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Revelation: The Cure

District Gamma

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a part of Revelation: The Cure, by Kurokiku.

Sometimes called the charlatan's district, home to the Assassins' Guild.

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Setting

Sometimes called the charlatan's district, home to the Assassins' Guild.
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District Gamma

Sometimes called the charlatan's district, home to the Assassins' Guild.

Minimap

District Gamma is a part of The Skycity of Revelation.

1 Places in District Gamma:

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Atalanza Berone [0] The terse, bitter assistant to Prometheus Vanderbilt.

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#, as written by Arke
The Sewers

Victoria was nervous. It didn't help the fact that the sewers smelled, bombs were everywhere, and the enemy was skilled either. She could handle a blade, she could handle poisons, but open combat was something she wasn't well versed in. Her master had sparred with her, and he had not taken her easily, but this... this was the real thing. Butterflies raged in her stomach, and not long after they entered the dank sewer system, they encountered a group of men and women. Amon took the initiative, silently executing one before she could even blink. She thought this was a good idea, but before she could follow, a confused melee instantly developed as the Assassins lost the element of surprise. Jumping back, Victoria drew her sword clumsily, surprised at the sudden zeal of the attackers. Hopping back, she used her body to shield the bomb specialist from harm, noticing a woman break through the line. She cursed softly, and swiftly went to engage her. Her slash was parried by the woman's fighting daggers, and Victoria nearly met a quick end had she not dodged the fatal swipe. Using her waist, she shoved into the woman, sending her sprawling. She quickly moved in, stomping on the woman's hand and causing her to drop one of the daggers. Rolling out of the way, the woman scrambled back to her feet, raising the right dagger warily.

She lunged forward in a quick slash, which Victoria jumped back from. The apprentice responded with a quick thrust, but missed. The woman took the opportunity and spun past her, attempting to gut Victoria from the side, but the Apprentice jumped backward. The woman then suddenly spun to quickly kill the specialist, but Victoria's eyes flashed and the Woman was on the ground as the Apprentice doctor was above her, socking her in the face with a left hook. Raising the short blade, she sunk it into the woman's neck and sliced cleanly through her carotid artery. The woman choked, gurgling for a few seconds before closing her eyes and letting the tepid stenches of the sewers overwhelm her. By then, Victoria was back on her feet, more sure of herself now. She contented herself with being the rear guard, or back-up guard. Once more, she maneuvered herself so she had a good eye on the bomb specialist and the line of fighters.

The Nexus

Taylor was impeccable in his attendance. Though other members got away with tardiness, his being present was often scrutinized to find some sort of weakness to discredit him. His old, weakened self had huge difficulties with this. Even as he strode through through the halls to his destination, he still can almost see himself shuffling through the halls layered in furs and leathers with a face white as a sheet. Chills ran up the noble's spine.

The room was a big a fallacy. Justice, in it's purest form would not need such formalities and positioning of the furniture. This corrupted sense of superiority held by the politicians in the Nexus was balanced on money. All the evidence, bagged or stashed was neatly gathered with Loki. Lord Chandler waited in the wings as a witness. Everything was in place, and all they needed to do was execute it. However, considering the heavy bias in this room, it boiled down to who had the quickest tongue. It would be a large stretch to say that Loki could be of any help there. She was the brains, the princess that tugged on the strings but she could never speak publicly and win favors. Taylor liked to think that he could, but it was an acquired skill. He wasn't that different, aside from the fact that he was very young. Very, very young compared to most of the members.

Even as the trial began, and the Princess began her part of the case, Taylor felt a sinking feeling. Loki wasn't wooing the crowd, and even she knew it. Eyes were drooping slightly, and the subtle huffs of men who disagreed but did not speak could be observed. Her whole pre-planned speech had to be cut short in order to give the prosecution a fighting chance. This shouldn't be possible. Justice listened to every word, no matter how monotonous it may sound. There shouldn't be a need to twist words in a argument to get people to listen. This was the government of Revelation- a hive of the lucky and the arrogant. Pushing the cynical thoughts away, Taylor responded to his call and rose. This was his last chance. This was the big one. Caelin Taylor stood up, his soft green eyes reflecting calm passion.

"Ladies and Gentlemen. Revelation is a city that took to the skies, blessed by our Goddess in the hopes that we were different from those who perished long ago. Our flying city, one that dominates the heavens over the barren wasteland below is a reminder to what we owe our own values toward, and how we should never squander the gift we received even now. Not even now, where current events have reached a peak far beyond what our ancestors bulled through in the past in order to survive. Justice. Honor. Sincerity. Prosperity. One of the four values we treasure and use as guiding lights every cold morning. Today, the prosecution accuses Prime Minister David Gilgamesh of the vile sin of Human Trafficking, Corruption, Kidnapping, Multiple Homicides of the first degree, Blackmail and Inciting widespread property damage."

