Was it smart to go out sketching things at night? No, not particularly. That was why she was also texting a friend. Crouching low to examine a collection of potted plants, she shot off another quick message.
Quote:
I haven’t heard any growling, so I think I’m fine. I mean, most youma growl before they attack people, right?? That’s how that works??
Keeping her phone down at the bottom of her page next to her stomach, she began to move her pencil lightly over the page, mimicking the spirals of petals clustered together. The deep burgundies, oranges, and yellows, proclaimed them as seasonal preferences from what she understood. Autumn colors. They were pretty, delicate things. The air was nippy—that morning, she’d found frost on her car—and judging with how the slow moving bar was still open next to her, she hoped the staff would bring the plants in so they didn’t get hit by the chill.
Around her, groups of people were few and far between. Some milled around the door to the bar, or other similar establishments further down the street. But it was why she wasn’t powered up. Going around as Solaris, wings and all, was… not as easy. She didn’t just blend in. People didn’t try to grab her wings when she was in a human guise.
Trying to grab her a** was a different story, but—
Her phone buzzed, and the screen lit up, drawing her attention down.
Quote:
I don’t think that’s how that works, who told you that?
Kyrie snorted, smiling a bit.
Her nails clicked slightly against the screen as she typed back.
Quote:
Doesn’t everyone say that???
Her snicker died down as she realized, though, that sarcasm probably didn’t… translate well in text… Groaning, she quickly added to that.
Quote:
No one
Quote:
I’ve never heard that. Just keep your eyes open and be safe.
"Yes, mom," she beamed towards her screen. Her pencil began to move again, and her smile lingered. It just felt… good to chat with Devyn. Socializing, she’d begun to realize, was something she was relearning. Readjusting to. Centuries alone, she figured, could do that to someone. As confident as she’d always been, she didn’t remember feeling so… awkward? Maybe she had—surely, she had—but it just felt… different, somehow. But the sort where she didn’t need to hide herself? Oh she far, far preferred that than the random chit-chat she found in bars and clubs,
Quote:
Have you ever dealt with a non-growling youma???
She paused to shoot back the question, eyes crinkling with mirth as she caught her tongue between her teeth.
Further down the street, where the lights weren’t as bright, she heard a shout. The people around her didn’t seem to take notice, or perhaps they just didn’t want to. Crime wasn’t a new concept to her, and she’d been warned that while friendly, helpful authorities and Order patrolled the streets, so did plenty of others.
Frowning, she closed up her sketchbook and put away her things into her satchel, standing up slowly.
Quote:
Nvm Is it normal for people to be shouting?
The reply to that came rather quick as she began to walk down the sidewalk.
Quote:
If there’s trouble. Do you want me to come find you?
She tucked her phone away under her jacket, feet moving slow and careful to silence her steps. An alleyway up ahead, she dipped down it. It split off behind the buildings, she realized, and somewhere back there was the source of someone shouting about something or other. She just wanted to check. But…
Yeah was already typed out, ready to send.
Strickenized
Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2022 4:23 am
The sound erupted from a middle-aged man in a three-piece suit. He had polished shoes, a patent leather briefcase, brand name glasses. Every morning, he greased his hair as he combed it back, ensuring no hair deviated from its place. Every morning, he frowned at the stretched holes in his patent leather belt (bought to match his briefcase) as he helplessly watched his belly expand over the decades. He had photos of his kids in his patent leather wallet, just like his father and uncle did. Photos of his wife, too, from before she moved into a separate house from him.
Today, a daring fringe of hair had flopped loose from their position. When he stumbled back, his pants hitched up to reveal clean, black Carhartt socks. He thought to himself, my daughter was right. This city's haunted.
He thought to himself, this only happened because my car's in the shop and there was an issue with the rental car. He could add to it — say the whole day was cursed, from that awkward meeting with the board of directors to the strange new gossip that he was flirting with the floor's secretary. The floor didn't have a secretary; Meg was from archives, and he wasn't flirting with meg. Meg had simply covered their conversation with laughter as their snooty accountant had walked by, because it would've been worse if he knew his boss was crying.
