Since the moment that the woman had fallen unconscious, her world had been in darkness. She had fallen into the realm of nothing, no dreams, thoughts, she wasn't aware of anything. Her mind had been in overdrive trying to correct what had been wrong, working frivolously to weave back together the whole fabric of her mentality. Her ability pool had been drained almost completely which had caused the fall into unconsciousness, but it was refueling itself at a rather quick pace.
She hadn't moved, twitched, made any type of sign that she was aware or dreaming. Even the flight over Sigil while Tres was carrying her hadn't produced any movement. Tres was right, it would be a long road of recovery before the woman was back to her usual self.
As the two Psions started to radiate in energy while the blonde was leaning against the wall in the alley, something seemed to go wrong in whatever self healing process was going on in her head. The probable cause was the fact that the alley was being completely overwhelmed with psychic energy from both Tres and Raveena.
From her sleeping state, Red gasped audibly, her whole frame straightening. It was like she couldn't get a breath, couldn't force the air already in her lungs out. Her eyes forced open, yet unseeing, wide as can be. Veins started to become visible under her pale flesh, muscles straining against nothing, but finally a wheezed breath escaped her.
As far as anyone could tell she was awake, but unaware of anything around her. In reality she was still locked in the depths of the dream realm, sleeping like a baby. Red bolted to her feet, the air radiating with cackling energy all around her figure. Both of her slender digits flexed irritably, as if the need to punch something was almost overwhelming. Her once piercing crimson eyes were pale. Pale like they had been when she first arrived in Sigil, pale like she was blind. With an emotionless expression, her head turned to Jean, whom was the closest besides the kneeling Astrella. Her hand lifted in front of her, the ghost of a smile reaching her lips as her pale eyes turned down to look at her fingers which were curled over like she was grasping the bottom of a cup. Light started to form inbetween her fingers, the air crackling more fiercely around her hand.
Only two other people had seen what she was currently doing before. Thomas Bravot and Ertai Vexic. Whatever she was doing should have been impossible, there was no way that she had recovered long enough to be able to pour enough of her ability into the formation of a Psychic bolt. Whatever was happening though, it was in direct response to the mingling energies in the alley.
Turning her eyes upwards with a more devious looking grin etching along her lips, She would turn towards Jean and raise her hand, but without hesitation the crack of what could be thought of as lightning sounded, ripping through the air towards the man was an arch of raw psychic power formed into a bolt of lightning.
Lian had been running, trying to get as far away from the Market Ward as she could to get away from the Liger suit but accidentally losing Tyrone and Frankie in the process of running through the thin crowds that were trying to get away from the fighting going on around the Guildhall. The collapse of the Mage Guild had stirred the air enough to cause trouble for more people. She stopped, leaning against a building and looking down at her hands that were cut up from the Liger's claws, dirty and bleeding. She was alone and bleeding. Not the best combination in Sigil. Lian looked back up to the Torus, her eyes watering and her hands stinging. "Goddess why...Of all times for you to abandon me with poor fortune and a useless body..."She shook her head, gritting her baby teeth and trying not to cry.
Sniffing, she looked around to where she was. She could see the beacon that was Illmaters Hospital. They were a very common sight in Sigil...and she swore she must have been there a dozen times for one reason or another. The last was for the broken ankle she suffered from the sprouted forest. She limped, her wrappings on her feet having started coming lose to now the grit and gravel of the city dug into her feet. She shuffled, moving past an alleyway that had voices coming from it. She didn't recognize the female ones but the male one...Tres' voice...She wanted to cry so hard and hold him but it would just confuse the s**t out of him of why a little girl was holding onto his legs, crying and bleeding from her hands and face. Lian was torn.
Hospital or Him? Let everything fall apart and go crying to Tres or go to the hospital where they may or may not help her...she swallowed. Her throat was dry from thirst and her stomach cramped from hunger. She turned toward the hospital, walking away from the alleyway and away from the light show that started to glow from it. She tried to pick up her pace but her legs wobbled from running. She made it to the hospital grounds, people walking out or rushing in to get help. Lian walked in through the front doors, her hair clinging around her cherub face and raised her hands, pleading. "Help me..."She called out. Her small voice sounded so brittle and tired. A nurse came over, looking over her hands and face. She could have sworn there was some utterance about stitches and a bath. The nurse picked her up and like many, she was rushed off to be cared for quickly.
"What's your name?"Someone spoke to her, shining a light in her eyes. She didn't know how much time had passed from being picked up and carried off. When she glanced around, she was in a children's ward room with others who were bandage or attached to tubes that were keeping them alive. When her eyes refocused, she could see it was one of the doctors.
"I...mm..."She started, wetting her lips with her tongue and a nurse helped her sit up to drink from a small cup.
"You are..."The doctor tried to coax her name from her.
"Hungry...thirsty..."She said, looking up tiredly and the doctor shook his head.
"Get her some food and see if we can get more information. Has the DNA result come back?"The doctor asked. The nurse responded that it hadn't yet. Great. Which meant she could know who this body was...or who she was. Her head was pounding and she laid back down, feeling gauze around her hands that protected the stitches on her palms and one down her face. She had an idea though. A brilliant one if not maybe a little crazy but she looked up to the doctor.
