((Trigger warning for abuse.))
“Show me your heart.”
The witch could feel herself awakening, and feel the lingering pain in her wrist where her flesh was still healing, and the weariness all over her body from being drained. Fresh blood had been pulled from the Veil to replace what he had stolen, but it would take time to fully replenish. He had evidently sat her up against a wall between two of the gargoyles, and stooped down to look closely at her. She wanted to tear him apart before he could use or hurt her again, and her stomach turned and her skin crawled with the memory of his greedy mouth and his unwanted touch, but the thread of enchantment was strong and tight. She found herself responding, “I cannot.”
Arius scowled. His hand shot out, pinning her to the wall by her throat. “Why not?”
She had no need of air, but lack of it made it more difficult to speak. If she could survive this, survive him, get free somehow, maybe she would tell him that before she killed him. Strained sounds came from her throat until he loosened his grasp. “Because I do not want to.”
He backhanded her twice, hard enough to rattle her skull and start a sharp, lingering pain in the base of her horns. “You must do what I ask. Why does it matter what you want?”
She could taste blood in her mouth. Tried to will herself to turn it to venom to spit in his eyes, but failed. Words came out again, instead. “Malleus controls my heart’s sanctum and reflects my will.”
His jaw tensed visibly. She wanted to recoil, less for any coming strike and more for how she imagined he would take it out on her later. “Is there another way?”
“There is.”
He looked pleased. “Then tell me how to do it.”
She wanted to laugh in his face, but settled for the flicker of hope that this gave her, that maybe the vampire was out of his depth here. That maybe he could not get what he wanted. “I no longer know how.” After she had tricked Michelle by showing her the way to open her sanctum, she and Malleus had come to a new arrangement.
“Then who does?”
“Malleus.”
He roared in anger, loud enough to rattle the loosened glass in the broken windows of the throneroom, and seized her by her throat to lift her from the floor. She dangled in his arms, silently willing him to go further. Kill me and my spirit will go to my sanctum, far away from you. But he didn’t. He dropped her on the floor and spat at her, “Why, then. Why don’t you want to show me your heart?”
“Because my heart is only for those I love, and I hate you.”
He loomed over her, watching her gaze for any sign of defiance, but when none came, he simply pointed at her as he stalked out the door. “Stay there. We will see about your so-called love...”
Bloodbound
Moderators: Mallory, Eri Maeda, Patrick
-
Mallory
- RoH Admin
- Posts: 921
- Joined: Sun Jan 15, 2017 9:25 pm
- Location: The Lyceum or Kabuki Street, most of the time
Re: Bloodbound
((Trigger warning for abuse, thoughts of sexual abuse, homophobia, infertility as theme.))
Mallory had remained in a heap on the throneroom floor until one of the warlocks had finally come to fetch her. “Come with me, Miss Volokhov. Lord Arius wants to see you in the cellar. He wants you to wash up first.”
That request, more than anything, made the witch’s blood surge through her heart so hard she could feel it, the panic tightening her chest and constricting her heart. She did not look at the warlock though, did not turn to face her, until she showed her a signet ring bound to Lord Arius’ will. She climbed back to her feet and followed mutely, out of the throneroom and down a tiny spiral staircase to the first level of Grimbard Keep.
There were a couple of washrooms not far from the ruined dining hall near the main gate, put into functioning order for Arius’ mortal servants, but the warlock did not leave the witch to her own devices. She stood just inside and watched her coldly, gave her specific commands, one after another, and never turned away. Relieve yourself. Wash your neck. Wash your hands, and arms. Fix your hair. Fix your makeup.
Mallory forced her imagination down and locked it away, refused to let herself imagine why as her mind went into autopilot as much as the rest of her already had been. She did exactly as instructed, and when the warlock was satisfied, she followed her out of the washroom, back down the spiral staircase and into the cellar.
It was freezing down here, cold enough for a crypt, and despite her best efforts to suppress her own thoughts, it occurred to her that Arius probably had his lair down here. She wondered if he wanted her to sleep down here with him, and what he would do, and felt sick again. There was bile in her throat, and the warlock cut her a sharp look: “Do not throw up.”
As instructed, with effort, Mallory managed to stop herself from vomiting, and continued to follow the warlock down the dank, dimly lit corridor.
It was not Arius’ lair that they stepped into, but a larder accessible through a side door. The puddles that had formed in the corners and low spots of the floor were partially frozen, frost glinted on exposed earth, and meat hooks dangled from the timbers along the ceiling, several of them stuck with dried, rotting meat and sinew and humanoid bones. Likely the redcaps’ work, a grim reminder of their cannibalism, and something the keep’s new residents had seen no need to remove.
At the back wall stood Arius, hands folded in front of him. At his feet was a chrome locker, cold mist rising from it, with a tag with a singular name on the front: M. Maeda.
She felt sick again. She knew where the locker was from.
“This is a beautiful moment,” he said, opening his hands, “the moment where you finally let go of your delusions, and begin to see that the only one you need to love... is me. Come here.”
Obediently, she walked up to him. She imagined he could sense the way her bloodflow had quickened. She stopped a few feet away, looking him in the eye.
His lips had curved into a condescending smile, baring his fangs when he spoke. “I want you to tell me a few things... What is your name? And who is your family?”
Even thinking of them gave her a spark of hope, but only a spark, overcome by fear of what would happen next. “My name is Mallory Maeda. My family is my wife Eri Maeda, my brother Patrick Richie, my aunt Jewell Ravenlock, and my sisters, Saori and Mai Sato, Sapphire Ravenlock, Penny Escobar, and Michelle Montoya.”
The smile flickered, just for a moment. “But your name is Nadya Volokhov, and the Volokhovs are your family. It can be proven. It is fact. You were born to Mariya and Evgeny Volokhov, and his parents were Lidya and Arkady Volokhov. We were cursed to forget you, and the evidence of you vanished, but that does not change the truth. Many things reappeared when you broke that curse, like these...” He produced a stack of photographs from his pocket and held them out. “Take them -- look at them -- tell me what you see.”
She shuffled through them as instructed, occasionally turning them over. “A baby with her parents. Words on the back. Evgeny, Mariya, Nadya, Lidya, Jeza,” her blood quickened again as she looked upon the face of the old woman who had dragged her into this trouble, “Pietr, Lada, Semyon,” recognizing the features of a boy of seven, standing for a photograph with his parents and hers -- the cousin she and Ebon had killed in the process of gleaning Arius’ name from his mind.
He smiled. “You have lost your way these last twenty years, but you possess an intelligent mind nonetheless. You can see reason. Now tell me... who is your family?”
“My wife Eri Maeda, my bro--”
“Stop!” he snapped, slapping the photographs from her hands. “Why do you keep saying this... why are these motley, low-born nobodies your family?”
Defiance overcame fear at that moment. Whatever he did, there were some things she knew he could not change. “Because I love them, I would do anything for them, and I cannot imagine feeling any other way.”
He snarled and threw her against the wall, and his hand reared back and slammed into the stone right beside her head. He bared his fangs at her, his eyes gleaming with feral rage. “Then... allow me to be your muse, and help you imagine. Your frivolous partnership with another woman could bear no children, and yet you call her family -- wife. You called her this even before you had even withered your own womb with blood magic...”
It sickened her that he knew this about her. In spite of his thread of enchantment, with all of the will she could muster, her jaw tensed and her eyes narrowed.
He scowled at the small signs of resistance, maintaining eye contact. “Hear me and obey, child,” and he watched as they faded once more. “This strange and miserable city possesses a level of science that has enabled your delusions, that you can have a family together by technical means,” and he gestured dismissively to the pressurized chrome locker at their feet. “But this is all that remains of that chance,” he continued, taking two steps back. “Now... tell me what that locker contains.”
“My frozen eggs.”
“And why have you frozen them?”
A truth that was sometimes hard for her to articulate was forced from her by his command. “When I ovulated before I progressed too far in my immortality ritual, I produced eggs that could be fertilized. That is no longer the case, now that constant regeneration has mutated my cells. I wanted and want the option of having biological children with Eri.”
His cruel smile returned. “And do you want children?”
“Yes.”
“Hm.” He stepped up behind her, leaning his chin to her shoulder to look down at the locker. “Take that... precious sporting prize, the Key of Fire, from your necklace... and incinerate this box and everything in it.”
Tears fell freely as she scooped the brass key into her hand and mumbled a few words of Ignan Primordial, like bubbling lava on her tongue. The locker began to steam and glow at the bottom corners, then flames sparked from the seams. Her thumb remained pressed to the fire opal embedded in the Key of Fire, continuing to extend its elemental power over the metallic barrier, forcing heat and flame to the contents inside.
The box was black in places, orange in others, and white in one widening patch that collapsed in with a shower of sparks leaping from the interior. As the flames rose, glass shattered with audible popping sounds, and the metal sides melted and caved in, reducing the locker to nothing more than a pile of hot slag and ash.
Arius turned Mallory towards him with both hands, grasping her by the cheeks, his thumbs brushing back her tears. “Now that we have that out of the way... let’s see what progress we’ve made together. Who is your family?”
The thought of her name filled her with all the more hope and defiance, residing in her heart, with plenty of room for her growing desire to do terrible things with the blood in his veins. “My wife, Eri Maeda--”
“Stop,” he scowled, tensing one hand painfully around an ear. “Why is she your family?”
“Because we are married. I love her, I would do--”
“Stop,” he snarled, fangs bared. “Your notions of family...” He shook his head. “Without children, what future do the two of you have together?”
“Eternity, however we choose to spend it together, with or without children.”
“But you can’t have children,” he scowled. “How can a child be yours?”
“By adoption, or in vitro fertilization with--”
“But the child would not be yours!” he roared in her face. “I have taken this from you! It is gone! The first of many delusional bonds have broken, until the only thing you have left is ME!”
Mallory stared at him, and if she could have willed it, she would have smiled at him, because she knew in that moment just how little he understood about love, family, and the witch herself. He grabbed her by the back of the head and threw her to the floor, stepped up to her and slapped her, over and over, but the desire to smile in his face was no less -- and in a moment of defiance against his wavering will, one appeared on her face.
Please, rage on. Waver just a little more. See what I have in store for you.
