Announcements: Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newbies » RPG Chat — the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Presuppositionalism » Aphantasia » Skill Trees - Good, Bad & Ugly » In-Game Gods & Gameplay Impact » Cunningham's Law » The Tribalism of Religion » Lost Library » Game Theory » The Hidden Void » Removing CS From an Indy Universe : Solution » On the Matter of New Players and Orphaned Plays » STOP BLAMING US FOR RPG BEING SLOW! » Polytheism » The Game of Life » Just War » Science and Philosophy » The Bible as Literature » Humans in the MV. Questions and thoughts. » Surviving the post-holiday apocalypse. » SL: 1097 Bestiary of Monsters »

Players Wanted: Looking for roleplayers » A Fairytale World in Need of Heroes & Villains! » Are You a Crime Addict? » Wuxia RP » Looking for roleplayers » New Realistic Roleplay - Small World Life ٩( ´・ш・)و » Mentors Wanted » MV Recruiting Drive: sci-fi players wanted! » Veilbrand: The Revolution » Gonna do this anyway. » Looking for Kamen Rider Players » Elysium » Looking for roleplayers for a dystopian past! » Revamping Fantasy Adventure RPG, need new players » Here, At the End of the World (supernatural mystery drama) » Seeking Role Players for a TOG Based RP » so I made a Stranger Things RP idk why not come join » LFP - New Roleplay » Gifted/Mutant individuals escaping the gov » Spaceship Zero! A retro horror sci fi RP with rayguns :D »

Orsa of Terminus: The War Renewed

Wing City

0 INK

a part of Orsa of Terminus: The War Renewed, by Tiko.

Wing City

RolePlayGateway holds sovereignty over Wing City, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

123 readers have been here.

Setting

Wing City
Create a Character Here »

Wing City

Wing City

Minimap

Wing City is a part of Terra.


Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Imehal)
ImageThe conversation around her fell into silence but this did not seem to bother Parlina. By now she was accustomed to Taima's ability to communicate without speaking, appreciating both its uses and - if she was honest and she always was – fantastical nature. Telepathy was not something she had ever encountered prior to coming to Terra.
ImageParlina set a rapid pace with the mending the broken bones, raising her other hand to pass over Taima's body leisurely, healing up any cuts or minor wounds. Even if the dragonborn did not complain, she still worried over the person who had recruited her daily though she knew that commenting would do none of them any good. Parlina simply did her part, as they all did.
ImageKento's wide eyes only confirmed Parlina's earlier suspicions, grinning as her spell bestowed upon Taima both an uncomfortable tingling sensation as the spirits completed their work, retracting as Parlina did, sighing lightly. “All done,” she announced happily, turning her gaze up Alair and Kento, eyes flashing a pale green. Both seemed to be not too worse for wear.
ImageParlina hoped that the blacksmith had somewhere safe to rest up whilst hoping he was going to visit the monastery. Her feelings were that in a group they were stronger. It took not a moment to stand, offering a free hand to Taima to assist her rising.

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by DemiKara)

ImageAlair finally looked up from his ruined outfit, having been quite distracted and dismayed by it. Oh. Oh they would pay most heavily for this sin. No one messed with his wardrobe. He was going to put ten times the amount of effort into his training if it meant he beat the snot out of whomever had sent those nasty little outfit ruining things. Never mind that technically, it had been his fireball...
ImageWait a second. He had flamed! Finally! He had flamed! The half-breed let out whoop of sheer pleasure and danced in a pleased circle. "I did it! Finally!" Rynhart would be happy as well. Finally! He was practically all dragon now! Fire!
ImageHe paused a moment, then realized the terminal chill he had suffered from his entire life wasn't there either. He wasn't burning up, but he was certainly no longer cold. This was cause for a celebration. The victory was a cause for a celebration. And the best form of celebration out there was a clothes shopping spree.
ImageHe paused, glanced at the others sheepishly, and blushed. It could wait. It could certainly wait. Taima was being healed, it looked like, and Parlina was busy. And the guy they had apparently come to meet looked a little on the tired side.
ImageBut he was going to go on a clothes shopping bonanza in celebration. He needed new shirts anyway. After all, his favorite shirt was definitely worth at least twenty other shirts. At least.

Image

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Tiko and Vyral)

Wing City - Gambit's Hotel, Second Floor

ImageRed was lounging in a vacant second story apartment window of Gambit's, one leg dangling lazily over the edge while her back rested comfortably against the window pane. In her hand she held a dagger which she twirled deftly to keep herself occupied while watching the comings and goings of the building with an expression of boredom. Her lithe build, green eyes, blonde hair, and pointed ears gave her the look of an elf. On closer inspection though her pupils were slit, almost reptilian in nature, hinting at something more than what she seemed.
ImageThe hotel room wasn't hers, but she hardly cared about such technicalities. She was keeping up her usual vigil for the man named Drakus Flavaar, a steadily growing obsession in the back of her mind. Ever since the man had shot her she had been looking to settle the score, but as of yet her efforts had proven fruitless.
ImageAs she waited, lounged atop her perch, her mind wandered to her recent research efforts. Delving into blood magic was a rather taboo subject amongst many and information was difficult to come by. Furthermore the recent name she had stumbled upon had only been running her in circles and leading her into dead ends. The situation was growing rather frustrating for the volatile woman. In a sudden fit of anger, she sank the dagger into the wood pane of the window. A flash of irritation crossed her expression as she scowled deeply.
ImageIn the gloom of the apartment he sat and watched. What little light there was came in through the window, cutting a jagged slant across the rug and centerpiece coffee table. It was that table on which he rested his feet, reclining back in a slightly dusty, worn out armchair. The girl, Red, was sitting on the ledge of the window with the cool winter's breeze ruffling her hair slightly as it swept into the apartment. Faintly he thought he could smell perfume, although it wasn't one that he found pleasant. Coal black eyes still set on the woman, he reached into his jacket folded on the arm beside him and retrieved a lighter and two cigarettes. Placing them delicately atop his jacket, he rolled up the sleeves on his shirt - a faceless black - to reveal the intricate design of tattoos that sprawled from his wrists and upwards.
ImageHe expected she would recognize him from those alone, if she had done as much research as he had suspected she had. Amusingly, she hadn't got much further than his pseudonym. He reached for one of the cigarettes and stuck the thin stick into his mouth. The wheels sparking was eerily loud within the confines of the otherwise quiet apartment. A sliver of flame blossomed to envelope the tip of the cigarette. He inhaled deeply, and then let a plume of smoke coil outwards from his mouth before he decided to speak.
Image"Red."
ImageIt was a statement. He knew exactly who the girl was, and that she hung around this shit-hole frequently. As if on cue, a couple started shouting beyond the room's door. Their voices drifted off and were cut short by the slam of a door. A bemused smile quirked his thin lips.
Image"I hear you've been poking around after me." Again, a statement. Before he spoke again, he picked up the spare cigarette and held it out towards her. "What made you think that that was a good idea?"
ImageRed was a bit taken aback that someone had gotten so close without her notice, but she covered her suprise remarkably well. At first her expression betrayed nothing as she turned her gaze upon the man's form, but a moment later her lips twitched into a light smirk.
Image"Well, well, isn't this a surprise," she replied as she swung down off the windowsill, leaving her dagger embedded in the wood.
ImageHis usage of the name Red meant that there was a good chance he wasn't aware of her former identities, though given that there were almost no records of her past, that wasn't unusual in itself. Her extra curicular activities frequently made it prudent to cut old ties and there were few who knew where she had come from before she arrived in Wing City. She had changed names so many times not even she remembered her birth name anymore. The past was something Red did not dwell on.
Image"You have, have you?" Red asked as she drew near the table he sat at. Opting for a seat across from him, she spun the chair around backwards and sat straddling it with her arms resting crossed over the back of it casually.
ImageThe offered cigarette was glanced at, but then disregarded. After a mishap with a truth syrum and a drink she made it a habit to not accept anything from people. Not that she expected any such foul play from a cigarette, but it had become second nature to refuse such offers.
Image"Good idea? Whoever said I thought it was a good idea? If it was a good idea, then it wouldn't be any fun now would it?" she asked with a low chuckle.
Image"To think, that I bought the smooth style just for you."
ImageHe looked insulted that she hadn't accepted the cigarette held between his fingers, and laid the little white stick on the coffee table between them, squaring the lighter alongside it. He sat back in the chair, and again lifted his feet to rest on the edge of the table, eyes sliding over the woman briefly. Strange that behind that frail facade was a creature that would struggle to fit into this room, and of that fact only her slanted eyes betrayed her. He studied her in pensive silence, ignoring her spurious comments as though she had never spoken at all. He took another long drag from his cigarette, the end glowing brightly in the dingy apartment. He rested it, still smoldering, in a tiny glass ashtray on the chairs arm, and then turned his attention back towards the woman, smoke slipping from his mouth.
Image"Fun." He rolled the word across his tongue, all signs of amusement gone from his face. "I don't think that fun is a word often used to describe my company." A slight quirk tilted his lips. He stood up slowly from his chair, movements methodical and relaxed so that he gave no cause for alarm. He walked across the room and stopped beside a smaller table slotted into the corner, atop which sat a phone. He picked it up, and then turned to face her while he dialed a number into it.
Image"What use a dragon has for Blood Magic I care little, but what use I have for a pretty woman who is learning to do more by slashing her wrists than cry for attention, I do." He pressed the last button, and hit dial. He hung up six seconds later, and slotted the phone back into the cradle. He walked back towards the seat and sat down, and it was as though he had never risen. "I hope you didn't think that I'd teach you for free."
ImageHe gestured again towards the cigarette on the table, after picking up his own and slotting it back between his lips.
Image"It helps with stressful situations."
ImageRed's eyes narrowed sharply as the man got up. His words riled her and she was rapidly getting the impression he wasn't one to be toyed with. His inaccurate implication that she was a dragon, however inaccurate as it may be, further proved to agitate her. The phone call set up some warning flags as well, but one thing Red suffered from was an over abundance of arrogance, and so she remained in her seat. When she spoke again, her voice was level and contained a more serious note missing from her initial words.
Image"Other peoples' ideas of fun do not often coincide with mine." she stated. "And truth be told, I hadn't really thought that far ahead. But seeing as you have broached the subject of teaching and fees, such an outcome has been determined as feesible?" she asked thoughtfully. She spoke honestly enough. Plans weren't really Red's strong point, and she more often than not acted on impulse when left to her own devices. "So all that remains are the conditions under which this outcome can be reached," she mused.
ImageShe seemed confident enough in her words; after all, if he wanted her dead for her poking around, would he not have made a move already? She didn't look at the cigarette as he gestured towards it. "I don't smoke," she replied flatly.
ImageWith a protracted grunt he retrieved a small plastic bag from his pocket and slipped in his cigarette butt and the ashtray. He smoothed the bag down, for the moment ignoring the girl who sat across from him. He could hear her speaking, even predict what she would say, but he paid her little attention. With the bag perfectly flattened, he slipped it into the pocket of his jacket and turned his head back to Red. He wasn't sure if he admired her bravery, or scorned her arrogance. He would find out soon, he supposed.
Image"It is a possible outcome producible from a number of factors, equations and predictions," he said, and gave her a quick smile. "That is to say, you will do everything I ask you to do without question or protest or I will have you slowly chopped up and fed to yourself until you bleed to death or choke on your own vomit."
ImageThis time, he didn't smile. He reached for his jacket at the same time that he stood up, and shrugged on the stylish black coat. He fastened the bottom two buttons, and then tucked his gloved hands into his pockets. He looked like any fashionable middle-class man might on a cold, winter day. He glanced at the phone once again.
Image"You might notice that you don't have a choice."
ImageThat was when the phone started to ring.
ImageRed's expression remained watchful as the man stood, but she made no move to get up. "Is that so? And what's to stop me from walking out of here?" she asked. Access to this man's knowledge was a powerful temptation, but being oppositional came second nature to Red. Even though she had no intention to follow through on her words, she wasn't really big on following orders from people she didn't respect, and when you get down to it, she didn't really respect anyone. Fear she respected, but as of yet she didn't know the man well enough to fear him. Her casual posture betrayed her lack of caution.
ImageAs the man glanced towards the phone, for the first time Red took her eyes off him for but a moment and let her own gaze shift to the ringing object. That she had looked away from a potential threat was yet another sign of her lack of respect for the man in the room.
Image"Nothing. That was the plan."
ImageThe phone kept on ringing, shrill and piercing.
ImageAs soon as she turned her face away from him, he turned and swung a well-aimed punch straight for the side of her head. While still human, he was notably stronger and faster than most, and the silver ring he wore around his ringer was large enough to crack bone. In his other hand he produced a slim, silver band. The collar looked like a necklace, although slightly atypical and a little 'gothic'. Spikes rimmed the inside, and would press oppressively against expanding flesh.
ImageRed caught the sudden rush of motion out of the corner of her eye a moment too late as the punch landed with a loud, hollow thud. There was a brief moment of silence where the phone stopped ringing, before the elf was tossed to the side with the impact of the blow, brow slashed by the edge of the ring. With deliberate slowness, he removed the silver ring from his finger and slipped it into the plastic bag alongside the cigarette remains. Hiking up his trousers, he bent his knees and crouched down beside her, holding out the necklace.
Image"I suggest you put it on without a fight."
ImageBehind him, the door to the apartment clicked open and two men entered. Both were nondescript, skinny and wearing grotesque animal face-masks. Neither spoke, or made a move to intervene in the scene. Each held a silenced pistol in one hand.
ImageThough still conscious, the blow had left Red stunned for several moments before she moved to try and grab onto something. Fingers closing around the edge of the table she tried to pull herself back to her feet as the other came up to brush against her brow. She could feel the sticky warmth of the blood beneath her touch. Staring down at the crimson stain on her finger tips, her eyes flashed with vicious outrage before narrowing on the man crouched there so calmly.
ImageFlickers of flames licked through the darkness between her fingertips as her temper threatened to get the better of her, but the appearance of the men in the doorway stayed her actions. Guns were something she feared, and she hadn't yet forgotten the entire purpose behind trying to seek this man out.
ImageSo much power just waiting at her fingertips; power this man had the means of assisting her in unlocking. However the vehemence in her eyes was unmistakable as she reached out to snatch the collar from his hands with pointed indignation. Unleashing her temper, while satisfying in itself, would not get her what she wanted. To get that, she would play this game for now.
ImageNo words came forth for the moment, which was probably for the best given that it was taking every ounce of her self-control to bite her tongue. She could do little to conceal the murderous look in her eyes though.
ImageTo her credit, she stood up quicker than he would usually expect. Hard-headed, he supposed. A thin trickle of blood slid from the cut across her brow, and she smeared it across her face with an angry swipe of a hand. The glowering fury only made him smile up while he stood to face her, still holding out the spiked collar. He didn't really expect her to take it; when she did, what was to force him to keep his side of the bargain? Even so, he kept his polite smile on his face and gave no hint that he planned to punch her again. Behind him the two men remained silent - mainly because they no longer had tongues to speak with.
ImageTo his surprise, the elven looking woman fastened the collar around her throat.
ImageThis time his smile was genuine. He clapped his hands together, and turned his back on her, as though dismissing her as a threat entirely. He took a few short steps towards the two masked men, and spoke in low tones to them. They both nodded once, and then they moved past him with their guns still pointed towards the woman. Cautiously, they motioned with the barrels for her to follow behind their employer.
ImageRed dragged herself to her feet, a wave of nausea hitting her from the head blow she had sustained. Controlling her temper was a constant battle for the volatile woman, but temper or not, she had the sense to know when such activities would be counter productive. She knew what she wanted, and that man before her had the answers. Besides, with two armed men on hand, these definitely weren't conditions that lent themselves in favor of stubborn refusal.
ImageWithout glancing back to see if she followed, he made his way out of the apartment and down the flight of stairs that brought him into a neat, tidy foyer. The office clerk was slumped against her chair, head lolling back over the back of the chair so that her face was obscured from view. A crimson spray across the wall told the story. He walked past the corpse without stopping, and pushed open the door. A cool chill of air washed over him, and he looked up at the sky. A few gray clouds rolled over the city, but he had no reason to suspect rainfall. A black van, its license plates covered with black tape, was sitting just in front of him with another man behind the wheel. He started the engine as soon as he saw his employer. Climbing into the car, he lit up another cigarette. The acrid smell of smoke filled the van while he waited for the two men to escort Red into the back of the van.