"Please...Can you call my Daddy? I don't like hospitals...I want to go home."She said, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
"So you do have a name? Who's your Daddy?"The Doctor said, relief slipping out of his voice and with the most innocent of smiles she said.
"Tresondros Ecstuffuan. My Mommy said that when two people love each other very much they--"She started but the doctor waved his hands.
"IIIII don't think you should talk about that in front of the other little children...Are you sure he's your Daddy?"The Doctor said, stopping her before she got too far. She was definitely a curious case. Did the Chairman seriously have an illegitimate kid? This girl? He rubbed his temples but smiled and cleared his throat. "Alright. I'll have a nurse try to contact him...My Goddess..."
The Doctor got up, leaving her alone with the nurse. Lian looked up to her smiling and batting her eyes. Maybe being a child wouldn't be so bad...at least she was going to get food, someone had given her a bath and a hospital gown. Her hands stung from the stitches but at least she had gotten help. She asked for food and the nurse sighed, leaving her alone which gave her time to think while resting...and figuring out how to convince Tres of who she really was without dropping too many clues to others around them.
"Tresondros Ecstuffuan. My Mommy said that when two people love each other very much they--"She started but the doctor waved his hands.
"IIIII don't think you should talk about that in front of the other little children...Are you sure he's your Daddy?"The Doctor said, stopping her before she got too far. She was definitely a curious case. Did the Chairman seriously have an illegitimate kid? This girl? He rubbed his temples but smiled and cleared his throat. "Alright. I'll have a nurse try to contact him...My Goddess..."
The Doctor got up, leaving her alone with the nurse. Lian looked up to her smiling and batting her eyes. Maybe being a child wouldn't be so bad...at least she was going to get food, someone had given her a bath and a hospital gown. Her hands stung from the stitches but at least she had gotten help. She asked for food and the nurse sighed, leaving her alone which gave her time to think while resting...and figuring out how to convince Tres of who she really was without dropping too many clues to others around them.
Tres Ecstuffuan
Guildhall Ward
______It wasn't the hardest thing to believe. Even to those with only a minor understanding of popular culture, Tresondros Ecstuffuan was known far and wide as the most electrifying man in sports entertainment. Every woman in the multiverse wanted to ******** him, at least that was the way Tres presented himself and one would be hard pressed to find evidence to the contrary.
______All about the little girl were men and women being rushed in. Men uniformed in black with berets with the UWP insignia walked in and out, too busy to notice the little girl standing near the nurse. She was careful to have not drawn any clues as to who she was and perhaps to the matron it would feel odd for others not to pay her the recognition that someone of her renown was due.
_______One of those individuals, a female Enforcer with skin like bark, a dryad by the look of it would make eye contact with the little girl. Captain A'hath had seen many children this day, orphaned by the destruction at the Mages guild by the Elder God Ertai Vexic. She looked solemnly at the little girl, assuming that her circumstance was the same as others. A'hath had been orphaned by violent circumstance as well and he knew the pain and the effect that could have on someone that age.
_______Al'hara suddenly got the sense of being a baby sitter. The drow didn't like it because it made her job far more complicated.
"By the Nine, all this trouble certainly isn't worth the sights. Lets bugger off then, I'm not trying to wet my blade in bug bear blood over a client and I'm not a bout to lose a client to some stuffy handler. Come on...", after paying up front the bills were already handled and they would have to chalk it up to a loss.
_______The drow stood up, pulling Zeonis along, making its way to the back area with the ancient lavatories and exiting the establishment at the rear. The guide wanted to avoid a fight, whether it was with bugbears or someone else. They would be thrown into the foot traffic of the Guildhall and Market Ward border, as they made there way through, the drow would ask;
"What are you some prince?"
Zeonis growled in protest as she dragged him through the crowded marketplace. The mixture of auras and the foot traffic would do well to hide them from his retainer. He was grateful to the drow for her quick thinking, however he worried that he was beginning to become a burden. As Zeonis regained composure Al'hara's question rattled him once more.
Answering her question could prove to cause more trouble he thought, or maybe it could make things easier on her. He doubted that Al'hara would want more visitors from his world to show up here plaguing her with questions about him. With a reluctant sigh he answered, "Yes. I am a prince. The person following us, like I said before, is my retainer, or bodyguard, or mentor, whatever you want to call it."
Zeonis looked back into the crowd his eyes fading to a soft blue, he entered the aura world once more and scanned the area quickly. His retainer's aura was far behind them, most likely searching the tavern. They were out of reach for now. He thought it best to change subjects. "I apologize. I wanted to keep a low profile and not burden you with this. I assume there will be an extra fee or two attached for the trouble?" he questioned.
The Market Ward > Illmaters Hope Hospital
______A'hath was visually perturbed at the revelation.
"Your damn right there's gonna be an extra fee. I had enough poltical intrigue in Menzoberranzan. ", the drow said mentioning the city of the drow within the Underdark.
_______The drow had a great secret that forced her to abscond from the great city. The mention was evidently connected to some troubling memories based on its expression.
________Eventually as they moved, A'hath was too busy trying to hold Zeonis's hand to navigate through the...more active than usual crowd. Whispers of the death of the mages guild ran rampant through the sea of alien humanity. Eventually they would find themselves before Illmaters hope hospital after being jostled to and fro in the sea of life.
