back in a rather feline manner, a little click of his fangs in frustration at his exhaustion. Though...     There's a deeper hardness to his face than there was before the night started. His tail's also fluffed out in a way he's not easily putting back into place. "...Yeah, just... brought back some bad memories." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods, reaching over to give his shoulder a brief squeeze. "Perhaps food and drink will help. I find it helpful whenever I'm recovering from a vision--and that is almost what this is, isn't it?" Inga reaches into the small pouch at her waist. Her arm disappears inside up to the elbow. After a few moments digging, she pulls out a chocolate bar, which breaks into several pieces and distributes. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore frowns a little, but Raha says he's otherwise okay, and she can understand the 'bad memory' explaination after seeing the way he went into Angry Red mode or whatever it's called. Though something still nags a little at her. "Is it just me because I was still reeling from that blow, but was the man almost... distraught over the level of destruction the Ascian triggered with the weapon?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha takes the chocolate bar, and with a mild huff slides his chair over next to Inga. Chosen have to stick together. "It's... complicated. Gaius wanted to conquer Eorzea to eliminate... all of the 'Eikons'. But he didn't want to destroy it like the guy before him did."     A bite of his chcolate, and his tail lashes a bit more, his ears fluffing. "The guy who dropped Dalamud on Eorzea and caused the last Calamity." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sighs. "It was not just you. He did seem upset. He was manipulated, but he would not want to see it. Then he would need to admit that he is not above being used by beings beyond his ken," she replies, taking a small bite of chocolate. "I think...were circumstances different, he might not have turned out so terrible," she muses. "You all fought very well though. Who knew I was surrounded by such warriors?" she smiles. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore nods her head at the explainations. "I see. So he was a man with purpose... but it got obscured, and misused, but ambition and machinations of others." She massages her temple a little, and takes off her headpiece so it stops rubbing against a sore spot. It's set aside, and she takes the offered bit of chocolate. "Thank you, milady. For both the treat and the compliment." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's ears perk up at the compliment at least, and he looks to Athela. "I just wish he could have properly seen that... before... well."     He sips his beer. "You'll see next week, I guess. Or maybe you won't. I'm not sure exactly how he's going to end this version of the story." A roll of those crystal green eyes, and he finally starts to un-puff. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods graciously to Athela, who has just won brownie points by being respectful. She gets another piece of chocolate. "I suppose we shall. I know it is not exactly how it transpired, but it is interesting to see how it all turns out. I think perhaps the skald struggles to fit me into his story," she chuckles. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     At Inga though, Raha perks his ears up again, and then smiles. "Honestly? I think he takes it as a challenge to make sure everyone fits into his stories. I mean..." He noms on his chocolate and takes a breath. "He enjoys telling stories big, but the good guys usually win out in the end." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods, looking mostly amused. "It is no real stretch for most of you, but I am no great warrior," she says, waving a hand flippantly. "I'm sure your allies in the real fight were...sturdier." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "There seems to be little issue with accomidating my abilities." Though elemental magic is hardly unusual here. So Athela is okay either way, other than not using her Pokemon. But whatever magic the Bard weaves his tales through might not work so well on such creatures so she hasn't tried. In hindsight, not having one to assist in defending her is probably why she got clobbered so hard by that one attack. So learning experience. She accepts the second piece of candy. "Do not sell yourself short. We do not all need to be warriors to make a difference... Besides, you lasted longer than I did." Though she did kinda get a little overly risky on that last bombastic attack. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Another swish of his tail, and Raha just mmmmhs. "On the contrary. We had a very talented thaumaturge in our party, as well as a Scholar." A look to Inga. "And scholars call forth ancient beings of light to heal and prevent damage to their allies... while also choking out their enemies in magical miasma and foul aethers."     A pointed look to Inga, and a mumble around some chocolate that sounds vaguely like 'and who does that sound like?' 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga waves it off. "It is my healing and my wards that kept me alive--and Tomoe and N'raha," she says, nodding to them. N'raha's grumble gets an eyeroll. "But I suppose I have learned some useful tricks," she concedes with a shrug. "I'm also fond of lightning," she adds, almost sheepishly. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Versatility and variety is the strengths of any good adventure party," Athela agrees. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe has been chilling out for the most other are chatting gor the moment. "Me I just play one on TV." Making a very earth joke that hits her a second later no oner else would get. "I'm still wondering where all of this is going. IT was a team effort." 
}}

6273/Heavensturn 2019

2018-12-29T05:27:28Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/12/28 |Location=The Mist, Eorzea |Synopsis=Raha hosts a party for Heavensturn |Cast of Characters=819, 6704, 6655, 6764, 994 |pretty=yes }} {{..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/12/28
|Location=The Mist, Eorzea
|Synopsis=Raha hosts a party for Heavensturn
|Cast of Characters=819, 6704, 6655, 6764, 994
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Welcome to The Mist. It's a coastal city out on the edge of Limsa Lominsa, one of the three largest cities in Eorzea. It's a place for Free Companies and Notable Heroes to find a place to live, to stake their claim on the world and take part in the fine tradition of Home Ownership. And it's here that the Party Is Taking Place.     If you want the big, big, big parties, you're going to have to go other places this weekend. As Starlight and Heavensturn mingle together at the end of the season, the big big Free Companies are at their big estates, shooting off fireworks, getting drunk in the streets and generally being rather bawdy. But Raha's party? It's down on the coast at the beach. The currents are warm along the Mist, which keeps the chill of winter away from the place, which means that light clothes are still proper attire, it seems.     There's chairs, there's umbrellas, there's a set of large bonfires, and there's food and booze. Looks like it's pretty well open. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty had made her way here in warm winter clothing (even though she is pretty resistant to high or low tempuratures), but once here and realizing it was so warm AND on a beach, she bought a swimsuit from a nearbuy shop and changed before hitting the beach. She remembers N'Raha from the Minstral's adventure, and so is looking for both him and Solomon. Apparently the android girl is somewhat self-conscious, because she bought a one-piece suit that is green in color rather than a two-piece. She collects some food as she looks and nibbles politely. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's more than enough food, that's for sure. Raha seems to have either catered or ordered food for a large shindig or perhaps even a small soiree. That said, the catman himself is wandering down the hill from his place, carrying another large pot of something steaming and good smelling. "Hooooy! Find a spot, Happy Heavensturn!" He waves his tail, and plants the pot down at the edge of one of the bonfires to keep warm. "Hows it going Miiiiiiiiss Solty?" He grits his teeth a bit, trying to place the name. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     A very disgruntled Solomon is busy trying to imbibe the stronger alcoholic beverages. He's got his rather bulky armor on even for the party, looking rather out of place among the other patrons who are in their respective swimsuits. He's slightly buzzed even before he bothers looking around for Raha and Solty -- who ostensibly were the two reasons he came here in the first place... 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Solomon, for his trouble, will get a sigh from Raha, who tosses a fist sized mochi cake at his face. "Oy, get out of the armor, enjoy yourself, it's a party! Welcome to The Mist!" 

:'''{{#var:6764|Doctor Strange (6764)}} has posed:'''      Doctor Stephen Strange is just Here. A hole burnt in reality reveals his approaching silhouette, as well as the cosy study of the Sanctum Sanctorum. It closes behind him. Dressed in his usual mystic finery, the Sorcerer Supreme wordlessly helps himself to the offerings before socializing. One hand holds a plate, the other a pewter mug.      "Happy Heavensturn," rumbles the gravelly man to passers-by. 'What the hell accent is that?' they may well ask themselves. "Happy Heavensturn, Happy Heavensturn," he mutters in passing to each, an expert schmoozer from his gala-going days. Given the rich, red cloak and distinctive high collar, he makes an easy figure to pick out for both Solomon and Raha.      "Hey, fellas," offers the sorcerer to the two partygoers he's personally met. He's not dressed lightly, but looks no less comfortable for it. Sssip. He also takes a moment to introduce himself to Solty, giving the full name and title. Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme. Given his hands are full, he can't really offer a shake, but he gives his best and most courteous nod. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     To think these Adventurers can afford housing of their own, not to mention being allowed to by the government in hopes of keeping them local and active against threats. Tch. The governers back home could learn a few things from Eorzea, if they bothered to look past their own fat noses.     But we are not here for that, we are here to relax. Something Athela definately needs as of late. It takes her a few minutes to find the proper place on the beach and finally walk up. "Good eve!", she greets with a wave to Raha, as the catman is the only person she immeadiately reconizes. Honestly, she doesn't mind a small party. It feels more like home that way. Especially when it's at the shore. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Let it never be said that Local Adventurers haven't seen their share of Strange Thaumaturges and Eccentric Arcanists. That said, a fellow in full cloak and robes, floating while double fisting a kebab and a cider is new for some of them, and Strange might spot some... stange folks. A squardon of 3 and a half foot tall smallfolks, a passle of catgirls, some beefy Big Folks, and of course, humans and elves. All in all, your typical Adventuring World, maybe.     The Warrior of Light looks up at Athela and Strange though, and makes a lazy salute with a kebab of his own. "Nice to see the both of you. Fireworks should be starting soon. Welcome to Eorzea, Doctor." A grin, and a fluff up of those ears. Hey, playing host is one thing that he's good at and it doesn't require him to kill people. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     "BWARRGALREHWGLHLGL!" That's the sound of Solomon trying to speak through the mochi toss, mean-spirited disgruntlement giving way to light-hearted disgruntlement as he takes the hint and joins the people he'd come here to see. The armor stays on, though. "Oh. Right, sorry Raha. Preoccupied with... yeah, let's party. How's life fighting gods?" So it would seem he's terrible at small talk, especially while uptight.     "Ah -- Solty! You... are in a swimsuit." Solomon blinks a couple times before shaking himself back to his senses. "Ah--can you even eat things? Do androids need to eat?" Okay, still terrible at small talk and introductions. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty waves happily to Solomon and N'Raha when she sees them. "Hello Mister N'Raha and Mister Solomon!" She jogs over to them quickly and bows politely at the waist before smiling to them. "Thank you for inviting me! Roy said I could come as long as no one got too drunk and I didn't drink any alcohol. We can't prove it, but we are pretty sure I'm too young to drink."      She also raises a hand to wave to Doctor Strange and Athela Valemore. "Hello! Nice to meet you both. I'm Solty Revant!" 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     For a moment Athela's attention does shift to Strange, when Raha adresses him as 'Doctor'. "He does look the part of a scholar," she muses to herself, and gives a polite nod to the well adorned man before turning her attention back to Raha.     "I am afraid that due to various *cough* events," Stupid Registeel nearly killing her, "I did not have time for proper gifts for the holiday past." She reachs into her pack and pulls out a packaged bundle, holding it towards Raha. "So I brought you some fish jerky. My family runs a fishery in Bugen City, it is one of their specialties." 

:'''{{#var:6764|Doctor Strange (6764)}} has posed:'''      Strange chastely chews on the kebab. He takes the not-Tolkien diaspora in stride. "Mist is nice this time of year," he says between bites, nodding at Raha. Well, that must be why, right there. He sniffs, taking a look around. Looks like he and Solomon are the odd fellows out when it comes to attire. In the blink of an eye, it's just Solomon.      Somehow, Strange has changed clothes seamlessly in front of everyone. He now wears flip-flops, white cargo shorts, and a loose-fitting, breathable waistgown with an elaborately patterned paisley print. He looks like the intersection of beach bum and hippie, which, considering the rose gold medallion upon his chest, is probably exactly what he was going for.      "Nice to meet you, Solty," says Strange to the android. And when Athela arrives, he raises his kebab in greeting. "Hi. Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme." Yes, he really does repeat the greeting in front of everyone else.      "I got you something, too," says Strange, lying through his teeth. He totally forgot to get Raha something, but, he does have access to an interdimensional library. Raha is given a copy of 'A Christmas Carol,' with the hopes that he hasn't already gotten a copy himself. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha hears the magic word from Athela, and his ears perk up, along with his tail. "Oooooh. Fish." Oy, he's allowed, don't laugh. He leans over and sniffs at the package and then takes it, shuffling it into...     Well, it had to go somewhere, but where's the pockets that can fit something like that on his outfit? Hhhmmmmm.     Strange likewise gets a smile, and Raha takes that present as well. "Oh. Hey. I'll take a look, thanks! Sorry I hadn't gotten to it before, it's been a weird few days. Well, and the holidays." A blink. "I'd ask if you wanted a seat but you seem comfortable like that..." The Beach Bum Supreme looks dudely relaxed at least.     Solty and Solomon are getting accquainted with the others, which gives Raha time to secret away the book, and also shuffle over to the bonfire to stir the pot. He lifts up a bit, and... oh. It's meatballs with skewers already in them. Fancy.     Wait, how is there Swedish Meatballs with no Sweden? 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     Athela smiles as Raha accepts the gift. She's familiar with 'adventurer inventory' so the tucking away in seemingly noplace isn't all that weird.     She turns back to Strange as he gives a full introduction. "Ah. I have heard you speak on occasion on the communication device." She's not clad in her usual armor and gear, but her much more plain cloak is still present to give a bit of a flutter as she bows to the man. "Dame Athela Valemore, Knight Errant and Champion of Keldeo, Sword of the Tides." See he's not the only one with long fanciful titles. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty nods to Solomon on both points and even turns so he can see her swimsuit from all sides. "It is a beach party, after all. Swimsuits are required! ...at least, that's what Kasha says." One of Solomon's questions is answered merely by Solty taking bites out of things like any normal person would and chewing quietly with a smile on her face. "My body turns food into energy just like anyone else's." she adds for Solomon's benefit. She looks to Strange after that. "You're a doctor? Like, in a hospital or in a college?" 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     "Ah! I'm.... out of place." Solomon takes far more time to change than Strange does, hefting off his armor manually to reveal that he /did/ arrive in swim trunks. He places his armor and weapons someplace safe nearby, and does his best to not look as tense as he is. "There we go. Now. Yes. Gifts." He has a rather full pouch with him, and looks to Solty first. He pulls out a few runes: half of them have markings resembling gusts of wind, while the other half have markings resembling a human face and seeming to represent the mind. "Here you go, Solty! You said you were interested in magic, so I'd like you to have these runes. You should be able to cast a basic wind spell even without any prior experience. Give it a try! You can cast one against me if you'd like - it won't hurt me with just those runes."     He then turns toward the Sorceror Supreme. "Apologies for jumping in back at the museum. What in the heck /was/ that magic you were using? I could barely even keep from puking from all the bizarre geometry." 

:'''{{#var:6764|Doctor Strange (6764)}} has posed:'''      "Neurosurgeon," says Strange to Solty, taking a hearty swig of whatever's in that mug. "Not a... practicing one. Not anymore." He shrugs lightly, tapping the now meatless kebab skewer against his shorts, he lifts it up to scrutinize it. "Changed careers."      Turning from Solty to Athela, who he imagines to be more cognizant of the intricacies of food etiquette, he poses a question.      "What're you supposed to... do... with these? Never understood that." He gives her a 'you know what I'm saying' kind of squint, tapping the kebab against his leg once more. "What, do I... put it in my pocket? Let it puncture my femoral artery?" He scoffs. "Then what've you got? Artery kebab." And Solomon thinks /he's/ bad at making small talk.      "No, but--seriously, it's a pleasure to meet you, Dame Valemore." As a knight, she's in good company. He likes most of those that he's met, with one possible exception. We might call her the Ruler that proves the exception exists?      Solomon's apology gets a scoff from Strange, which might send the wrong message until he actually speaks up. "C'mon," he says. "That? That's just a scuffle. It's not like you're... trying to take over the world, or something. You feel like you satisfied your code of honor, back there?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha looks up to Strange's comments. "Ah, there's a bucket around here somewhere, just toss em in there. I've got my ladies that will come around and clean for me. The joy of being a commander, you can put people on Field Duty." A knowing grin from the catman, as he shuffles out a smaller pot of toothpicks and meatballs. "Right, this should be the last of the meat, Alliana should be down with the rest of the Mochi and stuff too."     And with his catering Duty Complete, the catman stretches a bit, and shuffles around to swat Solomon on the back. "Yes, please, no taking over Eorzea. We've got enough jerks trying that already."     Solty gets another look... and then the catman tosses her a bottle. It's something fizzy and orange, and if opened, it's actually, in fact, fizzy Orange Juice. "I'd explain more, but, well. this is a party, and my boss isn't here so I don't have to worry about things." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     The 'neuro' part is lost to her but Athela at least knows what 'surgeon' means. "A man of medicine as well as sorcery then." Even if 'not practicing'. "That certainly takes great skill to accomplish." Followed by a brief soft chuckle. "You would be better off using it to skewer more food."     Speaking of which, she still needs to sample some for herself. Raha is right on time in that regard with the meatballs. "You have certainly provided well for your guests," she comments as she pinches a toothpick between two fingers to take a meatball. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty blinks in surprise as she is given some runes. She puts down her food before taking them, holding them in both hands with a happy smile. "Thank you Mister Solomon!" she says, then looks at the runes. "...um...how do I use them?"      Strange answers her and Solty listens with interest. "What happened?" she asks. "Did magic seem like a better career?" She looks at the kebab skewer he is holding and thinks a moment. "I think you are supposed to return them to the cooking fire so they can have the germs burned off and then they can be reused." And then N'raha speaks up. "Oh...um...or that!" she says, smiling sheepishly. The toss of the bottle makes her flail and all her runes go flying before she catches the juice. She is still a moment before she giggles and starts collecting the runes from the sand. "Yes! It's a very nice party, Mister N'Raha!" she agrees with Athela. 

:'''{{#var:6764|Doctor Strange (6764)}} has posed:'''      "Ah..." Use the stick to skewer more meat? Hm. He gives a shrug of concession, nodding at Athela. "Yeah." Despite this, he throws the current skewer away and gets a new one for a new kebab. As he eats it, Solty will notice he has to take his time more than others do--his hand trembles just enough to be noticeable.      Did magic seem like a better career? "I kinda fell into it by accident," admits Strange. He then... pauses, emerald eyes flicking upwards as he considers that combination of words. A small, sardonic grin appears. "I like it, though," he adds, his expression brightening. "It's a challenge." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha smiles and poses for the girls. Actually, a straight up V-sign across the eyes. "Hoy. I'm not the King of Parties yet, but I can work on it." A grin. "Besides, I /can/ cook for fancy hoity toity stuff, but like... it's hard to eat an auroch filet while you're trying to play beach bowling or dodge stuff. You..." and his accent shifts to something much more befitting the Not-Tolkien-ian aspect. "Must needs be prcise and proper when engaging in courtly dining and entertainment." A snooty laugh...     And then Raha's back. "Pfff sorry. If you guys want something REALLY fancy I'll do it up some other time."     And as he's chatting, another person comes down the hill, carrying a massive basket. She is quite possibly as tall as you can make a human lady and not look entirely out of place. Her dark skin contrasts with the frilly tube top she's wearing, though the long sweeping dress is much more demure. "Hooooy, boss. Got the rest!" She starts though, seeing the crowd of Offworlders. "Oh. Oh! You didn't say we were going to be having nobs, sir, or I'd have gotten right fancy!" She nearly salutes the crowd, but stops short of letting go of the mochi. That gets placed on the table, and THEN she salutes. "Storm Sergeant Alicia Bitters, making delivery of the food product, sah!"     To say it's strange seeing a 6 foot tall human saluting a catman that's a half foot shorter than her? Says something. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     "Ah. Yeah. I'm good." Solomon responds to Strange's inquiry rather awkwardly. "That guy loves causing trouble for himself, so I don't think I'll bother bailing him out again. Way more trouble than it's worth." Then he comes back with an inquiry of his own. "What was up with the kid with the spider-like powers, though? I have this feeling he belonged there less than I did, and that's saying something."     Solty's question about how to use the runes comes unexpectedly to Solomon. "What do you mean? The runes? You just, you know, use them." Suddenly realizing not everyone lives in a world of runes and can instinctively use them, Solomon elaborates. "Right, you draw the magic forth from the runes, and form it into the spell you want to cast. The most basic spell is a slight gust of wind, but with practice you can learn all sorts of spells, both combat-oriented and peaceful." He demonstrates a basic wind strike by launching a gust out toward the ocean... and fluttering a few wardrobes in the process. Oooooops. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty tilts her head in curiousity as Doctor Strange seems to have a bit of trouble with his skewers, but she smiles when he says he likes his new career. "What does a Sorcerer Supreme do, anyway?" she asks as she finishes collecting dropped runes. Solty's eyes widen as Alicia arrives. She's never seen such a tall woman! She dwarfs Solty by comparison, who is only a few inches above 5 feet. "...wooow..." she says softly before smiling brightly. "Hello, I'm Solty Revant! Thank you for the food!" she says to Alicia.      Solomon's attempted lesson about magic draws a few question marks from Solty. She watches him perform a spell, then looks down at her runes. "Let's see...draw the magic...form it...then..." She tries to do so, but...nothing happens. She has literally no experience with magic, much less rune-based magic. Her ears droop and she lets out a disappointed 'aww'. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The gust of wind gets at least two targets. Raha's shirt blows all the way open, showing off more than a little of his body. Not that he minds, though he does put a hold on that necklace, just in case.     Alicia, however, takes a full blast, and her skirt blows up to show off her sturdy legs and some stompy sandals. She huff puffs, glares a bit at Solomon, and takes one of the big mochi cakes for herself. "Oy! Careful! You might get an eyefull twixt things you ain't supposed to!"     That said, the lady salutes Solty too, and brushes her dress down into place again. "Nice to meet'cha! Yer the moppet, right? The thinkin' artifice?" The words come out excited-like, and the girl swats her chest. "I'm a machinist, a gunner, so i get interested in the workin's of fiddly bits." 

:'''{{#var:6764|Doctor Strange (6764)}} has posed:'''      Strange gives a legitimately warm smile to Solomon, a stark contrast to his usually deadpan demeanor. "Then it's nothing," he says with a surprised laugh. "You satisfied your thing, I did mine, we both move on. /God/ I wish other people were as sensible as you!" He looks like he's just been given a really great Christmas present.      "Oh, you mean 'Spider-Man?' No, we're both locals, believe it or not. From the same city, even." He assumes Solomon means he seems like he's from another world. "I mean... not /that/ city, specifically. A different one." He disposes of the second skewer, finishing his drink. It's possible he means something else, but the sorcerer would prefer not to divulge too much without being asked.      Strange's breezy waist-gown flaps, but the sorcerer himself is Unflappable. Solomon gave ample warning he was going to Magic, after all!      "I protect Earth against mystical threats. Vampires, dark wizards, dimensional entities, so on, so forth." Even the tall, thin wizard is in the shadow of Alicia. He doesn't seem to mind this, though 'nob' does draw a wrinkled nose. "Hey," he says to Solty. "Don't get discouraged. Keep at it," he mutters to her. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore just looks confused at the shift in conversation. "What's a moppet?", she asks while helping herself to some of the mochi. Sampling the local fair was all part of getting to know another culture better! Helps that it's actually tasty besides that. Her cloak fluttered a bit with the air bursts but it's the only loose piece of clothing she's wearing right now. "Mmm. Don't know about vampires, but we seem to share some types of foes, Doctor." 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty blinkblinks in confusion. "...moppet?" she asks, not familiar with the term. Thinkin' artifice makes sense enough, but Solty hesitates before nodding lightly. "Yes, though we do not know who made me." she says. The gust of wind may have caught Solty, but all it does is make her twin ponytails flutter.      Strange encourages her regarding the runes, and Solty blinks before nodding. "I'll practice later, though. This is a party!" she says happily. She has no pockets or anything to store things in right now, so she sets the runes on a nearby table and opens the orange juice before taking up a kebab in her other hand and enjoying both with a sunny smile. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Awwwwwh." Alicia huff puffs, and-     Well she's tall, and can cover distance quick. and that's why she's quickly over, giving Solty a good hug and a pat on the head, before stepping back. "Well don't let that stop yeh from being a right bright light! Got it?" She grins, and then ooops. "Right, I gotta get back to post, it was nice meeting you all! Ta!" She salutes again, and then she's campering back up the hill towards what's presumably Raha's place.     Raha grins, and then looks to Athela as his subordinate retreats. "Sorry we've got lots of... well. Eorzean Common drifts a whole bunch. As you can tell." He gestures up at the retreating Sergeant, before looking to Strange. "Oh! Spider-Man? Are the rest of Tony's crew still kicking around?" He takes a bite of his own mochi. Mmmmm. Green Tea and Red Bean. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     Now that's just outright disappointing. Solomon didn't expect a massive hurricane, but surely /something/ should have come of Solty's first attempt at magic. Even the most hopeless of novices in Gielinor manage to at least swirl a coulpe air molecules in their first attempt. Solomon inhales sharply, and is about to urge Solty to try again, but then she reminds him and everyone else that this is a party! So, he goes for more of the local alcohol and dutifully imbibes.     The sorceror's reaction to Solomon's respose is surprising. "Hah! First time someone's called me 'sensible' since these new worlds became accessible." Then the duelist notes that Strange has gotten his meaning a bit wrong. "Spider-man's his name? Huh. Even with him being local to your world, he certainly seemed out of place. Like a kid who got powers and decided 'hey, I wanna play the hero', then realized other people have powers and freaked out. I kinda felt bad." 

:'''{{#var:6764|Doctor Strange (6764)}} has posed:'''      "Well... maybe we'll end up working soon, then. Matter of fact..." Now that his hand is free, he can do little cantrips. This one involves conjuring or otherwise procuring an eggshell colored business card. It has the address of the Sanctum Sanctorum engraved upon it by what appears to be the delicate strokes of a fountain pen. "Look me up if you need help." He offers her the card.      "That's the spirit," says Strange to Solty with an affirming nod. Evidently, he's finally gotten tired of standing. The next thing Strange finds is the nearest seat, which he near-hurls himself into, somehow without spilling his drink. Sssip.      "Are you kidding?" asks Strange, crossing one leg over the other. "I mean," he admits between dry laughter, "Don't get me wrong, I think you and I see things differently." It's just honestly great that he doesn't have another 'enemy' out to get him over such a pointless conflict.      "Oh," says Strange, when he realizes what Solomon means. "Yeah, maybe." It's a purposefully noncommittal response.      "Bye," says Strange, lifting his mug up to Alicia in a placid gesture of farewell. "Thor, Tony, Spider-Man, the other Steve... yeah, they're all there. Banner's been quiet, but, hey, maybe that's a good thing?" He shrugs at Raha, magically refilling his own drink. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     The card is accepted, and Athela bows her head in return. "I shall keep in mind next time I need advice on more mystic matters... If we do not meet fighting at sides before then." Considering how things go, that's probably very likely. She does get around, being very much the 'wandering' sort of hero. The card is tucked away for safekeeping, like it was a small piece of treasure. Potential contacts in the grandness of the Multiverse are always precious.     And while she's doing that a small pink and lavander slug-like critter pokes out from under the cloak on her shoulder and takes a big bite out of the mochi in her other hand. Athela almost takes a bit out of what remains, but thankfully notices the residue slime and stops. "Slurry... I swear, such an appetite for something so small." She lets the Goomy eat the rest, and goes to get another for herself. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty is surprised by Alica's speed and looks a bit scared as the tall woman comes rushing over. But then it turns out to be for a hug, and Solty's expression brightens back up. She hugs back as best she can with both hands full, then nods at Alicia. "I won't!" she says, then waves her kebab hand as Alicia leaves. "It was nice to meet you!"      She listens to the others as they talk and continues to enjoy her food and drink...until she spots that slug-creature. Solty blinks a few times. "...what is...?" It is hungry whatever it is. Solty can't decide if it is cute or icky. She settles on picking up a mochi and offering it to the little creature, crouching down a bit to appear less intimidating. Not that she looks intimidating in the first place. "How long did it take you guys to learn magic?" she asks the others here, since seemingly all of them can. She isn't actually sure about Athela, but she looks like she comes from a magic world. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     But as the mingling continues down on the beach, further along the coast there's a commontion from one of the large Free Companies. Someone is out on the sand, bending over a large crate of something or other... when the fireworks start.     And boy are they something. Magical fireworks, alchemy with thaumaturgy thrown in for good measure. Moving displays, lights and colors bending over the top of The Mist like a twisting aurora.     And it's all Raha can do to stop and look up, grinning. "...Twelves. And this is only the first night." 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     It would seem the reality-manipulating sorceror prefers to keep a lot to himself. Solomon's not too miffed, though, since he too is glad to not have made an enemy out of their encounter. Best not to press further. "Two different people with two different roles from two different worlds... yeah, us having different outlooks is expected. Good talk though."     He then turns his full focus back to Solty. "How long did it take me to learn magic? Let's see... took me a day or two to perfect my first spell... and several years to master the ins and outs of combat magic. Artisan magic I still need to look into, since I've largely ignored that... perhaps I should start with..." Solomon trails off as he's interrupted by the fireworks. He flops onto the beach sand, taking in the view. And when the fireworks are done going off, he'll say his goodbyes, collect his gear, and head off. 

:'''{{#var:6764|Doctor Strange (6764)}} has posed:'''      Strange blinks as the Goomy steals Athela's mochi like that. "Is Slurry just... out? ...unsupervised?" He doesn't want to inadvertently bring a Pokemon home. His tone is as neutral as he can make it, given his initial surprise at the audacity of the creature.      Solty's question draws a slight squint. "Eh..." He shrugs his shoulders and wobbles a hand in the air. "I'm not the best example. I picked it up really quick, but on top of the talent I allegedly had for it, I also had zero obligations /and/ a photographic memory. Once I learned how to read in my sleep, things just..." He mimics an explosion with trembling hands.      "...I will say, when I started, I was in the same place you are. To get from here to there, it's really just one step at a time." The fireworks start, and Strange remains for a time to watch them. At some point during the display, perhaps after the finale, he's simply gone, just as suddenly as he'd arrived. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Do not worry. He is too timid to wander away." Athela patted the slug-dragon on the head lightly. "But he dislikes being in stasis so just hides inside my cloak." It has its uses, sometimes it's faster for him to slither out in a pinch so Athela doesn't object. As long as he doesn't get slime everywhere. As for Solty's question. "To learn to use is one thing. To master is another thing entirely. It is as the Doctor says." Idly she snaps her fingers, shooting a small spray of water into the air from them. It is kind of magic. "One step at time. But shop can be talked another time, it sounds as if the nocturnal sky display is starting." 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty hmms softly as she hears the others. "...just a day or two..?" she says after hearing Solomon. She couldn't even make any air move. She stands up again and goes to pick up her runes. "Well, I'll keep trying." she says, clutching them in her hands and giving a firm fist pump.      Then, fireworks! Solty almost jumps out of her skin! She hasn't seen fireworks before, and is afraid for a moment that someone is attacking them. But, once she sees all the fun and amazing things displayed in the sky her eyes widen and she stands still. "Woooooow..." she says, awed by the sight.      Once the fireworks display is over she realizes...it is pretty late! "Oh! I have to get going! Roy is going to be worried! Thank you again, Mister N'Raha! See you all later!" she calls out as she jogs off. 
}}

6230/The Minstrel's Ballad: Gaius's Ambition(2)

2018-12-27T04:50:27Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/12/26 |Location=Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=The Minstrel's Ballad focuses now on the Ascian Lahabrea, and the Light's intervention in his de..."

