Hopeite's previous injuries had cleared up and she was looking for another fight. She needed to keep up the rouse that she was public enemy number 1 for her plan to keep moving forward. Not like it was hard for Hopeite to find someone to beat up on her. If he just hung out long enough a white moon ******** usually wandered into range and picked up on her scent. Then all she had to do was talk a big game and take the inevitable beating. And if there were no White Moon senshi around, then she'd made enough enemies in her own faction to ensure that someone would come around to bother her. A few well placed insults here, a jab at someone's pride there. Sooner rather than later she'd be taking a beating there too.
The only issue was that there was no one out that night. Hopeite had been all over this stupid city and there was no one around to pick a fight with. Just Hopeite and the stars. Didn't someone once tell her that the senshi who plagued this city all came from those stars? Like they were... reincarnated aliens for some s**t. Did... did they come from those same stars in some capacity? Aren't the corrupted senshi the same thing, just... twisted by chaos? Did they also come from up there...
An alarm going off somewhere in the city drew Hopeite's attention from the heavens to the earth below her feet. Here in the broken down end of the city, the alarm could have meant anything but... given the scent of smoke that reached her nose in that moment it was probably a fire alarm. Well, she always had been a bit of a misanthrope. Maybe there was some trouble to be made where the disaster was taking place. And so, Hopeite followed the scent of smoke to the site of the fire to see if she couldn't throw some gasoline on the flames.
Except for that it wasn't a fire at all, but rather...
Half youma?
Hopeite had heard rumors about them too. Wayward Captains or Lieutenants who thought that they could control the beasts who ultimately ended up devouring a piece of the proud agents.
"Damn," Hopeite breathed, leaning heavy on the wall beside her and taking a hungry drag of her cigarette.
"Who broke the ugly stick over your head, kid?"
Posted: Sun Oct 15, 2017 7:05 pm
The clouds spoke of rain, and Faustite dreaded it. He knew nothing of how water running down the pipes might interact with his delicately balanced constitution. Would he drown if he collected rainwater? Would he have to lean over the edges of buildings to dump the water out? Apprehension forbade him from testing any such theory.
And at the first droplets coming from the sky, tapping shoulder and hair, Faustite chose to duck away from its reach. The sole alcove available was the overhang to the movie theatre, where glass panes guarded electrified posters and carpet crawled the ceiling between canister lights. Soon, a light sprinkle stirred beyond his sanctuary, and he watched it with jaw tight and legs restless. he wanted to pace, to scrim, to move. The light shower only taunted him by dotting the ground. Could it be dangerous? Faustite felt trapped; should he chance the weather, or stay behind?
Then a more insidious question arrived: was his life so worth protecting?
The creature-boy sighed, with plumes billowing from pipes in tandem. They sprawled over the ceiling, traced the lights, coiled softly into the canisters. The longer he stayed, the more the alcove filled with his murky presence. The raw scent of rain on the air inevitably gave way to copper and moondust, with hints of the ocean long since missed. He learned to resent the smell of himself — he hated how he generated so much atmosphere indoors, where speaking in private quarters became impossible. And even in these outdoor respites, where the air was just stagnant enough and barometric pressure laid heavy, his presence still coalesced. He began to fade into his own vaporous existence.
A machine's shriek startled him from his thoughts. It screamed and railed and rang into the surrounding air, proclaiming its high alert. It called any and all to look ath the boy who sighed smoke. The one who took cover from the rain like it hailed bullets from the sky. Faustite gritted his teeth.
He nearly missed the advent of the lieutenant in all the noise. She wore browns with browns and more browns, in a too-short skirt with schoolgirl bows on the backs of her stockings. Her shoes and gloves matched. A piss-yellow bow in her hair, perched like an unkempt moth, drew the eye too well. Then she spoke, and he disliked her even more.
"Put that out," he snarled back at her. The alarm still rang in his ears. He paced, his fingers working against his palms with restless energy.
"Is this how you address your superiors, Lieutenant? You must be looking for a bad day."