"Uhh...This is Illmaters hope. Hospital and home of the best healers in all of the multiverse. If you ever get injured, which isn't unlikely in this city. You will want to come here. Healthcare is expensive if you don't have insurance. If you come in here wounded you may walk out without a shirt on your back if you can't pay. The good part is, whatever injury you got, they can usually treat it."
_________Zeonis would feel a massive swell of psychic energy from an alleyway nearby.
[!]Sigil City :: Market Ward[!] Black star… []~O~[]
[!] ~“Into the opera like moths to a flame…”~ [!]
Jak would give the kid roughly three-minutes of his time, but not in earnest. Instead, the Rock Legend turned his ubiquitous influence upon a pair of the girls nearby; burying them in his soul-binding gaze, and drawing them in. Each to an open arm, they came...ears unable to distinguish Leon's sound from Savage's power.
"This is why I never use mechanical sound..."
He leaned in to breath against the flesh of fan #1's neck, and whispered poison directly into her ear. He was all she knew, and the world faded to nothing beyond his embrace. Jak's fingertips teased the skin of his second victim's thigh, slipping up to graze her hips. It had all been by design, and he shifted his face to the opposite side; his hand having risen to pull lips against his own.
They were lost, but happily so...And lady envy spread her wings.
Those who could not feel his touch would instead want for it; an urge to have some foothold in his universe, or stock in his existence. His nature made him seem as a giant...a God amongst mortals...their eyes filled with venom, and forced to see him in an unnaturally beautiful light.
He'd pull away from the kiss, extracting his tongue with an obvious pop, before fixing the full of his glare upon Leon once more; visible steam rising at his back, and the crack of splitting wood acting as herald to what would come.
"...It just isn't right."
A line of reddish energy would manifest within his right palm, which he withdrew from around his temporary paramour, and then snake its way into the bottom of his Axe; generating a fizzle of auditory feedback from speakers that...honestly...had not been there moments before. In fact, to the discerning eye, it would be clear that several alterations had been made in the little coffee shop; even if none could place when, or how, they had occurred.
Rock the World :: Jak Savage’s ballads have the power to reshape the land, and even push back the sea. Typically, this ability is used early on to create suitable space for his band and all the necessary equipment.
His fans would step away, and...once again...Jak's fingertips moved to find purchase upon his instrument; burning down the strings in rapid fire, as a spectral band of long-dead musicians arose at the rock star's back.
Spectral Band :: Jak Savage is not only the Lead Guitar, but also the Lead Vocal. A true rock & roll legend in the making, Savage doesn’t have the patience to deal with ”real” band-mates bickering and hogging his spotlight. Thus, per his [Deal with the Devil] ability, he can summon a group of long-dead musicians, and ghostly equipment, to play whatever other instrument he might need. These spirits are intangible, and serve only two purposes in battle. The first, the ability to play instruments, ties directly into Savage’s other powers. The second use, however, is that they add a creepy factor to the “show” that otherwise would not be there.
Together, and with the not-so-normal stage, they had created an impromptu concert where once one had never been; stealing the spotlight, and reality, in one sweep of his hand.
[!] ~”…Spellbind their senses to follow the hero!”~[!]
[!] ~”Those who fight change are doomed to die, while those who accept it merely survive…”~[!]
Rhonda's intentions, despite being well-meant, would be unclear to all but herself. While the elderly mendicant was in no shape to stand against her, and could hardly stand at all...Juliaviar, the Tiger-Queen, had survived the battle completely unscathed.
Her massive, stripped, bulk appearing as if she had sprang from the earth its self!
'sSKksSRAOOOoOOOAR!!'
Despite her well-over eight-foot long body, and thickly muscled frame...or perhaps because of it...the enormous tiger matron was face-to-face with the UWP representative before she could so much as blink; toothy maw agape, and growling hot thunder. Even on all fours, she made Rhonda seem as a child...Her very being evoking a sense of otherworldly grandeur.
It wouldn't take an extensive understanding of planar mechanics to know that this tigress was of royal stock...Born of the Astral Pride, and raised wild in jungles beyond comprehension.
But, before the mighty beast could act, a soothing voice called out to her from behind.
"Jul!...Not this one...I feel that she means us no harm."
It was the old man whom she had seen before, speaking in Rhonda's defense. While he could not know for certain who she was, he could certainly read the sides of the vehicles behind her; inferring based on what he knew, and wise enough to practice patience above fear.
"Careful, young lady...The Queen of Astral Tigers stands before you...Master to her I am not, and she is wild beyond reckoning. Show her you mean us no harm, and she may relent."
And yet, standing before her, it most certainly would not feel that way.
[!] ~”…Only those who effect change, who lead it, may find prosperity.”~[!]
Lian had barely paid attention to the UWP Enforcers. While she was being helped, she felt a pair of eyes on her and looked up to the dryad. For a moment, much like many connection to Fae creatures Captain A'hath would feel the cool tingle of magic. Lian's people of Fal'lain had a very special connection with the trees that gave them their homes and hunting grounds. When she stared, in the few seconds they made contact, A'hath would see 'beyond the veil' and witness who she was in soul even if the body and voice didn't match. She stood there in her battle damaged clothes, her hands being looked over by the nurse even though she seemed to be talking to someone the height of the child. The older Lian stared and then, even if the child's didn't move, spoke a message that only the dryad could hear.