But Faustite hadn't cared what the man thought. He saw a sack of energy — one that ballooned with every harrowed thought in his head. He saw a representative of the white-collar sector, one of the leeches so far removed from actual work that they made incomprehensible money off of the people who had real jobs. Maybe this one was an ad designer, who cut ghosts free from their nameless confines and reassigned them a name, a family, context. Someone who made a designer drug banner ad out of a forgotten missing persons photo. Some copyrighter, who said this is my photo of not my face and sent cease-and-desist letters to anyone who hosted that same set of pixels.
Whatever he was, whoever he was, he was a problem and his own solution. "Not another sound," he warned the man as he walked toward him.
But the man was a stumbling fool with too much adrenaline in his system. "I don't want any trouble," he managed to stammer out. "Look, I'm just trying to get home to my kids —"
But the burning boy was gone, and something pressed against his mouth. Something hot, so he reached to pull it away. Dropped his briefcase when his skin began to burn. Grunted beneath what he realized was a hand.The boy had moved instantly, and he felt impossibly stronger than he looked. He was maybe Kayla's age —
"Melt your <********> face off," Faustite seethed, his words awash in the sound of cooking meat. His free hand was directed near his back, where it swelled with swarming violet energy. He felt himself shift backward and a reverberating hum fled up his ribs. The man yelped something pained.
"Dumbass," he muttered.
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Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2022 11:41 am
Slowly, Kyrie let her satchel slip down to the ground, crouching low herself as she inched the last few steps to the corner of the bar. She could hear voices—one far, far more desperate sounding than the last. Something about having kids. Her heart squeezed. Beneath the cover of her jacket, she hit Send on her message to Devyn.
Quote:
Yeah
Help was smart, period. Even if it ended up being unneeded, she’d rather apologize for a false alarm than risk a person’s life over her overconfidence.
The odor of cooking meat hit her, and Kyrie had to draw upon every bit of self-control—such a thing did exist in her, though that might surprise some—to keep her gag reflex to a minimum of her shoulders shaking in sharp jerks. Swallowing thickly—the smell made her eyes water a little, and swallowing just… brought a nearly… taste…—she forced herself to peek around the edge of the building. She needed to know what she was about to run into.
Bad enough that someone was roasting.
She could hear sizzling. Could see the man in his fancy suit, struggling against… a person? The figure looked humanoid, had all the right number of limbs and general shape. But there was… fire? In them? In their abdomen? She didn’t know of any species like that. Could youma be… humanoid like that?
She had too many questions, and no time to consider them. Sitting back behind her cover, she shot off a final message as she pulled her pen from her pocket.
Quote:
Someone’s on fire?? They’re attacking a civilian.
She sent what she could of her location with it, hissing out the phrase to pull on the mantel of Solaris.
A flare of energy, a flare of light, and Solaris was on her feet and around the corner before her brain even caught up to the situation.
She knew enough of it. Someone attacking a civilian. A civilian was burning. Her blood was running cold, though. Instinct recognizing danger even before her conscious brain set off the alarms. An aura. A very powerful aura, compared to hers. Twisted. Not sickly sweet. Not just wrong.
Solaris aimed her hand towards the ground near the burning figure. "Catalytic Spark!" Meant to push them away from the civilian, was her hope. If she aimed at them, it was too close to the civilian. But at the ground, the impact might still jar the civilian but… it wouldn’t be a direct hit of the explosion. The baseball sized orb of golden light shot forward.
It’s light left her bereft of the bliss of ignorance. The warning bells had been triggered. Chaos, mixed with something else. Her wings folded tight against her back, the instinct to reduce drag. To reduce her size and area that could be struck by an enemy.
Help, she wanted to send out. Because every warning bell was screeching in her head. This wasn’t that agent on her own level, power wise. This wasn’t that traitor Super Senshi. This felt up on par with Alastor. And they weren’t human.
Strickenized
Posted: Wed Oct 26, 2022 6:30 pm
An aura. Faustite's lip twitched into a snarl.
