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Post by Es Kauvrian on Nov 16, 2014 22:10:16 GMT -5
Location: Steam Tunnels Access, Transport-Side
In Es’ cast-off glow, Fureya and Dragos would sudden realize that they were no longer standing in the Cache. Instead, their environment had shifted to that of the steam tunnels beneath Vascxious Sigma – in particular, those residing just below the transport station in Eighth District. Es carefully unclenched her jaw as she looked around, rolling her shoulders back lightly in a signal for Fureya and Dragos to step away on their own. Motioning to a set of stairs up ahead and to their left, Es began to walk forward, stepping off a bit of steam tunnel floor that looked suspiciously like a circle of the stone tiling from the Cache.
Falling into an easy stride, Es began to split her focus. On the one had, the Arc refocused her energy, the green glow shifting from lining her entire body to just that of her right hand. Inverting the energy coalescence, Es reached her hand into the now-floating orb of emerald energy in order to pull a long, white cylindrical device from it. The cylinder looked as though it were made of bone, with a root-like winding detail across its surface and with the cylinder spanning ¾ the length of the woman’s forearm and 3/4ths the diameter of her wrist. The strange cylinder would be carefully slipped into a loop at Es’ belt even as the woman had already begun speaking, the green light fading entirely by the time the trio reached the bottom of the stairs leading up into the city itself.
”There’s little chance that Viers won’t sense us coming, and we don’t want a scene. Unless either of you have an alternate idea, once we are in the city I believe we should attempt to corner Viers through splitting up enough that you two can both approach him from alternate directions and drive him toward me.”
As they stepped up the stairs and finally reached the city streets, Es would stop at the edge of the crowd. Before them stood the raised platform of the elevated tram, which was surrounded on all sides by squat, stone retail buildings that quickly gave way into the winding, half-rusting metallic latticework of the numerous manufacturing complexes of Eighth District. The crowd in front of the Tram stairs was dense, and the whole square between the trio and the platform was densely packed with people, mostly workers coming too and from their various shifts, or sitting on strategically-placed benches and eating food on their lunch breaks. Es narrowed her emerald eyes as she looked past the crowd, and when she failed to make out the signature she turned to Fureya with an inquisitive look.
”Are you getting anything?”
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Post by Rosencrance Viers on Nov 17, 2014 20:55:11 GMT -5
Rosencrance Viers moved with the crowd as he stepped off the tram into eighth district and took a moment just past the vehicle’s door to look around and get his bearings, letting those Vascxious Sigma citizens still on the transport stream by him onto the platform and down the nearby stairs. The space in front of the Arc was fairly open, though crowded with people – the tram system in Vascxious Sigma was a public service, and therefore no ticket-takers or turnstiles obstructed passengers from getting to or leaving from the platform. The structure itself was over two stories off the ground, raised to the point where the ever-present steam fog was more prevalent, casting the air in a smoky haze not that dissimilar from the interior of the average ground-level bar. Made of grated steel painted a deep, eye-catching red color, while there were plenty of scrapes and scuffs that revealed the real grey color of the metal scaffolding underneath, Viers always managed to marvel at how well-kept the structures in the city managed to be, especially considering that something over four million citizens rode the tram system every day according to Vascxious Sigma’s information terminals. The ten-person-wide stairs to Vier’s immediate front descended one level and met up with the stairs from two other adjacent platforms, the three flights merging into one giant set of stairs leading down into the open courtyard below. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to find anything else new and exciting on the tram platform, the Arc slid past a couple discussing their evening dinner plans and back into the slow-moving crowd, carrying on with the flow of riders as they walked downwards in order to disembark the transportation infrastructure completely.
As he made his way downstairs, occasionally tightening his grip on the parcel under his arm just to make sure it was still secure, Viers couldn’t help but marvel at the cityscape stretched out before his eyes. Once he left the more-concentrated cloud of steam hovering around the platform Viers was able to make out the massive hub of manufacturing that was Eighth District – past the large square that acted as a public meeting place and a demarcation between the cityscape ad the tram station lay miles upon miles of sky-high buildings built in staggered succession, all made of stone and steel and all fairly awesome to behold. Some of the buildings contained living quarters, especially those behind Viers in the areas loser to the center of the city, but as the district stretched further out from the central hub of the Tower, the buildings were more and more the home to advanced manufacturing centers, one stacked atop another in a fabulous display of efficiency. As the Arc moved along with the crowd past the bottom of the stairs and to the edges of the square, Viers couldn’t help but silently give credit to the city’s benevolent overlord. While Viers had never been one to be a fan of Alpha or his designs, the Arc couldn’t help but give the city’s dark master credit for his creations efficiency – compared to the last time Viers had been in the Sigma city, the landscape in front of him was a veritable paradise of technological achievement, a city so efficient that it made the grander, more-established metropolis of Azaleth City look positively primordial in comparison. Briefly, Viers wondered how the train system, with its pedestrian lines criss-crossing the districts like human arteries and the commercial lines plugging into the manufacturing heart of the city like great, unstoppable veins of progress, managed to so consistently run on time. Operationally, the city must have been a nightmare to administrate, and yet its public works somehow ran like clockwork. Viers wondered if there was some greater magic at play in that fact than just good administration, but quickly dismissed the thought – while it was possible that Alpha made the whole city run by the power of his magical acumen, the Arc didn’t really have a stake in its operation either way.
For now, Viers was simply counting on the massive, teeming life-force of the city and its people to obscure him from view under waves of normalcy while he planned his next move. Walking up to a static informational map near the plaza’s center, Viers refocused his attention on doing just that: the convoluted streets and alleyways of the city’s manufacturing hub would be a perfect place to get lost, and as he traced a line over the street-map with his finger, a plan for doing so began to form in his mind.
Deep in the heart of the manufacturing plant buildings were a series of overflow hotels, likely put there to give workers who came into the air dock in Seventh District a convenient place to stay until they left the city. If Viers could make it safely to one of those smaller buildings amidst the sea of towering monoliths he would be able to get himself off of the street and into a safer space. Several side-line trams ran to that area of the district, but Viers didn’t relish being packed into a metal tube like a fish in a sealed drainpipe – he would take the long, convoluted way around in order to stay mostly out of sight.
