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Post by Es Kauvrian on Jun 14, 2017 23:45:44 GMT -5
Es was already watching the door when their pursuer announced herself. Though not what the Arc had been expecting, Es didn’t for a second assume that the diminutive woman now standing in front of them was in any way not dangerous.
”So you did.”
Kauvrian kept the shield she had picked up in her left hand and drew one of the small swords with her right, her feet sliding easily into a launch position as she prepared for a tactical advance with Dragos. However, the Son seemed to have other ideas, and though Es had no real idea why Dragos chose to react the way that he did, there was clearly no stopping him: the Son threw his javelin and leapt forward, and with Es further from the door than he was, there was no way she could intercept him in time to redirect his full-on charge. She had to adapt, which meant going long and hitting the woman from the side while Dragos kept her occupied from the front.
Es almost launched herself forward and to her left for flank their assailant when she stopped dead- they were here! The Arc rounded on her heel and faced the two female mages, cursing under her breath. Of course they got the drop on them – Es hadn’t hardly had enough time to prepare. Now she had to just handle them as best she could, and hope she and Dragos could escape and try, again, to redefine the battlefield.
The Arc gritted her teeth, but she also wasted no time: the short sword she had drawn left her hand in a split second, a violent flick of her arm sending the blade spinning towards Soren at near-supersonic speed. In a split second, the second blade would be in her grasp, and with an emerald flash, Es would explode forward, her body advancing in a flying blink of muscle and light directly at both Soren and Callitxa, who stood side-by-side. Assuming they had done something about her sword, Es would aim to land just in front of and between the two women, her left arm striking out like a viper to send her shield slamming towards Callixta’s midsection, hopefully sending the light woman rocketing back into the armory wall, while her right arm did a short, deadly sweep of the short sword, aiming to send the long edge of the blade directly into Soren’s upper chest, just beneath her breast and between a few of her ribs. The blows themselves would be accompanied by two forces: that of her acceleration, lending strength enough for each blow to equate to the striking of an artillery shell, and also the exploding force of the woman’s landing and sudden deceleration, which would shake the ground and disturb the air enough that it might send one or both of the women off-balance, and therefore less able to easily counter Es’ blows.
The Arc’s speed was every bit as startling as it had been the last time the two mages had encountered her, and even as she landed, Es’ body was already wreathed in emerald energy. She would seem no worse for the wear after their last encounter, but internally, Es knew better – the Arc had mere moments of fight left in her, from an energy standpoint. She would have to strike hard and fast enough to create an opening if either she or Dragos were to survive.
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Rivea
Initiated
Posts: 11
Title: The Unmade
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Post by Rivea on Jun 15, 2017 0:05:23 GMT -5
Rivea momentarily looked confused by Dragos’s exclamation. One word, no description – and it was like the weird, stocky, silver-haired guy was familiar with her? Rivea prided herself on having a good memory, and she definitely couldn’t recall ever meeting this grumpy-looking fella. Therefore, when Dragos would exclaim ‘you,’ Rivea would questioningly point at herself with one finger in response.
“Me?”
The unmade wasn’t sure what got the man’s panties in such a bunch – weren’t the good guys supposed to quip and banter first? Besides, she had found him, and now here he was, acting like he had found her! Absurd!
In any event, the man got all mad and started screaming just about the same time that Rivea caught sight of Søren and Callixta stepping from the proverbial fade on the other side of the room. Their appearance distracted the Unmade enough that she totally missed the javelin that Dragos had hurled at her center mass. However, the steel-tipped wooden weapon would strike Rivea’s lower-left abdomen in the same way a toothpick would strike a rock – shattering and deflecting, with the rock not budging a millimeter in response. It was like the woman was made of stone.
Rivea would notice the charging Dragos, though, shield up and all. As he neared her (very quickly at that) the Unmade would center her weight firmly on her left foot and very skillfully kick out her right combat boot directly into Dragos’ raised shield as he came after her. The force of the kick would be enough to buckle the shield around the Unmade’s foot as though it had been crushed in an industrial press, and the force of the kick (from a stop, with no momentum mind you) would Easily be enough to not only totally halt Dragos’ momentum, but potentially reverse it and send him flying back across the room to where Es was advancing on Søren and Callixta.