ImageJust over two hours later the van turned down a narrow gravel path, edged by thick, unattended foliage that scraped along the vehicle's sides. After a few moments of slow, grinding travel the van came to a halt, the engine ceasing its rumbling. By now there was almost no light left in the sky, and the only thing that lit the gravel pathway was the light from a spot-lamp on the cottage that stood thirty paces away. With a thatched roof, and slightly dirty white walls it looked innocuous and out of place for the scene. Hired for $250 cash under some obscure, stolen name and picturesque to a fault.
ImageIt was then that he opened his eyes, rousing from his slumber. He blinked a few tmes, clearing the haze away from his vision and turned to look at the driver, who nodded at him. Climbing from the van, he stretched his back with a loud pop and then moved to the back. The doors stood open and the two armed men were gesturing for Red to exit the van. With that under control, he turned and made his way towards the cottage, loose stones crunching beneath his feet. Still wearing gloves, he opened the garage door and stepped inside. It was completely bare, except for a door at the far end that led down to the cellar.
ImageHe shot a quick glance over his shoulder, and then opened the door and descended the stairs. He was confident Red would follow, or be shot. Either way, he wasn't worried.
ImageThe cellar was dark, and the smell of damp was strong in the air, sickening almost. Three chairs were lined up in the middle of the room. Two were occupied. A thin, screw-faced woman in one and a young boy no older than fourteen in the other. They were tied in place by chains, with their hands bound by cable ties that dug into their flesh like blades. They had stopped screaming now, but they still looked fearfully around the room as he entered. Another man stood in the corner, a sub-machine gun strapped across his chest. He had opted for a ski-mask, rather than some sort of Halloween guise.
ImageBeside the man were a series of mirrors along the wall so that each of the hostages would be able to see the rest of the room. A few feet in front of them sat a glass trough of water. He waited patiently for Red to be brought down and placed into the remaining chair.
ImageThe two hour drive had helped Red's temper simmer down and by the time they had arrived, she had regained her composure for the most part. The dizziness and nausea from the blow to her head had rapidly progressed to a splitting headache, but she pridefully refused to outwardly acknowledge the discomfort.
ImageRed continued to remain cooperative, at least until they reached the cellar and her steps halted, an eyebrow raised questioningly at the scene. This wasn't exactly looking like a situation she wanted to be walking into, but then again it was a bit too late to change her mind now. With the collar in place she couldn't assume a form that was more bullet proof and with two guns pointed at her, her options were few.
ImageDespite her apprehension, there was suspiciously a substantial lack of fear. There was caution, anger at being subjected to such things, but no genuine fear. Perhaps it was arrogance, perhaps she merely did not fear that which she had been presented with yet, or perhaps she was just daft. It was hard to say.
ImageAs one of the men gestured with his gun, Red took the indicated seat with a grimace of distaste. Her movements were sharp and jerky as her agitation drove her to express her displeasure of the situation. As soon as Red was sat down on a stool, one of the men tucked away his pistol and fastened her torso to the chair in the same fashion as the other two hostages. That done, the two remaining men tucked away their firearms and then looked over at him pensively from behind their masks. He cast a quick, sweeping gaze across the room's occupants and then pointed one hand at the young boy in the middle. He let out a yelp of fear, at which point one of the men promptly stepped forward and grabbed him by the mouth, fingers protruding inside to grab his tongue. After a brief struggle, the boy's tongue lay on the floor and a steady flow of blood flooded down the boy's chin. Pausing only to wipe the blood from his knife before he put it away, the man dragged the boy over still tied to the chair, and proceeded to drown him in the trough. It took three minutes of kicking and gurgling until he let go, and a limp body slipped from the bloodied water and onto the ground in a sodden heap.
ImageA brief nod of the head was all that was needed for the man to proceed towards the woman. In the same fashion she had her tongue cut from her mouth, and was held beneath the surface of the water, now dirtied with the young boy's blood. A few minutes later, there were two bodies strewn across the ground with pale, bloated faces and blood still trickling from their open mouths.
ImageRed watched the unfolding events with a remarkable amount of composure, more than should have been healthy given the circumstances. Either she was very brave, or she knew something he did not. Her eyes showed nothing but apathy for the woman and boy, indifferent to their fate beyond the usefulness of potentially warning her of what was to come.
ImageHowever, Red did not face the ordeal entirely carefree. Even though the thought of her death did not weight heavily on her mind, pain was still a concern. Pain was a powerful tool, and given what she had just observed, this would rank highly among the list of unpleasant deaths she had endured. She tensed against her bindings, resulting in them cutting painfully into her skin as she prepared to free her hands at the first flash of steel.
ImageWithout needing to be asked, the man grabbed Red by the shoulders and hauled her, chair and all, over to the trough. Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he plunged Red's head into the murky depths of the water and leant over to keep his weight on it. After a minute or so, he let go and allowed the chair to tip over onto its side.
ImageIt was only then that the man's boss stepped forwards and crouched down beside Red, a curious look on his face as she coughed and spewed bloody water across the floor. He stretched one hand out, and providing she didn't try and bite his fingers off, tilted her head to examine the cut on the side of her head. A moment later, the wound had faded from existence and he slid his hand away. She boldly met his gaze with her own while he examined her face and her mood did not improve even as the cut over her brow healed closed.
Image"Just getting a point across." He stood up and glanced at the men. They began clearing away the bodies, spraying bleach and disinfectant on the concrete ground. "If you take liberties, I'll kill you." He untied the ropes fastening Red to the chair while they began emptying the trough into the drains.
Image"As for the present, I'll teach you what you want to know. Just remember, you have to pay up. Alright?"
Image"I can hold up my end." Red snapped bitterly before she succumbed to another fit of coughing, her lungs still struggling to clear themselves of water and other fluids.
ImageDespite her anger, there was definitely something off about her behavior. Through the ordeal there had been no cowering or terror from her, only the sharp look of her narrowed eyes that reflected her volatile temper. The absense of fear in the face of one's potential demise was certainly not a natural thing, though that's not to say that she lacked fear, but over this matter at least she was seemingly undaunted. Had he attempted to cut her tongue as he had the others, she would have fought, but when she set her eyes on something it had a habit of slowly overtaking her mind until it became a single minded obsession. At the moment her obsession was power. Power enough to endure the humiliation he had just put her through. It was a harsh blow to her pride, but she would continue this game, if only because as far as she was concerned, she wasn't truly cowed if she allowed him such liberties in the pursuit of her goals.
Image"For your sake, that had best be the truth."
ImageHe turned away from Red when she fell into another spasm of coughs, his eyes settling on the three men whom had helped him all evening. Withdrawing his pistol, he fired two shots into each. Kidney, and then heart. Their bodies slumped against the ground, and he regarded them silently for a moment before turning to Red. He wasn't beyond seeing the murderous look in her eyes, but he had no doubts she would roll, sit and beg when he asked. Greed was a debilitating weakness. As her latest barrage of phlegmy coughs came to a halt, he clapped his hands together.
Image"You'll have your first lesson in two day's time." He took a moment's pause, eyes narrowing on hers for the briefest of moments. "You can take the collar off. There is no lock."
ImageThat said, he turned and headed for the stairs back into the garage, nimbly stepping over the trio of corpses slumped in the middle of the room. He glanced back once as he hopped onto the bottom step, jet black eyes settling on Red.
Image"I hope you understand what you have become a part of."
ImageClimbing the final few steps, he made his way quickly across the garage and then faded out of view as though he had never existed at all. Thirty seconds later two black cars pulled up the drive-way, tyres grounding on the gravel as they stopped just outside the house. From each car a man got out, one to fetch a lady known as 'Red' and the other to burn the property down when she left...