What lead he had over sensing the auric presence was burnt up in securing stolen energy. He spent his measure of concentration weaving it into a proper orb, then dismissing it to that strange extra space that held his cincher, spare energy, and an unconscionable number of snacks. He'd just dropped his free hand when he was pushed forward into his captive from the blast —
And the man shrieked, raw and pained, when an open flame pressed into the small of his back. He struggled and flailed with what strength he could conjure before he felt something else force him forward, some pressure between his shoulder blades, and he was sent stumbling. He groaned long for the mounting agony on his back as the skin tightened and his muscle cooked into a contraction, but he pushed himself to gain some distance without looking back. Whatever it was, whatever else was there, he didn't want to know. He didn't care. It didn't matter. He knew he needed a hospital, and he wasn't going to get one by sticking around.
Faustite hissed, his breath sizzling, as he turned toward this offending new presence. His spine burnt with the ferocity of the flames within him, urging him to hold his breath, and it was all he could do to remain standing straight.
"Think you can burn me," he seethed at the girl. Basic senshi. Smart enough to use magic, but no sense of self-preservation. May as well have been asking to die.
Scoffing, Faustite's form rippled and melted into pure flame. Gouts of it leapt and braided over one another, taking a winding path toward the senshi that shot at him. Fire bobbed, wove, danced about itself —
Then coiled up into an echo of his form before her, which brought a flame-wreathed palm up to strike underneath her chin.
kaefaux
Forgot to paste this in! No lasting effects on this one, it's illusion damage
Hellborn ;; (Enhancement) Range: Self Duration: Up to 1 minute Use Count: Up to 3x Miss Chance: Escaping his reach Effect: Faustite's fire expands and engulfs him, transforming him into a living embodiment of flame. For the duration of this magical ability, he appears fully youmafied. When he moves, he moves amorphously as a gout of fire. Faustite can pass through or over nonsolid surfaces, and cannot be hit by physical attacks. He becomes highly susceptible to magical attacks and enchantments, however. Any attacks he makes toward others will be fire property, and will provide the illusion of being burned.
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Posted: Fri Oct 28, 2022 11:26 am
The only bit of her plan that had worked out nearly to a level she’d hoped, was the fact her own magic hadn’t hurt the civilian. That was about it.
Those warning bells were screeching in her head, and Solaris knew she’d ******** up.
Knowing better than to use up all her magic immediately—and with it, her energy really—as the man began to scream from the fire-user being shoved against him, Solaris scanned the immediate ground for a makeshift weapon. She could smell fabric burning, more odor of flesh burning… all she found were fragments of broken pavement, but they were better than nothing. She managed to swipe up a couple of chunks in either hand just as the man… fell forward?
Instinct and self-preservation warred with duty. Part of her, the part that just wanted to survive, hoped the flaming humanoid would focus on the man. Going after him again would give her an opening to retreat enough—she could throw things from a distance, use her magic from a distance. But that other, annoying part of her… made her step closer to the downed man. She didn’t focus long on his injuries—and they were extensive enough that her stomach churned. Her gaze remained focused on the figure with fire coming out of its middle. It wasn’t a youma. She could figure that much.
Get between the civilian and the danger. It was all she found herself operating on. Stupid. Stupid, that’s what the self-preservation instinct in her was screaming. But the man got up, ran. Somehow. She was relieved for that. Adrenaline was a powerful ******** drug when it needed to be.
He’d be feeling all of that for a long, long time. But he could at least try to manage to get himself help.
Think you can burn me?
It spoke. Even worse. Solaris just gazed at it, stance bracing with chunks of fragmented pavement clutched in her hands. Useless things against a form of fire.
Faster than she’d really have wanted, it twisted and leapt forward towards her. Logic went out the window. She dropped one hand of the debris, pointing her fingers as a gun towards the silhouette of fire. One arm came up to block the limb—a fist?—coming up towards her face, trying to force the flames down. She could feel the flames lapping at her skin. A stupid reflex. Her eyes shut against the heat and the pain. Already she was sure her skin on her hand and arm were roasting. Was her face? But she snapped her other fingers near where both their abdomens were and shouted, "Catalytic Spark!"
At such close quarters, she knew the outcome before the orb shattered between them. The sudden rush of energy threw Solaris backwards, singing her skin almost as much as the fire had. Red, angry, her exposed skin meant a tangle of nerves firing pain signals. More bruises were likely about to form on her arms and abdomen—her air was punched out of her by the impact.