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 9:41 am
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Hopeite made a sound in the back of her throat as she pushed off of the wall, hollowing her cheeks around the drag she took on her cigarette. She held the smoke in her lungs, delighting in the burn it caused to radiate from her chest, ebbing out and out into her limbs and fingers. She approached the strange young man and exhaled at long last, blowing a cloud of smoke into his face that was so thick she lost track of his features for a second. When they did come back into focus, Hopeite took advantage of the moment of obscurity to take further stock of who she was messing with. A captain, judging by the feeling of his energy. Half youma, but with man-made augmentations. The pipes were added later... they had to have been. Surgery? What hospital would have done this? Unless... were there surgeons in the Negaverse? Somewhere in the sprawling mazes of head quarters? So then, had this boy been forcibly fused with a youma through incisions and sutures and not through normal channels?
The smoke cleared and Hopeite focused back on the young man's eyes, coal black and lifeless. His face, however, shone clear with irritation. Easy target. He had a chain a mile long and Hopeite wrapped it around her arm and began to tug.
"Why," she asked, taking another drag before gesturing to the pipes on his back. "Worried I'll smoke you out or something?" She smiled glibly, exhaling her next lungful through her nose.
"Besides, last time I checked I served men, not monsters," she punctuated her statement by flicking the still lit butt at the monster. "Let me ask you this, though," she purred beginning her circling, "If we as agents are soldiers, and youma are our weapons, doesn't that mean that youma are meant to be used and disposed of. So what does that make you?"
Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 10:35 am
The lieutenant approached, all brazen steel in her posture. Like ram rods held her back up straight. She waved about her cancer stick, her brand, and drew on it for the poison that powered her. He half-expected the outcome, but paused to see if she dared.
And she did.
And he slapped her for it, the sound cracking through the meager space.
But he had to draw breath, and with it came the incessant choking, the coughing. Faustite waved her stuffy presence about, but it clung to his hand, his nose, his mouth. He coughed again until the smoke — her smoke — cleared. He reproached her for it.
Restraint proved a tricky skill — one no longer mastered in his half-demonhood. He sought her face, sought the feel of her pulse beneath his black, avian hand and the tug of her mucles under fine bone. He caught her as she tossed the remains of her cigarette at his too-pretentious vest and he dared not yet squeeze. Ire smoldered in his gaze.
Faustite couldn't remember a time when he caught so easily from a few sparks tossed his way. He knew he had nothing to prove to a lieutenant, obstinate or otherwise. That his middling sense of humanity made no demand of answers to people like her. Was it the alarm, then, that still rang in their ears? Was it the feeling of entrapment as rain drummed down outside? The cigarette smoke and its acrid taste still cloying his nose? He couldn't place it.
'If we as agents are soldiers, and youma are our weapons … What does that make you?'
"Your superior," he answered as smoke exploded around them.
sweenys_revenge
Dispersion ;; Range: 3 foot radius with Faustite at the epicenter. Duration: 30 seconds Use Count: 3x Miss Chance: Circumventing magic, stepping beyond radius before execution, stepping out during the attack. Holding breath and closing eyes mitigates some of the effects. Effect: Faustite draws his hands together, and a sound curiously akin to an opening lighter may be heard. With a deafening blast, Faustite then envelops himself in choking smoke. Those caught in the radius of the initial blast endure a residual ringing in the ears and mild disorientation. The blast itself articulates as the billowing black smoke, and those who breathe it will suffer burning lungs, stinging eyes, and may cough frequently depending on their reaction to the smoke. The symptoms of ringing ears and coughing will linger after leaving the smoke, up to a maximum of five seconds. This attack is not intended to produce lasting damage (like lung damage or hearing damage), but may do so at the defending player's behest.
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 12:21 pm
As she was slapped, Hopeite's head swung around to the side with the force of the blow. Her lips hung slack, unsure at first at what had happened. when ti finally did register, the shock faded and gave way to anger. She turned her expression back to him and snarled, low and deep in her throat. She was just about to lunge at him when the sudden sound of what might have been a gunshot echoed through the alley. With the closed quarters and how close she was to the other, the sound bounced off of the walls around them and made the short trip back to Hopeite, deafening her. The world tilted sickeningly and she teetered with it, her equilibrium snatched from her suddenly. Her vision swirled with the disturbance of her center of balance and when it finally came back, she was clinging to the wall for support.