The Arc sighed as he traced his finger over his chosen route: Viers would have to lay low for a day or two, until he was confident that the proverbial ‘heat’ was off him, but doing so didn’t get him any closer to accomplishing his goals. After such a setback, it would be that much harder to get his plans to fix his blade in motion again. Resolving not to let the time go to waste, Viers decided to try and get in contact with Floraelia while he was staying in the hotel in order to check in and make sure they were still on for the potential project with the Ouroboros Corporation. Which, of course, meant that he had to come up with a viable reason for his disappearance, a task the Arc wasn’t exactly relishing at the moment. The man didn’t try to suppress the dark look that had come over his face as he peered around the side of the map kiosk towards his intended destination – the crowd was beginning to thin out because of the latening hour, and as the street-lamps came on the Arc realized he would be better off in motion again . . .
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Nov 17, 2014 21:00:26 GMT -5
For actively trying to restrain from internalizing too much of his attention, Dragos might have appeared to be doing a poor job of it from the outside. He had all but fallen entirely silent beyond whatever shuffling noises might occur from the length of is cowl moving over the metal and leather beneath it, and his already stone-like features showed no indication of loosening for the purpose of speech. Turquoise eyes, lacking any trace of the glowing and golden hue that had come to be more the standard than their natural state, were narrowed in focused observation, darting back and forth between Es and Fureya as either spoke. That Es was considering the likelihood of an incident between the Assassin and Dragos to any great length escaped him in favor of his more immediate observations; he had nowhere near the capability that Fureya possessed in sensing and tracking their target, nor did the situation seem to allow for a great deal of democracy in discussing the mechanics of how they would approach the situation.
Quiet and still, a statue with a heavy-handed grip on the shorter figure of Es’s shoulder, he waited until Fureya finally made her way over and placed her hand on the woman. The rigidity of the Assassin’s posture didn’t escape him, but his attention to their current objective—paired with the earlier note of trying not to allow the earlier conflict to affect him at present—had him ignoring it just as effectively as she was tried to ignore his own presence. Oh yes, this was bound to go swimmingly. Even if his attention were at risk of straying from their current objective, beyond the lingering curiosity at the true nature of Es’s identity in relation to Achreios, the activation of the woman’s efforts to transport them ensnared him. Careful to keep his own energetic signature to a bare minimum, he spectated the process with the full extent of his sensory capabilities nonetheless as she worked, noting somewhere in the back of his mind that it had been more than quite some time since he’d last used any such method for travel.
Muscles tightening along an already rigid jawline as the current of what felt like electricity moved through them all, and the grip of his digits on the woman’s shoulder tightened by the slightest amount reflexively in preparation for what was to come, given the build of sound around them. He was not altogether unprepared for the sudden burst of what felt like movement, but his chin dipped and the bend of his knees increased just enough to better secure his center of gravity. When the movement had stopped, he lifted his hooded gaze to glance around them before immediately letting it rest on the tile at their feet. Curious. Without being at the driver’s seat and doing his best to stay as small a blip on anyone’s radar as he could, he could only speculate, but gathered that the woman’s method of transportation might not be entirely different from his own. Feeling her powerful shoulder’s shrug beneath his grip, he was quick to loosen it and let his hand return to the confines of his cloak.
Eying the last manipulations of the Mage’s apparent stand-in, his visible attention returned to her own gaze when she started speaking and, with little trouble given their difference in height, made short work of falling in step with her, slightly to one side and a pace or two behind. Her plan sounded reasonable enough; he doubted that the Mage—or his chosen avatar—would allow this Viers to slip past them if he was hounded into confronting them by Fureya and Dragos. Not to mention, as stated before, they didn’t seem to have a great deal of time to stand around discussing the best strategy. Ascending the staircase along with the other two—lest Fureya was so stuck on keeping her space that she wanted to stay in their underground origin point—he paused alongside Es as they reached the summit and looked at the crowd beyond. His immediate response was to tighten his jaws once more; he’d longed for the freedom of fresh air, yet his discomfort with heavily populated locales washed upon him quite suddenly. He decided to put it aside for now, focusing instead—since he was unable to track their target as Fureya was—on taking the spare moment to consider the nature of the two signatures that the Assassin had described. The flesh around his lips tightened, and before he was entirely aware of it, he’d turned his hooded features slightly in the direction of the two women in his company and started speaking.
“If Viers is sharing a signature with another source, what is to stop that source from tracking him even if we do successfully capture him?” He blinked, and then turned his head in the other direction to idly scan the crowd. Surely at least one of the other two had considered that this may be a trap, or even a decoy, but if this other source could track Viers just as the Assassin was now, would bringing him back to the Cache not expose its location? He waited for some retort relating to his ignorance on the matter, and continued to regret his having spoken in the first place. At least in that, he could imagine he wasn’t the only one.
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Post by Fureya on Nov 17, 2014 22:43:39 GMT -5
The Assassin was pleased to note that there were no ill effects to her insides: the transport method left nothing to be desired. Well, she would be pleased if she weren't so focused on re-orienting herself to the Leviathan's new vantage point. There was a split second of confusion as the cold touch of her Other hitched and expanded outward into the new locale. The scent was exponentially stronger and Fureya found herself swallowing compulsively against the sudden watering it caused. The lines of her features became markedly harsher and took on an unmistakeably predatory edge: it was just the cost of keeping track of something so enticing while also trying to retain functional control and ignore any other distractions. A deep inhale helped her center before she split her focus again. The smaller signature was remarkably close and it was somewhat unexpected that Kauvrian would be able to drop them in that accurately. Maybe she'd marvel at the Arc's ability to take direction and act on it later, but probably only to contrast it to her comrade's distinct inability.
By the time Fureya collected herself and reacquired her target Kauvrian and Dragos were moving toward the stairs. She was the last one to follow by necessity─ unless that white-haired whelp preferred her to accidentally eat the target and lose him completely. She flanked Kauvrian on the side opposite to Dragos and watched the crowd hungrily.
”He is very close. Within this same crowd.”
Those alien, mercurial eyes stared eerily, fixed on where she could actually watch a faint wash of dark violet rise like a beacon. Her jaw tightened as her nostrils flared slightly. They needed to keep moving fast if she was expected to continue to operate under such high pressured conditions.
”The center. There are too many exits. We might not be able to drive him directly here even if we could get behind him quickly enough.”
Fureya paused when Dragos actually spoke up and there was a pronounced stiffening to her posture when she recognized his voice. Sure, he brought up a valid point─ one that deserved a response.
”I will take it from him once we have him secured.” The liquid manner in which she turned to face him and pin a blind, unfaltering stare in his direction was incredibly feral. As if what was involved in that removal was more complicated and more visceral than simply eating it. As if she meant to dismember the other Arc rather than make him untraceable. She watched him only long enough to make her point before returning that unblinking stare in the direction of the source and wait for more direction from Kauvrian.