"Find Tres."She spoke and just like that, the vision was gone and the child was being rushed off to be cleaned and stitched up in the children's ward of the hospital.
There was a moment of silence after Tresondros let her go and Astrella had lapsed into the illusion cast over her.
At some point, Tresondros would realize the woman he tended to had stopped moving.
Stopped breathing. Stopped living.
There came a long, content sigh as that insurmountable burden severed the remaining ties she had desperately clung to. Her gaze lost it's lucidity despite staring at nothing. Someone knew--someone finally knew the things she carried within her. Raveena so desperately wanted to convey her sorrow, her anger, pain and guilt. No one in existence would ever know--this she had resigned herself to believing. The great burden lifted, though not without killing her. It was an inexhaustible treat to feel light and untroubled as she passed. Tresondros slipped in and out of clarity as she gazed past him and into the depths of Sigil's sky. It jogged her memory of being so young, running through the palace gardens. She had danced and danced in those carefree times.
Home...
She could feel a current. The notion of going home, of a family that welcomed her there soothed the pain of her passing. It was what she longed for, something taken away and misplaced for centuries. A sense of family, her family. With the warm smile of her mother, and innocence of her children, the unyielding love of Corvinus. Bravot would feel the absence the strongest. A promise, broken with the loss of life. Tres' would feel it through the empathetic link they had just established. It would dawn on the others slowly through realization, and many others would not find out until later. Across the many planes of existence her identity would, with time, fade from memory--and there would be nothing left at all, not even a spirit. There was a slow, peaceful exhale, her lips barely parting to let the air out as she lost herself in the Twilight that gave Sigil it's eerie orange light. Somewhere in the last moments of her life, Raveena could feel a cold sensation spreading across her body.
Death.
Ribbons of ice lattice patterned across her pale skin, a visible transformation as a thin sheath of ice slowly crawled along her body. It had been some time since she had entered Death, intent to save a young woman from the lesser dead that prowled through the grey, murky water that chilled her legs and made her clumsy as she waded knee deep against the current that begged her to follow. Something was calling her, pulling her beyond the first precinct. It was a cold that was not the warm, light sensation she had first felt when she passed. It soaked deep through her skin, down to the bones and left her miserable. Raveena wanted to buckle and succumb--she had too long gone without remembering how cruel the current was. The atmosphere was grey and brooding, as if a storm that would never be was approaching, leaving everything bleak and washed out. Her legs fell out from under her as the current dragged her towards the water's edge. Raveena wanted to struggle, but this was the end of things--there would be no return for her this time--so when pain shot through her shoulder, the Empress was startled.
Hitotsu...
Nails dug into the flesh of her shoulders and a disgruntled sneer came as a force hauled her back. Raveena stumbled and cried out, blind to her attacker, though her lips were already pursing, the recollection of being taught the magic that ran deep in her veins, the notes that would serve her. Deep and low the whistle struggled to come out at first. A brief pause of her captor followed, and the short, clear sound of free magic and the power of the Charter riding along the sound allowed The Binder's power to pull the two apart. Raveena struggled to her feet, nearly collapsing into the River's terrible current and being dragged off again. Visibly shaken and frozen from the water's icy touch, she prepared to face the entity to accost her. The air left her lungs in sharp exhale of realization, her very own face leering at her, vivid golden eyes searing into her, "You thought dying would be oh, so easy." A calm, thoroughly soaked Corvus watched Raveena like a patient predator biding its time, "Your child is gone. And you, you are taking me back." For a terrifying moment of silence, Corvus let those forceful words settle. Raveena was poised, tensed even as the merciless cold tried to sweep them both away. Fasumbra was gone now? Where? Dead? Had he been killed? Had Bravot killed the boy after all? Had Corvus done something herself?
Futatsu...
She was preparing to bind Corvus to her bidding when the fractured soul grabbed Raveena by her face, masking her lips and muting the sound. Raveena flailed and screamed, a searing pain in her scalp as she was seized upright and dragged against the current. "You don't get the pleasure of a simple, idle death." Corvus snapped, hauling the woman's body towards the first Gateway, a wall of mist serving as the breach between Life and Death. Her features were an eerie mask of calm, the scant emotions that flit across her visage disappearing as quickly as they came. Raveena knew that Corvus was the stronger of the two, even in the ice cold River of Death. Yet again she could feel the horror of being helpless as the other woman took complete control. No amount of fighting or protesting could keep Corvus from destroying everything, "Your feelings killed you, don't you know this?" There was a look of faint amusement on her face as knotted her fingers through Raveena's damp hair, tugging furiously with no remorse as Raveena screamed in agony, "You know the laws and still you're weak. Weak without me. I will make you stronger!" Corvus declared, dragging the two of them onward. The lesser dead that wandered aimlessly through the current were attracted to the piercing shrieks and protesting, of two identical figures struggling through Death's current.
The sound of the bell rang so suddenly, it had surprised even Corvus; The clear, pure sound of the Sleeper stretched through Death, it's sound reaching far beyond the First Precinct. A dainty, petite sound resonated, the lesser dead collapsing in a fit of slumber, bereft of a will strong enough to resist. The lids of Raveena's eyes grew heavy. The grip Corvus held upon her was slackened and the cold, murky depths consumed both women. A strong grip seized them both and with a firm yet gentler force than the Neohuman, helped them cross the last few inches of Death and crossed back over into Life.