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|Date of Scene=2018/12/26
|Location=Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=The Minstrel's Ballad focuses now on the Ascian Lahabrea, and the Light's intervention in his defeat
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|pretty=yes
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{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Once more, at the Shrine of Adversity, at a spot set aside perfectly for this kind of setting.  Once more, standing in the center of attention was a middle age normal looking man.  In his hands was a lute, being strum slowly as he prepares a tune.  Just like last time, a crowd as formed, drink is served to those who listen.   "Come my friends, gather around for a tale of a would-be crown.   When our hero, protector of the realm On the cusp of victory he seeks Is now confronted with the darkness that reeks All so that one man's ambition... May finally find fruition." "On the cusp of victory most well earned When our heroes, burned by wind, fire, and earth most stern Are suddenly interrupted by a man most stern And in whose heart most burns Much like our heroes, who do not cower But at this moment, he assumes this is his hour..." "But with him, darkness most grim Who's very soul dims the star's light And whose actions bring upon Hyldalyn's blight. Who the Warrior's of Light Must do battle, or all will be the eternal night." As the words string you along, as the beautiful tale is weaved, the song seems to draw you in.  It's almost like you yourselves were there, in that spot, facing down the three Primals.  You had just struck the decisive blow, as Garuda the bird-like Primal of Wind, Ifrit the demonic-like Primal of Fire, and Titan the Mountain like Primal of Earth.  They had nearly fallen to their wounds, apparently fighting with the Warrior of light to their last, and here was Garuda's final gambit. However, as the finishing blows would come, something over the horizon comes.  Technology that seems highly out of place in Eorzia is seen, flying over a sinister contraption.  The large entity, quadruped, large, and with the same dark steel look that most Garlean machines are built with lands.  It's body coming to life.  The machine crashes in front of the Primals.  However, unlike before, the Primals continue to draw power from the prayer and crystals around.   "Is that all?  Oh lady Garuda, oh lady of the Vortex!  The most terrible of the primals, I ask again...IS THAT ALL!?" He bellows towards the Primal.  From inside the machine.   However, before anyone can actually interfere with this...a rift in space and time itself tears open in front of the heroes, the warriors of light.  From it, a masked and robed man appears, hovering off of the ground.  Though only one of you has actually seen him before, the power of the play has brought to you his name.   Lahabrea. Those who look on the ground notice one thing.  This man casts no shadow.  His presence is, FEELS wrong.  Something etherial clings to him, as his masked face seems to consider the rest of the group.  As he speaks, his voice appears to come from all around you, as well as from him, and its tone is simply not natural.  Also highly annoying.   "Ah, Warriors of light.  We can not have you interfering with this moment.  While I know you can not help but run needlessly into danger, at this point I can not allow you to stop this.  After all, for the birth of the one true god to return, you must needs die here." His hands come out on either side of him, as a dark aura seems to build around him.  "Come then, Warrior of Light.  Today, your light will flicker, and be extinguished!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And once again, Raha, who had been here once more to try and correct the record that The Minstrel seems hellsbent on ruining each and every time he ells a tale or sings a song... finds himself pulled into the tale again.     And once again, he find himself, wrapped head to toe in that Ironworks Armor, the heft and weight of Bravura easily shifting in his hands. Once again, he's struck down the false gods of the Beastmen, the Primal's power guttered and ruined and- Wait no. They're not dead. The never did die, not right then, did they? No.     The visor opens on the mask, and Raha points at the floating Ascian. "Lahabrea! I can't let you contnue this madness! You do nothing but sow chaos and discord! If you won't end this, then I will END IT FOR YOU." The axe head glows, his mask snaps shut, his tail /flicks/ with a snap that's just as decisive as his next step.     There's a BLAST of aether from his legs and feet as he skates forward, leaping up to engage with the Ascian. The speaker on the helmet crackles. "COME, AND FACE THE LIGHT OF HYDAELYN!" 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Having heard, rather extensively, the praises of the Wandering Minstrel, one Misa Takayama has made her way to the Shrine of Adversity to see this man in action. Officer of the guild D.D.D and an accomplished Bard herself, though for different reasons, Misa was 'encouraged' by her Lord to visit the man and hear his tales first-hand. Thus, Misa stands amidst the growing crowd, her arms crossed as she waits with some impatience for the act to begin.     Of course, with each second that passes, Misa thinks about the so-called 'role' of a Bard that her Lord has often spoke about. She only took the class due to its support abilities. The lore behind it is irrelevant. Just because her Lord likes to take these things just a little too far, doesn't mean she has to as well!     Just as things are about to start, Misa's annoyance at her Lord finally reaches the tipping point and she turns to the person next to her, saying with some rather loud conviction, "No matter what he says, I will NOT sing."     ---     Far from the Shrine of Adversity, sitting at a desk within his small office, Krusty sneezes. He pauses in his work for a moment, idly wondering, "I wonder if I'm coming down with something."     Sitting on the couch nearby, Rieze casually flips over the page of the book she's reading, eyes never leaving its words as she replies, "It was probably just Misa talking about you." Krusty mmmms in agreement, before returning to work.     ---     Annoyance briefly sated, Misa returns her attention to the Minstrel as today's tale begins. She finds herself swept up in his words, somewhat begrudgingly admitting his skill. In her mind she can see the story, feeling herself being pulled in. She's actually there herself, though wearing a long ornate coat with far more fancy in its design than she normally would. However, while one might normally expect to find a bow in the hands of such a warrior songstress, Misa instead holds her scythe. A menacing weapon that literally seeps with darkness in this exaggerated tale.     Misa faces down the strange shadowless figure with grim determination. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Bards were not an unfamiliar concept to Athela. They were a fairly common occurance in Bayern, often performing on streets accompanied by Jigglypuff or Kirlia to sing and dance along, telling tales of old through their musical skills. The Minstrel however was on an entirely different level than she had expected. She had come to listen to stories of the past so she could learn more about why Raha's world was in the state it was. She had not expected it to be so vividly real, to the point it feels as if she was actually standing amongst the heroes of that world at a most harrowing time. Taken aback, but the Spirit of Justice does not back down easily. Athela goes to draw her weapon, ignoring the sting in the movements from her lingering wounds. "I... am not certain if I should be impressed, or concerned, at this." Resolute Blade is at least a reassuring feel in her grasp, enough to help steady her composure. She watchs as Raha rushes in against the dark figure, and tightens her grip. "So be it. Onward!" She follows the Warrior of Light's lead, sprinting a few steps and then using her version of Aqua Jet to launch herself into the air briefly and then back down towards their foe with a thrusting jab of her weapon. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is here with Raha again to face what the Bard has to show them she knows it will be quite hard to deal with and at least on par with the Skull Reaper, a thing that did factually kill her so long ago. She took a deep breath and while she was in no true danger that feeling of fear was there. She draws her blade which is burning with holy fire. She looks up at this being for a moment and she frowns for a moment. "Let's go, big man." With that Tomoe pops several tank buffs and falls upon the enemy, keeping an eye out for anything strange after what happened last time? She wants to be far more alert as even if this is embellished? It teaches how dangerous some oft he ruinous powers of N'Raha's homeworld are. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     The battle quickly starts, N'Raha launching himself at the strange Lahabrea. Misa does not join him though, holding her ground some distance away. Holding her scythe in one hand, she raises the other to her chest as she concentrates. Musical notes formed from light begin to float around her, a melodic tune echoing from them. An aura then bursts up around Misa and all the other heroes that are fighting. They will find the magic boosting their skill with their chosen weapon, improving their striking power against Lahabrea. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' "The Light of Hydaelyn?  It pales in comparison to the light of the one true god," He says, as the axe aims for the robed figure, and right off the rip he aims to start combat.  The axe comes in, but the Ascian is a tad faster than expected.  Magical defenses weaken the swing of the axe, which only touches the chest of the shadowless man.  This, however, does more to get the attention of the man of shadows. Athela comes down, swinging her weapon, aiming to end the man's dangerous reign in this world.  However, as she swings down, he notices her.  Before she could find purchase, the man seems to recede into darkness again, as a new rift forms, and he comes out of it...effectively teleporting out of her strike.   However, the careful Tomoe swings, and good thing they were so careful!  Their patience pays off, as the weapon collides with the Ascian, throwing him off balance and causing a grunt of pain and some frustration from him.  The glow of shadow, in response, gets darker. However, Misa joins the fray as well, but this time the darkness provides him some benefit, deadening the blow against him right at the last moment, causing a less than solid blow, but still damage nonetheless.    Staggering, but not quite as injured as the group might have wanted, he rises.   The darkness swells around the Ascian, as in all directions to follow up their attacks, he releases a dangerous wall of darkness.  It received out, striking at all.  It is much like any other explosion, though it's passing leaves you feeling cold and tired, as opposed to on fire, exploded, or lashed with other elemental properties.  It is a creepy feeling, but not especially bad. Just creepy.   

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     There's nothing Misa can do to defend herself against the wave of darkness, simpy holding her arm up on instinct as it washes over her. She stumbles back as it hits her, gritting her teeth at the pain. But soon enough it has passed and Misa recovers, stepping forward once more.     As the aura of her song continues to work on herself and her allies, Misa shifts her scythe into both hands as she prepares to engage Lahabrea herself. She dashes forward, long coat billowing out behind her as she closes the distance to their foe. Once she gets into scythe range, she demonstrates the skill of one worthy enough of the title: Sword Saint.     The curved blade of Misa's scythe cuts towards Lahabrea multiple times as she spins the weapon around, a trail of darkness following behind it. As the blade strikes its foe, it leaves behind its taint that continues to eat at Lahabrea for a while longer. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman is fully expecting this level of nonsense from the Ascian, watching the Dark Shadow do Shadow-y things, like teleporting out of attacks and shifting back nad forth out of this plane of reality. Just the sort of thing someone so soaked in the Void would be able to do, the wretch.     The wave of darkness washes over his armor, soaking through it and slaking across the catman's bones, seeping away some of that exhuberant energy of his... but he's not about to stop. Not now. Not when they've already come so far. The end of the road is still so far, isn't it?     Bravura comes around again, the eyeslits on Raha's armor glowing red for a moment as he builds up energy, his arms glowing with the light of the world. "Well, I've yet to meet your True God, Ascian. Perhaps I'll do that... and end them like I ended the Primals." That axe come around again, though not in a chopping motion. He swings the flat of it against Lahabrea's chest, aiming to stun and disorient the dark creature. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' There's an audible *whunk* as Resolute Blade only strikes the ground where the Ascian once stood. As soon as her own feet hit the ground after Athela grunts and yanks the tip free, flipping the elaborate weapon just enough to put it back into a proper grip. "I see what he meant," she mutters under her breath, recalling the warning about being tricky. She turns on her heels, using the sounds of the others' more successful attacks to hone in on their opponent's new location... Just in time to see him unleashing a wave of dark energy. Well here we go. Athela grits her teeth, digs in and grabs her weapon in both hands to hold it before her defensively. The divine nature of the ancient sword provides an additional effort to the defensive stance, a visible ripple of energy along it's length as the cold shadows flow over them, soles skidding softly on the ground before armored boots dug back in. Shivers of cold tingles through her body but Athela promptly shoved it into the recesses of her mind as she had done many a time before. That stung but she refused to let it waver her resolve. Here she was, not even her own world, yet once again caught in a fight between heroes and corrupt deities. Destiny be what it is. She wound back a bit with her weapon, watery ripples caressing the blade briefly. "Your corruption shall be washed from these lands." As she swung her sword the elemental energy released, causing a swirling vortex of water to churn to life around the Ascian's feet, in an attempt to use the drawing effect of it's current to keep him from being so swift moving. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The fight is well underway now against these things as the thing brings up about the light of Hydaelyn for a moment she will have to ask later but for now she fights. She's able to score a hit on the Ascian and does not rest as she knows a counter attack is coming her way soon and she'll attempt to block it. She fails the attack gets in past her guard and scored a notable hit on her, there's part of her armour and body that transition into a strange red wireframe like appearance for a moment as it struggles to retain her's proper appearance and then there's more coming at them to worry about as well. She's also feeling cold and tired after that hit just what was that she'll keep moving to circle and did another opening well attempt to with how this ascian seems to be moving they could always throw her off after all. Once she thinks she has it she'll move in with her blade again attempting rapid combos of strikes. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The Scythe cuts through the air in multiple directions, as it's revealed that Lahabrea is no slouch.  The aura of darkness, otherwise might as well be known as the bulwark of shadow, extends out.  While she can find purchase on the man, Misa will find that it does not cut as deep...and it really should.  He leans in, even as the body bleeds, the mouth which is the only thing visible under the mask grins at her.   "Ha, as if you could do that, warrior of light," he says towards Raha as he pushes against Misa, before he releases, and fades back.  The Axe comes for him, as the Warrior is undaunted.  The man's hand reaches up, trying to hold back the powerful weight of the mighty swing.  However, this time, despite the defense of the awaiting bulwark, the axe does find purchase...though not as much as Raha would have wanted.  Infact, as the axe aims to main, and DOES so...the body of the creature starts restructuring itself, undoing the hindering he had hoped to do.   "Corruption?  Child, I would suggest you do more than look at appearances.  /WE/ are saving this land from corruption.  The corruption that HIS goddess represents.  Hydaelyn is like a parasite, and must be burned out so the world may continue to live!" He counters towards Athela.  Even as the swirl of water aimed to overtake his feet, he just barely manages to escape the worst of it, the force of the water still hard pressing him, both hands used to brace against the attack.   Repeated combos come from the silent Tomoe.  However, the two seem to go around and around, the Ascian moving JUST fast enough to avoid the worst of the blows, but still not fast enough to avoid them altogether.  That bulwark of shadow protects him from direct strikes, or so it seems. The Ascian throws his hands up, channeling a bigger spell.  A ball of dark fire burns in his hands, as it grows wider and wider.  Before too long, it explodes in all directions.  Aiming to enlighten each and every one of you, making it difficult to deal with. Worse than that, however, pools of darkness start to form under each person.  They will start to follow you, however.  There might be a trick to them...but how do you attempt to figure it out? 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's some mild suprise from N'raha at the ferocity of that attack, and he tries to brace himself through it, but can only feel worse and worse as the energy rips at his soul, tearing at his armor in an attempt to scald him to thecore. Well, that darkness lingers and clings, and the catman just... well. Has to power through it.     He can feel that dark energy coiling up underneath him, and he's only got a few moments. He takes a long, slow breath, and utters a short inward prayer, centering his aether and forcing out that horrible energy... before he starts to move.     His helmet crackles again. "Keep moving! draw the energy away from Lahabrea or else we won't be able to get close to him!" Raha keeps moving, stopping only long enough to swat out an irritating bolt of aether at the Ascian with a sweep of his axe. Gotta avoid this or else you're done! 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Misa backs off after her initial scything at Lahabrea, watching as he counters the others just as readily as he did her. Expecting the other three fighters to be at about the same strength as herself, Misa finds it concerning that their foe is proving this powerful.     There's no more time to examine the situation though as another blast of darkness is unleashed by Lahabrea. This time a wall of dark fire. Once more, Misa can do nothing but endure it. The flames burn at Misa in a way that feels wrong, leaving behind embers on her clothes. And unfortunately there is the pool of darkness appearing below her. A boss mechanic. Misa tries to move out of its radius, but it follows her, leaving her uncertain how to counter it. But then she hears N'Raha's words and so runs, quickly moving to get away from Lahabrea.     Only once Misa is quite some distance away does turn her focus to retaliating. Even as the flames continue to chip away at her health, Misa raises her scythe into the air as she prepares her next strike. More musical notes of various colours appear, this time dancing around the weapon in her hand. They quickly blast off as beams of light, each echoing a musical tone as they streak through the air to slam down on Lahabrea from above. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Every zealot tells the same story," is the only response Athela has to the claims of the Ascian. She's heard the same kind of claims from the Team Golem cultists, and doesn't believe a word of any of it. While she could go into a triad of her own on how such views are shortsighted and often misleading by the very entity they're following, she knows it would be upon deaf ears and doesn't waste the breath. Besides, in middle of a climatic battle was not the place for debating rhetorics. As the barrage of dark fireballs is released Athela leaps into action. Literally, as she jumps over one and side-steps another; though as she's twisting from that maneuver two more pass on either side of her, neither directly hitting but both burning into her trapped between. Taking a step back she closed her eyes for a moment to draw on her Tide Caller heritage once more. This time focusing on the cleansing essence Water carries in it, letting it flow through her and flush the burning darkness from her being. It will take more than that to burn away this Champion's spirit. Then she snapped back to the battle at hand at Raha's advice. Keep away from him to keep the energy away from him? Very well then. Instead of charging into the fray directly Athela instead takes a leap backwards to keep her distance from the Ascian. This however doesn't necesarily limit her options for offensive either. As she lands from the tactical backup Athela channels more of her elemental power through Resolute Blade. Then swings the weapon as she normally would, resulting in the surge of elemental energy streaming off the weapon to reach across the distance like some manner of watery whip-sword. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is not going to be silent this time. "You have a funny way of talking about Corruption but I will give you this. Your one of the first to ever claim you were trying to save the world. You seem to be deluded, however." The strange being is downright dangerous maybe more so that the memories of the Primals she faced earlier the last time she was here. She feel something wrong something is very wrong as she's caught by the energy, something isn't right here. N'Raha gives a good warning she starts to move, and not sit still as she'll dart in and about rather than in her normal tank and spank formation, she'll keep moving about and once she gets far enough away she'll start to chant in badly accented Norse and bolts of light will launch at the Asican as she gets on the move again not wanting to keep still as she tries to draw energy away from their enemy. Well, she trusting full on in N'raha here too from the looks of it. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The blade of Aether cuts through the air towards Lahabrea, his hand comes out to block the blade with his hand.  However, too quick it was and it cuts through the veil of shadow, cutting into the body that was the host of the Ascian.  Gritting his teeth and letting out a hiss as the Warrior figures out his attack. Forceful blasts of musical light fire towards the Ascian, like before the armor of darkness surrounds it, and he strengthens said barrier, as opposed to avoiding it.  To his credit, that was definitely the right move, as this time the beam was FAR too accurate.  Struggling against the attack, he manages to push through it, much like before getting a more haggard, painful grunt.   To Athela's words, he chuckles, giving the woman a smile, "Your words ring with truth, my lady.  However, that sword cuts both ways...or have you never thought to see that your words could be applied to him...as they could to me.  I care not that you support him, but do remove the hypocrisy in your voice and have the bravery to face me without deluding yourself into thinking that his mistress is simply preferable because she has pretty light at her beck and call." he rumbles. "The light is hollow and sterile," he comments, before the blade is charged and swung the Ascian, as water surges for the man.  Barrier meets water, as the two collide.  Once more, he is forced to defend, forced to push through the attack.  It still stings, it still hurts...but it does not strike him critically.  The body starts to ware, starting to be pushed back. "Child, stop talking about things you have no clue about.  I have lived longer than you, your parents, your great-grandparents, at least several generations back.  You call me deluded, yet you wallow in your ignorance.  Truly, the world shall not miss your passing," he rumbles.  Humor starting to leave his voice.   However, the drain spell strikes, trying to sap Lahabrea of life force.  It is...to say the least not very effective.  There is no LIFE, per se...it's now apparent to Tomoe: this is a corpse.  Something is animating it, because of how it responds.  However...something starts to flood back. He laughs and then appearing in the center between each person who ran away from him.  There are four beams of light that follow, each one aiming to blast with a powerful beam of light in each direction.  "YOU HAVE METTLED ENOUGH!" 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     So much talk from the enemy. Misa tunes it out. It's a distraction from the real goal. Winning the battle.     A beam of light is unleashed in her direction and this time Misa does actively try to defend against it. She spins her scythe in front of her repeatedly, blocking the beam. But not for very long. It breaks through, smashing into Misa and sending her flying.     As she flies through the air, Misa twists herself to land on her feet. She skids to a halt and glances around. The fight doesn't appear to be going too well. Neither for herself nor her allies. She needs to help relieve the pressure, if only just a little. Standing her ground some distance away from Lahabrea, Misa brings her scythe around in front of her and plants its end into the ground. More musical notes appear in the air, floating around her.     The faded aura of light that had been surrounding the other three heroes up until now fades away. They will feel the boost to their martial skill fade with it, returning them to their normal levels. But shortly after, a new aura flares up around them and Misa. Its green colour engulfs them, before fading once more but leaving behind motes of light that sparkle around them. They will then begin to feel their injuries beginning to slowly heal over time. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There. There it is. There's his in. Raha snarls, turning to plant his feet against the massive beam of energy, and- it thwacks into his frame like a turnip carriage, his ears planting back against his head, and a rather... well. Something in his tail just broke, or cooked, or something, because half of it just went limp and lifeless. He'll... he'll have to get that looked at.     But the steady stance is just the start. He howls a battle cry in the darkness, bolstered by the presence of Miss Misa, and his allies, and everyone. Everyone. That's who's waiting for the catman to do his duty. To fulfill his Destiny. This creature of Darkness must needs be repelled by the Light, by any means necessary.     An explosion of aether overtakes the Miqo'te, as Raha's charge takes him clear across the battlefield, and directly into Lahabrea. "FALL." And his axe comes straight down, aiming to expell the Thing from its Shell. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' When the enemy appears directly near her Athela reacts as much on reflex and instict as anything else as she brings Resolute Blade defensively in front of her. Despite being a beam of energy from the Ascian's attack there is somehow an audible ring as it slams into the blade, impact shoving the young knight backwards as light splays around her. The energy rays still sting mightly but once again her own divine weapon manages to diffuse it from being much worse. Afterward she exhales slowly and shakes her head a bit to keep it clear. She's starting to feel the exhaustion but she's not going to back down because of it. With a grunt she regrips her weapon, drawing reassurance and focus from the embodiment of what she and her Patron fight for. "Mayhaps you should be careful with your own presumptions." She's neither agreeing or not at this point, just simple acknowledgement of what has been said. If anything the Ascian at least has some reason into his choice, regardless of where it lies in being right or wrong, rather than the blind devotion she's seen in cultists before. But that is about the only acknowledgement she is going to give. There Naha charges once more. Seeing a potentional oppritunity she drives herself into action as well. Putting her own agility to use, a swell of whater launching her across the field of combat once more. This time however Athela does not aim her lunge directly at the Ascian. Instead she lands just behind and a bit of an angle from what Naha is charging. That's when she thrusts, attempting to catch the dark figure as he's recoiling from the Mi'quote's assault. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe spell fires off, however, it doesn't feel right "You ... do not liv... AHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Okay that didn't work very well that didn't work very well at all for Tomoe, whatever this thing. She recovers a bit from what's happened she does manage a reply. "I know the world won't miss me. I'm just someone who crawled out of the grinder and refused to just lay down and die. I doubt anyone will mourn your end as well." She's still not feeling good from an earlier attack which still causing havoc for her body as the battle rages on. Tomoe is now trying to dance back for a moment as she rethinks her own the beam also does connect with her even as she moves and it's just a bad time all around for her. "Not ... done yet." she notes before she'll break into a high-speed dash for the enemy, and this time she's going to use a far heavier sword art as she attempts pt pin him down in a serious of slashes and stabs, trying to just keep him on her to give the rest of the party a chance to go to town on him. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Misa retreats from Lahabrea, instead of advancing on him.  Rather or not this was a good idea, or not remains to be seen.  However, her beams of musical light flare at the Ascian once more...but this time the shadow was properly bolstered.  Shadow strikes light, and as the attack ends...the ascian looks little worn for ware.   Aether overtakes Raha, who charges across the field of battle towards the Ascian.  However, announcing his presence like that causes the cagey Ascian to take notice of him.  Shadow strikes at light, as the two collide.  The ground around them shakes and quivers, as beams of plasma seem to shoot from their struggle...the very aether around them groans as the two floods the area with the absence of both.   However, the Ascian is not deterred, while injured, the bulwark of darkness was not shattered.  More of the body is injured, but he is far from destroyed, far from banished from this body.  He pushes back against the warrior, smiling.  "This is where your tale ends, Warrior.." However, before he could follow it up, Athela dives in, aiming to take advantage of his strike.  The blow is true, cutting through the bulwark of darkness, and getting a line of red through the Ascian's dark robes.  Making a grimace, he turns to look at her.   "The words ring far more hallow, my lady," Oddly, it is not mocking but a statement of fact.  However, Tomoe swings the sword RIGHT towards the Ascian, this time, the armor of Darkness is able to thicken, weakening the strike and absorbing the blow, but it still cuts true.  Through perseverance, the Ascian is still standing.  Though he is starting to become far more heavily injured.   Laughing, however, there is a look of smugness on his face.  As he starts channeling another spell...and all around him that dark burst washes out again.  Aiming to throw anything near him back.  And anything farther away back slightly.  This means that... Everyone near Lahabrea who charged straight for him after dropping the darkness on the ground...will be thrown into it.  Misa, however, stopped on the far side of the darkness and instead is pushed away from it. The darkness bursts like an explosion, aiming to leave a feeling of weakness to those who touch it. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha is shoved back into that puddle of ick, and the flames of the Void wash over him once more. And once more he can feel the touch of the darkness licking at his soul, seeping into his bones, coiling against his very essence. And once more, he gets up to his feet, hefts his axe, and starts walking for Lahabrea again. "Is that ALL, ASCIAN?"     Another flare of energy ripples from the Warrior, as N'Raha's stance changes, from a defenseive one to an offensive one. The Thrill of Battle is upon him, and those slitted eyes narrow, as red energy overtakes him.     The head of Bravura flashes over, aether pouring from the curved blade, casting a ring of light around the Miqo'te as he plants his feet, and swings at the Ascian.     There is no finesse.     There is no style.     There is nothing but the axe.     There is nothing but the swing.     And nothing but Lahabrea. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Misa can only watch as her allies charge in on Lahabrea and are caught in his darkness. Misa herself is caught on the edge and thrown away from it, hitting the ground. She picks herself up to see the others recover from the assault. It doesn't look good, a couple of them roughed up by the explosive attack.     Looking at Lahabrea on the other hand, you'd think he was unbeatable. But Misa doesn't believe in such a concept. She narrows her eyes at the Ascian and suddenly she's off in a dash.     Beginning to close the distance, Misa starts her assault early. The blade of her scythe begins to glow with light and she twirls it in front of her, a distortion appear just beyond the weapon. Misa then plants her foot into the ground and spins herself, smashing the distortion with the weapon and sending a sonic blast screaming towards Lahabrea. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "Actions will always speak louder." With that said Athela expends no more energy than necessary to make her attack and draw back a bit. The glimps of red is noticed, but she is not one to revel in the drawing of blood. It is simply a matter of combat. She's more focused on their foe as a whole, and knowing some manner of counterattack is inevitable already preparing herself. Which comes in the form of a dark explosion of some kind radiating outwards from the Ascian, and there's no debating that she's too close to the epicenter to leap away in time. She buckles down and raises her weapon before her, bracing herself against the assault, refusing to back down even in the face of such overwhelming adversity. But as Resolute Blade is held in her defense it's divine nature shields her from the darkness, splitting the shockwave passing around her. There's a tingling left in its wake, faintly gnawing in sensation, but by this point she's too focused and already too wore out to register it as more than just being there. Hoping the Ascian won't expect her to still be standing there after the attack Athela quickly snaps back into motion, swinging briefly up with the weapon, and then bringing it crashing back down while releasing more of her watery force through it. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The fight is quite intense here and thing is as always getting more and more dangerous to deal with. She can only guess at what other horrors await them all as the story goes onward. She keeps on the moves as she moves to strike them. There's no mocking that tone which is odd to her. Still, she scores a hit, even if it weakens it a bit. She gets through finally, it's not enough as now another attack comes and tomoe pops a tank ability massively bolstering her defences now and she needed it even with that ability? She's been hit very damn hard. The blast washes over her forcing her back. Tomoe's been hurt pretty damn bad but she's not out of the fight yet, she's grunts and moves around again trying to fight off the building weakness she's feeling from the hit, and she'll move to make another round of attacks but this time she hangs back and chants, spell runes dance about her body. Then comes the fire and flames as she directs several bolts of flame at the strange man in black. The bolts keep coming. For this time she's working to keep her distance from the enemy. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' "Your prattling is getting old, warrior!" Lahabrea says, knowing that Raha is likely being pushed to his limits.  However, a cornered rat is still dangerous, and the Ascian is not likely to underestimate a champion of his enemy.  The blade swings, and light flies at him.  His hand comes up, catching the slash, trying to block it with his own magic.   The two collide, but the power of the Axe is mighty, and this time cuts through the defense.  Even though most of the force of the blow was deflected away, it still cuts...he was being pushed back, and he knows it.  If he could just gather a little more aether... The sonic blast screams at the shadowless man.  Forced to take her attack seriously, he braces too.  Once more shadow washes over him, trying to force the attack aside, trying to shield himself from it.  However, the force was too much, and he is forced to fly back.  However, despite that, he manages to just BARELY hold his own.  Breathing heavily as he stares balefully towards the woman. The force of water surges through the sword, once more aiming to strike the Ascian down.  Growls, deciding that going on the offense is the only way to win this.  No longer using the shadow to defend himself, it surges through him like a heat haze.  Even as the water cuts into him, even as more of his body is crushed by the water.  He stands, his wounds threatening to force him back. Several blasts of flame rush towards the Ascian from Tomoe.   They smash against the Ascian, but the Aether building around him, while not an active defense, does serve to weaken the magical attacks.  It appears the ascian is no simple magician.   "No...I shall not lose.  I will NOT be defeated by the likes of you," he starts and then chuckles.  "MAY THE ABYSS TAKE YOU ALL!" And with that, a powerful spell is released, as tendrils of darkness wash out in every direction.  They do more than strike, they hit in such a way that threatens to snuff out life in a single strike, and should that be avoided, the damage they leave behind is not insignificant.  The spell is devastating, and easily a spell designed as a counter to life itself.   "Hahaha...!" 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Darkness threatens to overtake each and every one of you...life force starts to feel like you are drifting away.  Death becomes apparent...nothing can save you from it. 'However, in their direst of moments, when all hope seemed lost... A voice in their back of their minds, a sweet voice beckon 'Tis not your time, warriors of light, to fight off the dark... You must look towards the light!' As each of your bodies hit the ground...something happens.  Light surges through the battlefield, washing the dark aether away from the land, causing the Ascian to rear back in pain, and surprise.  The gentle warmth washes through each and every one of you. 'Mark, not the dark one's words,' a gentle voice can be heard, 'To banish dark...one must cleanse with light.' You feel your strength returned, your power restored.   

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Misa is already charging as Lahabrea unleashes his spell. Tendrils launch themselves towards her and the others. Misa moves fast, trying to dodge around the fast moving darkness. But, they're too difficult to avoid! Misa winces at the pain and finally succumbs to the damage she's received. Her legs give out and she collapses to the ground... The familiar feeling of death embraces her...     ... But it's not quite the same. This time, it's different. Misa hears a voice in the back of her mind. Both familiar, and yet not.     Light washes over her and Misa can feel her strength returning. Feeling renewed, she slowly gets to her feet. Settling her eyes on Lahabrea, she finally speaks, "It's not over."     Misa dashes towards Lahabrea once more, solid determination in her eyes that bely her recent 'death'. As she runs, the ground beneath her feet begins to glow with each step, small notes of light floating up from each. A swelling orchestra begins to fade in for those who listen, the chorus rising up as Misa launches herself into the air in a spin, raising her scythe up above her head. Light collects at its very tip.     Finally Misa arcs down towards Lahabrea, swinging her scythe from straight above, trying to strike the tip at his head. The phantom orchestra hits its peak as the blade connects, the gathered light exploding to brighten the battle site for just a moment. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There was nothing N'Raha could do. Nothing at all. He was point blank. He was right there when that Anti-Life snakes out of Lahabrea, and as much as he wanted to, wanted to crush the life out of this monster, the Dark Spirit had the upper hand on him. And that energy lances right through that fancy armor of his, barely pausing to slam though his heart, out the other side, and leave him a cumpled heap on the dirt of this Nowhere Space.     And then it happens. Mother Crystal herself, rising up to defend and rescue her willing souls, her Warriors of Light. The Light of Hydaelyn washes over the miqo'te, lifting him back up from the brink of death. He shakes off the cobwebs, his tail flicks back out straight, and he takes... a breath.     And in that moment, his Inner Beast rages out, pushed forth by the power of the Light. "There is no where you can hide, Ascian. We will find you. We will end your twisted schemes, and we will drive back the Darkness." A breath...     When did he leap? There was barely any motion. Legs tense, and then in an instant Raha's high above Lahabrea, that axe flaring over with light. Those red eyes burn with Divine Rage, Perfect Fury, and with a sigh, he falls, cleaving stright down, aiming right for that glowing mask. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' What is it with beings like this throwing tantrums when they're on the cusp of defeat? Athela attempts her best at dodging and parrying the dark tendrils, but there's just too many of them at the same time for even her blessed reflexes to keep up with. All it takes is one getting through and slamming directly into her chest, hurtling the young woman backwards as its touch felt as if tearing into her very being beyond the physical injury. There was Darkness... And then there was Light. The voice in the back of her mind was not the deity Athela normally heard but she opened to her in the same and accepted the guidance from the entity that knew this world and this Corruption that plagued it. The flow of Light through her drove back the darkness, bringing her back fromt he brink and leaving her feeling revigorated. A soft thank you is whispered as Athela reclaimed her own divine weapon and refocused herself. "Now then." With a startling burst of speed Athela hurtled herself back at the dark figure. Light sheened across the blade of her sword, rippling visible with the power held within it, power drawn from the courage and determination of the Spirit of Justice. All in one great swing towards the Ascian, refusing to allow him to triumph so easily. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Well Tomoe has a habit going after things outside her weight class, and this is one of those times she can endure a lot but something like this? She can hear the drive of this being, he's clearly got a cause he's behind, which makes him dangerous as he sounds like a beliver but thse thgoughts are mostly in the back of her mind as she pops another damage reducer it's not enough as she attmet to take it she's overhwelemd thoughts of the time she took the hit for one of her pary menber vers the Skull Reaper. She hits the ground it seemed to be over, the magic brings an experience unlike anything she's felt before which then something happens she hears a voice that it's not her time, some part of her, maybe that part that went kicking and screaming in the death game flares up she forces her battere and beaten body, to get back up. "Not...done yet..." Is all she manages to get out, and she first throws her shield like a boomerang at Asican then even as it's flying she launches into a powerful sword art her blade glows brightly as she attempts to launch into a powerful X slash then followed by a barrage of blows which at the end she'll catch her shield before pulling back. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The Ascian, who had put everything into offense, who was NOT expecting this is caught off guard.  The powerful scythe cuts through him, the powerful Axe crushes his bones and leaves another painful gash.  A sword of light tears through his body, and then the boomerang cuts through what remains.  The Ascian, unable to keep going is forced back, dropped to a knee. "Ugh...not like this." He says, cursing.  "The light...can not be allowed..." he says, before a rift opens, swallowing the Ascian again.   However, on the outside of the Arena, the other battle had come to an end.  Ifrit throws himself at the strange weapon, you know it to be called Ultima Weapon.  It's hand moves to catch the claw of the Prima, lifting it up and slamming it in the chest with the other hand.  Slowly, it starts to fade into Aether, but the machine starts to SUCK that Aether into itself.  Seemingly empowered. Titan slams in next, trying to take advantage of the possibly caught off guard Ultima Weapon, only to receive a punch to it' own gut...and then slowly lifted off of the ground with the hand still embedded in it.  The might of this weapon was overwhelming, as it leaned over, seemingly taking BITES out of the Primal, before it too was consumed.   Finally, Garuda dives in, trying to do something...anything.  It was likely desperation.  However, she was grabbed by either claw.   "NO...NO! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!" she screams, before the machine mercilessly brings each hand down, cracking the back of the primal...before lifting it towards the 'face' if the ultima weapon.  Once more, consuming her and her aether.   With that and a flash of power, the Ultima weapon starts glowing strangely, empowered by the three Primals it just consumed.  From the back of it, a man walks out, strolling slowly towards the Field of battle.   However, the song comes to an end, as the bard finally brings this story to a close.  Because tonight was not about that man...not yet.  The next two Ballads were dedicated to him. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Misa gracefully lands after her strike, rising up and moving her scythe to rest on her shoulder. As she poses, the area around her darkens for a moment as three spotlights appear to shine down on her. Above her, a musical note writes out two words in sweeping letters of light: Grand Finale     The after effects of Misa's Bard skill fades at about the same time as the tale ends, leaving the real Misa standing there back in her regular guild uniform, arms crossed, looking only somewhat impressed... That's a huge compliment from her! Kudos, Wandering Minstrel. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     N'raha is already pointing at the Minstrel in the real world. There's color in his cheeks, and he's slightly sauced. Or heated. Or exhausted. Really, he's always tired after one of these. "Oy. I... you..."     His complaints just start to die off on his lips as he sits down again, adjusting the sweater he's wearing. "It's a good telling just... I don't remember Her stepping in quite like that." 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' The combination of blows strikes the Ascian down. Or at least the body it had been manipulating. To her credit Athela, despite having exhausted much of her revitalized energy on that blow, would of turned and gotten ready to fight the empowered warmachine inspite of it. But it is apparently not time for that chapter yet. She paused, blinked a little and rubbed her face with the back of an arm. By which the song has ended and things have gone back to normal. "Never have I experienced a bardic performance so... enthralling." That's the best she can come up with for phrasing the experience. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe watches as the Ascian finally goes down, she watches intently as he falls and it's strange he speaks of the light rather than screamin hate at them. Troubling if he has fellows with convictions like him. As for what comes next? Oh god the Priams are back but something else comes she look at the weapon staring as it just punks the Primals. "Woah...." Then it ends for now talk about to be contiuned. 
}}