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Nov 18, 2014 21:08:15 GMT -5
Es Kauvrian considered her options carefully. By nature, the Arc’s tactical mind automatically began running tactical simulations on the current situation, seeking to unearth some obscure tactical advantage that hadn’t yet been thought of and find the best manner by which to put it successfully into action. Es had already begun to analyze the space surrounding their target in order to identify the best points to strike from, potential escape routes, and predictions as to just what Viers might do in any given situation. Es had always operated in this way, and it was her tactical mind that had saved her from death countless times while she was an Arc Commander, yet even as she went through the war-room possibilities with lightning speed, Es’ gut feeling told her that she was approaching the situation all wrong, and the sensation caused her to pause her analytics for a moment and try to look back at the big picture.
Es knew that her tactical, rational qualities hadn’t been the reason the Mage had chosen her to help find Viers: any tactic she could think of, Achreios could come up with something better, and therefore it didn’t make any sense for him to rely on her for skills he had in spades. By that logic, the Mage hadn’t brought her into this situation for her technical prowess; it was the Arc’s other skills, those the Mage didn’t often use himself, that made her the right person for the job. Es possessed what could be considered human skills; personal relationship abilities, patience, and a naturally-disarming quality to her personality and presence that Achréiøs would always, by the very nature of his existence, lack. As Es began to consider her mission through the lens of those skills rather than those of her wartime self, her objective no longer seemed to be a subdue and capture operation; instead, the situation with Viers began to take on aspects of a mission focused on rescuing a soldier from behind enemy lines, one who was confused, disoriented, and in need of both guidance and assistance. The change in mental focus caused the Arc to suddenly relax, draining the muscular tension from her form as she prepared for peace instead of war.
Es kept herself still and silent as Dragos and Fureya both spoke and Es continued to explore plausible options. Dragos brought up a good point that Es had only briefly considered, though the Arc did not get a chance to address it personally before Fureya herself offered up a solution. While the Assasin’s solution was simple and elegant, the bearing that Vier’s ‘trackable’ status had on their current situation might be more complex than simply removing an energetic homing beacon from him before returning him to the cache. The Arc had to consider it carefully as an important variable, and as Fureya fell back into silence, Es’ strong voice cut through the din of the crowd at a surprisingly-low volume level in order to propose something a little different.
”Whoever marked Viers did it without his knowledge.” Es would assume that neither Dragos or Fureya would have to ask why: with Viers hiding himself, he was temporarily energetically blind, meaning he wouldn’t be able to sense the outside energy marking him as a target. Unless he had asked his energetically-visible associate in order to lay an elaborate trap for Achreios and company (an idea that Es heavily doubted, given her knowledge of Viers), the male Arc likely thought he was undetectable, by the Mage’s forces as well as the Tower. Yet, here he was, lit up to both like a holiday light. ”That means he is being tracked by someone else, and we just happened to be able to pick up on it. He may not be running from us at all – or, if he is, we might not be ones tracking him who are currently the most threatening to him.” Taking Viers by force ultimately might prove to be a counterproductive strategy, a fact that was causing Es to quickly work through an alternative option that did not require violent action. ”We can use that knowledge to our benefit.”
Es had an idea of how to do just that. As she peered through the roving, parting waves of human beings shifting through the squyare in front of them, a small smile flitted to the Arc’s lips, and after meeting the gazes of both Fureya and Dragos in turn, Es began to walk into the human waves directly towards the center of the square, speaking quietly as she did so. ”Viers may run if you both come up on him too quickly, but he won’t sense me coming. I want both of you to hang back for no more than a minute before slowly approaching Viers – I will approach him first and try to talk to him. If I can get his attention, he won’t run when you both approach.” Assuming the pair had stayed in formation with Es, the Arc would turn her head to speak directly to Fureya. ”If you sense a sudden spike in my energy, I want both of you to rush in immediately. For now, stop and hold back – I’m going to see if I can talk some sense into our rabbit-like friend.”
Assuming there were no clear objections, Es would increase the speed of her stride and move quickly into the crowded square, pressing past person after person as she deftly approached the spot where Viers was most likely to be, at the square’s center. After only a moment Es would catch sight of him, standing calmly by the map terminal, tracing the route he planned to use in order to get to a safe hiding place again. Once she spotted him, Es would deliberately angle her trajectory in order to approach the male from the front, making a point to intersect his line of sight. Viers would be capable of actually seeing and recognize Es when she was within 60 feet of where he stood, and as soon as his eyes would meet hers, Es would stop in her tracks, carefully displaying her open hands by her sides in a gesture of peaceful approach even as the crowd passed amorphously between them. Standing still, exposed and seemingly ill-prepared for a fight, the Arc would carefully wait for her former comrade’s reaction . . . A reaction she anticipated would be, in an overall sense, favorable.
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Nov 25, 2014 16:48:42 GMT -5
Visibly, the largest portion of his attention appeared to be on the crowd. Given that he was uncertain of the Trade City's capability for metaphysical surveillance, he was leaning toward the paranoid end of the spectrum regarding the use of any such means, himself. Could he be blamed? The Mage’s actions, mysterious as they might have been in regard to a possible shift in identity to an extent he found troubling, spoke volumes on his seriousness in the excursion. While he’d gone back to consider the point again and again, he didn’t feel like taking chances just yet. Not when he’d finally been able to leave the Cache, surrounded by the denizens of what he assumed to be yet another blind society. Functionally, Fureya’s sensory capabilities outstripped his own by Arcanum-enhanced leaps and bounds; any effort toward the same purpose at his part--for the time being, at least--would be redundant and fueled only by personal curiosity. He might make a point to understand the specifics of the situation later, in how the Leviathan could track their target with what seemed to be minimal risk if only because of great effort on Fureya’s part, but right now was different.
Right now he restrained his thoughts from trailing into any greater ponderings. Silently, almost motionlessly, he took a slow, deep breath. Formlessness. The tightened muscles of his jaws relaxed the faintest amount, and curled digits loosened in their grip to open at his sides. Where the sounds of the Vascxious Sigma surrounded him, he internalized them in a way less abrasive, and far more familiar. The mingling voices of people replaced the chattering of insects. The sounds of machinery and city bustle transitioned to the wind, and the rustling of foliage overhead. Where he might have been overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of sensory information to process, he categorized each and every aspect in a way that enabled him to best perceive each as its own aspect. It occurred in the span of a breath, but the result left him feeling fortified. In this forest of concrete and metal, he was still just as much the alpha predator as he was before, and his most basic methods of perception heightened to just such a bestial level. Fureya’s response seemed sudden to him, and in forgetting everything else, his mostly concealed features snapped to her in response. Shadowed eyes narrowed at her stance and posture, recognizing such feral implications and her attack not half an hour ago. If she was defensive or abrasive? Good, so long as she could focus on the task at hand. He failed to even give her a nod in response to her answer, but turquoise hues looked into her own with a sharpened, predatory glare.