This introduction was not an attempt to shadow Loki, oh no. It was to get the crowd up, lift their heads and eyes to the noble that gazed back at them with hardened emerald eyes that displayed utter honesty. "You see the evidence before you, laid out by Her Highness. I now call a proper witness to the stand, a victim of Gilgamesh's silent tyranny over the people of Revelation. Lord Chandler." As he finished, the old man stood up, and made his way over to the stand. Taylor thought he looked absolutely euphoric, finally able to exact a small bit of revenge on Gilgamesh for taking away his son. When the old man had finally sworn in and taken a seat at the witness stand, Taylor began to speak.

"Lord Chandler. Explain to us why you are here today."

Chandler cleared his throat. "To accuse Gilgamesh and those in close alignment with him of blackmail and kidnapping. He kidnapped my son and used him against me for his own means."

"What makes you think he is the one who performed this?"

"He used my son as leverage. As many know, I am a fairly strong moderate. He uses my influence for his own gains."

Taylor held up the blackmail letter. "Do you recognize this?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"It is the letter left to me when my son was kidnapped."

Taylor opened the letter, and read the contents. "Support Gilgamesh in his endeavors. Now, Lord Chandler, how are you sure this was of direct influence of Gilgamesh?"

"My son was kidnapped right out of his own home in District Alpha. Even if he or she wanted to, no petty thief would be able to do that."

"Thank you Lord Chandler." Taylor said quietly, sealing the one of the prosecution's best attack. As Chandler moved back, Taylor looked up discreetly. He thought he saw something move up there, but decided his mind was playing tricks on him. It was too critical of a stage to be fooled by an illusion now. "This letter warranted enough alarm for an informal investigation. By the constitution, I investigated the disappearance of Benjamin Chandler with the help of a group of contacts who found the boy in a cell in the sewers." Taylor paused. He didn't want to hand the names of his allies out haphazardly. "The boy was found in a chamber in close proximity to the Gilgamesh Estate. Further investigation revealed a secret passageway into the Gilgamesh estate as explained by these documents." Taylor held the papers high, as if everybody could read the words in crisp detail. His face was a mask of conviction.

Slapping the papers back down on the table, he faced the Magistrate "Is this the kind of person you want in charge? A man who is willing to kidnap, blackmail, and potentially murder to consolidate power? Is this Justice? Is this what Revelation wants to nurture with a smile? No. Those who resort to such lows need to be punished. There is no justification for such serious breaches in the law, there is no excuse for the intent to kidnap an innocent child to gain influence." It was Ezarael's turn.

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Sewers

Damn them to the surface world! Zade’s mental tirade started rather suddenly upon catching sight of the reinforcements headed in their direction. This was insane, this entire plan was suicide. They were out-gunned, out-strategized, and damn Gilgamesh was going to wind up in charge of the entire city! She’d known it, truly she had. That man got away with everything, and now they were setting explosives and Gamma and Delta were going to bite it for Elisia-knew-what insane reasons those pompous assholes in waistcoats had planned, she damn well knew it.

Seething as she was, she nearly missed the blow dart exiting the pipe her downed opponent carried. She’d certainly missed it being retrieved, and she swore under her breath, crushing his windpipe with a foot and tracing the trajectory with worried eyes. It hit Victoria and not the technician, and while logically this was the best outcome after a complete miss, she didn’t really see it that way. She’d always been the sort of person to think that treating strangers like you treated your friends and allies was bullshit, so obviously she was none too pleased with the development.

The doctor’s apprentice seemed able to handle it though, and Zade herself was forced to go back to the fight, running up to try and clog one of the sides of the back-to-back formation Amon and the other guy had assumed. She wasn’t really sure what his name was, but it didn’t matter right now. Laying into the first one to slip through with extreme prejudice, she wasn’t quite able to avoid the spray of arterial blood from the vein underneath his armpit (that’s what you get for raising your sword so dramatically, fool) and her entire right arm was bathed in it. Figuring she might as well make use of the reduction in friction, she increased the velocity of her spin, catching the next man in the kneecaps before she heard Victoria’s desperation and made the split-second decision to retreat slightly to come up even with the blond girl.

Nodding tersely, she took up a position on the left of the physician, weaving in and out of the approaching pair of men, sliding under swings aimed at her and peppering them here and there with slices too quick to be too deep, but distracting enough to qualify as infuriating. “Tell me when that thing’s definitely not going to blow,” she informed the tech tersely.

Right now, she really needed to light some things on fire.



Gamma, above the sewers

Pandora flinched from the disdaining look on Aram’s face, and wondered if perhaps she had done something amiss. Oh, stop it! There isn’t enough time to worry about offending anyone right now! Really, sometimes she was certain she needed to get her priorities straight.