The Unmade’s raw strength was titanic: and if Dragos managed to veer and strike her body, avoiding her kick, he would find it to be more like striking a stone monument than a person: Rivea’s raw density was unlike anything he had likely encountered before. What could she possibly be made of?
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Isis
Uninitiated
Posts: 2
Title: The Radiant Woman
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Post by Isis on Jun 15, 2017 1:15:29 GMT -5
Light. The sort that was blinding. The feeling of having spent a season under grey and overcast when suddenly, mundane expectation is defied and the sun arrives, breathless, to warm the skin and restore what once threatened to wither. It was a dark scene that greeted the Radiant Woman. These children, so exuberant in their youth, were determined to destroy one another. They were Her children whether they knew it or not and today She would not let them return to dust. . .
Time himself held his breath as the Woman stepped into the center of the room, Her Light lessening only that those within might see. Jet eyes that would be mistaken for unseeing Voids roamed the interior, caressing the forms of the two women that had wandered in from nothingness, intent on asserting their will on those who would die before offering surrender. Delicate fingers and hands with sun-dark skin gently stroked the blade aimed for the death knight, forever altering its course in an act that would be wholly unnecessary by the night's end. The Radiant Woman smiled as she turned her attention to the charging gladiator and his less-than-cooperative opponent. Nothing progressed, nothing changed. The blade strayed no further from its origin; the shield had only begun to buckle under the force of the construct's boot . The matron moved not a muscle. The Woman's bare feet made no sound and She glided across the room as if part of a dance. To all She would be nearly incomprehensible― immeasurable by the instinctive scale of a human mind. As She looked upon them they would see Her with perfect clarity, every feature glorious in make. And yet later, when they attempted to summon the image of Her smile they would be left with only visceral feeling.
To the son of Marru'Khyr time continued to hold his breath for all but him. The Radiant Woman slid into his field of vision and he would be free to look upon himself, a titan of force behind that shield. Free to observe his own expression, locked in inhuman determination while his truth stood beside Her. She would take his face into Her hands, locking eyes with him and bestowing upon him the reprieve Her smile could offer. It was warmth and safety offered to his exhausted mind, freedom from his bloodborne chains, and time that She would give him. It was not expected that he would understand Her Gift, and that was always the way of it. His unnatural barriers, the Armor he'd painstakingly erected over the years, would be worn very thin in Her presence. There was no need for such things, Her eyes told him. I know what you seek, said Her hands as they cradled his face and Her gaze swallowed him in Dark that was Light but never blinding. The barest whispers would tease his skin if he chose to listen, if he did not struggle against Her. Though, in what Universe would he choose to fight the Radiant Woman― She who was Mother to all things. Save your Fight, the whispers nudged, but Her lips did not move. The warmth would reach him whether he allowed himself to feel it or not. The safety would envelop him whether his overdriven mind chose to rest or not. Isis would close the distance between them, Her lips shifting like moonlight from the divine beam a Mother reserves for Her favorite child to the knowing, enigmatic smile that becomes portent for what is to come. The fingertip of Her index lightly tapped the round of his nose and his perception of that desolate warehouse of war would fade. The Light would pour in and the last thing he would hear of this plane was the sound of the Woman laughing and he would remember what it felt like to be a child, before the weight of others became his to bear. . .
To the construct Isis would appear with a kind but wistful smile. Rivea would be gathered in Her arms as a true child, enveloped in what limited way she was able to process. It was not magic Isis wielded. Hers was truth and Rivea would perceive it as she would, held in Her arms and rocked as if her body were far smaller. The Radiant Woman would press a kiss to the little one's forehead before sending her off to her next destination, knowing that this was a child with a Nature only She could love and understand. . .
To the matron there was but a glimpse of a dark skinned, dark eyed Woman that was impossible to process all at once. A mysterious smile. A gentle caress that reassured. All is well that will end well, it was whispered.
Es would be gently coaxed from her launch, compelled to walk beside Her. The Radiant Woman would take the hands of the green woman in Hers and shake Her head slowly. This is not where you are supposed to be, Her eyes would tell her. Your part is still to come, the whispers would press to her skin. The pad of Her thumb would depress the green woman's lower lip and her perception, too, would fade of this place.