Image

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Script and Vyral)

Wing City - Lahmian Mansion

ImageIt was with a tacit feeling of excitement that Neferata Lahmia, Ancient Queen of the City State of Lahmia and present Queen of its vampiric ex-citizenship awaited the arrival of the man who had contacted her regarding an agreement that they might reach in terms of service, in exchange for something that the Lahmians had craved for centuries since their fall from power. A return to their glory days.
ImageThe elegantly dressed vampiress sat upon an extravagant red-and-gold couch, tasselled cushions and ornately gilded wooden furniture surrounding her. The room was part of an expansive mansion that belonged to a young Lahmian initiate by the name of Layla Richardson, the wife of a successful businessman and one of the few Lahmians who still maintained identities in the outside world. It was certainly a change from the mountaintop palace where Neferata usually resided; but she felt that if she were to be making her presence known within this city soon as part of this agreement, it would do to have a base from which to operate.
ImageAround her a number of beautifully -- less so than Neferata herself, but elegantly nonetheless -- clad women milled, waiting on her and providing her with every comfort she requested. Amongst them was the mansion's owner -- but location meant nothing, when your Queen was with you. All her children were her servants, and in return, she granted them power and protection. She wondered how it would feel to be engaged in a similar agreement on the other side, for once. Interesting, certainly. Though she would never consider herself a servant.
ImagePlacing her wine glass down on the table before her, Neferata cast her gaze about the large reception room; it was a well decorated and clearly screamed wealth from the seams, but managed to do so in a manner that was not gaudy. There were ornaments, but they were carefully placed and not too dense and great in number, the aim clearly quality over quantity.
ImageAll in all, the decor pleased Neferata. It was luxurious enough to suit her, without being overdone.Though they would have to clean up the dead husband in the bedroom at some point... it wouldn't have done to have him walk in on them, after all.

ImageBlack silhouette gleaming against the pervading moonlight, the expensive-looking sedan hurtled along the almost deserted motorway, headlights cutting a bright swath in its path. Sleek, and with its tinted windows lowered just enough to allow a constant stream of cool air to flood the car's interior, the vehicle made almost no noise despite its speed. Sitting inside on one of the plush leather seats, he scanned the landscape that rolled away from the stretch of gray, nondescript road. Sparse patches of dead trees, clumpy patches and grass and the skyline of some nameless, smog-spewing town were all he was greeted by. He checked the clock that glowed in the center-piece with a flash of impatience in his eyes; the journey thus far had been thirty minutes of the same innocuous, numbing scenery. It would be another ten minutes until he reached his destination.
ImageHe wore a pair of expensive, stylish black trousers which he absolutely hated, along with the matching pair of sleek, black shoes that reminded him of the car. Aside from those, he wore a black short-sleeve shirt, open at the neck so that his various tattoos were clearly visible. It was rare that he dressed smart these days, but given that he had been reliably informed that Neferata was a prude, he had made some effort for their first meeting. While the car pulled off onto a smaller B Road, he busied himself re-assembling the pistol that had lain beside him for most of the journey with methodical slowness. By the time he had slid the clip in, the car had ground to a halt in front of a large, impressive mansion. He lifted the tail of his shirt, tucked the pistol into the hem of his trousers, and exited the car.
He spent a few minutes admiring the architecture, the tall arches and the wide windows that he could imagine bathing the rooms within with brilliant daylight. After a few moments standing beside the car he slammed the door shut and walked up the steps to the door, rapping his knuckles on it loudly. He sure hoped he wouldn't have to burn this place down.

ImageThe door was opened by a woman clad in a long purple dress, pitch black hair tied up in a wavy ponytail that spread out over her shoulders. Tall and elegant, the vampiress inclined her head to the man outside politely, stepping back from the door and gesturing inside. "Her majesty has been expecting you." she said, closing the door behind the man and any cohorts he had with him before breezing past into the entrance hall. The vampiress' footsteps clicked against the marble floor as she led him across the hall and toward a double doorway into the reception room where Neferata waited. She pushed the doors open, and stepped into the room.
ImageThe room itself was populated by a dozen or so of Neferata's clan, some obviously more senior members sat in various chairs around the room and clad in elegant gowns like the man's escort, and some clearly less so, clad instead in light armour and standing vigil to the sides of the chamber. In the centre of the room, with two of the other vampiresses waiting on her, Neferata herself sat calmly, searchingly surveying the new arrival.
Image"So good to finally meet you," she purred, a diplomatic half-smile turning her lips upwards, "The anticipation has been killing me." Neferata chuckled lightly, and gestured to a free chair opposite her on the other side of the coffee table. "Do sit down. Would you like a glass of wine? Or some other vintage, perhaps? I believe that Layla has quite a broad selection within her cellar."
ImageThe Queen directed her gaze at the vampiress who had escorted the man inside, "Am I correct, child?"
ImageThe woman nodded promptly. "You are, honoured mother. I would be glad to fetch any beverage that our guest wishes." she replied with an obviously carefully planned degree of haste.
Image"Good." Neferata nodded, "But that aside..." she returned her gaze to the man himself. "You are not, of course, visiting to sample the wine. I believe you have a proposition to present me with."

He followed the woman through the halls, eyes sliding across the ornate decorations and Imagevarious paintings scattered throughout the house. If it wasn't for the continuous clack of his guide's heels, he may have enjoyed the moment. When he stepped into the meeting room, he gave a curious look to the armour-clad guards and curtly ignored everyone else in the room save Neferata. He gifted her a rare, polite smile and took a seat across from her, studying her appearance in silence while she spoke. Pretty; some truth to the rumours for once.
Image"Water will suffice." He spoke without looking at the vampiress in the purple gown. Pretty girls had lost their effect on him hundreds of years ago. Not checking to see if the woman - Layla, his memory told him; a memory that was never wrong - had gone, he returned his attention to Nefarata. From Lahmia, so they said; older than he was, too. Yet somehow she had let the world slip between her fingers and now she relied on the gifts of her followers to impress. It was a pretty house though, he admitted.
Image"You believe true. I hear that your glory days are behind you, weathered away by the sands of time," he gave an equally false half-smile at the metaphor. "Whereas, I am in a position that affords me a great deal of power. Power that, so I hear, you'd like to get your hands on once again." He realised a glass of water had been placed on the table beside him, and took a sip from the glass. "The premise is that you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours - that is what they say, hm? I expect a pretty, intelligent woman like yourself already knows all this, though." It had been years since he had bothered for diplomacy, but he found that being polite still came easily to him. As did flattery.
ImageHe rested the glass back down on the table, and wiped the condensation onto the leg of his trousers. Every pair of eyes in the room was fixed either on himself or Neferata. Disdainful how he could feel their fingers groping out for the chance of their past glories, but it served his purpose well. "You do what I need of you, and you'll be richly rewarded. Does that sound like a pleasant proposition, m'lady?"

ImageWhilst Layla poured a glass of water from a nearby jug, Neferata leant back in her seat and steepled her fingers, eyeing the man. "As far as propositions go, it is somewhat vague." she said, "I would need to know a little more about what I am expected to do. But from what I gather, you have enemies that you wish to become... less troublesome. That, we can do. Even now the Lahmians are not idle; we may not be as influential as our glory days, but we have power in some places. The equivalent of 'sleeper agents' scattered amongst society."
ImageNeferata smiled. "Suffice to say we can make life very difficult for a large number of people, quite quickly. But I do not doubt you already know that. So my question is, what exactly is my reward, and what exactly is our goal?"
ImageThe vampiress inclined her head to one side as Layla passed the man a glass of water. "I assume that there is some overarching reasoning behind this, a plan, an aim, a prize... something of the sort." With a flexing of her fingers, the Queen smiled. "Whatever it is, I do not doubt that we can provide, should the reward you offer be desirable."

ImageWith a polite smile, he took another sip of the chilled water and rested the glass back on the table. Everyone in the room was still watching them intently, leaning in to make sure every syllable was heard clearly. Typical coven - tangled up in political intrigue. Even so, he was aware of the potential uses of them, and he would certainly be making the most of their assets while they lasted. Certainly they would be more malleable than Red; that one he would have to watch closely.
Image"As far as you are concerned, your job is to meet my demands. Make life difficult, perhaps lethal, for those I name and hand over certain items they have in their possession. That, simply, is all you need to do." The look in his eyes masked well the knowledge that such a task often had a short life expectancy. He took another sip of the water to punctuate to his sentence. "In return, you will get all the usual incentives; money, influence, power and respect. You will have the opportunity to make a name for yourself amongst the most powerful figures in this dimension. If you do your tasks correctly, there is little doubt that you will surpass your former stature."
ImageHe took another swig from his glass, and finished the last of the water. As soon as he rested the glass on the table, it was refilled with freshly iced water. Neferata had her minions well drilled, at least. "A fair proposition." Again a statement.

Image"That doesn't sound so hard." Neferata smiled. She had a long history of making life problematic for people. "So indeed, a more than fair proposition."
ImageThe vampiress laid her glass of wine down, drumming her free hand's fingers on the arm of her chair. Around the room the other members of her 'court' murmured amongst themselves -- The Queen could see each various tightly knit faction casting glances between one another, already assessing the likelihoods of what duties would be trusted to them. To her satisfaction, one the armoured women who stood to the side of the room was, rather than engaging in similar petty nonsense, exchanging a few words with the other soldier who stood with her.
ImageKorah Nieght was Neferata's general; the commander of her soldiers, few as they were, and she was a veteran of five millennia. Few of the Lahmian soldiers could boast of being amongst the original citizenship (in fact, barring two others the dozen guards here now were the only ones), but Korah had survived every war she had fought in Neferata's name unscathed. A feat that gave both her and the soldiers with her far more respect in her eyes than the bickering courtiers that surrounded her.
ImageOf course, political and covert activities had their merits too. There were better women amongst the court -- the solemn, silent figure to her right, barely noticeable as she stood stock still, eyeing the man across from her stoically for one, Neferata's personal assassin, Selene; the elegant, clearly more maturely formed woman keeping a watchful eye on the various groups of lesser wisdom - older than Neferata herself by a few years, her advisor Talmara; and even the flighty younger girl standing with less confidence but no shortage of determined strength to her left, her personal maid (and in dire circumstances, secondary bodyguard, youthful look disguising lethal skill) Diane.
ImageIndeed, there were those amongst her court that Neferata could trust implicitly. But there were also those with too much ambition for their own good. None dared to openly challenge Neferata; for she swiftly made examples of those who did (with the exception of the aforementioned individuals), but they could twist her words to their own benefit should she allow them. All of this passed through Neferata's mind in a few moments.
"I do, however, feel somewhat at a disadvantage." she said after those few moments, "You know my name, and yet I do not know yours. By what may I address you, good sir?"

ImageNames. He had had hundreds over the last twelve thousand or so years; how many personalities and families had he spawned? Lucian was the most recent, and the most commonly known; Lucian was a credited cardiovascular surgeon who had transferred from America to Africa, never to be seen again. Edward was the name he had used as a solider in Victorian times, even during the Spanish Armada. Julio during the final days of the Roman Empire, though that was more out of sadism than any love for those bastards. Tenako when he had lived in Feudal Japan as a farmer. Those were just the ones that he remembered this day; for millennium he had shunned any name and wandered the wilderness alone, journeying through the depths of foreign dimensions.
ImageHe fixed Neferata with a calm gaze for a few moments. He had visited the city-state of Lahmia once, though the name he had used eluded him now. Dusty was the word he had used to describe it. "Lucian will suffice."
ImageHe had always thought that the name had a slightly macabre twang to it; a name made for people who were destined for great things. He took another survey of the room, the hushed whisper reverberating all around him. It reminded him of when a bee hive was disturbed and hundreds of brightly coloured, hyperactive bodies began moving all at once. He wondered how many would survive the coming war. "Your first task will be to find a suitable place to both hold hostages, and to stage a battle in our favour. Make sure you don't disappoint, babe." The use of the endearment was far from complimentary; condescending, perhaps.