The battle quickly devolved, and she was very aware of the fact that she needed to be looking out for both the ones with weapons and the ones without, as there was certainly no truce with either side as far as she was concerned. Was it ironic that she’d always tried so hard to be as inoffensive as possible and now probably had more potential killers than either the other magi or the guardsmen? Probably, but it was a rather painful irony, and she didn’t much fancy dwelling on it. Instead, she focused her attention on moving the still-living but injured as far away from the main crush of battle as possible so she could close the biggest wounds and furtively hope that she was striking the right balance between using her energy and doing enough to actually save people. It wasn’t an exact science by any means.

A barrage of ice shards whizzed by just over her head, and she had to duck around several duels in-progress, but truly, whether for better or worse, Pandora’s considerable tendencies towards intimidation and fear were suppressed by the sheer urgency of her task and the importance which she assigned to it, and guardsman and mage alike were often one moment laying prone and dying on the field only to be gripped under the arms by a person much smaller than them and dragged bodily elsewhere, if they were deemed safe to move. Most of them fell asleep shortly after that, a small mercy that she would not forgo, but there were few who instead felt the soothing touch of healing magic and were able to watch as the mortal injuries disappeared. These, too, were then sedated, to prevent them from rejoining the confrontation.

But obviously no such small effort could ever be enough, and so many more died that the air was sick with the stench of it. In time, she made out a shout from Aram, and her blood momentarily froze in her veins. The Cure. They have the Cure. Her hands clenched into fists at her side, and Pandora visibly trembled. More than the thought that she would be hit and unable to continue, more than the primal terror of losing one’s essence (as magic was for a mage), more than any of it was one horrifying piece of understanding.

This had been a battle, but it was soon to be a slaughter.

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The Sewers

Dammit, another one! This was beginning to become absurd. It was as though at least three of the squads they’d been warned of had converged upon them, and while she would readily admit that she’d not been subjected to the worst of that (Durwald certainly had- funny how she remembered his name the second she saw him go down), she was by no means an experienced slayer of men, and she wasn’t sure how much longer they’d last if it continued.

Still, these three seemed to be the last in the wave, and she finally heard the words she’d needed for a while now. The bomb had been defused; it was time to get cracking in the way she knew best. A sonorous boom reverberated up her legs to the pit of her stomach, and she knew without having to guess that one of the bombs had gone off. Part of her wanted to panic, but she clamped her willpower down over it and returned to the matter at hand. They’d deal with that when they weren’t fighting for their lives.

Rolling between the fork of one guy’s legs, she came up on the other side and reached for the portable flame-device she’d acquired from Loki, who’d apparently special-ordered it fro that Vernazza man. A couple depressions of her thumb were all it took, and the wicking embedded in a divot in her ring-blade was set alight. It was kept away from the handles by a flame-retardant wrapping for a good few inched on the sides of them, but most of the thing was now on fire, and Zade felt irrationally pleased by this.

The same could not be said of the assailants, and she supposed it was only natural for people to be leery of open flame. Having spent most of her admittedly short life learning how to do this, her own fear had evolved into a healthy but by no means consuming caution, and she whirled the thing around with the same speed and purpose as she had before, propelling it towards the first guy without much extra thought. He jumped backwards to avoid it, but overcompensated and actually bumped one of his comrades, who’d been trying to flank the two women. Pressing her advantage, Zade stepped forwards and kept on swinging, eventually driving her target away from the main confrontation. The one who’d been hit was still getting up, which she hoped would give Victoria enough time to deal with the third alone for a while.

Parrying a horizontal slice, she took a blow to the forearm from a second, concealed blade and hissed, lashing out with her legs to try and kneecap the enemy, who got caught on one leg. Her aim had been off, though, and he kept his stance without much difficulty, so she passed the ring from one hand to the other and withdrew a small dagger from her boot. Still spinning the flaming circle in one hand, she attacked with her off-hand first, engaging the hidden blade. She wouldn’t be able to keep them locked for long, though, because his strength was clearly superior to hers.

So Zade thought about it a little and angled her blade so that his slid off with all the force he was bringing to bear, and spun lightly to drive the ring into his side, exposed by his overzealous effort to muscle her downwards.



District Gamma, Aboveground

Pandora, easily-distracted and not terribly mindful creature that she was, had no idea that her life was even in particular jeopardy until she turned around to see Danterus removing a blade from his midsection with what she supposed must be a great deal of pain. She flinched sympathetically anyway. His words, though, were greeted with a firm shake of the head. “I can’t leave, not now.” Not when they have the Cure. Not when the people that I have known since I was a child are dying. Danterus was not the first person to imply that she didn’t belong on a battlefield, and he probably would not be the last, but all had been and would be met with the same obstinate resistance, all the more stubborn for the gentleness with which it was handled.

