Taima's Story

Kazura face wavered in many faucets of the crystal by which Taima observed the events happening upon Terra. All around her other faces could be seen in the reflective surfaces of countless crystals - faces of those whom she had taken an interest in, faces of her champions, and even the face of Messor as he confronted Hatchet within the streets of Wing City.

It was with passive stoicism that she watched it all.

Lately she had come to find herself here for many hours a day, observing, and calculating... but would it be enough to sway coming events? Would her efforts change anything?

Would Messor give over to the carnal pleasures of the hunt, would Maria lose herself to the beast, would the Patronus fall beneath the trials ahead? Only time would tell. For now her attention was focused on this new arrival.

Kazura's presence on Terra had oft been a matter of some dispute among the pantheon, but in times past no consensus could ever be reached. His decision to lay low in recent times had allowed him to slide beneath their scrutiny, but a whisper of a warning had followed upon his heels this time.

While Taima observed Kazura laying waste to the city at his feet, the distant whisper of voices filled her head. Many had gathered to discuss Kazura's fate, and though Taima held no seat in the matter being discussed, she was permitted to observe for if they decided to act it would be she who brought their message to Kazura - whether by word, or by sword.

There was a restlessness at hand though, for these debates could carry on for days, if not weeks. Kazura was a herald of destruction who would only gain momentum the longer he went unchecked.

A brief crack split across the face of the crystal fracturing the image of Kazura. The order had not come down from the pantheon though, but rather from another.

"It will be as you instruct," Taima spoke with a tone of reverence.

---

Overhead the storm churned violently as the force that was Kazura brought unrest and discord to the realms, but there was a new presence that swept across those crimson skies. A crack of thunder shook the air and arcs of lightning split through the crimson mantle before with a deafening clap a bolt struck the building at Kazura's back.

The stench of sulfur filled the air and a looming figure was left kneeling in the wake of the lightning bolt with her halberd embedded deep into the rocky ruins of the crumbled building upon which Kazura stood.

Rising to her feet she jerked the weapon free.

Though humanoid in form, her features were unmistakably draconic in nature, and her face was the visage of a dragon snout complete with a mouthful of vicious looking fangs and bony protrusions. In place of skin she had scales, crimson red.

When she and Kazura had last met, it had been as an aging mortal past her prime. Standing there now as a creature of divinity, no such ailments lingered upon her form. She had the look of a warrior, and of a champion. Every inch, ever fiber of sinew and muscle was toned and hardened for battle.

"I, Taima, herald of Ahuma, patron deity of the draconian people, do bear message to one Kazura." Her voice was rough and gravely, but it held the rumbling weight of the distant mountains within its reverberating tone. It was the voice of conviction.

"Depart this realm, or face retribution," she growled.

Her gauntlet encased hand tightened its grip about the haft of her weapon - not for a moment entertaining the thought that Kazura would simply comply and depart.

His words abruptly fell short as the atmospheric change registered throughout his body. His very senses tingled as if stung by a rampant swarm of insects. The warbling, bass ridden, cacophony overhead rumbled with vigor and intensity, but even that was stemmed by the more powerful sounds heralding from behind the curtained veil of malevolence that loomed over head. Furrowing his brows, he could already foresee something had been watching. He'd caught someones attention. Maleficus? No. Such an act was beneath the demented Deity. Then who? Another immortal who'd been keeping tabs on him since his arrival? Hardly minutes upon being in this realm, and nuisances were already sprouting forth like vermin in an infested hell hole. As his eyes caught the arcing luminescence that split the air above, forcefully gouging a hole into the crimson taint hovering above, his body slowly spun just as the bolt struck the building but paces away from him. Dimmed lids searched the haze that had sprung up from such an act and as it cleared, Kazura's eyes bore witness to a figure long since forgotten since days old in this festering cesspool considered a realm of realms.

Many would find intimidation from such a being; a creature as ghastly and, furthermore, an eyesore. His mind didn't fail him, though, and he remembered their last encounter. This thing, and that wench. It was a deciding factor in his understanding of this realm, and it's supposed 'champions'. From whence he came from; he was penultimate, equal to few, and beneath even less. Here, though, all logic was tossed aside. Mortals, and immortals, alike standing alongside one another. Beings of vast power merely a fingers reach away. Maleficus was the second to bring such resounding realization to him. Toppling the Titan had not been an easy task, but having accomplished it proved to be an ill upset; a being of limitless power put to its knee's by a creature who held limits, but had limitless spite. Apathy had not been that Deities friend that eve. Such realizations brought him to an understanding of keeping wary. And as the years continued to churn forth, so did Kazura seemingly evolve. Numbers meant something here, and he surely wasn't the only villain to walk the plains of this realm. Like minded individuals would prove as tools, and assets, alike.