ImageThere was a murmur of shock as Lucian referred to Neferata by a term that was anything but respectful, all eyes on the Queen to gauge her reaction. Neferata herself did not bat an eyelid. She took a sip of her wine, and remained silent for several moments. "Lucian, then." she said, breaking the silence, "Far from an arduous task."
ImageThe vampiress clicked her tongue, as more murmurs were exchanged. Korah was bristling, Neferata could see that, but she had self control. She was wise, and knew when honour and all of that could be compromised. These were changing times -- and she was hardly the type to order executions just willy nilly. Not that she thought it would be that easy. Lucian -- obviously not his true name, but serviceable enough -- was clearly powerful, or else Neferata would not be having this discussion.
Image"I assume we have information on the hostages we intend tot take, what sort of things we must guard against? And as for the field of battle, what sort of abilities do our opponents possess that we might render disadvantaged by choice of location? Or is that up to me to find out, Luci?" As far as endearments went, that was hardly a choice that sung of fearsome overlords and great evils. Neferata thought it a suitable return of fire.

ImageNow it really was unlikely that Neferata would survive the coming battles. "Lucian. I won't tell you more than twice." He offered her a malicious smile. Again he saw the armour-clad lady bristle, eyebrows furrowing and eyes seething anger. Everyone now murmured furiously; truly these people did not understand what their Queen had dragged them into. An age old god was stirring in his prison, and his task was to set him free no matter how many souls he had to sacrifice. Many of the occupants in the room would find themselves swallowed by this war, and he felt no pity for them.
Image"Tessa is the target; young, stupid and irrational. The rest is up to you to work out, or else what use are you?" With that he stood up slowly and picked up the half-empty glass of water at his side. The space beside him twisted; not in a delicate, shimmering way. It looked more as though someone had violently twisted a limb until the skin tore, to reveal a gaping hole big enough to put a person through. He stepped towards it, taking the glass with him as he went. "I'll be watching, babe."
ImageHe heard a few people bristle beside him, and with a small smile tickling the edges of his mouth he stepped through the bleak portal, which promptly snapped tightly shut behind him with an expulsion of warm air and a static buzz.

Image

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Script)

Wing City - Lahmian Mansion

ImageRebellion does not rise amongst banners, posters and shouts. It does not rear its head amongst protests, confrontations and arguments. Seldom are its roots found in open dissent, miscarriage of orders, or disobedience. No, rebellion begins as nothing more than whispers of discontent, passed between friends. Passing comments, dissatisfactions, spread from tongue to tongue like a hushed chorus. It is only when a leader hears these whispers, or begins to spread them, that rebellion becomes tangible.
ImageLong have mutters of discontent passed between the ranks of the Lahmian sisterhood. Long have the younger generations disputed their elders' inaction, their subtlety and derision of direct action. But never have they surfaced - fear, respect and desire for power have locked all such things into the backs of minds and quiet whisperings alone with close companions.
ImageThere comes a time, however, when things must come to a crux. A leader surfaces, an opportunity is seized. With their almighty Queen seemingly entering their clan into the service of another, unknown man for reasons of her own, the whisperings of her people have become more prevalent. And one particular malcontent individual sees in this a chance to rise up and claim the power that Neferata holds.




ImageAll was silent in the room, quiet falling over the occupants like an oppressive blanket. A cold draft blew in through the wooden double doors that swung on their hinges, only a few moments prior thrown open. Mixed expressions of shock and anticipation were visible upon the faces of Neferata's court as Karinyé Allore, flanked by a medley of companions, stood proudly in the portal. The young vampiress' face was a mask of determination, framed by silky black locks falling in curls to her mid-back and across her chest. Her bright red eyes were directed straight across the room to where Neferata was seated.
ImageThe Queen herself seemed unphased, her position upon a particularly luxurious couch unchanged, her expression unreadable. She met Karinyé's gaze stoically, even as the girl (a woman, in truth, but in comparison to Neferata she was young still) stood her ground against the elder vampire's piercing stare.
Image"Neferata." Karinyé addressed her steadily, inspiring a number of mutterings amongst Neferata's court. The usage of the Queen's first name was not a luxury granted to many, and Karinyé certainly wasn't one of them.
Image"Allore." The blonde vampire returned the greeting with an equally level tone, lowering her wine glass slowly. "I don't suppose it would be too much to ask for an explanation as to why you and your companions have come charging in here so vigorously?"
ImageA number of short steps brought Karinyé closer to Neferata, and behind her Selene (the Queen's personal guard) tightened her grip almost invisibly upon her blade. "I have come to inform you that your services are no longer required." the younger vampiress stated with admirable confidence, "We of the sisterhood believe that you have run your course as Queen, and it is time for you to step down. The sisterhood will not bow before the man you seem to have adopted as your master as you do. You sacrifice any dignity that we have remaining in your doing so, and we will not stand for it." The tension in the room was oppressive as Karinyé continued. "Effective immediately, you will relinquish your power and accept new authority under myself, as elected by the sisters. You wi-"
ImageThe woman's speech was cut off as Neferata let out a laugh. A ringing, whole-hearted laugh, filled to the prim with utter derision. Karinyé blanched as Neferata rose from her seat, and the sisters assembled with her warily grasped at weapons. "You honestly believe that you have the power to unseat me, Karinyé? Your power is pathetic." The Queen smirked. "Elected by the sisters, you say? And how many, pray tell, are at your call?"
ImageHere, Karinyé seemed to regain something of her composure. "If you wish to ask, then I can safely inform you that our ranks are numbered at two hundred and fourteen. We anticipate that this number will rise once we make an example of you and your council." she hissed.
ImageNeferata's eyes narrowed, and her smirk faded. Two hundred and fourteen? The Lahmian sisterhood numbered only within the region of three hundred women. She had underestimated this threat. How many were with Karinyé here? A brief count placed twenty nine soldiers openly behind the woman, and a scan of the chamber easily revealed at least half a dozen further confidants of the woman within her own council. That left the numbers unbalanced, at Karinyé's thirty six against Neferata and her dozen guards, ten councillors, Selene and Diane. Outnumbered by half. But it was Karinyé who was outmatched.
Image"You have made one gross miscalculation, Karinyé." Neferata said simply. "To lead a rebellion, you have to make it out of this room alive."
ImageBefore the shocked vampiress had a chance to react, Neferata's hand was up and grasping onto her face. The Queen's palm glowed with sickly necrotic energies that seared at Karinyé's flesh and started to suck the life out of her. Vampires and the undead were all the more vulnerable to necromantic powers, and the younger vampire's piercing scream made that all the more obvious. Around them, chaos erupted.
ImageThe sounds of battle broke out as those loyal to Karinyé struck out against Neferata's allies. Korah and her soldiers engaged Karinyé's troops, and the traitor councillors struck out at the loyalists, using the element of surprise to their advantage. Selene vaulted the couch and launched herself into the fray, blades appearing in her hands as if from nowhere and burying themselves in the neck of an exposed traitor.
ImageAs Neferata continued to suck the essence from the rebels' leader, however, she felt a pair of hands wrap around her waist and suddenly found herself pulled to the side as Diane wrenched her away from the other woman. The first thought that flew through Neferata's head was that the maid had succumbed to Karinyé's words too, but as she regained herself she saw the girl's knife come up to block a strike from a concealed attacker, who might have wounded her had she remained locked with Karinyé.
ImageKarinyé herself staggered back from the clash, clutching at her face where Neferata had touched her, agonised gasps still coming from her. Neferata rose to her feet, and was about to strike Karinyé down once and for all when in an unexpected revelation, the girl lifted her hand and from it poured forth shadows. The shadow magic filled the room, blinding its occupants almost totally, as Karinyé's shout echoed forth. "Retreat! Fall back to the location we discussed!" she shrieked.
ImageEven as Neferata seized control of her own shadow magic to banish the unnatural darkness, the rebels were fleeing into the night. As the supernatural smoke cleared, it left a scene of carnage. Half of the Queen's council were slain, most in the opening moments as those they thought allies struck them down without warning. The casualties amongst Korah's elite were proportionally less, but no less a loss. Four of the twelve women who had served as Neferata's soldiers since the beginning had been struck down by the superior numbers of enemies -- though they had taken their toll on their foes. All but two of the traitor councillors were dead, and over half of Karinyé's entourage were slain - for four of Korah's soldiers, sixteen had been taken.
ImageNeferata scowled. How had she allowed this to happen? It was not the first time that rebellion had been attempted, but the sheer numbers? Two hundred of the sisterhood, or thereabouts. That left her with not even one hundred.As those around her began to gather themselves and attempt to figure out what had just happened, Neferata herself stood straight amongst the chaos of the once-pristine room.
Image"Talmara!" The Queen said sharply, calling her advisor to attention from where she was pulling her sword from the corpse of a dead rebel. "Send a message out to all those who remain loyal to me. They are to protect my castle from the rebels, with the exception of those present in Wing City itself and its surroundings, who are to report here. The castle has its own means of defence, but while I operate here I need them to set about recouping our losses in new inductions. Those tasked with likely candidates are to hurry forwards the process of conversion, and from thenceforth more blatant measures are to be instigated. I want a clan ready to combat this rebellion by the time that I finish here. You will go there yourself to direct this process, for you are the one most capable to achieve it." Neferata turned to the rest of those assembled.
Image"And the rest of you, you will remain here with me and carry out the requests - and I emphasise requests - of Lucian, that we might garner the power that he promises to better enable us to combat the traitors." A brief silence followed.
Image"Perhaps I did not make myself clear enough. You are to begin sorting this mess, and organising our regrouping now!"
ImageAt once, the room was a hive of activity, as the survivors scrambled to obey. Neferata herself remained where she stood with narrowed eyes. Karinyé would regret this day. She would make sure of it.

Image

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Imehal and Gasmask)