To the women with wills of Iron the Radiant Woman would offer a bow that was no mocking gesture. Not here, not today. Not My children. They would get the sense of Her, but they would not be made to understand. Those eyes, pools of unending pitch, would twinkle as they watched her, at once crafted of Moon's Dark and Sun's Light and yet, neither were perfect descriptors. Not today. . .
They were gone, then. The construct, the green woman, and he who needed respite.
As was the Radiant Woman.
{ Location Change: Dragos to The Second Dominion; Es Kauvrian and Rivea to Unknown }
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Post by Søren Kiirkegré on Jun 28, 2017 20:05:19 GMT -5
Søren hadn't quite expected Callixta to act so quickly - if the Guardian had her way, they'd have given Rivea a few minutes more to shake things up and get the pursued really entrenched in a battle before appearing, but once she and her fine-haired friend appeared inside the Manor's (apparent) armory, the Sixth District Councilor saw the wisdom in Callixta's choice. Es, if no one else, looked prepared to take the very exit that they now occupied into the tunnels, and while she likely wouldn't get far, keeping the two of them outside of the mountain gave the pair far more options in how to corner them.
The Councilor couldn't help but take a few seconds to admire the room that they were now in, however - the collection of weapons surrounding them, on the walls and in various cases throughout the center of the room, was extremely impressive. It was enough to furnish a small army, a thought that gave Søren pause - outside of the inescapably eccentric, who collected this many weapons? Someone planning a war, or at least a guerrilla campaign, or an arms dealer of some kind. Søren resolved herself to do more investigation into Fureya's connections.
The Guardian also took notice of just how effectively Rivea seemed to have gotten the Marru'Khyran whelp's attention - the green woman was preparing to engage the little juggernaut Operative as well, giving the newly-arrived Søren and Callixta the few seconds they needed to get set up.
Søren grinned, and as Es saw them and started reacting, the Death Guardian was already well on her way to a reaction of her own. Calling on the Guardian energy itself was too risky - last time, the force had nearly killed her, and it was only the good luck of Callixta's Ether field that made the Councilor able to survive. However, Søren had learned something useful from the nature of the Death Guardian energy, and so as soon as she arrived, the mage set to work expressing Ether from her palms and swarming the energy around both of her hands. Closing them into fists, Søren intentionally destabilized the orderly, compressed Ether in such a way that the raw force began to vibrate and tear at the air around her fists, creating a dark, caustic cloud of magickal energy that jerked and twisted, as though out-of-phase with the world around it.
When the green woman tossed her sword with lightning efficiency, Søren would merely hold out her left hand, palm out, in order to block it - she knew that the second the physical matter of the sword struck the miasma of energy around her outstretched hand, the volatile, destabilized force, seeking to right itself using whatever materials it could interact with, would immediately rip and tear the blade into so many tiny pieces, effectively negating the projectile. Assuming Es was going to charge the two women, as she had in their previous battle, Søren was ready to deliver a punch with her other hand that could, potentially, carve right through the woman's body as though it were a hot knife through so much melted butter. Søren wasn't taking chances with her opponent this time.
But then, everything froze.
Søren sensed something that was suddenly, inescapably wrong: everything had stopped in the room, including Søren herself, though she felt her consciousness continue to tick by the seconds regardless of her ability to move or impact the space around her, or even her own body, in any way. A wave of change washed over the Death Guardian, and she felt the energy she collected suddenly disappear as it was unwritten from the world in a way Søren herself could never have achieved. The woman felt a cold spike of fear, but she was never given the time to comprehend its source.
Suddenly, she and Callixta were back outside the manner, feet planted firmly in the snow, and the Guardian was suddenly, acutely aware that everything had changed. The mage herself had ways of tearing at and altering reality, usually in ways that were crude or clumsy, as she had when she had destabilized the Ether she had drawn from herself only seconds before - Ether that was now decidedly gone. Yet, even when she had been at the side of the Mage, Søren had never witnessed reality being rewritten in the manner of an author editing a scene in a novel. There was nothing crude about what had just happened: one second, Søren and Callixta had been in a room, ready to capture a set of fugitives, and now they were back outside, as if they had never entered, and it only took Søren a number of seconds to extend her energy and realize that their quarries were not only momentarily safe from being captured: they were just gone . . . along with Rivea.
Wide-eyed, the Sixth District Councilor turned to Callixta and asked the only question she could think of as being relevant to the situation.
