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Julian was thrown off Sin, the blow hurting him just as bad as most of her attacks had. He ended up lying flat on his face, his wings spread out like a broken bird. There wasn't much left him him, he was quickly losing hope that he would make it to the end of this fight. But that wasn't what was important. Surviving wasn't what was important. Protecting and saving his friends was the only thing that mattered. In that moment he didn't think of any of the other consequences, all he thought of was doing as much as he could for as long as he could.
Anything to help his friends.

He got up, as quickly as he could (Which wasn't terribly fast, but eh). Something had changed in him, he didn't stand the same way anymore. His eyes... the pupils were gone, all that was left were huge golden irises surrounded by inky black sclera. And, despite everything he had taken, despite all the pain, the agony, the sorrow, he stood with a warrior's stance, ready to fight until the bitter end.

"I will not let whoever made this world take my friends away from me. I won't!" He might have laughed at Belladonna's words if he hadn't been lost in his own emotions.
He was weak, but not that weak and he launched himself into the air, coming down at Mort in a dive. As he plummeted down, the bracer on his left wrist, the one he'd gotten from the king, glowed and enveloped his talons in a green fire.
It wasn't a terribly strong attack, but it hit it's mark and he dodged away as soon as he had slashed at the manifestation.

The room was growing gray, were they running out of time? They needed to finish this, and quickly

The faerie tripped back a few steps from her attack, still glowering at Mort when she noticed... Sin on the floor. And familiar green seeping out.
That bad copy dream b***h was healing him.
"You're just as stubborn as your actual self!" The faerie growled as she swung forward with her staff. The end pointed down against the Eladrin's chest as she continued to frown.
"I like your succubus form better." With a sudden rush of green as a bundle of rose vines shot forth to obscure Sin. The faerie stood there a moment longer before she shoved the staff down until it clinked against the floor.
"I am vastly sorry..." And she was, if the quick hand pressed to one eye that came away wet was not an indication.

Using Blessing on Sin!

(( bonus damage from kingdom ability go

....wow you're pissed Mort ))

His dagger had struck, but only barely. He grimaced from where he lay, and pushed himself to his feet, only in time to see Belladonna destroy Sin, completely and utterly.

Of course, that as about the time that Mort decided to be well and truly pissed.

Alexander kept his silence for a moment, giving the King his time to rant, to rave, to cut at them with words that were meant to hurt more then any mere blade could. It was when he said the word monsters though that Alexander had to laugh, the sound coming out of nowhere. It was so ridiculous, how could he not? In there true home, in the real world that they so desperately were trying to return everyone to, that was just what they all were.

Monsters. Like it was some kind of insult, he called them monsters. Alex continued to laugh, uncontrollably, unable to stop now that he started. The only thing in that moment that could halt the gales of laughter that bubbled forth was a flash of white hot light, the sound of humming, of power, just before Mort threw himself at Belladonna. Ya, that finally cut him short.

"No, Mort!" he called out, rushing forward himself in an attempt to pull his attention away from the fairy that he knew to to actually be a Reaper, a Witch.

A monster. If only Mort knew the truth behind those words.

When the attack was turned upon him, he was almost sorry he had put himself in it's path. The power behind it pummeled against his miasma shield, cracking it, weakening it until there was almost nothing left. The boil fell back onto the ground again, using two arms to shield himself from the onslaught, not that he helped even in the slightest. Pain lanced through him, as though every nerve ending in his body was set aflame, as though he had quite literally been set on fire.

Was there any version of Mort, any at all, besides the one that had grown to become his best friend, his zombro, that didn't want to completely destroy him in the worst way imaginable?

And then the attack was done, the King backed off, leaving behind a dhampire who was huddled down on the floor, teeth gritted tight, eyes closed against the pain.

"That wasn't me." He whispered, his voice hoarse. "I am not that Alex, nor would I want to be!" His voice raised in both strength and volume as he slowly uncurled himself from his place on the floor.

"A lonely man who traversed the land with no family to speak of, no loved ones to cherish, and who so desperately craved the attention of others that he would steal, cheat, and lie to gain it? That is not happiness, Mort!" He struggled up to his feet, stumbled, almost landed back on the floor but managed to catch himself.

The ceiling about him began to crack, to crumble and fall, revealing an inky black sky above, and a tower in the distance. The floor quaked beneath his feet.

"Back in my world, in your true world I have love. I have friendship. I have a home, I have happiness."

He looked towards Sophie, then gestured towards her.

"I have a family. And you, you are a part of that family as well."