She landed on her a** a couple feet back, sure the pavement just sliced open her calves and palms when she tried to catch herself. Her other makeshift weapon was dropped somewhere.
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Kyuseisha no Hikari
help
Guine
sos
Posted: Sun Oct 30, 2022 9:44 pm
Alastor did not get to use his magic very often, and for longer than he could remember it was unreliable and unpredictable.
Except, things were different now, and he felt it more since he’d come back from his world. He felt stronger. More consistent. He had more energy, which was dangerous, because that meant he was trying to find more ways to burn up that energy.
Faustite was the unfortunate recipient of his most recent attempt. Alastor knew very little about him except that he was chaos, and he’d promised Sessrumnir that his first solution to dealing with chaos wouldn’t be to just kill them.
There were people under there. Well, maybe. Faustite challenged the thought in appearance alone, but it meant that Alastor was guilt-free when he cast his magic on him.
He didn’t need to call it out, nor did he need to devote much time to directing it; he and Sessrumnir arrived quickly and as unexpectedly as one could imagine for anyone with an energy signature. They’d made most of the trip here unpowered; Michael’s ability to sense energy signatures even without accessing his Knightly powers meant that it was easy to track their location without giving off a signature of their own.
They’d powered up when they were close, but still out of sight. When it was safe to do so.
Alastor didn’t focus on Faustite or his chaos; his attention was on Solaris and making sure she wasn’t hurt too badly.
He’d seen her flung backwards and so, getting her off the ground was his first priority. Alastor spent enough time running that he hardly even had to slow down between his rush to get there and his rush to scoop her into his arms. He figured it would be harder to hit if they kept moving, and he didn’t yet know the full situation so he circled Faustite as he carried her with him.
“Are you all right? What do you need us to do?”
Kaefaux
Guine
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Super Sailor Scout Attack: Absence
Alastor speaks the name of his attack and every enemy nearby will feel a complete absence of hope, replaced instead with a strong sensation of despair. The area feels thick with gloom and misery and targets may feel as if there is suddenly an unbeatable obstacle they have no chance to overcome. Targets may feel absolute hopelessness and they may become acutely aware of the hardships and loss in their life. The magic can make someone feel fatigued or physically exhausted and can be disorienting and emotionally draining. The magic lasts for thirty five seconds and has two uses. It affects all enemies within a twelve foot radius of Alastor and the magic will follow him if he moves, but the effects end if the character moves out of radius.
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Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2022 6:24 am
Sessrumnir could smell who they were dealing with before he could see anything.
He knew who he was now, of course. Ganymede told them all that it was Faustite who was known
The angry crackle of flame and choking smoke and blistering heat. He feared that they hadn’t been called soon enough, or maybe if they’d powered up sooner, they could have drawn Faustite’s attention. Or maybe it would have just made him speed up the process of killing Solaris and whoever else was around.
A certain dread creeped up his spine as they turned the corner and saw the flame engulfed form of the part-youma General. The last time Sessrumnir experienced Faustite’s abilities, he’d had his back to him and was fighting off a few others as well, so he didn’t get the full experience.
He would have rather not experienced it at all.
Not wanting to give Faustite a chance to teleport, Sessrumnir followed close behind Alastor as he silently used his magic while Sessrumnir swung his stormglass filled with water and various chemicals, at least one flammable, ethanol, and another that was non-combustible, but poisonous when burned --
And missed hitting Faustite.
But instead smashed the glass against the most solid surface closest to Faustite with the intention that the splash from the liquid would be at least annoying enough for him to leave.
“Go home, Chrysocolla,” he sneered as he quickly jumped back and away from any toxic fumes. “Tell the Queen, ‘Ganymede sends her regards.’”
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Kaefaux
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2022 6:30 pm
Faustite managed only a sizzling inhale before the pair was blown apart; the strange senshi may have sent herself skidding, but Faustite had been pushed away as if a flame accosted by a gust. While he didn't tumble and roll, he had felt the impact rattling through his bones and humming in his cage, but he also felt a searing, familiar heat. It felt like a spray of hot oil that spattered across his neck and the underside of his chin; he hissed and cupped his flame-wrought hands about it, protecting it while that initial wave of pain dampened to tolerable levels.