6229/The Minstrel's Ballad: Gaius's Ambition

2018-12-20T18:30:42Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/12/19 |Location=Shrine of Adversity |Synopsis=The Wandering Minstrel spins a yarn of the fall of Ultima Weapon, told in a way only Yoshida-san..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/12/19
|Location=Shrine of Adversity
|Synopsis=The Wandering Minstrel spins a yarn of the fall of Ultima Weapon, told in a way only Yoshida-san can, and the Adventurers get pulled right on in.
|Cast of Characters=6843, 819, 6756, 6, 1086, 525, 6704, 1149
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Gathering in the Shrine of adversity was a Wandering Minstrel, a man known in Eorzia as an amazing musician.  His stories seemed so lifelike, his tales so amazingly detailed that you felt you were right there, next to the heroes you heard stories of.  Also known to have spoken to the heroes of the tales he weaves, though perhaps...embellishing on some details.   After all, nobody wanted to know about the forty-eight rats you slew to get to the true epic fight...only of the epic fight itself.  Tonight, it was a story of the Hero of Light of Eorzia, and their battle with the Ultima Weapon...or more specifically, the Ambition of an Imperial, a man known as Gaius van Baelsar.  The man who discovered the weapon. The man who brought it to the shores of Eorzia. The man who demanded the surrender of all of the city-states.   As you gather around, a man with brown hair, a black mask over his face stands.  His outfit mostly black, with a red overcoat and a white skirt-like dress over his hips.  In his hands was a harp, starting to pluck the strings, perhaps as to tune it. "Come hither my friends, gather around for a tale of a would-be crown. When our hero, protector of the realm Must first fight through squalls, chaotic and unending Through a firestorm, ambitious and ingenious Through trembling earth, frenzied and unwavering. Here the lady of the vortex makes her final stand, here the warrior of light must needs to shield the land." You could feel yourself fall into the story.  You can imagine the squall that surrounds you.  The storm that aimed to threaten you all.  There were no more protections against it.  In the Center stood a bird-like woman, radiating magical energy.  It seems that she was battle worn, but so were you.  After all, you had been battling her for a while. Just before, a dirty trick she used, using crystals and prayer from the helpless and scared beastmen of other Tribes.  And because of this, and because of the threat YOU represented, the three created a temporary alliance. The relentless wind, the scorching earth, and the quaking earth would be your opponent.  As a large beast like figure, demonic by appearances named Ifrit would stand on one side.  On the other, a massive living man, almost as if he himself were made of adamantine and stone stands.  His expression full of rage... However, encouraged by this plan and the flow of prayer and Ether, the woman, Garuda, laughed.  It would appear, she would fight first, again, catching her second wind.  As you approach her, the gale itself whips out at you, aiming to throw you back into the storm itself. However, as the battle rages, as you throw yourselves at her, around the battlefield, two...copies of Garuda appear.  The gale protects them from attack, but they seem to...focus on a person directly.  Where that person, they follow...and you can see magic surround them, preparing a spell. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a sigh from N'raha as he's once again pulled into The Narrative spun by the Wandering Minstrel. How many times had this happened back home? Too many to count. The Minstrel liked to hang out downstairs, after all, and it was hard to avoid the constant refrains that he sung to patrons.     The embellishments.     The... liberties.     And thus he finds himself once again in front of Garuda, his faithful companions at his back. His rather... fancy magitek axe in his hands. Gone is the plain and staid armor he ACTUALLY wears, and instead, the catman is bedecked in the fineset gear that the Garlond Ironworks can turn out, all angles and shimmering energy, and bells and whistles. The visor of his helmet snaps shut as the attacks come in, and a speaker crackles on the suit. "RIGHT! Get behind me, everyone! Be careful! Watch out for Inga there, she's our primary healer! Keep her safe!"     "HA! COME, YOU SALTY BIRD, TASTE COLD STEEL AND SPIN YOUR WINDS NO MORE! TILL THE SEA SWALLOWS ALL!" And with the battle cry, the catman tank is diving RIGHT IN, a withering blast of energy lancing out, and battering at one of the clones, trying to get its attention as he wades in, axe swinging. 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     Is that what they call "roleplay," Stella ponders.     It's not what she expected when she heard a bard would regal them with tales of epic battles and extraordinary foes. Of course she had been interested in that - battle is one of the rare things she feels 'comfortable' about, and she's not so ignorant as to not know what a bard is. Her king had several!     It's just, the beats of music never...     Well, she's crystal. Sounds make her vibrate weird. Not uncomfortably, just... weird. But certainly not as pleasant as it is to human ears either.     But this man, evidently, is such a magician of music that he can create images from his voice, and Stella is left entirely taken aback by the idea someone could so vividly picture themselves in a situation like this. It's interesting. A bit confusing, but she'll adapt.     The violent gale chips away at Stella's skin and clothes, cracking the golem's appearance slightly. As quickly as her outer layer cracks, however, the wounds mend themselves, crystaline growth filling the gaps right back up.     N'raha goes for one clone, Tomoe claims the other - Stella goes for the Big Lady herself, blades of crystal bursting out of her wrists and settling into her hands like swords.     "I do not know how I feel about this," she finally vocalizes.     At least the simplest solution seems viable. Stab Garuda in the face and keep her attention, because Stella was trained to protect. And kill. Mostly kill. But knights protect people, and so, she does. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe was not expecting a call like this and after getting a keen reminder on why she sees Lezard as one of the most dangerous Mages she's ever seen. When the odd call from a WAndering Minstrel went out the Iron Lily was very curious to investigate also given she's heard something about this man from Eorzia as well? What could it hurt at the shrine she wants to see if it was true about his stories? She rapidly finds out yes this man can make it seem to come to life, he can do what Heathcliff killed so many to do he can craft his own story in a world that the people experience. N'Raha had experience killing the real deal so she will listen to him on this fight he'd what would be called a Raid Caller within the GU. She al see Inga is there a hell of a lot of wind she sees the hulking creature before her. It's also like Christmas for her is early? Why Krusty and N'Raha are here two people she trusts to tank with so they should be interesting. "Inga keep behind me and if you hear N'Raha bark and order follow it! He knows these things." SHe notes she'll pop a number of her defence buff abilities and will also pop one on Inga, to give the caster some more cover. "When this is over I need to ask you a favour of you. My Norse is ... terrible..." She notes and given her chanting for her buffs, ya it's pretty much true, and then she's after the clone trying to keep it's attention all on her even as the Winds buffet the heck out of her. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer outright ignores N'Raha's chatter. It's not necessary. He's into the story, now, really *really* into it. This is a man who got so lost in his own dream of glory he decided to make the world bend to his will. A man who got so lost in the fantasy he sought, he learned how to kill gods just to make it come true, a fantasy so ridiculously outlandish that anyone else would call it madness. Even if madness and genius are near align'd, Seifer Almasy's capacity for blurring that thin line is such that even if the minstrel didn't have such magical talent, Seifer would *still* be lost in the godslayer glory. He doesn't need magic to get lost in a fantasy.      It helps, though.      Seifer also pays exactly no attention to the rest of the party. He's got his gunblade slung over his shoulder. For once, he's not wearing his white coat - or, rather, it's slung over the other shoulder, fluttering like a cape as he walks forward. His green eyes flash. There's a grin on his face. His muscular arms are covered in scars, and his stomach - visible in the gap between his black belly-vest and his black pants - is heavily muscled. Seifer is a man who takes determination to an absolutely ridiculous level; this body is proof of that.      The burst of wind hits with enough force to push Seifer backwards. He doesn't lose his footing, though. He simply doubles down, grinding his feet into the ground. His coat flaps about him furiously. He holds to it tight, the red cross on the arms flying defiantly, a symbol of that romantic dream he's armed himself with.      "Tch!"      "Motherfucker!"      Seifer pushes through. The wind is cutting. It's harsh. It's sharp.      Seifer's blade is sharper.      Hyperion slashes off his shoulder, carving through a gust. The break in the strike is sharp enough to cut the ground behind him on either side. He raises his blade back to his shoulder. "Hah. Asshole. Wind can be cut too."      "And you aren't the first god I've killed!"      N'Raha gives orders.      "Fuck you," Seifer says aloud, "I'll go where I want. Don't try and give me orders!"      As N'Raha goes running forward to claim one of them, Seifer falls in with Stella. "Hey, new girl!" He barks, "Ignore that cat guy for now! Let's pile on the damage!"      Hyperion matches time with Stella's stabbing. Each slash comes with an explosion, a shaking burst of vibration that cleaves through metal and rock alike. And Seifer is *really good* at using it. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' A good storyteller brings you into the story. The characters become real to you. They tug on your heartstrings. The action makes her pulse race, eager to know what happens next. It should be an experience that takes outside of yourself. But this was a /bit/ ridiculous. She's rather startled to find herself within the story, facing Garuda--specifically a clone of Garuda, thrashing at her with strong winds that knock her back painfully. "W-what is going on?" she cries, looking toward N'raha. At least he seems to understand what is happening. Battle it is, then, and as he said, she's apparently the primary healer. "By the gods," she groan, and looks up toward Garuda. Her third eye tingles. She expands her awareness, looking toward the nearest Garuda--there, what is that? There's a shimmering line drawn between them... a swirling of wind in a circle around her. Inga looks puzzled, but its not a far stretch of logic to assume she should MOVE. Inga rolls out of the circle. It would take too much time to get to her feet. It's not exactly elegant, but hopefully it works. Once she thinks she's free, she uses her staff to help pull herself to her feet. She probably /could/ fight sitting down, but she'd prefer not to! Now that she's on her feet, she looks toward Tomoe, nodding. "Very well! I will do so!" she replies. If Tomoe is covering her, Inga can help out others with her own wards. As she knows N'raha will be getting into the thick of things, she draws her knife and drags it quickly into her palm, throwing a blood-ward in his direction. And since she's bleeding already... she lets the blood pool in the air, solidifying to form a wicked looking spear. She flings her arms forward with a shout and sends the spear flying toward Garuda. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      What child-like young person could resist epic story time! But, Solty wasn't expecting all of this! The minstral starts relating the tale and Solty blinks as it seems to come alive. "Oh wow! It's like some kind of re-enactment! So cool!" she says overly excitedly. But, she looks a bit scared as things progress and three big monsters approach them. Her twin green ponytails whip in the galeforce winds, and she ends up covering her ears against the howling storm. "This is really loud!" she exclaims to no one in particular.      Then that burst of wind gusts out toward them and Solty's expression suddenly changes to serious. Her arms come up in an x-block and the wind breaks over her with minimal effect. There's some scuffs on her arms, but nothing serious. "Hey! That wasn't very nice!" she calls out asshe rushes toward the big baddie. She blinks as she realizes...she is in a different outfit! Over-elaborate robes with lots of unnecessary buckles and straps, all colored white and red and gold. Silvery pauldrons cover her shoulders and thick armored gauntlets with spiked knuckles are on her hands! "Oh wow!" Solty exclaims with a child-like giggle. She watches her robes flutter as she rushes forward, then focuses on Garuda. "Okay! Here I come!" Her fists start to glow with orange-yellow energy and anyone paying close attention would notice that her fists seem to actually blur like they are vibrating incredibly fast. She leaps and spirals her way in and throws a powerful punch packed with explosive energy, then bounces back a short distance before landing in a three point stance. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty had heard rumours of the bard in the Shrine of Adversity, so had decided to visit and see for himself the supposed ability of the man. Krusty has known a number of bards in his time. One of his own Lieutenants utilizes the class to an impressive degree. But the rumours he had heard of this one suggested an even greater power of song. And that had piqued Krusty's curiosity.     The Adventurer knight wanders over to the group forming around the Wandering Minstrel, beginning to listen as he plays his song. Krusty can feel his sense of reality blurring as his mind is pulled into the story, the sight of the gusting arena around him.     Krusty reaches up to wipe the sweat from his face beneath the horned helmet. The mix of leather and metal armour is heavy on his shoulders, but he's used to the feeling. As the blast of wind launches at them, Krusty swins his large axe and embeds it in the ground, struggling to hold his ground as he is pushed back. The sharp cutting wind scrapes across his armour harshly, but soon enough passes and Krusty rises once more.     Holding back from resuming the attack just yet, Krusty takes in the situation. N'Raha is taking the lead as tank, some of the others moving to support him. And of course Seifer is being Seifer and just going off on his own. Krusty tchs at the familiar annoyance.     Krusty then smirks.     Perhaps he can use the other knight's recklessness to his advantage. Krusty raises his axe and then charges in on Garuda, right on Seifer's tail. Krusty capitalizes on Seifer's attack and the opening it presents, sweeping in shortly after him with a battlecry and massive blow from his large axe.     Expecting a counterattack, Krusty jumps away from Garuda after his assault, before chuckling in Seifer's direction, "Thanks." 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Garuda laughs as the storm takes you. It is a dangerously close game for some, as the wall of wind around the arena threatens to consume you, but you are heroes of light, warriors without peer.  You fear no wall and no primal! N'Raha is into the fray, swinging the ax as he charges through the wind without fear.  Steel meets claw, but despite his determination, her claws just NARROWLY hold out his steel.  She does not come unscathed for it, but her body escapes the worst of it.  Tomoe goes in with N'Raha, as well, her weapon swings to taunt the mighty primal, apparently engorged on prayer and crystal.  Once more, the winged fallen angel manages to just keep ahead of his mightiest blows, her talons catching the weapon...but the pain that reverberates through her is not insignificant.   The sword of Stealla comes next, trying to swing for the beautifully inhuman face of Garuda.  However, she remains just NARROWLY ahead of her, while her face still resembles a face, a cut above her brow remains, drawing the first blood of this fight.  Seifer joins in with her, aiming to swing Hyperion to catch a hit on the slippery bird.  However, this time the Primal is ready, her eyes flashing with intent as her talons strike against Seifer's blades, as the very WIND itself acts as a giant cutting blade.  While she does not hurt him, he does not find purchase on him.   Solty works together with Inga's spear, the pair working together to bring the monster down.  Thanks to all of the attacks before, Garuda's hands are LITERALLY too full to defend too much against them.  Solty's fist smashes through the defense of the Primal, smashing her back.  Only to find a spear bearing down on her.  The Primal's eyes flash up in surprise before she takes the spear to the side.  A nearly fatal blow, but painful nonetheless.   Krusty himself dives forward, right on Seifer's tail aiming to, perhaps, use him to break the wind and make his attack faster?  The Axe, which is normally a tank weapon, raises and comes down at the already pummeled Garuda.  Cutting through her defense and getting another satisfying SQUAK out of her.   Garuda, now in pain, and now bloodied, starts to laugh.  Inga realizes the wind around her is dangerously starting to spin.  With her reflexes, she quickly tries to dodge roll out of it...and away from everyone else.  Tomoe, on the other hand, joined int combat with everyone else.  A tornado around him forms, aiming to swallow them up and smack them into everyone else in melee with Garuda. Garuda vanishes and then comes down like a rocket from the sky in the middle of the arena.  around her, feathers fall from the sky.  There are two types of feathers, oddly, and each one moves to attack people.  Though their attacks are hilariously ineffective.  There are two types of Plumes, the majority of them are Razor Plumes. There are also Satin Plumes.  There are exactly TWO of these, and they attack Seifer and N'Raha.  The other plumes go for everyone else, hilariously doing nothing but a single point of damage (if that) to anyone.  Strange! However, Garuda herself seems to be charging up a powerful attack, as Aether around her surges to unprecedented levels!   

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Well at least some of them listened. Raha yelps as the winds rake at his armor, clash against the metal and fabric and generally do a bunch of Rude Stuff to him. That said, there's feathers everywhere ,and... well, he's remembering this now. There WERE feathers last time, but not this many, and not this many sorts of them. He growls as he shoves off against the clone, and calls out again. "Thanks for the help, Inga! Everyone! Start getting rid of the feathers! Seifer, get the one coming for you, please!"     N'raha twists in place, ducking under a swipe of claw and wind, as he turns to dust the Satin Plume attacking him to the grass and dirt, before turning back to Garuda. He snarls, and gets right up against her, his visor opening up to show of his face, to let Garuda see the Light of Hydaelyn in his eyes. "We meet again, four bird. Tell me, do you dream, when you are gone? Is there anything in the Lifestream for you, in the times between? When you linger outside the flows of time?"     He shoves the massive axe in his hands into the Goddess' belly, light flashing over his frame. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty is caught up in Tomoe's storm and ends up bouncing off several people as well as the ground! She finally manages to catch herself before leaping out of the storm. She ends up on one knee, wincing a bit from all the scuffs and bumps she took in that tornado. A bit of silver is visible in several places where armor or rocks hit particularly hard, puncturing her skin and revealing that she is actually an android to anyone who didn't know.      People called out orders! Between the two orders given, protecting the one called a Healer seems the better option given the other was 'ignore that guy'. Solty runs over to put herself between Inga and Garuda. "Don't worry! We'll keep you covered as best we can!" she says to Inga before rushing in again...and trying to keep her distance from Tomoe this time.      Her ears twitch as she hears N'Raha, then she looks toward the feather that is basically trying to tickle her. "Um...okay!" She punches the feather, then makes her way back toward Garuda, hitting any feathers along the way that come within her reach.      When she leaps up like a rocket and aims one of her power-packed punches at Garuda's closest wing! 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     Deadly winds chop at Stella. Her form cracks in places again - much larger than before. The gale cuts lines into her form like she's a big block of crystal, not people. And yet Stella stands her grounds, weathering the (literal) storm even as a slice from the wind lobs one of her ears off, bloodlessly. Crystal grows right back into place, restoring her body to pristine condition.     Stella then looks at Seifer as plumes fall, as if looking to him for advice on how to handle this. Her instinct tells her to stab something, preferably Garuda, but the feathers are all glowy and important-looking.     With N'Raha indicating the one targetting Seifer is important, Stella settles on taking a step away from Garudo, especially as the catman takes aggro from her. She spins, hurling one of her crystal blades for Garudo's chest like it's a projectile, and another for one of the Satin Plumes, as the cat indicated.     "Is this normal when bards sing?" she finally asks Seifer. In her experience it really, really wasn't. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Thankfully, Inga chose to roll in the right direction to lure the attack against her away from everone else. This is good. She can, more or less, handle it. It is not exactly /fun/ but with her regeneration she continues to heal as she is hit. She may not be tough in the way the other Chosen are, but at least that still worked in her favor. As if being hit by a twister isn't bad enough, she's soon be assaulted by a feather of all things. Still bleeding, she turns those wounds into a weapon, flinging a cloud of her own blood at the feather, turned highly acided by her magic. Inga tosses more of her blood in healing toward N'raha, then takes in the battlefield. There's many more feathers, two that stand out as different. While most seem to have an malignant aura, the two that are different... Inga shouts out something quick on her radio, and starts moving toward one of the Satin plumes! 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer is momentarily jerked out of the dream. Caster's asking him for a present. Acknowledging the real world for a brief instant is enough to distract him, and the distraction is enough for the feathers to swarm and smash into him. Cuts scatter along his flesh. Blood streams down his face. When Seifer immerses himself back in the dream he's injured, badly.      Krusty's doing what Krusty does and N'raha's still shouting orders. Seifer tsks.      "Asshole! You don't need to tell me to kill something trying to kill me!"      So he does. He turns around and he carves into the feathers, his blade flashing outwards like lightning. If Krusty wants to follow his lead, that's fine! Krusty can see how it's done. And the damn cat can-      Stella jerks him out of the dream again. "Uh? No, not really-"      He gets hit again.      Dammit. He's getting distracted, unfocused.      He needs to try something new.      And with his coat in his hand, he can't direct his soul force. The snap is the hammer; without the snap, there's no /ignition/, no...boom. Without the boom, he doesn't really have...any way to measure it. Any way to control it. He just pours everything out.      Then again, if he had a guide...      Something like a barrel instead of a hammer...a machine gun...but if he fucked it up, Hyperion would be blown up. If he had something in his other hand-      -wait.      -he does.      The feather comes in again. He doesn't have time to try it yet - he settles on just swinging his blade again to carve into the thing, cutting force applied to cutting force. Skill and power win out over just power any day. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe only gets the mechanic too late she is caught in a part she only catches on to it far too late as things are going bad, very bad, as worse things are going on now. She's really bored up but she wasn't quite expecting the a fight like this. It's already making some of the bosses in the death game seem like chump change. The wind is a terrible thing Tomoe is legitly torn up badly there's wireframe damage all over her gear and body, worse she cries out in pain. She's been a noob and it nearly got everyone hurt, this isn't good, at all. Orders come from N'Raha and she will follow them, forget the main enemy and take out the Feathers. "Got it." She'll start to chant and badly ion Norse, runes dance about her and she'll fire a barrage to rays of light not at the Primal but at the feathers, as all those damn feathers need to go she can only guess how bad it will go if they don't deal with it fast. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty is rather focused on Garuda at the moment, but his keen Adventurer senses, plus his boss-fighting experience, alerts him to the danger presented by the tornado crashing down towards Tomoe. He doesn't have enough time to avoid it, but he can still dampen the blow, "Cool Defense!" A glowing barrier briefly forms over Krusty as the deadly winds hit. The defensive skill softens the blow, but it's still a harsh one and Krusty can feel it.     The aura around Krusty fades after the winds of the tornado die down. He quietly chides himself for failing to see the mechanic. But that's the problem with fighting bosses for the first time. You don't yet know their moves, or how to avoid them. However, Inga seems to be in the know. Admitting her reasoning has merits, Krusty decides to not stray from Seifer's general area, using a quick sweep of his axe to cut down the more harmless feather after himself.     Holding his ground near the fellow knight, Krusty doesn't let up on his assault against Garuda. He moves his axe around behind him, the blade of the weapon beginning to glow with light. Crying out once more, Krusty swings the axe forward, before quickly reversing his grip and bringing it around for a second swing. A cross of light forms from both swipes, before blasting its way across the gusty arena in Garuda's direction. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' N'Raha strikes with the axe, and TINY PLUME is nothing to Axe.  The Plume is dead, and moments later, the dead plume seems to be radiating a protective aura around itself, almost like a shield.  However, Garuda sees that baleful light, her smile stolen from her.  "Soon, hated champion of light, you will see for yourself!" His Axe and her claw meet again, and like before, while she takes an appreciable amount of damage, it just narrowly avoids gutting her.   Solty's barrage through feathers as she tears through the battlefield, being sent low by Garuda's attack.  She dives in, and once more that feathered fiend is able to roll with the punches in a manner of speaking.  While they land, she is just a touch too slippery.  Stella too, sword in hand comes in to strike, and once more the bird god is struck, but just so NARROWLY manages to roll with the blow. Inga moves towards one of the remaining Satin plumes while burning away the feather near her, as well as the monstrous Garuda.  However, while some blood reaches her, most of it is lost in the gale force winds of the storm around them.  Seifer cuts through the feather, as the aura rolls out like before, protecting near them.  The aura continues to spread like the first one killed. Tomoe moves to finish off the rest of the feathers, clearing them up from the field of battle.  They go down easily enough, leaving nothing remaining as the two that mattered are already dead.  Krusty too, diving around the Primal with his axe, but Garuda was too slippery this time to get a solid blow...though even then, they were bleeding her out, and her previous combat... The spell she was channeling finishes...laughing again, she starts to raise...as a massive burst of wind strikes everything.  However, the plumes around N'Raha and Seifer protect the party, as her hurricane is turned into nothing more than a strong gust of wind. "My power...no!" However, that was the last words she would say for now, as before she could say anything else there was a subtle change in the air.  As the wind gave change to...an inferno.  It goes from the cool storm to BLAZING hot, as on the edge of the battlefield, Ifrit appears.  The force of the Primal enough to send Garuda from the field, licking her wounds. Now, before you is the diabolical looking Ifrit, blasting a wave of heat for all.  However, this time, strange spikes hit around the battlefield, radiating dangerously with intense heat.   

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh. Oh this wasn't right, this wasn't how things went at all, this...     Narratively, of course this is how things happened, and N'raha lances out, smiling grimly as he dives for cover under the protective magics, letting the horrible winds push and shove over the barriers     And then Garuda slinks back, skulks away like the petulant bird she is, letting the hateful flames take over. The heat is unbearable, and that viso snaps shut again, as he wades out of the now dissapating barrier. The ake lowers long enough for the catman's aether flare over, as he bolsters himself with ambient magicks in what's now the Bowl of Embers. "And now you, Lord of Flames? What damage have you wrought, what evils have you unleashed upon this Star, that you have yet to atone for? COME. Your deliverance and punishment lies with me. We shall send you back to the depths of the Void, and you can tell the Ascians I sent you! HAVE AT YOU."     The axe comes up and around, as he calls to the group. "THE SPIKES! FOCUS ON THE SPIKES. I WILL HOLD HIM IN PLACE." 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty holds up her arms again as that heatwave washes over the battlefield. "Aaaah! S-so hot!" she says with a grimace. One of those spikes lands hear her and Solty once again follows N'raha's advice. She kicks it like one might kick a long goal in soccer, hoping to either shatter it or send it flying away. And probably earning a nice sear for her trouble. "Nnng..."      She does the same on a few more spikes, then finally turns her attention to Ifrit himself. She runs up as fast as she can, leaving a wake up dirt and rocks like a jetski might leave a wake of water, and puts all that running power into a punch aimed at Ifrit's knee! 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Inga drives home that N'Raha was right about the feathers, oh was he ever she doesn't want to know what would happen. She takes a good deal less damage thanks to the efforts of Seifer and N'Raha? The damage she takes is so much less than it could have been otherwise. She watches Garuda fall to their assault, yet now she stares at the demon looking thing before her and she just gets this moment of, oh what the frak is this. She's already moving to get ready to keep fight, yet? The spikes worry her, and with N'Raha's warning? It's confirmed, get the spikes, oh god get the spikes. Tomoe will move in with her blade and start hacking at the nearest of the spikes, she doesn't know which one is the right one but better to clear them all than to risk it. "You heard him get the spikes!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga leans into the wind, holding tightly to her staff as Garuda lets loose her wind storm. But the special feather near herself and N'raha does indeed protect them from what could have been a wind that would blow them all away. Inga grits her teeth and prepares for another onslaught from the primal, only to find Garuda retreating and Ifrit taking her place. She gawks briefly, met with a fire giant such as this. Its rather intimidating, and the air around them quickly becomes stifling. All the better reason to get this done quickly. Inga feels that familiar vertigo sensation of a vision, and for a moment she stands still, her eyes wide and staring...when she comes back to the moment, she hears N'raha shouting about the spikes and knows exactly what he means. Inga turns toward the nearest spike, squinting her eyes against the heat it radiates, hoping her eyebrows aren't scorching off. She reaches for her knife and again cuts into herself, allowing the blood to pool and solidify into several blood spears, which she flings one after the other at the nearest spike, her brow furrowed, eyes glowing with determination and ferocity. As soon as the spike she was aiming at was done for, she turns her attention on Ifrit. "You may know not how beings such as yourself are slain upon my world. I will give you a taste!" she cries, and raises her staff, the runes upon it's length flashing to life with brilliant, blue-white energy. The air crackles around her, humming with potential energy ready to be released. A loud CLAP sounds as a lightning bolt manifests, striking down from above onto Ifrit. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty steadies himself against Garuda's attack, but finds it unnecessary as her power has been drained. He straightens again as the bird lady is driven from the field, to be replaced by the firery monster that is Ifrit. Krusty narrows his focus on the Primal. A boss change is unfortunate, as it means more mechanics they are unfamiliar with. But N'Raha is the one to bring the knowledge this time.     However, Krusty is not about to leave the cat to fend of Ifrit's assaults on his own, so Krusty charges forward into range of the Primal and then plants his axe into the ground in front of him. Calling out to N'Raha he says, "I will assist!" Krusty announces another skill, "Heavy Armor Stance!"     A chain of light manifests just in front of Krusty, before whipping out towards Ifrit. Being intangible, it passes into the large beast to temporarily restrict its movements and keep it from moving too far away from Krusty. Assuming the Primal cannot break the skill's hold on it.     Hoping to reduce the pressure on N'Raha, Krusty then charges in and begins assaulting Ifrit with his axe. 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     Oh, she's dead. That's... good?     Stella still isn't sure how this works.     And it didn't even stop the wind from ripping one of Stella's arms off! Rude. Crackling, prismatic crystals burst out of her shoulder to replace the lost limb, but that was still very inconvenient. And it's wasting stamina.     Then there's another opponent; well, Ifrit and Titan had been visible from the start, so at least they were nice enough to wait until Garuda died to step in. It'd have been a mess to fight all three, right?     Looks like there's... weird... monolith things this time. 'Nails'. They just look like nasty flaming spikes to Stella. But they do look Important!     Stella slams her foot into the ground, and several pillars of prismaticl crystals burst out from under one of Ifrit's nails! What's more, as Inga unleashes lightning, the reflection of the lightning in the crystal spikes energizes them, and they burst into several bolts of lightning themselves. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      And now everything's on fire.      "Fuck it, alright!"      Of course Seifer's fine with this. His blood's hotter than the flames of Hell. Ifrit's fire is nothing compared to Seifer's boiling passion. The blaze against his skin is painful, but another slash from Hyperion cuts through fire, too. That's right, fire can be cut also. There's nothing Seifer's blade can't cut.      The spikes stick up around them. They're burning hot. Seifer ignores them. Seifer ignores them twice as hard when N'raha shouts to get them.      "Don't remember when you got promoted past me, motherfucker," Seifer says to the cat as he walks forward into the fire, "But you don't get to give me orders just 'cause you're loud. I'm a Hand of the Concord. You're some asshole who decided he was in charge. You wanna boss me around, you gotta earn that right."      He strolls leisurely past N'Raha and into Ifrit's line of sight. Hyperion doesn't come out this time. He tilts his head to the side. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Let's show this damn cat how it's done."      "Gilgamesh!"      The giant just sort of falls out of the sky. There's a spear in one hand, and a more samurai-esque outfit than usual. Next to him is a green chicken. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      "Eh? Isn't that different? Enkidu, who is this?"      The flying green thing just shrugs. Seifer makes a gesture. "Motherfucker, give me a Draw!" 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      "A...oh, I think I remember this from a long time ago. Or, perhaps, the future! Or maybe the yet-to-come! Or the never-was! It has a sort of nostalgic flavor, like something I drank a long time ago in a smokey bar. Enkidu, help me out with this!" 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      The chicken clucks loudly. The samurai holds up an arm and concentrates. A blue orb congeals into it; Seifer snatches it out of the samurai's hands and forces it into Hyperion's blade.      The samurai simply watches from afar. "Hmmm, but this does feel awfully familiar...like an old coat, I- eh? Oh, sorry, Enkidu! You know how I get lost in my memories. Ha ha ha ha ha!" 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer raises his blade.                        LIMIT BREAK - CRISIS LEVEL ONE                                                   THEATRO DE SUPERBIA                                  The world fades out. The burning hellscape vanishes. In its place is a sprawling tournament field, the sort found in a chivalric romance. There are stands, there are banners. There are faceless knights with guns. There are empty modern clothes, invisible people with a thunderous cheer.      Seifer stands in the middle.      Ifrit stands on the other.      Seifer lunges forward. His speed's gone up. His strength, too. Where he had before been fast, now he's unearthly. Where he'd been strong, he's now ridiculous. On this killing field, this superb theater, Seifer's already godlike skill is pushed to the limit. His blade is glorious and beautiful to watch, an artisan's work, a masterpiece of his craft. In moments, he's carved into Ifrit. In moments, he's on the other side, shouldering his blade.      He waves at the royal stand, where an empty Japanese dress, fox ears, and a tail sit. Seifer blows a kiss and throws a rose to her, and the vision fades out, the hellfire returning.      Seifer looks over his shoulder. His grin is wild. His eyes are mad.      He didn't just seize the narrative, he *rewrote it* for a minute.      What a powerful imagination. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The inferno rages, even as Raha rages against the narrative of the story.  The Minstral ignores him because of course, it didn't happen this way, he's EMBELLISHING!  Also if you don't stop complaining, he's putting this on loot master and giving the new ax to Seifer.   However, the Axe comes RIGHT Into the face of Ifrit, however the massive fiend presses back with one of his horns, his voice etherial, but very very real.  "That baleful light will not overcome me a second time!" Solty fires her punch RIGHT into the knee of the massive form of Ifrit, however, his flames seemed to cause flash evaporation of water, dulling her blow as she tries to crack his kneecaps.  While not as heavy, it WAS doing something.   Tomoe swings into spikes, trying to destroy them before they can empower SOME upcoming attack!  She does her best, taking out one and starting on another.  Krusty charges with Raha, trying to help him keep control of Ifrit.  His axe comes in, but Ifirit's hand comes out to catch the blade. His head swivels towards Krusty, flames pouring out of its nose.  It does not look happy. Inga burns down more nails, aiming to try and keep them all dead before they can do whatever horrible magic they had planned.  However, this time, she aims her blood towards Ifrit, aiming to take advantage of the two tanks keeping his attention elsewhere and then hit with pure electrical magic, causing it to rear back in agony and growls in rage.  Stella outright destroys one nail, while the electrical energy surges throughout the entire arena, remaining nails go up in smoke, and Ifirt looks UNHAPPY.   Seifer's skill impresses reality as he sees fit, the stage changes, the knightly field he imagines is impressed onto the area, instead of the raging inferno.  Ifrit on one side, Seifer on the other.  The moonlight shining down as they brawl.  Back and forth they dance, monster against Knight, but no matter how hard he struggles...Ifrit matches blade with claw, strike with armor... Eventually, the dream is burning, as the aetherial properties try and reassert themselves.  As to give insult to injury... Ifirt jumps away, landing in the center of the Arena.  "HELLFIRE CONSUME YOU!" he bellows out, as from him the primal seems to explode, four pillars of flame wash out in all directions.   As the hellfire washes out, N'raha sees something happen, as if the earth beneath them starts to rumble, as strange cracks form and magma starts to spew.  The same happens with Solty, it does no damage now, but something is aiming to start bursting.   