But the attack wasn't over. Hopeite opened her eyes to a thick wall of black smoke and immediately squeezed them shut again, but it was too late. Particulates in the smoke had already gotten into her eyes and caused them to burn and water. Even when she opened them, there was still no way to see past the tears the welled to clear out the debris to no avail. Even that, however, was not the end of the barrage. She took in a lungful of air to try and gain some kind of ground, but was met with nothing but black carbon smoke. Again, Hopeite doubled over, crippled by the sum and total of the attack she she had no time to prepare for.
She couldn't even run. All she could do was crouch on the ground to try and escape the thick fog of pitch that kept her paralyzed.
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 12:53 pm
It was the designated night. Or at least, the usual night that Harmonia got to meet up with her negaverse friend. Sometimes called, check in night, it was when the two of them could make sure the other was still alright and safe while also utilizing the evening to catch up. In essence, it was a girl's night. At least, that was how the teen viewed it. She and Hopeite had been getting along splendidly well, and Harmonia tended to forget they were on opposite sides of the war they were caught up in. They were sisters of a sort. At least that's what it felt like to the 17-year-old.
Their planned meeting point changed each time. It was a location chosen during their previous interaction. They needed to switch it up to keep Hopeite's superiors from realizing that the Lieutenant was meeting with a senshi. The poor woman had already received a beating from it. Harmonia intended to do her best to save her from another. So, changing locations, and even times, was useful.
Skipping from roof top to roof top, Harmonia utilized the citie's lower buildings to make quick time. It was drawing close to when she was to rendezvous with Hopeite and she didn't want to be late. She didn't want to make the Lt. worry needlessly.
Nearing the location of choice Harmonia noted something was terribly wrong. There was a stronger Aura where she was supposed to go. Fear crept up and gripped at her throat. Quickening her pace she eventually noted a weaker signature. "Oh no." She hit a full out run. Sure she couldn't tell for sure it was Hopeite. For all the senshi knew, she was running right towards a captain and their Lieutenant, but why there? Why at the one location she was supposed to meet up with Hopeite?
The thick smoke that hung close to the ground like an ominous cloud was the only visual indication of where she needed to be. Without hesitation or regard for her own safety, the Eternal rushed in while holding her breath. Eyes watered almost instantly at the acrid smoke as she looked for her friend. As it turned out, she bodily ran into not Hopeite, but someone else. The pipes that riddled his back like some odd new piercing trend jabbed into her body, almost slicing her on one arm.
Like a child trying to prevent a bully from winning, Harmonia placed two hands on the back, one finding flesh, the other more metal and she pushed, hard.
She sucked in air with the exertion and immediately began coughing as smoke filled her lungs.
"Hopeite!" She called.
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 1:20 pm
The lieutenant sucked down his rendition of her cigarette smoke and it left her gasping, crumpled. He released his grip on her as she slumped down into the caustic fog of his own devising, and Faustite considered her lesson learned momentarily —
An eternal's saccharine spike sang through the air, searing his senses far worse than Hopeite's cigarettes. The auric energy moved fast through the air in an ever-darting, ever-urgent manner, and Faustite found little time to react when blinded by his own heady smoke. There wasn't room to move with Hopeite before him and the movie theater wrapped about — a dead-ended labyrinth meant to trap the monster. And even if he found the room to escape, an eternal's speed proved too much for a captain ill-versed in aerodynamics.
He knew not it would arrive first, as the cloying aura clung all about him — a collision to his back laced bone-pain through him, tearing at skin and flesh with Stroud's haphazard surgery. He swam in his sea of pain, however, struggling to keep up from the undertow. A hand reached out to brace for a wall as an eternal's strength pushed further. Back and pipe worked against each other to his terrible chagrin, and he felt telltale rivulets meander down his exposed skin. Even if he wanted to straighten, he couldn't; something groaned within him so severely that he felt short of breath, short of strength. Was it a bend, a break, a bruise? He couldn't say, but his sudden pallor informed him nonetheless.