His expression chilled at the expression, his fury cold and as hard as marble. “See me, and obey. Stop... smiling.” As her expression dropped, he hauled her back to her feet, roughly. “In time, you will realize how much you have lost. Follow me,” he said to her, and to the warlock as he passed, “We’ll continue this in the throneroom, and I expect updates on our meddlesome neighbors.”
As they strode from the room, the pile of slag and ashes continued to glow, burning as brightly as the defiant rage in Mallory’s heart...
Mallory had remained in a heap on the throneroom floor until one of the warlocks had finally come to fetch her. “Come with me, Miss Volokhov. Lord Arius wants to see you in the cellar. He wants you to wash up first.”
That request, more than anything, made the witch’s blood surge through her heart so hard she could feel it, the panic tightening her chest and constricting her heart. She did not look at the warlock though, did not turn to face her, until she showed her a signet ring bound to Lord Arius’ will. She climbed back to her feet and followed mutely, out of the throneroom and down a tiny spiral staircase to the first level of Grimbard Keep.
There were a couple of washrooms not far from the ruined dining hall near the main gate, put into functioning order for Arius’ mortal servants, but the warlock did not leave the witch to her own devices. She stood just inside and watched her coldly, gave her specific commands, one after another, and never turned away. Relieve yourself. Wash your neck. Wash your hands, and arms. Fix your hair. Fix your makeup.
Mallory forced her imagination down and locked it away, refused to let herself imagine why as her mind went into autopilot as much as the rest of her already had been. She did exactly as instructed, and when the warlock was satisfied, she followed her out of the washroom, back down the spiral staircase and into the cellar.
It was freezing down here, cold enough for a crypt, and despite her best efforts to suppress her own thoughts, it occurred to her that Arius probably had his lair down here. She wondered if he wanted her to sleep down here with him, and what he would do, and felt sick again. There was bile in her throat, and the warlock cut her a sharp look: “Do not throw up.”
As instructed, with effort, Mallory managed to stop herself from vomiting, and continued to follow the warlock down the dank, dimly lit corridor.
It was not Arius’ lair that they stepped into, but a larder accessible through a side door. The puddles that had formed in the corners and low spots of the floor were partially frozen, frost glinted on exposed earth, and meat hooks dangled from the timbers along the ceiling, several of them stuck with dried, rotting meat and sinew and humanoid bones. Likely the redcaps’ work, a grim reminder of their cannibalism, and something the keep’s new residents had seen no need to remove.
At the back wall stood Arius, hands folded in front of him. At his feet was a chrome locker, cold mist rising from it, with a tag with a singular name on the front: M. Maeda.
She felt sick again. She knew where the locker was from.
“This is a beautiful moment,” he said, opening his hands, “the moment where you finally let go of your delusions, and begin to see that the only one you need to love... is me. Come here.”
Obediently, she walked up to him. She imagined he could sense the way her bloodflow had quickened. She stopped a few feet away, looking him in the eye.
His lips had curved into a condescending smile, baring his fangs when he spoke. “I want you to tell me a few things... What is your name? And who is your family?”
Even thinking of them gave her a spark of hope, but only a spark, overcome by fear of what would happen next. “My name is Mallory Maeda. My family is my wife Eri Maeda, my brother Patrick Richie, my aunt Jewell Ravenlock, and my sisters, Saori and Mai Sato, Sapphire Ravenlock, Penny Escobar, and Michelle Montoya.”
The smile flickered, just for a moment. “But your name is Nadya Volokhov, and the Volokhovs are your family. It can be proven. It is fact. You were born to Mariya and Evgeny Volokhov, and his parents were Lidya and Arkady Volokhov. We were cursed to forget you, and the evidence of you vanished, but that does not change the truth. Many things reappeared when you broke that curse, like these...” He produced a stack of photographs from his pocket and held them out. “Take them -- look at them -- tell me what you see.”
She shuffled through them as instructed, occasionally turning them over. “A baby with her parents. Words on the back. Evgeny, Mariya, Nadya, Lidya, Jeza,” her blood quickened again as she looked upon the face of the old woman who had dragged her into this trouble, “Pietr, Lada, Semyon,” recognizing the features of a boy of seven, standing for a photograph with his parents and hers -- the cousin she and Ebon had killed in the process of gleaning Arius’ name from his mind.
He smiled. “You have lost your way these last twenty years, but you possess an intelligent mind nonetheless. You can see reason. Now tell me... who is your family?”
“My wife Eri Maeda, my bro--”
“Stop!” he snapped, slapping the photographs from her hands. “Why do you keep saying this... why are these motley, low-born nobodies your family?”
Defiance overcame fear at that moment. Whatever he did, there were some things she knew he could not change. “Because I love them, I would do anything for them, and I cannot imagine feeling any other way.”
He snarled and threw her against the wall, and his hand reared back and slammed into the stone right beside her head. He bared his fangs at her, his eyes gleaming with feral rage. “Then... allow me to be your muse, and help you imagine. Your frivolous partnership with another woman could bear no children, and yet you call her family -- wife. You called her this even before you had even withered your own womb with blood magic...”
It sickened her that he knew this about her. In spite of his thread of enchantment, with all of the will she could muster, her jaw tensed and her eyes narrowed.
He scowled at the small signs of resistance, maintaining eye contact. “Hear me and obey, child,” and he watched as they faded once more. “This strange and miserable city possesses a level of science that has enabled your delusions, that you can have a family together by technical means,” and he gestured dismissively to the pressurized chrome locker at their feet. “But this is all that remains of that chance,” he continued, taking two steps back. “Now... tell me what that locker contains.”
“My frozen eggs.”
“And why have you frozen them?”
A truth that was sometimes hard for her to articulate was forced from her by his command. “When I ovulated before I progressed too far in my immortality ritual, I produced eggs that could be fertilized. That is no longer the case, now that constant regeneration has mutated my cells. I wanted and want the option of having biological children with Eri.”
His cruel smile returned. “And do you want children?”
“Yes.”
“Hm.” He stepped up behind her, leaning his chin to her shoulder to look down at the locker. “Take that... precious sporting prize, the Key of Fire, from your necklace... and incinerate this box and everything in it.”
Tears fell freely as she scooped the brass key into her hand and mumbled a few words of Ignan Primordial, like bubbling lava on her tongue. The locker began to steam and glow at the bottom corners, then flames sparked from the seams. Her thumb remained pressed to the fire opal embedded in the Key of Fire, continuing to extend its elemental power over the metallic barrier, forcing heat and flame to the contents inside.
The box was black in places, orange in others, and white in one widening patch that collapsed in with a shower of sparks leaping from the interior. As the flames rose, glass shattered with audible popping sounds, and the metal sides melted and caved in, reducing the locker to nothing more than a pile of hot slag and ash.
Arius turned Mallory towards him with both hands, grasping her by the cheeks, his thumbs brushing back her tears. “Now that we have that out of the way... let’s see what progress we’ve made together. Who is your family?”
The thought of her name filled her with all the more hope and defiance, residing in her heart, with plenty of room for her growing desire to do terrible things with the blood in his veins. “My wife, Eri Maeda--”
“Stop,” he scowled, tensing one hand painfully around an ear. “Why is she your family?”
“Because we are married. I love her, I would do--”
“Stop,” he snarled, fangs bared. “Your notions of family...” He shook his head. “Without children, what future do the two of you have together?”
“Eternity, however we choose to spend it together, with or without children.”
“But you can’t have children,” he scowled. “How can a child be yours?”
“By adoption, or in vitro fertilization with--”
“But the child would not be yours!” he roared in her face. “I have taken this from you! It is gone! The first of many delusional bonds have broken, until the only thing you have left is ME!”
Mallory stared at him, and if she could have willed it, she would have smiled at him, because she knew in that moment just how little he understood about love, family, and the witch herself. He grabbed her by the back of the head and threw her to the floor, stepped up to her and slapped her, over and over, but the desire to smile in his face was no less -- and in a moment of defiance against his wavering will, one appeared on her face.
Please, rage on. Waver just a little more. See what I have in store for you.
His expression chilled at the expression, his fury cold and as hard as marble. “See me, and obey. Stop... smiling.” As her expression dropped, he hauled her back to her feet, roughly. “In time, you will realize how much you have lost. Follow me,” he said to her, and to the warlock as he passed, “We’ll continue this in the throneroom, and I expect updates on our meddlesome neighbors.”
As they strode from the room, the pile of slag and ashes continued to glow, burning as brightly as the defiant rage in Mallory’s heart...
Re: Bloodbound
The air over Kabuki Street was clear, but just across the boundary of the southwestern canal the fog was still lingering heavy over the decrepit tenement buildings of the outermost block of Three Foxes Court. It was in the crumbling lobby of one of those old flat blocks that Yuina was being kept as hostage, presently tethered by the wrists to the stone wall by means of a pair of handcuffs affixed to steel rings anchored in the rock.
Two guards in chainmail shirts had been left there to guard the captive Yuina, the taller of the two - a thin gray haired man was restlessly jabbing his wooden club at the wall next to Yuina's head, making the young singer flinch and try to pull away with a metallic jingling of the handcuffs
around her wrists. A shorter and stockier guard was leaning against the opposing wall by the doorway with his club resting on his shoulder.
"I wish you'd stop that and be still" the shorter man complained to the taller. "You're making me nervous." The taller guard paused in tormenting Yuina, glaring over his shoulder at his stockier partner. "Well, it's boring. And I'm hungry. They better get this whole mission done tonight. I'm ready to be out of this place! It smells horrible and.." He trailed off as the other guard held up a hand. "Quiet... I heard something out in the hallway. Stop.. stop!" he demanded, straightening and moving away from the wall and doorway with his club raised from his shoulder. A suspicious look had come over his features, and the taller guard became quiet with his head angled to listen closely.
The sounds of grunts and groans met their ears — then the sudden image of a body flying across the doorway, followed by the sound of the man both hitting and skidding across the ground. Whatever had escaped the guards lips completely ceased in that moment and was replaced by the sound of footsteps. The sounding footsteps, closer and closer they came, did not give off the tell-tale sign of someone in a hurry. No, they were slow and steady as they neared the opening; and soon the image of the uniform wearing girl came into view. Blood dripped from the relaxed hand at her right side while she turned her gaze onto the two guards within the crumbling lobby, then briefly hung Yuina off in the distance beyond them.