---
In that rare show of emotions, you opened yourself up to me. My beloved--with those smoldering eyes and your sad smile as we stood and watched the transient flowers fall away from the trees,"Too early, this year."You sounded disappointed, full of regret--but in that moment, you were beautiful.
If you could see me now, I wonder what you would think? Me, living without you. I can't believe that I'll never see you again. I have so many things to tell you, so many things to say...
Let go the tension in your shoulders so you can seal away the past somewhere. From here they're probably not too far, scenery you haven't even seen.
How was the scenery you saw when you were pushed into an abyss of despair?
I want to overcome the ceaseless pain in my chest and become closer to you. I have wandered about once and returned always grasping for the blue sky...
"Too soon,"I smiled sadly.
---
Astrella felt the cool underbrush beneath her. The temperature had increased yet the shade was a relief. Blinking slowly, her moment of prayer was interrupted by the startling realization that she was no longer where she thought she was. The onslaught of confusion began as the luke-warm breeze playfully pulled at her Sari. "W-what...?" Straining to remember, had she always been here? Had she been dreaming of the adventure to the strange world of Sigil?
The Queen slowly came to sit on the soft bedding, the hysteria that threatened to well up in her chest calming down. The soft gurgling stream of her favorite Oasis a familiar, soothing sound to her. Had all of it been a dream? How deeply did she sleep to conjure such vivid dreams? Where was Gabriel and Arous? Surely if she had been asleep all this time someone would have worried and sent for her...
A trickle of fear ran down her spine; Was OXY real? Were they still occupying the inner city? Perhaps that was why she had not been sent for...perhaps OXY was still there! Perhaps it hadn't been a dream after all! Where had the strange man gone? The Hiding Man, swathed in glamours and illusions. Energies lines masterfully crafted and woven together, yet still to her eyes she could See. Rolling her bottom lip between teeth, Astrella was hesitant to go back to the inner sanctum of Kruidia. Here, she felt a sense of safety, security. She had often come to study, to reflect on her next move. Exhaling slowly, Astrella swept the dark bangs from her silvery eyes, "I don't even know what's going on anymore..." The Kruidian sighed woefully.
---
The sign of Cancer, ever-present on Raven's forehead flashed brilliantly before dimming. The deep, blue irises of her almond-shaped eyes seemed to wash out and become a faded olive green. Slivers and flecks of gold dotted around the cat-like pupil as she dragged air into her lungs, the same fear and panic that she felt in Death following her into Life as she gasped. Raven clawed at the ground in a disoriented state, clambering to sit upright--not fully aware that her hand was still recovering from being broken, that her body had been through too great a deal from the Infiltrator's assault. Her burns had been lessened, her minor cuts had closed themselves during her brief stay at the hospital. Raven hissed at the pain that shot up her wrists and shifted her weight as the brilliant light dimmed, until the zodiac symbol was a steady, pulsing glow along her forehead that was shrouded by the veil of ebony bangs. Those exotic eyes danced around wildly, looking for someone who wasn't there, hardly acknowledging the other three that were there.
"...three.
She croaked, coughing and dry-heaving harshly as if her lungs were filled with water that wasn't there.
Jean managed a smile, before looking over to the man. He was tall, he was strong, his mocha skin was dirtied and the area around his eyes made him look worse for wear, especially after his little episode with Raveena - but he looked ever the champion, the way he stood all proud and more than a little arrogant. Jean gripped the amulet in his hand and motioned down to the woman, where Raveena lay on the verge of death, her soul teetering towards the edge, and then back again as she forced what remained of her will down. But she was losing ground, and Jean wondered if Tres could see it. Unless there was some great deus ex machina, there little journey would have been for nothing, the woman they had been searching for dead after all.
"I don't know how much of a difference that will make." He said slowly, before movement caught his ear, making him look across his shoulder.
The other woman, Red, was coming too, straining for breath as if her muscles didn't want to obey the odd commands, before she staggered up with a sudden grace that was unbecoming of her. But it was different, her aura was different, her stance was off kilter as if she were equally hugging the ground and standing on it in the same instant, but ultimately, it was wrong. Wrong enough that when the woman opened her eyes, those dead pale eyes, and swung her arm up, Jean was anything but trusting. And there were choices here, she threw an attack of some sort, something he couldn't readily identify besides it was coming towards himself and Tres - one of the choices would have been to grab Tres by the arm and throw him into the blast, weakened as he was it wouldn't have been all that difficult, but he might very well have been killed by such a thing. Another choice laid in allowing the attack to strike him, it was too large to move out of the way, too quick for even his special senses. So his choice was obvious here, even if it might not have been his preferred route, and it left a sour taste in his mouth even as he turned to the left slightly and the bolt tore through his ribs, burrowed through his lung and out the other side to blast against the brick wall. His arm struck out, just before impact, in a symbolic gesture, attempting to catch Tres near the shoulder and push him out of harm's way. Blood sprayed from his lips in a sudden burst, and he was thrown back into a slide, and a sound that was half cough and half strangled cry, broke through his suddenly bloodied lips. But he stood, bent over at the waist and his hands going for the wound, sure, but he didn't let it drop him to the ground.