Far from intimidated, though, he remained as he had previously, dimmed lids widening once again to cast a vehement glare of disdain her way. Her savage visage left him offering a simple sneer, though it was easily hidden beneath the cowl that covered a portion of his face. Had she just issued him an ultimatum? The audacity to insult his magnificence, and threaten him with petty words that bore no true weight upon him was certainly something she'd understand, if she were smart. She was different, though, in some fashion. He could very well sense the suffocating pressure that lingered against his senses. Whatever the case, though, he'd certainly find entertainment from this.

"Retribution?" Came the harsh, venom laced, whisper from beneath the hood that clung to his head. The fabric, draped over his face, barely shielded his eyes from sight, leaving his upper face in shade. For a brief moment, his eyes pulsed a malevolent vermilion as a cackle left him. "If entities on high within my own realms cannot dissuade me, nor stop me...what makes you believe you can, Dragon?" He spat in return, unfurling his arms to either side of his thin, yet rigid, frame. Slowly ascending from the place he stood, inches above the surface, he summoned, once more, his vast reserves of power. Tempest winds yet again kicked up dust and debris as the lingering storm above thundered out, groaning in disdain at the disturbance within its presence. Soon thereafter, a sudden static filled the air around his very form; a thick miasma like energy oozing from his very presence as if he were an infectious plague; creeping death to sweep the lands.

"You, of all beings, should know what is bound to befall you..." He taunted, his devilish tone dripping with hellish spite. Of all the times such a thing could come about, this was, perhaps, the worst moment. He had old associates to get in touch with and a machination to continue with. This was yet another thorn in his side. Had the Deities of his own realm managed to get word across the veil of time and space? He'd be sure to cut them all down upon his return, meddlesome cretins. Furthermore; she had to be in league with someone who held knowledge. Someone who'd been watching. How else would she recognize him amid his concealing attire. There was a reason he stuck to a vague disguise. Those who knew him feared him. And those who didn't fear him sought him out. It was far more simple to dawn a fallacious appearance and go about his motives rather than fighting the tide of those wishing him harm, or those fleeing from the simple sight of him.

Upon the moment he achieved the necessary amplified power he'd been seeking, his lids rose, eyes wide, as he took sight of the Dragon warrior before him. It was time. No vast amount of words would suffice, this time. No petty speeches. No ill-willed threats, or promises. Instead, his fists, and other utensils, would serve as his voice. Judgmental, ruthless, and without mercy. The executioner of all who lived without fear.

Taima stood stoic and calm within the heart of the tempest winds that gusted around her and Kazura, and where his energy signature was a sickening miasma of corruption, Taima's was a steadfast beacon of strength and nobility. Where his was noxious, hers was pure and unmarred. Where his was a creeping infection, hers was an immovable mountain barring its path. She would not bow to this storm, as she had not bowed to the ones that came before it.

"Ka'ara thera kin," she growled deeply in an ancient draconic tongue.

Kazura would feel it in the air, a rising hurricane to meet his own tempest storm; but where his oozed and writhed as it permeated from his very form, Taima's rose up from rest as if it were a great beast from the depths of the ocean that would set the waters churning and frothing. Kazura's power was his own to call upon, but Taima's came from another.

As she spoke, her voice had taken on an unnatural weight and it was laced with mysticism as her words wove their magic, but Kazura could not make them out any longer. Each word lingered upon his mind as fleeting as a wisp of smoke, and just as difficult to grasp. They resonated with a booming weight that would have set mortals to their knees, but the words themselves were lost to him.

One could feel their spell on the air and catch fleeting images of ancient runes that brushed the minds of those who heard the words. For one familiar with the ancient language and the archaic runescript that accompanied it, they might have picked out the dominant rune that represented the word 'guardian'. For Kazura though, the strange runes that intruded upon his thoughts would likely prove foreign and unrecognizable.

A clashing of ripe energies soon erupted as Kazura stood fast, awaiting the moment he'd have to strike out. But as the looming weight of her divine nobility pressured against his own wicked will, his dimmed lids parted further in the wake of her foreign tongue. His mind now a whir, his brows furrowed in growing irritation. What were these foreign words? And this growing power that pushed, and heaved, against his own; T'ch, he'd have none of this. The swirling miasma that lingered around him, festering off of his very form and spilling into the air around him; noxious and disorienting, sought to snuff out the power that opposed him. With a growing snarl of spite, he lashed out.