Both of the guards looked wide eyed at the doorway and the sounds of violence outside. When the body of their fellow guard came skidding through the doorway both backed away from their fallen ally reflexively. The tall gray haired one was so jumpy that he dropped his club to the floor with a clatter. From her place tethered to the wall Yuina weakly opened her eyes and turned her head to see the blood dripping delinquent coming through the door, dark eyes flashing and hopeful. The shorter guard cursed his companion upon hearing the dropped club, raising his own with his eyes cut from the restrained Yuina and the arriving uniformed girl. "Who are you?" he demanded, raising the studded club over his head in a ready stance. "One of these school girls! Back away or your friend will be killed!" It was a bit of a hollow threat at the moment, as Asami was closer to him than Yuina was. The older gray haired figure was closer to Yuina, but was bending down to retrieve his dropped weapon.
Two more steps were taken. Forward not back. Asami then came to a stop and looked between the two guards in front of her. She replied to the first question with, "Asami Ito. Rappapa sukeban.." to the first. The second came only after she looked back to Yuina, "Okay." The single word. Okay. It held an almost uncaring tone as it echoed past her lips. The fact that she did not afford Yuina another look after it spoke even more as her eyes locked onto the two guards.. and so she moved. Step by step she neared them while the corner of her mouth began to curl until lips did part to expose an almost toothy smile.
The stocky guard listened to Asami's introduction, the club held overhand twitching a bit to see if he could unnerve her into a reflexive flinch. His eyes widened as she heard the response to his threat to eliminate the hostage. Though a bit unnerved he issued a command to his partner. "She's by herself. If there were more they would be in here. Rush her!"
Without time to get another look, Yuina seemed to struggle more violently against the handcuffs as she heard Asami's lack of concern to her fate. The taller guard luckily chose to prioritize the attack over making good on his fellow's threat. He too lifted his weapon and charged forward at the uniformed Asami together with the shorter one, grunting as his longer stride made him arrive first and take a heavy downward swing toward her head with the metal ringed truncheon.
The longer stride and larger reach would be his downfall as Asami raised a quick hand to catch the downward swing of the club. The fingers of her bloody hand clasped roughly onto the weapon while her elbow began to bend and her shoulder drew back in a quick jerk of a motion to set him off guard. He was open now and her true attack came — in the form of her hand slipping to behind her back so she could grasp onto the firearm that was tucked away against her skirt. The gun was drawn and brandished in one quick motion as she ignored the chainmail and simply pressed it to his leg. The trigger pulled and one, followed by a second curl of the finger, saw two bullets ripping into the exposed appendage. The grasp on the club worked two-fold here, as she used the sudden surprise of the duo shots to loosen the guard's grip so that she could take the club and rake it across his face with a following swing. By that time the second guard would be soon upon her, but she wanted to incapacitate the first before dealing with what came next.
When the club's heavy swing was caught in the monstrously strong grasp of the much smaller Asami the tall guard's eyes widened in shock. His surprise at his swing grew into a bewildered dismayed shout when he was jerked off balance. The surprised shout had time to rise to a scream as the handgun was produced and the bullets at close range tore into his leg. He began to fall, leg pouring blood already and was caught on his way down by his own club was taken away and impacted his face with a crunch of cheekbone and eye socket breaking. Blood spouted from his nostrils while he fell to the ground, eyes rolling back in unconsciousness. The shorter guard barely had time to register that his partner arriving ahead of him had been disarmed, but was a bit quicker thinking. He reversed the momentum he carried in his charge toward Asami, instead turning to run toward the helplessly tied Yuina. He cringed at the deafening reports of gunfire, and knowing he was not close enough he dropped the club from his hands as if to surrender. No more had they raised than his right hand went to his own waist, desperately making a grab for the heavy primitive flintlock pistol tucked into his belt.
"You could not reach me.." the disappointment in her tone was palpable as it spoke soon after the third loud bang that reverberated throughout the lobby. The guards mistake was that he disarmed himself to both free his hand and also create a distraction — a distraction against an opponent who was not going to offer any sort of mercy. Her elbow twisted with the recoil of the weapon as it fired and she soon set her aim once more to release a second shot right after the first. Both for the guards upper back as she moved to follow after. She had taken notice of him attempting to reach for something, but this did not seem to delay her steps; nor did she appear hesitant as she followed after him.
The retreating guard had only had time to set his hand on his pistol when Asami's pistol fired, the first bullet punching directly through the mild steel rings of his armor. He was still upright and drawing the weapon when the second shot that the delinquent fired struck his back close to the first wound. That second shot caused his body to fall, legs suddenly nerveless and motionless as he crumpled. Landing face down, he gasped loudly, his free hand pushing himself over to face up, while the old pistol was raised, shaking and wobbling with great weight in his now weak grasp aiming at Asami's body. His thumb found the hammer and drew it back, pulling the trigger with eyes squinted in desperate effort. There was a flash as the flint struck the priming powder in the pan and an instant later a huge boom as the old pistol fired its heavy ball in a burst of fire from the bore.
The flash of fire and smoke and the roar of the shot saw Asami pause in step as her body jerked back from the impact. She bent and twisted slightly at the waist while a sudden spurt of blood stretched out from the sudden wound she suffered just below her chest. The girls heel pressed back against the floor of the lobby to support her weight as she stood there for a moment in possibly a daze.. until the foot would lift and move forward once more in a step. While blood dribbled from beneath her skirt and left a trail behind her — this did not deter Asami as she arrived at her destination. "Sonomama..", she began as she set her foot down onto the guards back. The pressure applied by her foot was meant to stop him from moving around too much; or at the very least his upper body as he had issues with the lower. Asami set her aim and held the gun there. "shine..", that was when the trigger was pulled and for the fifth and final time the lobby filled with the sudden rumble of a discharged firearm.. and all fell quiet.
The guard looked hopeful as he saw his shot had landed, though his expression turned to one of dismay when she began to walk forward again. Without a second weapon and with no sounds of any more guards approaching to save him he looked up helplessly as Asami's foot pinned him in place. He dropped the now useless smoking pistol to the ground and raised his hands in a futile plea as he screamed from the pressure of the foot. The shot cut off the scream as his body jerked and fell still.
The silence that fell was finally broken as Yuina finally recovered from the shock of the loud gunfire. Handcuffs jingled as she struggled, and she coughed after trying to speak. When she caught her breath she managed through ringing ears to say. "We have to get out of here.”
The struggling Yuina would seem to be ignored as Asami drew her foot from the fallen guard and started those same steps toward the unconscious taller some distance away. The short trip coming to an end with Asami dropping the spent firearm and raising a foot to bring it down onto the guards head. A sickening crunch came from the action as the half-oni's strength was put on display. While the skull hadn't been completely crushed, the way it had caved in somewhat signaled that she had intended for the mans life to come to an end. Only after did she respond to Yuina, "That is the plan." her tone remained the same as it had been throughout the scene that had just taken place, though her steps toward Yuina had a slight more speed to them than before. She reached for the chain which held her in place — and with a quick yet mighty tug she'd see it broken free. "You're safe.. I will return you to Kabuki, I promise."
Yuina fell quiet and ceased struggling as she watched Asami coming toward the fallen taller guard. She closed her eyes when the sukeban's foot raised, wincing at the sound of the crunch that occured when the half oni's strength crumpled the unconscious thug's skull. After taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes in time to widen as Asami broke the handcuff chain that held her free. Numb arms were stretched, and she doubled over for a moment as her muscles cramped. Even as she forced her posture to straighten she looked wide eyed at the half oni. "But you're hurt. Let me put a bandage on" she insisted.
Asami shook her head and said, "It's not enough to stop me." Truthfully the burning sensation of pain coursing through her body from the wound was enough to keep her midsection tense enough to stifle much of the bleeding; thanks to the hidden reddening of the skin beneath torn and bloody fabric. The bloodline of the half-oni would keep her fine for the time being. At least until she was able to get proper care. Perhaps to show Yuina that she is fine... A single hand met the top of the girl's head for a brief moment, then slid away as Asami began to walk for the lobby entrance. "Explain to me what's going on. Why were you taken?"
Yuina only looked confused for a moment, but the posture and strength that Asami clearly had was enough to convince her that her words were true. The hand set to the top of her head seemed to calm her enough to get her thoughts in order. At least there was no delay in her feet following along to the lobby entrance behind the sukeban. "They wanted a hostage to make Mallory Maeda surrender herself to them. I don't know what they want with her. I think to take her to another world entirely. These two kept talking about wanting to leave here and get back home. They grabbed me leaving the school library." she explained in a tense rush of words as her head turned around to look for more of the hired guards that might be on their way.
The more guards Yuina found would look much like the one that had been left in the small entry point before the lobby. The visual aftermath of bloodshed was strewn about in the form of a carpet of violent red carpet that the sukeban walked upon on her way into the lobby. It became apparent that she hadn't been alone, as there had been another sitting atop a bike outside of the decrepit building. Yuzuki Kuwabara. Asami's lips parted but a sound soon caught her ear, which is why she pressed a rough hand to Yuina's back to push her forward and out of the way as the sudden raking of claws caught the half-oni's arm where the girl had only been moments prior. Blood scattered across the ground as it spilled from the new wound Asami suffered. The sukeban had no time to think over what was happening. She was running on pure instinct at that point as she caught the secondary blow the assailant followed up with. Hand caught wrist and gripped roughly; and this allowed Asami a look at the attacker. A woman in darkened attire and stringy black hair.. the skin which was visible had been as pale as the moon, though it now shared a show of red from Asami's own blood. With her arm taken the woman rushed in with its twin in the form of a knife-hand that sought Asami's midsection — but that was caught by the half-oni as well. The struggle of strength began.
“Yuzu.. Get her back to Kabuki," Asami could be heard saying during the struggle.
Yuina had enough time to spot Yuzuki on the bike awaiting their getaway, recognizing her as she had Asami from seeing them in the gymnasium at school. Then as she was thrown clear of the attack she stumbled, turning to see the pale vampiric form now struggling with the half oni. Instinct overcame courage and she was running toward Yuzuki and the bike even as the sounds of their battle continued. Yuzuki was halfway dismounted from the vehicle, her own instinct to come over and join to defend her sukeban. She heard Asami's order however, and clambered back onto the bike just in time for Yuina to join her and climb aboard the back of the seat.