"b***h," he spat. "Reckless ******** t—" Reclaiming his breath, the burning thing paused, cast his attention about for the pair of auric penumbras that bloomed so near to them.
He hated being caught on the back foot. The signatures overlapped enough that they felt as though they were everywhere, and with no way to discern their directionality, Faustite was effectively blind. Flame eyes combed rooftops, nooks between buildings, narrow alleyways that were being subsumed by the structures about them — nothing. No incoming strangers in outfits endemic to an Eternal Senshi and a Knight.
(Capital K, he thought, with an air of frustrated affection for Ashanite.)
Then he caught sight of one — bright and dark, with blacks and heavy sleeves that flapped behind him as he sprinted for the girl who knocked herself on her a**. Faustite made to follow, but as he neared, he thought of his dad.
It was an obtrusive thought. Odd, out of the blue, unwanted and uncalled for. He hadn't thought of his dad for months, it must've been, and he felt guilty for that now. Perhaps those long sleeves reminded him of the Dark Mirror, and the sash — wasn't it a similar color? It brought him back to that terrible time, when he was silenced with a sash much like it, when he suffered his first panic attack.
He'd lost his brother that night, too. Before that, his mom. Before that, his humanity. The barrage of thoughts had slowed him in his pursuit of the new senshi, as if each thought was a heavy anchor that he then had to drag across the sea floor.
He lost his life as Elex, which caused the loss of Rowan's life. Rowan tried to kill himself afterward. There was Chrysocolla, who played the role of friend until she betrayed him to Schörl. Schörl, who disabused him of all hope, who gave him every reason to want the end of all days, who cost him so many experiences that he wanted to share with others. She deprived him of his personal autonomy until he left everything behind for the Rift.
He lost his old team. He lost his sister. Mirrorspace nearly killed him. His enemies refrained from ending him only because he was a wretched, piteous thing. A growing number of his team became turncoats. A generator explosion should have killed him. It took the benevolence of the White Moon to save him.
He led mission after mission to mediocre results. He was a stupid, angry boy, barely out of his teens, playing at being an officer in a never-ending, life-crushing war. Regardless of how many he killed, it never smoothed the pale keloids where loss had covered his heart. He knew it wouldn't — he knew he leaned on rage as the productive form of despair, but even now, even here, that rage started to cool. Tempered itself into stony resolution, then cold, unfeeling emptiness.
What did it matter? It was a simple question. It begat a simple answer.
It didn't. His actions didn't matter — they produced no results. His survival didn't matter — his family was dead. His legacy didn't matter — he was a middling officer beneath notice. Since that was the case, what did his life matter?
It didn't, he decided, as he swallowed past the tightening, spattered burn across his throat and chin. It wouldn't, so he could throw it away how he wanted. Why not here? Why not make a mediocre last stand and let this pair finish him off with their dipshit new girlfriend? Sessrumnir was here —
Faustite stopped, turned, his motions still dulled —
The storm glass smashed against a wall, sent shattered glass and fluid through his flame body and it rained down on the ground. Faustite remembered choking on that fluid, remembered retching as it caused his eyes to well and his nose to run. He remembered talking to that one.
And that went nowhere, too.
Flame licked away from the Jupiter Knight, and Faustite's transformation finally waned. He smiled against that bitter, ubiquitous doom. Albite would move on, he knew. That boy had a dozen others with whom he shared his heart, and he deserved that freedom. He and Jadarite would make better team leaders than he ever did. Tama would s**t on his ******** stool and insist they were all better off without him. Alkmene and Celadonite would bond over their shared loss, maybe use each other to get over him. Fafnir and Heliodor would have each other, eventually. Probably spit on his grave together. Schörl would laugh.
Faustite asked himself: why not?
In the absence of an answer, he sprinted at the Knight, and his caged flame erupted into a whorling, destructive inferno.
kaefaux
kyuseisha no hikari
guine
Meltdown ;; Range: 10' radius around user Duration: Up to 30 seconds Use Count: Up to 2x Miss Chance: Escaping range at or before the buildup stage Effect: By expending some of his core, Faustite can whip up a firestorm on a local area, prefaced by dancing cinders seconds before the burst. Inferno gusts orbit clockwise, burning anyone caught in their whorl. Friendly fire possible.