Wing City - A Cafe

Image“I give up.”
ImageThe defeatist words passed Natalie's lips in barely a breath, but her face did not seem terribly distressed. Her eyes were tight with frustration, but she maintained her usual poise, sipping at her freshly served tea with a frown on her lips, flipping the pages of the current novel she was reading in an attempt to relax.
ImageThe café was rather busy, not surprising considering it was lunchtime but the ambient noise was kept to a tolerable level. This meant that where the sorceress was snuggled into the corner on a worn but comfy leather armchair, it was merely background noise. She was mostly oblivious to the entire room, and therefore did not notice someone approaching the empty armchair beside her.
ImageLucien had been in the Orsa for only six days, and he examined the marking upon his arm, exposing it in the sunlight for a brief minute before letting it slip back under his cloak. His heavy boots clunked across the floor, each step echoing with magical power; his body was a large beacon to any magic user who could detect it. He had been the most powerful sorcerer from his realm, not to mention the last of his kind. He didn't care if anybody else detected his power, it wouldn't stop him from grinning as he sent them into the ground.
ImageLucien glanced around, he'd been restless of late. His mind had been wandering, he disliked his new allies. They let their greed and lust take control, making them cavemen with magical abilities in his own opinion. He tapped his thin and pale fingers across the hilt of his rapier as he turned to the waiter at the counter, placing his pale hand to the glass display case and pointing at a muffin. "That." he said coldly.
ImageLucien took his food gracefully, his thin hands taking the plate and a handkerchief from the counter, before walking to the free seat next to Natalie. He sat down and took a bite of his food, and giving her a simple wave.
ImageNatalie only looked up at the footsteps briefly, her frown deepening at the punctuated, distracting sounds that ruined the general mood of peace and joviality in the little cafe before returning the little black words that ran in rows along the pages of her novel. It was a trashy romance, for the young woman desired for something in her life that she didn't have to analyse or worry over. Something to simply enjoy.
ImageThere was a carefully hidden look of shock as Natalie picked up the feeling of magical exertion. A murmur of words, followed by the opening of a till, then the irritating footsteps began again, this time drawing closer to her. She did not look up, feeling rather than seeing the movement from whomever had sat beside her. Her grip tightened on the book, hoping that they would eat quickly and leave. Brown eyes lowered to her little tea cup as she retrieved it from the glass tabletop.
ImageStop being rude, she told herself admonishingly, hesitantly raising her gaze to nod politely to the stranger, who was very obviously the source of the uncontrolled magical bursts.
ImageLucien looked up from his food, lowering his hand towards the handkerchief and wiping his mouth free of crumbs, before lowering the useful cloth back down onto the table. He then extended a hand towards her. "Greetings, stranger." he said, looking down at his muffin before looking back at up at her, his eyes flickering down to the cover of the book she was reading. A romance novel? Hm.
ImageHe smiled. "Lucien, Lucien Athugtl Amorskr." he said fluidly, glancing out the window before returning to look upon Natalie. "Say, have you read the newspaper lately?"
ImageNatalie stared for a moment longer than was perhaps proper before tearing her attention away fully from her book, leaning forward to hesitantly accepting the pro-offered hand.
Image"Greetings sir. I am Natalie Oldburn," she replied politely, confused in the wake of tha rather odd question. Her frown abated somewhat at his gaze down at her book, bemused. Did she mind what image that put forward of her, reading such a book? Perhaps, but did she care what this stranger thought of her? Certainly not. "No, I have not. Why, did something of note happen?"
ImageLucien shrugged. "I simply don't read them, but I suppose I thought you would." He nodded at her, raising the muffin to his lips to finish it off before wiping his mouth with the handkerchief again before continuing to talk. "But I have heard of the news of two rival groups gunning for each other. Something about artefacts?" He shrugged. "But, I suppose that's not really your cup of tea, so instead..." He paused, tapping his chin.
Image"What is your opinion on the book you are currently reading? I know of a few good books myself, not that I have the time to read them any more." He said, smiling.
ImageIt was with great fortune that Natalie had leant forward to retrieve her cup of tea just as the stranger asked about the artefacts, for it enabled her to hide her expression of sheer disbelief at the man's audacity or obliviousness. It was not as if her involvement with the Patronus was not unknown, or was it? There did not seem to be any hidden depths to his queries. Treat it as obliviousness for now. “No, I dare say not,” she agreed peaceably, glancing down at her book with a fleeting smile.
ImageHer opinion? Natalie succinctly informed him that it was not particularly well-written, but it had a certain charm to it, and it was a lovely reprieve from all the heavy reading she did for her studies. “You don't strike me as the type to read trashy romance novels though, Mr Amorskr.”
ImageLucien had no idea. No one had thought to tell him about the individuals that were involved within the Patronus. In fact, he thought that what he had been told was a fancy version 'If they seem to be Patronus, kill them' order. He flexed his fingers as he leaned back. "Ah. They're supposedly fairly powerful, but the two rival factions going at it seem threatening. It's said that they could be anyone of us, but I don't believe that. If they were really that bad we would be finding dead people in the streets." He said unblinkingly, his face belied truth and a slight confusion, but it was only a half truth.
Image"Ah, well. I don't mind them. I prefer something to mull over, Thinking is an addiction I cannot seem to get away from, let alone stop." he joked, smiling faintly. "And it is just Amorskr. Mister reminds me of a painful time in my life, one which would do me good not to remember. Lucien will do, however." He didn't seem to be displeased, just idly annoyed as he raised a hand to cough into, but his eyes belied that his past wasn't as noble as his outfit suggested.
ImageHe brought up an interesting point, but Natalie had already said that she didn't have any particular interest in the matter, so it would be suspicious if she brought the debate about the actions of both Patronus and Orsa to the table again. There had not actually been that many random deaths since the conflict had broken out and those that had died; well, they had been 'fixed', and certainly not well-known to the general public. She found herself agreeing with the stranger, smiling in bemusement as he continued on about books before enquiring about her honorific for him.
Image“I would not call thinking a bad addiction. Would you really prefer to spend your days with an empty mind? That would be a dreary existence,” Natalie commented lightly, expression vaguely interested. Detaching herself was a behaviour well employed since her near daily associations with Red, so it was pleasant to find someone she could engage with on an intellectual level that she did not have to keep constantly reprimanding. The hand she took sincerely now, wary but she would not judge this stranger based on his interest in the conflict. She did not recognise his name; did that mean he was a new Orsa recruit? What did that mean?
Image“Ah, but I am afraid I cannot call one so familiarly without knowing them better. We will have to find a compromise,” Natalie replied, releasing the handshake with a slight smile. His eyes were telling, but in truth few were as noble as they appeared these days, Natalie included. She could hardly hold that against him. “Do you retain a title that I might call you by?”
ImageAmorskr raised a hand to his chin and thought, searching his memories for a title before settling on something that most people were not called. "Lord Amorskr." He chuckled, bowing his head in bemusement. "Ah, but as I said before, you can simply call me Lucien, Miss Natalie." He raised his head to smile gratefully. "Mhm, you may call it dreary, but this world holds many books, tomes and other such litanies of power. Knowledge is power Miss Natalie, but I understand. A friend once told me, which I have kept close to my heart is; 'an open mind is akin to leaving a fortress with its gates unbarred and door unlocked.'" he finished wisely.
Image"That knowledge is what has led me here - allowed me to escape the clutches of more powerful beings than myself. I swear on my title that an open mind is what brought down my world's strongest leaders." Lucien said dismissively. "But I digress, forgive me for doing so. Such matters are for another time." He ran a pale finger down the scar upon his left cheek. "Might I ask what career you pursue?"
ImageThere was a moment where the sorceress toyed with amusement over politeness, but the latter won out. It often did these days. “I know I may and I choose not to, Lord Amorskr. If you please, I would prefer Miss Oldburn,” she replied pleasantly, lowering her hand from his and releasing the grip held. He talked on as a frown found Natalie's lips. She did not like being misunderstood, but instead of snapping, she chose a direction infinitely more fulfilling. “My career? I am a teacher, thus I find books and learning a lot less dreary than most. The mind does so suffer from inactivity.”
ImageOh, now she was smiling rather slyly, taking another sip of her tea to hide it. “An open mind is of no use if one does not listen to knowledge imparted, I'm afraid. But now I digress. What of your profession?” Natalie continued, her question polite as she set aside the cup.
Image"A teacher? You didn't strike me as the type to teach, Miss Oldburn." Lucien replied, his sharp blue eyes taking in her sip, and it was as if they had penetrated the cup and seen her smirk, his eyebrow raised as a smile reached his lips. "Lord Amorskr, hm, that title hasn't been used for me for years, not since the very days of my youth." he idly said, propping himself on a slender finger. "My profession? Well, I have had three. Each one more interesting than the last, for now... I'd guess it would be a man who offers his services for money, my services being the magical path of summoning." he replied to her question, keeping a point to call it summoning, it was a fitting explanation for a less than respectable path that was par to Necromancy. Maybe even worse. "Sell-Sorcerer, maybe? Hah, not like anything interesting has come my way for some time."
ImageNatalie raised an eyebrow at the use of the title, firmly resisting the urge to shrug. It did not matter to her whether the honorific was rarely used; she was merely pleased that he had one. His response made her frown though, thoroughly unsatisfied. “Everyone offers their services for money unless they are fortunate to be provided for by another,” she replied primly, though there might have been a touch of derision to her tone towards the end. “You're a sorcerer for hire then?” She looked across at Lucien, now clearly judging him. “I see. What would you class as 'interesting'?” Her enquiry was softly spoken, eyes lightening from their intent gaze.
Image"Oh, yes I am a sorcerer for hire, but that makes me no different from an arch-mage or any other type of sorcerer. I don't waste my magic on just anything." Lucien replied, but his tone was fiercely protective of his stature in the sorcery caste hierarchy. "But there are shortcomings. Lousy pay, constant danger..."
ImageHe trailed off for a second, glancing out the window and then returning back to the conversation at hand. "Interesting? Interesting would be finding knowledge long since forbidden or lost to our eyes. Finding caches of scrolls, fighting abominations not of this world. Even with a closed mind, we must all find some thing interesting to fuel our lives. Finding something forbidden as a child was my fascination, be it as simple as the sweets jar on the top shelf, but now? I seek forbidden knowledge in darker places where is no light." Lucien tilted his head at Natalie. "But it is not the journey of constant danger there, it is knowledge and reward at the end."
ImageNatalie's amusement was brief but noticeable at his relaying of the disadvantages of self-employment. “Indeed - no matter our calling or wage, we are all practitioners of the magical arts. I do not disagree that point whatsoever.” His explanation was quite enthused, making it hard for her not to smile softly. However there was now a stiffness to her posture, glancing down at her half-finished tea though she possessed no desire to finish it. “All knowledge has its use and just as you seek forbidden knowledge, I attempt to perfect myself in all areas that I excel at.”
ImageNow she looked up at the clock, sighing softly. “Journeys are just as important as the destination and once more, I must continue on mine. It was a pleasure to meet you. Enjoy your day, Lord Amorskr.” She rose gracefully, bowing her head towards him. “Good day.”
ImageLucien Amorskr rose from his seat and bowed his own head. He pulled up his hood, straightening out his coat before laying a couple of gold pieces on the table, just enough to pay for his meal. "A pleasure indeed." he said, turning his shadowed head towards her and bowing like any good noble once more. "Let us meet once more under pleasant conditions." He then turned around, craning his neck and then advancing outside only to be passed by a child on a bicycle, holding a set of flowers in one hand, petals flying by as he disappeared around the corner. Now Lucien was just outside the window by now, gazing at the flower petals drifting by.
ImageHe caught one with his thumb and middle finger, feeling the texture and remembering a distant few years ago. He looked up at the sky, his hair resting just outside of his hood. How times changed... Nonetheless, he must continue on. He dropped the petal and walked down the road, turning around the corner and advancing towards what seemed to be a rundown hotel.

Image

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Arrow and Tiko)