As he proceeded inbound, his very power acting to plow through her own rising gale of divine might, he felt the initial struggle. Yes. She certainly had grown in her time. This force was unlike many he'd felt before. Divine was hardly the word for it. Blessed by the Gods, it seemed. She had not lied. A being on high, now, is what he faced. And this was the very reason he sought to destabilize the realms integrity. If she had come this far in the years, who's to say she, or any other like her, could not cross over into his own realm and thwart his malevolent machination. He'd have nothing of it. Rain down fire and ignite the planets until they are naught but smoldering brimstone. He'd fought self-appointed Gods, and immortals, alike. Maleficus had been one. She'd be yet another statistic smote under his devilish wrath.

His dash slowed in the onslaught of her power, he continued to strain and fight against it, slowing almost to a crawl as he fell to a solid stance, fending off the fierce hurricane force gales pelted at him. And as he stood there against it, so did the sudden intrusion of a voice beckoning and taunting him within his own mind. As the pulsing thrums of each word struck at the chords of his sanity his mind fell back to some time prior; the words of that meek, minuscule, little imp having done much the same. But this being was of divinity. And as such, this had to be some tactical arcane work. Something that would not bode well for a such a vile being of his caliber. Babidi had cursed him. He'd sought for control of the monolithic Titan, and he'd been denied in every facet. As the continuance of such an event pushed him further, his mind fractured in a moment of near desperation. He'd not be controlled. And he'd not deal with this insidious arcane plot she'd begun to weave. He was Kazura. He was death. He was fear. He would not submit to such petty divine forces.



As if Mjölnir striking vibranium; Kazura's power was unleashed ten fold to disrupt and effectively dispel her growing energy influence. Eyes oozing vermilion caught sight of her own, and in a hellish act, his body lurched forward with all the intentions of a rabid, feral, beast. Each stride, evenly paced, brought him all the more swifter toward her being before, with the force of a dying sun, he thrust out with a palmed hand to silence her mouth. And as such, his palm with the intentions of striking true, should come to pass would his figure smolder and flicker into a sea of black flames; vanished. Far more in sync with his myriad assortment of capabilities, Yoki and its fiendish transportation methods proved almost more tactical than a typical Saiyan's instantaneous motion. Appearing from a blackened pool of Yoki flames from behind, his leg would rise to extend; draped in those same flickering black flames to drive into her spine and send her reeling forth with even more power than the original palm blow delivered prior.

All the while such heinous acts of treachery continued to float around his fractured intellect, his own power continued to boast its own claims, pushing and fighting, striving to defend. Calling upon his Saiyan heritage once again, his frame would vault off of the surface of the building with no restraint, the force of his gravitational ascension bringing ruin to the immediate location; shattered and crumbled the upper portion of the buildings structural integrity would wane, ebbed away by the power that was this vile might. Whilst lingering within the heavens, Kazura's hand fell away, digits carefully rifling underneath the obsidian cloak that clung to his lithe frame. Securing the item, he'd brandish it with ill-will; bloody eminence trickling forth from the malevolently designed steel forged of a divinity long since forgotten. Within the next hand, flickering black flames wove forth into manifestation, yet another device of malicious origins brought to life. Onikussaiga and Apocalyptica.

Kazura was mistaken in who was the target of Taima's growling incantations and as he struck against her, the power within her words was unleashed not against him but rather in protection of herself. A great dragon's maw - silver and ethereal in nature - manifested around the draconian and it lunged forward to intercept Kazura's palm and the flare of power that rend and tore at the threads of her spell.

His hand collided with its snout, and though it lacked physical form it stayed him all the same. The collision of power was titanic and both wavered as the proverbial unstoppable force struck immovable object.

It was uncertain which would have won out in the end, as Taima lunged forward with a powerful stroke of her wings. Kazura was momentarily stayed by the visage of the dragon, but it swiftly dissipated as Taima erupted forth from its maw with her halberd sweeping a wide blow for his exposed abdomen. Tendrils of light and arcs of electricity trailed in its wake but Kazura vanished as she closed the distance.

Behind you.

She furled one wing, rolling in place to face Kazura while her momentum carried her on her path which drew her away from him. Once again she swept her halberd across as she twisted in air, but this time it was her own momentum that landed her swing short and both his kick and her halberd missed their marks.

She didn't relent though and as Kazura rose into the air, Tiama gave him little room for pause. The force of her ascent after him fractured the stone beneath her and her wings created gale blasts that sent cracked pillars crumbling to the ground to join the rubble of the destroyed buildings that Kazura had brought down.

She turned to his own game and vanished from view as she closed in on him, but rather than appear behind him as he might have expected, she chose to appear above. Within her maw a focused blast of energy grew charged with a mixture of fire, electricity, and an edge of raw kinetic force.

It was unleashed downwards as a hammer upon an anvil, set to drive Kazura back down to the ground below under the titanic blow.