The vampiric assailant's eyes sprang wide and she hissed as she felt the strength of Asami's grasp upon catching her incoming claw attacks. She growled, frustrated and startled to find an opponent that could overcome her own undead strength. Her stringy hair flew as her head darted in, trying to sink her teeth into Asami as both her hands were caught and prevented from doing harm with their claw-like nails.
The flash of teeth as the vampire opened her mouth was caught by Asami and she sprung into action. Her leg rose and knee suddenly sunk into the undead woman's stomach to keep her away, if only for a moment, so Asami could bend and extend the leg soon after to press the heel of her boot to the woman's midsection. The half-only still had control of her arms and gripped at them tightly while also pushing more and more with that well placed foot. The strain it created was more then uncomfortable as her intentions were to try and rip the woman's limbs away from her body.. Yet the strength of a vampire isn't something to disregard, which is why — with a sudden hop from her remaining grounded leg, she'd kick her second boot into the vampires chest to push along with the first; and was just what she needed to apply her strength fully.
Having been confident that her bite would finish off this challenger the vampire screamed in protest as she instead found herself pushed away with the powerful strike of the knee. Even with the robust supernatural toughness there was a sound of some ribs snapping under the pressure of that sudden lift of the knee. She struggled frantically as she felt the painful strain resulting from Asami pulling on her limbs, those powerful limbs able to resist - at least unil the hop and sudden kick added the extreme leverage to the monstrous strength pulling. There was a horrible snap of bones, and then a gristly ripping sound as the shocked vampire fell back, arms ripping loose to be left still firmly in Asami's grasp. The now armless vampire fell back, blood soaking her dark cloak as she thrashed wildly on the ground with agonized shrieks.
Asami hit the ground as well with the help of gravity, but would not be down for long. The half-oni rose back to her feet after releasing the arms all together and quickly advanced onto her target. With a sudden pump of the knee she'd raise her foot and send it rushing down onto the vampires head. Unlike the unconscious guard this woman was something more; which meant that not one, not two, but multiple downfalls of that foot followed. One after another she sought to crush the head of the vampire into the pavement while she looked upon the fallen and flailing form with unblinking eyes. The mush that was left was nothing more than overkill.. and even then the body moved — the twitching and jerking of undeath still playing its part while Asami was left to look down upon what remained of the headless and armless body with her salty expression. She quickly looked behind herself to see that Yuzuki had indeed done as she was told. The roar of the bike becoming nothing more than a soft echo in the distance while Asami watched. She then looked back to the writhing body.. she'd watch as the seconds pass and the flailing became more than subtle twitches here and there, before finally there was nothing. Asami gave a squint of the eyes, as if not sure if the creature was fully dead or not, but decided that waiting around wasn't the best option. So with a turn the half-oni began to follow after the trail of Yuzuki to head back to Kabuki with haste.
Ahead of Asami...
The echoing of the bike engine's roar never slowed as Yuzuki returned back toward the boundary of Kabuki street, even when a pair of redcap soldiers that hadn't fled the neighborhood when it was occupied by the vampires rushed out to attempt to block the road. Drawing the Lucky daito from her waist, the heavenly queen kept the bike steady even as the bright sword flashed in two quick arcs that cut the marauding redcaps down to leave in their wake, litter for Asami to pass by as she followed behind them.
Two guards in chainmail shirts had been left there to guard the captive Yuina, the taller of the two - a thin gray haired man was restlessly jabbing his wooden club at the wall next to Yuina's head, making the young singer flinch and try to pull away with a metallic jingling of the handcuffs
around her wrists. A shorter and stockier guard was leaning against the opposing wall by the doorway with his club resting on his shoulder.
"I wish you'd stop that and be still" the shorter man complained to the taller. "You're making me nervous." The taller guard paused in tormenting Yuina, glaring over his shoulder at his stockier partner. "Well, it's boring. And I'm hungry. They better get this whole mission done tonight. I'm ready to be out of this place! It smells horrible and.." He trailed off as the other guard held up a hand. "Quiet... I heard something out in the hallway. Stop.. stop!" he demanded, straightening and moving away from the wall and doorway with his club raised from his shoulder. A suspicious look had come over his features, and the taller guard became quiet with his head angled to listen closely.
The sounds of grunts and groans met their ears — then the sudden image of a body flying across the doorway, followed by the sound of the man both hitting and skidding across the ground. Whatever had escaped the guards lips completely ceased in that moment and was replaced by the sound of footsteps. The sounding footsteps, closer and closer they came, did not give off the tell-tale sign of someone in a hurry. No, they were slow and steady as they neared the opening; and soon the image of the uniform wearing girl came into view. Blood dripped from the relaxed hand at her right side while she turned her gaze onto the two guards within the crumbling lobby, then briefly hung Yuina off in the distance beyond them.
Both of the guards looked wide eyed at the doorway and the sounds of violence outside. When the body of their fellow guard came skidding through the doorway both backed away from their fallen ally reflexively. The tall gray haired one was so jumpy that he dropped his club to the floor with a clatter. From her place tethered to the wall Yuina weakly opened her eyes and turned her head to see the blood dripping delinquent coming through the door, dark eyes flashing and hopeful. The shorter guard cursed his companion upon hearing the dropped club, raising his own with his eyes cut from the restrained Yuina and the arriving uniformed girl. "Who are you?" he demanded, raising the studded club over his head in a ready stance. "One of these school girls! Back away or your friend will be killed!" It was a bit of a hollow threat at the moment, as Asami was closer to him than Yuina was. The older gray haired figure was closer to Yuina, but was bending down to retrieve his dropped weapon.
Two more steps were taken. Forward not back. Asami then came to a stop and looked between the two guards in front of her. She replied to the first question with, "Asami Ito. Rappapa sukeban.." to the first. The second came only after she looked back to Yuina, "Okay." The single word. Okay. It held an almost uncaring tone as it echoed past her lips. The fact that she did not afford Yuina another look after it spoke even more as her eyes locked onto the two guards.. and so she moved. Step by step she neared them while the corner of her mouth began to curl until lips did part to expose an almost toothy smile.
The stocky guard listened to Asami's introduction, the club held overhand twitching a bit to see if he could unnerve her into a reflexive flinch. His eyes widened as she heard the response to his threat to eliminate the hostage. Though a bit unnerved he issued a command to his partner. "She's by herself. If there were more they would be in here. Rush her!"
Without time to get another look, Yuina seemed to struggle more violently against the handcuffs as she heard Asami's lack of concern to her fate. The taller guard luckily chose to prioritize the attack over making good on his fellow's threat. He too lifted his weapon and charged forward at the uniformed Asami together with the shorter one, grunting as his longer stride made him arrive first and take a heavy downward swing toward her head with the metal ringed truncheon.
The longer stride and larger reach would be his downfall as Asami raised a quick hand to catch the downward swing of the club. The fingers of her bloody hand clasped roughly onto the weapon while her elbow began to bend and her shoulder drew back in a quick jerk of a motion to set him off guard. He was open now and her true attack came — in the form of her hand slipping to behind her back so she could grasp onto the firearm that was tucked away against her skirt. The gun was drawn and brandished in one quick motion as she ignored the chainmail and simply pressed it to his leg. The trigger pulled and one, followed by a second curl of the finger, saw two bullets ripping into the exposed appendage. The grasp on the club worked two-fold here, as she used the sudden surprise of the duo shots to loosen the guard's grip so that she could take the club and rake it across his face with a following swing. By that time the second guard would be soon upon her, but she wanted to incapacitate the first before dealing with what came next.
When the club's heavy swing was caught in the monstrously strong grasp of the much smaller Asami the tall guard's eyes widened in shock. His surprise at his swing grew into a bewildered dismayed shout when he was jerked off balance. The surprised shout had time to rise to a scream as the handgun was produced and the bullets at close range tore into his leg. He began to fall, leg pouring blood already and was caught on his way down by his own club was taken away and impacted his face with a crunch of cheekbone and eye socket breaking. Blood spouted from his nostrils while he fell to the ground, eyes rolling back in unconsciousness. The shorter guard barely had time to register that his partner arriving ahead of him had been disarmed, but was a bit quicker thinking. He reversed the momentum he carried in his charge toward Asami, instead turning to run toward the helplessly tied Yuina. He cringed at the deafening reports of gunfire, and knowing he was not close enough he dropped the club from his hands as if to surrender. No more had they raised than his right hand went to his own waist, desperately making a grab for the heavy primitive flintlock pistol tucked into his belt.
"You could not reach me.." the disappointment in her tone was palpable as it spoke soon after the third loud bang that reverberated throughout the lobby. The guards mistake was that he disarmed himself to both free his hand and also create a distraction — a distraction against an opponent who was not going to offer any sort of mercy. Her elbow twisted with the recoil of the weapon as it fired and she soon set her aim once more to release a second shot right after the first. Both for the guards upper back as she moved to follow after. She had taken notice of him attempting to reach for something, but this did not seem to delay her steps; nor did she appear hesitant as she followed after him.
The retreating guard had only had time to set his hand on his pistol when Asami's pistol fired, the first bullet punching directly through the mild steel rings of his armor. He was still upright and drawing the weapon when the second shot that the delinquent fired struck his back close to the first wound. That second shot caused his body to fall, legs suddenly nerveless and motionless as he crumpled. Landing face down, he gasped loudly, his free hand pushing himself over to face up, while the old pistol was raised, shaking and wobbling with great weight in his now weak grasp aiming at Asami's body. His thumb found the hammer and drew it back, pulling the trigger with eyes squinted in desperate effort. There was a flash as the flint struck the priming powder in the pan and an instant later a huge boom as the old pistol fired its heavy ball in a burst of fire from the bore.
The flash of fire and smoke and the roar of the shot saw Asami pause in step as her body jerked back from the impact. She bent and twisted slightly at the waist while a sudden spurt of blood stretched out from the sudden wound she suffered just below her chest. The girls heel pressed back against the floor of the lobby to support her weight as she stood there for a moment in possibly a daze.. until the foot would lift and move forward once more in a step. While blood dribbled from beneath her skirt and left a trail behind her — this did not deter Asami as she arrived at her destination. "Sonomama..", she began as she set her foot down onto the guards back. The pressure applied by her foot was meant to stop him from moving around too much; or at the very least his upper body as he had issues with the lower. Asami set her aim and held the gun there. "shine..", that was when the trigger was pulled and for the fifth and final time the lobby filled with the sudden rumble of a discharged firearm.. and all fell quiet.