Es was the next to speak, though he had settled into his instincts a bit more fluidly with the passing seconds. His chin turned her way, but his gaze didn’t leave Fureya until the very last moment; would she think him wary of her lashing out with another attack? Gazing toward Es for only a moment, his favored roaming as she spoke, just as keenly listening to her words as he was to note ever nearby scuff of boots against concrete, sudden change in direction, and stiffening of muscle in response to the group. It was a lot to take in, but either should know the Son had, if nothing else, the capacity to put a lot of focus into something. When he chose to.
Without showing his disapproval for all the good it would do, he was slightly put off by Es’s proposal. Weighing their chances, it wasn’t that he found the idea to be the least likely to succeed, but that it was so very unlike what he thought the Mage might propose. That it was so uncharacteristic of the tone in which they came here. They came as hunters, not negotiators. If it worked, so be it, but he wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic, and was only now aware of the urge to squeeze flesh within his grip, and break the bone beneath it. How long had it been since he’d hunted?
“Fine...” His voice, low in tone and volume, was nearly a growl at this point as he followed just enough to remain in earshot of Es. “...but we can’t waste any more time than that. If he tries to stall, we need to make a different move. Fast.” To his credit, the thought of commandeering leadership in tactics hadn’t entered his mind, and was only speaking on his own trail of logic. They needed to spend the least amount of time here that they could, and while negotiation was favorable to outright--and very noticeable--violence, if a quick rush of effort could end the confrontation and get them out in time, it was preferable to losing their target and being forced to spend a greater amount of time in the City pursuing him. He gave the Mage-Woman a glance as she started to merge into the greater part of the crowd, but soon resumed cautiously scanning it. Any body that strayed too close was carefully shifted around with a slow grace not entirely fitting to his large frame as he waited, hands relaxed beneath that cloak, but spring-loaded for action. That Fureya remained at his side was accepted without further contemplation or observation, unless she didn’t. Disagreeing with tactics or not, she would stay, or she’d regret not doing so.
...11, 12, 13...
He’d give the woman forty-five seconds before he started moving. No more, no less.
...26, 27, 29...
Did he glance at Fureya, or at the crowd beyond her? The troubles between them notwithstanding, he needed to be alert to any change in the situation beyond the crowd, and the Assassin was his link to that.
...43, 44, 45.
He stepped forward, the gripping bottom of his boot slowly rolling over the concrete as he moved ahead with calculating precision in navigating the crowd. Careful not to rush, and to weave in and out when he must instead of outright glaring down someone until they moved from his path--only once or twice, really--his spherical span of attention honed slightly to his front, in the direction Es had moved. In seconds they would be close enough to see, and without a word to his cohort hopefully still at his side, he slowly reached back with his right hand to let it rest at the rear of his waist, beneath the thick clubbing weapon he’d been tinkering with earlier. The folds of his cloak did him the favor of concealing the motion and posture entirely.
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Post by Rosencrance Viers on Nov 26, 2014 9:07:12 GMT -5
Rosencrance Viers had finally settled on the route he planned to take through the maze-like alleyways of Eighth District when, while glancing around to make sure he had his correct bearings, he saw her. The man stopped cold as his eyes met with Es Kauvrian’s – seeing her alive was a proverbial blast from the past, and were it not for the current circumstances surrounding Viers the Arc would have momentarily wondered if he was dreaming. Viers knew he wasn’t, and her presence there was a calling card for someone else, which raised the issue of how the fuck they had found him so fast. The Arc almost would have laughed – the universe apparently hadn’t caught onto the changing state of what he wanted, and fate was responding to his prior wish of tracking down the Mage instead of rolling with the punches as they were thrown. That meant that Viers was going to have to adapt his strategy . . . and fast.
The Arc didn’t move towards Es when she stopped, instead keeping the distance between them open in order to give himself more options. He did grin at the muscle-bound woman however, shaking his head in apparent disbelief even as he released his hold on his internal energy, letting the Arcanum in his body flux back towards a pure energy state from the physical existence it had been held in.
“Did he think I’d be more agreeable if he sent you instead of coming himself?”
In a way, Achréiøs’ strategy worked – Viers had always respected Es for her reasonable nature, and while they had never gotten as close as perhaps Viers himself would have preferred, the two had related well with each other in some semblance of a mutually-respectful manner. It wasn’t the fact that Es was there that was bothering Viers so much as the nature of the Mage’s choice to send her – Achréiøs only was so delicate with his planning when something big was going down. Why was the Mage in Vascxious Sigma? Did he finally want it back after abandoning it for so many millennia?
Rosencrance Viers was thinking at light speed. If Achréiøs was here to make waves, that meant there really was no safe place – the Arc had been operating under the assumption that Achréiøs was only resident in Vascxious Sigma by coincidence, not grand design, but Es’ presence proved otherwise. That meant in order to stay off everyone’s perspective radars Viers would have to leave the city entirely, a move that was clearly impossible at the current moment. Viers was being forced to pick sides, and that choice was easy enough – better the homicidal Mage that you know then the demonic mastermind that you don’t.
Looking past Es, Viers could make out the others she had brought with her on their little Viers-hunting excursion, especially considering that the Arc was tapped back into an energetic connection to the outside world. Es felt energetically like she always had, but the other two tickled the man’s Arcanum sense like Achréiøs did, meaning they were both Fresh. Fureya, who Viers could make out in the distance, even through the crowd, was one the Arc knew pretty extensively, but the other one, the male, was unknown. Three on one hardly seemed fair – as a matter of fact, Es herself seemed a little like overkill to Viers, but the fact that so much manpower had been put into bringing little-old Viers back to the Mage was also telling of Achréiøs’ thought process. Somehow, the act of picking up one wayward Arc had become first priority to Achréiøs, and that alone gave Viers enough leverage that he might have a position from which to negotiate from. The man sighed – he could recognize when to fight and when to go along and see what other options there were later, and as much as there was an internal sense that made Viers want to lash out and run, the Arc knew that it would be a pointless endeavor. He would surrender, for now, and see how things turned out.