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Awwwwww crap Raha remembers this stuff. That said, he is still the Tank and de facto party lead, no matter how much Seifer complains. Besides, he's been here before and Seifer hasn't.     Also RED CIRCLE BAD. The catman's eyes narrow as he plants his feet, the Hellfire blast non-lethal thanks to the efforts of his companions, but it still bakes and sears at his flesh inside of the magitek armor.     The axe comes up and around though, as he starts to maneuver around Ifrit. Not that he's moving slowly, no. He's shifting out of the pocket of incoming MURDERFIRE, and carving swings of his axe along the flank of the Lord of Flames, jabbing and poking and harassing, all the while letting the Light of Hydaelyn poison the Aether of the Eikon. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer can dodge fire. Mostly. It's not perfect - he still gets caught, still gets hit, a little bit of fire scoring across his chest. It's far less bad than it could've been, in no small part because he's really good at dodging and cutting fire.      And then N'Raha gives him shit about it over the radio.      'I'll just let you get murdered.'      Like Seifer can't take care of himself.      'By the GIANT FIRE GOD.'      Like Seifer hasn't already killed a god.      Seifer presses his teeth together. Like the only person keeping them alive is that guy, who decided he was in charge because he said so. Inga tries to placate with 'it's not orders, it's just advice!', but Seifer's not having any of that.      He whirls past Ifrit.      Hyperion comes slashing down, and it's not aiming for Ifrit, as Seifer plants himself between N'Raha and the hellish fire-god. It's aiming for N'Raha.      "You don't!" Seifer's blade flashes.      "Give /me/!" Hyperion comes upwards for the cat's face,      "ORDERS!" The blade shakes as gunpowder goes off inside it, a furious, painful, cutting vibration.      "You ain't fuckin' earned that!" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga watches with a degree of satisfaction as her lightning does a great deal of damage, and seems to have been empowered or piggy-backed on by Stella, causing even more destruction. Even with all their attacks, Ifrit still stands and continues to fight back. Hellfire is unleashed, but Inga is ready to guard against it. She brings her knife up again to direct her blood, forming a quick ward around herself. It's warm, for certain, but when the fires die down she's not burned. Inga moves to make sure she isn't near one of the cracks forming in the ground, then begins to contemplate her next assault. Lightning seems to have done the trick, so she may as well keep up a good thing. Another crack of lightning sounds, blasting toward Ifrit. 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     Suddenly, there is fire everywhere.     And it's kind of awful!     At least the flames aren't hot enough to melt Stella, because while she can regrow from that, having her joints clump up and re-harden is a huge, huge pain. Hot enough or not, though... Hellfire is still Hellfire, and scorches the crystal golem quite badly. But where there's fire, there's... the ability to use fire?     That's how that works for Stella.     She flings her hands to the side, half a dozen blades of crystal forming in the air and then launching straight for Ifrit. The blades erupt into a blazing inferno on their way over, entirely reminiscent of Ifrit's own. There's even a hit of lightning in the flames, as the crystaline swords' surfaces show not just Ifrit's fire but Inga's lightning as well. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh. Well. That's new.     There's a moment in time where N'raha is suddenly attacked by a party member. Now Seifer has been jabberjawing at him all night, but he didn't actually think that the fellow would come over and TRY AND KILL HIM.     There's a brief moment that he's worried that an Elite had been Tempered by Ifrit and then...     Wait no, he's just an asshole.     That said, the catman bolsters himself through the swat, taking it point blank because his hand lashes out, and catches Seifer in the chest. "MOVE YOU IDIOT." And he bodily hauls Seifer out of The Red Circle Of Death. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty struggles against the the strength of the all mighty Ifrit, simply staring down the large Primal with a determined face... Is that a bead of sweat creeping down the side of his forehead? Well, it is hot in here.     Krusty breaks free of the struggle as Inga's lightning cause the beast pain.     Krusty backs off for the moment to recover, steadying himself just in time for the blast of fire. He raises his hand to shield his face, but thankfully finds the searing flames to be not all that harmfell.     After the flames past, Krusty pulls a bottle out from seemingly nowhere. He chugs down the potion, an aura of light washing over him in the process and healing some of the wounds he has sustained. Krusty returns his focus to the fight just in time to see Seifer directly attack N'Raha. Krusty frowns at the idea of attacking an ally mid fight. Very impolite. He quietly admits that Seifer may just be a bit of a lunatic. And Krusty is greatful it's not something he has to worry about very often.     Since N'Raha is likely to be a little distracted, Krusty moves to try and take Ifrit's focus off the cat. Taking a deep breath, Krusty raises his axe into the sky and unleashes a resounding battlecry that visibly ripples through the air towards Ifrit. After unleashing his Anchor Howl skill to draw aggro, Krusty charges forward and starts digging his axe into Ifrit repeatedly. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty tries to leap away from the flame pillars, but the unsteady ground beneath her feet causes her to stumble and she instead gets caught completely in the fire. "Aaaah!" She cries out from the pain of being burned, then notices that the ground has only cracked beneath her and N'Raha. "Is this like those tornadoes?!" she asks urgently even as she runs away from the group for fear of either some kind of eruption at her original location or even worse one that follows her.      But, she doesn't want to not hit the big fire monster, so she punches into the ground and picks up a large rock before throwing it at Ifrit! 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' The spikes are being hammered on pretty hard but it's not quite enough, to bring down the Primal, still they are still standing when the hellfire comes and it's something she had a feeling that was coming, the Iron Lily moves for all she's worth and is able to barely leap and then roll out of the blast range of the very dangerous magic spell. She's up on her feet an gets the idea she should be kept back, then Seifer just goes after N'Raha and she screams internally why is this happening? There's no time to worry about that or even jump in on it, the primal has to be handeld while keeping out of the area that N'Raha warned them about. She'll keep back chanting another spell she'll let loose on the Primal, this one is a focused gust of wind rather than fire or light from her part, it seems she's got a few more spell types than she normally lets on to. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      Seifer's foot comes up into N'Raha's chest as N'Raha makes the grab for him. He shoves the cat backwards, at the same time sliding back out of the circle.      "Keep disrespecting me, motherfucker," Seifer snarls, "You see what happens."      "I don't care what you think you know. I don't give a shit what you think you are. You haven't earned the right to bark orders at me. You don't get to be in charge because you said so. This shit doesn't work like that. You get respect when you show me you're worth respecting." 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' "You still stand?!" Ifirt says, to the surprise of nobody who has ever faced Ifirt ever.  "Thou art strong!" he bellows returning to the fray.   Raha comes in first, aiming to try and put some pain on him, to draw his attention.  The focus of the Primal changes...though he manages to roll with the blow enough to avoid being murdered.  However, Seifer comes in out of nowhere, aiming to cut them BOTH.  Once more, the Primal stays on the move, trying to stay one step ahead... "How interesting, you fight amongst yourselves!" Ifirit bellows, almost laughing. Stella rains down crystals onto the form of Ifrit, who turns to look at her.  The heat of the Primal enough to warp the crystals enough from being as sharp as they SHOULD be, and while his body takes the pain, the natural toughness seems to hold out.  Lightning rains down from Inga, using the shards as an attempt to direct it more effectively.  Unfortunately, while the attack found purchase, there were not as many crystals to use. Krusty swings the axe, trying to find purchase on the body of Ifirt.  The damage, to their collective benefit, is piling up.  The Ether pushes the form of the Primal to limits...but even then it can only hold for so long.  Solty joins into the chorus of Krusty's violence, throwing...A ROCK!  Grundy would be proud.   Tomoe finds that their wind based magical attack seems to fizzle against the Fire soaked aether of the Primal, and while it should have worked, the magical field surrounding the battle seemed to be interfering with her. Ifirt does take notice of this...but... Solty had reason to be wary, as the ground beneath them soon ERUPTS into an explosion.  However, N'Raha decided to STAND their ground, not avoiding the effects of Ifirts ERUPTION.   However, the wounds done to Ifirt were enough, as it was not summoned with the full might of the glory of his people.   "The blessing of light defies me..." Falling back into the flames, however, a new threat drops down from the ceiling.  The massive form of Titan.  The Earth shakes, as immediately everything goes into upheaval.  Attempting to throw people back away from himself with the force of his landing.   "SONS OF MAN!  MURDERS OF MY CHILDREN!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The whole force of everything, all that damage, all of it, washes over N'raha, bakes him straight to the core, blasts his armor off his body, cakes his flesh, scorches at him, curls his air, singes his ears and leaves him a bare, baked cinder on the ground.     Except no. No, that didn't happen. Because now the catman is standing toe to toe with his hated foes, his one goal in life, his deathly opponents, and there's nothing for it but...     The fire dies away, the smoke clears, the rubble from Titan's emergence clears, the dust settles, and there stands N'raha. Slaked from head to toe in murderous, awful, sickly red aether, his pure Wrath on full display, as an Aetheric Chain locks him directly in place with Titan. Face to face. No one where else to turn, as the HOLMGANG smoudlers, his Inner Beast fully riled.     Yes. Yes, this was exactly how this all went, wasn't it?     The mask on his helmet opens, and there stands N'raha, his eyes blazing, his body scorched, everything ruined and awful, and he just smiles, blood running down his features. "Hello, old man. And.... GOODBYE."     There's a horrible flashover of energy, and the Warrior of Light raises his axe, magic slaking off him in waves as he lifts up into the air, does a flip and brings that axe straight down STRAIGHT DOWN onto Titan's head. 

:'''{{#var:1086|Seifer Almasy (1086)}} has posed:'''      The earthquake throws Seifer backwards. He lands on his face, face-down in the dirt.      This is the last straw.      Seifer snaps his fingers. Gilgamesh, still sitting on the sidelines - just sort of hanging off to the side on another platform, now - looks up from the chicken. He's been having an animated conversation with it.      The huge grey man tosses another blue ball to Seifer. Seifer snatches it out of the air and slams it into Hyperion. "Motherfucker, don't interrupt me when I'm making a point to somebody!"      Seifer's blade goes up, and comes down into the ground.                        LIMIT BREAK - CRISIS LEVEL ONE                                                     GOTTERDAMMERUNG                                    The top of the arena suddenly goes dark. Hanging in the air above Titan is what is unmistakably a spaceship. It's huge, black, sleek. It has an imposing, menacing aura. And, as Seifer raises his gunblade and points it at Titan, a red sighting beam comes out of it, locking directly onto Titan's center.      The cannons on the ship turn to point at it.      They unload. A massive, disgusting, destructive barrage. Laser fire. Cannon fire. Missile fire. It rains down on Titan, and the battlefield, with unbelievable force. As it exhausts its arsenal, a final cannon opens up, charging with incredible force.      And then it discharges, a devouring beam of light to consume Titan entirely. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Ifrit tags out for another giant beast, the force of his landing throwing her off her feet and painfully onto her behind. She lets out a hiss of breath, wincing as she looks up toward their next opponent... Only to see N'raha being attacked by Seifer, as well. Inga swears. This is ridiculous. "Could you not address your grievance at a later date, Seifer?! Let us get through this fight and then you can make the square for your fight. I ask you, please delay this duel!" she calls to Seifer. Perhaps she can appeal to him, perhaps not. It is worth a try. Inga gets to her feet, which takes even longer than usual. Even with her regeneration, she is beginning to feel the strain. But N'raha has been attacked by primal's /and/ Seifer, so she throws another blood magic heal in his direction. Fierce as he is looking, she's sure he can use it. They are all moving toward the crescendo of this battle. She can smell it in the air, feel it on her skin. The presence of the gods of war are with many now. She supposes she may as well go along with the ride. She opens the vein of her arm and begins to form an especially large spear of blood. She thrusts it forward on a wave of force to sail over the battle to attempt to strike down the latest primal adversary. 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     From Ifrit to Titan. Once again, the fact these Primals are apparently very impolite pays off. On the other hand, that's one thing Stella can't turn against them. Earthquakes don't really... reflect off surfaces.     Stella shakes and rumbles in the quake Titan generates, unsteady on her feet due to the vibrations. THAT'S EXTREMELY UNPLEASANT!! The equivalent of vertigo for fleshy people, really.     But at least it ends, eventually. And the cracked, battered golem shatters her broken limbs, allowing a burst of crystals to restore her body to... not quite perfection, this time. She's winding down.     Her eyes trail to Seifer, who in his anger strikes at N'raha, and then they argue and... okay, back to Titan. That's... good? She wasn't sure if she'd need to help Seifer kill a catman or not. What was that even about?     You know what's NOT confusing?     It's killing things.     Stella shakes her head, producing a massive blade of crystal after clasping her hands together. She runs after Seifer, and lets the light of his strike reflect off her skin, her clothes, her blade, like everything is one human-shaped mirror with a mirror sword.     The same light pours out and around her blade as she slices, releasing a beam of light that traces an X with Seifer's.     She doesn't shout anything because she doesn't have cool attack names. That's a huge shame.     At least she's taking example on Seifer though! He's a knight, that means he necessarily knows what he's doing, always. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty is struck hard by the impact, thrown from his footing and bouncing across the ground a few times. The knight in Warrior's clothing growns as he pushes himself back to his feet. Planting his axe into the ground, he leans against it as he takes a moment recover. He also uses the time to quickly examine the rough status of the fight. They appear to have the upper hand, but that could quickly fall out from under them in moments.     Trying to plot out the next moments of the fight, Krusty rushes back into the fight. But he's keeping his distance as he skirts around the new arrival that is Titan. As he does so, he whips his axe out in several swings, sending more crescents of light streaking across the distance between him and his target. The ranged strikes aren't very strong, simply harrassing the Primal while Krusty prepares for his final strike. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty's eyes are wide as that eruption happens right behind her, but she keeps running until it is clear she is out of danger. Then, she turns toward their new opponent. She doesn't know his name, and doesn't really have time to wonder as the ground buckles around her again, smashing her against rocks and shaking her something fierce.      When she manages to get back to her feet, the android girl is barely standing. Her usually perfect skin is marred by burns and slashes and outright broken in some places like the armor it is. Her monk robes are tattered and burned and half gone.      Yet, determination burns in her eyes and energy crackles over her body. "I won't give up!" she shouts as she charges in again. Her fists start to glow and blur again, and she leaps with all her might. Like some kind of bullet she goes flying at Titan, aiming as best she can at his chest. "Hyaaaaaaah!!" 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe learns something about Ifrit, wind magic is a bad idea about him, she was able to keep clear of the worst of it from him, she keeps back as it seems the collective effort was able to bring down the lord of flames, it has to be over, right? It has to be over, right? Nope it is not older as a huge hulking being of the earth makes himself known and she's nearly sent flying even then the quake doe a lot of damage to Tomoe as the ground splits and upheaves. She's able to keep standing but she's looking to be in pain. As everyone is getting the heck knocked out of them, it hits her, it really does or dies time against this gigantic being. She'll take her sword in hand, she'll chant a buff spell as it glows brightly with white fire, and then she'll let loose with a sword art, the blade glows even brighter now as she'll launch herself at Titan trying to do as much damage as she can and also try to keep him aimed away from the rest of the group who are all just unloading on it, maybe, just maybe they can take it down and for good measure she'll do a leaping jump cut as her Sword Art Finishes, but will such a savage assault be enough? 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Titan, gripped in the chain from N'Raha, relies on his best defense.  Being tough.  Even as the AXE came down, aiming to split the rock that was his head, the blow sinks in...narrowly avoiding being cut in twain.  The Massive titan grumbles, unhappy but still kicking.  This only gets worse as a literal airship unleashes hell on Titan.  Explosions tear through the area, and Titan is forced to endure.  Eventually, the cannon itself aiming to swallow Titan completely... When the smoke clears, the Primal stands, burning, sizzling...but he stands, somehow.  Clearly affected by the attack, but at the same time pushing forward with the rage of a father avenging his children. Inga sends a spear of blood through the air.  Titan roars in defiance, and his massive form crashes against the spear.  The spear shatters, but the rock, too, shatters.  Pain surges through Titan, but he still BARELY holds on.  Stella's blade of light crashes down, but this time the overwhelming force of the attack overtakes his defense.  A large chunk of the Primal is nearly blow off, causing the massive monster to breathe heavily, and visibly damaged.   Krusty swings, trying to find purchase in the armor of Titan, however, it was like punching a mountain.  Only overwhelming attacks were going to do much more than scratch it.  Solty goes in full offense, her fists empowered by her might.  She swings, and so too does Titan, the two collide in a massive show of power and the very earth QUAKES.  However, at the end of the assault...it was Titan who came out on top, pushing to deflect her blows. Tomoe's sword art comes down, aiming to cut pieces of the massive behemoth off.  Once more, the massive girth and defense of Titan holds off an attack that would easily fell lesser foes.  Primals were dangerous for a reason, and today it is apparent for everyone to see why.   Titan, however, howls in rage and pain.  Pushed to the brink, but quite not enough.  Roaring in pain, in anguish, in the loss of his children... He releases a massive wave of earth ether.  The ground itself erupts, threatening to throw them all from the battlefield.  The ground splits, the earth shatters...and in the end, Titan stands, shakily...but he does.   

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty is thrown by the ultimate attack unleashed by Titan, flying through the air before coming back down again. On impact he forcefully coughs up a spatter of blood, before finally coming to a rest, unmoving. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The wisewoman watches her blood spear fly, and while it does not impale the creature, it does appear to do some degree of damage. Everyone in the party wails on Titan, and it would seem that perhaps, they would finish this one quickly. But Titan endures. Titan lashes out, bringing his power down upon them. Before Inga can even process what is happening she is flying through the air again. She lands hard, letting out a cry of pain as something in her breaks. Even from this, she could recover given the time... Then a large rock lands on her, crushing her lower half. No sound escapes her now except one last, strangled breath. No, that she will not recover from. The life in her eyes flickers out. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Well, he's done literally as much as he is able to, at this point. N'Raha doesn't even flinch, doesn't even take his eyes off Titan as that smash comes in...     And with his last breath, the catman is tossed from his place, skidding to a halt in a trail of blood and aether, still and unmoving. 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     Titan releases his fury.     The earth gives way and shatters, and so does Stella, being of the earth. At least, she's made of crystal, not fleshy red stuff. It's not gross, or weird. It's a humanoid shattering into chunks of glowing, prismatic crystals that scatter to every bit of the battlefield.     ... what's left of the battlefield.     When Titan's fury calms itself, the crystals shimmer, motes of magic travelling between them into the largest piece, which then experiences an episode of explosive growth. First it reforms into a mess, that eventually regains its humanoid appearance, before retinting itself as though a human wearing clothes.     Scratched and cracked, and breathing heavily.     "Unpleasant. Dangerous. Is that really how that story went?" she questions, because clearly N'Raha is still alive.     Sadly, she lacks... energy. To do much.     And everyone's down! She can't piggyback their elements!     Stella, then, just lobs a blade towards Titan's heart. That'll... have to do. She needs to regain her composure and beat, hopefully before Titan does that again. 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty leaps...and somehow just goes flying right past Titan. "...uhoh..."      Before she can get turned around and try again, that wave of earth power smashes into her. Solty is thrown back and lands hard far from the battle, electricity sparking from several places. Perhaps nonsensically since she is a machine, she is apparently unconscious. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Has cleared learned something important today from this Bard's story has shown her first hand how dangerous the Primals are a terror to deal with and one must pay attention to every strange thing they do or a lot of people could be in the ground or from what she's been made aware of? Worse than dead, however, Titan is just too much for her with her aiding Inga for a good portion of the fight. She's given it quite the effort but her earlier confusion may have cost them in the long run, she will just get flattened by Titan's fur. Tomoe laying there not moving a mess of wireframe damage laying there, what is she doing? Inspecting the floor for the moment because she can't do much else. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' The ground upheaves...and only Stella remains on her feet.  Six others fall, and besides this last hero, standing tall and giving a final stand...Titan remains.  Eyes blazing, the heart of hate thumping.  Even as the blade aimed at his heart strikes, the body of the Primal is still not so easily struck. Titan rears back, Fist raised in the air as it swings down, the ground splits in three different ways, leaving only a little room to avoid the assault, as the earth itself attempts to SLIDE her towards the exit of the arena, and to (un)certain death.   "FEEL THE RAGE OF MY SLAIN CHILDREN!" 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     Stella's been broken apart by Titan's earthen might one time, she's not about to underestimate another incoming attack. She still questions if this is ACTUALLY how that went, though.     Maybe the bard is full of it?     "I did not slay your children," she says, flatly.     No, she doesn't understand the obvious.     Stella dives to the side, legs caught and torn up by the raging landscale. She tumbles to the ground, her broken legs unable to keep her steady. The cracks and missing chunks mend themselves, at least.     Swinging an arm towards the Primal, she lobs another chunk of crystal at his earth, this time a jagged, spiked sphere that'll grow explosively if allowed to penetrate, but then remain there relatively harmlessly. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Crystal hits Titan, it's outer shell, even as damaged as it is manages to hold together.  Rumbling, the massive Primal starts stomping on the ground, weathering the blow and drawing up Aether into itself again.  Each step takes it closer towards its target. It does not hear her words or even care that she, SPECIFICALLY, did not kill the Kobalds.  It only cares that she counts as a man, and stands before him as an enemy.   The feet stomp down, repeatedly coming down as the earth rumbles.  The force of the stomp is enough to send shockwaves throughout it.  " 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     Now Titan won't even speak.     Maybe that's for the better, Stella isn't good at it either. Titan has a wide and elegant vocabulary compared to her.     Titan steps on Stella, though.     That sucks.     It sounds a lot like stepping on broken glass, Titan repeatedly hammering Stella's form as it breaks apart, rebuilds itself, breaks apart again and-- she raises an arm.     And clenches her fist.     The crystal growth she'd lobbed at Titan's heart detonates into a flurry of massive, jagged crystal spikes. Hopefully, inside Titan! 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' Stella has almost nothing left to give.  Alone and faced with Titan.  The story drums up, reaching a climax.  Inwardly...the explosive crystal embedded within titan finally explodes.  Not with the strength of arms that he was taken down...but with trickery.   "Run my children, hide in the dark.  The light will not be denied..." Titan, leaping back, now stands with the other Primals, defeated.  Even then, they...look intimidating. Here, the Bard stops, taking a drink of water.  "I think I need to take a break telling this story.  You all look...rather tired." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     And there, in the middle of the group, sitting next to Inga, is N'raha, his head in his hands, his beer empty in front of him. His ears are drooped, and he's just... well. Exhausted.     "None of that is how it went. Just... Please, Minstrel, I appreciate your... enthusiasm. It is very... infectious. And I mean that in the nicest way as possible. But... have you ever considered telling the story... normally?"     A plaintive look, as the catman's tail lashes against the chair. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:''' "N'Raha, do I tell you how to kill primals?" The Minstrel fires back, taking another sip and looking plenty saucy. 

:'''{{#var:1149|Krusty (1149)}} has posed:'''     Krusty stand as calm and as cool as he usually is, moving a hand to adjust his glasses, "It was a rather... Gruelling tale. Thrilling in its telling. I commend you for your skill, sir. If only the bards in my own world had a similar talent for the art." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "...No, no you do not." And it's not like N'raha can just tell him to NOT tell stories. That would be rude. Like, very rude for some reason. He can complain to this man, but... refuse him? Something seems... wrong about that. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks...well, she's still staring into space. She's probably gone. Someone may need to poke her. 

:'''{{#var:6756|Stella (6756)}} has posed:'''     In the excitement of the tale, it seems Stella has detached one of her arms and is holding it up with the other, awkwardly.     "How did it happen, if not like that?" She's curious. Too bad N'Raha is probably too tired to go over the story. 

:'''{{#var:6|Tomoe (6)}} has posed:''' Tomoe is quite drained by the tale but she's got a big old grin on her face. "tyhat was a heck of a story and I never seen anyone do something quite like that." She's tired though maybe she can get something to eat. It was one hell of a fight. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha just looks at Stella, and sighs. "I'll tell you some other time, when it doesn't feel like my soul's been dragged through the void." He casts another glance to the Minstrel, and... actually bows to the man, before standing up and patting Inga on the back. "Hey, you. Wake up." 

:'''{{#var:6704|Solty Revant (6704)}} has posed:'''      Solty blinks several times as the visions fade, then looks around in confusion. "Oh...wow that was intense! And it wasn't even real?" she says, hopping up and looking herself over for any actual damage. Nothing. She feels a bit drained, but overall pretty good for fighting three giant monsters. "Fighting is kind of fun when no one is going to get hurt!" she says energetically. 
}}

6228/A Simple Meeting ft. Watch and Scions

2018-12-13T04:17:28Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/12/12 |Location=The Mist, Eorzea |Synopsis=The Watch meet with key members of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and Morgan tries to step up to t..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/12/12
|Location=The Mist, Eorzea
|Synopsis=The Watch meet with key members of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and Morgan tries to step up to the Queen.
|Cast of Characters=819, 525, 6716, 6331, 6843
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The place? A lovely little cottage in The Mist, the adventurer's community near Limsa Lominsa in Eorzea. It's a coastal area, with houses packing a cliffside nook overlooking the ocean. The place itself is cosy enough for someone who is apparently a major dang hero. You'd think Raha would rate better than a cottage.     Inside, on the first floor, someone's set up a large kitchen table with snacks and food. There's chairs arranged around to give people places to mingle, and a large map of Eorzea hangs up on the wall.     Two people seem to be the hosts tonight. N'raha himself is getting snacks arranged just right on the table, while a small Lalafell mills around a bit, adjusting chairs and fussing a bit. "Oh! Raha, are they nice this time around? I mean, Miss Setsuko was nice once we figured out she wasn't actually a Primal, but... oh." Tataru huffs and panics a moment, before adjusting an armchair for the fifth time.     "It'll be fine, Tataru, just... calm down. The food and everything else will suffice. Are Minfilia and the rest on their way?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga is perhaps one of the first to arrive, simply because she actually knows where she was going this time. She's dressed a little less archaically today, in a green velvet dress with long sleeves that comes down to her mid-calf, a wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She still has her belt, from which hangs a knife, small leather pouch and a few talismans made of bone. She rapts on the door with the end of her oak staff, waiting on the threshold with a thoughtful set to her brow, lips slightly pursed. Eventually, she opens the door and peeks her head inside, thinking perhaps her knock was not heard. This was the right place, she was sure of it. "N'raha?" 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' For a moment, Morgan entertained the idea of just kind of sliding out of a nearby floorboard and casually taking a seat at the table like some kind of terrible capricious elemental spirit. But, you know, maybe it's not the best idea. Last time, that ended with giant icicles being shot through his everything! That was just not comfortable. Instead, he... takes the front door! Like a normal person! What a weird notion, actually taking doors for once. It's a strange and unfamiliar sensation, waiting out in the dusk for someone to come to the door. "Raha, this where you're living? Pretty nice place. I like the location." It's next to the sea! That must be really nice. 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' May has been occupied for a while. She even went back to Ribble to check on the place, and you never go back to Ribble if you can avoid it (for starters, there's very little there worth going to). But she's back, and a Watch gathering is sufficient to get her attention. She really does need to check in with the Watch again, after all. Which is why, when someone knocks at the door and then opens it (Inga), there is suddenly someone else behind her. That person is May, a blonde centaur with a bow at her flank and a quiver of arrows at the small of her back, wearing red. "I couldn't help but hear that you were looking for the place, too. Mind if I, uh, tag along?" She smiles, broad. Maybe she can get an introduction from Inga and save her some awkwardness. ...That she doesn't know Inga exactly, either, is kind of glossed over. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:'''     "Yes, it will be FINE Tataru," A white haired slip of a man says, sitting at a table with a book on it. His eyes look up, as he smiles to her. Trying to be reassuring at the least. Across from him, another white haired woman, with dark skin and cat ears upon her head also stare up, as those who have come start to filter in.     "Yes, Tataru, I am sure things will go much more smoothly this time around." She says, as both of them rise from their spots.     "Greetings," The small Elvish looking boy(girl?) says, taking a small bow as he speaks, "I am Alphinaud Leveilleur. This is my friend Y'shtola." She nods her head, obviously not one for formalities.     "Informal, but I suppose it will have to do. Seeing as we could not get funds to host in The Quicksand," He says, somewhat put out. Of course, it's not like HE manages the money.     Y'shtola has decided to take a step out of the way between him and Tataru. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Tataru does in fact stomp her little feet across the living room and rap Alphinaud on the knee. "It's fine! And you just watch yourself, that sake's imported!" She huffs, and then hauls herself up on a chair as Raha starts letting people in. "Hey, get comfortable I... uh." He blinks a bit at May, and murmurs. "Not sure if I've got a good spot for a horselady but, uh. I can find a futon?" He blinks and bit and scrambles downstairs, as another person filters her way into the room. She's blond, petite, with a rather elaborate hairstyle and a pink leather and cloth outfit. Tataru waves at the lady. "She's here!"     Raha is just coming up with the large cushion for May, when he nods at the last Scion. "Annnnnd this is Minfilia, one of the other Scions with the Echo."     The blonde blushes a bit, but demurely covers it up. "It is a pleasure to see you all, even if the times seem to have increased the need for a meeting such as this. Please, find refreshments and we'll go through what you all need to know. And we can answer questions." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga turns to address the woman behind her, and is rather surprised to see a woman that is much taller--and half /horse/. This is a first for Inga, and for a moment she just blinks. "Oh, hello. Yes. This is the place. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare," she adds. People are shuffling inside now, so Inga just moves on in. She bows a little over her walking staff to those introducing themselves, and to N'raha, for hosting. "It is a pleasure to meet you all. I am Inga Freyjasdottir," she introduces, then would take a seat nearby, her keen gaze traveling over the Scions and those assembled from the Watch. She places her staff across her knees and rests her hands gently upon it, her thumb idly tracing a rune carved into the wooden surface. She helps herself to a drink, pouring some sake. She sniffs it, takes a sip. She winces slightly, but the expression is quickly replaced with calm. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' Morgan peers at the strange horse-woman out of the corner of his eye like he's not quite what to make of her. His eye is only somewhat more incredulous when he sees the wiggling feline ears on several of his hosts. But hosts are hosts, yeah? The raggedly dressed youth shrugs his shoulders and moseys his way in. "Really nice place you guys've got here," he chirps, brightening. "Been awhile since I've been in a place this nice. Food's over here?" Even if he might not necessarily need to eat anymore, that doesn't mean he can't /enjoy/ a meal. Warm ricewine and hearty clam chowder are rare treats he'd never turn down. "Pleased to meet you. Name's Morgan Berselius, paladin and monster hunter. Hope we can all work well together~" 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:'''     Alphinaud jumps a little at the hit. "Ow..hey!" he says, frowning. Y'shtola laughs, as if it was fully expected (It was.)     "I believe they are called Centaurs." She says, politely to Raha.     "Hello, Antecedent. I believe your helper has taken offense to my suggestion of a different venue." he complains to Minfillia. Y'shtola on the other hand seems more bemused than anything, "Evening, Fillia." She says, more familarily.     "Well met, all of you." Alphinaud says again, "I am of course here to help our mutual friend with answering any questions you might have." 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' "It's fine," May says, in response to Inga's look (and Morgan's, even if he doesn't say anything to her). "Centaurs are pretty common at home but I know they're not everywhere, and even where they are they don't live with humans much. Where I'm from, though, it's pretty mixed..." Which is probably why she doesn't bat an eye at the cat-people, either. May becomes careful as soon as she goes inside, because hooves plus hardwood floors can equal a mess if she isn't. She walks carefully and a little slowly, but every step she takes is still loud enough to carry. But she's used to human-style houses, so it's not the first time. "Hello!" she says, brightly. "I'm May." For someone who was worried about being introduced a few moments ago, she's over it now. It helps that there are multiple people who don't know each other - she thought it might be a planning session with her the odd one out. "And it's fine, I can stand! I don't mind. Or use the floor." Honestly, she always feels low when she's on her stomach and everyone else has a chair... though maybe not with the lalafell around. "And yes, I'm a centaur." She does go over to poke at the refreshments before she finds a spot, though. She certainly isn't shy about that. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha smiles at people and then winks to Inga as he settles in, and... lets out a lot of stress out of his shoulders and frame. There's friends here, and teammates, and possibly comrades if everyone plays their cards right.     Minfilia for her part purses her lips and gazes at the group in turn before starting out. "I'm Minfilia Warde, and I am the leader of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. We are named such because we have tasked ourselves with protecting Eorzea, and shepherding our people out of the last Calamity. A Calamity caused by the Garlean Empire." A beat. "Who have shown themselves today on the public frequencies, clearly, which has a lot of people on edge among the Eorzean Alliance."     A glance to Raha. "Our good friend N'Raha, and his fellow Warriors of Light, helped put an end to Garlean Aggression into our region of Hydaelyn not too long again, but it appears that the sword must needs be taken up again, as it were."     Raha shifts a bit in his seat, and looks to Shtola and Alphinaud. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:'''     "That is a bit more complicated than that, Anticedant," Alphinaud says, "While the empire did start the project...it was likely not known by it's former emperor what it was. Not only that, the voice heard today was the Prince...who has sided with the now, apparent, emperor...which means the war of Succession has come to and ned."     Y'shtola nods, grimly, "Thrancred is out there confirming details, of course, but it does appear that the empire has ended the rebellion far sooner than we would have thought...likely due to the stablizing factors of another group..." she shrugs, "Who they have joined is still very much in the air at this time."     Alphinaud nods, "Nor do we know their continued goals towards Eorzia...rather they will pick up were Van Balsar left off, or focus their attentions elsewhere." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "It is good to meet all of you," Inga replies. She raises a brow at N'raha's wink and flashes him a slightly confused smile. It was a fairly good turnout. She hopes he is feeling encouraged by the attendance. Inga listens. She's fuzzy on some of the people and events mentioned, but thinks she understands at least the big picture. "Your enemies have joined the multiverse. I can do a bit of looking into it to find out to whom they have allied," she responds. "Perhaps they will not trouble you just now...one might hope. From what I understand, the Garleans are not the only problem you are dealing with," she says, sipping her sake again. No face this time. She was prepared. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' It's probably for the best that Morgan's not saying anything about all these weirdos all around him. His mouth has very little in the way of a filter after... everything. But he seems to be okay with Tataru and the various Miqs, at least! Maybe 'small person' doesn't twig enough in his head, and 'cat ears are adorable' takes precidence over anything else. "Garlean Prince, huh? That's the guy who was on the radio?" Morgan taps at the edge of his sakezuki between sips. "Hmmm, if they're able to drop the moon on things, that's no good. Can't imagine how much damage that could've done to the place. Should we keep expectin' similar trouble, or is their new Emperor uh. A little more reasonable?" 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' May ends up with sake and something she can't identify to eat that smelled good. She takes a sip from the sake, and... ... Well, this is not something May has had before, judging by the slightly watery-eyed expression. She swallows anyway and tries to look like she meant to do that, with mixed success. Maybe she should stick to water. She covers it by nibbling at the snack. She still has no idea what it is but she likes it better than the sake. "Wt - " May swallows and tries that again. "Wait, the moon? Like... the whole thing? I didn't hear about that..." She only heard part of the previous conversations. Her ears flatten down slightly before popping back up to normal. "I know of the, um, the monsters around here but I didn't hear about the Empire. Is it a demon empire, or... um, not? 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Minfilia sighs at Alphinaud and Shtola, and nods. "And I hope Thancred can find out more. It's good to know he's recovered from... being taken. So." She dusts her hands on her dress a little reflexively, before turnign to look at the The offer from Inga earns her a smile from Minfilia. "I understand you serve a... being much like the Mother Crystal. And that you've spoken with Hydaelyn. So, any assistance you can offer is appreciated on that front, Miss Inga."     She bows her head a little bit, and then quirks her head slightly at Morgan. "We must needs complete research on that subject to properly answer that question, Mr. Berselius. As of yet, we've driven off one Imperial Legion, the XIVth. If this new leader is planning to bring to bear the full might of the Empire, well." She frowns, and does not complete that statement.     May gets a look, and she turns to Alphinaud. "Missiuor Leveilleur can better explain the mechanics of Dalamud and what it did."     Raha grumbles a bit from his spot next to Shtola, a noise that sounds vaguely like '...ended the word, 's what it bloody did." 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:'''     Y'stola nods her head firmly, "Well, far be it from Thancred to listen to counsol, especially when it comes to 'rest'. No doubt he feels...responsible for the event, and given that his current condition prevents his work in our normal field, this would be something he can feel better about."     Alphinaud nods once, though he actually looks unwell for a moment, "To explain better, is to understand what Dalamud actually was. To that end, we...actually do not know much. Only that it was revealed to actually be an anchient device of a civilization called Alag. It housed a Elder Primal known as Bahamut, which lead to devistation all across Eorzia. It was finally brought to heel thanks to the sacrifice of Archon Louisoix Leveilleur."     He simply pushes on, after a short pause, "My sister, I believe, has been digging into the remains of the moon, though I know not what success she has brought. Of course, I would not mind good company from watching over her, lest she get in over her head. There is also one other part of the system, also being looked into by Cid Garlond. Though I know not what the Crystal tower had to do with the moon. He would likely have the details." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods. "Yes, I suppose that is true. I need not look into the wyrd to get information on this, though. I will ask around first," she adds with a small smile. She will look into it, in one way or anything. Inga listens to Alphinaud, managing to pay attention even as she struggles to figure out his age...or gender...or...why the men are all about as pretty as the women in this world. So strange. "Well, for whatever my services are worth, I am willing. Trying to stop worlds from ending has become more than a passtime," she responds with a touch of humor. Oh, its true, but it is still ridiculous. 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' May remembers that surname, but only because she heard it a few moments ago. She has enough tact to not ask immediately, though. "Okay," she says, instead. "Well, I wouldn't mind helping! Though, uh, I don't know very much about any ancient civilization, but I'm willing to learn! I left so I could make a difference and it sounds like maybe I could help. Though, I can't fight an army or anything on my own, so don't ask, but I can keep an eye on people, or go ruin-exploring...." She finishes the sake and then remembers why she hadn't done that yet. Her eyes water even more, and she struggles not to cough on it. Went down fine! Honest! 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' What's with all these people and not being able to handle their booze? Morgan just tips down another sip. It burns pleasantly all the way down. "This stuff's good. Only alcohol we get back home is this awful turnip-wine. Uh." Right, there's important topics on the table. "So there's a lot of stuff to worry about, but that doesn't answer the important question," Morgan says, swirling one last gulp of booze around in his dish. "What do you need /us/ to do? What of these other Primals? Is what the Prince said about their manifestations killing the world true? Do we spy on the Empire, or something like that? What's a Hydaelyn, a god? What's the difference between her and these Primals?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's ears slink back against his head, and he grumbles a bit more about worlds ending, but manages to come back to the here and now, loosening his collar and taking a bit out of some of the lovely imported Doman sweets. Nomf.     Minfilia smiles again at Inga and bows once more. "Then you do have a lot in common with Raha and the other Warriors." A brilliant little smile at Inga... and there's a glimpse, just for a moment for the Seer, of that same (lowercase) echo that she got when she first touched Raha, that flash of the Mother Crystal. Minfilia's a seer as well.     May's comments get Raha to perk up though. "Hey, if you can stand behind me and shoot things that are trying to beat the snot out of me, that's more than half the battle, really. The Crystal Braves are nice enough kids, but uh.." He scratches his cheek. "Sometimes they have a hard time keeping up."     Tataru gives Raha's leg a swat too as she shuffles past. 'Several of them are older than you are and have been fighting wars since before you were born!"     "Ow."     Morgan then touches on Specifics, and Raha takes part of that. "He's not wrong about the Primals. It's the same reason we fight them. They bring chaos, they cause disorder, and they slowly ruin the star, yes. Though we have no intrest in killing the Primals and then also subjugating the people that happen to live in the vague vicinity of said Primal." He dusts at his sweater. "And Hydaelyn..." A glance at Shtola, and then back to the group. "...you're standing on Hydaelyn. It's the star we all call home. And She's also my benefactor." 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:'''     Y'shtola says, calmly with the patience of a teacher, "Well, I imagine you should find his sister or Cid to find out more about the moon." She says, with that slight narrow of her eyes, "I shouldn't have to stand around with a mark over my head to tell you where to go, do try and think for yourself." she comments, "But to answer your other questions, "The best way to explain what the difference is, is to explain what a Primal itself is. It is, simply put, a collective unconcious construct. It requires a ritual to summon one, often borne of the wills of groups of people, often based on their collective belief. The stronger the offering, rather it be crystal or prayer, the stronger the primal. Among other...less savory methods to summon said gods. These beings are creatures that naturally exist only in the lifestream itself. However...when one is summoned, not only is the cost needed to summon them, but to substain them. Feeding it more crystals, and slowly draining the planet are matters of course." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga snickers a little at May's reaction to the sake. "I'm used to a sweeter taste," she says to her queitly. Sake would not be her alcohol of choice, for certain. Inga looks back to Minfilia, nodding to her. That echo is observed with a small smile. A fellow Seer. She's like N'raha in that they possess this Echo. She listens to the answers to Morgan's questions thoughtfully, tapping her fingernails gently against her staff. "I see. So when a primal is summoned, it draws energy away from Hydaelyn? This is perhaps a silly question...but does anyone make sacrifices to strengthen Her?" she asks. It is how she understands, relationships with the gods. Clearly Hydaelyn gives a great deal, but do her follows make offerings to strengthen her? Is that possible to do? She supposes stopping those who would weaken her is certainly something... 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' May asides to Inga, rather quietly, "I don't drink much." May brushes her hand against her bow, strapped to her flank and out of the way. "Well, I can do that!" she says, brightly and at a more normal volume. "I'm good at that. I can also scout and I've had to do some monster hunting so I know how to help with that too." Just no ladders, she thinks to herself. Ladders are the worst human invention. She also thinks about what she's been told. "If she's the star," May says, slowly, "wouldn't she be, uh, up in the sky? This is the planet. But you talk to her? What's that like?" You can't be a benefactor without talking to them! But it's the rest that gets her attention. "That sounds horrible! Why would anyone ever summon them if they're so bad for the world - well, you don't need to answer that, I know some people make horrible decisions. Monsters and demons do, too. You can count me in if you need help with that too." 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' "Well, I'm all for not wanting worlds to die. Seen that happen once too many times as-is," Morgan laughs over the lip of his dish. "Ah well, that does make it a bit easier though. The fact that their presence in this world needs to be sustained by prayer and worship means that it /is/ technically a valid tactic to go after their worshippers-- especially considering the alternative of letting these Primals run rampant." "Otherwise," the dark man frowns, "There's nothing stopping them from summoning it again and again until they get their way. What /is/ the final objective there, anyway? Just trying to get their god into the world to assert a little dominance over their slice of Hydaelyn?" He gives Y'shtola a little bit of a Raised Eyebrow Look. "Hey, I was just asking to make sure there wasn't anything specific you guys needed us to do. No need to get... catty." Beat. "Encountering a place with an active planetary divinity though..." He frowns a little bit more, running his thumb thoughtfully across the rim of his sake saucer. "That's not something I thought could happen, to have that much power. But I guess that just makes it all the more important to deal with these Primals before they destabilize things. Do the Primals have a unifying motivation, or anything in particular they're interested in that draws them to manifest?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's ears go up at 'catty'. His eyes also narrow a bit. Hmmmm.     Minfilia looks to Morgan. "The unfortunate side effect of summoning a Primal is that they are able to create their own followers." She purses her lips. "They have the power to utterly annilate any sense of self inside of a mortal shell, and make them whole subservient to the Primal. Depending on which Primal it is, we have different terms for it, but they are all functionally the same. That is why one cannot simply send an army to fight them. And that is why the Garleans fear them. Because there is no way around being Tempered, Drowned, or otherwise taken by a Primal."     "The only defense we have found is the Echo, or by being an Offworlder of sufficient inner being. Like you three." Minfilia's glance rakes the room. "Which /is/ one thing you can all do to assist us." 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:'''     Y'shtola looks at Morgan for a moment, "Ah I see, I think I remember your type. What was it they called it.."     "Divoid of humor, intelligent conversation, and deserving of only PUNishment."     Alphinaud simply pushes past this, "To answer your other...dangerous question. The beastmen in General are various in temperment and outlooks. There is possibility of some adventurers trying to make ways in with these groups." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga turns her hazel eyes toward May. She would sympathize with hating ladders. And stairs. And vaguely rough terrain. "Perhaps they simply do not know--or the feel their situation is so dire they do not have a choice," Inga comments. The puns earn an eyeroll from the seer. Maybe she'll try some food... Back to Minfilia. "That is interesting. They have a sort of compulsion to get more worshippers..." Inga taps her chin with her finger lightly. "When these Primals are defeated, the leave the material plane to go back where they were, ja? They can be summoned again?" 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' May frowns slightly, because when you come from a town that has centaurs, dwarves, elves, humans, and the occasional odder race, you don't make jokes about them. At least, not unless you know the person well. Also, she has yet to hear a good centaur joke and doesn't want someone to try to fix that. At least Y'shtola can dish it right back. She smiles into her (empty) cup before rising to find some water. There's water around here, right? She hopes so. "So they'll get more people by any means... but it sounds like it doesn't work on me, so count me in there, too! As for talking to beast tribes..." She tilts her head. "Do I count as one, to you? I've met some people who think so, but I'm not what I'd call a Beastman. They're hairier. I've never met one personally." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     May gets another look from Raha. "I'd like that, honestly. We've already handeled most of the Primals, as we said, but there's never an end to them. Someone keeps spreading the secret of Summoning to the beastmen and others, and so..." He spreads his arms on the table, and snags a hard roll. "There's never going to be a shortage of work to do. And. AND."     "We haven't even gotten into the demands of the Grand Companies and the Alliance, but... uh." This seems to be a rather touchy, heated subject for the catman, and he's stifled by a pat on the hip from Tataru from her place at her high stool an the table. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' "They... Obliterate minds? They force their own worship by anyone who just happens to even be nearby? No," the dark man rumbles, staring daggers into his cup. "That's not something I can countenance to continue. The gods are the gods, the people are the people. If they can't win worship by their own merit and resort to tyranny to sustain themselves instead..." His hand trembles, a droplet of sake tumbles from his cup. The room suddenly grows a little colder. Shadows suddenly seem so much darker, and colors a little less brilliant. It lasts only a moment, almost enough to be passed off as a trick of the imagination. Then his shoulders hitch. Morgan closes his eyes and takes in a very long, deep breath. The world fades back into what it aught to be. "Well, I'll do what I can. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve when it comes to mental warfare. I don't know if I can promise restoring someone's sanity outright, but maybe without the Primals interfering... I can give it a try." Oh, but there's something he needs to deal with first! Something important. "Ahahahahahaha~" Morgan laughs like nothing at all is wrong in the world and he didn't just accidentally let a little too much of himself slip just then. "Hey now, I don't think I deserved that. After all, I was just..." He griiiins Y'shtola-ward, "...Kitten." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks toward Morgan, her expression hawk-like as the room darkens. "Yes, it is a disturbing effect. I understand they worship these beings already, however...once they no longer have a choice, it is time to put a stop to it," she comments. "I wonder if a bit of education could help--learn why they summon these beings, let them know the consequences, offer help as an alternative," she offers. 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:'''     Alphinaud decides to avoid this one, as Y'shtola simply gives Morgan a smile.     "Do you think you are clever, Mr. Berselius? Do you think that I have not heard the tail end of these before? That I have not delt with the whole kitten caboodle of these puns? Let me tell you, my knowledge of these puns will leave your fragile little mind in a catatonic state, it will be a litteral Catastrophe, not that the Multiverse would meown your passing. I could take your rear all away up and down the purramids of your egypt, to the flats of Cateneud." She says, simply, staring right at him.     "Do not think you are cute, because this is my catistance." 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' "Deal," May says to N'raha, with another one of those big smiles. She stops smiling when the room gets a little darker, but she's apparently willing to put it off as a trick of the light; when it fades, she starts again, though it looks a little wan. "I'm not afraid of hard work," May says, "just boring work. In that I didn't want to be a farmer or run away," she clarifies. "Boring work that helps people is okay, but I'm an adventurer, so... that's not what I get asked to do most of the time." How little she knows. Then there's the punmageddon. May's smile broadens at it. Finally, someone who hits back! She's not good enough with words to ever do something like that herself. Maybe this will actually work. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha just... opens his mouth, and then closes it. Then he hides his face in his mug of beverage.     He tries to send psychic signals to Morgan to stop, subtly shakes his head, and then looks to Inga for ...help.     Minfilia is biting her lip, trying not to laugh. She's managing to kee pa straight face, even. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga looks to N'raha and gives him a helpless look. There's likely not much she can do here. She could curse Morgan so nothing but nonsense comes out of his mouth, but she doesn't think she can do it without him knowing about it, and she was trying /not/ to make anymore enemies today... So she shrugs and hides her face in a cup of tea that came from....somewhere. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' Oh. Oh wow she actually knows how to pun. Well! Hm. There's no way that someone can just let /that/ go unchallenged...! "I don't know if I'm cute and I don't mean to bragdoll, but rogueishly handsome is anothpurr story. I think myabe it might it in both our bombayst interests to take a brex with all these puns before somebody sphynx us insane. That's not to say that spay that this isn't a fun little dipurrsian, just that we might be distracting from some more pressing abyssiness. Why don't we make hasty use of an escape claws and collar it an even truce for now so we can get back to discussing some more impurrtant myatters?" Morgan sips at his sake. Siiiiip. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga sighs heavily as Morgan opens his mouth again. Inga, softly spoken, not a hair over five feet tall and cripples...raises her voice and speaks like thunder. The aura around her reads MENACE, the air crackling with electricity, the way it feels just before lightning strikes. It's a voice that has told kings to change their plans. "That is enough! If you cannot see the woman is offended then there is no help for you! You will apologize for the sake of the goodwill between us all and bring no further strife to the home of our host!" Ahem. 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' May stays out of the way. Just... entirely. She slides back a little bit to stay out of Inga's rage range; though she can't think of why she'd be targeted, it's always best to be sure. "I think that would be a pretty good idea," she says afterwards, into the silence. "Where I'm from, we've got a lot of different kinds of people living together... and it's best to *not* make jokes like that to people you just met." 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' Morgan gives Inga an appraising look and then... breathes an exaaaggerated sigh. "And here I thought we were all having a bit of fun with it. I appreciate someone who can match me for terrible punmaking, but all good things must come to an end, I suppose." He laughs into the silence and again smiles Y'shtola-ward. "Sorry for starting this word-war. I hope you weren't too offended and were able to get some kind of enjoyment out of our duel of diction." "But it is probably better we stop. Otherwise, things may quickly get... Well, you know. Something-astrophic." Wink~ 