The guard looked hopeful as he saw his shot had landed, though his expression turned to one of dismay when she began to walk forward again. Without a second weapon and with no sounds of any more guards approaching to save him he looked up helplessly as Asami's foot pinned him in place. He dropped the now useless smoking pistol to the ground and raised his hands in a futile plea as he screamed from the pressure of the foot. The shot cut off the scream as his body jerked and fell still.
The silence that fell was finally broken as Yuina finally recovered from the shock of the loud gunfire. Handcuffs jingled as she struggled, and she coughed after trying to speak. When she caught her breath she managed through ringing ears to say. "We have to get out of here.”
The struggling Yuina would seem to be ignored as Asami drew her foot from the fallen guard and started those same steps toward the unconscious taller some distance away. The short trip coming to an end with Asami dropping the spent firearm and raising a foot to bring it down onto the guards head. A sickening crunch came from the action as the half-oni's strength was put on display. While the skull hadn't been completely crushed, the way it had caved in somewhat signaled that she had intended for the mans life to come to an end. Only after did she respond to Yuina, "That is the plan." her tone remained the same as it had been throughout the scene that had just taken place, though her steps toward Yuina had a slight more speed to them than before. She reached for the chain which held her in place — and with a quick yet mighty tug she'd see it broken free. "You're safe.. I will return you to Kabuki, I promise."
Yuina fell quiet and ceased struggling as she watched Asami coming toward the fallen taller guard. She closed her eyes when the sukeban's foot raised, wincing at the sound of the crunch that occured when the half oni's strength crumpled the unconscious thug's skull. After taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes in time to widen as Asami broke the handcuff chain that held her free. Numb arms were stretched, and she doubled over for a moment as her muscles cramped. Even as she forced her posture to straighten she looked wide eyed at the half oni. "But you're hurt. Let me put a bandage on" she insisted.
Asami shook her head and said, "It's not enough to stop me." Truthfully the burning sensation of pain coursing through her body from the wound was enough to keep her midsection tense enough to stifle much of the bleeding; thanks to the hidden reddening of the skin beneath torn and bloody fabric. The bloodline of the half-oni would keep her fine for the time being. At least until she was able to get proper care. Perhaps to show Yuina that she is fine... A single hand met the top of the girl's head for a brief moment, then slid away as Asami began to walk for the lobby entrance. "Explain to me what's going on. Why were you taken?"
Yuina only looked confused for a moment, but the posture and strength that Asami clearly had was enough to convince her that her words were true. The hand set to the top of her head seemed to calm her enough to get her thoughts in order. At least there was no delay in her feet following along to the lobby entrance behind the sukeban. "They wanted a hostage to make Mallory Maeda surrender herself to them. I don't know what they want with her. I think to take her to another world entirely. These two kept talking about wanting to leave here and get back home. They grabbed me leaving the school library." she explained in a tense rush of words as her head turned around to look for more of the hired guards that might be on their way.
The more guards Yuina found would look much like the one that had been left in the small entry point before the lobby. The visual aftermath of bloodshed was strewn about in the form of a carpet of violent red carpet that the sukeban walked upon on her way into the lobby. It became apparent that she hadn't been alone, as there had been another sitting atop a bike outside of the decrepit building. Yuzuki Kuwabara. Asami's lips parted but a sound soon caught her ear, which is why she pressed a rough hand to Yuina's back to push her forward and out of the way as the sudden raking of claws caught the half-oni's arm where the girl had only been moments prior. Blood scattered across the ground as it spilled from the new wound Asami suffered. The sukeban had no time to think over what was happening. She was running on pure instinct at that point as she caught the secondary blow the assailant followed up with. Hand caught wrist and gripped roughly; and this allowed Asami a look at the attacker. A woman in darkened attire and stringy black hair.. the skin which was visible had been as pale as the moon, though it now shared a show of red from Asami's own blood. With her arm taken the woman rushed in with its twin in the form of a knife-hand that sought Asami's midsection — but that was caught by the half-oni as well. The struggle of strength began.
“Yuzu.. Get her back to Kabuki," Asami could be heard saying during the struggle.
Yuina had enough time to spot Yuzuki on the bike awaiting their getaway, recognizing her as she had Asami from seeing them in the gymnasium at school. Then as she was thrown clear of the attack she stumbled, turning to see the pale vampiric form now struggling with the half oni. Instinct overcame courage and she was running toward Yuzuki and the bike even as the sounds of their battle continued. Yuzuki was halfway dismounted from the vehicle, her own instinct to come over and join to defend her sukeban. She heard Asami's order however, and clambered back onto the bike just in time for Yuina to join her and climb aboard the back of the seat.
The vampiric assailant's eyes sprang wide and she hissed as she felt the strength of Asami's grasp upon catching her incoming claw attacks. She growled, frustrated and startled to find an opponent that could overcome her own undead strength. Her stringy hair flew as her head darted in, trying to sink her teeth into Asami as both her hands were caught and prevented from doing harm with their claw-like nails.
The flash of teeth as the vampire opened her mouth was caught by Asami and she sprung into action. Her leg rose and knee suddenly sunk into the undead woman's stomach to keep her away, if only for a moment, so Asami could bend and extend the leg soon after to press the heel of her boot to the woman's midsection. The half-only still had control of her arms and gripped at them tightly while also pushing more and more with that well placed foot. The strain it created was more then uncomfortable as her intentions were to try and rip the woman's limbs away from her body.. Yet the strength of a vampire isn't something to disregard, which is why — with a sudden hop from her remaining grounded leg, she'd kick her second boot into the vampires chest to push along with the first; and was just what she needed to apply her strength fully.
Having been confident that her bite would finish off this challenger the vampire screamed in protest as she instead found herself pushed away with the powerful strike of the knee. Even with the robust supernatural toughness there was a sound of some ribs snapping under the pressure of that sudden lift of the knee. She struggled frantically as she felt the painful strain resulting from Asami pulling on her limbs, those powerful limbs able to resist - at least unil the hop and sudden kick added the extreme leverage to the monstrous strength pulling. There was a horrible snap of bones, and then a gristly ripping sound as the shocked vampire fell back, arms ripping loose to be left still firmly in Asami's grasp. The now armless vampire fell back, blood soaking her dark cloak as she thrashed wildly on the ground with agonized shrieks.
Asami hit the ground as well with the help of gravity, but would not be down for long. The half-oni rose back to her feet after releasing the arms all together and quickly advanced onto her target. With a sudden pump of the knee she'd raise her foot and send it rushing down onto the vampires head. Unlike the unconscious guard this woman was something more; which meant that not one, not two, but multiple downfalls of that foot followed. One after another she sought to crush the head of the vampire into the pavement while she looked upon the fallen and flailing form with unblinking eyes. The mush that was left was nothing more than overkill.. and even then the body moved — the twitching and jerking of undeath still playing its part while Asami was left to look down upon what remained of the headless and armless body with her salty expression. She quickly looked behind herself to see that Yuzuki had indeed done as she was told. The roar of the bike becoming nothing more than a soft echo in the distance while Asami watched. She then looked back to the writhing body.. she'd watch as the seconds pass and the flailing became more than subtle twitches here and there, before finally there was nothing. Asami gave a squint of the eyes, as if not sure if the creature was fully dead or not, but decided that waiting around wasn't the best option. So with a turn the half-oni began to follow after the trail of Yuzuki to head back to Kabuki with haste.
Ahead of Asami...
The echoing of the bike engine's roar never slowed as Yuzuki returned back toward the boundary of Kabuki street, even when a pair of redcap soldiers that hadn't fled the neighborhood when it was occupied by the vampires rushed out to attempt to block the road. Drawing the Lucky daito from her waist, the heavenly queen kept the bike steady even as the bright sword flashed in two quick arcs that cut the marauding redcaps down to leave in their wake, litter for Asami to pass by as she followed behind them.
-
Kamaboko Tengan
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 2
- Joined: Sun Mar 03, 2019 8:59 pm
- Location: RhyDin, usually on or near the water
Re: Bloodbound
Kabuki Street.
In a matter of hours, one hundred fae knights had been mustered from Little Elfhame and the Wayward Court, likely the greatest number of their kind that had been in Kabuki Street at any one time. They massed around the armory, and though many more of them wore playful or wickedly eager smiles than grim faces, they had their instructions: the target of their mischief was not their comrades-in-arms, but the undead beasts and enemies of their Queen that they would face in Three Foxes Court.
When they faced them. News of the taking of a young hostage in addition to Mallory Maeda meant that they had to wait, the tension coiled tighter than any spring as their silver weapons gleamed under the flashing signs from Kabuki Street nearby.
The gathering of the Kabuki Street Rengou-kai around the Toranomon Department Store was less bright but no less colorful. With the addition of many former delinquents their numbers had grown to more than two hundred, but their gear was far from uniform. A wide variety of seifuku uniforms, sukajans and boiler suits of all colors were arrayed. For such a large gathering of yanki they were uncharacteristically quiet and subdued, standing around in desultory circles. Many were checking equipment, rifle magazines being topped off, trench knives being sharpened and examined, and makeshift clubs hefted nervously. Everyone knew about the abduction of Mallory Maeda, and taking Yuina Hurano as a hostage to stop retaliation, and rumors were making their way down the delinquent grapevine about relics stolen from the neighborhood’s Zama Shrine...
There was a cluster that stood out even among the rengou-kai, comprising its current and former leadership. As one of its founding members Kamaboko Tengan was not far from this group, her presence announced by the boat anchor she dragged by a chain and the bag of gummy worms she noisily snacked on. When her phone rang with a jolly 1970s brass theme, she handed the unfinished bag to a bewildered younger delinquent nearby and answered the call.
“Taiko?” It was her nickname for her young cousin. She looked over the leaders speculatively, especially, Eri, as she wound the heavy chain around her fingers. “Mm... okay. Maybe hearing this news from me... maybe they’ll stop hating--” She held out the phone, as evidently the call had disconnected, and then turned a toothy grin on the sukeban and the Heavenly Queens. “Asami and Yuzuki rescued Yuina. She’s safe now... which means there’s no stopping us anymore,” and a mad laugh slowly built up as she began twirling the chain, giving the anchor a few good spins (that got everyone close to her to back way up).