Of course, then the young man dashed forward again, and she pursed her lips, brows furrowing. He really shouldn’t be- she realized the irony of the thought and enunciated a quick string of healing and fortification spells under her breath instead, working to stop the worst of the bleeding and renew his energy. Chances were, he’d need it. The distance cast was taxing, but not unmanageable, therefore easily worth it. She doubted she’d get him to stay still long enough to handle it properly, anyway.

The first rumble sounded beneath her feet tremulously, and Pandora’s cerulean irises were rimmed with sclera for a moment of shock-dread before she threw up a shield around herself and ran. The rumble proved the harbinger of something much worse, and when the deafening boom left her ears bleeding, she panicked, instinctively encasing the twenty or so feet in any direction in that selfsame barrier, grounding herself in one spot and feeling the magic escape her fingertips at a rate she wasn’t prepared for. Still, she was not calm enough to stop it and it just kept going, keeping the shield up in spite of being battered with chunks of concrete larger than she was.

Her vision went after her hearing, though from an entirely different cause, and blind and deaf, she could do no more than feel herself empty of power, limbs shaking until the drain at last ceased, the shield wavered and collapsed, and Pandora breathed a great sigh of relief. The pressure eased, and after a few moments of gathering herself back together, she was able to blink away the black fog over her eyes and look around.

She almost wished she hadn’t. There was a clear delineation in the ground where the ground stopped tearing up, debris flung to all sides but none landing within the safety of her small bubble. All was silent as the ash floating in the air, and she coughed weakly, not terribly surprised when the action brought up blood, which spilled over her lips onto the concrete. Wiping her bottom lip with the pad of her thumb, she stared for a moment at the bright coloration it acquired, then dropped her hand, not really able to keep her arm up that long.

She was still shaking violently, and whenever she moved too much, she threatened to black out, waves of nausea rolling over her with a kind of certainty she’d almost forgotten about. It wasn’t often that she pushed herself this far, and truly she hadn’t meant to this time. Though… she probably still would have, if she’d been given an actual choice. But oh, how it hurt. As best she could, she lifted her head to try and look around, only barely able to avoid vomiting at the sight of more mangled bodies than she’d care to count, her poor patients among them. The radius hadn’t been wide enough…

Planting both hands on her knees, she pushed slowly into a standing position, swooning dangerously with the effort but managing to maintain some measure of uprightness. After that, it was as much a matter of putting one foot in front of the other as anything, and she eventually reached the area where most of the survivors still stood at loggerheads. Azazel, she noted, was deceased, leaving the magi with no leader, and the soldiers looked hardly any more organized. It was exactly what she had known she would see, what she already had seen, but as usual, such things had given her no assistance, only more heartache.

For once, she couldn’t reassure herself that everything was going to be okay. Her ability to do so had prevailed through some of the most horrible things anyone would ever see, and she’d still managed to come out of them with a sunny disposition and an irrational amount of hope. But right now, in the aftermath of the explosion as people innumerable lay dead and dying and others still had the look of men and women who would see it continue until the last one standing, when confronted with that, even her optimism flagged with sheer exhaustion. As she was really the only person moving much right now, quite a few people were watching her, and there was something about this that she didn’t like. No, stop looking at me! You wouldn’t listen before, and I have nothing to say now!

For what was there to say to this? There were no words, and tears were so useless her eyes seemed incapable of producing them. This was beyond that, too. Breathing still ragged, she drew herself to her full height, which admittedly wasn’t impressive in the slightest. Glancing first to the magi, she fixed them with a hard stare that didn’t belong on her face. “Are you satisfied now?” She rasped. “Your kin are dead and still oppressed. But then, there are many people who could have told you that’s what happens when you trust David Gilgamesh, if you’d thought to listen.”

“And you!” she shouted at the guards, not really caring whether or not this made them angry at her, because she was spent and beyond whatever small instinct for self-preservation she’d ever possessed. “I expect that you were just following orders, weren’t you? Is it easier to sleep at night that way? When you can blame the suffering you inflict on your superiors? But you can’t! Each and every one of you will dream of this day, over and over again, and you’ll stew in it, you know you will. Because in the end it was your sword that killed that boy, your bomb that destroyed your comrades with your so-called enemies! And some of you still want to do it! Stop, just… please stop. Just… go home to your families and your lives, and know that none of us, and none of your dead allies, ever truly can. Please, everyone… go home.”

A sob wrenched from the mage’s throat, and she dropped her gaze to the ground. “I can’t watch you kill each other anymore,” she muttered to herself, then tried again to limp forward, this time to carry herself off the battlefield and away. Everyone else had been right. Everyone else was always right. She had no business being here. She was weak-hearted and incapable of dealing with it.

It was about five paces forward that she finally lost consciousness and collapsed, the strain of the magic too much for her to continue.