He looked up, black blood dribbling down his clothes and through his teeth, acidic and harsh on his gentle skin, leaving his clothes a bloodied mess that began smoking just as soon as the ichorous stuff touched it. The look in his eyes, it was murderous, yet in some manner restrained. He could have killed her then, he had every right according to the law of most any land in the multiverse. She hadn't hit his heart, like any one of his particular kind, he was quick enough to make sure most things weren't fatal, only a trifle in the long run but enough that he could have made an example of her in the street, right then. But he held his ground, and let his back straighten out, along with it came the dangling sound of delicate chain links. The Amulet glowed for a moment in his hands, and he directed it's full power towards Red.
Love's Grace
Love's Grace is a localized illusion spell that has been applied to a heart-shaped locket about the size of a half dollar coin. If one would open it, they'd find it empty, surprisingly, except for the magic clinging to the gold metal.
The user of Love's Grace can direct pleasantly charged emotions towards targets numbering between one and one thousand - the less people the magic is being directed at, the stronger it is. Using this spell allows the user to calm berserker styled rages and other hostile or negative feelings within one round of activation.
Red would feel waves of calm envelop her, warm memories from her child hood of some caretaker wrapping strong arms around her little body, or even that chancy and risky caress of a lover's lips across her own plump and pouting mouth. She might feel the presence of a friend nearby, strong and sure enough that it'd calm her out of any otherwise homicidal thoughts she was living through.
Jean meanwhile would stow the amulet in his pocket, fumbling with it for a moment as a fresh spurt of blood coated it and his clothes. If Tres attempted to help him, to take his weight, Jean would raise a hand and shake his head gently, slowly, his expression pained and somehow containing that spark of humor - that charismatic gleam just wouldn't wash off of those shiny grey eyes.
"Watch her!" Jean pressed, pointing suddenly to Raven. She'd left the world, but something was holding her at the edge, something beyond those precious gates if that's what she saw, beyond the river if that's where she ended up going, or possibly in some other hellish expanse deemed strong enough to be an afterlife, something had a hold of her and was forcing her back. In his time, Jean had learned this sort of thing might not be completely pleasant or benign in nature, he knew better being what he was, and that danger translated into his voice and his gaze, while he focused on healing himself to the extent he could.
Bone cracked and skin buckled out as blood vessels went their merry way as to knit new tissue. It was a slow process, and in the half light, it wasn't optimal - Jean ended up using more mana than he should have - but he could manage it with a few heart beats of time to himself. And he took that, moving away from the sudden bustle of action and leaning hard against the wall. There, he brought his hands up to his chest, pressing the shirt down and through subtle magic, erasing the blood from his clothes until they stood black and white and other little colors again. But even after he was healed and cleaned up, he leaned heavily into the wall, as if the effort had been a little too much for him. But he watched, he watched as Raven shot up and he looked her over as carefully as he could given the circumstances, and apparently finding nothing, simple slumped further.
"Go, go get her help." He said, half ordering the man and half requesting to be left alone, at least for a while.
The sorceress yelped more in surprise than pain, though the blade left a smarting red mark on her cheek that was likely to persist for some time. Nervously, she swallowed visibly, as the sharp blade rested against her face and neck, pressing into the soft flesh. Even small movements could turn it from brace into weapon, and despite the sudden drop in the pit of her stomach as the airborne couple shifted back into dive, she scarce dared move... the swordsman's admonition notwithstanding.
Instead, her manicured hands simply gripped Slash's neck and waist more closely, trying to breathe evenly instead of yelling like she wanted to as the ground below suddenly loomed close once again. The sudden shifts in movement left her feeling dizzy, and disoriented... a sigh of relief escaped her lips as they touched back down, no worse for wear, thanks to the alien's repulsion magics.
As it happened, the sigh was premature. The welcoming earth split open beneath them, pavement and asphalt crumbling away into a hollow void of a black space, the undercroft of a city that never saw daylight to begin with... a darkness so utterly pitch black that it stifled the very sounds of their descent.
She knew not how long they fell, but she did feel the dull impact of stone cruelly bruising her, broken girders shredding her new raiment scarcely after having conjured it, as she slipped slowly, but surely from the swordsman's grasp.
The last ten feet were unrestrained freefall, landing in a pile of debris that knocked the breath from her lungs, choking out her cry of pain before it had a chance to form. Her shapely form floundered on the broken rocks, battered once again, bruised, cut, and bloody, lungs screaming for air but finding none. The shorn, scant remains of her clothing clung wetly to her form, slowly soaking crimson from several shallow wounds, her hands alternately clutching the merciless rubble and the Staff at her side. Barely cognizant of anything beyond her own world of pain, she knew not where the swordsman had landed, but hoped desperately he'd find her.
There was something almost ironic about this situation to the Bronze as he continued to tear and rip, the enfolding creature around him continually regrowing new tentacles and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. A creature of Pure External Chaos trying to get under the skin of one of partial Mechanics and Law, a being who felt that Logic and the simplicity of Mathematics was the building blocks of his personal reality.
To most 'pure' dragons, this would be a time of panic. s**t for most mortal creatures, this would be a time where gibbering in the corner rocking against a wall holding your knees against your chest would be the logical response. But Tonro was unlike 'most' mortals for he was a being that life and death were intimate concepts. He would die and be reborn, but only in ALL DUE TIME. He knew his deaths and he remembered his lives, however repetitious they might be in the employ of The Master Librarian.