Eri blinked at Kamaboko, but didn’t look surprised for long at the quick action from Asami and Yuzuki. “All right” the half-oni said, voice not carrying far. The shrill blast of the trench whistle she brought up carried better, and got the attention of the whole group clustered around the basement armory entrance beside the department store. At that sound all turned, and knowing the signal began to move at once down the brightly lit main street. They seemed to disperse without signal, splitting into smaller groups that were noisily breaking into a run down various alleys and paths off the main thoroughfare at the south end of the neighborhood, the very section bordering the northwestern boundary of Three Foxes Court.
The groups spread out to charge into enemy territory and the massive form of Runt went thudding along after the delinquents, hefting his double ram-headed warhammer he declared, “RUNT PROTECT TINY VAN! BREKKEN ALL DE MAU-TAK IN T’REE FOX COURT. BRAHAHAHAHA.”
Michelle stood on the rooftop of a narrow three-story residence butting up against Three Foxes Court. She closed her eyes, gripping the diamond key in her left hand and the rod of shadow in her right. The Fell was close. She could feel it in the fog brought by the ancient vampire and his spawn. Murmuring in latin Michelle focused on the hot winds of Cadentia, how they whipped around the clay buildings and moaned through the mountain pass. Trees shook and the alleys whistled as wind whipped into the court, blowing the fog towards her. As the unnatural mist rose up to meet her, Michelle wove shadowcant into her spell, crafting the very defense used against them into her own protective shield. When she floated down from the rooftops, Michelle was but a shadow herself, a figure in the fog. Only traces of mist, mostly natural, were left in the streets as the Kabuki Street Rengou-kai and Little Elfhame knights advanced.
((Written with the players and / or permission of various characters involved, with thanks!))
In a matter of hours, one hundred fae knights had been mustered from Little Elfhame and the Wayward Court, likely the greatest number of their kind that had been in Kabuki Street at any one time. They massed around the armory, and though many more of them wore playful or wickedly eager smiles than grim faces, they had their instructions: the target of their mischief was not their comrades-in-arms, but the undead beasts and enemies of their Queen that they would face in Three Foxes Court.
When they faced them. News of the taking of a young hostage in addition to Mallory Maeda meant that they had to wait, the tension coiled tighter than any spring as their silver weapons gleamed under the flashing signs from Kabuki Street nearby.
The gathering of the Kabuki Street Rengou-kai around the Toranomon Department Store was less bright but no less colorful. With the addition of many former delinquents their numbers had grown to more than two hundred, but their gear was far from uniform. A wide variety of seifuku uniforms, sukajans and boiler suits of all colors were arrayed. For such a large gathering of yanki they were uncharacteristically quiet and subdued, standing around in desultory circles. Many were checking equipment, rifle magazines being topped off, trench knives being sharpened and examined, and makeshift clubs hefted nervously. Everyone knew about the abduction of Mallory Maeda, and taking Yuina Hurano as a hostage to stop retaliation, and rumors were making their way down the delinquent grapevine about relics stolen from the neighborhood’s Zama Shrine...
There was a cluster that stood out even among the rengou-kai, comprising its current and former leadership. As one of its founding members Kamaboko Tengan was not far from this group, her presence announced by the boat anchor she dragged by a chain and the bag of gummy worms she noisily snacked on. When her phone rang with a jolly 1970s brass theme, she handed the unfinished bag to a bewildered younger delinquent nearby and answered the call.
“Taiko?” It was her nickname for her young cousin. She looked over the leaders speculatively, especially, Eri, as she wound the heavy chain around her fingers. “Mm... okay. Maybe hearing this news from me... maybe they’ll stop hating--” She held out the phone, as evidently the call had disconnected, and then turned a toothy grin on the sukeban and the Heavenly Queens. “Asami and Yuzuki rescued Yuina. She’s safe now... which means there’s no stopping us anymore,” and a mad laugh slowly built up as she began twirling the chain, giving the anchor a few good spins (that got everyone close to her to back way up).
Eri blinked at Kamaboko, but didn’t look surprised for long at the quick action from Asami and Yuzuki. “All right” the half-oni said, voice not carrying far. The shrill blast of the trench whistle she brought up carried better, and got the attention of the whole group clustered around the basement armory entrance beside the department store. At that sound all turned, and knowing the signal began to move at once down the brightly lit main street. They seemed to disperse without signal, splitting into smaller groups that were noisily breaking into a run down various alleys and paths off the main thoroughfare at the south end of the neighborhood, the very section bordering the northwestern boundary of Three Foxes Court.
The groups spread out to charge into enemy territory and the massive form of Runt went thudding along after the delinquents, hefting his double ram-headed warhammer he declared, “RUNT PROTECT TINY VAN! BREKKEN ALL DE MAU-TAK IN T’REE FOX COURT. BRAHAHAHAHA.”
Michelle stood on the rooftop of a narrow three-story residence butting up against Three Foxes Court. She closed her eyes, gripping the diamond key in her left hand and the rod of shadow in her right. The Fell was close. She could feel it in the fog brought by the ancient vampire and his spawn. Murmuring in latin Michelle focused on the hot winds of Cadentia, how they whipped around the clay buildings and moaned through the mountain pass. Trees shook and the alleys whistled as wind whipped into the court, blowing the fog towards her. As the unnatural mist rose up to meet her, Michelle wove shadowcant into her spell, crafting the very defense used against them into her own protective shield. When she floated down from the rooftops, Michelle was but a shadow herself, a figure in the fog. Only traces of mist, mostly natural, were left in the streets as the Kabuki Street Rengou-kai and Little Elfhame knights advanced.
((Written with the players and / or permission of various characters involved, with thanks!))
-
Bloodbound
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Tue Dec 18, 2018 3:56 pm
- Location: RhyDin
Re: Bloodbound
Grimbard Keep.
The wind blowing from Kabuki Street towards Three Foxes Court pushed the roiling fog through the keep’s broken windows, covering the floors in the thick, soup-like mist all the way up to the throneroom. Lord Arius still sat upon the throne, and Mallory, dull-eyed yet quietly defiant, still stood in front of him, but his attention had strayed from her. “Meddling... after every warning, they decide to meddle with what is MINE!” he roared, springing from his seat and brushing right past her. Feral yellow eyes shot to the sword-wielding warlock making her way in, and he pointed at her -- “They are weakening our defenses and clearly mean to invade -- kill the girl, and throw her to them as a message.”
“The girl is gone, my lord,” the warlock said, not daring to meet Arius’ gaze.
“Gone?” he uttered incredulously. “A little girl, the easiest thing I could have given you to look after, and she is gone?!” He started towards her, snarling viciously as she flinched, then whirled on Mallory and backhanded her roughly, caught her by her blood-smeared throat and jabbed a finger at her face. “I don’t know what you have planned, but it won’t work, because you are mine, you hear me? Tell me, who do you belong to?”
“No one,” came her obedient reply, giving truth for his demand. “I am not a possession--”
He snarled again and threw her to the floor, then turned back to his warlock, shaking so much that her sword rattled as she avoided eye contact. “Get everyone, everyone, and tell them we are pulling out. I am taking my disobedient bride back home... to Vyrna.”
* * * * *
Vyrna - the culmination of the oni's scheme.
Tolling bells, the steady roar of a blaze, and the far more chaotic cry of a swelling mob filled the air in the city of Vyrna. Guards were rushing to the granaries to defend them from hungry peasants, but the deadly, zealous core of the uprising was not going for the food but for the lords and ladies -- namely the Volokhovs. The smaller houses in the district that belonged to Volokhov knights and other minor gentry burst into flame from Molotov cocktails, and the bloodthirsty crowd advanced on the manor faster than any unlucky guards caught out in the street before them could mount any meaningful defense before they were overwhelmed.
From within the Volokhov Manor, though, their elite guards were forming two lines behind the gate, ready to unleash rifle volleys as soon as the mob started trying to crash their way through. There was a cry from a high-ranking knight, and a saber hissed out of its sheath as he led a small group scrambling through the snow towards a weak section of the spiked iron fence where several figures were starting to squirm through.
At the gap there was a soft chant behind the figures squirming through, and a dark cloud of vapor rushed past the infiltrating peasants to streak toward the small knight-led group rushing to reinforce that section. It picked up speed as it came closer then split into tendrils that wavered and sought each individual guard, constricting and choking, their eyes rolling back as they convulsed and died in the snow. Roka himself crept through the gap behind his poisonous vapor spell, making a waving motion toward the rent iron fence. At the gesture of his hand the iron squealed, spiked bars bending to widen the gap in the damaged portion. As that gap widened he held up another hand to gesture to the mob waiting on the other side, signalling to advance in force into the courtyard.
In a matter of seconds, more than fifty screaming people had surged through the gap and more were coming in behind them. They flung bricks and stones through the nearest windows -- some bounced off glass that sparked a sickly green color with exterior wards, but the damaged windows in the partly burned old wing of the manor shattered and fell out, opening the way for the invaders.
The guards at the front gate began to wheel towards the damaged eastern wing, when thudding footsteps coming down the main road distracting them, and the unearthly wail that came from deep within the forlorn soul of a creature that has lots its head. The guards seemed heartened and the crowd suddenly frightened by this sound, and soon one of the headless undead giants that towed ships and cargo through the half-frozen harbor of Vyrna -- and kept the peace at times like this -- came into view behind the crowd. Flesh had rotted away from its ribcage, showing a terrible prison of dark webbing for the poor souls it elected to capture instead of destroy, and a necromantic blue flame flickered over the twisted knot that had once been its neck.
Pale feet thudded towards the back of the crowd, the guards let up a triumphant cry, and it stepped into a large sigil hidden in the street, kicking up a large cloud of snow around it. The giant went still for a long moment, obscured from view as the snow took time to settle again.
Then another eerie cry sounded from within its chest, and it went thundering forward, ignoring the mob that rushed out of its way in either direction. It brought its arms up high over its head, then down into the gate, bending iron into the first line of guards, flattening or skewering most of them, and sending the rest staggering back or falling over. A dozen useless shots pierced its hide before it started grabbing up the rest of them, flinging them into the walls of the manor, then sprinting to the main doors to hammer away at the increasingly strained, steadily weakening wards.