It only took Viers a manner of seconds to work his mind through all the possibilities, and therefore before Dragos had even begun advancing after Es, Viers would already be closing the distance between himself and his old commander. The Arc locked his violet gaze with the emerald one opposite him and smiled somewhat reluctantly as he came to stand opposite Es.
“My stock must have gone up in the world if he sent you three after me. Where’s he hiding, anyway?”
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Post by Fureya on Nov 27, 2014 15:21:39 GMT -5
The Assassin's metallic stare didn't linger on eyes the color of seawater no matter how much challenge or defiance surfaced in their depths. In fact, it might provoke Dragos more to be apparently dismissed─ his answering predation given the attention it was worth.
Perhaps it was misleading to chalk up her dismissal as intended to elicit any sort of response from her comrade, whether visible or internalized, when the truth of it was that Fureya was acutely aware that as more time passed with the Leviathan engaged and actively hunting the less she'd be able to effectively split her focus. As much as she'd like to have a pissing contest with the Son of Celesin it was really not the best time─ she was already struggling with keeping the Leviathan from so much as breathing at the dense crowds moving around in the hub─ to finish what she'd started in the Cache. Kauvrian resumed speaking and Fureya, at least, half-listened to her, filtering out what didn't require immediate attention or a response. Basically, almost all of it was tuned out: wait here one minute and then slowly approach unless energy something. . .
Fureya's jaw clenched as her Other lashed, sprawling outward and permeating the area with dense metaphysical substance. Though the heavy scent hadn't dissipated one iota there were others the Leviathan grew aware of the longer it remained leashed and unable to enact its true function. The Assassin had already started to slowly drift away from the other two; she was still in a flanking position, but was instinctively isolating herself. It wasn't out of any misguided sense of protecting them. Dragos was inedible and Kauvrian probably had some means of protecting herself considering she was another Arc. It was a grounding exercise: the vague sense of solitude helped her concentrate and repress how bloodhungry she was becoming. For clarity's sake, the average person─ the kind that was currently milling en masse around them─ smelled like blood. No wash of magic to add any flavor. Just coppery, warm blood. Forcing her Other to keep close track of a signature that was absolutely off-limits for the foreseeable future only made other, less useful sources more appealing. It was a very tenuous line Fureya walked, internally directing the Leviathan based on the needs of the situation versus its and really her own hunger: it was never a long term solution. If they couldn't resolve this quickly something or someone was going to be ripped apart metaphysically and Fureya's commitment to keeping their cover would be tested.
When Dragos made his almost-growling reply a corner of Fureya's mouth twitched. She happened to agree with him and the resulting irritation at recognizing it set her teeth on edge.
As the Arc moved with purpose toward their target Fureya continued to stray away, carefully and , truthfully, absently placing more distance between herself and the Dragon. Within the first ten seconds Dragos counted off the Assassin was already upwards of six or seven yards away, casually drifting with the changing directions of the people in those crowds. What could Dragos really do about it that wouldn't draw attention to them? It might set him on edge, certainly, but Fureya also wasn't actively trying to completely separate from him either. Well, that wasn't entirely true. With no one talking she could devote more to watching the deep violet that radiated from the center of the massive platform. Without a serious interrupt she'd already be intently looking in Viers' direction so there would definitely be no missing it when he suddenly lit up like a bonfire. Delicate points bared behind charcoal fabric as she began to move purposefully toward the source like a moth drawn to flame. The look she shot in Dragos' direction was the only gesture she'd offered suggesting that they should move now, rather than when his internal counter was up. Otherwise, he'd be left trailing behind her like a lost puppy when she closed in on the two Arcs.
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Nov 27, 2014 17:13:00 GMT -5
Es Kauvrian kept herself still as Viers finally made eye contact, ensuring that her body language was as nonthreatening as possible, but when the male Arc spoke, Es relaxed her posture. Viers was somewhat unpredictable, but the Arc had learned over time that he was fairly easy to read once one had an understanding for his outward mood. Unlike most she had encountered, Viers had little genuine ability when it came to projecting a truly false emotional face, and while she was well aware that he was unsettled by the whole dynamic of his current situation, Es also could tell that Viers wasn’t planning on putting up a fight.
”He was correct, though, wasn’t he?”
Es smiled slightly as the man began t approach her. The Arc knew that his sudden spike of energy, which was a releasing of his intense hold on himself once Viers had decided he had been ‘outed’, might cause Fureya to react, and therefore Es carefully glanced over her shoulder to where the Assassin was moving through the crowds and would meet her eye, ensuring with only a glance that Fureya would understand that Es was in no danger. Turning back to Viers, she stepped close enough to him that the two might be able to speak more quietly across a shorter space, and therefore draw less attention to themselves in the crowd.
”He is near. Viers, I believe it is imperative we get you to a safer place than this – the reason we were able to find you so quickly is because you were marked energetically by whomever you were with earlier today. That means we weren’t the only ones who could be tracking you.”
The Arc female’s emerald gaze fixed Viers’ own violet one intently as she felt Dragos and Fureya come up behind her, as they neared, she would turn quickly to the Assassin.
”Remove the energy signature from him. We need to get back underground.”
Next Es would turn to Dragos, carefully eyeing the man before giving him instructions in a similar manner.
”Keep an eye out and be prepared to run interference until we get back underground. I’m counting on you to be our first line of defense should anything go awry.”
Es didn’t like the strained, violent desires she could pick up from the Dragon’s body language – Viers had shown himself not to be a threat, but the situation was still delicate enough that an overzealous trigger-finger could quickly escalate things into a state of chaos.
Kauvrian fixed Viers in her careful gaze again. It had been a very long time since the two had encountered one another, and while Es herself had undergone a myriad of changes, both in her general physical makeup and her personality, Viers had stayed relatively the same the entire time they had known one another. That made things easier, but Es herself had to wonder if the man had progressed over his exceedingly long lifespan, or if his personal views were still such a hindrance to him that he had been trapped in a static, reoccurring existence.
”I know what you are worried about, but I can assure you he will be willing to deal. Trust me to get you out of here – I promise you won’t be under threat from us.”