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Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2022 11:19 am
Blood welled and overflowed, the pain melding between her legs, stomach, and arm… she was pretty sure she’d fractured something, if not worse. Alien bones against something backing that much magical strength was a problem, and why she knew she was better off fighting from a distance. And yet…
Her wings were still tucked tight against her, a brace for worse impact as the fire figure began to curse her out. Tingles at the back of her neck drove fine hairs to stand on end. More auras. Two. There wasn’t any relief, not yet. The fight wasn’t over, the threat was still here. Solaris forced herself to her knees, aware of her skirt sticking to the back of her legs from debris and blood, and she cradled her right arm gingerly. The energies were welcomed, though. Close as they were, it startled her a bit. Her head tipped up, a ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of her lips as she spotted Alastor.
The benefits of keeping in contact with a friend.
She didn’t object when he picked her up, wincing slightly at the pressures against torn flesh but knowing better than to voice any complaints. Complaints were a luxury to indulge in once things were safe. The air felt thick with magic, and she just counted herself lucky she wasn’t suffering its effects.
The Knight of Jupiter she’d seen before was with him—she wasn’t exactly sure of his identity, but Solaris could certainly suspect—and she watched nearly transfixed at the eruption of flames from some liquid shattering onto the figure.
What did she need them to do?
Kill it, was what she wanted to snarl, and her lips curled as if to do so. But the Knight had called the figure a name, Chrysocolla. So it was a person?
They’d slown down, and she was grateful for the additional aid at this point. But the young face that eased back out of the fires sent ice through her veins. Another charge, this time at the Knight.
"Get out of here," she shouted—to Alastor, to the Knight, to the boy with flames for guts—as sparks of fire began to swirl in the air before the caged fire roared outward. Alastor’s movements meant her aiming wasn’t as precise as she’d wanted, and she knew she was at the limits of her energy and magical reserves. But terror gripped her heart in ice seeing the flames moving towards the man she felt sure had to be the current Sessrumnir. Her stomach fell, a sickening sensation of falling overcoming her. He was only here because of her.
"Catalytic Spark!" A snap of her fingers, and another spark set off a reaction, this time shooting a golden energy orb towards the ground, hoping to intercept the fire boy’s path.
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Guine
Strickenized
Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2022 8:31 pm
Briefly, Alastor understood why Sessrumnir had voiced his caution at outright killing the Negaverse. Sometimes, the magic hid the identity too well, but for the brief second that he saw the figure beneath the flames, Alastor thought he looked young.
Too young, he decided. Hypocritically.
He wasn’t afraid of fire, but there was a sinking feeling in his gut when it spread towards Sessrumnir. He thought, certainly, it must be better for him to just snap the boy’s neck. He was a preferable loss to Sessrumnir, who he’d had for what felt like minutes.
And they all passed quickly.
He wouldn’t leave without Sessrumnir.
Getting out of here seemed like the reasonable choice, especially when their enemy seemed so keen on exploding. Solaris’ magic offered little recoil for him; he kept running to circle around Faustite. He wanted to avoid the flames.
He wanted to make sure Sessrumnir got out of there. Safely.
Then, they could leave. Recuperate. They had first aid. Ephesus had healing magic.
Wounds could be tended to, he just didn’t want to lose anyone. And, if that meant he had to throw Solaris under one arm and Sessrumnir under the other and leave, fine.
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Posted: Thu Nov 03, 2022 8:59 pm
The last time he and Faustite had crossed paths and he’d experienced his abilities, it had left him practically writhing in pain for days after. At the time, the burns were nothing. Just charing already charred skin. The adrenaline made him numb to it. The grief and rage made him numb to any injuries he’d obtained. From Faustite. From the poison bladed General. The others that attacked him -- to prevent him from reaching Ganymede, he realized now.
Devyn hadn’t been there to help him during that time. He’d gone back to Alastor to sort through his own grief -- his own despair. Peter couldn’t be around him, either. Not when Peter felt so guilty about letting those youma in to sabotage what kept the Negaverse from teleporting.
He wouldn’t be surprised if he had scars. He hadn’t bothered looking. He didn’t care.