Wing City - Gambit's Bar


ImageArrow swung the door open gently as he entered, noting the quiet within the bar and not wishing to disrupt it, and closed it behind himself with a quiet click. The archer made his way across the room to seat himself in a booth. His eyes wandered to the counter to ponder ordering a drink, but noting the present bartender, he thought better of it. Arrow took out a book, removed the bookmark, and set to reading.
ImageWhisper glanced up and gave Arrow a brief arch of her eyebrow as he sat there. He wouldn't be the first Patronus that had refused to be served by her, but she would inquire none the less. Closing the book in front of her she left her pen trapped beneath the pages to mark her place. "Can I get you anything?" she asked.
ImageArrow lifted his eyes from his book to look at Whisper with a neutral expression, eyes betraying nothing of the feelings behind them. A mixture of ire and disappointment, tinged with sadness. "Since you are offering," he said, "A cup of tea. Milk, no sugar." The archer might not wish to speak to Whisper, but his sense of manners required him to at least respond when she addressed him directly.
ImageWhisper inclined her head as she prepared Arrow's drink. Sliding the steaming cup across to rest in front of him, she hesitated perhaps a moment, her eyes lingering a time before she shook her head lightly and withdrew her hand. "Perhaps we could speak of a matter..." she said carefully.
Image"It would depend on the matter, I suppose." Arrow responded, raising an eyebrow. The archer leant back in his seat with the drink and sipped from it, frowning faintly. His book lay folded on the table, and he did not take it up again as of yet. Whatever Whisper intended to speak about, he would give her a chance to make her case, at least a small one.
ImageWhisper nodded briefly as she ran a hand lightly through her hair, mulling over how to go about addressing this issue. Sometimes honest and direct was the best route. There was little to be gained from dancing around the bushes, or playing games when they both knew where the other stood.
Image"I'm not rightly sure how to go about this, so I'll just be blunt. I would like to speak with Sylvire, but showing up at her library knocking on the front door probably wouldn't be the wisest idea, for everyone involved." she said.
ImageArrow raised an eyebrow, "You wish to meet with Sylvire? I've not had much contact with her. In fact, not at all since she questioned me regarding the circumstances of the injury I received from a certain shadow creature." The archer sipped from his tea. "I hear you tried to kill her. I am not sure she would be inclined towards reliving that experience. Why?"
Image"I did, and I have no excuse for my actions, other than I assure you, it was never my intentions for things to go how they did." Whisper replied carefully. Her eyes shifted towards Arrow's shoulder. Images flashed through her head, memories of him lying on the floor, soaked in blood. Shaking her head, she gently raised a hand to her forehead, fingers pressing lightly against her brow and rubbing it as if she had a headache.
Image"I am sorry for what happened to you as well." she added wearily. "I will suffer for my sins soon enough," she murmured softly before shaking her head. "But no matter, this isn't about me. It's about Dinaeus, and Maleficus."
Image"You are taking a different tone to our last meeting." Arrow said, "I rather got the impression you cared very little about your actions then." The archer folded his arms, "I am aware of those names, though I have not encountered either of them. Perhaps you should explain to me first."
ImageWhisper sighed softly, "Simply spoken, I'm worried for him." she explained. The tone of her voice seemed sincere enough, perhaps even a touch more sincere than should be expected. "Dinaeus that is. I know there's likely nothing I can say that will gain my words any credibilty, so if you'll help me, great. If not, I'll find another way. I wish only to speak with her, somewhere public and with plenty enough bystanders," she explained.
Image"I will relay your message." Arrow folded his arms, "Because I can read you like an open book, Whisper, and I am not even an empath. Obviously something has changed, to affect your attitude." Arrow inclined his head. "Did you have a location in mind?"
ImageWhisper seemed almost relieved at Arrow's words. "Thank you." she said. "And no, I do not. I don't expect her trust, my only conditions are as stated. Somewhere public. The Plaza perhaps."
Image"Very well." Arrow nodded. "I will inform her. And how are you faring, Whisper? What conflicts do you suffer at present, as I assume they are plenty." The archer sipped at his tea sedately. Whisper could choose whether to remain and converse or not, she seemed to be worthy of at least a few words at present. If nothing more than that.
ImageWhisper seemed almost taken back by Arrow's inquiry. His civility hadn't surprised her, but she hadn't expected such a remark from the man. In fact she fell utterly silent for a moment, her eyes betraying her weariness once more. "Times have been better." she admitted finally. "Yourself? And the Patronus?" she asked, returning the gesture.
Image"Personally, uneventful. I fear that what remains unsaid is perhaps the most significant, though. The lack of news from all corners worries me. Failure to communicate is the sand in which the foundations of a war crumble."
ImageArrow folded his arms, "But perhaps now I am in possession of a callstone such things can be improved." The archer raised an eyebrow, "What is your situation with the succubus? Am I to take it that you are less in her thrall, given your presence and your wish to aid Dinaeus?"
ImageWhisper averted her eyes elsewhere, her hand raising to brush against the ring that hung at her throat. The gesture could have been mistaken as one of fondness, given that she had averted her eyes to hide the pain and fear within them. Closing her fingers around the ring, she clutched it tightly.
Image"I do not wish to aid Dinaeus against Nyx, only Maleficus." She would not betray the succubus. "My loyalties... are to Nyx." Her voice was strained and it was difficult for her to speak such words, false as they were within her current state of mind. "Not to the Orsa of Terminus," she explained.
Image"I see." Arrow said, disappointed. "Well, Whisper. I will not say it has been a delight to have this talk with you, but I will say that it was less of a travesty than I expected."
Image The archer rose, nodding to her. "I will pass your message along. Farewell, Whisper. May the gods grant you a quick end when it comes, or a release from the succubus that you might flee what you see as your fate. You are not my enemy, but neither can I count you as my ally, nor truly a friend. You understand. Goodbye." And with that, the archer departed.

Image

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Tiko)


Wing City - Plaza

ImageIt had been a week since Whisper's brief exchange with Arrow, and the arrangements for her meeting with Sylvire had been scheduled to take place on this day. She found herself standing in the center of the Wing City Plaza, her eyes casting about patiently. She had arrived an hour early, if only to scout the area out and ensure that she was not walking into an ambush. She would not betray Nyx, but if the Patronus could glean some information as to what Maleficus was planning, it could be mutually beneficial.
ImageThe plaza itself seemed peaceful enough; the crowds worked their way through the area, stopping at the various vendors situated about the place. A large stone fountain stood a few paces from Whisper, a scattering of people gathered about it to sit and rest atop the cool stone rim that surrounded the gurgling water. It was not quite noon yet, but the harsh rays of the near mid-day sun were uncomfortably hot overhead, especially for the frail woman with her pale skin and light blue eyes. She always did prefer the moonlight to the sunlight, but on this day she wanted the crowds that the plaza offered. It would grant some measure of safety from violence, though that is not to say that she was relying solely on the Patronus’ good nature to keep herself safe. She remembered well the trap they had laid for Nyx, and knew that there were several members that could act with precision enough to not be a threat to the surrounding bystanders. She was however confident they would not act against her until after she had spoken. Sylvire would want to know what it was she wished to speak about; she would not be rash nor reckless.
ImageAll in all, Whisper was confident, though wary. She had her staff in hand and a few defensive spells already in place. The first was a spell of projection that left Whisper appearing about a foot to the left of where she actually stood. The second was one of true seeing that left Whisper’s eyes glowing an unusual luminescent white. The third was a counter spell that only awaited her release to activate. She was well aware of Sylvire’s recent work to create anti-teleport magic, and she did not want to wager against whether it would influence her ability to planar shift. Any efforts to lay such a spell over the area would be met with her counter spell, followed by a quick withdrawal. Also on hand was her old artifact - the Beholder's Spectacle - stashed in her pouch. The Orb of Restoration had previously responded to her call to heal Aeryn, but she suspected the new artifact would be of no assistance to her on this day.

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Script)

ImageSylvire had always been a fan of logistics. Meetings like this, back in the day, had been commonplace. A turncoat, or an informant, or even an enemy offering information that would benefit both parties if it were known. The Great Game of Houses had been a feature of daily life for Sylvire for her first few millennia. Backstabbing and lies were almost second nature to the supposed warrior of good -- despite the fact that she had long since left those days behind her. Or perhaps they had left her. Amarathia's fall had taken most of the great houses with it. But that aside, Sylvire had a lot of experience with planning encounters like this, which was why she had brought with her a number of trump cards.
ImageFor one, her Artefact. The Haywire Gem. Any sort of 'field' or 'signal', magical or technological would be rendered void by the stone's power. Secondly, the sorceress held a number of spells ready for usage at a moment's notice. Their energies were disguised within her staff, hopefully preventing them being detected as hanging on the edge of casting, but could be drawn upon at a moment's notice. A bolt of lightning, binding chains and a web of disruption. The lightning and chains were self explanatory, but a web of disruption was one of Sylvire's more complex spell.
ImageExtending outwards around her, the spell would encompass an area, having no tangible effect until someone who wasn't Sylvire attempted to cast a spell. At that point, one of the web's links would surge and send a bolt of arcane energy at the caster, shattering their spell and releasing the energy contained within it in the moments before completion on them. It wasn't flawless, it could only detect spells based around mana and similar such concepts, but Sylvire was pleased with it. But preparations aside.
ImageAt the time of the meeting, Sylvire appeared in the Plaza. She did not teleport in, neither had she been covered in an invisibility spell, she had, to put it simply, faded into the foreground. For approximately twenty minutes Sylvire had stood stock still in the Plaza, exuding not being seen. The eyes of passers-by had slipped over her entirely, they never saw her -- and as it wasn't 'invisibility', rather fooling the mind into not wanting to see her, perhaps Whisper would not have noticed. It was both magic and not at the same time. Its usage required an understanding of magic, but not any actual spell. It was a witch thing. Sylvire had learned it from a human witch many years ago. It was surprisingly useful. Headology, the woman had called it.
Image"Whisper." Sylvire nodded respectfully, "I understand you have some information for me."

ImageSome distance away around the fountain from the pair sat a young girl, dangling her hand into the fountain. Aiedai hummed quietly to herself, gazing at the bubbles and splashes in the water, but one got the sense from looking at her that her mind was far from what her hand was doing. The girl exuded awareness. But she remained passive. She had been ordered not to show herself, even in the most dire of circumstances.

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Script and Tiko)

ImageThe first sign for Whisper that something was amiss was the disruption of her empathy. Her psychic cabilities were lacking next to her counterparts and she required hand contact to really get a solid read on people, but it was still a disconcerting feeling to have her senses all amuck. The lack of understanding of how and where Sylvire came from was unsettling; it meant that either her true seeing spell was failing her, or Sylvire had a means of tampering with Whisper’s senses that the true seeing spell could not ward against. A spell can make her see things as they are, but if her mind chooses to disregard the information, then the spell is of no use.
ImageDespite her unnease, Whisper stood passive, her face just as neutral as Sylvire appeared. Her only response to the disruption of her senses was a swift defensive measure. She withdrew into herself, closing down her mind from the outside environment. Up came her defenses, a seemingly impenetrable stone fortress to encompass her mind. The stone tower that she visualized enveloping her was only as strong as she could will it to be, but as long as she kept her focus and the fortress strong, then her mind would not be accessible short of brute force. Any attempts to access her mind would likewise return to the intruder only the vague image of the visualized tower within her thoughts.
ImageMeanwhile Sylvire’s greeting was returned with a humble and respectful incline of her head. Whisper had the utmost respect for Sylvire, and perhaps it was this reason that she had so many defenses in place. If Sylvire merely allowed her to walk away, she would be thoroughly astounded. She had no misconceptions to the fact that Sylvire could and would do what others would not
Image“Indeed. I would have passed it through to you, but my efforts to do so previously were met with disappointment. I felt it best to see to it personally this time. It seems communications have not improved since we last spoke,” Whisper explained. Forgoing pleasantries, she dove straight to the point and business. The time for apologies was over; she was here for a specific purpose, and she would stick to that. The less conflicted she was, the more likely her chances of walking away from here alive would be.
ImageSylvire nodded. "I am aware. I provided the tools for communication, and I lend my ear whenever I can, and yet so often this is the case. Perhaps it is a flaw in heroes. So seldom do they wish to allow others to conquer their evils for them, out of some form of - poignantly - 'hero' complex." The sorceress folded her arms. "But I take it that is not all. Arrow mentioned something of Dinaeus, and Maleficus, who I had only recently beforehand learned is not quite as dead as I had believed. Do go on."
ImageWhisper nodded. “It is my belief that Maleficus has tampered with Dinaeus, much as he tampered with Ty. Unfortunately as I’m sure you are aware, Dinaeus has a pointed distaste in magic, and has been uncooperative with allowing me to investigate the extent of his... ailment,” Whisper explained. “Maleficus himself has hinted at nefarious plans for Dinaeus, but would not reveal the details.”
ImageWhilst Whisper spoke, Sylvire was probing. Not in a direct way, but her senses sought out the magical signature that she knew so well. One prominent source of it was upon her cloak, the gem within the brooch that clasped it. The Haywire Gem. Another source, however, was about Whisper. So she had an Artefact, and this meeting would, therefore, not be ending peacefully.
ImageIt almost saddened the sorceress. Almost, for these were trying times. There was both that which was good, benevolent, kind -- and then there was that which was necessary. The ends justify the means -- not always true, but certainly in this case. In this case, where the ends was a lack of an 'End' with a tangibly capital E.
ImageWhisper paused a moment, unaware of Sylvire's observations before continuing on. “Would you perhaps be familiar with something called The Lachance Games?” she asked as she moved to withdraw what appeared to be an orb of pulsing black energy from her pouch. She held it lightly in the palm of her hand, unthreatening. She expected wariness from Sylvire, so she kept her movements slow and steady.
ImageAs they conversed, Whisper was feeling out Sylvire as well. Her eyes glanced over the sorceress’ form, lingering for a time in particular on Sylvire’s staff. As she performed her inspection, Whisper’s eyes were an almost unsettling thing. Though unblinking, and seemingly unseeing, she perceived more than normal sight could ever hope to grant her. Sylvire's staff was a complex and intriguing thing that she would love to study in depth had she the opportunity to do so. In the meanwhile she had picked up on the spells disguised within the object, but it would take more time still for her to properly sort through the weave of magic to separate them apart from one another and read into their nature.
ImageSylvire frowned as Whisper produced some odd object from her pouch, eyes focusing on it as she attempted to detect whether the other woman was influencing it in any way. Satisfied that she was simply presenting it, the sorceress addressed Whisper's words.
Image"I see. That is unpleasant news. I have had little contact with Dinaeus, but perhaps I can persuade him to subject himself to examination." Sylvire thought she might be able to. Dinaeus seemed to have a respect for her, though she could be mistaken. "It would not do for Maleficus to gain the level of control over him that he has over Rahal."
ImageThe sorceress eyed the orb again, frowning worriedly. "I have not. But it sounds ominous. Lucien Lachance was a powerful entity that inhabited the Multiverse and Wing City prior to your arrival here. I am unaware of the circumstances of his death, but he was very certainly dead, I believe. He was responsible for much death. If this means his return, then I cannot think it anything but trouble."
ImageClicking her tongue thoughtfully, Sylvire nodded to herself. "Are you presenting this orb to me because it holds some link to these games, and Maleficus? I would hazard a guess that you think I might be able to glean something from it. If so, then I will do so. I have methods of containing ... unstable magical or otherwise items safely and examining them when I wish to." The sorceress fell silent, clearly awaiting Whisper's response.
Image“I’m not sure of much. Only that the term is linked to Maleficus in some manner or another,” Whisper explained. As she held her hand out the orb began to hover over it, the black energy peeling away in long tendrils that began to vaporize, leaving a locket hovering there. With a brief gesture of her hand, the locket fell to the ground and skittered across the pavement to rest at Sylvire’s feet. Etched into the locket was the name Nyx.
Image“Maleficus gave that to me,” Whisper went on to explain. “I don't know what its purpose is, only that I’m sure it is harmful in nature. Do with it what you will,” she said simply. “Truthfully? I do not think Maleficus has any intentions to pursue matters with the Orsa of Terminus. Twice he has been in Dinaeus’ presence and not made attempts on his artifact. He seeks my services, and Nyx’s demise, but it seems to be for his own intentions... Though these intents are perhaps no less of a threat - especially towards Dinaeus,” she said.
ImageThe entire time she spoke, she did not break that unblinking gaze of hers that was settled on Sylvire’s form, and already she was unraveling the strands of magic that made up the workings of the sorceress’ staff. It would take hours for her to tap into its full secrets, but she had recognized and determined two of the spells contained within it, the lightning bolt and binding chains. Both spells were simple, but the third puzzled her with its complexity and she continued her efforts to identify the nature of it.