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Dec 3, 2014 0:22:42 GMT -5
He could feel his anger trickling through him like a quiet, yet very threatening, leak in a dam as the course of events began to deviate from how they were supposed to go. Rather, as Fureya did different than she was supposed to do. Whether it was by perceiving the deviation from instruction as some kind of personal affront to an assumed secondary leadership status, or by pure offense at the purest form of idiocy in Fureya's choices as the seconds ticked by, the Son found more of the attention he'd so keenly adapted to monitoring the more mundane of his surroundings directed at the Assassin, to the point that he was only faintly aware of the low, definite growl that rumbled in his throat. Very far removed from a grumble of irritation, and equally in line with his adopted predatory perspective on the task at hand, the vocal indicator would surely fall on deaf ears nonetheless.
It took every ounce of control that he had for the twitching digits of his left hand not to snap out like a serpent and apply an already blood-thirsty grip to the woman's own extremity. What in the everlasting fuck was she doing? His brow furrowed with silent, though berating puzzlement. Was the ever-so-obedient pet so defiant that the moment she could do so without any action by Es or Dragos drawing attention to themselves she would let her defiance go so far as to handle things her own way, compromising the entire excursion? Did her understanding of the situation, potentially regarding Es as her own individual entirely separate from the Mage's persona--a possibility that Dragos considered as well--lead her to think she could test the dynamics of their little hunting pack? He almost shuddered in restraining his desire to inflict immediate and thoroughly devastating punishment for such a transgression.
He was falling behind, and the outright volcanic glare returned to Fureya's glance likely did little good in transmitting even the smallest percentile of his absolute loathing when she directed at him.
He closed his eyes for the span of two seconds, exhaled in a forceful sigh through angrily flaring nostrils, and stepped forward, moving to follow through the crowd with slightly less fluid grace than he might have otherwise, given the effort that was undertaken to restrain his anger in favoring any semblance of the attentive monitoring of his surroundings. The result was little more dramatic than it might have been otherwise--full-on glaring three or four individuals out of his way rather than one or two--but he wasn't comfortable with the changing approach. His only pause was to address just that note and, in the minimal span of time it took them to near their Mage-Woman compatriot and target, he took the risk of dividing his attention between his surroundings and venting the anger he had been doing so well at controlling.
The result was that, as they reached earshot of the two ahead of them and effectively merged on their location, Es's observation of Dragos's body language was all the more punctuated. The same could have been said for their target, but Dragos didn't have a particular problem with that. No matter Es's approach, the real message in their being here was demand on the Mage's part, not request. How odd to be on this side of the line.
As instructions were finally issued, Dragos's visible attention lingered on Es for only a moment, then on Viers for much longer. Any opinion on physical observations of the man were moot; what mattered was what he could do, and what he would do. That the Son suddenly felt quite...handled by the particular phrasing of Es's instruction--questioning if it were his own perception that made the issuing sound like she were addressing a child--did little to help matters, but he let the affront roll over him for now, to be addressed later if he so felt like it. Instead, glancing to Fureya, The Lone Wanderer, for an update on what she was doing, he let his mind form the faintest connection with perceiving the metaphysical world around them. Adding on a layer to how he observed reality around them seemed deafening at first, but actually did well to divert his attention from how personally he was taking this new course of events. Unaware of either the Mage-Woman or Viers's abilities, he could not safely assume the best combative dynamic that they would form as a unit should the need arise, but going on the older dynamic of the Mage, the Assassin, and himself, he knew roughly where his strengths were. Though he lacked the precision and efficiency of the Mage, his usually blunt approach tended to be the most directly destructive method, and at any sign of things going afoul, he could at least give any interlopers on their excursion a great deal of resistance that must be handled.
Quiet, still, and momentarily restrained, he monitored their surroundings with less and less muted capability. He might have been wise to pay more attention to the threat that Viers himself posed, but Es's phrasing once again had caught his attention. She assured him no threat from them, which the Son largely suspected acted as its own warning to her two compatriots. That was just fine, so long as she was prepared to handle the target should he step out of the bounds she had so politely set for him. If she didn't, she had a span of three seconds to do so before Dragos did. In the meantime, he waited, increasingly aware of just how...spread out the Leviathan was becoming. The glance he shot Fureya was notably...quiet, compared to his characteristic expressions. Something--aside from her other tom-fuckery--was off.
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Post by Rosencrance Viers on Dec 4, 2014 11:57:06 GMT -5
Rosencrance Viers laughed in spite of himself. Es was right – he was more prone tp be agreeable to the female Arc’s tact than the Mage’s lack thereof, though Viers hardly thought it normal for Achréiøs to consider his targets ego needs when making tactical plans. This whole situation was far too different suddenly, and Viers wasn’t sure where he fit with everything yet. The man knew he would have to tread very carefully.
”He usually is.”
Viers watched out of the corner of his eye as the other two Arc’s advanced on him from various sides. Fureya was given, a long, hard look complete with an accompanying smirk, a locking of eyes that also would allow her full view of how that smirk dropped as Viers heard Es’s explanation of how he was found.
Keretheriel marked me! The Arc hadn’t even considered that the Siren would have done that, but in his mind he quickly replayed their interaction at the elevator as he was leaving the apartment. Viers had already shut himself down in order to hide, so he had no way of sensing the woman’s metaphysical tag. Simultaneously. Viers had the thoughts of That bitch! and a sense of admiration at the woman’s craft. She had wanted to be able to find him later, and had effectively promised that she would. Now I know how she intended to do it.
But that left the immediate question of why. Sure, Keretheriel cut herself as a fairly territorial figure, and she might have just wanted to finish what they had started in the apartment so she could get some satisfaction, but that seemed way too short-sighted for as composed as Kereth had become over the years. Viers couldn’t imagine that was all there was too it, and her somewhat mind-altered state at that moment made that course of action almost more unlikely – she might have been more compulsive, sure, but Viers didn’t see that kind of planning as a compulsive act – it was deliberate. That left also the issue of Kereth’s apparent connection to the Magistrate. She chose to mark him just before going to see Alpha, being personally-escorted by one of the man’s agents. That denoted that either Alpha had a negative interest in Kereth, or that she was somehow connected to the Magistrate amicably. Originally, Viers had assumed the former, but as he replayed the interaction quickly in his mind he began to wonder if he had misjudged the tone entirely. He had been operating partially on his previous understanding of Kereth from several lifetimes before when the woman had clearly changed dramatically since then, both in personality and scope. Virianus’ influence could have been partially responsible for both.
If that was the case, the Kereth may have been planning on using Viers as a bargaining chip during her meeting with Alpha. Viers knew his connection to Achreios could have potentially made him a target for the Tower, which had been exactly why he was so careful to stay off of their radar. But if Kereth was with the Tower, staying under the radar would then be impossible, regardless of her ability to energetically track him or not, and in turn that meant Viers was suddenly faced with a potential opportunity.