The cataclysm that erupted upon the collision of both forces was mammoth; the very rippling distortion of force reverberating throughout the heavens. The ground quaked in its might. The atmosphere unleashing the cracking strike that it held. The dragon, though an interesting match for his palm, didn't halt his progress upon the moment of his vanishing. Though he expected otherwise, he was pleased to realize that such words had ceased within his head as he took up position behind her. But as his leg rose to strike at her, he was infuriated to realize that he'd barely brushed past her; as had she brushed past him narrowly striking him in the process.

His ascent left him heaven bound, both weapons of destruction called forth to act upon the malevolence their owner instilled upon the world. This was already becoming far more tedious than it needed to be, and his patience had begun to wane. Sanity all but steadfast in this monstrosities mind, his ideology of the coming tactics was far severed from the realm of belief. Countless ploys and machinations began to flicker about in his head, as if a deck of cards flipped through by a dealer. The ace? The king? Perhaps the wild? It was as such tactics brought to his mind that his arms opened outward, one hand clutched around Onikussaiga, the other around the shaft of Apocalyptica, that his eyes deceived him. She was no longer inbound? What sort of trickery was this? His own ploy used against him.

It was in that faint moment he turned to envision the force of light rain down punishment upon him. Narrowing his eyes, his body caught by the very blast she'd spewed forth, he continued to offer his unsettling glare throughout his entire decent. Apathy written across his features, even in the wake of his chewed up attire fluttering within the air as he careened earthbound, never alluded to the coming possibilities. And as he clattered through the final remnants of that buildings horrendously tortured rooftop, a resounding cacophony exuded in all directions as he was pushed through floor after floor. Torrents of dust and debris vomited outward from nooks, crannies, shattered windows, and broken segments of the very building as he made landfall. Eyes still glued upward, though, kept trained on the immortal dragon wench as he remained stagnant and motionless.

Moments passed before his eyes lowered to the protruding beam that had managed to wedge its way through his body; entering mere inches away from his spine and wrenching through his rib cage a good six inches. Normally, this wouldn't pose much of a situation. But in this event, it infuriated him. A mockery these days? Is that all he could amount to? Had he truly become so soft and over confident in his prowess he'd forgotten the lull of battle this realm whispered to all? That mythical call to arms that was far more potent than what he was accustomed to? This wouldn't do. Playing around would get him no where. This wasn't the same beast he'd sought to tame previously. And he certainly wasn't the same miscreant.



Rising upon his elbows, the beam that had managed to impale him was slowly slid off of until he found himself in a seated position. The armor and clothing that had clung to his upper torso earlier had been stripped clean from her technique, his skin scarred and ruined in the wake of such devastating force. But his genetics were far more significant here than elsewhere. Immortal, or not, it would take more than that godly burst to keep him down. As he rose to his feet, his eyes scanning the remnants of the building; but a mere shell now that could collapse at any point, he lowered his head to the wound upon his torso that was slowly knitting itself shut already. The fact of his cowl and cloak failing to conceal his presence was also very noted, leaving him to toss both to the side as discarded trash. He couldn't hide his identity from such an upper class entity. It was more suited for the vermin of the city, and those who knew no better. Brandishing his unique, trademark, identity, his eyes vaulting to the open view above, he'd offer a simple sneer. Allowing Apocalyptica to stand upon its own whim, his free hand rose to brush at the locks of vermilion hair that spilled forth. Ruffling it to a degree, he'd take hold of the devilish scythe once more.

And in that instant he'd crouch before lifting off of the ground in the same manner he'd done prior. Rising through the building, he'd pelt through beams and the like, the building collapsing around him from the force of his ascension. Upon reaching the pinnacle height the building managed to tower to, his eyes would suddenly bleed a vicious emerald. Locks tainted blood red would burst golden as did his aura envelope him. Static flickers of disruption would clatter to life around his figure as his speed surpassed what it had been before. Claiming the second transformation in his arsenal, having skipped the first altogether, he had an inclination to show her just what she was getting herself into. And this was hardly as serious as he could have been. But, then again, jumping to the fourth, and final, transformation may prove too much.

Having demolished the entirety of the building, Kazura's figure became akin to a rippled distortion upon the surface of water. Hauling back his arm, he'd unleash Apocalyptica akin to a boomerang, unleashing it to cleave at her very figure. The power of the swing and the mystic properties of the blade would serve its purpose. Material cleaved apart by it suffered with the manifestation of the black flames that would burn, and set flame, to nearly any material; water itself suffering. Though the flames did only last for a minuscule amount of time, a simple wound could easily become a gaping, singed, wound of extreme measures.

Continuing on with his velocity, though, he'd move to careen past her, his devilish emerald eyes catching her own, should he pass her by as he'd planned. Twisting his body upon passing her, his devilish, cruel, intentions would swiftly set in as his hands would reach out to claim her wings. A single foot would strive to plant itself upon her spine as he'd wrench with all the might he'd been granted. He'd bank on her being distracted by the inbound weapon, and would count on her not expecting him to put himself in the path of his own weapon.