How do you know her name. Faustite drew a sharp breath. Where are you.
Black searched black through the fog of the attack. Seconds passed, wasted on his frustrating inability to see through his own smoke. Streaks of cotton candy dashed through lacquered blackness. Was that her? Do you fight for her?
Let's find out.
The captain caught sight of Hopeite's bent legs beneath the lower reaches of the cloud. He motioned, and the smoke reduced, distilled, compressed into a single seeking entity. It gunned for Hopeite's vulnerable passages.
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Occlusion ;; Range: Any single target within his 3' radius. Duration: Remaining time of Dispersion attack Use Count: 3x Miss Chance: All factors affecting Dispersion; if the former attack lapses or the opponent steps out of range, then this attack cannot be used. Effect: Using Occlusion immediately terminates all effects of Dispersion. Faustite draws all the smoke of his Dispersion attack into the lungs of the affected victim. Thus, the smoke passes through nose and mouth and leaves behind temporary, mild burns in these areas. When in the victim's lungs, the smoke condenses into a toxic fluid which triggers various symptoms. Water inside the lungs acts as an irritant and necessitates coughing and gasping, while the hot smoke aspect sears the lungs. Though very painful, this attack does not produce permanent damage. The carbonaceous water evaporates at the end of the attack. Any lasting damage may be incurred at the behest of the defending player.
Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 1:59 pm
Hopeite had never been happier to feel the familiar aura scrambling to meet her. For a moment, there was relief. Something that she swore was due to the rescue that Harmonia was going to provide for her. She tried to respond to her name but failed, sputtering something loosely sounding like Harmonia's name while she rapped helplessly on the asphalt below her. It took a moment to realize that even though she was an enternal... Harmonia's magic was support based. There was no offense to it. And she was still, above all else, a girl. Not a woman grown like Hopeite was, but a child. <********>. Hopeite had to move. She had to get out of the cloud that surrounded her and get a good lung full of air before she could make the next move. She had to save Harmonia...
No one touched Hopeite's things.
Just as Hopeite began feeling for the edge of the smoke, it cleared. And for a brief moment, she could taste pure oxygen on her tongue. She twisted her torso to find Harmonia and smiled, eyes red with irritation and the tears that stained her cheeks. But the relief was short lived. Heat on her nostrils and upper lip drew Hopeite's attention. Had the smoke burned her? She was about to called Harmonia's name, but the next lung of air betrayed her. The searing pain of unseen heat was back, causing her expression to twist in pain. When she tried again for air, she felt gurgling in her chest and whatever air she draw into her body was smothered by what felt like fluid in her lungs. Hopeite doubled over in a fit of rattling coughs, forehead pressed into the concrete with the force of it.
No.
This was not going to be how she went out.
Still unable to breath, vision narrowing and blurring from oxygen deprivation, Hopeite rose unsteadily to her feet and stumbled towards Faustite, hands curled into wicked little claws. Her nails found his face and she sputtered, saliva splattering from her lips with the effort it took for her to hiss, "you are nothing."
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 2:30 pm
It was a victory. The smoke lifted and sweet, pleasant air was able to fill her lungs. The lack of visual obstruction revealed a red and weepy-eyed Hopeite; a sigh of relief escaped the Eternal. She's alright! Perhaps a bit battered and coughing from smoke inhalation but she was alive and kicking.
The jubliant moment ended swiftly.
What had appeared as a win, a one up on the Captain, turned out to be a trick. Like a calm before the storm, a terrible tease of fresh air was given to them before the pouring of smoke coelescned together and bombared Hopeite. Harmonia could only watch in horror as the smoke pushed its way into nose, mouth and even Hopeite's eyes! No! She was only a lieutenant. She had no way to protect herself! How could the captain turn on one of his own?
Unless he found out about them? About their meetings?
The fear inside her gut grew like an unwanted weed. What should she do? What could she possibly do to save her dear friend from one of her own? How could she just stand there and watch Hopeite cough and struggle to take a breath she so depserately wanted...needed?