He Knew His Deaths.
And he would not die this afternoon. He would not be contained and he would not listen...He Would Not Listen.
Because it was not in his nature to know. And that was what not in his nature to know, he could not know. He would not know. For, as he thought; it went against his nature.
Under the pile of grotesque growths, the creature that enveloped Tonro would begin to bulge outwards in two directions, silvery lines of electricity quickly dancing along the beasts skin cooking it from the inside out. And with a sudden explosion of viscera and gore, the dragon stood there, his humanoid body covered with a coating of metal in the namesake color of his race tinged with green around the edges, a pair of giant draconian-like metal wings stretching fifteen feet across from tip to tip spread wide, his ruby eyes staring into the sky blankly with Outer Creature blood running down the corners of his mouth where he had chewed his way out from mental damnation.
The elongated nails of his fingers spasmed, palm up with his elbows against his side, the electrical discharge still crackling between his fingertips.
”I am....the Death who Walks Before. And you will be mine.
His voice was cold, precise...detracted from reality. And slowly with the sound of stressing metal, his neck slowly bent forward and rotated in a circle echoing over the disaster zone was not unlike steel being ripping in half.
The wings screeched not unlike a circular saw blade cutting into a nail as they compressed against his back, the weapon he held earlier still tucked close against his body. Bringing his palm down to it, Tonro held the weapon in his hand and within moments, the metal of it changed form to match his skin before shrinking and disappearing into his palm. With a deep intake of his chest as the metal expanded, the Ruby-eyed Dragon took a step forward followed by another.
He replied to Hitomi, working his way around the crater, pondering certain current circumstances.
”Yes, I do remember hearing about that now that you mention it. My security was vexed in how you managed that. They first believed you were another piece of the Ertai puzzle. Arthur was kind enough to dissuade them of that line of thinking after analyzing your portal aura.
With her halting, Bravot turned slightly always to keep her on his left, the red lines running down his unblinking face continually fading away as the reconstruction process of his body under the mirage-cloak continued at it's usual pace.
”I am glad to say that your 'help' if offered would have been a true folly of monumental proportions. The creature known as Ertai's body works on a certain....balance, if you will between Psionic, Divine and Arcane energies. I was able to remove two of the pillars of his power for a time. If you had interrupted, he would have drained you of your entire life force, quite possibly survived my little trap and went on butchering his way across this city.
You saved lives by knowing your limits.
And for that, I thank you.
Noticing that the UWP officer had ignored him to go play with The Bronze, Bravot felt his ire rising from it's usual complacency when dealing with this group of rabblerousers. No respect for authority in this town...and people using Elder magic. He would need to have the nin follow the man who dealt in such things. Their sanity was always in question and if there was a 'group' out there that wanted Sigil more than the Devils and Demons and Angels and Chaos-fiends.....it was the Elder Races, those banished not just outside one universe, but banished outside ALL Normal Universes, for a definition of normal obviously.
He allowed a lot of things because people had proven to be trustworthy to stay in character. This Roen beast was said to summon Chaos, in some fashion. Between the unknown Doyle and Roen, it was seeming as this place was going to need a cleansing far sooner than he'd calculated earlier in the year.
”As for assistance, I can't say I'm too keen on the restoration of the Mage Guild. They have been under poor management for far too long. The last two Head Mages were, suffice to say, certifiably insane in most worlds. But they were able to keep the factions from murdering each other, so they had their good points.
After we have this settled, I can't see why the Library can't be helpful in backing you in your mission.
If, once the dust settles, you feel as if there is anything to save.”
Tilting his head up to the left, Thomas stared in the direction that Tresondros and his Merry Band of Misfits had run off to, his left sapphire eye dilating slightly as he looked out the eye of one of his Dragonettes at the scene near the Illmater Hospital.
Watching the scene as it played out in front of him, he was vaguely happy not to be anywhere in the vicinity. There was certain things in this world he didn't need to experience and what happened to Tresondros seemed like one of the big ones. Listening to the words, Bravot smiled to himself.
How....interesting.
Well it seemed that Raven/Ravenna was getting worse. He needed a way to deliver a message to the group he was spying on.
And look what was dropping out of the sky.
Shaking his head slightly in amusement as the foursome of bodyguards began to pull various esoteric weapons from under their jackets at the cry, Bravot held out his free working hand to stop them, ignoring the beauty of the creature that appeared above his head and dropped to the ground.
”Your right on schedule, Mister Oz.
He mused in reply, a slight tilt to his head as he heard the tearing of flesh down in the crater. Glancing in Tonro's direction, a single eyebrow raised at the new appearance of his creation as he continued to evolve under the bio-organic virus Tonro had implanted in himself. That was going to be worth some study at a later date.
”Oh, I think we have more problems than even you realize, Mister Oz. It seems that a...individual has upset my Dragon by attacking him. And he is about to be torn to pieces for his trouble. And it seems your master is across town playing with Raven.
With one unblinking eye locked into the being known as Oz's and the other still dilated as he watched the scene, Thomas felt himself becoming very conflicted. He had a hole in his chest and felt the tears of blood from his burned away eyelids fade into tears of salt water. His metal right arm slowly came up to hold against his chest, the fingers digging into the palm, the mirage-cloak over his causing the false-flesh to look as if he'd pierced his palm and blood ran in rivulets between his fingertips before turning into black oil as it left the field.