And whilst his mouth moved, so did his mind suddenly reach out. Should she put a halt to him, even in the slightest, he'd still set the gears of chaos in motion. Certainly, death meant nothing to him here. He could easily find his way back, one way or another. He'd done it before. So, in that instance, he'd need to have someone already enacting the machination. Legion would come to pass, despite its prior snuffed rising.

Taima raised her arm up to deflect the incoming blade which struck against the shield strapped to her forearm. With a resounding impact the collisions jarred her mid flight, and as the blade rend along the length of the shield it left a trailing burst of flickering flames in its wake. With her arm firmly strapped to the inside of the shield none of the flames reached flesh and were quick to die out, and little more than a long scorch mark upon the face of her shield remained.

Meanwhile, Kazura would once again find the visual disruption ineffective as a sensation of warning washed over her.

'To your left'

The sapient nature of the sword upon her back left her with a second pair of eyes, and the two of them had been bonded for long enough that they often fought as a single entity, and a single mind. Aecris' warnings were more a sense of intuition rather than something that needed to be processed and questioned.

Her head shifted to the side, catching the movement of Kazura from the corner of her eyes. He had released his other weapon - Onikussaiga - but rather than falling to the ground below it hovered in place beside him. She remembered its bite quite keenly and she didn't fancy taking a direct hit from it as she took careful note of its position.

Apocalyptica had ricocheted off and was still in motion through the air which left it an equally potential threat. Aecris should warn her if it rebounded back around to make a pass at her exposed back though, and she gave Kazura her primary focus. His fingertips grazed the scales of her wings as she twisted to meet him, but he was too close to make efficient use of her halberd as little more than a bar to keep him pushed back. She needed to gain some distance if she were going to utilize it effectively, and she couldn't fly backwards.

With a growl she held the weapon lengthwise in front of her in both hands as lightning arced down the length of the weapon. Fortunately the resistant nature of her armor, and her natural affinity to lightning would mitigate the brunt of the damage to herself as it scorched the breastplate of her armor and dispersed along her scaly hide. The jolts drew little more than a low growl from her maw, but Kazura would be less well protected from the arcs of electricity that jumped to slam into the nearest objects they could find.

The pair were for all intents and purposes caught in a coalescing and sparking globe of lightning being generated by Taima's halberd.

Apocalyptica had been a viable option at the time but he soon realized as it careened off, having rebounded off of the shield she'd wielded, that it had been a far cry from the consequence he'd expected. With Onikussaiga off to his side, lackadaisically hovering by the power of his mind only, his intentions had surely been to strip her of her wings. Unfortunately, that was not the case as she managed to whirl around before he'd had the utmost opportunity to rip the appendages from her being. Unable to grasp at her, his eyes dangerously narrowed as his mind whirred into various tactical strategies. A swift twitch of his fingertip halted Apocalyptica's progress, leaving it to idly linger within the sky. A second twitch of his finger ignited the staff and scythe into a burning conflagration of seething, blackened, flames.

But at that point, before anything else could be done, his eyes caught sight of the flickering mass that was now poised to strike him. His lips curling into a wicked snarl, his mind did the next thing he could think of, his opposite finger jerking in a similar fashion to the other which signaled Onikussaiga. The fiendish blade became embellished in tainted, vermilion, miasma and a devilish outpouring of Yoki escaped the medium. Distancing itself, it came to roughly the same position opposite Apocalyptica just as Kazura's frame took the brunt force of the elemental invocation summoned against him. His plight was well noted as the lurching, searing, bolts clamored into his torso, propelling him backward before rending a hole into his abdomen, the voltage pummeling him without reprieve. The only drawback to such a thing was the sudden amplification of his thought process. Rather than scrambling his mentality, it only served to invoke a hurried sense of decision making, his eyes widening in haste.



His stammered words were swift and within reason, but as his sentence came to an abrupt end, so did his arms fling out to either side. Eyes pulsed to life, a crimson illumination oozing from them before both hands clenched into fists. Blown back by the elemental attack, those very eyes unleashed a potent pair of beams that would pierce the air and aim to char through her very throat, or whatever happened to be in their path. The fact that she'd already initiated her own attack gave him the realization she'd be pressed to defend herself, or mitigate such a fiendish backlash, and would herald some extent of damage. In that instant, Onikussaiga and Apocalyptica swiftly moved into action, arcing through the air in a spherical pattern. Their speeds soon became apparent as sweeping arcs of blackened flames and disastrous, decaying, Yoki filled the air akin to a hollow sphere, closing her in as he, as luck would have it, was thrown out of range by the might of the element that had pierced him.