“No, wait.”
Viers was looking at Fureya, but spoke to both her and Es as the Assassin stepped into the current conversation. The Arc needed Fureya not to disrupt the tracking energy until he could convince Es of the sudden plan that had sprung into his mind. Achréiøs wanted something from the man? His importance, and therefore his bargaining position, had just potentially increased tenfold, and Viers wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip away. The Arc stared seriously at Es, stepping close enough to the muscled woman so that his words wouldn’t carry back into the crowd.
”Look, I don’t know what Achréiøs is doing here, but it has to have something to do with the Tower. I can’t explain everything now, but you can’t remove the energy signature yet – we might be able to use it to our advantage.”
Viers glanced toward both Fureya and the unknown male on his other side in turn, taking the time to train each of the in his suddenly deadly-serious violet gaze.
”Wherever you all came from is heavily shielded, right? It must be – otherwise I would have found you all by now. The tracking energy won’t be able to reach to anything from there, and even if it could, we can create a secondary set of interference around it to scramble it out. I can explain everything when we are safe, but I know the Mage would want us to leave it based on what we might be able to do with it.”
Violet eyes met fiercely with emerald green ones. The Arc’s demeanor had sobered up so rapidly that the small-statured man seemed to have actually grown in the past minute, making his projected self more closely align with the Viers that Es undoubtedly remembered from the old days.
”If you want a chance at the Tower, this is it. Take me back to your hiding place and I’ll tell you what I mean.”
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Post by Fureya on Dec 5, 2014 15:43:27 GMT -5
Internally, Dragos might have been experiencing viscera-melting rage at Fureya's distaste for staying close to him while they were in mission-mode, but the Assassin was not only too distracted to notice his ire but, even if she had, she would have had no sympathy or remorse to offer him. Whether or not his stare could melt flesh when silver met turquoise Fureya did not react visibly beyond a subtle tightening of her jaw before she continued to advance toward their quarry.
The closer she got, the more tempting the mark Viers carried became. The Assassin didn't try to disguise the predatory edge it brought out in her to be tracking it with the Leviathan─ it just required way more attention than she could afford to offer and still retain control of her Other's leash. Truthfully, she hadn't even spared the focus to find out whether the Dragon was actually following her: she rationalized that if he didn't, he would when Es' imposed time limit was up. Who was really the obedient pet if that was the case. . .
Metallic eyes reluctantly left the male Arc, shifting to watch Es as she issued the order to take out the mark. Full lips stretched into a smirk under the cover of the scarf she turned to the amethyst-eyed nuisance─ his instantaneous change in expression turning her own smirk manic─ and started to relax the tight grip on the Leviathan.
No, wait.
Leather creaked audibly as Fureya's hands very rapidly turned into clenched fists. The mechanics of loosening her directives for the Leviathan and then having the instruction change before it was fully realized was intensely jarring. The Assassin took a physical step back and froze, withdrawing to what was happening internally to a point where Viers' next remarks weren't able to be effectively noted. The resulting scream that deafened her and the intense metaphysical roiling of a response were almost beyond her specific capability to remain the stronger force. An unfiltered, feral hiss was spat from behind charcoal silk before Fureya turned sharply away, seething as precious seconds ticked by and she awaited new direction. The motion spoke of violence and barely-contained rage─ the depth of which, for the first time, silenced the Leviathan mid-tempest. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, thrumming in her chest as if the thing sought to leap from her body. Liquid iron filled her nose and the realization that she'd bitten her lip hard enough to make herself bleed became a footnote in the grander struggle. Viers might have taken a moment to include her in his entreaty but the Assassin had already turned her back, blindly staring into the crowds while she settled who was in control of what internally. His words were vaguely penetrating.
Rapidly, she breathed through her Other, letting the body of it expand and immediately caught the trail─ one that led to the Tower─ of the larger source.
”Whoever or whatever marked him is at the Tower.” The words were spoken through clenched teeth and offered to Es to act as she thought best: Fureya was more than aware that any decision-making she made wouldn't be reliable, but she could volunteer the information she knew to be true.
Unless someone stopped her, which was really a terrible idea right this second, Fureya continued to edge away, using physical separation to fortify the mental distance she was fostering in order to keep the Leviathan silenced.
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Post by Es Kauvrian on Dec 6, 2014 12:33:25 GMT -5
Es Kauvrian’s expression changed so drastically when Viers said to wait that anyone looking on at the exchange from the crowd might have guessed that the woman had been possessed by some deamonic presence that just happened to be wandering by and wanted to make some chaos. The Arc’s widening eyes and baring teeth created a forceful enough shock that it would make just about anyone but Viers visibly back off, and was reminiscent enough of a certain red-headed someone that Dragos, were he looking on carefully, would be forced to wonder just how not Mage Es actually was.
It wasn’t unlike Viers to change on the fly, but what he was proposing was dumb, even by the male arc’s lofty, pre-established standards. True, they had been meant to bring him in, and yes, he was right in his assessment: the fact that he was someone being tracked by the Tower could, at the very least, be used in order to lure some operative into a trap and gather more information about the city’s elusive leaders. But without understanding the method of the tracking Es was not about to risk the safety of the Cache, their one true stronghold in the middle of an otherwise extremely hostile area. The female Arc would suddenly be right in Viers’ face, the immensely-tight grip of her left hand instantly exacting itself on the man’s shoulder. Es’ voice dropped.
”I’m glad you’re comfortable, Viers, but do not for one second think that you are capable of giving orders to anyone right now. I didn’t physically incapacitate you because I didn’t want a public scene, but I will make one if I have to.”
Es was aware of Fureya’s reaction to the sudden halting, and moreover Es knew what it meant. Fureya was integrally useful, but bringing her into this populated an area after all the recent ups and downs in Celesin, combined with the issues in the cache itself, had been poor planning. The Arc suddenly had a set of very real issues on her hand: Fureya’s limited amount of personal control, the potential of Viers’ deception, the fact that the Tower was tracking Viers specifically, and Dragos growing anger all combined into a very chaotic, very dangerous storm that was brewing faster than Es could hope to adequately control on her own. It was time to act, and the female Arc didn’t give a fuck what anyone else around her thought about her choices.
Keeping her grip tight on Viers, Es turned to Dragos before the other Arc could respond.
“Keep him from running, and get him to talk. I’ll join you as soon as possible.”