:'''{{#var:6843|Zenos yae Galvus (6843)}} has posed:'''     Y'shtola looks at him, calmly, and firmly. Infact, she is smiling, "Appology accepted. I shall not hold your lack of social graces, lack of decency, and lack of intelligence against you. However, I will tell you that I, am not interested, little raven." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Minfilia's stoic looks breaks, and she bites her lip, finding her seat.     Raha's ears slink all the way back against his head and he tires to make himself very small indeed.     Tataru, hoever, just lets out an "ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo" worthy of a Maury crowd. 

:'''{{#var:6716|Morgan Berselius (6716)}} has posed:''' "And I similarly shall not hold your questionable sense of humor and unsolicitated assumption of my attraction towards you as marks against your character." Morgan siiiiiiiips at his drink again. "Though you are definitely cute and witty, so I can't say that your assumption was /in/correct." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga finishes her mysterious tea. "Well, I think perhaps that concludes this conversation. I look forward to working with you all. N'raha, thank you for your hospitality," she says, and places her staff so she can use it to help herself to her feet. "Be in touch. I'll help however able." 

:'''{{#var:6331|May (6331)}} has posed:''' May seizes on something she understands and is willing to get involved in. "Me too," May says. "I'll definitely help... you said there was other work? I can get ahold of you later and we can talk about that too...? Once we figure out what we need to do right now, as opposed to later." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Minfilia recovers enough, and pats Tataru on the head. "Now now, later you can gossip, dear." The Lalafell lets out a huff and sighs.     And then the blonde Seer turns to May and Inga. "Feel free to register with the Adventurer's Guild and take Leves. That is the best way to get yourself involved with the people, and find out what they need. The large issues, we can easily call on you."     She then flicks out a tomestone, with a linkshell attached. "I shall give you all the shell frequency of the Scions, that we might call on you." 
}}

6217/A Chance to Catch a Breath ft Raha and Inga

2018-12-07T21:48:10Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/12/07 |Location=Mist, Lima Lominsa |Synopsis=Raha and Inga catch up and discuss some serious stuff. |Cast of Characters=819, 525 |pretty=yes }..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/12/07
|Location=Mist, Lima Lominsa
|Synopsis=Raha and Inga catch up and discuss some serious stuff.
|Cast of Characters=819, 525
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     It's a sight that will be very familiar to Inga, in general. The small home is along the shore in the Adventurer Enclave known as Mist in La Noscea. It's a thriving little residential district, chock full of Free Companies, adventurers and everyone else that wants to do business with them.     But the Warrior of Light holds a rather unassuming place here. The little house on the beach doesn't have massive adornments or great and mighty trophies outside. It's got a set of trees. It's got a nice little firepit and some chairs. There's a clotheline out in the back yard. And there's a path down to the beach itself. It's down there that Raha is sitting, in the chilly fall air. Another bonfire has been started on the shore, and there's a pair of chairs waiting for the Chosen. The catman is out of his armor and is in some smart looking clothes, black pants and a green suit jacket, with a tie even. He's sipping on a bottle and waiting, for now. 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' N'raha's world is a strange one, but not the strangest. It is somewhere she doesn't feely wholly out of place, though she's come to feel comfortable in far more environments than when she'd first found herself dumped feet first into the multiverse. She doesn't draw too many looks from the crowded residential area as she makes her way toward the beach as directed. How long has it been since she's seen an ocean? Too long, she thinks. She's dressed warmly, wrapped in her fur-lined cloak, two long white braids of hair hanging over each shoulder. Beneath her cloak is her usual style of dress, a blue apron style dress in a rich wool, over a white underdress, pinned at the shoulders with two oval brooches with ornate knotwork in silver. N'raha will hear the cursing begin when she reaches the sand. Sand is difficult to walk in. She finds her way over however, and judges the view to be worth the sand. "Well, it is warmer than home. Almost balmy," she comments, looking toward N'Raha. She raises an eyebrow at his outfit. "Coming from a formal occasion?" she asks, setting her walking staff aside before flopping down into the nearest chair. She looks him over, her brow slightly furrowed, taking in any changes in his immediate appearance. Inga herself looks unnervingly the same--maybe a little tired. Sadder. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     There's a smile from Raha, as he looks down at himself. "Oh, sorry, this is just sort of what I wear when I'm... not in armor these days. And not in my house lounging around." Well there's one change. That smile isn't quite as boisterous. The piercing green eyes of the young man are also slightly... harder than they used to be. A few more marks on his face, covered by those straight tattoos the Miqo'te seem to like.     He mmmmms. "And balmy, I'll go for that. The ocean coming in is very warm which keeps the fog and moisture in the air. Mist, you see." He waves his bottle at the town behind him, before leaning forward to look at the witch. "Do you want me in something less formal?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga chuckles, shaking her head and waving her hand in dismissal. "No, I just did not recall you dressed so...what is the term...sharp?" she smiles. "I suppose I'm none to talk," she admits with a shrug. "I wear a dress all the time." Inga takes in the changes. Not just the physical changes, but his mien. He's sobered. Grown up. It makes her a little sad to see, but it is the way of things. She feels like she'd been put through the wringer recently. N'raha seems to have had a rough time of it as well. She looks away and out to the ocean. "Aah...at Dun Realtai, everything is well frozen over by now. The lake is solid enough for sleds or skating. I'm generally burried in snow." Well, if he's drinking... Inga reaches into her pouch and pulls out a small flask. It's probably mead. "It looks peaceful here, but I gather that hasn't been the trend outside of this area," she ventures. The look in his eye is one of a man that's been to war. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A small sigh from the catman, as he shifts and slides those sneaker-boots into the sand a bit. Ears flick a bit as well. "The Garleans made their reall effort to crush us all. Forced the Beastmen to resummon their Primals. Used... used the primals to fuel a war machine. Took me and a squadron of my friends to best it. Lost a few. Lost more than that among the Grand Companies."     Those green eyes regard Inga a moment or two. "Mother Crystal will be happy to see more of you lot, though, I think. She didn't seem to mind you, anyways." A sip at his beverage, before he spots Inga's flask and he holds his up in a toast. "To those who gave all. ...to those who couldn't keep up." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga's eyes close as she nods. "May their ancestors embrace them in the halls of the gods," she says solemnly. Gods, but she does not want to talk about death. It is the spectre she has been avoiding. She nods. "Mmm, I expect she will be glad of the help. Her and Gaia seem to have an...understanding I think," Inga replies. "Naturally, I'm at your service if you think I can be of use here." At the toast, she raises her flask, tears forming to blur her vision. "To the honored dead," she says quietly, pours a little of her mead out into the sand, then drinks. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman likewise pours out his, but it appears to the the last of his own bottle. He sighs, and sets the empty in the sand. "The honored, and the dishonored. I will never..." A grunt. "The Tempered, the Drowned, all those lost to the Primals. I'll still never get past that. It's understandable why the Garleans what us gone so they can get rid of the Eikons once and for all, but..." He sighs, and shrugs.     A look to Inga, though. "...What can you tell me about those dark versions of your Chosen that you have floating around your world? We've had... similar ones that have been causing trouble in ours." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' The witch offers her flask over when she see's he's out of drink. Heavy talk demands heavy drink. "I have more," she informs him, less he feel bad about drinking it. "There's little sense to death. I've seen enough of it. To those that die fighting...we tell a story, that Odin recieved a prophecy of the end of the world. Warriors that die in battle go to Valhalla, where they will fight and feast until the end of days. Then they will fight the most important of all battles. I think it helps, believing that. Of course, what of those left behind?" she muses. Inga frowns then, thinking about his question. It throws her for a bit of a loop. "Dark versions of the Chosen? I'm not sure I understand." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha lets out a breath. "That's... actually pretty comforting, in some ways. here we just get pulled back into the great Lifestream, to be repurposed out the next time something needs a soul." A little sigh, his ears folding back against his head.     And a look. "I'd thought Wuyin had said something about... filthy stuff." He works his jaw a moment. "We've been fighting dark spirits that we have a very hard time killing. That ust keep coming back to sow chaos. Teach people how to summon primals. That sort of thing." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods, pursing her lips. "I suppose that is something...to live again, another life," she replies. Her brow furrows, then she nods. "Ah. Yes...people are taken by the Filth. They become abominations. If that were happening here, you would know. I have not met a Chosen that had been taken by the Filth but...I know it is possible. We are made to be resistant to it, but we are not immune," she explains. "As for how to deal with such a being...It is not pleasant to contemplate. We are very difficult to kill as it is. Add the Filth and..." Inga visibly shudders. "Someday, I am sure I will find out." Inga is quiet for a while, her expression thoughtful. "If they are anything like us...I would guess that you must interrupt their cycle somehow. If they cannot be killed without returning, perhaps they can be imprisoned." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman sighs. "That's what I figured you might say. Some of our people had thought the same as well. But we managed to defeat one ourselves. And we'll keep doing it as long as wel can."     Raha looks to Inga, and with only a slight hesitation, reaches over to take the wisewoman's hand. No words. Not just now. But he exudes a measure of wamrth that wasn't there before. Comradery. He gets it.     "There, but for the grace of the Gods, go we?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' "I am glad to hear it. How did you defeat one?" she asks. When he takes her hand, she looks genuinely surprised. She startles slightly, but doesn't pull away. They're friends, and gods know she has too few of them these days. "Mmm. I do not recognize the quote." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Oh. Well, just that it would be so easy to turn around and use what we have for ourselves, you know?" Raha snorts and squeezes that slender hand, before letting it go. "And we had help. Mother Hydaelyn stepped in and provided the killing blow, as it were. Though I doubt that was the only one. The damned thing had taken the body of Thancred as his own. I think you've met him. The dashing rogue who fancies himself a ladies hyur?" 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga smiles softly and gives his hand a squeeze in return before he pulls it away. "Ahh. Well, I am glad she did so then," she replies, then furrows her brow as she thinks back. "Ah, yes, I do believe I remember him, yes," she says. Good looking enough, but sort of too pretty for her usual tastes. "Is he well now or...?" she asks, looking back to him. Was he one of those lost, she wonders? 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "No. We drove out the Ascian, though now he's at a loss to touch magic the way he used to be able to." Raha scratches at his cheek and sighs. "But that hasn't deterred Thancred from his spycraft. It's made him more daring. If that's a good thing, which it may not be."     A look to Inga. "How about you? How've things been? You look... ah. Sameish." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga nods. She should perhaps ask what exactly an Ascian is but....another time perhaps. "I'm glad," she replies. At his question, she almost winces. "Well, I do not...really change physically," she replies. "I'll always return to this, for good or for ill." She looks away, back toward the ocean, watching the waves roll and crash. "Things have been...very difficult. I was away for a while, dealing with...things," she says. "Then I was just...not fit for company for a while. I'm trying to get back to...something like normal. I do not know if I am doing a very good job of it," she confesses, her voice quiet. "I feel hallowed out, like those pumpkins people carve for halloween." Inga shakes her head, takes another sip of her mead. "But I am trying." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha just sits and listens to all that a bit, his tongue working across fangs a little bit. His tail flicks against the back of the beach chair a few times in thoughtful contemplation. She lost someone. She lost someone and doesn't want to talk about it. Which is alright.     Though he does look at the woman careful, sagely, and murmurs. "I'm not sure how else to assist other than saying 'I know how that feels, and I'm sorry'." A mmmm. "But yes. That's the sort of thing that takes... time. Which both of us have a lot of." 

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:''' Inga keeps her face turned slightly away, a few small stray hairs being pulled from her braids by the wind off the ocean. She reaches up, presumably to wipe tears from her cheeks. She's quiet a while, listening to the sea. It helps to calm her, focusing on that rhythm. "Thank you. Yes...more time than I can contemplate," she sighs. When she looks back toward him, her cheeks, nose and eyes a little red. "I am glad you are back. I have few enough friends these days." 
}}

6214/FATE: It's Not Lupus

2018-12-07T04:01:01Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2018/12/06 |Location=Costa Del Sol, Eorzea |Synopsis=The Heroes obliterate a poor FATE Boss, and then kibitz over crabmeat and shipwreck tossing. R..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2018/12/06
|Location=Costa Del Sol, Eorzea
|Synopsis=The Heroes obliterate a poor FATE Boss, and then kibitz over crabmeat and shipwreck tossing. Raha returns to the Multiverse, too.
|Cast of Characters=819, 8, 973, 1137, 6384, 6730, 1138, 6655, 6794, 1099
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     DUTY: It's Not Lupus!     Location: Eastern La Noscea - Bloodshore     Type: Notorious Monster     Urgency: High     Difficulty: High     The usually tranquil shores south of Costa Del Sol are a madhouse right now. The alarm has gone up from the Adventurer's Guild and the Maelstrom of a massive, bloodthirsty crab that's wandered its way up out of the ocean and is making its nest in the soft sands south of the coastal resort, driving off everything and everyone with massive swipes of its claws and a cloud of attendant horrible annoying jellyfish.     People arriving via warp gate will find themselves shunted through the Aetheryte Network to Costa, where refugee beach goers, fishermen and even the Maelstrom guards are huddled up and away from the southern beach at a natural rock arch, waiting for the cavalry.     (OOC: https://ffxiv.gamerescape.com/w/images/a/a9/Cancer.jpg He's a big'un.)     

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' It had been a long time since Deelel had seen any news of this world, when the job came up? She sought to see just what was going on. Which the program who was strangely clad by local standards. She looked out with her keyblade in hand already. She starts to make for the horde of monsters at a fairly sedade pace she has an ida of what she needs to do here. "Come on time's ticking away, let's get to it." She'll call out to anyone who is arriving, Deelel seems keen to get to business with the critters. 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     It's been a while since Silica heard anything from Hydaelyn, and so when a job pops up on the Syndicate board for the area, she transforms, and makes her way over. Arriving at the area with dagger ready and a cluster of her combat pets surrounding her. She's even mounted on one of them, a large dragon-cat monster. Pina sits on her right shoulder, a winged serpent coils around her right forearm, a large bat with a hawk's wings and beak sits on her left shoulder while a stout boar with tusks made from large ice crystals clings to the dragon-cat's flank as the beast runs.     She rides up like literal cavalry, teasing her mount to a stop at a safe-ish distance and waiting for others to turn up while going over her pets and giving them treats or soothingly petting them as necessary. 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' Something drops out of the sky. It's big. Like, twelve-foot-tall and made entirely of muscle and bone kind of big. The sand and surf spray upward in a great big geyser as a giant makes landfall...! With a tremendous mane of stark-white hair, jet-black eyes crowned with crimson irises, and two massive horns, there's no doubt as to what this creature is...! But the question is... Why is it... wearing an innertube? Asterios... Likes the sea. Living for as long as he had, trapped deep within the Labyrinth of Crete, Asterios spent so long just sitting at the sealed gates to his home and listening to the distant waves. He'd never seen the ocean, but he knows the sound of its soothing roar and the scent of its spraying seafoam. Asterios likes the ocean. He loves the beach. And so... He is bidden to defend it...! The minotaur rises, cascades of sand and water rolling off his back and shoulders. He takes one look at the massive crab monster and holds his hands into the open air. In a flash, two enormous poleaxes materialize in his waiting grip. He chuffs, breathing a great puff of hot air out his nostrils, and declares: "Crab... Is best beach food...!" And with his intentions declared, Asterios, the Minotaur of Crete, goes on the offensive! His first order of business, cracking that crab's shell with his GREAT BIG AXES and RIDICULOUS SUPER STRENGTH. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Sometimes the hardest question to answer about how to respond to a call for help is what you should wear to the *dancing.* So after a quick debate, Orchid decided to go with something better suited to the aesthetic of this world.      So Orchid arrives, wearing something that makes her look like a pixie just under five-feet tall. She's here first for the Search and Rescue aspect, but if there are no people in need of rescuing, she brought enough drones to provide support for those who will be fighting.     "Orchid on-scene, with the latest news. Giant crab, check, jellyfish flock, check. I might be immune to the later, but let's see who else can respond." 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:'''     At the scene of the dangerous CRAB BATTLE...or rather, at the sight of the giant monster crab....     Was a young man with black hair and a more modern set of clothing. On his arm he wore a band that spelled 'Ranger'. Right now, he was standing nearish to the crab, but unafraid of it. In his notebook he was taking notes on this thing, and...of course, the the strange jellyfish that seemed to hover arround it...did it command the fish, or did the Jellyfish instead buddy up with it like clownfish with anemone? Truly, this was interesting...     But it was on the beach, but why? What drew it away from the ocean...something this large had to be deep ocean? He wasn't sure, maybe he should check in with local schollars about this and try and figure out this stuff. Things could be different here...     Also those strange crystals seemed to be teleport stones? That's pretty neat. He'll have to get a tutorial on that later.     Of course, the man seems uncaring about the danger of the Crab. If it strikes, he plays defensive and simply jumps around it. Infact, he would use that as a oppertunity to see how it gathered prey.     "Neat." he says to himself. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Another Mi'qote ... well... NOT a Mi'qote, but another woman of some sort of feline persuasion shows up on the beach. To be fair, adding in the sheer bard-like look of Atalanta's normal gear (especially with the giant, Goddess-given bow on her back)... well...      She might as well be.      - but she's a lion, got it?      Honestly Atalanta is just here for the crab mea- "Asterios! Hey! It's mine! Get back from there!" The Grecian lioness yells after the Cretian bull. Her ears rustle in the wind as she gives him chase - but she goes up rather than down towards the beach, up to the top of the cliff that looks over Bloodshore. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     It had been a fair bit since Solomon had learned of the Multiverse, though he hadn't found a good opportunity to venture out and apply his unique skillsets. Battles abounded, sure, but... not the kind Solomon usually enjoyed. But this? A fight against a rogue beast? This will make a very good first--okay, second venture. A nice, easy boss battle.     Given that the target is massive, and presumably slow, Solomon's feeling in his element. Kitted out in his trademark blue armor and giant broadsword, he takes a brief note of any other adventurers in the area, takes a look at the crab. So, the job is to hit that thing until it dies? Too easy.     He utterly disregards the jellyfish and charges at the crab, swinging his sword down in a mighty cleave. Ya know, standard stuff. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     All of the arriving heroes are going to get cheers from the onlookers as they make their way down to the beach, with some of the more inebriated or financially minded already moving to start taking bets on who's going to get the killing blow, who's going to eat sand and so on.     And if you wanted a real Miqo'te there's one coming up the beach now. A green eyed cat man, in snappy looking grey armor, carrying a heavy, slightly shimmering axe, on the back of a green hued bird. For some, he will be a familiar sight, for most, he's going to be new, but the crowd all seems to cheer a bit more, for those who recognize him as well. "Isn't that one of the Scions?" "I think it's the Warrior of Light! One of them anyways!"     Raha surveys the crowd of heroes gathered, hops off the bird, and swats it's backside to get it to camper to safety. "Hey guys. Nice to see that Eorzea hasn't been forgotten." Though, this is a new batch of 'friends', isn't it?     He plants his feet, and then there's a flash of aether as he TACKLES the giant crab, ramming into it with his shoulder and the butt of his axe.     The thing had already been swiping at 17 and bubbling at the approaching heroes in general, but now the battle is truly joined, as the thing rears up and starts taking swipes at the catman and everyone else. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     As Raha steps in to do battle, not only does Cancer rear up and start swiping, but those floating jellyfish start to mingle around, wandering slightly aimlessly and trying to zap anyone and everyone with paralysing shocks. 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     "Alright then, violence it is." says the Cait Sith. She could be mistaken for a Miqo'te herself, if a slightly odd one. Maybe a Keeper, due to the lack of slit-pupils.     Once she dismounts, she clicks her tongue in a complex set of tones, and her pets fan out, lifting from her body or their perches and giving confirmation chirps, trills or growls.     Silica points to the crab, and Tetsu, the Dracotiger, charges forwards with a deep roar of challenge, following Solomon's attack up with a pounce that attempts to overbalance the large monster. She draws her dagger and follows in after her large pet. She diverts, though, when the Jellyfish aggro and she calls out a warning, only to get confusion. "Oh, right... this isn't a 'crasher gig... Focus Silica." She turns, and directs the smaller pets into a wedge formation, diving into the encroaching Jellyfish and trying to put as many down as she can with slashes of dagger skills, and the various breath weapons of her pets, stunning bubbles, damaging needles of wind magic, sonic pulses and eruptions of ice from the little boar as she stomps on the ground. 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Okay, a bunch of other people have shown up, and most seem focused on the crab. Orchid, on the other hand, figures that not having, you know, biology, makes her immune to poison based attacks. Thus, she should be completely safe if she draws the attention of the jellyfish. That logic established in her mind, she morphs one hand into a buster, and fires small pellets of plasma at the jellyfish on her side of the crab, making sure that the other heroes aren't in the line of fire. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      The not-Mi'qote up on top of the cliff doesn't go for the crab. She knows its' weakness: and until there's a better visible shot at the underside, she has things that she can turn her attention too... the very numerous jellyfish, of which there are several starting to drift towards her.      "No."      She draws the bow, and takes aim - and no matter how far away they are across the beach, Atalanta's arrows fly, heading for the jellyfish, with the surety of her shots meaning she lets them fly with unerring precision. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''      A couple swings into attacking the crab's shell, Solomon finally takes note of the jellyfish. Barely. He's got half an eye on their movements, but is fully focused on beating the main target. At any rate, it looks like the others have a handle on the, er.... "adds". Why couldn't Silica couldn't just say "more monsters"?     The banter and conversation does yield a strategy, though: flip the crab. Having whaled on the shell a bit with more or less baseball swings, Solomon shifts to uppercut-style attacks, still using his massive strength to swing an equally massive blade REALLY hard. Combined with everyone else's efforts, that should be enough to topple it? 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:'''     Seventeen continues his evasion, claws smash into the dirt as he jumps over the claw, bouncing off of a Jellyfish and landing behind it. Sighing...it looks like they're going to eat lots of crab tonight. A shame too, this could have been interesting. Hands pont out towards the Jellyfish, as it turns to swing at him, and he fires a wave of energy, aiming to send both it and the blast into the giant enemy crab. Well, knowing how a thing fights might make the next time this happens easier to deal with peacefully.     Still, he wonders if it's just here to lay eggs? Maybe if it was less frothingly angry at everything...     Taking a moment, Android 17 leans back, coiling like a spring, but does not jump forward. 