Watching the Death of Raven and the attack of Red on this unknown player, Bravot had a almost unquenchable urge to force the Crystalline Dragon to fly him across town and let Tonro rampage his way like some giant monster movie and deal with the repercussions at a later date while he dealt with saving the one female he really had anything remotely that looked like feelings for.
It was troublesome, this life of his.
”Mister Oz....I might be usually a very mellow individual. I do not let emotions get the better of me. But you might want to let your....associate know, that if the female known as Raven dies because of him, I will happily burn everything he holds dear to the ground laughing all the while.
He said as he turned away from it all, his eyes focusing on the station floating high above and smiled sadly, his right hand held over his shoulder as a cellular phone was placed in it already dialing.
”Control. Hestavar Inverted. Centered on Dragonette 11237....that is One One Two Three Seven. Twenty meters across. Yes. Thank you, my dear.”
And with those words high above them all, a bright golden cylinder of light was sent through a prism and the first firing of the Sun Cannon was activated, enveloping Tresondros, Red, Ravenna, J and quite a large portion of the Hospital giving the Psion a direct link to his goddess. It was no ordinary portal, but one designed to take energy from other realms and divert it into this city-torus. Thomas Bravot had hoped to use it in another, more violent fashion but alas, the situation had become untenable for him.
He could be in only so many places at once and this was the best he could offer to the Lady Ravenna.
Hopefully, it would be enough no matter who he had to work with.
Lucky enough, for now, the troublemaking psion would possibly consider it just a modern day miracle and Oz would possibly keep it from his creator; at least for a time. He might even forget it. Thomas could only hope.
”Now....Mister Oz. What can I help you with?”
He replied as the beam of light continued to pulse from the station down to the ground as he handed over the phone and took another lit cigarillo to place in the corner of his mouth, his metal arm dropping down to his side to hide the soft pitter patter of oil-blood on the stone as it began to heal it's wound.
Hopefully those who found themselves within the portal-beam wouldn't panic...if they ran into the walls of the portal, they might be transported to Hestavar or they might be destroyed. He wasn't quite sure of the exact mathmatics just yet as he was planning on some smaller scale tests first.
But for now, as long as the portal cylinder was active, they were safe. And hopefully the off-the-cuff idea would help just that little bit.
Slash, despite the many tricks up his figurative sleeves, was hardly immune to surprise; his own shock at the ground giving way beneath them partially contributing to the loss of his...associate?
Captive was probably more accurate, but such had never been his intent!
In his effort to save the girl from one ill, however, he had delivered her into the night-dark jaws of another; both swordsman, and sorceress, now plummeting into the depths. His cloak unfurled noisily at his back, likely creating quite the silhouette in the radiant halo above. Unlike Eli, the Wanderer had somehow managed to avoid the worst of that initial debris; suffering far greater damage to his pride, surely.
Likewise, the fall had not been so great as it would seem.
Instead of descending into some bottomless hell, Slash found his feet upon an uneven pile of rubble; his own weight, and the force of impact, dislodging some of the smaller fragments and sending him tumbling down the side. He was vaguely aware of the absence of his swords...likely dropped after the fall...and reached out to try and locate them.
The dust that obscured his sight, and elicited a stream of coughs from his throat, would not hinder his more defined sense.
All the same, as he worked over their surroundings, the warrior scrambled to stand; gazing upwards, and into the polluted air...Trying, in vain, to see if the girl had survived.
He'd likely have heard her long before he saw her... pained gasps trying to force air into deflated lungs, soft whimpers and the crackle of crunching cement gravel as her legs dislodged small avalanches of the debris below her.
White and black dust, the grime of collapse, settled slowly onto her form, nearly camoflauging her already porcelain-pale skin against the equally untinted concrete, barely illuminated but for the scarcest lance of dim twilight filtering down into the chasm.
But all the swordsman had to do was follow the trail of torn silk, tiny azure pieces of it hanging in the stale, still air to record her passing... and the darkening stain of fresh blood dripping into powdered cement.
Or perhaps... he could follow the blacklight of her inconceivably powerful staff, the head palpably smoldering with the continued effort of flooding its abused vessel with its unfathomable energies.
With the dust beginning to settle, Slash could finally see her seemingly unconscious form; wasted upon the rubble like some beautiful statue...dropped from above. He'd located his scimitar, and charged dutifully up the manufactured hill. Either sword returned to his hand as if of there own accord, and were quickly sheathed.
He crested the mound, and dropped to his knees before the fallen woman; his only connection to the course of events that had led him here.
"No...Get up...Get UP!!"
The swordsman shook her once, twice, and then a final time; demanding that she return! It was all he could do in this situation, but...
Something flickered at the back of his mind...a warning flash that he knew all too well. The sensation of hairs rising on the back of his neck, paired with a prickling chill that rode the full of his spine.
They were not alone down here.
"I should have known..."
Slash would stand, shakily at first, and then scan the full measure of their locale. They'd found themselves in what appeared to be a large antechamber; walls lined with tunnels to match the formed masonry of the room at large. This was no natural cave, but...rather...a structure beneath the ground. He could vaguely make out the rippling shimmer of standing water, and could almost hear it rushing around nearby.