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Script and Tiko)

Image"Thank you. It is appreciated." Sylvire gestured toward the locket and lifted it into the air, drawing it toward her carefully. She tucked it away in a pouch, briefly warding the leather with a containment charm before returning her attention to Whisper. "It pleases me to hear of conflict within the Orsa. We may be somewhat lacking in communication, but at least we are not fighting one another... well, to a degree." Sylvire frowned. "Marxan. I need to have a word with him."
ImageShe did not mention the greatest conflict, Whisper herself, though it hung in the air like a poison. "Do you have any further information to impart?" Sylvire queried, before pausing.
Image"Ah, yes. I also have a message to pass along, though both I and the one who gave it to me are doubtful you will respond to it. Apparently Miss Dae requests a meeting with you. Though she did not specify the reason, she stressed it was important." Sylvire didn't doubt that Scarlet's intentions were her own in this matter. Be they positive or negative, Sylvire did not know. But she couldn't help but speculate that the headmistress might not be looking to pat Whisper on the back...
ImageSomething seemed to occur to Sylvire then, and she frowned thoughtfully. "Incidentally, may I assume that I am speaking to Alessia? Elante spoke to me."
Image“Alessia… Yes,” she said softly. It wasn't often she heard her own name or had an identity apart from Whisper and Jacquelyn. In a way, it comforted her to know that she was identified as such. “I’m afraid Dallas has not been the only casualty as I’m sure you are aware." she said. “I can not help but assume any meeting with Scarlet is to seek revenge for the death of that woman... Sad to think that I do not even know her name.” She frowned softly. “They may not have died by my hand, but it was my pride, and my fear that allowed things to go how they did. I will suffer for my sins in time - perhaps this day even." She left the thought hanging in the air, along with her suspicions that Sylvire would not just let her walk away from here.
ImageWhisper paused a moment as she weighed her next words. “But as it seems you understand the nature of things, you understand that it is not just my life on the line if I speak with Scarlet. There are other lives that are innocent in these matters,” she said carefully. She would protect those under her care, to whatever ends that may lead her.
ImageSylvire simply nodded, and allowed silence to fall for a moment. "For what it is worth, Alessia, I admire your persistence in attempting to protect those people. However, there is a line that is drawn between good intentions and actual actions." The sorceress smiled faintly. "I'm sure you understand my reasons." she said, though it could not be said whether she referred to the words she had previously spoken, or the actions to follow.
ImageWhen Sylvire lifted her eyes from the floor they were alight, and with them came magic. From Sylvire's form burst a wide web of bright purple light, spreading into the air and enveloping the plaza like a net, but Whisper’s pointed studying left her prepared for what was to come. As Sylvire released her spell, Whisper uttered forth a single word, releasing her counter spell. It attacked the web of disruption upon activation, unraveling the magic and dissipating it. Bystanders turned in surprise to face its source, sounds of panic already beginning as the second spell released, and the bolt of lightning cracked from Sylvire's staff and tore through the air in seconds to strike Whisper where she stood.
ImageOr at least that had been the intention. Sylvire's eyes narrowed as the bolt passed straight through 'Whisper', instead striking the plaza floor and blasting a small crater where it struck. The displaced image vanished while Whisper reappeared, thrown to the side by the bolt that struck the ground beside her. She was unharmed, though singed and dirtied as she moved to push herself back to her feet. And that was the final straw. Panic set in across the plaza, as civilians scattered away from the starting battle with cries and shouts. The sorceress stood silhouetted against a bright glow of magic, power held in her ready to be directed into spells at will. She was not holding back.
Image"I am, to some degree at least, sorry that this must be the way things are, Alessia." Sylvire said, "I would feel better were I striking a guiltier side to Whisper. But you understand that this is necessary. I know that much. I do not expect you to lie down and surrender, but neither should you expect me to show mercy."
Image“I understand,” Whisper replied softly, even as Sylvire went into action.
ImageWith a gesture, Sylvire's eyes flashed brightly for a moment, and a globe of arcane light burst from her form. The attack was weak, but the area of effect was wide and expanded all around her - thankfully by now the civilians had cleared its area.
ImageWhile Sylvire released her spell, Whisper's staff pulsed and a dark orb expanded outward from her. Whisper's swift reaction engulfed the pair in a stationary sphere of magical darkness that encompassed a twenty foot radius around her. The spell afforded little protection from area of affect spells though, and the force of Sylvire's arcane burst knocked her back against the edge of the fountain where she sank to the ground with a grunt of pain. She was slightly dazed, but unharmed.
ImageWhen the dark orb expanded to encompass Sylvire, the sorceress reacted calmly. She allowed the darkness to wash over her, and did not run blindly to try and escape it. Closing her eyes, Sylvire focused on what she could sense.
ImageThe trickle of the water fountain alongside the distant cries of fleeing civillians, warning others away from the Plaza. A grunt of pain towards the fountain. A scraping as if of cloth on concrete. And magic - the artefact signature was still there. With the sound, the sense of magic, and a memory of Whisper's and the fountain's relative locations, the sorceress was able to triangulate a likely location.
ImageWithout moving, Sylvire released her final held spell, the binding chains shot up through the ground around Whisper. Though they were a foot off course, they quickly corrected themselves as they homed in on the intended target, and attempted to wrap themselves around her form, pinning her painfully to the floor with chains of energy.
ImageWith her true seeing in place, Whisper was quite capable of seeing through the impenetrable darkness around her. As the chains shot up, she threw her hands up and her staff pulsing once more. This time it was a ray of frost that burst forth, spanning outward in a cone to engulf the chains, leaving them slick with ice.
ImageA moment later, Sylvire waved a hand in an attempt to dispel the dark orb. With her chains acting as something of a focal point as to where to aim her unravelling, Sylvire targeted the threads of mana emerging from the staff Whisper held and attempted to slice them at their source with a carefully directed precision slash of pure mana.
ImageIn the meantime, Aiedai sat and stared directly at Whisper from her position to the far side of the fountain, seemingly unphased by the darkness. Her head was tilted slightly, as if evaluating the woman.
ImageWhisper rolled clear of the frozen arcane bindings and came to her feet as she steadied herself for but a moment against the fountain. Now that the civilians were clearing out out, the child's position became prominent. Whisper recognized Aiedai briefly from their encounter in the bar, and she took pointed care to keep her mental fortifications strong. It was difficult to maintain a strong wall while in the heat of combat, but mental fortitude was her strong point; for the moment, she seemed to be in control of her thoughts.
ImageMeanwhile as much as she loathed using it, her free hand whipped out to gesture towards Sylvire just as the mana keeping the orb of darkness intact was severed. Hopefully, her new location would prompt a surprise attack, if only for a moment as the infernal chain that was coiled around her leg writhed and curled up her body and down her arm before it lanced towards Sylvire like a spear shot aimed at Sylvire’s right shoulder.
ImageSylvire's senses and reflexes were honed to a point, and when the darkness fell, she opened her eyes. The light was momentarily disorienting, but still the elf caught sight of Whisper out of the corner of her eye, and turned to face her as the chain attack was launched.
ImageShe sidestepped, allowing the chain to pass, and before it could whip around to strike her again she brought her staff down in a scything arc. As the metal moved it gathered light, and by the time it made contact with the chain it was surrounded with enough magic to slice straight through the metal. However as Sylvire’s staff struck, it did not sever as intended; the chain seemed exceptionally durable against the arcane energies. As the items collided, the chain promptly entwined around the staff that had struck it, much like a serpent.
ImageNot pausing, Sylvire returned her attention to Whisper herself, muttering under her breath and activating one of her elemental spells. The ground beneath Whisper suddenly seemed to sink, the earth grasping at her legs to try and pull her down into it like particularly energetic quicksand. Then Sylvire began to approach Whisper with steady strides, maintaining a ready stance to react to any attacks but still closing the distance. She intended to finish this as quickly as she was able.
ImageThe ground giving way beneath Whisper's feet was an unnerving situation, but the girl kept her wits about her. Grabbing onto the fountain edge at her side, Whisper swiftly hoisted herself up even as she began to call her next spell to mind. Standing atop the edge of the fountain she held her hands wide as lightning arced from her finger tips. A moment later she released the spell, and the crackling energy erupted outwards in a wide arc of chain lightning that cracked through the air towards Sylvire.
ImageMeanwhile the infernal chain would be giving off a general sense of foreboding. With a second gesture of her arm, Whisper aimed to violently jerk Sylvire’s staff from the sorceress' grasp. Whisper didn't appear to touch it, but the chain seemed more than capable of animating itself. However a sorceress never abandoned her staff, and for good reason. Sylvire's staff was more than a pretty bauble. When Whisper's chain attempted to pull back at the staff, Sylvire directed her gaze on it, eyes lighting up with golden divine fire and directing a glittering beam from each orb towards the chain, scything a slash in the ground where they passed with the divine energies.
ImageIn sharp contrast to the previous arcane attack, the divine energy lanced through the links severing the item under the assault. The object fell away leaving Sylvire’s staff free once more while the remaining bit of chain rapidly recoiled around Whisper’s form, pulsing weakly. Jerking her staff forcefully back to herself, Sylvire directed her attention towards Whisper. Almost smiling, the sorceress lifted her hand and caught the lightning attack, gathering it in a ball in her hand and flinging it aside to crash into the fountain. Elemental magic was amongst her fortes. On that note, Sylvire directed her gaze at the fountain itself, the water within leaping at her command and scything towards Whisper, freezing as it moved through the air in an attempt to immobilise her. But of course Sylvire knew that Whisper had her own elemental magic, and such an attack would have little lasting effect, and so she accompanied the strike with a barrage of arcane bolts from her position. The dozen or so bolts arced away from her form to loop around and strike at Whisper from a variety of angles as Sylvire continued her approach, closing the distance.
ImageWhisper's eyes narrowed at the ease with which Sylvire deflected the lightning, but her posture remained one of confidence and determination. As the water rushed her form Whisper did not evade it, but rather swiftly manipulated it. Water turned to ice as it rapidly enveloped her, absorbed the impact of the arcane bolts.
ImageWith the threat passed that strange dark pulse from her staff came forth, rippling through the remains of her frozen tomb. The ice lanced out molding into an encasement of spikes. A moment later the entire thing shattered sending a spray of fragmented shards spiraling through the air in all directions, much like shrapnel.