:'''{{#var:6794|Enkidu (6794)}} has posed:''' SUDDENLY There's some green-haired... person? on the beach. It looks like they just washed up with the surf, floating like a piece of driftwood. They ride the tide in, and stop in the sand, rolling over onto their back and looking up at the sky. The water weighs their plain white clothes down. A surfboard washes up nearby. Apparently, Enkidu isn't any good at riding waves. Maybe don't summon Summer Enkidu as a Rider. The shadow of the giant crab falls over him. He cranes his neck a little further than looks comfortable. "Hello," he says to it. "I'm Enkidu. Who are you?" It's like he expects it to understand him or something! (it will) 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Solomon's strike will hit true, and the Draco Tiger's tackle will do the same... putting a crack in the shell of the crab. A small one. What in the blazes is this thing made out of, mithril? It does shuffle its legs tough, the swat unbalancing it for a moment before it shifts its great bulk. It's the size of a damn tank. A big tank. It's got a low center of gravity.     The Catman Warrior joins in, though, moving to turn the flat of his axe into his own strike, getting the idea of what's going on here. "...Howdy. Nice to see... someone else with the right idea of things."     Atalanta, Silica and Orchid, though, start in on the jellyfish. They're surprisingly resilient for floating bags of goop, hard rubbery outer skin deflecting one or two shots before starting to cumple. They wobble and fall over, losing their air somewhat, and sink into goopy messes on the beach. More are floating up and out of the water, though.     17's got a novel approach though. Fling jellies at the crab. The one he does blast goes flyign across the sands, trailing poisonous goop before smacking into a rather satisfying splatter of mess on the side of the Giant Enemy Crab. It rocks once more on its feet, an eye stalk turning briefly to look at the Android, before taking swipes at the frontline fighters.     Or at least it tries to. Because the moment it makes that attempt, the catman in the armor turns and kicks the thing square in the snout, a highly... aggravating move, backed with a wave of irritating aether. "OY! YOU! STEAM POT. I'M THE GUY, YOU'RE FIGHTING ME. COME ON YOU BARNACLED PILE OF BUTTER HIT ME, GODSDAMMIT." Either this guy is a masochist or... he's got a plan, right? The axe comes around again, swatting at a claw as it swipes in, and the catman keeps up the defensive motions.     On the rest of the beach though, more of those jelly fish start to saunter around ,and boy do they look riled up. There's less 'meandering' now, and more 'charging for the squishies'. 

:'''{{#var:1099|Gilgamesh (1099)}} has posed:'''      Meanwhile, the beautiful King of Heroes slides up on his own golden surfboard. He's dressed in an open gold-and-silver hawaiian-print shirt, exposing a flawless torso, and red shorts that show off his perfect legs. He skids to a halt next to Enkidu, kicks the surfboard up into the air, and shoulders it. There's a wide, uncharacteristic grin on Gilgamesh's face. "The objective is to *balance*," He says, "Like we saw in the video, remember? I know you're more balanced than that. Did you just decide to take a swim and have a chat with the fish?"      The crab appears. Enkidu talks to it. Gilgamesh looks up at it with an irritated glance. "Do you mind?"      The Gate of Babylon opens. Weapons edge themselves out of thin air, out of shimmering golden ripples. Each and every weapon is a high-end magical production, the kind of thing D&D characters might call 'artifacts', of gorgeous, flawless make. "You're in the King's sun." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Also you're going to have to excuse Cancer. He's being kicked in the snout and your attempts at parley are being interrupted by CRAB BATTLE. It bubbles something about blood and guts and 'eat cat'. It does not appear to be either very bright or very natural. In fact, if you had to guess it's Very Unnatural. 

:'''{{#var:1099|Gilgamesh (1099)}} has posed:'''      Upon Enkidu telling him 'let's kill it just to be sure,' Gilgamesh just shrugs. "That's out of character for you. But if you say so."      He doesn't even move. He doesn't even snap his fingers. Just, one moment he's simply glancing at the crab, and the next, the Gate of Babylon yawns wide, firing its magical payload into the creature. He neither knows nor cares where weak spots are - Gilgamesh is the type to make his own weak spots, armed with the overwhelming firepower that infinite magical weapons produces. Indeed, as the Gate of Babylon fires, no two weapons are alike - from swords that would put most adventurer's tools to shame to spears that would make Dragoons weep with joy to hammers and axes that would make any Warrior eager with glee, on and on and on, the Gate of Babylon is an unending stream of deadly, ridiculous, artifacts. Gilgamesh isn't even trying here; the stream is localized, focused, concentrated on a singular point.      "Enkidu," he adds offhandedly, "Aim at that point with me. We'll simply crack its shell." 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     A small crack. That's all the hint Solomon needs to /keep swinging/. And with the catlike humanoid drawing the crab's attention, he can just focus on attack and take it easy, not worrying about things such as avoiding damage. Uppercuts do seem to be destabilizing the crab as intended - it just needs a little more work. Solomon slows down his attack rate in favor of stronger hits to hopefully lift the living rock off its legs. And he's making note to talk to the fightin' cat later - looks like he could learn a thing or two from a good conversation. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      No eating the cattes, Cancer. Atalanta disapproves.      Still up, high in the air, the lion-woman shifts her weight, and starts throwing out arrows at the jellyfish in a much more quicker series of shots. They still have her normal precision and power, she's just stopped being lazy. "Minotaur. We will need lots of butter." She eyes Gilgamesh and Enkidu. Bah...      /*Men*/ and... someone that has green hair, so who is mildly more liked by Atalanta than anyone else other than Silica, Deelel, Orchid, or Asterios at the moment. 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:'''     Android 17 sighs, hearing that the creature is rather unnatural. Well, disappointing, but Enkidu DID giv ehim a good idea to save the work he had done. However, there was more to it.     Seventeen decides that someone needs to keep the Jellyfish under control, so....     He bounces around, firing blast after blast to try and keep the Jellyfish population down. Aiming to consistantly splatter them across it's shell and turn their paralizing power on /it/. Of course he might 'accidently' try and splatter one a bit too close to Gilgamesh.     "Oops." 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Silica hops back from the Jellyfish, letting her pets take over keeping them occupied, mostly playing keep-away while waiting for their breath weapons to recharge. She turns to watch Solomon, N'raha and her pet engaged in close combat with the Giant Crab. She whistles shrilly and Tetsu lets out a bellowing roar, rearing up and slapping at the crab with its giant paws, aiming to block attacks aimed at the other two in close range with him. he's being Off-Tank.     Silica herself closes her eyes, bringing her hands up and chanting in something that sounds kinda like norse. Yellow runes appear and lock in around her as she calls their name, before a bubble of interlocking blue hexagons appears around N'raha, followed up by a drop of 'water' washing over him and providing a constant refreshing of his stamina. 

:'''{{#var:6794|Enkidu (6794)}} has posed:''' "There was a school of them I'd never seen before under us," Enkidu tells Gilgamesh. "It seemed like it was worth the interruption." Yeah, okay, maybe not that bad at surfing after all. Enkidu picks himself up. The sand falls off like it suddenly can't find purchase. Long hair blows in the sea breeze. Enkidu seems pleased at the locale, if not their circumstances. "Animals that arise from unique circumstances are understandable," he tells Gilgamesh, "but this feels closer to a mage's created beast." Nature preservation is one thing, but unnature preservation is quite another! Enkidu follows Gilgamesh's example, thrusting both hands towards the ground. The beach churns, and spears and blades hard as steel and the color of the sand leap out out of the ground and launch like missiles at Gilgamesh's designated spot. Unlike Gilgamesh's endless barrage of unique artifacts, Enkidu creates masterworks, but manufactured ones, albeit in large amounts. "Understood!" 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' "Gao..." Asterios huffs, glancing back at the fluffy cat-girl. "We can... share crab. Plenty to eat... for everyone...! Indeed. Eat. Unnatural or not, Asterios has tasted the thrill of the hunt. In spite of the vast array of weapons being deployed all around him, he is of single mind and single purpose...! Though wow these jellyfish are /really/ kind of being jerks! Asterios grunts through the pain and the stings, they'll hurt more later, but he has a job to do! While all the others are dealing with smashing the crab, hammering at a single weakpoint, Asterios hears something on the radio that catches his attention...! And so he rushes in, geysers of seaspray erupting all around him. He utters a deep, reverberating roar and charges bodily at the crab's backside. He reaches out with TWO BIG, MEATY MITTS to seize hold of the thing's broad, spiny carapace...! And goes to /german suplex/ onto its head. CRAB FLIPPIIIIING. 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel hangs back a bit for the moment as it seems the battle is being joined if that's the case? Well then she pulls her ID disc off her back and the edge of it hums of life. She takes note of Silica there and several others such as Atlanta and Asterios. Android 17 is new but she's not been the noisiest elite as of late. Then come Gil and Enkidu, life just got more complicated. She makes to fall in with Atlanta and chirps back. "Ah yes that would be quite the source of food wouldn't it?" There's still a slightly disturbed look on her face, most other lifeforms /eat/ things be they plants or animals. Conversely, it's a tasty source of energy which has long left Deelel confused. She'll throw her ID disc, and weapon energized Edge should be able to do some damage as it will bounce off whatever it hits and Deelel is aiming to bounce it off the crab and its companions should any remain. Playing razor doom pinball with them. She calls out to Asterios "I'll keep them busy you hit them hard with your friend!" Or the big guy could open up the softer spots for her to hit too. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     SOMEWHERE ELSE IN EORZEA:     A strange, giant man in overlapping red robes looks up from a pile of snow that he's digging in, and quirks his brow. "Ah. HAH. Something felt funny. Perhaps... it was my spear. Somethere. Hrrrmmm." The sensation passes and he does back to digging.     Nearby, a green chicken devours a bug from a log.     WELL NOW. There's a lot going on. Let's start with the Jellies. Seventeen seems to have the right of things as he keeps skipping in and out of the danger, swooping past those swinging tentacles and splatting the pesky murderjellies as they come. Though, Gil probably isn't going to like the goop. It stings and fizzles and makes muscles twitch and flutter and spasm. Best not to get a full dose of that.     The catman shivers a little bit, as he feels Silica's magic slide into place, his muscles easing and a very familiar looking Protect shifting into place around his body. Much better. He spares a glance for the girl, his green eyes flashing under his armored helmet. Thanks.     And then the REAL ASSAULT STARTS. Swords from Solomon. Axes from Raha. Swords and everything from Gil. Spears and Swords from Enkidu. PRO WRASSLE from Asterios. Arrows from Atalanta.     It's all really quite too much for this 'poor' thing. Cancer starts to crumple, to batter into the sand, blows raining upon it like... well, rain. Thanks to the gates. This thing wasn't an Elite. It can't stand up to this much abuse.     And then there's an axe. Not one of Gil's though. It's Raha's axe, the head of it glowing like the sun, an aetheric trail swishing out in a rainbow as he straight cleaves the crab's head in two, and...     It explodes. Not in crabby chunks, but in a massive cloud of magic, mana and aether. Not all of it good though. There's a whiff of foulness, a cloud of dark, inky wrongness here, that dissipates nearly as quickly as it can be senses. Furtive inky wrongness. Like it knew it was spotted.     Raha straightens up, a kink in his tail swishing a bit as he turns to look at the rest of the people gathered. "...well. Hi. Didn't expect backup today." He lifts his visor to show a handsome cat-face, a series of marks under an eye, his bright green eyes taking in the crowd of Heroes. "....Nice to see outworlders again, I suppose." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Up on the beach, there's cheers and shouts and hoots and hollars, as people start to mingle back down towards the beach. looks like the party is moving back into the area, folks! The actual party, not the adventuring party. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Crab goes down and... disappears.      Atalanta sticks her bow back over her shoulder, hops off of the cliff, landing squarely on her feet with a front flip. That being done, she promptly, and with little care and concern, ignores the adventuring party and the party-party as she heads into the sea, going hunting for crab. 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:'''     Elsewhere, a man in only a pair of white briefs stands behind the man in red, before disappearing when he looks behind him.     Right now, Android 17 lands, cracking his back and sighs. Oh well, he shrugs, that was unfulfilling, and apparently a blight on the enviornment. Walking towards N'Raha, he waves. "So this kinda thing normal around here?" 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel catches her ID disc on it's return and the massive crab just poofs in a burst of the local magic. She sighs looks like there's no dinner for a moment but she's certain those who want it can find something somewhere here. "Good to see you N'raha, a the game has changed since I last heard from you! It's good to see you and your world's intact." 

:'''{{#var:6384|Orchid (6384)}} has posed:'''      Orchid is not an expert in things magical, but she has a lot of eyes around, and was watching the crab as it suffered its reality failure. It looks kind of like a solid hologram, but that something else... "Alas, it wasn't a crab to begin with," she muses, "So no crab meat to eat." She looks around, and the locals coming down the beach. Might as well. Orchid waves a hand to the people, swapping her blaster back to a hand, and takes a bow. "It all seems to be good! Thank you for staying out of the way!" 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Silica sighs in relief. She also falls back and just sprawlsits in the sand, her tail swishing through the grains as she leans back. "Aaaah, yokataaa..." she murmurs, ears pinning down as the monster breaks. "Looked like how monsters from home shatter apart... that's weird." She wrinkles her nose at the obviously foul magic mixed with the rest of the aetheric power filtering away.     She smiles to N'raha, ears perking back up. "I saw the job post on the Syndicate board and thought it'd be a nice chance to running through Gamezones back home. Sometimes CARDINAL starts new questlines and people end up in danger." 

:'''{{#var:6794|Enkidu (6794)}} has posed:''' Enkidu makes a face as the cloud appears. He takes a half-step towards the inky wrongness -- Gilgamesh tells him to do something. Enkidu looks around, then walks back out to sea. He just sort of disappears underwater. Thirty seconds later, the bow of a wrecked ship bursts up out of the surf, arcing gracefully through the air towards Android 17. The figurehead at the end is a tiny, chubby person doing a T-pose with an extremely ornate moustache. It's visible as it falls. Enkidu trudges back out of the surf again after that. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The catman sighs a bit, working at his neck as some of the Adventurers start to mingle out, the direct danger overwith. Himself? He sniffs, and then the armor is gone in a swirl of blue aether, and he's left in... well. A rather slightly out of place snappy green suit jacket and black pants, with a green tie. A far cry from the rowdy young catman that used to be here.     "Sadly? Yes. More and more of this. Chaotic forces shoving things into the place of people and trying to see how much trouble can be caused. Plenty of source for that, actually."     A black ear flicks a bit as he hold out his hand in turn the to assembling people. "N'Raha. Warrior of light. I'm with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. We save the world. I kill gods."     Oh. That's... rather blatant. 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' None can withstand the full might... of Cretean-style Grecow Roman Wrestling...! But then, just as the crab is laid to waste and the minotaur turns to begin the delicious harvest, it just... Disappears! It disappears into a cloud of terrible smelling super-gunk! What a terrble thing to have occur! Asterios stares, shocked and forlorn at the loss of his meal...! How could this have happened!? Asterios looks to Atalanta like he'd just broke his tiny little heart... And then resolves to remedy this situation post haste. "Mmn, cat-man," Asterios says to N'raha, "Asterios is going. To follow Gao. Will hunt, kill crabs. Be back later!" And so the minotaur goes stomping off after his fellow Grecian... As what is almost certainly ALL HELL breaks loose behind him. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     Huh. From a small crack in the shell to dead. Guess that's what happens when you hit something with EVERY WEAPON THERE IS. That annoying self-proclaimed king sure is a jerk and full of himself. Gonna have to challenge him point-blank to a fight later.     With the threat (such as it was) dealt with, though, Solomon can turn his attention to more interesting matters. That inky foulness was not unusual for him to see, but it /did/ pose a point of concern for him. Seems like a good opportunity to strike up a conversation with the fellow fighter N'Raha - after properly sheathing his blade. "So... that's common around here? Hm. I might visit here more often then. Name's Solomon, by the way. Solomon Roget." He extends a hand in greeting to the Mi'qote. "I'm no stranger to chaos myself, though I really just try to instill a bit of order when it gets too close to civilization. Not too hard, actually, where I'm from." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha also spares a glancte for the bull man, who's getting a fair amount of attention himself from other people on the beach. "Oh? Huh. Sure, good luck. Try out on one of the shoals, plenty out there. Don't eat them all, please."     Raha returns to being a good host, as he shakes Solomon's hand. "Hey. Boy, there's... I'd say too much civilization in places around here, let's go with that?" He scrunches up his face a bit, and grumps. "It's hard to hit politics with an axe." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel pauses at N'raha for a moment stares, Something certainly has gone down here, something serious. She'll have to ask later. "Gods, I see. You have been busy from the sounds of it." She then pauses for a moment. She'll have to ask later but as she sees Asterios heading off with his fellow Greek she'll follow after them, there is crab to be had and just as that happens? Enkidu tosses a boat at 17. "What...?" 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:'''     Android 17 looks up, face turning to a slight frown.     Both hands come up, aiming to try and grab the ship...     However, he does not catch it, instead the ship appears to land on him. There is a moment of nothing...before the ship starts shaking. With effort, the ship starts to wise up, as Seventeen seems to walk (with some effort, out of the crater that was left by his shield as he was forced under it. After a few moments, the ship lands next to him, and he places his hands on his hip.     "So I see we're doing this now?" he asks, hands coming up into a ready stance. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha flinches as the boat LANDS and crushes one of the heroes. Peopel start to scream and scatter again, rushing back up the beach from the fresh hell that's happening. The catman aighs a bit, rubbing at his face, ears pinning back against his head. "Ahhhhh Thal's balls, really? I'm going to have to make a fresh report on this." 

:'''{{#var:973|Silica (973)}} has posed:'''     Silica just facepalms. "Out of one fight into another... screw this I'm out." she whistles, calling her pets back to her. "If you need help again, Mister Raha... just give me a call, you can get me through Syndicate lines, or by contacting Haven and the Gatecrashers Union." she calls, mounting back up onto her valliant steed and galloping away as quickly as possible from 17 and Gil. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     A smile crosses Solomon's face at N'Raha's response. Yep, this guy definitely likes to fight as well. "I know a place where you can swing your axe all you want and not worry about what you hit. Just be prepared to have axes swung at you in return. Still, good fun if you're interested, and no politics involved." He hmms a bit - there was something else the cat said that stood out. "You say you kill gods? Curious. What trouble do they cause that requires slaying them outright?" 

:'''{{#var:6794|Enkidu (6794)}} has posed:''' Technically it's only the bow of a ship! A ship/wreck/. Enkidu looks around at the scattering people. He blinks a couple of times, and then turns to face Android 17. "My friend asked me to throw something at you," he says, by way of explanation. He doesn't look like he's gearing up for a fight; he's just sort of standing in the sand and surf. "The beach has already suffered enough." 

:'''{{#var:1099|Gilgamesh (1099)}} has posed:'''      Gilgamesh chuckles as Enkidu throws the ship. "Well done, Enkidu. Good shot."      The King of Heroes appears to content to just listen and hang around with Enkidu rather than talk overmuch, which is probably surprising, considering his normal attitude. Enkidu really must be mellowing him out. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha's attention might be on the possible growing fight, but he turns to look at Silica's departure, and then Deel and Solomon as well. "Ah, well. Gods are awful. They start fights, drain the land of aether when summoned, start fights, try to end the world, and start fights. Nothing good ever comes of Primals, eikons, gods, whatever you want to call them."     "So I kill them" 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      Meanwhile, behind Enkidu and Gilgamesh, Atalanta chases a bevvy of crabs into the shoals. She is coralling them, at least, where they can't get away from Asterios easily. She came here for crab, and damn it, she's getting crab. There's at least three or four there, at least. 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' Asterios is a good hunting partner. You see, while most would be busy scurrying around to try and wrangle as many tasty shellfish as possible, Asterios... Is thinking with his /brain!/ By which we mean that he's somehow raised a barrier of sandstone and coral in the crabs' path, leaving Atalanta free to corral them in at her leisure. This is /smart/ fishing! 

:'''{{#var:6730|Android 17 (6730)}} has posed:'''     Android Seventeen looks towards Enkidu for a moment.     "Yeah, that's fair. Well, if you're ever interested I could think of a few other places." He shrugs. He wasn't mad about being hit with a bow of a ship. He did try and splatter jellyfish on his friend, apparently. Not that Seventeen knew Enkidu was his friend.     "Well, then I call us even then." he considers Gil before shrugging the whole situation off. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     Solomon chuckles at Raha's anti-god rant, then dives into one of his own. "That... sounds about right, actually. My homeworld of Gielinor has actually been god-free for a couple thousand years, mainly thanks to the one god who actually cared, Guthix. He kicked all the other gods out and established his Edicts to keep them from coming back, which ended a war between them that threatened to wipe out all civilization. And yet, despite being banished, those gods still manage to cause strife and discord, genuine malcontent, among otherwise friendly people. A shame." He cracks a smile. "Perhaps we can fight gods together sometime." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel keeps an eye on the situation with Andoris 17 while she helps Atlanta and Asterios bag some crab. She helps with the hearding of the crabs, after Atalanta. "So how do we even cook these creatues?!" She asks Atalanta. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "I'd like that, though I haven't really tested my powers against the gods of other worlds. I've..." Raha sighs, and does some mental math. "I've bested 5 different Primals. A constructed Primal, If you want to call the Ultima Weapon that." He's still keeping his eyes on Enkidu and Android, even if they're not actually posturing into fighting at this point. 

:'''{{#var:6794|Enkidu (6794)}} has posed:''' "That could be enjoyable," Enkidu agrees. "But right now we're conquering the waves via surfboard," he explains. Enkidu looks back at N'raha. Enkidu does not blink. Or breathe. It's kind of unsettling. 

:'''{{#var:1138|Atalanta (1138)}} has posed:'''      "Kill. Pull crab meat out or leave in, depending on part. Get fire. Add butter. Salt, pepper. Not as good as bear, but bear always good. Crab hard to find." Atalanta finishes herding about five crabs into the thing, and then nods at Asterios. Go for the mercy kills, dear minotaur. 

:'''{{#var:1099|Gilgamesh (1099)}} has posed:'''      Gilgamesh chuckles. "He keeps leaping off the board to talk to fish." 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:'''     "I pray we never have to fight mine. The stories of their god wars are... chilling. If those stories are accurate, it'd be a desperate battle even at our peak." The eagerness which Solomon had brought to the CRAB BATTLE has entirely given way to solemn musings with Raha. "Though, perhaps not a hopeless battle. And, at any rate, that's not something my world's gotta worry about right now." He pauses, losing himself in thought for a bit before picking back up. "So, on a lighter note, what do you do for fun around here?" 

:'''{{#var:1137|Asterios (1137)}} has posed:''' "Mmn? No, no," Asterios says to Atalanta as he starts forming a sanstone basin of sorts around the scuttering crabs. "Don't kill them until we're ready to eat. Otherwise, rot quickly. Don't worry, will be able to keep them like this. Then when we go to boil, I will kill." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Well... we're winding down, yeah. The catman sighs a bit, and shifts to squat a bit on the sand, like some slavic cat or something. He looks comfy at least, all lanky like that. Damn cats. His ears flick a bit as his tail swishes in the sand. "Fun? Don't get a lot of that, lately. Not when you're a Hero, capital H." Though, the bristle is already coming off of that. "...I fish. I cook for people. Try to sneak off and do silly quests. That sort of thing." 

:'''{{#var:8|Deelel (8)}} has posed:''' Deelel learns a bit of useful information of how to cook crabs. She seem to have a light of understanding as she gets it. She'll jump back and out as the intention is to hold the crabs until it's time to eat them. "Sounds good to me!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Don't think Raha doesn't see you, Enkidu, Mr. I'm A Golem.     Those green eyes squint a bit, but he doesn't mention the 'magitek' or wharver. Rude. 

:'''{{#var:6655|Solomon Roget (6655)}} has posed:''' Silly quests, eh? "I, ah, think I might be able to help, there. With the quest thing." Solomon's got his cheery mood back. "I'm offering a hefty reward for the successful retrieval of a shield that's extremely important to my world's history. Might be worth your while, if you're interested." He takes a bit to look around, noting the party seems to be dispersing back to their various homeworlds. "Contact me if you feel like helping out." After a few more pleasantries, he'd head back home. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Ooooh. 'Hefty Reward' gets Raha to perk up, and he smiles, waving at Solomon as the fellow Godslayer???? wanders off.     The sun is setting on Costa Del Sol, but the parties are just starting.     In more ways than one. 
}}

5030/A Crystal In A Dune ft. Raha and Mihk

2018-12-07T01:28:05Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/01/20 |Location=Immortal Flames HQ, Ul'Dah |Synopsis=Mihk and Raha do a bit of detective work to puzzle out who killed an Amaljah spy in the I..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/01/20
|Location=Immortal Flames HQ, Ul'Dah
|Synopsis=Mihk and Raha do a bit of detective work to puzzle out who killed an Amaljah spy in the IF.
|Cast of Characters=819, 573
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Let it never be said that the Immortal Flames did not know how to handle prisoners. The Brass Blades may be the 'police' of Ul'dah, but the Grand Company still had work to do when prisoners of war were brought in. Even if they were murderous beastmen.     But now one of those beastmen had been murdered in his cell. And the list of suspects was great. And no one wanted to talk to each other, it would seem. It would have been a breeze for the Flames to call up the Maelstrom to borrow an arcanist, of course, but that would have required their brass to talk to each other and then let the Maelstrom or the Yellow Jackets into Ul'dah on Official Business which would have meant, well. Questions. Like how the Amalj'aa ended up dead.     And so, Outside Help. The Scions.     Raha sighs a bit, looking at the setting sun through the small window to the outside world, the metal bars blocking off escape from the dimly lit cell. The scene had been trampled, and the body taken away of course. No one wanted a rotting lizardman in their midst, right? Right.     Swift, High Commander of the Flames, stood close by. "Mr. Raha, are you certain she'll come? I have to admit, the stories you told..."     The Miq rubs at his face and sighs at the mess in the cell. "She'll be here. As much damage as has been done... she still loves Eorzea. She doesn't want to see the Primals any more than we do." 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Click click click. Boot heels approach down the hallway. Mihk has never been one for the City States. The Guild has largely been accepted here but there are still many tensions in her own version of Eorzea. The Keeper turns the corner to the cell, and stands in the doorway, looking around and heaving a sigh. "I hope your men haven't trampled all traces, it's difficult enough to pick out lifetraces with an undisturbed scene, let alone one that has had uncareful boots stamping all over it." her tone is deadpan, but she seems to be here sincerely. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha casts a fleeting smile at the fellow Miqo'te, ears perking. "Hey, you came. Nice to see you." Though, she's already down to business. He shuffles back to the corner, and clears his throat.     Swift is the next to step forward, looking into the room a bit. "As much as I could, once I found out what had properly happened. Someone actually called in a conjurer to save the bastard but it was no use. Dead long before anyone checked on him. Blood everywhere." He taps the underside of his jaw. "Someone shoved a dagger right up into his brain. Or he shoved it himself... or... well. You're the person we're asking." The commander tosses a glance to Raha, who shrugs a bit.     The cell is bloody, with a large number of footsteps tromped through the bloody muck on the ground. There's also a stool that apparently was used to chain up the Amalj'aa to the great big shackles on the walls, and a bucket, also soaked in blood. It looks like someone had to turn it over to empty it out partway as well. Ew. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk sighs softly, and unhooks her Tome from her belt. "I warn, this will not be easy, nor will the information I do glean be very clear." Aether begins to gather into the page, the Geometry lifting from the page and beginning to turn, animating with the flow of energy. "I will, however, do what I can."     The Miqo'te casts the spell, filling the room with animated 'glyphs' that seem to be seeking any unique markers in the general mess. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Glyphs and symbols appear and sway across the room, the Geometry flickering to life and slowly building up... a resonance. Magic was math was science was information, and this room is a wealth of that information.     THINGS TO VIEW IN THIS ROOM:     Manacles     Blood Splotches     Stool     Bucket     Cell Door     Raha     Swift     Raha is rather surprised to see himself singled out, for the record. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk begins at the top of the list, focussing her attention on the manacles, though she does glance briefly at Raha for a moment... she'll get to him soon. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The manacles are heavy and made of cold steel, the sort of thing one might bind up the more magical sorts of things that one might fight out in the wolds of Eorzea. They are also Aether enchanted, to subtly inflict... discouragement from struggling in them, too much.     Magical traces of blood from... someone Fire-aspected. Maybe the Amalj'aa but it's a lead. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk nods, writing the information into her tome in a glowing ink, before turning her attention to Raha. Might as well find out why the spell put a tracer on him. Her mismatched eyes casting over him to retarget the spell's focus. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     "Uwah, hi hello." Raha's eyes cross a bit as Mihk focuses on him, and...     The Echo pulses within him, and he blinks a few times. The touch of Mother Hydaelyn is close. Soothing.     But there's also a flash of anger and rage, deep within the Cat and his anxious smile. He's... hardened, since the last time Mihk's saw him, at least. He's been stained by the same blood that was on the manacles, that Fire-Aspect tinged in his aura, but it's fading now.     Raha raises his hand. "I was one of the guys who brought the bastard in, just f-for the record, and I have an alibi, if we're... uh, questioning people." 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     "Your aura has a fire aspected tilt... it is fading, but still there. Interesting." she doesn't seem to notice the 'presence' of Mother Hydaelyn, maybe she can't see the Light of the Crystal?     That done, she turns then to the blood splotches, of course writing down the findings before moving on. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     BOY THAT WAS A LOT OF BLOOD. It must have been gallons of the stuff, all told, before it flooded down the drain in the middle of the muddy cell. There's footsteps in the muck, it looks like from when soldiers came in to take the corpse away, and from the 'what's all this then' phase of the 'investigation'.     hough... funny. One set of the footprints seems to be... under the blood stain, in the muck, before the blood filled it. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha also brushes at himself a bit, blushing at the 'fire-aspected' comment, and mumbles something about 'firey heart of a warrior' and tries to look gallant at Mihk. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk is focussed on her task at hand, stooping and frowning a bit at the footprints. "There is a footprint here." she says, gesturing to a very confused looking area of the floor. "It was there before the blood spilled... however it is impossible to tell who or what made it." She shakes her head, then shifts to the door of the cell, standing and brushing her robe out. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Swift... seems to react more strongly to that than the rest of the comments. "Before? Blast it, someone DID see something." He brushes at the runes hovering over him, and tries to walk away towards a guardsman down the hall, who snaps to attention and tries to look ANYWHERE but the Commander. Oh dear.     The Cell Door... curious. This particular model has no latches on the inside, no keyhole, nothing. Even the hinges are on the outside, the better to keep nosy prisoners from removing the door entirely, it seems. The only way in or out, is through the outside, after it's been unlocked and unbarred. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk narrows her eyes a little as Swift leaves, seems she'll have to wait to 'inspect' him. Her attention goes to the upturned bucket, focusing in on that with her Magic enhanced perception. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha blinks a bit over at the bucket, and shakes his head. "Man, that's just a bucket, you're gonna find poo in there, Mihk."     Well, there might have been poo at one time. If this was that sort of bucket. Someone went to the trouble to get a new bucket, before this mess happened, because all that's in it is Amalj'aa blood. Or the traces of it.     Also... steel? Which is odd in a tin bucket. Weapon steel? Mihk's getting a sense of a blade of some sort.     There's also... a less bloody spot, in the shape of a bucket, directly underneath the place where the Amalj'aa was likely hanging when he was murdered.     Sacrifice? Hmmm. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     "This is odd. It's new, likely changed not long prior to the incident." she furrows her brow, writing down what she finds. "Steel? This is a tin bucket, but I am sensing the elemental presence of weapon-grade steel, some kind of blade.     She then looks to another spot as her eyes are drawn to it, pointing it out. "There... maybe the bucket was used to catch blood as a form of sacrifice?" She then shifts to the stool nearby, focussing on that. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The stool is likewise coated with blood, the fluid soaked in to make a fine brown patina at this point. But there's smear marks on the sides where someone might have been standing when stuff went down.     Raha blinks at all that, and grumbles. "Gross. So they stabbed him and stole his blood? W-what can you do with blood like that?" There's an uneasy green look to his face now.     Swift is now in full Drill Instructor Mode outside, giving someone the ass-chewing of their life. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk looks out into the hallway, and while Swift is occupied, focusses her senses on him. He was marked for a reason, now it's time to find out why. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The Geometry is... scant on this one, though there's lifetrace of the Amalj'aa on him as well.     He seems to be finishing up his lecture on proper procedures and security, and turns back to the group, walking over. "...Many apologies. There apparently really needs to be a refresher course on how to handle... sensative prisoners, if what you're starting to describe is true." He readjusts his hat, putting himself good and proper again.     There's red-brown smudges on his gloves. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk looks the Commander over. "Tell me, Commander... where did you get those smudges on your gloves?" she asks conversationally, closing her tome and hooking it back on her belt. "Regardless, there's precious little information here, your men did a smashing job of destroying many possible leads."     She doesn't have much love for the City States and a very sarcastic streak. "I can tell you that this was likely somehow linked to the Beastmen. There are signs of sacrificial blood gathering." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Swift looks down at his gloves and then up at the arcanist, and... has the good sense to look embarassed. "Bother, I thought that... hrm. I tried to place everything back into the place of where it was when the initial report came in. I had... I thought it would help with the investigation." WELP.     The 'trampling' bit also gets a sigh. "Many apologies, Lady Lihzeh. We are... not used to working with arcanists or the police forces of the other City-States." He takes off the cap, and bows. "We'll make sure to get this information to Raubahn and the others. I'm sure Mr. N'raha has the same task for the Scions."     The Seeker smiles, and nods at Swift. "Yeah, I will. Hey, g-go on ahead, I've got to talk with Mihk for a bit. Is that alright?"     Swift nods, and then stalks off, replacing his cap and glaring at the guard as he passes.     A sigh, and a slump of shoulders from Raha, who shakes his head. "It's not much, but... it's a start. Someone let someone in to kill that guy. I mean, I don't blame them for that, but... gathering blood? That's just... Ugh." 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     "I smell something foul, and it is not the lingering corpsestench." Mihk says, looking over at Raha after Swift has left to inform the City Leader. "I suspect Tempering... but who, and how, are a mystery." she then steps out of the cell, beckoning Raha to follow. "Let us not linger in a house of the dead." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha doesn't have to be asked twice, and he steps out into the hallway, and starts heading past the guard himself... before turning to Mihk. He takes a breath, and seems to be steeling himself for something. "Okay, so, I was thinking and... You're not with the Feds any more, there are no Feds, you're not a 'baddie'." He makes the airquotes there...     And then he reaches into his pockets to pull out two things. A linkpearl, and the badge for a Free Company. It's a stylized symbol of the Mother Crystal, with points of light around it. "...I want you with us. I mean, with the group... trying to fix this place. Doc and Highwind are gone, so it's just been... me. Trying to fix everything."     It doesn't take magesight or Geomety to see the exhaustion in the Miqo'te's face, his body sagging with the effort to ask for help like this. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk looks at the linkpearl, and the badge. She furrows her brow, looking up from the items to Raha's face. "I was never a 'baddie'" she replies, airquoting much in mimicry. "My goals were the survival of Eorzea. If that meant serving it up to the Garleans, as the City States were not doing a good enough job, then so be it." she adds firmly. "That has not changed. Eorzea is my concern, it is my home, I was born here and I intend to die here, an old woman, having lived a long, fulfilling life. If the City States can do that for me, I shall back them. If the Garleans can, they shall have my support. Another force outside of our world? So be it."     She takes the items, and nods to Raha. "You have my Tome, Warrior, you and your Scions of the Seventh Dawn but know my standing on matters concerning these things." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     A wry grin from Raha, as he leans up against a wall outside the cell block. "I understand, trust me. That's why... I work with the Scions and others like them." No spilling the beans on the Watch, no sir. "...Thanks, by the way. This is... this is bigger than us, it's bigger than all of us." 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     "The whole multiverse is bigger than all of us. We can only manage to do our own small part in it." replies Mihk with an air of pragmatic resignation. "I shall bring this up to my collegues in the League, we shall see if they are able to shed some light where my eyes have failed... I shall be in touch." At that, she turns, and begins to walk away, lest Raha stops her. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha watches her go for a few moments, and then...     "Still on for fancy dinner, then?" A hopeful tone to that. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk pauses, looking over her shoulder as her tail swishes. "... sure. Later." she replies and amazingly, offers a small smile. A rare sight indeed on the drow-skinned Keeper. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Oh. Oh hey. That actually worked.     And then Raha's fluff grows three sizes, and he beams back. Yessssssssssss. 
}}

5041/An Ember Enkindled

2018-12-07T01:26:38Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/01/22 |Location=Immortal Flames HQ, Ul'dah |Synopsis=The Watch discusses the results of their investigation into the mole that plagues the Imm..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/01/22
|Location=Immortal Flames HQ, Ul'dah
|Synopsis=The Watch discusses the results of their investigation into the mole that plagues the Immortal Flames, and discovers the source of Ifrit's information.
|Cast of Characters=819, 573, 994, 1081, 675
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     HEAR... FEEL... THINK...     Raha floats, ever and always in that endless void. His body cradled in the aether by unseen forces, and he once again gazes upon Hydaelyn.     And once again... any answers the Crystal wishes to give... elude him. Ever and always, just on the edges of his perception. On the tip of his astral tongue, the pricking of ethereal eartips.     IMMORTAL FLAMES HQ     Raha snorts awake, as a young, redheaded miqo'te taps him on the shoulder. V'Kebbe snorts a bit, and pokes him in the ribs with the tip of a knife. "And just like that, the Bringer of Light died at the hands of a crook. Bleedin' like a stuck auroch, his last moments all 'oh why did I fall asleep here in bloody Ul'dah?'" She sticks out her tongue, and looks at the people gathering in the hall. There's... well. Raubahn, not sitting behind a desk but standing and looking at maps and charts with Swift and some of the other commanders. There's also rosters and charts and timetables and schedules. All of it laid out over the massive conference table in the middle of the room.     Raha grumbles a bit, and rubs at his side, where he was pricked. "Kebbe, remind me to just die in the gutter the next time Hydaelyn wants a hero."     The Rogue grins, and pokes him with the dagger again. "'Kin do that right now. But I 'spect the Flames aren't keen."     Their off-world guests should be arriving soon. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     'Off World' being a relatively loose term for one in particular. Mihk Lihzeh enters the conference room, boots clicking on the stone floor as she peruses through her open tome, as if familiarizing herself with it again.     Once she's close enough, the tome is snapped closed with a nearly resonant sound of metal gilt leather striking together around parchment, and she hooks the large volume back on her belt.     She says nothing, for she has nothing to say for the time being, content merely to watch. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore has come once again to assist Raha in the plight they had slowly been learning more about through the encounters with the fishmen and lizardmen. This was not her world, but she could see many of the same dangers in what it faced. To be honest the similarities between the thralls of the Primals and the cults of the Regi in their zealous natures was enough in itself to be frightening. A fear these people should not have to constantly live with, even when it was giving the local enforcement efforts trouble. It was her duty as both a knight and a member of the Watch to help get to the bottom of the matter and resolve it. And that is why she was here. Even if she couldn't shake the nagging in the back of her mind that there was a something much deeper to all this... 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     At least one of those guests will be exactly on time, if not a bit early. Celes had stepped into the room moments ago, having not wandered one second too many the streets of Ul'dah despite its charm and beauty. It is largely unlike any city on her world, but her professional and trained soldier side wouldn't let her play tourist until she'd seen to what she'd been invited for. Don't worry, Gladiators' Guild, she'll spare you a moment later. Might spare the Thaumaturges' Guild a look too. And a few other places.     FOR NOW, though, she's where she should be, patiently waiting for Raubahn or one of his commanders to detach themselves from those maps and charts. It wouldn't do to just impose herself, and Raha had mentioned reluctance on these people's part to ask for help at all, so making a good first impression will be key. 