Tumbling backward through the air, he came to a halt, a hand lowering to the gaping hole within his midsection, not mere inches away from the prior wound that had already begun to knit itself closed. As an eye fell closed, the snarling lips coiled into a twisted sneer as his tools of destruction wove their fabric of impending demise. Almost a solidified, hollow, sphere of flames and Yoki, meant to rend asunder all that touched them, his fingers again coiled into a fist, beginning the task of compacting the sphere.

As he lingered within the sky, his spherical disaster closing itself in upon the immortal, he took no time in ascending once more. Eyes silhouetted with vermilion peeled open once more as the transformation shook the heavens and reduced the Terran floor to a quaking, calamitous, region wrought with new found carnage. The golden locks and aura that had surrounded him previously become no more as a crimson shroud consumed his figure whole, tainting the golden licks of light that sprung up around him and leaving a duel colored, raging, inferno to swaddle him. The pulsing blue static that had clung tight to him now radiated in blood red, and his entire upper torso and arms, save for his pectorals and abs, were now covered in an equally crimson fur. Locks as dark as night now hung from his scalp and his tail swiftly coiled around his waist.

It was one thing to release his power, it was another to unbind it completely and risk the destruction of the planet. He had to tread lightly. Destruction was his utmost desire, but to do it in such a fashion would be petty and defeat the entire purpose of his machination. Instead, he'd relish toying with her from this point on. Clawed fingers slowly weaved themselves past one another to secure opposing biceps whilst he began to summon forth Ki reserves. Faint flickers of dust appeared around his figure, countless more populating the tainted sky above.

As the spherical deathtrap came to such a point as to restrict opposition, a single tilt of his head, his mind acting as the guiding force, signaled, Onikussaiga and Apocalyptica broke their tedious paths, lunging inward into the dome as guided weapons of demise. Lashing out, Onikussaiga arced force, hell bent on piercing through her side whilst Apocalyptica struck from behind, all intents to not only clip her wings in the ensuing attack, but to behead the creature as it hovered within the air. And as this became the scene before him, so did a hand gingerly rise from his bicep to collect the powered looking particles within the air into the nexus of his palm. Preparations for Scatter Nova.

As Kazura was knocked back, Taima was right on his heels with all the force of a bullet train. Her speed and unrelenting offensive left her undeterred by the beams that cut through the air. Her forward assault and the speed at which the beams lanced towards her left her little room to slow her approach or physically evade them - at least not fully.

A moving target was substantially more difficult to hit than a stationary one though, and rather than cut across her throat as intended, the beams initially struck against the plating of her armor between her neck and shoulder. The impact twisted her slightly in air as they lanced past and lightly seared the edge of her left wing. She rolled to one side to throw his aim off mark as she kept on top of him, but this time the beams contacted with the armor plating that encased her upper torso.

The armor of her breastplate grew heated and cracked as it took the beams directly, but they had failed to deter her in her approach which left both Onikussaiga and Apocalyptica at her back and Taima clear of the vortex that they had begun. The second impact of the beams kept her briefly at bay as her momentum was slowed while she sought to close the space between them even as he tried to distance it.

Meanwhile as she pressed in upon him, the air grew heavy once more as she let roll more growling incantations. As before they left a swirl of draconic runes dancing before the eyes of those who could perceive the words.

While she wove her spell her halberd was discarded to fall towards the ground below and she smoothly drew her sword from her back. Without breaking momentum she swept the blade across in a horizontal arc before her, and the ancient relic unleashed a curved scythe of divine energy towards Kazura's chest. The brilliant flash of light could be spotted for miles around, and though he was just out of reach for the blade itself to strike him, the energy would cleave through the air like a wave as it closed the short distance between them. She sought to catch him off guard in his assumption that the sword would fall short of its mark.

Meanwhile she growled out the final words of her incantation and at her back a ghostly axe manifested. It held a bluish and almost ethereal glow that surrounded the shimmering weapon and it seemed to move of its own accord while leaving a trail of divine energy not too dissimilar to Taima's own. Should it reach its mark and disrupt the rapid spiral of motion from Kazura's weapons, it would collide with Apocalyptica with the resounding clash of steel against steel.

She would be hard pressed to fight a battle on three fronts, and Onikussaiga would prove more difficult to tangle up as the weapon would be capable of cleaving through any spell she tossed at it, but the spiritual weapon would perhaps help to level the playing field marginally by keeping Apocalyptica off her back.