The whirl of an inferno was already there. There was no talking to Faustite this time. He could feel the heat on his face as the raging fire tore through the air, sucking the oxygen out of everything, including Sessrumnir’s lungs. Or at least that was how it felt. Fire replaced it.
Then an explosion -- An attack from Solaris? He wasn’t sure. He’d already abandoned his shattered weapon and gripped his hand around the fang by his side instead.
It took moments, and yet it felt too long, for the ghostly canine to emerge and plant herself firmly by his side.
He thought he could feel the heat through his clothes, the green and gold darkening in places where embers jumped and tried to spread.
Sessrumnir’s eyes remained where Faustite was, but he was also acutely aware of how close both Alastor and Solaris were. And he wouldn’t let this emotionally deranged inferno reach them, if he could do anything about it.
He didn’t have to say anything for Princess brace herself, and let out a deafening howl that might have aided the breaking of windows around them -- in addition to the fury of heat.
Even if her magic did nothing to knock Faustite back, Sessrumnir was prepared to stop the fire with his own hands if necessary.
Quote:
Summon's Ability: Howling as though to call upon the very forces of nature, the wolf lets out a gust of wind, capable of knocking an opponent back. Inspiration taken from a "Super Bark" and "Unrelenting Force", but not quite as powerful!
Strickenized
Kaefaux
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2022 3:28 am
He was running, and then he wasn't.
He was sprinting for Sessrumnir, his smoke trail obliterated behind him by whipping flame, when the ground exploded at his feet. He braced to avoid being driven back too far, but heat accosted his legs past the protective barrier of his boots. His attention shot over to the offending senshi, his mouth fixed in a bare snarl.
That other one was carrying her, circling like a vulture. Like he was waiting for Faustite to enact some drastic, lethal plan that this senshi would have to circumvent. Unfortunately for him, Faustite didn't have that kind of power. Never had it. What flame he mustered and what paths he chose were always the least effective — none of theirs would be dying that night. If anything, Faustite was willing to wager that he had more brushes with death than all of them combined. Maybe the next would be the last.
The howl arrested his attention for only a moment before it blew him backward. Thin and lacking a middle, Faustite hurdled backward, into the brick wall of the building behind him, where impact purged his lungs of air.
He felt the smack of meat and metal against brick. Felt the brick give. Felt the metal in him hum from impact until his ribs shook and his teeth shivered. For a second, then two, then three, then five, the burning boy was paralyzed. Then he gasped air and felt it — a soreness. A diffuse pain that shouldn't be. He checked about himself. saw the shattered glass, felt more glass rain down on his shoulders and hair.
He let his flame unravel and dissipate. Felt all the wearier for it. It was a necessity, however, if he didn't want to knock loose more glass.
Get up, he told himself. But it hurt terribly.
Didn't matter, he reminded himself. Ours not to question why, ours but to do or die. And if you can't do, then die.
Irrespective of the burgeoning streaks of black he left behind, Faustite clawed for purchase on the ground and the misshapen bricks behind him until he could ground his feet beneath himself. Pushing himself up to standing, he winced, and openly groaned for how his body carried with it the glass that embedded itself in his back and hip. He braced against the wall behind him as he waited for adrenaline to kick ******** doesn't know an opportunity when she sees it," The words burned to speak into being, and he felt sharp digs when he breathed. "Guessing you two do. Don't keep me waiting."
guine
kyuseisha no hikari
kaefaux
Strickenized
Garbage Cat
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Kaefaux
Unsealed Gatekeeper
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Posted: Fri Nov 04, 2022 11:19 am
Her energy was gone and Solaris felt sick for it. Her good arm gripped the front of Alastor's tunic, stomach rolling as her body began to shiver, revolted against the massive drain on her systems. Once upon a time, she'd had far greater energy reserves. Using three rounds of her most basic of magic hadn't been anything to her.
The drastic shift made her lips curl.
Especially since now she couldn't just blast the ********> away from Sessrumnir. Yes, her magic had disrupted his assault, and when he looked up at her, pale blue eyes snagged with the burning coals set within inky darkness. Her hackles rose, the pale peach feathers at her back rising in any avian's show of anger. "Go burn away your existence somewhere ******** else," she snarled, fully aware the fact she was speaking was a luxury. Only possible because Alastor and Sessrumnir had come to save her a**.