As if some miracle or just pure determination, the Lieutenant rose up and attacked the Captain. Using her nails as her main weapon she clawed and fought for her freedom. Hopeite wasn't struck with fear. She was fighting. Fighting for her very life against the pipe-infused Captain.
She snapped out of her fear.
"Harmony's Reproof!" She yelled.
Harmony's Reproof Raising her hands upwards, palms facing the sky Harmonia shouts her attack and a golden sparkle dome temporarily appears before fading out. Anyone within the AoE dome who has malicious intent towards anyone will feel a burning pain in their chest. The stronger the intent, the worse the pain is. If a character can let go of their malicious intent the pain will disappear. Duration -- 10 ft for 45 secs Avoided -- Out of AoE Range, no malicious intent Cons -- Very draining/pours a lot of energy into it and will affect -anyone- in the dome.
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 2:44 pm
His back still screamed its bitter melodies at the prospect of moving. Faustite remained in his half-crouch, his shoulder wedged against mottled wall. Parting the smoke gave him view of the intervening eternal: all blue and pink and white all over, with smatterings of yellow. She looked young and hopeful, expectant of a win. Expecting that damage done was enough, that Faustite had no further strengths in him.
But the lieutenant fought the smoke now coalescing in her lungs. Hopeite, he remembered. And Hopeite approached with fire in her eyes and steel in her stride. She brandished her hands like youma. She set upon him, her lieutenant's strength slowing her to a pace he could catch, and a thin arm rose up in parry. It meant little with the way she clawed despite the thin appendage, raking across his face in brutal strokes, and Faustite hissed back the burning pain accompanying them. She would not stand through this —
Faustite reached for her, for arms set to tearing, and sought to pull her down. Coughing as she was, he could cover her throat without incident. He could drown her yet.
He could extinguish one of the seldom-seen traitors —
Yet in struggling with her, his chest flared in certain agony. A fire broiled, coiling and licking over heart and lungs and searing out all breath he had left. His throat cooked, his crest crumpled, his bones embittered with potent flame and he retracted into himself. Heat seared his mouth shut and pulled his lips back into a grimace. He groaned out the last of his charred air as he managed a last push at the lieutenant. He couldn't breathe, not with the agony ensconcing his chest.
But Negaspace was a practiced thought, and a needful one at that. He dreamt of cool corridors, of blackened rooms and luminous crystals. He dreamt of a safety far from here — and far from them. Out of the rain. out of the fire.
Out of the decrepit city.
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 3:06 pm
She was weak, Hopeite knew, but she was also pissed. Honestly, she couldn't think of another time that she had been this angry. She couldn't breath, couldn't see, and she was suddenly very aware that her first feeling, before even the jealousy and territorial rage that she felt when Faustite lunged for Harmonia was... concern. However, the rage boiling inside of her did not lend her shaking muscles, so when he pushed against her, she relented, sucking in another unsatisfying breath of air that she inevitable choked on.
Even worse was when Harmonia called out the name of her attack and pain spread further and faster through her body. Pain pulled her backwards and pushed her into the ground with it's force. The pain flared through her body like a wildfire and seared every nerve ending. She might have screamed, but she wasn't sure over the sound of her blood in her ears. With the pain rasing suddenly in her veins, so too did the anger from before. She hated Faustite for suffocating her. She hated Harmonia for being so ******** confusing. She hated Painite for awakening her and not teaching her what to do next. She hated the mason jar of starseed on her mantle, sitting like a triffle to be gazed upon but largely ignored. She hated... She hated... She hated... she hated the negaverse for making her this way. She remembered her life before Painite had taken hold of her and... she hated, for just a moment, what she had become.
And then all of that anger, like a fuse tripping, suddenly went out of her, and with it, the pain of Harmonia's attack. Breath returned to her lungs as Faustite fled back to the depths he clawed his way out of. She lay for a long moment, gasping loudly as the oxygen rushed back into her blood and centered herself. Her vision snapped back to it's normal field and after a moment of collection, Hopeite stood. She dusted herself off, summoned her cigarette, and took a long, meditative, hungry draw on it.
"I need coffee," she finally said after a moment moment of silence. "Let's go get coffee, kid."
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