Reaching out suddenly with her right hand to grab onto the front of Dragos clothing, Es’ emerald eyes began to glow brightly green as she accessed her energy. The woman momentarily didn’t care who might pick up her actions, nor what the crowd would say about what was about to happen – focusing on a specific point she knew well, Es energetically connected to the distant location, forced her energy shadow outward to surround both Dragos and Viers, who she was still holding on to, in radiant green light, and then used the created anchor point to pull both men through space as if they were on the end of a rubber band, snapping them from their current location in the Transport Station to a desolate, protected spot of open mountain range at least fifty miles outside of the city limits. The two men would seem to collapse into tiny points within the transport station, the emerald glow snuffing itself out after a bright flash, leaving Es standing in Eight District next to Fureya, her hands still out like she was grabbing the two men. The Arc dropped her arms and stepped directly behind Fureya, now putting her hand on the woman’s shoulder
”Come on.”
Without waiting for permission, Es Kauvrian would enact the same set of energetic connections she had with Dragos and Viers – only this time, her target was the Cache itself, and her and Fureya’s physical bodies were what was being transported. The emerald glow would quickly surround both women, and n a matter of seconds, Es and Fureya would be standing back were they started in the dim light of the cache, leaving the nearby crowd in the transport station to gather around the spots of empty space where four people had stood only minutes before.
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Post by Dragos Syrkhan on Dec 9, 2014 12:46:40 GMT -5
The Son was a building storm of frustration and anger; in a metaphoric sense, he struggled with his own inner beast similar to the Assassin. Granted, his own subconscious was nowhere near as hungry as Fureya's metaphysical glutton, but every bit as intent on seeing blood. Despite whatever arguments she and Es might have, he had done well to control himself and focus on the matter at hand, only allowing what trickling amounts of his ever-present, deeply entrenched rage might be beneficial to fueling a sudden response, or sharpening his perspective on the matter. Between incidents still recent enough to leave freshly healed scalp tissue still tingling with the memory of their being torn asunder, the Assassin's currently uncooperative nature, and Es's killjoy approach of calm reasoning, he had plenty of fuel for that fire. The one thing that held him at bay was the fear of the unknown that he faced. Whatever it was in the Trade City that had the Mage cautious enough to take a form so convincing that both of his students pondered if it was him at all. What the Mage might do if it were his actions that causing this excursion to end in failure.
He repeated his one-word mantra within the confines of his thundering mind again and again with increasing urgency, clinging to the idealized concept like a raft amid a raging hurricane. Just as every heartbeat circulated his blood throughout his body, ever second enriched the violent intent of his desires. The order had been for him to stand guard, and while he allowed what he perceived as a particularly demeaning choice of words to roll off of him for now, he found it difficult. He wasn't incapable of logic despite himself, and his deduction disagreed entirely with their current approach. The Mage had opted for stealth; while an initial onslaught from and external source may not be beyond his ability to handle, what in Es's mind thought that he could handle what the Mage was reluctant to? More than stealth, time should have been their most pressing issue. The less time they spent in the City, the greater their chances for survival; the more time they spent, the higher the risk they ran of drawing attention to themselves. Of letting their target slip away. Of Fureya's odd behavior cresting into another loss of control. Of him doing the same. Swift, immediate action was the best action, and anything less was barely short of total incompetence.
He froze when Veirs suddenly decided that he had enough agency with this trio to reason with them. To stall. Turquoise hues widened, the abnormally bright glint of gold irrefutable as lids pulled back to widen on their target beneath the brim of his hood. This was exactly as he had predicted, and while he couldn't blame the man's sanity for trying to squirm his way out of complete abduction by the Mage's agents, the thought didn't enter his mind. The Son had time enough for one step toward Viers, and one moment of the leather of his gloves groaning under the immense pressure of his tightly clenched fists before Es just...changed. Every bit as attention-grabbing from his sentry duties as Vier's oily stalling, so to was the woman's immediate harkening of Achreios's presence. Dragos remained put as she changed her approach, both because of the surprise of her shift, and how much he very much agreed with it. His attention to protecting them from external threats was all but gone, as was his distantly echoing curiosity over the Assassin's increasingly abstract behavior. All that mattered was that the situation had quite suddenly changed, and--without ever taking his gaze from Viers--he was going to be the one to address it.
He didn't stop Es in some alarmed reaction to her sudden grab of his attire, nor did he stop to consider how her interpretation of her command might differ from his own. He had his focus back in its entirety, and it's rage-sharpened point was directed fully at Viers. His only response was a slow, but very slight lean inward, and the shifting of booted feet as his center of gravity lowered itself. His cloak hid his hands, leaving the primary focal point of his form that gaze locked on the shorter man's own as he towered over both him and the woman currently working at sending them...somewhere. Elsewhere; it didn't matter. Just as green light engulfed the pair, Dragos's lean reached a stopping point, frozen as if in the middle of an attempt to whisper some foreboding secret to his target. His prey.
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Post by Rosencrance Viers on Dec 10, 2014 17:29:57 GMT -5
Rosencrance Viers’ entire body tensed as Es’s eyes widened. The Arc had seen that look enough times to know its meaning – while Viers might have felt he was proposing a perfectly reasonable compromise that made perfect sense, given the situation at hand, to Es’ mind the male Arc was trying to take charge of the situation away from her. She had gotten this way several times before in their millennia-old dealings, and more often than not, Viers had always chosen to back down rather than face the woman’s wrath directly. Viers was confident in his survival ability, after all, but he had also seen what the woman was capable of doing with her bare hands, which had very quickly been put into action to put a firm hold on his shoulder in order to anchor the woman’s threatening advance. Viers, while not afraid of Es directly, knew that he was suddenly towing a very, very delicate line, and the man once again was forced to start rethinking his strategy, especially with the taller male figure at Es’s side eyeing him like a hungry dog preparing to eat its dinner.
Es’s words made Viers’ eyes narrow. The Arc didn’t bother trying to step back – Es’s hold on him kept him from moving, and he knew that breaking away at this particular juncture would be seen as an act of aggression. That didn’t mean the man didn’t have something to say in return.
“I respect you, Kauvrian. But don’t push me – I’m trying to make this work out for all of us.”
As it was, Es ignored him completely, turning instead to her male cohort even as Viers opened his mouth. The Arc caught the words and clenched his teeth together in preparation of responding, but Kauvrian was too fast for him – before Viers could even manage to voice an objection, he felt his body being pulled across the boundaries of space, and within seconds, Viers was in a new location altogether.
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