He shook his head, very pointedly looking up towards the ceiling.

"No Mort. There is no happiness here to destroy. You will come to understand that." His second dagger flashed in his hand, he was ready to take this man out, this copy of his friend, and to have him understand.

....And then the man flew away, leaving a gaping dhampire behind.

"JACK DAMNIT! We have to go after him!" He stated, as though that wasn't already quite obvious. He took a few shaky steps towards where the dagger he'd thrown earlier lay, and bent down to retrieve it. With their power, he could run, and he could run fast. There was a chance that they could still catch him and end this.

He nodded at Sophie, though he looked tired, his body abused, his face haggard. "Yes, let's go."

Little time was given between the finishing blow on Sin and the words that followed, not even time enough to prepare oneself for any sort of attack. Belladonna was left to only stand there a moment and stare at where Sin had been, feeling guilty as hell but knowing it was right, and then snap her head around to see Mort attack her. A cry ripped from her as she staggered back but still felt the attack, surprised that he was hitting her at all when he hadn't this entire time. It hurt fiercely and when the attack was finally directed elsewhere, the faerie still lost her footing and crashed to the ground in a heap of gasps and pain.
And just as the physical pain was settling, the King felt it within his power to grant the emotional sort as well. Betrayers, they were traitors and liars. Each one of them a fake, a nearly flawless copy that had only just recently had control over their lives. Before that... They were all invented. By Mort, yes, but... Still just a creation not of their own.
Yet how did they explain that? When everything was steeped so fully in rage and disgust? Mort's words rang out and though they weren't yet directed at her, Belladonna still hated how angry they were, how bitter and how un-Mort. At least she was given the benefit of being the last, for when she finally was able to sit up and turn her tear stained face at him, it was her time to be destroyed.

A moment stretched out, agonizingly silent as that broken, enraged face looked down and found nothing it wanted.
In another lifetime there would be an apology for this moment. In another world they would both beg forgiveness and Belladonna would cry and tell him how hard she'd tried, how difficult this was and by some miracle of fate, he would understand. He would know, if he remembered this moment at all, that the girl on the ground who sat there with wide eyes and a ruddy tear stained face, who took all his harsh treatment without a word suffered so acutely because she loved him.
But even the knowledge that this was all fake, that all those fuzzy, loosening memories were just a dream, did not soften the blow. It still hurt far worse than anything in her life and the faerie still choked on her own breath when his voice cracked. And though she had been silent thus far, his last question brings out a startled, "Mort, no, please--" because that is the one thing she cannot handle. Having always been more than enough that she would happily toss herself into harm's way for him, the fact that even his subconscious would doubt that is the worst insult of all.
Involuntarily her head dropped to the floor, her cheek pressed against the cool marble as she bit her lip and tried not to sob. Hecate damn it, it wasn't real! It was fake and a lie and yet why did it hurt like reality?
Fingernails scrambled against unrelenting ground, tried to find a reason for all of this and returned to empty.

The sudden shout from Alexander snapped the faerie up and she hastily clattered to her feet, clumsy hands doing their best to snatch tears off her face. But they kept coming and she felt a fool for crying, but it was to be expected. No one could really think she would be that strong to take in his words without a few tears shed?
A sensation against her hand made Belladonna stop as she looked to see Sophie next to her, kindness extended in the wake of sorrow and the faerie did not bother to stop herself as she reached out and brought the girl into a fierce hug.
"Its not real." She murmured against Sophie's hair, for their mutual benefit though it might seem the words were more for the one who was crying. After a second the faerie let her go and wiped one more streak of wetness from her cheek. The staff that had been forgotten during all of that was retrieved and Belladonna nodded at Julian, a silent thanks of his loyalty. Tea sounded amazing right now, but it would be bitter if they did not succeed, if it could not be shared with Mort.
"We'll get him back." Belladonna announced, and then she was off, running toward something she didn't know apart from the fact that if they didn't hurry, they would lose. And she had already promised that this love would not be in vain.



[Exit]

There wasn't anything left to say. They all knew what had to be done, and that was that.

Trying to remember just how it was done, Alexander stared at his daggers, concentrated, and then clashed them together, feeling a surge of power rolling through him.

With a glance towards Sophie he gave her a small smile. "See you at the tower, Sis." No Sissy today, she had earned better then that. .

And then Alexander took off out of the castle at speeds he would never be able to hope to achieve again in his lifetime.

((exit))

Sophie was off after them in a flash. There was nothing any of them could say anymore that hadn't already been said. They didn't have a choice anymore. She made her way to the Tower.


[EXIT]