Roka was hanging back with the peasants that were throwing projectiles at the windows and watching the undead giants progress. When it began to hammer at the walls his eyes traced the visible shape of those green wards. Strangely serene in the snowy and chaotic courtyard he began a low chant, hardly audible while his eyes moved over the lines of warding spells. As his gaze passed over them the lines began to shift and reform into new shapes. As the last of the visible ones was altered they activated in unison, warding spells changed into charged sigils to shatter stone and wood with a deep booming sound. The force unleashed cracked the old walls right down to the foundation, impact driving up a huge cloud of snow that obscured sight for several moments.
The terrible cracks and rumbles and roars that followed ignited the imagination where sight failed, and as the snow cleared, it was revealed that upper sections of the walls were falling away, the corners of the building swayed and buckled, and the roof gave out in great sections, caving in and straining the floor below. The mob that had been planning to surge in through the openings wisely hesitated, electing instead to form a massive ring around the crumbling building to cheer its damage and destruction. They gathered falling stones to hurl through the windows or reserve as ammunition, and flung more of the Molotov cocktails through the openings. Fire roared where they landed, and soon smoke was billowing out in great plumes that rivaled the city’s seemingly unending snowfall.
The giant was not so cautious. It broke down the main doors and lumbered into the heart of the manor, swinging its great arms at any creature that tried to get past it, stomping guards and fleeing nobles into paste, ripping out columns and supports and using them as weapons, as more and more stone fell onto its breaking body.
Many of the guards and the Volokhovs were making their way outside other ways, and found themselves instead face to face with a violent mob. Pleas were ignored, offers of jewels and silver were ignored, and they fell upon the old ruling family with clubs, knives, feet, fists, and the fury that only a wily old mountain demon could give them.
Among the crowd stumbling out was an exhausted old woman in a heavy velvet dress, her hair wild and her face streaked with soot, slippered feet landing in the snow as she hugged a silver chest protectively. There was a small ring of knights around her, lashing out with glaives to slash at the crowd and keep them at bay as they sought an exit from the already ruined eastern wing.
Roka spotted the ring of knights and glimpsed the old noble lady that they surrounded. He grinned and broke into a run toward the group, pushing back the hood of his cloak as he advanced on them. He halted just short of the swing of one of the knights glaives, reaching out hand to grasp the haft of the weapon. The experienced soldier tried to twist the weapon back and up to bring it back in line with the advancing Roka, but the power of the tug that he gave sent him sprawling and ensured that he retrieved the weapon himself.
With one side of the defensive formation broken the peasants were quickly overwhelming the remaining encircling knights, leaving Roka’s path open to charge with the polearm leveled at the elder Volokhov’s stomach. She let out a groan as it embedded in her flesh and the chest toppled from her grasp, landing at Roka’s feet. She wrapped pale, shaky hands around the haft of the weapon and scowled at him as her fingers formed the shape of a necrotic spell, dark waves pulsing down the length to wash over the demon -- all of her power, all of her hate, every bit of magic she could call upon in a desperate bid to kill the old man before he finished killing her.
The necrotic energy coursed over the haft of the glaive and into Roka’s hands, flesh withering and darkening from the energy. It seemed that the malicious power in that final spell was winning, beginning inch by inch to advance up his wrists and arms. Then the darkening flesh abruptly shifted to a blue color, withered muscle returning to normal form. As his exposed skin shifted hue, the old mountain demon’s eyes were obscured by an apparitional circular glow, baleful yellow lamps staring heatedly at Jeza while her spell was finally resisted and began to reverse, slowly retreating back toward the caster down the weapon that he still clutched.
She saw the necrotic waves turning slowly against her, even as her punctured veins and organs spilled precious blood into the snow. “You... you are no one, all these wretches are no one!” she howled, shuddering with wracking pain as the dark magic finally touched her withering hands. “What family put you up to this?! Tell me! Was it all of them? Was it their jealousy?!”
When the spell was fully reversed Roka’s skin turned back to the normal human shade, though the strange yellow glow of eyes remained shining on her as he watched her last struggles. His voice was low but pitched for her to hear. “You said it. No one, really. Just the Maedas… who live in this hole.”
Jeza’s face twisted, and she let out a final scream before the necrotic spell burst across her flesh, reducing her skin to dust, a pile of bones that collapsed within her dress, as the Volokhov manor crumbled and burned at her back.
((Written with Roka, with thanks!))
The wind blowing from Kabuki Street towards Three Foxes Court pushed the roiling fog through the keep’s broken windows, covering the floors in the thick, soup-like mist all the way up to the throneroom. Lord Arius still sat upon the throne, and Mallory, dull-eyed yet quietly defiant, still stood in front of him, but his attention had strayed from her. “Meddling... after every warning, they decide to meddle with what is MINE!” he roared, springing from his seat and brushing right past her. Feral yellow eyes shot to the sword-wielding warlock making her way in, and he pointed at her -- “They are weakening our defenses and clearly mean to invade -- kill the girl, and throw her to them as a message.”
“The girl is gone, my lord,” the warlock said, not daring to meet Arius’ gaze.
“Gone?” he uttered incredulously. “A little girl, the easiest thing I could have given you to look after, and she is gone?!” He started towards her, snarling viciously as she flinched, then whirled on Mallory and backhanded her roughly, caught her by her blood-smeared throat and jabbed a finger at her face. “I don’t know what you have planned, but it won’t work, because you are mine, you hear me? Tell me, who do you belong to?”
“No one,” came her obedient reply, giving truth for his demand. “I am not a possession--”
He snarled again and threw her to the floor, then turned back to his warlock, shaking so much that her sword rattled as she avoided eye contact. “Get everyone, everyone, and tell them we are pulling out. I am taking my disobedient bride back home... to Vyrna.”
* * * * *
Vyrna - the culmination of the oni's scheme.
Tolling bells, the steady roar of a blaze, and the far more chaotic cry of a swelling mob filled the air in the city of Vyrna. Guards were rushing to the granaries to defend them from hungry peasants, but the deadly, zealous core of the uprising was not going for the food but for the lords and ladies -- namely the Volokhovs. The smaller houses in the district that belonged to Volokhov knights and other minor gentry burst into flame from Molotov cocktails, and the bloodthirsty crowd advanced on the manor faster than any unlucky guards caught out in the street before them could mount any meaningful defense before they were overwhelmed.
From within the Volokhov Manor, though, their elite guards were forming two lines behind the gate, ready to unleash rifle volleys as soon as the mob started trying to crash their way through. There was a cry from a high-ranking knight, and a saber hissed out of its sheath as he led a small group scrambling through the snow towards a weak section of the spiked iron fence where several figures were starting to squirm through.
At the gap there was a soft chant behind the figures squirming through, and a dark cloud of vapor rushed past the infiltrating peasants to streak toward the small knight-led group rushing to reinforce that section. It picked up speed as it came closer then split into tendrils that wavered and sought each individual guard, constricting and choking, their eyes rolling back as they convulsed and died in the snow. Roka himself crept through the gap behind his poisonous vapor spell, making a waving motion toward the rent iron fence. At the gesture of his hand the iron squealed, spiked bars bending to widen the gap in the damaged portion. As that gap widened he held up another hand to gesture to the mob waiting on the other side, signalling to advance in force into the courtyard.
In a matter of seconds, more than fifty screaming people had surged through the gap and more were coming in behind them. They flung bricks and stones through the nearest windows -- some bounced off glass that sparked a sickly green color with exterior wards, but the damaged windows in the partly burned old wing of the manor shattered and fell out, opening the way for the invaders.
The guards at the front gate began to wheel towards the damaged eastern wing, when thudding footsteps coming down the main road distracting them, and the unearthly wail that came from deep within the forlorn soul of a creature that has lots its head. The guards seemed heartened and the crowd suddenly frightened by this sound, and soon one of the headless undead giants that towed ships and cargo through the half-frozen harbor of Vyrna -- and kept the peace at times like this -- came into view behind the crowd. Flesh had rotted away from its ribcage, showing a terrible prison of dark webbing for the poor souls it elected to capture instead of destroy, and a necromantic blue flame flickered over the twisted knot that had once been its neck.
Pale feet thudded towards the back of the crowd, the guards let up a triumphant cry, and it stepped into a large sigil hidden in the street, kicking up a large cloud of snow around it. The giant went still for a long moment, obscured from view as the snow took time to settle again.
Then another eerie cry sounded from within its chest, and it went thundering forward, ignoring the mob that rushed out of its way in either direction. It brought its arms up high over its head, then down into the gate, bending iron into the first line of guards, flattening or skewering most of them, and sending the rest staggering back or falling over. A dozen useless shots pierced its hide before it started grabbing up the rest of them, flinging them into the walls of the manor, then sprinting to the main doors to hammer away at the increasingly strained, steadily weakening wards.
Roka was hanging back with the peasants that were throwing projectiles at the windows and watching the undead giants progress. When it began to hammer at the walls his eyes traced the visible shape of those green wards. Strangely serene in the snowy and chaotic courtyard he began a low chant, hardly audible while his eyes moved over the lines of warding spells. As his gaze passed over them the lines began to shift and reform into new shapes. As the last of the visible ones was altered they activated in unison, warding spells changed into charged sigils to shatter stone and wood with a deep booming sound. The force unleashed cracked the old walls right down to the foundation, impact driving up a huge cloud of snow that obscured sight for several moments.
The terrible cracks and rumbles and roars that followed ignited the imagination where sight failed, and as the snow cleared, it was revealed that upper sections of the walls were falling away, the corners of the building swayed and buckled, and the roof gave out in great sections, caving in and straining the floor below. The mob that had been planning to surge in through the openings wisely hesitated, electing instead to form a massive ring around the crumbling building to cheer its damage and destruction. They gathered falling stones to hurl through the windows or reserve as ammunition, and flung more of the Molotov cocktails through the openings. Fire roared where they landed, and soon smoke was billowing out in great plumes that rivaled the city’s seemingly unending snowfall.