"What the fuck was that?"
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Post by Callixta Trëguere on Jun 28, 2017 20:52:11 GMT -5
From the moment they stepped onto the concrete floor in the apparent Armory everything became a fast-forwarded blur. The mage was cognizant of the overreaction to the presence of Rivea and the green woman's immediate reaction to the threat of she and Søren's appearance. There was the burst of motion from the thrown weapon and then a second explosion of force as the dark-haired Kauvrian hurled herself toward them. The spin of the heaved sword began to slow and Callixta stared in wonder, understanding that another force was at work . Another force that was beyond even her scope.
Callixta Trëguere blinked and the act lasted through an eternity. There was Someone Else there. A Woman that existed across Reality rather than in one reality. Amber eyes widened as the petite mage struggled to comprehend Her and to piece together what was happening in the room. The River of Reality was suddenly too big, too much for her to sort through. Whatever entity it was that interfered with them now Callixta had no hope of undoing its intent.
And just like that, she and Søren were deposited outside, forced backward through the path Callixta had navigated for them.
The mage gasped the moment she regained control over herself.
"Søren!"
Callixta's body snapped to the direction of the other woman, her face displaying open shock and surprise: thick streams of tears poured unchecked down the mage's face.
"I don't understand. . ."
The Fifth District Counselor began frantically gesturing, searching for the right fold to grant them access to where they'd just come from.
"I don't understand. It's not here. . . I can't get us back inside."
Jewel-colored eyes bore into the other woman.
"I think we need to leave. That wasn't another planesmage. That was. . . That was something bigger."
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Post by Søren Kiirkegré on Jun 28, 2017 21:18:08 GMT -5
Søren's sense of calm was in no way helped by Callixta's near-panic reaction. In her time spent with the overly-attractive planar mage, Søren couldn't remember a time where she had seen Callixta in such a state. Still, as was customary for the diminutive Guardian, Søren didn't get scared. She got mad.
"Fuck, we can't leave! We have to find Rivea! We have to figure out where they went!" The Sixth District Councilor was only vaguely aware of the fact that she was yelling. "Do you think Alpha's going to accept the hand of god excuse? Because I fucking don't!"
Søren gritted her teeth and turned away from Callixta, facing the manor again, took a step into the air in front of her, disappearing momentarily from view as she accessed the Guardian Space to travel between two distant points and deliver herself directly back into the heart of the Manor, where they had just been. Unfortunately, instead of arriving at her intended destination, Søren instead flickered back into view at nearly the same point she had disappeared from, stone faced.
"Okay, so - point taken. There is a fucking temporal well here now. "
Søren let out a string of inventive curses that seemed to come from a mishmash of several languages. Callixta, as usual, was right - if she couldn't shadow-step into the area because of a temporal well, then something outside of the normal rules of reality had made a major change to the space. That either meant that Achréiøs had managed to ascend to godhood, or that something else had intervened - and since Callixta and Søren weren't horribly murdered or trapped in a torture dimension right now, the Guardian could be pretty sure it wasn't the former.
Suddenly the woman got a flash in her mind of a black-eyed, white-clothed woman taking a celebratory bow in front of them. It was only a flicker, but the image had burned in Søren brain right at the point everything seemed to go cross-eyes and the two mages were sent packing from the fight they themselves had started.
Søren reached out and grabbed Callixta's hand, squeezing it tight and stepping close to the woman.
"You're right - there's nothing else we can do here. Take us back to the Tower - we need to tell Alpha what has happened immediately."
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Post by Callixta Trëguere on Jun 29, 2017 8:07:10 GMT -5
Callixta Trëguere tensed at the other Counselor's response knowing she was right but also knowing that there wasn't anything to be done about it.
"No, don't!"
Callixta uttered a strangled cry when Søren stepped out for moment: she wasn't sure exactly how that would turn out considering she couldn't even find the right path. For all she knew, Sixth District's Counselor could vanish just like the others.
The mage's features showed obvious relief when Søren returned unharmed and with a clearer understanding of what she'd tried to communicate. Callixta was beginning to calm, her earlier fit of panic subsiding rapidly. She took the other woman's hand in her own and squeezed back in reassurance.
Within the space of a breath the two women simply melted away.
{Location Change: The Tower}
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