:'''{{#var:675|Cirra Constantine (675)}} has posed:'''     One of the few worlds that share any similarity to Galianda, Hydalyn makes for more comfortable surroundings for the Judge Cirra Constantine then many others.     The woman stands to one side of the room within Immortal Flames HQ. Her helmet removed and tucked under her arm so that no one mistakes her for a LEgatus of the Empire. Though her armor is /quiet/ as stylized as theres, with more flat planes and an eye to effcieny then the status inspired Garlean equipment. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha... smiles at Mihk as he spots her, and starts heading for the conference table to stand with the rest of the crowd, looking over the papers and maps and such. A lot of it doesn't mean much to him, but... he's got the gist of what they're doing here.     Raubahn perks up at Celes and Athela arrive, tossing them a nod. Celes in particular gets a more personal greeting, as the Flame General shuffles through the crowd to extend a massive hand. "General. I wanted to thank you personally for the help you've provided. My staff say you've had plenty to handle on your own, and the needs of Eorzea certainly do not belong to you." Oh. Well!     Cirra gets a nod as well. "Judge Constantine. It is good to see you in Thanalan again. Mr. Raha has spoken highly of the Academy in the past." Though, there's a little darkening of eyes at part of that. Let it never be said he didn't harbor... some misgivings in the Syndicate's dealings with the Zaibatsu. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore nods in return to Raubahn, then steps out of the large man's way as he approachs Cirra for more direct greetings. Instead she moves closer to the table as well, pausing to glance over the assorted maps covering it. They don't mean a lot to her, but she gets what they are and why the militia operation would probably have them spread out like this. The only thing she says is a faint thoughtful "Hmm" but she's going to politely wait for the locals to actually explain their matters at hand. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk nods back to Raha. She doesn't mind being ignored by the big Commander. Probably for the best, really.     As Raubahn greets the others, Mihk steps in a bit closer to the maps and charts, looking them over with her mismatched eyes. The dusky Keeper might just be blending into the background. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     "Just Celes is fine. I haven't been 'general' in..." Close to a year now? Time passes. "But it's fine, really. I can't just sit back if there's something I can do to help others. I'm happy to lend your men a hand, Flame General."     Allowing herself to soften a bit after the greetings phase, she goes straight to the heart of the matter. "How can we be of assistance? I heard the prisoner had been killed in his cell, which leaves only a very few suspects. Raha also mentioned the Amalj'aa are working to summon Ifrit, which leaves us short on time to deal with them." 

:'''{{#var:675|Cirra Constantine (675)}} has posed:'''     Cirra nods to Rauban in returns, "Thank you General. Alexander Academy is meant to train people for exactly these kinds of situations, so I'm certien we can be of service to Eorzea."     "If this 'PRimal' in the image of the God Ifrit is summoned, I'm sure the people of Galianda - and the Ifrit continent especially; would consider it an affront to the natural order." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     As Athela and Mihk start looking over the papers, it's clear that the officers have been working to cross reference data. Counter intelligence. A tough thing to do when you can't trust spies for some things. Red pens and chalk and ledgers and everything.     There's also maps of Amalj'aa territory, along with esoteric readings and aether tracking from the representatives of the Thaumaturge's Guild. Looks like they're trying to pin down the location of 'Where The Crap is Ifrit?"     Celes gets a nod, and Rauhban hooks his thumbs into the belt of his scabbards. "It's a little late for 'trying to summon', I'm afraid. I fear that moment has already passed, and now the Amalj'aa are working to keep their God on this side of the Lifestream where He apparently wants to be." Another look to Cirra. "It's already an affront to us, so we sympathize with that. And thank you for your concern."     A look over to Mihk, and he waves a bit with a smile. "Detective, tell them what you told us about your investigation into the death of the prisoner." Oooooh, Mihk, you're a detective now! 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Difficult to do when you're not sure if you can even trust your own scouts and spies. But these people were still trying to do their best for their land despite the complications and you had to respect them for that. If the Amalj'aa were stealing supplies and people, they had to be taking them somewhere, right? Even with the circumstances there was only so many places to look. Something had to turn up sooner or later. Athela looked up as attention was called to Mihk, setting curiosity in the maps aside for now. She gives the arcanist a nod of both interest and assurance. "Please do, tell us what you have learned." 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk seems a bit surprised, but tilts her head, and opens her tome. "The killing was sacrificial in nature, from what little I was able to piece together from the disturbed scene, someone or something was allowed into the cell, stabbed the prisoner and extracted his blood into a recently exchanged bucket. The exact nature of the sacrifical ritual is unknown, no Aetheric residue remained." She reads from the tome, turning a page. "Traces of weapon-grade steel were found in the bucket. Possibly the after trace of the murder weapon." She looks up from the tome and across the others. "That is all I could glean from the cell." 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     "I see. Then we just need to strike before they figure that out." Judging by all the maps strewn about, that might be easier than done for the moment though. Not to mention there's still that threat of an inside job that could foil them.     Celes turns to look at Mihk, when she's told to lay out her findings. She hms, thoughtfully, before pointing out: "Blood into a bucket? That can't have been fast. I assume the guards stationed at the time were already questioned, what did they have to say?" 

:'''{{#var:675|Cirra Constantine (675)}} has posed:'''      Cirra nods again, "Indeed." She turns to listen to Mihk and frowns. "The bucket was left behind, and had traces of steel in it?" She steps towards the map strewn table, "Then how was the blood removed without magic, and where did it go?" She scans over the maps of terrain around Ul'dah.     "With no traces of magic then it would have to have been done by gravity, or by a mechanical pump. IF the prisoner had been strung up it would have been obvious whe he was discovered, or he would have rope burns." She tilts her head to look at one map.     "Is there an iron mine or steel mill nearby?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha steps in on that one. He smiles at Celes, and takes one of V'kebbe's knives, and taps the blade under his chin. "Oh, it was real fast. They slammed a dagger right under his throat while he was chained to a wall. Probably couldn't even get a word off. Whoever did it got messy as the seven Hells though."     Swift completes the rest of that questioning, looking frankly mad at Mihk's explanation. "There was apparently a distinct lack of guards outside the cells at the time of the attack. I have made it clear that we needs be more professional with our... prisoner handling."     Kebbe smiles. "They let me peep a crack at it too! No one jimmied that stopper, so someone had the right key."     Swift... is just more than a little grumpy and embarrassed at all this, but Rauhban claps him on the shoulder. "The time for pointing fingers amongst ourselves can come later."     He then points a meaty finger to Cirra. "We thought of that but the only mines close enough for the bastards to be doing that would be the Copperbell Mines, and those are closely watched. No Amalj'aa out there. However, there's no shortage of salvaged metal to be had. And that can be smelted wherever you've got a spare place to put a large furnace and a large enough supply of fire crystals."     Raha himself... starts to look off into the distance at something, eyes going slightly unfocused. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     "That ammount of crystal would give off a lot of Aetheric resonance... have you contacted any other Arcanists to help pinpoint a large concentration of Fire-aspect Aether?" asks Mihk, leaning on the table a bit as her tail fluffs up and lashes back and forth. "The Thaumaturges are adept at elemental Aether, however they are not trained to localize Aetheric emissions." 

:'''{{#var:675|Cirra Constantine (675)}} has posed:'''     At the mention of salvaging metal Cirra wonders out loud, "A former battle ground?" Then recalls seeing airships over Ul'dah, "Or a crashsite." She muses. Her finger traces the only raillines that lead away from U'ldah, but as it curves away she doesn't seem confident that it's the right lead.     "Bonfire?" she reads off the name on the map questioningly. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore rubs her chin with one hand as the various details are related. "Then it was most certainly a job on the inside. Distressing. I would ask who would be so callous to sell out his own kind... but that would be hypocritical, considering that similar events have often occured in my own homeland as well. Men, women and pokemon alike trading their very lives to false gods in blind faith of a maligned belief..." Thoughtfully the young knight turned her attention back to the maps scattered about the table. Looking at them, she recalls the large force the lizardmen had attacked their trap with. "Even to know we were planning a deception to trap them, the force they struck with was quite sizable. It would take considerable.. logistics, is it not called, to move that many soldiers into place and keep them concealed. Not to mention giving accomidation to returning with their stolen goods and kidnapped people." She leaned over a little to rest a hand on one of the maps, reconizing the area displayed as similar to where their 'trap' had been planned. Unfortunately the rest of the locations mean little to her unfamiliarity with the lands. Though Cirra might be trying to pick up on a similar thread. "Flame General?" Athela looked up to the mountainous man. Many people probably found him imposing, and indeed he was. But at the same time, his job was much the same as her own, and she asked her questions with no disrespect, only her own curiosity trying to puzzle through this. "I presume your men have kept track of all the locations raided? Or that other resources have disappeared from? That would not be easy to move about, even if they normally use squads only a third of the size the one we were counter-ambushed with. They have to have a proximity location, both to stay close to their targets, and in contact with this spy or whatnot they have." 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     "I see. Then it really could be anyone. I would place doubt on whoever's in charge of scheduling the patrols first and foremost, but when you think about it it could be anyone with access to the schedules. Pointing fingers too hastily would cause more harm than good," Celes admits with a sigh, but at least shge seems to be on the same page as Raubahn.     A glance at Athela, before Celes steps closer to the maps. "She's on to something. If you can mark every single target the Amalj'aa have hit, we should be able to tell the range of their territory. They'll likely be close to the center of it, unless they've historically been smart enough to avoid such a tell. Are they that clever?" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Swift... shuffles through the maps, before pulling a large sheet of parchment out... with a map of Southern and Eastern Thanalan. There's a smattering of red marks leading between Camp Drybone and Little Ala Mhigo along with lines leading off in suspected directions of travel of the raiding parties. "It's a large area, but all of the attacks have lead to supplies being carried off to the south. So, that puts their base of operations..." He pulls out map just of Southern Thanalan, and circles in the region of Zahar'ak. "Here." That region is noticeably sectioned off with notes and question marks. "These are all box canyons and cliffs and are where the Imperials and the Ul'dans pushed the beastmen over the years." He says this not without some irony. At least the Six Races know what it is they've done over the years to complicate things.     Rauhban murmurs. "The problem is, if they have access to their own linkshells, that spy could be anywhere."     Raha suddenly shakes awake with a start, eyes refocusing a little bit as he bluhs and stammers and his ears flutter. "Mihk, you... how much energy a-are we talking? Like... Would an aetheryte be enough to maintain a link? Like... a full aetheryte?" 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk looks over at N'raha. "Potentially, yes. Aetherytes are essentially just large Aether Crystals... if one were properly attuned..." she furrows her brow. "What makes you ask? You have been quiet and rather unattentive for this entire discussion." 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     "Canyons and cliffs, that would give them a tremendous advantage defending themselves... the ideal setup would be to strike from above after figuring out where exactly we need to drop." A glance towards Raha and Mikh, musing. "I saw your Aetherytes, through the city. They're large and visible. If the Amalj'aa have such a thing too, it should be trivial to spot from above. Then we'd know exactly where to strike."     If she were still in the Empire, certainly she'd suggest none of this matters and to just take an entire squad of Magitek Armor and enter through the front gates. Magitek is a terrible technology, but the impact it had to taking these kinds of decisions is pretty easy to feel when you don't have access to it. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore moves over a bit to look at the marked map Swift has pulled up while he's explaining, and points out Zahar'ak. "Canyons and other mountainous formations that they would be able to fortify to protect themselves," she nods in agreement with Celes. "Even knowing they are there, they would be difficult to retaliate upon.. Might even have tunnels reaching towards the other areas that they could be using to escape notice." A small sigh escapes her, and one hang goes to rest on the tuffed hilt Resolute Blade sheathed from her belt. It was a motion of reassurance, to feel that representation of her diety close at hand. "Zealots thrive on aboslute certainty in their source of power and beliefs, to the point of complete disregard of their own minds and lives to the sake of the cause... You may be right about having already summoned Ifrit and now collecting energy and sacrifices to strengthen his 'anchor' here. That would be the sort of assurance in their purpose to begin reaching farther and taking more dangerous, more -organized- actions to do so." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha... blushes, when Mihk catches his inattentiveness, and shuffles around for one of those pieces of charcoal on the table to make some scribbles on a spare sheet of paper. "Uh... I had an Echo. I saw... An Amalj'aa priest and a bunch of others... Praying and chanting..." The scribbles continue.     Swift looks over to Athela, and frowns. "That would indeed explain the increased attacks, the needs of the Amalj'aa to keep getting the resources. Certainly keeping Ifrit here... and let him gain power... will require more and more Aether."     Rauhban looks to the others, and prods Swift as Celes makes an excellent point. "We have access to airships, Lady Chere. Not as many of the combat variety as before the Calamity, but we do have them. What would you and the others need to get in there, if this pans out?"     Raha is still drawing, but it looks like a very rough sketch of a cobbled together Aetheryte using a massive corrupted crystal. "This, they were around this." He holds up the sketch to Mihk, the only proper magic user in the room. "Would you be able to find something like this, in Southern Thanalan?" 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     "Likely, just one ship, Flame General, and a distraction to keep the Amalj'aa from swarming us too badly. I have magic that'll let us float down towards the ground without needing to present large, visible targets like parachutes. If they've fortified the ground, we won't have to worry about walls and gates. We'll need to protect the ship from ballistas or anything similar they might be able to construct. I can handle at least some of the spells they might throw at us."     She turns towards Raha, looking at his sketch and adding: "And the means to find that. It'd be best if we knew where it was before we flew in, so that the pilot can get us directly there without needing to waste any time and remain open to attacks longer than needed."     That really just leaves one question. "But what do we do once we find it? Will destroying their Aetheryte immediatly banish Ifrit?" 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore taps a finger against her sword's hilt. "Even if not directly, if they are using it to hold him here, breaking it would still be in our favor. If we can get to it, that is. Breaking the connection keeping their Primal active would be a savage blow to this confidence they've built up, making their efforts appear futile. It won't stop them from continuing to act up, but it will shake their resolve." She stands up, raising the hand to tap the finger against her headpiece near the temple instead. "From my experience with zealots, it is a battle that must be painful to their mind and beliefs, perhaps even moreso than physically." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raubahn claps Raha on the shoulder, and grins. Raha oofs and rocks in place. "Then it's settled! Once Detective Lihzeh is able to provide us with the coordinates of their device, we will make sure you heroes are able to get in and destry it, and banish the Lord of the Inferno back to the hellsdamned pits he came from."     Kebbe snickers a bit at Raha's plight, but the rest of the room starts nodding and planning and... scheming. Now who in the world could be scheming on a night like this? 
}}

5057/TRIAL: The Bowl of Embers (Hard)

2018-12-07T01:23:12Z

Phuzzy: Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/01/28 |Location=Bowl of Embers, Thanalan |Synopsis=The party finds themselves face to face with the Primal Ifrit, and takes down another threa..."

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2017/01/28
|Location=Bowl of Embers, Thanalan
|Synopsis=The party finds themselves face to face with the Primal Ifrit, and takes down another threat to Eorzea.
|Cast of Characters=819, 573, 1081, 994, 934, 774, 750
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     ABOARD THE ALLIANCE AIRSHIP GOLDEN DUCAT     There's some general consternation from the crew and soldiers on board the airship tonight, as they make their way towards the Amalj'aa stronghold of Zahar'ak. The ship's been fitted with dark netting to help disguise the large air envelopes keeping her aloft, but there's still a worry that a sharp-eyed scout is going to spot them and ruin everything.     Raubahn is not here himself, but his voice crackles over linkpearls as the ship closes in towards its target. Several Flame Sergeants are giving final orders to their men as they make ready for their aerial insertion.     And Raha waits and paces like a caged panther. His tail swishes through the hole in his armor, his ears flick back and forth as he holds that helmet painted in the colors of the No-Name, and his axe rests heavy at his side. Not long now.     That's punctuated by the captain of the ship motioning in the quiet of the night. One minute to drop. Make ready, you lot. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     Mihk is reading her tome, and idly petting a small blue creature sat beside her on a bench. The pair might look out of place amongst armoured warriors, but the robed mage seems to be right at home. "I shall support our efforts with what magicks I can." she says, as the captain calls the time to drop. "I am otherwise rather weak in direct combat, so I would ask that others be able to assist and cover me while I cast." She is otherwise silent on matters otherwise. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     Celes stands to the side of the deck, wherever she can get the best view by looking over the railing. This isn't the Falcon or the Blackjack, but it's still very impressive. Making airships more common on her world hasn't been going too well due to other concerns keeping people busy, but she'll have to think about asking the Flame General how open-source the technology is.     When they reach their destination, or just about, Celes finally steps away from the edge of the ship, unsheathing Save the Queen and raising it high as it flashes a bright white and blue. White Magic floods the air, granting the Float status to the whole crew. It won't let them -fly- but it'll let them gently hover down without the need for a visible parachute to target.     People who want to handle their own descent or landing can ignore the spell if they'd like. Float isn't a replacement for those methods, most likely.     "I'll keep you covered," Celes says towards Mihk, at least throwing her name into that hat. She isn't going to mind if other people beat her to it, but she IS a knight, after all. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore is making a point of -not- pacing. There's enough pacing going on with others. Instead she's standing at a railing at the ready, focusing on the daunting task that lies ahead of them. Occassionally a breeze from the movement of the airship ruffles through her cloak and lengths of red hair, but otherwise she's remained quiet and still. This is not my world, and yet here I am fighting for it. Sea or Land, the World matters not. Justice strikes down all Evil where it lies. But how do I know I am not... stealing their story? You have little to fear, my Champion. If you were not meant to help make their story succeed, you would not of been drawn there to act. Athela blinks, shaking her head lightly. She was never sure if that was really Keldeo or just her mind's interpretation, but either way he was right. She would not be here if she was not meant to be a part of this risky venture. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:'''     It wasn't a few days ago that Will was strewn out by the sudden and nearly fatal application of LV.5 DEATH. But thanks to the rapid response of a certain white mage, he seems to have made a pretty strong recovery. The Chaser waits at a rail, tapping the tip of his boot idly into the deck. At least these guys probably don't have giant suits of powered armor, right? They'll probably be fine! Probably. At least, unless the Amal'jaa have something approximately as bad. Such as, perhaps 'being giant lizardmen' or 'summoning an incarnation of fire and destruction.' Both of those things are kind of awful.     Still, when the signal comes to disembark, Will flashes a smile and backrolls off the railing. He certainly will take advantage of Celes' magic as they fall. It's the second time now, and he's more used to the unusual sensation that Float induces. "Just leave snipin' to me," Will says on the way down. "Y'all just worry about what's in front of us! We'll be fine!" He says that a lot. It's usually a lie. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Dorian's found a place to lean against a wall, and looks as though he's quite relaxed. His usual smile is there, his hair and moustache are immaculately groomed as usual. The only sign that things might be less than normal is his outfit. Rather than his usual light leather armor and white cloak, his armor is quite a bit darker today, a dark, velvetty black. And the cloak has been left off completely. Probably due to the amount of blood he expects. Or maybe because he wants to blend in a little better in the dark, who knows?     He's got a different staff with him today, too. It's a simple wooden haft, inserted into what looks like a large, thick, gnarled branch. At the top of the staff, nestled in a tangle made by the branch's smaller branches, there is a large white orb. Aside from that, he looks as though nothing is wrong.     That is, however, what he wants it to look like. Inside? Oh, he's definitely worried. But see, if HE looks worried, then OTHERS will worry. And if others worry, they'll slip up, and get themselves hurt. They're basically taking on a god, from all accounts. Or if not a god, an archdemon. Dorian is no bloody Grey Warden. And he really doesn't want to die in saving the world from an archdemon, or something like it. But instead of focusing on that, he notes, "This is EVER so much better than a sea-going vessel. I will never understand how anyone can stay on board those things for more than a day without becoming violently ill."     Raha passes him while pacing, and he turns his gaze to the Miquo'te. With his usual light smirk -- and his usual arrogance -- he notes to Raha, "I'm sure by now you know what I'm capable of." Though he does offer a more honest-looking smile to Mihk as she speaks, and adds to Celes's words, "I've got some support magic too. I'm not all 'fire and brimstone'." He also sends a reassuring smile at Athela, even though she's been quiet.     Will's words get a smirk too. In a mock-scolding voice he notes, "You'll take a Barrier and you'll like it, young man." He waggles a finger at William. But he is clearly only teasing, as the smirk shuld note. As for Float? Well, that just looks all KINDS of dangerous. But, lacking any other means to get down without the ship landing, Dorian will also accept Celes's aid with the spell. He bows as it's cast, with a, "Thank you."     And then he'll head down with the rest of the group. He isn't flinging magic yet, though, even support stuff. His magic is fairly flashy, so he doesn't want to give their positions away before they even get started. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:'''     Everyone's favorite kangaroo mutant has been looking forward to taking the fight to these guys, after the last time they ambushed them. It's been some time coming, and she seems to be pretty much chomping at the bit to get out there and go to down.     "So is there a game plan? Or do we just rush in and start hitting things as soon as we hit the ground? I like it that way, but you know some people like to plan things out and use 'tactics' and such." She runs one last check on her armored gauntlets to make sure they're powered up. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     THE DUCAT     Raha, at least, has some semblance of a smile for Dorian, before he wiggles an ear, and slips that helmet on. There's the metallic muffle of the visor, as Raha pipes up. "It'll be... fine-ish. I've got Faith." He says that with some manner of conviction here. Something in the Echo? Something of a vision or something? Perhaps.     Rebound's question gets a nod from the Captain. "We're neutralizing their aetheryte, and making sure that Ifrit is definitely gone. Final approach!" ...It's not much to go on, but there's bound to be some manner of 'wing it' when one is going to be fightign a Primal.      The Ducat swoops low and fast, before the glint and glisten of a large corrupted crystal can be seen in the middle of a large circular area in the canyons below. There's the target! Now Now Now. The Captain and the Sergeants pump their fists in the Ready, Go hand signals to 'disembark' and start the proceedings. A number of the Flames are coming with too, thanks to conjurors slapping Float on those that Celes missed in her first wave of magic.     IN ZAHAR'AK     The good news is that the drop goes off smoothly, for the most part. It's only at the very last second that one of the beast men spots the clouds parting and the ship swooping past that the alarm is raised, and a gong is struck somewhere. You folks will have only a few moments to act before shit starts to unravel. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     "Fire will not do us any good here." Mihk says in reply to Dorian, as she stands, and unceremoniously steps off the airship, letting the Float spell catch her as she cradles her summoned Carbuncle in one arm, her tome open in her other hand as she begins to channel energy into it, even as she falls. The spotter is silenced with a bolt of Ruin, but too late to stop the alarm going off... "Formation! We must break through to the Aetheryte!" she calls, letting her summon down, then channeling a larger spell.     A pulse of energy washes out from her, and then concentrates around the others in the group, forming shields of blue interlocked hexagons. "Protect." she explains simply. It should help to defend against some of the lesser attacks that'll inevitably come their way. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:'''     "No fire?" Will actually looks a little disappointed. At least August isn't here. Poor guy would probably turn to ash within a few minutes. "Alright, well," Will mutters, drawing his weapon mid-descent. The Solano's light flickers then shifts to white. Around its barrel, the air seems to vibrate. "I guess this'll have to do. Well, better to know now than later."     Dorian gets a look, then a grin. "Hey, I ain't about to turn down anything that'll keep me from getting killed. Y'all do your thing!" And it looks as though Mihk is weaving a protective spell as well. That's two layers of protection! And that's approximately two more than Will had before. As soon as they land, the chaser breaks into a brisk hustle. "Where're we even headed?" He asks before peeking out from behind a rock. The Solano flares as he pulls the trigger, sending bolts downrange which, despite being apparently made of white light, seem to act much like you would expect a high caliber round to. They pop on impact, imparting a considerable amount of kinetic energy into whatever they might hit. He seems to be aiming for limbs, though. Maybe he's not quite convinced that these guys are completely irredeemable? 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' The Float is a welcomed addition to get off the ship, as otherwise they would have to resort to throwing down ropes and climbing, which could of left them vulnerable targets. A good shot with an arrow or a spell could of busted a rope, and that would be one less intruder. But no, it doesn't have to come to that. Once the are on the ground, it becomes an entirely different matter in transport. Athela draws her sword with one hand, and with the other, a glowing aquamarine crystal. "Then let us make most of those moments we have. Lancer, to the field." The pokejewel flashes brightly with blue light, and the armored Samurott appears before her. Athela grabs one of the spikes of his armor with her hand once the jewel is put away, and points forth with her sword in the other. "Charge!" The metal-clad sealion lowers his head, light glinting along the lance-like blade protruding from it, and slams his tail into the ground. It works like a spring, in addition to the low swells of water that burst around his limbs and underbelly, to launch the pokemon sliding towards their target's location! Any lizardmen that happen into the path of that gleaming blade rushing forth are going to have a bad time. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     There is a frown on Celes' face for a moment there, but she manages to hold the reprimand in. The soldier side of her was just very unhappy someone was on the ship who hadn't consulted the report, but she abstains from indulging it.     She swoops off the ship the moment it's time, leaping off with a gleam of magic already following her. The moment she spots the scouts and the loud gong, yellow lightning arcs around her form, and she makes use of still being in the air to try to take out an incoming squad of Amalj'aa while she can.     "Thundaga!"     Pew pew huge lightning bolts striking an area.     Then Celes lands with the others, glancing about to get her bearings, before ensuring she's in a position to try covering Mihk. "Try not to waste any time fighting if we can help it! Disabling the Aetheryte is our priority, not wiping their forces out! We'll take care of that if we don't have a choice, but not now!" 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     "...''Kaffas''." Uh-oh. Dorian's cursing in Tevene this early in the mission? That can't be good. "We've been spotted." Obviously. He comments on Mihk's strike against the spotter, "Oh, good shot!" He's not kidding, either; he means it. "But not to worry, just because I happen to be good with fire doesn't mean I don't have more than just that." He waggles the staff he carries; there's a visible mist surrounding the orb on the end of the staff, falling like a super-fine mist of snow.     William's words get a smirk. "Wise words, my friend," he replies. Rebound's question gets a wry, "Well, that's apparently what the plan is '''now'''." The wryness isn't aimed at her, no, just at the situation. Celes speaks up, and he nods. "Or that!"     As for himself, the first thing Dorian does here? Barriers. Barriers for everyone! Fortunately he can use this ability on more than one person at a time. He'll try to get as many people in the area of effect as possible, because he can't just endlessly cast spells. The less mana he has to spend getting things done, the better. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' Yeah, that's why she usually doesn't bother with plans. Because something about plans and first contact with the enemy. Rebound shifts her weight in midair as she falls towards the ground, aiming for one of the lizard men. A lot of kangaroo lands on top of him. It's a good way to break her fall without killing herself. The lizard man might not be so lucky, but that's not really her problem right? She rolls off of the ground and gets back onto her feet, "Alright boys! C'mon and get me!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     ZAHAR'AK     As the offworlders start to land and take shots at the approaching Amaal'ja, there's a tension building in the air. Archers start taking shots at the crowd, their arrows splashing into Protect barriers, and crumbling against floating Barriers. Athela's CHARGE-ing attack bowls a number of the beastmen over as well. Raha lands with a crash of platemail and a burst of aether, loud and angry and attracting enmity already. Lightning crackles and sparkles and lizards go flying.     THE DUCAT     One of the engineers on the airship suddenly looks up from his controls on the wheelhouse of the ship. "SIR! We're getting massive spikes in the aetheric projectors! Th-" There's not even enough time for a Fatal Science Explanation before there's an explosion on the Airship, and several secondary explosions... and the Ducat pitches forward, a fatal dive into the side of the canyon.     ZAHAR'AK     There's a cheer among the Amaal'ja, as a priest climbs up to a platform overlooking the Aetheryte. "BEHOLD, fleshlings! You have been undone! This day already belongs to Ifrit! HAIL THE LORD OF THE INFERNO!"     Ya'll been sold out, again. 