Unlike Kazura no words of banter graced her lips, and there was an unwavering and unrelenting fire that smoldered in the draconian's eyes. For all her seemingly tempered nature, Taima was a warrior at the core, and all of her careful self-control and discipline had been hard fought against a fiery nature. She had long mastered the passion and aggression of her bloodline though, and she was well capable of channeling and focusing it rather than allowing it to drive her actions. In fact, one might note that the fire stirring within her seemed to be held at bay - as was the rising storm of power that Kazura had felt earlier.

To an observer she fought offensively and with fierce aggression, but there was a great deal of restraint within her for those that could feel the weight of what lay beneath the surface. Her halberd, her sword, her shield, her armor... the objects were all formidable in their own right, but they wouldn't hold out for long against a being of Kazura's magnitude and she was swiftly expending their stored enchantments even as he rapidly progressed through his transformations. Despite this rapid expenditure, there was a clarity behind the heat in her eyes that spoke of precision and careful intent while the fire within her chest remained incubated - a smoldering flame waiting to ignite into an inferno.

As the battle got underway, the crimson glow of runes continued to linger at the edges of ones perception. Overhead one could almost perceive their presence as a violent crack of thunder split the air, following on the heels of a bolt of lightning that struck the pavement at the center of the unfolding chaos. The scent of sulfur filled the air as a looming figure stood in the wake of the lightning bolt.

She was a dominating figure, with a strength of divinity permeating from her armored form. Her face was twisted into the growling visage of a draconian, and a large pair of wings sported from her back as she drew a halberd and fell to one knee, driving the axe head into the pavement with a bellow.

"Arkha'k!"

The word carried with it the strength of the mountains, and the rolling fervor of a raging storm as a pulse of disruptive energies fluctuated outward from the draconian warrior. The pulse carried with it Taima's indomitable resolve and unwavering conviction given form. As the pulse swept through the area, it would sever and rend the magical energies that it came into contact with - primarily that of the blood magic animating the Zamikar clones. If successful it would rend them asunder before seeking out the source of their animation - Zamikar himself. As Zamikar was not a magical manifestation, it would serve only to inflict agonizing and debilitating pain as the magic tore through his body. The crippling nature of the divine backlash would be a direct reflection of the apparent strength and power of Zamikar's original spell and of each one of the clones... that is to say he would be struck with the equivalent of over five times his own power as the backlash mimicked the seeming power of each of the clones.

The pulse would have the unfortunate side affect of severing the magical energies of Acheron's own attacks, but given that the magic was emanating from his sword rather than himself, he would be spared the painful backlash that Zamikar would be facing and once the pulse passed, his sword would be undamaged.

Those within the air would be spared the pulse in its entirety as they were well out of its range, and neither the blood dragon summon, Revan, Sa'ida, Aiedail, or the Hellspawn would be caught in its path.

Despite the abruptness of her arrival it would be unmistakable that she stood as ally to those who stood against Zamikar. Her presence alone strengthened both mind and spirit while bolstering their weapons and attacks by granting a portion of her own divinity to those who fought beside her. Bullets would become beacons of divine retribution, and blades would be imbued with the tempest storm of Ahuma - patron father of the draconian people. These affects would not interfere with the preexisting properties of weapons, but rather serve to enhance them further.

Richard watched the chaos as he heard a click. "I'm Out!" He shouted. As he said this three more SRU officers would make their way onto the roof. Two of them towed a box with them and nodded.

"Got you covered." Will said as he opened the crate. A variety of weapons and ammo were revealed. Will took a large sniper rifle from the box grinning before setting up on the roof.

He propped the tripod up and then brought the scope up on Zamikars chest. The gun was equipped with a .50 caliber holy rounds.

"Target locked." He stated to the others on the roof with him.

Richard and the two other officers would do the same each grabbing one of the computer assisted sniper rifles. In total 4 rifles would be locked onto Zamikar. The weapons were easy to aim and use as the computer did most of the work for the officers. A green light around the scope would signal a lock.

Richard would lock onto Zamikar's head. "Target Locked." He stated. The others were locked onto his body as well. Each responded with a similar call.

"Time to put the big boy down." Will said.

"Jackson to Revan, 4 Locks on Target requesting permission to put the big boy down."

Archeron's gaze shifted to the most recent warrior to arrive on the scene: a hulking draconian lass that wielded a weapon suited for someone of her stature. He was shocked to witness the sudden retraction of his blade subsequent to the energy wave that rippled across the ground, but at least it occurred after he dispatched the clones in his vicinity. This was why he loved Wing City. There was never a lack of reinforcements when one of these conflicts erupted.

With any immediate threat eliminated, the armored vigilante set his sights on the blood dragon that rained down on the party from above. He carefully tracked its movements as it circled above, making sure he fully understood its pattern of flight before he struck. Four slashes in rapid succession launched four crescent-shaped waves of energy in the beast's direction. The ethereal projectiles were fixed on such a path that they would collide with the winged creature just as it completed its third revolution.