She'd be apologizing a lot once they were out of there.
They were joined by a fifth figure, though. Solaris blinked, cutting her gaze away from the flaming boy to... a canine? Massive. A part of her heart seemed to squeeze. She blinked a few more times, unsure if what she was feeling was happiness because puppy! and it was beautiful and fluffy, or if it had something to do with her jumble of memories. But it was something else she didn't want to get caught in the fire she'd only fueled here.
When the canine howled, Solaris flinched, immediately recoiling back into Alastor, one ear pressed to his shoulder while the other was attempted to be smothered by her good hand. Shards glittered in the air around them--glass?
The boy of fire was thrown, much as she'd been when she'd used her magic far, far too close to herself. But now he was slammed into a brick wall, and the crash of flesh and metal against it made its way even under her attempts to block out sound. She dropped her hand, turning again to stare at the scene.
He looked so young without all the fire. And then she looked down at the cage of flame where his guts should have been and a larger tremor swamped her.
Just who was he called a dumb--ah. Right. Well. She'd earned that. But her comment about burning away his life seemed pretty on the money, if he was still trying to instigate the other two. The ones who were clearly up on his level.
"We've got plenty of opportunity to let him fall apart here, so let's just go," she again urged Alastor, lifting her voice enough to carry to Sessrumnir as well. Part of her felt even worse for it--running away instead of just killing the threat. But he looked ready to just... come apart. Maybe he'd just burn out without them there.
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Guine
Strickenized
Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2022 10:24 pm
Princess was there. She wasn’t rushing to Sessrumnir’s aid, and when the fire shifted enough that he could see him, Alastor almost breathed a sigh of relief. He had too much going on to relax, though.
He felt Solaris clutching the fabric at his chest and even as he moved he was pretty sure he felt her trembling in his arms. He didn’t know if it was familiarity or a trained indifference, but he kept his focus through her howl. It wasn’t a sound he was used to from her, but it was still her.
Alastor didn’t take much time to look at Faustite; his lip curled a bit at the boy’s state, at metal and fire and chaos.
“You want to go?” Alastor asked, and in that brief moment he wondered if she’d ever seen anyone die. Not of old age, but in battle. He supposed Sessrumnnir wasn’t exaggerating when he said that the Negaverse had children.
He saw an opportunity, sure. And he knew how much damage a kid could do. Percy had taught him to give people the benefit of the doubt, but this kid was out here trying to burn people alive. They could have finished this now. They could have stopped him, prevented him from trying to hurt anyone else.
But, he wasn’t sure that was his call. Sessrumnir was here, so he looked to him for more reasons than one.
Kaefaux
Guine
Strickenized
Kyuseisha no Hikari
Crew
Dragonslaying Dragon
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Guine
Crew
Lonely Explorer
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Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2022 10:49 pm
Princess remained by his side, but if he reached out to touch her, there was nothing of physical substance there. She was just there. His magic wasn’t being used at the moment, so she simply existed until she was needed. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t snarl with bared teeth and raised hackles at the part youma General.
Solaris was requesting that they leave. That they let Faustite fall apart on his own.
Once upon a time, Sessrumnir would have agreed to that. To let Faustite writhe in agony and stew in his hate and loss. Faustite looked like a boy, but he was dangerous.
Mercy had been given before, and his father was dead because of it.
What if it had been Ephesus or Amarynthos who had been cornered by Faustite? What if it was Oliver or Asher who were burned within an inch of their lives? What about his mother, his brothers, his niece? Only seven and already a part of this war.
“Get her out of here. I’ll finish this,” Sessrumnir snarled, but didn’t look at either of them. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of Faustite.
The fire was gone, but he drew Princess’s power again. She took a physical presence and howled in Faustite’s direction again. Faustite might have ceased the flames to keep the glass from falling, but Sessrumnir wanted more to rain down on him, to keep him pinned against the brick.
To keep him from teleporting.
Hands balled into fists, Sessrumnir quickly crossed the distance behind the gust of wind, and delivered a left hook to Faustite’s face.