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Script and Tiko)

ImageSylvire could sense that Whisper was not exhausting herself in the slightest, but as of the moment had rather more pressing matters to attend to, such as a barrage of spikes. The sorceress' eyes flashed once again, and she opened her mouth to spew a fiery jet out ahead of her path, melting the icicles as they flew, turning the water to steam. The flames would also lick at Whisper, though that was not their primary intention and the cone of fire dwindled before it enveloped her.
ImageThe sorceress' approach continued, and as she drew close she flicked a finger, shooting a block of rock upwards and towards the back of Whisper's legs with the intent of causing her to fall. Sylvire then took two long quick strides, one hand moving beneath her cloak and drawing out a glinting length of steel. With a grunt of surprise the stone struck Whisper's legs and knocked her from her perch atop the fountain edge. As the girl fell Sylvire plunged the longsword in a precise and swift strike towards her chest, with the intent of ending her life mercifully quickly. Her eyes betrayed sorrow, but not regret.
ImageWithout time enough to prepare a proper spell, Whisper fell back on instinct and reflex in an attempt to move Sylvire herself. Tapping into her own reserves rather than those that the staff granted her, Whisper let her divine energies fluctuate outwards. In an effect much akin to Sylvire’s earlier arcane burst, the air around Whisper's form rippled and wavered from the rush of magic that erupted from her in a brief spherical blast. As Sylvire was knocked back by the arcane burst, her feet left the ground briefly before elven agility kicked in and she landed firmly upright, digging in her heels to avoid flying too far. After the brief second needed to regain her balance, Sylvire darted forwards again. Meanwhile with her path clear, Whisper landed on the ground in a graceful tumble, coming to rest in a crouch, one hand on the ground to steady herself, her staff still in her other. Her clothes were smoldering, but she appeared unharmed.
ImageSylvire had every intention of ending this quickly, eyes flashing as the earth beneath Whisper grasped and bubbled at her, attempting to latch onto her feet and the hand she had placed on the ground. Whisper was crouched for but a moment as she made to dart to the side away from Sylvire's approach, only to find the ground softening beneath her once more. Without the fountain to give her the leverage needed to pull herself free, she found herself held fast. Sylvire moved in, and slashed with her sword with the intention of drawing the blade across Whisper's throat. The irony of the situation did not escape either of them.
ImageFor the first time a flicker of uncertainty crossed Whisper's eyes. The realization that Sylvire was very much aiming for a precise and fatal strike had settled over her; one mistake could well cost her life. Calling on elemental magic once more, her staff pulsed within her grasp and sent out ripples of magic through the earth. The ground beneath Whisper warped as she twisted and molded it to her uses. With a rumble, the space between her and Sylvire burst upwards as the flagstones gave way to the rock and earth beneath it. The erection of the stone wall drew on the earthen substance trapping Whisper until she was left crouched unhindered in a depression of earth.
ImageCasting her eyes about her surroundings Whisper started looking for potential exits or cover; places Sylvire would be less prone to use destructive magic. Several surrounding buildings caught her eye as she darted for the nearest one; a shopping mall complex. It was large, containing enough people to keep the level of magic being thrown about to a minimal level of destruction - if she could reach it.
ImageIn response to the raised wall of earth, Sylvire scowled. The sorceress extended an arm in an arc, and clove through the barrier in a cracking of rock, sending shards of it shooting towards Whisper's retreating back. Fortunately for Whisper, the majority of the wall was formed out of earth, and as it broke down most of it would crumble into a useless spray of dirt, but there were certainly enough rocks to make it a threat as the shards of fragmented stones flew after her retreating form. She was left with several gashes and tears in her clothing and skin, first blood between the pair, though nothing more than superficial wounds and grazes.The elf eyed Whisper's destination with distaste. Trying to use civillians as human shields was something that Sylvire did not like in the slightest.
ImageEven as she took off after Whisper, Sylvire gestured behind her at the fountain. The water within bubbled up and began to flow in a torrent through the air, cascading over both Sylvire's and Whisper's heads before looping around and down to slam into the ground and Whisper in a violent spray intended to knock the girl backwards, or at least halt her progress. Sylvire then drew a dagger from beneath her cloak, and after carefully aiming, released the weapon in a deadly accurate throw, aiming to sever muscle in the back of Whisper's knee to prevent her from running any further.
ImageThe water crashing down in front of Whisper, bringing her up short as she skidded to a stop, her arm raising up to redirect the water rushing at her. Rather than halt it, she parted it and allowed the momentum of the spray to slide past her while she spun back to face her assailant. With a gesture of her hand the water continued on its path, redirected towards Sylvire herself. The spray crystallized into shards of ice as it neared the sorceress, and the dagger, though initially unnoticed, was caught in the spray of ice and water, deflecting it from its intended course. Bringing the butt of her staff down against the pavement a tremor ran through the ground, roots and vines tearing their way up from the depths of the earth in an effort to entangle Sylvire.
ImageSylvire allowed the vines and roots to ensnare her for only a moment, before her eyes flashed and fire burst outwards from her form in a spiralling inferno, burning the plants to ash and freeing her in short order. At the same time this burst met the flow of water, melting the shards of ice and turning the large portion of the water to naught but steam -- though that scalded something dreadful when it blew past her.
ImageThe sorceress decided to attempt a repeat of an attack which had been effective earlier -- in a slightly more damaging variant. From behind and below Whisper, two spikes of earth shot up from the ground, sharp points angled up to scythe through her legs almost immediately upon surfacing. Crippling Whisper was a priority at this point to prevent her escape. And once again, Sylvire advanced swiftly on the girl, elven agility rapidly lessening the gap between them.
ImageWith a cry of surprise and pain Whisper dropped to her knees as stone spikes pierced flesh. Pain contorted her face as she caught herself with one hand. She could feel the rush of warm blood, and the sharp lance of pain left her dizzy, but with Sylvire rapidly closing the gap she needed to move swiftly. In a rapid recreation of her earthen wall from earlier, the ground shuddered and warped beneath Whisper as a twenty foot high pillar rose up, lifting the wounded girl into the air. The spikes tore free and melded into the pillar, causing another brief cry of pain to be drawn from her lips.
ImageHealing magic would be necessary if she was going to be moving, but nothing taxed her more than healing; especially healing herself. The divine energies swiftly gathered as she directed them towards the injuries, trying to will the severed muscles and sinew to mend, and for the torn flesh to knit closed. It was an agonizing process and far too slow for her liking - she only had moments to work with, if that. Beads of sweat formed on Whisper's skin as she measured up the jump it would take to reach the building from the pillar. It wasn't far, but injured as she was, it wouldn't be an easy feat to make, especially from a stationary jump.
ImageSylvire didn't pause at the rising pillar, not allowing herself to lose momentum, knowing that Whisper would not be downed forever. The sorceress leapt into the air and struck the pillar with a flat palm, magic coursing through her body and into the rock. For a moment she simply hung there, a visible shockwave pulsing outwards where hand met stone. Then the rock began to crumble. A pulse of force exploded through the rock at around the ten foot mark, shattering the stone in the middle and causing the top of the pillar to fall forwards towards Sylvire, who swiftly propelled herself out of the way.
ImageAs the pillar shuddered under the shockwave, it was now or never. Abandoning her healing efforts, Whisper called on the element of air to assist her. Gritting through the lancing agony from the only partially mended wounds, she made a leap for the nearby building. Curling protectively, she let a burst of arcane energy lash out around her in a brief nova blast to shatter a window on the second story of the building. With a sudden forceful gust of wind to add momentum to her leap she cleared the gap, though the landing was far from graceful.
ImageAs Whisper came to find herself laying on the floor amongst the shattered glass of the window, there was a lot of commotion and screams of panic from the people within the building that had been watching the fight. She rather wanted nothing more than to just lie there and catch her breath, but Sylvire wouldn't be far behind. Gritting her teeth, she wove her next spell; a thick obscuring mist. The fog billowed out from her form, rapidly filling the room, adding more confusion and panic to the scattering bystanders, and increasing the general chaos and mayhem of the situation.

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Tiko
(Post written by Script and Tiko)

ImageSylvire had seen the leap; heard the crash. The sorceress scowled. So be it - she would not let Whisper escape merely through the use of civilians as cover. The elf propelled herself upwards with a platform of earth of her own, and stepped gracefully through the window that Whisper had crashed through. Her eyes scanned the room searchingly, and she frowned as she found only fog. But as had been demonstrated before in this battle -- what one elemental spell did, another could reverse. Sylvire spread her arms wide, and parted the fog like the red sea, sending it billowing out of the window behind her and leaving the room clear.
ImageShe caught sight of Whisper quickly, and directed her gaze at the girl. In order to ensure that she remained on the ground, Sylvire's eyes lit up, and twin beams of divine power seared from them with the aim of striking Whisper in the chest. It was a maintained beam that, whilst not highly damaging due to Alessia's own divine nature, would serve to keep her pinned by the heat and force behind it until Sylvire could approach.
ImageWhisper was already pushing herself back to her feet as the fog parted only to feel something forcefully slam into her chest, slamming her back to the floor with a grunt. It took her but a moment to determine what was holding her in place, her eyes falling on Sylvire's approaching form. The situation was growing rather dire. What Whisper had in youth and a large mana reserve, Sylvire was more than making up with experience and precision. Her free hand closed to grip the beholder's spectacle tucked beneath her shirt. How easy it would be to just give it to Sylvire, but no. The things Nyx would do to her if she failed - she would rather die this day by Sylvire's hand than face Nyx's wrath should she lose the artifact. For the moment anyways, no further spells came from Whisper, her eyes set upon Sylvire.
ImageSylvire held her sword ready as she stepped beside Whisper. The gap closed to naught and Sylvire waved a hand, causing arcane ropes to shoot from the floor and tightly bind Whisper down, after which Sylvire ceased her onslaught of divine energies. By this point, Sylvire was low in her mana reserves -- but her staff still held a high amount of energy to be drawn upon. She was far from tiring. The sorceress lifted her sword over Whisper, and prepared to strike and finish her.
Image'Why don't you just kill the bad part?'
ImageSylvire hesitated, the brief contact from Aiedai -- standing now in the doorway to the centre -- staying her hand. 'I can't, dear. I do not have that power.'
Image'I can make it possible. They say I can. They say that in her world the many hers are no longer one, and that they see goodness in the hers that aren't quite her but are her at the same time.'
ImageThe confusing wording aside, Sylvire realised that Aiedai was right. Was it not she herself who had murmured about finding a psychic to force the Nyx out of Whisper in the past? She had not considered Aiedai, given the girl's instability, but the worst that could happen was Whisper would die. Which seemed quite likely anyway, given the circumstances.
ImageAnd so Sylvire did not strike, and instead she stared down into Whisper's eyes. Her eyes flashed purple, and she attempted to forcefully coax the girl into unconsciousness.
ImageAs Sylvire drew close, Whisper had been prepared to release a final spell, but something caused her to hesitate; Sylvire's blow was seemingly stayed. She was not aware of the psychic exchange that took place, only that the expected blow did not come. Memories flitted through her head of that night so many weeks ago, Sylvire extending a hand to rest atop Whisper's shoulder, a gesture of support and friendship met with the flash of steel in a bloody act of betrayal and deceit. Whisper's spell unraveled from her grasp, never coming to completion. She simply couldn't find it within her to strike out against the woman who even now seemed to be extending mercy - if it could be called that. Surely Sylvire knew what Nyx would do to her if she was allowed to live.
Image"Please, you don't know what she'll do to us," she whispered. The flash of purple was hypnotic, drawing Whisper into the depths of Sylvire's gaze, before with a sinking sensation that too faded from her perception.
ImageSighing, the sorceress gestured to Aiedai. "Come." she said simply, approaching Whisper's limp form - though she paused to collect the fallen staff; an interesting artefact for sure, that Sylvire would have to investigate in detail at a later date. When Aiedai approached, Sylvire waved her hand over the group, and a brief, bright and crackling arcane portal expanded around them, before fading away and taking them with it. Back to the library. To see what they could make of Whisper's head.

Image