(Original post saved if needed)

Zamikar's clones all disappeared at that moment. By negating all magic, this allowed Zamikar to not register as a demon technically and escape the binding, allowing him to leave the battlefield and escape. All traces of Zamikar exploded, and he escaped before the attacks hit him.

The Hellspawn slowly but surely exploded as well.

(If all people involved really want to continue, and I mean everyone, I may be willing to revert. But frankly, this scene has been one disaster after another. I have done many scenes before, lost before, but this is too irritating. That said, I tried to follow IC logic in this post. But I will only be willing to change the post back and fix it if everyone actually wants to continue and can convince me).

Unfortunately for Zamikar, the wiccan warding was still magic and as a result just as subject to the pulse that had rend and disrupted all the magic within the area, therefore the Zamikar clones would have been subsequently destroyed, and Zamikar struck with a debilitating attack consisting of over several times his own power. Seeing as Taima's spell mimicked its power from the accumulated magic affects it severed, the wiccan warding would have simply added to the accumulated backlash that Zamikar was struck with, and none of the Zamikar clones could have gone on to continue attacking people, including the shift into spirit form to attack Sa'ida, and the stabbing of a knife into the ground, and the ground itself could not become hell, nor would tentacles form. The only clone that hadn't been in the range of the pulse was the dragon.

As Zamikar exploded from the backlash of magic that tore through him, the combat zone fell silent. Unfortunately he would find himself unable to escape as the directed pulse had been very precise in what was caught in its path, and the binding runes were not in an outward pulse from Taima.

As such he would likely reincarnate later - still trapped.

Meanwhile Taima stood and drew her halberd from the pavement with a rumbling growl as she retrieved what she had come for - the amulet, The Hellbringer and Destiny Shard.

Zamikar subsequently explodes from the attack then, and is resurrected far away. The blades are both gone, having disappeared, and so has the amulet. Zaniest lost mass amount of people against him won hurray go have a parade.

(This scene hasn't been fun for a long time, and I only role play if it's fun. I am usually a lot better then this and this scene was unusually bad. I hope for better RPING experiences with all of you in the future)

Unfortunately for Zamikar, the weapons weren't gone, as the WCPD's device was still in place preventing planar travel, planar shifting, teleportation and other such means that the weapons could have 'disappeared' via. Likewise, the binding runes were still in place, preventing Zamikar's departure. He would likely resurrect at a later date, trapped within the extraplanar pocket dimension, without his weapons which where now in Taima's possession.

As the fight ended and all the commotion settled, so did the ocell, behind the draconian. Her glaive was raised in caution, but held slightly behind her to signal she didn't mean to attack. She lifted her chin and examined the creature closely, both confused and enlightened by its presence. She didn't advance toward it. Not yet.

"Who... are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. She folded her wings in closely to her back, noting the creature's own, much different than hers. "I've never seen you before. Are you a god?"

Between the titanic crushing grip encasing it, and the holy, blessed edges of golden blades being thrust to either side through it's very core, the Hellspawn was slain, torn asunder and then crushed entirely. As Revan's blades slid back into their gauntlets, an officer on the roof beside Will brought up a different gadget, aiming it at the cherubim. He then triggered it.

A powerful magnetic field raced to strike the holy monster, reaching through it to the embedded nail in Revan's chest. Tearing it free, it raced to contact the magnet.

The cheribum fell towards the pavement, impacting hard, even as it seemed to boil in on itself. With a wrenching scream, Revan's contained monstrosity poured in the open wound in his chest in a hurricane of wild energies, the annealing flames sealing it behind them, leaving behind the sunken scar that followed every unleashing of the power of the nail. Reeling as he clambered to his feet, the momentary disorientation of returning to his flesh left him as he stumbled towards Taima.

A hacking rasp first left his lips, the man clearing his throat with a raw, stripped sound before he spoke again, in a rasping whisper.

"Timely arrival for assistance. Thanks."

Taima might have smiled at Sa'ida's inquiry had such an expression been possible with her draconic visage.

"No, I am no god," Taima replied, her voice rough and gravely.

"You fought bravely," she commented. "But this battle is not yet over."

"The Destiny Shard, one of twelve," she explained as she offered one of the blades out to Sa'ida. "Hellbringer, one of seven," she continued as she offered the second blade to Revan. "All with the power to slay immortals."

Her tone had turned grim.

"I would ask of you to safeguard these blades, and to take them north to the temple of the Patronus where they might be kept safe from those who would misuse them."

She had been sent to retrieve the blades, and no doubt her decision to entrust them into the hands of mortals instead of returning with them would send ripples throughout the pantheon. But Taima could think of few things more dangerous than gods wielding god slaying weapons. Better to leave them here, in the realm of man.