:'''{{#var:573|Mihk Lihzeh (573)}} has posed:'''     The Airship explodes and crashes into the canyon wall. Mihk's eyes track its descent, before locking onto the distant platform where the Priest bellows from. She takes a breath, and with a pulse of Aether, calls back. "Your Lord of Flame shall be snuffed out, and every last one of your misbegotten kind ground into the sand of this canyon. Upon that you have my solemn oath, Beastman." her voice carrying on the wind as she begins charging up another spell. This time, a huge Geometry begins to fill the canyon, tracing along the walls, the ground, buildings... and then it locks into place, and an eruption of choking Miasma erupts from every surface, clogging up the canyon and making sight almost impossible...     For the Amaalj'a. The Flames and the other Elites, would find they can see and breathe just fine within the choking fog. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' The charge starts off strong, but then catastrophe strikes the Ducat and it pays a terrible cost for getting them into the enemy's lair as it is sent crashing down towards the cliffsides. Naturally the enemy steps forth to brag and gloat. Which in turn gets a booming roar from the Samurott. Athela makes some quick remarks of support to her allies over the linkshell, then stands upon her armored beast's backside, Resolute Blade once more held out at dramatic length. "This day is not yet lost, fiends! The only thing your false master is going to be is sorely disappointed as the sword of Justice pierces whatever darkened hunk of ash and charr serves as an empty heart!" And then the Samurott surges forward with surprising oomph for his armored bulk, heeding not the smoke and fog billowing into the canyon. His head is held low, once more aiming to plow throught the enemy lines and make a path for the heroes to reach their target. And this time the blade tears with even greater force than before, Retaliate empowered by avenging the brave souls lost upon the crash. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     There goes their ship. That's bad.     Timetables have been messed with.     Celes' blade flashes white and blue again. This time the magic that flows from it bends the flow of time in everyone's favor, granting Haste to the party. It won't make them into The Flash or anything but running faster is still running faster.     Coupled with the Miasma spell, it should give them an edge reaching the Aetheryte before any more things go horribly south. And so Celes gives Mihk a nod, a little bit unhappy she's breaking her offer to cover her, though the Arcanist does seem to know what she's doing. They'll just have to be fast enough the Amalj'aa can't overrun her.     Celes makes a break for the Aetheryte then, leading by example. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Dorian's attention is drawn upwards to the explosion of the airship. Their only way out. More than that, he's pretty sure no one on board survived. Innocent people killed, and for what? So some overgrown fire-darkspawn could live again? He mutters several more rude words in Tevene under his breath in a long, angry stream. It's NOW that smirk starts slipping. It's said in Thedas that people from Tevinter are just naturally mean and evil. Anyone from his own world who saw the look on Dorian's face right now would be utterly convinced of that.     He is PISSED now.     But his only addition to the various speeches his allies make to the Amaal'ja is a quiet, "Right. Gloves off, then." Odd. One might think that someone as full of himself as Dorian seems to be most of the time would have a lot to say, particularly here. But this? It's unlikely even his allies can hear him in this racket. It is worth noting, however, that his voice has a hiss to it now that almost makes him sound like he might have some snake in his lineage. Sibilant and full of malice. He IS a Tevinter, after all.     He's about to make it even more difficult for the lizardmen, too. He raises a hand into the air and a purple-white orb of lightning appears, seemingly attached to his hand by a thin 'cord' of lightning. He clenches his hand into a fist and seems to 'snap' the 'cord' with a vicious downward motion of his arm.     The orb remains above, but casts a near-invisible 'net' on the ground that will attempt to corral enemies within its effect range into an area. It shuld be even harder to see with Mihk's miasma interfering with enemy vision. Perhaps the Cage will make it easier to eliminate them. It might also do some damage of its own if enemies happen to bumble outside the perimeter of the spell's radius. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' The mutant watches the ship go down, "Crap, so much for our ride." She mutters to herself, "I swear when we find out who is selling us out, I'm going to irp out their spine and beat them to death with it." She tilts her head and pops it, before she plants her feet and lifts off. She can't fly, but it might be hard to tell from how far she can jump. She is fling towards that priest, the one standing above it all. She's going to dive down on top of him, Impact Drivers to go to down on him as soon as she can get up there to him. She's not going to pull her punches. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:''' There's always someone who's gotta screw the metaphorical pooch, isn't there. Will blanches when he sees the airship go down, leaving them alone and isolated in a canyon full of angry lizardmen about to summon god-knows-what to destroy them all. That is, unless they can deal with the Aethercyte first. But that still doesn't answer the question of how the balls they're going to fight their way out of here. The answer might actually be 'genocide.' Will would really rather not.     "Alright y'all, let's hustle!" And hustle he does. Will plants his feet and kicks vaguely downward. A set of servo motors in his boots begin turning a set of tiny wheels. Will rockets forward towards their destination, sniping away at targets of opportunity whenever they might get in the team's way. There's no time to stay and fight, they've got to keep moving. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     ZAHAR'AK     Well shit, the party is not going down lightly, it seems. The Miasma goes down, and stymies most of the efforts at first resistance as the group makes a push for the Aetheryte, the massive corrupted crystal shimmering even through the poisonous cloud. The Electric cage from Dorian even manage to reach for the Priest, but a spell cast in reaction lashes it juuuust to the side of the towering Amaal'ja, ensnaring one of his subordinates instead, who goes flying into the dirt while being electrocuted. The same goes for the guy on the other side of the priest as a second spell pushes Rebound juuuust off course, letting her splinter and crack that platform and plaster a poor lizardman into a wall. Celes and Athela and William lead the charge, boosted by a time-ly Haste!     But Raha... is sticking close to Mihk. There's a look of resolute wrath in his eyes, and that axe comes around to challenge anyone who dares get close to the Arcanist. Let it never be said he doesn't take his duties as a tank seriously. "GO, CELES, I GOT THIS!" He's barely even done saying that as he launches a massive energy blast into an approaching punchsnek and lashes out at another group with an overpowering burst of aggravating Aether.     But as the group approaches the Aetheryte, something changes. All of the Amaal'ja, as one, put down their arms, and get to their knees. Uh.     Mihk and Celes and Raha are all going to sense what's about to happen as the Amaal'ja, one and all, start praying and chanting in the name of Ifrit, and the Aetheryte starts to shine and shimmer and... And activates. Involuntary teleportation, as a massive hunk of the ground comes with /everyone/ including the Flames and a number of the Amaal'ja.     THE BOWL OF EMBERS     And everyone ends up... somewhere else. It's a cave, at least, a towering, massive thing that smells of sulfur and charcoal and burned flesh and heat.     Somewhere in the mess of all this, a hyur is laughing. It's one of the Flame Sergeants, and he slowly stands, eyes sunken, his laughter boiling out of him.     There's aetheric pressure in the chamber, as the sounds of prayer start to resonate, start to rumble, start to penetrate into the collected energy in the room. O-oh dear.     In the middle of the room, a spark starts to kindle. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     "!"     They are somewhere else. Things were going great for a moment and now they are not. Celes is still frowning, but then it's kind of understandable in this situation. They were betrayed again, and now they're elsewhere! Some sort of infernal cave.     Chanting. Someone in Immortal Flames clothes. A spark in the middle. A growing spark in the middle. Oh. /Oh no./     Save the Queen flashes again, as it seems Celes' role today is that of the White Mage. Green and white magic sparkles in the air, forming a protective shell around the party. Mihk gave them Protect, she's giving everyone Shell, a barrier against magical damage. Because they are about to need it, she reckons.     "We're too late. I think we've been dragged into Ifrit's domain outright. We're going to have to fight him after all. At least we've found one of our traitors by the same token." Will that traitorous soldier in front of them interfere? Fighting Ifrit is going to be bad enough, but if they have to deal with Amalj'aa and traitors at the same time... 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore can't feel the things those sensative to the Aether can.... But honestly, she doesn't need to. Her familiarity with zealots and cults in itself is enough to tell her what's going on as they've entered the cave. Her brow furrows tightly as she steps off her steed's backside, fingers twitching briefly as they reclench around her relic sword's hilt. Resolute Blade even glows a little faintly, as if the divine energies that reside in it can also tell the evil that is about to come forth. Once she is off his backside Lancer plants his tail into the ground for support and rises up on his back legs. The front limbs grab the prongs of the armor on the opposite limb, pulling free the hilt-like objects. As he does so elemental energy surges from them, forming into a pair of longswords made of pressurized water. At the same time his armor shimmers and gleams, becoming as bright as if freshly polished as he uses Iron Defense to bulk up a bit. Athela, doing her best to remain undaunted, stands her ground even as the intensity builds in the chamber. "Stand our grand! Remember why we are here, the lives and worlds we have come to protect, and the lives that sacrificed so we could do so! Ifrit's embers shall drown in the tides of honor!" She doesn't have magical buffs so she's sticking to doing her best to bolster spirits and keep her allies from faulting on that side of matters. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     For not being a hero, as he always claims, Dorian seems remarkably angered by the loss of innocent lives. Then again he IS going for revenge now, and that's hardly a heroic thing to do. Which is made clear by how, rather than going directly for the Aetheryte, he aims a glyph underneath the feet of whatever lizardmen he's managed to trap with his Static Cage. "Here's your bloody 'eternal flames'," he hisses. A chanted phrase and a sudden upward thrust of his free hand, and the area he hopes the lizardmen are still standing in explodes with fire.     Then suddenly... everything changes. He has no idea what's going on, thanks to focusing his ire on the lizardmen. This is going to be a problem. The sensation of teleporting is one that kind of freaks him out -- that's not a common magic in Thedas. He's only been teleported a couple of times, and those have been technology-based. This... is something completely different.     He takes in the scene quickly, though. To Raha he asks, his voice a bit rushed, "If we kill this lot, will it stop whatever THAT is?" He looks to the spark in the center of the room as he speaks. He's not waiting for an answer, though. Particularly not with Celes's comment. His first priority is not attack though. It's defending the allies. So he throws out another round of Barriers. He takes time to pace his mana expenditure though, since the danger isn't upon them JUST yet. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:''' One minute he's running for a crystal. The next... *Poof.*     If Tellus had stories of Hell, this would probably be pretty close. Will emerges from the teleportation looking a little worse for wear, a little dizzier than he was a minute ago. "Uuugh," he groans, squinting against the oppressive heat that seems to be trying to cook him from every direction. Even the strange black armor he's wearing under his adventurin' duds is barely doing anything to keep him from feeling like he's been stuck in an oven. Is this aetheric pressure? Or is it just that they appear to have been transported to a sacrificial altar at the heart of a volcano.     "Why's it seem like we're always on the backfoot with this stuff?" Will groans, the Solano's light shining defiantly against the crackling flames. "Looks like we've got incoming, y'all. If there's anything you can do to protect us from SPECIFICALLY FIRE, now would be a real good time!" 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' Well so much for her plan. Rebound lands hard after she attempts to land on her target. She grunts in annoyance and slams a fist into the ground, "Damnit. Where are we?" She asks, as she looks around, trying to figure out where they wound up..Or how they wound up here. She gets back to her feet, "What is that?" She asks, as she looks at the glow that's starting to build nearby. She steps back, sliding her feet into a combat position, just in case whatever that attacks. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     THE BOWL OF EMBERS     Deep in the depths of the Bowl, shit's going down. Even as the party and the Flames prepare for battle, that spark lifts into the air, a dark orb of hatred and fire billowing open as the ember flashes over....     And /erupts/ into a billowing gout of fire that resolves into a massive, horned, four-legged sinewy... creature. Demonic looking, flickering with heat and already snarling. <SUBJECTS! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS? WHO ARE THESE MORTALS?> The words force themselves into the minds of those present, Ifrit's howling incomprehensible otherwise.     An Amaal'ja priest steps up. "My Lord, these mortals sought to stop Your rule over Eorzea! These fools thought they could stand to the God of the Inferno!"     The party is buffing up, and trying to make sense of things right now... But not N'raha. The Warrior's red armor glistens from the barriers and the protects and all of the aether that's floating around this room. /He's/ charging to murder that Flame who's laughing and jeering, axe dragging against the floor of the chamber. It makes him a very visible, very likely target for Ifrit, though, who howls, and blasts the region with the Flames with a gout of Tempering fire. The screams of the hyurs in the forces ends swiftly enough... and as the fire fades, N'raha has his axe buried in the chest of the likely traitor, pulling the bloody blade out as he turns his attention to Ifrit and the party. There's a flicker of recognition in the eyes of the Primal, who lowers Himself to receive Raha. <YOU. YOU STINK OF HYDAELYN AND HER MEDDLING. THE PARAGONS WARNED ME OF YOU. DO YOU THINK YOURSELF WORTHY TO FACE ME? YOU AND YOUR PITIFUL COMPANIONS?> The primal wheels to look at the party, breath foul with sulfur and fire, and rears back to let loose a gout of flame at them in particular.     That's when there's a flash of Aether, and Raha /shoulder tackles/ Ifrit right in the goddamn snout. Oh it's on now. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' "We do not think." Athela lets that half of the response hang in the air for a moment as she grips her blade in both hands. Raha deals with the traitor, good. Of course this also draws Ifrit's wrath upon them, with which comes a great spewing of sulfuric smoke and flame. But at the same time her Samurott steps in, swinging both of his elemental swords down as one, which in turn flings a wave of water into the rushing spew of flames. It's clearly not going to cancel out the fire of something as powerful as Ifrit, as tongues of fire lick against his armored form even in doing so, but if he can power through to still hit the Primal with his own elemental force and keep fire from spilling all over their allies, so be it. "We -know- it," Athela finally finishes, voice resolute with faith their heroic party can pull through this. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     Yep, that's... Ifrit alright. He's a bit larger than she remembers (actually, probably quite a lot larger), and not quite the same-looking, but he sounds close enough. Bit on the haughty and evil side though.     The initial round of buffs is handled between the multiple barriers and Haste, so Celes readies her sword, just in time for Raha to stick it up to the man. If nothing else the former general would have to admit he's brave. It's better to take action like he did than taunt the beast with heroic speeches, too. Then again she was never really one for them. Her answer to Kefka's taunts was to stab him in the gut. Too bad he didn't die, that'd have saved them a lot of hassle down the road.     Celes rushes in, braving the flames of Ifrit as her sword takes on a frosty, icy sheen, the air around it cooling down rapidly. She swings, the moment she enters melee range, the blade launching several blasts of ice whether it impacts or misses, focusing an ice spell into a strike meant for one of the Primal's legs. A beast that large is inconvenient to always hit on the head, so crippling its balance will go a long way.     At least she's stopping frowning. She looks... conflicted, actually? Like she doesn't really want to fight Ifrit. It's complicated. At least Terra isn't here. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     The mental voice of the Primal is enough to break Dorian's concentration, and he winces, doubling over a bit. That's... really not pleasant. Being open to the Fade for his magic makes these sorts of things affect him more strongly. Hopefully Dorian will be able to pull himself together so he can concentrate. Because those flames are extremely powerful.     The skin on his exposed arm blisters as his Barrier goes down pretty much immediately upon exposure to the flames. It gives Dorian barely enough time to get out of the biggest confluence of them. He's still going to feel it, though! He doesn't have a lot of experience with Winter school magic. Certainly not as much as he has in Inferno and Storm school. But that's why he brought this staff. It's an ice staff, so he can cheat! He doesn't bother answering those words. He knows it won't do any good. No, he just attacks. A blue-white glyph appears before him, and as he spreads his arms out to his sides, several icy blasts fly out of the glyph, aimed at Ifrit. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:''' Well.     That sure is a horrible magma goat chameleon thing. Will is briefly reminded of some kind of souped up version of Boston's Deathclaws, but with fire instead of radiation and possessing the capability for speech. Still approximately as much contempt for everything that might possibly qualify as food. And N'raha's charging ahead to cut someone in half and, presumably, to wrestle the giant fire-lizard for dominance. Will frowns. Especially when Ifrit starts /spewing fire/ all over them.     Will yelps and ducks to the side. He dips, tucks and rolls, just barely slipping out from the periphery of the Primal's burning cone. Part of his coat is on fire, and it looks like he's definitely got a few burns here and there, but it's not enough to put him down. It'd be disappointing if it was!     "I uh. I actually think quite a bit! I just don't think y'all are exactly in the position to be pickin' worthiness here." Will begins strafing to the side while the various tanks and face-punchers take Ifrit head-on. "I mean, it's not like you get to pick who's going to kick your behind back to the furnace y'all crawled out from under. That's kind of our job to decide."     Will takes aim at one of Ifrit's legs and starts firing. Over and over, the Solano discharges bolts of inexplicably heavy light. It's as if it's firing pulses of pure kinetic energy-- but a physicist might be able to figure out that it's ACTUALLY launching some kind of extremely dense force field. In any case, it's super science, it hurts on impact, and more importantly, it transforms approximately zero of its own energy into heat. This is pure force, and Will is circle strafing with it. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' Now that's the kind of tactics Rebound can get behind. When Raha goes to town on the demon like monster, "Well that's one way to do it!" She calls out, cheering him on, before she jumps up. She dives down from midair, trying to land on top of Ifrit's head, to slam one of her gauntleted hands down onto his skull. She intends to crack him hard with a full force strike, and then jump off. She has no intention to stand still and let him hit her. She's just going to keep diving in, striking when he's distracted, and then running. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     THE BOWL OF EMBERS     Let's get down to business, huh? This is a pretty mismatched party, to be sure, but it's not one that's lacking in firepower or backing. Even more so as the Crystal-Bearer stands right in the goddamn way of Ifrit, Raha's axe flashing and parrying and harrying and making sure he's not trying to simply bowl past the catman on His way to the others. Which makes everyone else's jobs easier, so long as the damage doesn't finish Raha off.     Even more so as the alter-elemental attacks start to land. The water slice and the Blizzaga in particular slash and crash into the Primal, staggering Him from a potential downswing that could have reached the rest of the party. And then everyone's laying into him. Ice blasts from Dorian stagger him several times, and more energy blasts from William targeting those legs.     And then there's a Pugilist in the mix, beating on the Primal with fists and combos, Rebound's hands striking true and fast.     Ifrit is not pleased with this. At all. Not even a little. The Primal howls, and /slams/ both fists into the dirt near N'raha, a massive wave of fire slashing out at everyone involved here, before howling something incomprehensible. tOne, then two massive flaming nails crash into the arena near Celes and Dorian, and start emitting very ominous aetheric fire energies. Bombs? Totems? Something? They're not good, whatever they are. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:'''     ... It is never a good sign when the enemy starts dropping random strange things on the field. "Lancer, break off!" Though the call isn't quite fast enough and even as he's pushing himself away from Ifrit some of the slashes of flame slam against the Samurott's body. It's a mixed bag, Water resists Fire but Steel is weak to it, so he's still getting hit fairly hard by the neutral damage. On the other hand, it's like hitting a tank with a flamethrower, and even if you're damaging it that's not enough on its own to stop it. Giant flaming stone nails filled with magic energy. Almost too bad she doesn't have Mizzen with to smash them to bits. Hopefully the Raha can keep Ifrit occupied for a moment while they deal with this new thing they can't risk just leaving sitting around. Something as powerful as Ifrit wouldn't be summoning things if they didn't do something. But as she had not been directly engaging Ifrit herself since her Pokemon was, Athela's got an oppritunity to charge directly towards one of the two spires almost as soon as they hit the ground. Resolute Blade, shimmering with the divine might of Keldeo, slashes at the Nail several times. Then she steps out of the way as her Samurott catchs up, so he can Heavy Slam directly into the thing with the entire force of his armored body. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     Fire splashes everywhere. It's kind of predictable, all things considered. Protect, Shell, and Dorian's own barrier. That's a lot! Then there's Celes' Minerva Bustier, that thing was pretty much made to fight Espers, much like her. The flames might hurt her, but it's going to be really hard to set the general on fire.     That's good because her cape would be a nighmare otherwise.     Celes plows through the incoming flames head first, allowing the heat to make her uncomfortable and lightly singe her skin as she pushes for one of the nails. These things look tough, and they're full of magic. Odds are they're going to need a hell of a strike to break one.     White light floods her sword, and she strikes at the closest nail. It probably won't much care for the fact it's holy-elemental damage in the slightest, but the fact the strike comes with Dispel might be another story. Here's to trying to break it with that, or if it fails, weaken it for the next person to hit it. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:'''     Ifrit is not happy. Ifrit sets the entire battlefield on fire. Or rather, on more fire. There was fire already, now there is even more fire. The fire itself is on fire. Will is also on fire, having only the ability to dodge-roll and a set of thermally resistant armor to keep himself from burning to a crisp. The Chaser's duds burn without much hope for being put out aside from killing Ifrit before they- and the guy wearing them- end up nothing more than a carbon stain on the ass-end of history. Will's about to fire even more bullets at the giant fire monster when suddenly a pair of enormous nails-- they are definitely nails-- slam into the ground and start giving off some really bad vibes.     Will pauses for just long enough to stare in disbelief before his brain makes a few very important connections. One: These are giant ominous nails. Two: Nails exist to be hammered into something. Three: The only hammer here big enough is Ifrit. Four: Letting Ifrit hammer the nails is probably a bad idea. And so he comes to a decision. "I'mma shoot 'em."     Will switches targets with the fluid grace of a practice gunslinger. Time to put that thing he picked up in the swamp to good use. The Solano's barrel begins to emit a high-pitched whine, its light building to double, then triple its normal intensity. When Will pulls the trigger, he doesn't just fire a bolt. He fires a globe of pure kinetic energy approximately the size of a beachball. Maybe Ifrit is the only hammer here that's big enough. But when the best tool you've got is a gun, all your problems start looking like targets. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Now... Dorian's no typical squishy wizard, but his emphasis IS on magic. He definitely doesn't have the physical constitution of someone who has devoted their lives to the physical fighting arts. So that wave of fire from the slamming fists of the Primal just bowls him right over. And it's only the grace of the Maker and a timely application of Fade Step that keeps one of those flaming nails from ending him permanently.     Dorian might have been accused of some degree of genre-savvyness if there were fourth-wall-breakers here. Either way, though, he knows those things are bad news. And there's only one thing he can think to do. It's going to hurt like anything, but he's got no choice.     He aims at the nearest flaming nail to him -- well, not AT it specifically; more like between himself and the flaming nail. He makes a horizontal sweep of his hands out to his sides at about shoulder level, and then with a chanted phrase, raises his hands. He winces as the mana flows into the spell... and he tries to raise a wall of ice between himself and that flaming nail. Should also cause some ice damage to the nail too.     And then he promptly stumbles. Ouch. Using magics too powerful for him again. Well, it's less that it's too powerful and more that he just doesn't quite have the experience to minimize the mana expenditure that requires. Regardless, he's kind of not going to be much help for a short while yet. He needs to get his bearings again. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     The room starts to build with aether as Raha keeps decking Ifrit with his fists and body, his axe flashing over with magic as he strikes out and keeps Ifrit's attention. There's a moment though, as the Primal growls deep and low. <You know you CANNOT defeat Me, tainted one. There is no way to be rid of me forever.> Is the Primal smiling? Maybe a little, as he keeps building energy. Raha's face is resolute though, and he offers no witty repartie in return.     Those Nails are having a bad time of it, though. Athela and Celes both smash through one of the spires with a series of attacks, that Dispel really doing a number on the Aetheric creations. The first one is shattered with an explosion of fire, knocking the Knight and the General backwards from their attacks. The second one comes under fire from Dorian and William, the ranged attacks doing an equally effective job in blasting the totem to bits.     There's a glare in the eyes of the Primal, who... missed the attacks on those Nails. Something dark and angry overcomes Ifrit, angrier than usual, actually. He bellows, and lashes out at the group with a mildly restrained blast of Hellfire, the burst not enough to kill them, but it might have, somehow. Hooray Mechanics?     The aether in the room is draining slowly as those attacks continue. Ifrit /does/ need energy to stay in one piece, doesn't he? The Primal snarls very unhappily, though and wheels around to bodily grab Raha and slam him face first into the ground. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     It's instinct alone that lets Celes feel what Ifrit is about to do. She's seen it before after all-- has USED it before, though Magicite is long since not a thing anymore. Terra can cheat, but the general herself has stayed away from making any pacts or contracts with the Espers when things resolved. She didn't feel she had a right to it.     That is entirely besides the point though.     "RUNIC!"     Save the Queen is held high, and like a great vacuum starts siphoning the magic out of the air as Ifrit launches his Hellfire. She isn't sure if she can contain the entire blast, it may well be the Primal's too strong, but if she can mitigate the damage that much more against the group she'll draw it all onto herself, or at least as much as possible.     This might not be a good idea given how Runic felt against the Amalj'aa's magic, but it's not like it hurt her or anything, so she'll take that chance. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Have you ever dumped a pan of hot grease on your hand?     Now imagine hot greasy awful primal magic, inside Celes, as she shunts off a cone of that Hellfire from near the party. It's like that. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore's armored boots skid against the hot stone floor of the cavern as she's shoved by the backblast of the Nail detonating as she forces herself to not loose her footing. Doesn't keep her tabard and cloak from flapping about wildly in the pressure of the shockwave though. Lancer doesn't fair quite so well, being bowled over on his side due to being near the center of the explosion because he had bodychecked the thing. With a grunt she turns back to the main act of the fight, only for Ifrit to unleash more flames of Hell upon them... Though these seem a bit less hellacious than before. Was Ifrit losing his energy? What was it the Flames had said about Primal's requiring that aether energy to stay anchored here... ... So if Ifrit burns through his own energy... "That's it! Keep him expending his aether!" Athela braces herself and darts into the Hellfire, mentally gritting herself to ignore the unholy heat trying to burn through her armor. Swirls of water ripple around Resolute Blade as she charges in and leaps, heaving her divine weapon overhead as the Tide Caller channels through it, and swinging it into a powerful overhead slice that surges with water to bring the blow crashing down with all the force of a roaring Waterfall! Keep constant pressure on him, force him to use his aether to attack and defend, and Ifrit will hopefully burn himself out and lose his connection with this plane, just like a fire eventually expends all it's fuel. That's the tactic she's going with now. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Dorian is still recovering from that overexpenditure, and doesn't have the mana to raise a Barrier when that blast of Hellfire happens. He's knocked over again, and he gives a grunt as he falls this time. And he doesn't immediately get up. Though no, he's still not down for the count. But he's still not able to cast any magic. But since there's really no 'safe' place to retreat to... Dorian does the opposite.     He advances. With his magic still on the fritz, he only has physical attacks to depend on. He's not going to let Raha's sacrifice of his face be meaningless though. While Ifrit's lifting Raha, Dorian goes in for a few hard smacks of that ice staff against Ifrit's side. He's been trained to fight with that staff as a bludgeoning weapon, too. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:''' The kangaroo mutant does not like being lit on fire. That feels very unpleasant. By which it means she's on the ground after the fire burst. But she's not dead, thankfully. She isn't moving very well either, though. Once the fire clears, she pushes herself back to her feet, glaring at the big boss demon, "Okay, now I'm pissed you stupid.." She brushes some of the charred fur off of herself. She's going to smell like burnt hair for a week. She slams her fists together, the gauntlets flashing green, and she pushes off again, diving towards Ifrit with all the power she can muster, aiming to slam those fists both into him in a downward motion, to bring them down onto his head, and then slam him several times in a row. She's not going to stop swinging until he comes for her directly. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:'''     It turns out that this place is far more literally hell than metaphorically. The black-red energy washes out from the primal, menacing with the kind of heat that exists specifically to punish the wicked and burn souls clean of sin. The Gunner's eyes go terribly wide as pure elemental fire sweeps out and threatens to turn him into so much charcoal. It's a little known fact that humans are indeed flammable, and this much heat would be more than sufficient-- But then Celes raises her sword, and carves a safe haven in the flames.     Will clicks his tongue against his teeth and ducks behind the mystic swordswoman. Certainly, it isn't the bravest thing he's ever done, but to let the opportunity go to waste... Well, Celes is protecting them. It'd be wrong to get burnt to a crisp when she's doing that.     Will takes aim from the relative safety of Celes' runic umbrella. Without Ifrit's magic to harass him, he can really aim for the tender bits. The Solano fires shot after shot, unleashing a veritable barrage or kinetic blasts downrange at the rampant Primal, aiming at his eyes, his open mouth, anything that might present a soft target. "Well pardner," Will says as he takes his shots, "If you come back, we'll just put you back in the ground. As many times as it'll take. We'll keep coming, until it sticks!" 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     ...This has been an exceptionally poor day for Ifrit. True, he's getting to pound a Warrior of Light in the goddamn head and beat the snot out of him, but the creature will NOT GO DOWN and even now is slashing at His arm with an axe. Compound that with creatures beating him in the face and head, and other regions with magic and punches and STICKS ICE STICKS WHY? THEY ARE EATING HIS MAGIC. <WHAT IS THIS FOOLISHNESS. LAY DOWN AND PERISH.> More swatting flames at the group, wasing heat and fire and embers and...     Pure, unbridled rage starts to boil from Ifrit....'s hand. That axe flashes over and forces itself from the Primal's hand, as Raha bursts out of that grip, using that axe as a lever to get free. He boils with Berserker rage, barely contained and throttled behind his fine edge of self-control. "YOU ARE A LOUSY EXCUSE FOR A GOD." Okay maybe not all the way contained. That axe rises up, and comes down... and chops halfway through the arm of the Primal, a gout of flaming Aether splashing over the Catman. He doesn't seem to notice all that much. 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     Everything seems to be going well at first. Celes is doing what her powers were made to do. Screw over Espers. That's actually why she's had this weird, conflicted look on her face this entire time. These might be 'Primals' but Ifrit is still Ifrit. It's unpleasant to relive these things.     Flames are absorbed into her sword, turned into raw magic, refilling her reserves. That's about when things get really, really awful. It's the same feeling as before, but a million times worse. She screams, in pain, as the final gushes of flame dissipate into her sword and flood her. The general can't help it, her legs give in and she falls to her knees, actually dropping her sword and clutching her stomach.     What is it like, having Primal magic inside you? Awful in every possible way, for one. For two, she's lucky that Raha's presence probably shields her from Tempering. It might be the attrocious pain or the fact it was fire magic, but there's just a short moment when Celes feels the intense desire to burn it all. It doesn't last. It's probably just the pain. Lesson learned, though: don't do that again.     Without her sword and with her mind incredibly distracted by the fact her soul is on fire, the potency of her magic is greatly reduced, but she still manages to shoot a wave of healing magic towards N'raha. It's, like, Cure. Maybe Cura. Better than nothing. Best she CAN do right now, either way. 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     The flames make Dorian back off, all right, and he turns his covered arm towards the Primal as he retreats back. But it's not just the flames that make him back off. It's that he can feel his mana returning. And he needs distance to be able to aim without hitting himself or his allies. Particularly with what he's about to do, since he's stuck with Storm magic.     He stands straight as Ifrit demands they lay down and die. He finally speaks to the Primal; he sneers, "No, I'm afraid not. You see, I've never been the obedient sort. I've always been quite the shocker, to be honest."     Hey, it's not a GOOD pun, but he's fighting a migraine from overexpenditure of mana. You try to come up with a witty comeback when it feels like there's a company of dwarves mining lyrium behind your eyes! He is, however, aware of it. "...All right, that was bad. I can do better. But for now..."     And then he's about to use MORE mana. Great idea, right? At least he's using magic he's got more of an affinity with. His hands clap together in front of him, and as he does, and purple/white bolt of lightning lances down from somewhere. With luck it'll both cause its payload of damage AND at least partially paralyze the Primal for greater ease in hitting it for the others. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:'''     Will has about as much context for this kind of thing as a fish has for a mountaintop. The closest thing to a primal on Tellus is some kind of cryptic, holographic overlord and the horrible, awful scourge that he's said to oppose. But neither of them, so far as Will knows, are gods. Until Tellus opened itself to the multiverse, magic was an utterly foreign concept.     And now he's here, staring down fire incarnate with a magic knight, a berserk catman, an actual wizard, and some kind of boxing kangaroo. The world turns in mysterious ways.     Compared to them, he's really quite mundane. He's just a cowboy with a gun. An amazingly advanced, incredibly powerful gun, certainly, but a gun none-the-less. Will tips his hat down to shield his eyes from the wave of flame and cinder and heat. Celes might be able to absorb some of that magic, but the way she is right now... Well. It's not good.     "Come on buddy, open wide," Will mutters, his weapon aglow with that strange, white light. "Just need one good shot--" The Solano burns brighter with every passing moment until its barrel disappears in a halo of blinding, rippling energy. "Fire!" He pulls the trigger.     A lance of sheer force erupts from within the Ancient firearm. It produces a sound like a thundercrack, or perhaps like the sound barrier shattering like a pane of glass. Will grits his teeth as his gun actually snaps back, the shot carrying so much energy that even the usually recoilless Solano kicks like a mule. Getting hit might feel like getting hit in the face by a truck. Or a tank. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Ifrit keeps spewing weakened shots of fire, and while she's in close quarters like this Athela can't sidestep it all. Her midweight armor is definately starting to show it's wear from the prolonged fighting; and the redhead is huffing a bit. The intense heat of Ifrit and his lair does not combine well with wearing armor, even if it is not as heavy as say something the Catzerker is probably wearing. There's a little less furious rage involved, but she is every bit as determined to see this through to the end as Raha is. "Ye only call it foolishness because your god complex cannot comprehend being fought and defeated!", she snaps back at the Primal's attempts to talk them into submission. Lancer has gotten himself back upright, but he's not in very good shape to charge into the fight after tanking through the exploding Nail and several of Ifrit's attacks. He's hanging back, if only so he can jump in for his Trainer's defense if needed. But for right now, this is her fight. And fight she does. "Justice shall prevail, no matter what you throw at us!" Resolute Blade starts to glow, this time not with elemental energy, but with the sheen of divine energy. As Keldeo one struck down the spawn of the Regis in legendary wars past, in her hands the sword resembling his horn now seeks to do the same to evils threatening this world. "SACRED SWORD!", the young knight screams with all the convinction in her body as she lunges in admist the fire strikes to plunge the smiting blade into Ifrit's side. 

:'''{{#var:750|Rebound (750)}} has posed:'''     "Why won't you go down!" Rebound yells out, as she hops away from the wannna be god. She flips backwards, and lands in a three point stance. This thing is tough, way tougher than most of the stuff she fights. But she's tough enough, she's going to do her best to help finish taking him down. She moves in from the side this time, trying to strike at him with several blows from the side with those Impact Drivers. Each blow should include a flash of plasma as the weapons unleash their charge. 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Lightning has no problem penetrating the defenses of the Primal, and Dorian's lance of thunder crashes through the hide of the beast, doubling Him over onto the ground.     The sword comes around, and slashes deep as the PokeKnight makes a strike for justice and Good Taste In Religion, the side of the great beast spewing flames.     The Machinist lances out a blistering arc of fire that cracks Ifrit across the snout, bloodying His face and sending him reeling...     The Pugil-roo just Won't Stop PUNCHING HIM, flashes of fire erupting from Him as he staggers...     Raha's ears perk as that Cura slaps into him, the unnatural feeling of accelerated healing washing through him and shoving the right bits of him back into place. It's enough oomph in his step for him to bring that axe around one last time, and slice Ifrit right through his hellsdamned head.     There is a howling, rage-filled burst of spittle from Ifrit as He arches up, flexes in a last throw of pain... and then dissipates into residual Aether, the wash of angry red energy flickering away like so many motes of light. 

:'''{{#var:994|Athela Valemore (994)}} has posed:''' Athela Valemore takes a few strained breaths, still hunched partway in a battle stance, still gripping her sword tightly. She doesn't trust this to be over until the last motes of Ifrit are truely fading away. Only when that's assured does she push herself upright, and Lancer scoots in to give her a solid (abiet equally battered) form to lean against. "Good job, valiant steed." Though she still frowns a little. If this fight is anything like what facing one of the Regis would be.... She has a long way to go in her own story before she'll be ready. But that's worry for another time. She gives Resolute Blade a firm shake to dislodge any lingering Ifrit viscera before turning the weapon and resheathing it at her side. "And a job well done to the rest of ye as well." 

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''     Dorian holds strong as the Primal roars in rage. In fact he tenses, expecting another horrible attack. And he's not sure he can raise Barrier for this one either. Mana overuse doesn't 'just go away' in a few moments, like an ice cream headache. And he can't take much more of what this beast is dishing out, either. So he faces a choice -- try for another Barrier and risk fainting from overuse and possibly having to wrestle a demon for control of his mind, or just tank whatever fire comes his way and probably take more damage than he can handle.     Thankfully the Primal offers a third choice. It dies. Apparently, anyway. Dorian sighs, his shoulders slumping in relief as the Primal's energies disperse. "''Fasta vass''," he swears under his breath, though the sound is more of relief, as in 'holy crap I'm glad that's over'.     As the Primal fully disperses, he leans heavily on his staff. His exposed arm is blistered pretty bad, pretty much every bit of exposed skin (which is just his arm and his face) is reddened from the intense heat of the flames, and his hair and moustache are singed. His armor's scorched too. Which might have been partially why he wore black -- who can tell from a distance that it's scorched?     Athela's words get a weary smirk. "We're alive, for now. '''It''' isn't. Definitely two points for us." His voice has that taut sound that someone with a massive headache has. Not hurting enough not to snark, though. "Though when dealing with a world that goes 'Think fast!' and then bam -- evil god thrown directly at the face, I'd have taken the former on its own, truthfully." 

:'''{{#var:1081|Celes Chere (1081)}} has posed:'''     It will take Celes a few more moments to finally get back on her feet, and another to find and pick up her sword. At least Ifrit isn't going to be a problem anymore, but-- they've been transported, when this started. Where ARE they? They're going to have to find their way out. The Amalj'aa still have their Aetheryte, too. They can just resummon Ifrit eventually, can't they?     She grunts and groans, clearly having seen better days. She's not physically hurt, at least, but her insides still feel like they're boiling. "Don't-- don't assume we're done yet. We don't know that there was just the one traitor, and the only person we could ask is..." Well, N'raha sure did a good job axing him a question there, so the group won't be able to. "We're also... where ARE we? How do we get back out? And that Aetheryte still needs..." She almost trips forward, clutching her stomach with one hand as she winces. Really, she is in NO state to be worrying about the five things they still need to worry about.     "Five minutes of rest and praise can't hurt, though... heh..." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Raha... Is taking a nap, it would seem. Thankfully it is not a dirt nap.     Though whatever's going on, there's a lt of eye movement going on behind his closed lids. And as he lies on his back, one hand clutches his axe... the other is wrapped around a large crystal, about the size of the Magicite that Celes would be used to. The crystal is a glowing, crimson red prism. The Catman will not part with it. 

:'''{{#var:934|William Pauwel (934)}} has posed:'''     "That--" Will points over at Celes. "Is a REAL good question. I'm glad that we were able to put Ifrit down and all, but there's still a small army of lizards between us and the outside, nevermind gettin' out of wherever THIS is, first." He frowns as Celes stumbles, shifting over to help steady her. "Hey. Y'all okay? You can use me as a crutch if y'all like." Despite his scrawny build, all the adventuring he's done seems to have given Will quite a bit of strength of his own, it seems. "Payback for the incident in the swamp. And for usin' you as cover earlier. Heh." At the very least, the air feels... lighter, with Ifrit's passage back into the aether. Will frowns over at N'raha, too. "...Man. I don't think I can carry two of y'all out of here. His axe is kind of huge." 

:'''{{#var:819|N'Raha (819)}} has posed:'''     Thankfully... teleportation magics aren't going to prevent exiting this place. Any attempts to land in the right spot on the way out /will/ succeed. 
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