The giant was not so cautious. It broke down the main doors and lumbered into the heart of the manor, swinging its great arms at any creature that tried to get past it, stomping guards and fleeing nobles into paste, ripping out columns and supports and using them as weapons, as more and more stone fell onto its breaking body.
Many of the guards and the Volokhovs were making their way outside other ways, and found themselves instead face to face with a violent mob. Pleas were ignored, offers of jewels and silver were ignored, and they fell upon the old ruling family with clubs, knives, feet, fists, and the fury that only a wily old mountain demon could give them.
Among the crowd stumbling out was an exhausted old woman in a heavy velvet dress, her hair wild and her face streaked with soot, slippered feet landing in the snow as she hugged a silver chest protectively. There was a small ring of knights around her, lashing out with glaives to slash at the crowd and keep them at bay as they sought an exit from the already ruined eastern wing.
Roka spotted the ring of knights and glimpsed the old noble lady that they surrounded. He grinned and broke into a run toward the group, pushing back the hood of his cloak as he advanced on them. He halted just short of the swing of one of the knights glaives, reaching out hand to grasp the haft of the weapon. The experienced soldier tried to twist the weapon back and up to bring it back in line with the advancing Roka, but the power of the tug that he gave sent him sprawling and ensured that he retrieved the weapon himself.
With one side of the defensive formation broken the peasants were quickly overwhelming the remaining encircling knights, leaving Roka’s path open to charge with the polearm leveled at the elder Volokhov’s stomach. She let out a groan as it embedded in her flesh and the chest toppled from her grasp, landing at Roka’s feet. She wrapped pale, shaky hands around the haft of the weapon and scowled at him as her fingers formed the shape of a necrotic spell, dark waves pulsing down the length to wash over the demon -- all of her power, all of her hate, every bit of magic she could call upon in a desperate bid to kill the old man before he finished killing her.
The necrotic energy coursed over the haft of the glaive and into Roka’s hands, flesh withering and darkening from the energy. It seemed that the malicious power in that final spell was winning, beginning inch by inch to advance up his wrists and arms. Then the darkening flesh abruptly shifted to a blue color, withered muscle returning to normal form. As his exposed skin shifted hue, the old mountain demon’s eyes were obscured by an apparitional circular glow, baleful yellow lamps staring heatedly at Jeza while her spell was finally resisted and began to reverse, slowly retreating back toward the caster down the weapon that he still clutched.
She saw the necrotic waves turning slowly against her, even as her punctured veins and organs spilled precious blood into the snow. “You... you are no one, all these wretches are no one!” she howled, shuddering with wracking pain as the dark magic finally touched her withering hands. “What family put you up to this?! Tell me! Was it all of them? Was it their jealousy?!”
When the spell was fully reversed Roka’s skin turned back to the normal human shade, though the strange yellow glow of eyes remained shining on her as he watched her last struggles. His voice was low but pitched for her to hear. “You said it. No one, really. Just the Maedas… who live in this hole.”
Jeza’s face twisted, and she let out a final scream before the necrotic spell burst across her flesh, reducing her skin to dust, a pile of bones that collapsed within her dress, as the Volokhov manor crumbled and burned at her back.
((Written with Roka, with thanks!))
-
Bloodbound
- Junior Adventurer
- Posts: 14
- Joined: Tue Dec 18, 2018 3:56 pm
- Location: RhyDin
Re: Bloodbound
The Battle of Bailey Street.
“What do you mean they’re not answering?!” Arius scowled as he stalked a circle around a thin spot in reality, out in the middle of Bailey Street by the docks, the same way they had entered this world. But it was not a two-way door -- the Vyrna end was assumed to be secure, while the RhyDin end could have let in redcap swarms or worse if they had left it open.
The foul streets of Three Foxes Court were quiet, even by the standards of Arius’ bloodthirsty reign. Usually there were sounds of his minions on the hunt, and the slum’s various denizens trying to avoid them, but the only sound filling the street here was the steady blowing of a hot desert wind that came from the north instead of south. It made the warlocks and fledgling vampires accompanying them wary, eyes scanning the rooftops, while a man in heavy velvet robes held a silver-studded skull in his hands, shut his eyes, and tried to reach Vyrna again.
“There’s nothing — look, the portal!” the scrying warlock whispered, and the ripple in reality where the portal should have been able to open suddenly collapsed, sending out not a burst of snowfall but smoke, ash, fiery heat, and the heavy smells of blood and burning flesh.
Arius’ eyes widened with incredulous rage at the impossible turn of events, while another of his warlocks had the sense to urge, “My lord, we must return to the keep—!”
The Kabuki Street force arrived at the keep not all at once, but in several waves converging from various alley entrances and corners, in groups of several dozen. Some of the delinquents with rifles moved up to scout the crumbling structure, but one whistled and made a pointing gesture down the block, toward where she had spotted the group with Arius.
Eri herself clambered up on a stone wall that lined one of the broken structures before the keep itself, taking a cautious look over. When she hopped back to clatter on the stones with her heavy boots she motioned Izumi, Riho and Kamaboko over. “See?” she asked, pointing in the direction the enemy was sighted. “We could use smoke screen and advance, charge the last block or so. What do you think?”
Kamaboko took in the sight of the vampire and the force of about fifty arrayed around him, including gargoyles beginning to wheel into the sky and soar towards them, with a growing smile of sadistic glee. She snapped her fingers and made a sharp motion to her horrible friends nearby, some of whom continued to text one-handed as they prepared smoke grenades. Several were pitched by hand, while two girls hunkered by one of the redcaps’ old barricades and began to load and fire rounds from an M243, the red phosphorous rounds creating dense white smoke all the way up to a block away from the enemy.
They weren’t static, though; they were moving, initially advancing, then retreating from the edge of the smoke as it filled Bailey Street. Creatures could be seen joining them from the south, a few at a time, more still tried to make their way down the side streets and through the smoke to reinforce their master, while others skittered over the rooftops to the north. There a number of the gargoyles could be seen flying overhead and descending towards some unfolding fray, where eerie Sylvan battle cries and the clash of silver and the screeching of the undead echoed, and bolts of arcane lightning and bursts of Abyssal fire lit up the air, incinerating and disintegrating enemies on the ground.
“We should kill him... before he reinforces... set aside all the gummy worms, I’m going to kill them all...!” Kamaboko all but howled, eyes wild, barely restraining herself as she whirled the anchor into motion and took several narrowly controlled false starts towards a charge.
When the smoke was visible, Eri made a gesture to indicate the side alleys now blocked from sight, prompting most of the delinquent force to split and begin scurrying in either direction. The gargoyles swooped down but could not find the advancing delinquents through the smoke, and rifle fire cracked from around the keep as the lingering force kept there picked off the flying monsters and tried to stem the tide of feral creatures scurrying out of the keep itself.
Though the advancing force’s passage was far from silent, there were no shouts yet, only the clatter and scrape of footwear on the old broken stones of the street. Until they began gathering in numbers at the edge of the final block. Once the last stragglers were in place, Izumi peeked around the corner and looked back to Eri with a nod. Eri brought the metal whistle to her lips again and its shrill screech was soon echoed by a dozen or so others signalling the charge. Now shouting could be heard as they came into view only a block from Arius and his guards, bewildering cries of ‘Fifty-four and no more!’ that echoed along the smoky streets as the rushing delinquents leveled bayonets and raised entrenching shovels.
Arius had backed himself towards the waterfront, one arm braced around Mallory’s neck, who remained under his spell, looking on dispassionately as the knights of Little Elfhame and a few others -- a fiery Cajun, a shadowy mage with her hound, and one frost giant protecting a small delinquent contingent while gleefully splattering his enemies with a hammer -- fought their way forward from the north. The vampire’s attention was divided, but he had decided for himself what the greater threat was, and plunged his fangs into Mallory’s neck again; she gasped but he stopped her from buckling with his vicelike grip, and as the potent blood flowed into his mouth and filled his veins and fueled his magic, he stretched out a hand to send large necrotic bolts streaking towards his enemies, three at a time.
He had not considered the delinquents to be any more than young women playing at gangster, and no orders had come from him to deal with the bayonet charged. The few warlocks arrayed in that direction were giving contradicting shouts, as the fledgling vampires around them alternately rushed to meet the charge in small groups while others drew back in an attempt to form a line. Their abortive counter-charge was overwhelmed by the flash of steel and a swinging anchor popping one vampire’s head clean off, before the delinquents were crashing into the flank full force.
Though young, the delinquents practiced with these weapons often and most of them had previously had ample experience in this sort of battle with the redcaps over the previous several years. They were rapidly carving through the heart of Arius’s force in the main street, decisively hacking with their shovels, lunging with the cruel bayonets and spiked trench knives. As the main salient pressed into the center of the street, smaller groups of delinquents would occasionally break away from the sides to the entrances of side streets. There they rallied at the blood freezing sound of those whistles, pausing to form lines that held back straggling undead reinforcements that attempted to join the fight from those avenues. Even with a few leaving the main charge it was hardly slowing at all and was soon perilously close to flanking and cutting off Arius from retreat.
“We must retreat!” cried one of his warlocks from the north, bloodied and weakened from a poisoned fae blade, and turned to implore his master from afar. “To the desert-- find a hideout--!” He’d been inattentive for seconds, which was too long. There was a whoosh, a crack, and a triumphant roar as a giant’s warhammer caught him on a low swing and went up, launching him clean over the delinquent salient and into the street beyond.
Arius’ eyes flashed and he tore away from Mallory’s neck again, his face smeared with her blood as he glared over the rapidly changing battleground. It made no sense to him how the delinquents could have advanced so far through his minions and so quickly, and now they were cutting off his only chance at retreat -- to the south down the Dockside waterfront, and into the desert beyond. A mine, a cave, someplace to hide away and reorganize, finish breaking the blood witch, and get his revenge. He let out a howl of rage and threw a hand down at the street in front of him at the moment the salient reached him, and fissures formed in the stone, spitting out choking black mist and issuing concusive blasts of arcane force as the street broke apart before him, trying to stretch the fissures twenty feet through the delinquents and whoever else happened to be in his way to secure himself an exit.
The delinquents at the front of the charge faltered, but could not stop their advance with so much momentum. For a moment it seemed they would be cut down by the blast of arcane force and that a number behind them would tumble into the fissures. In the instant before the blast reached the front lines, from the middle of the delinquent salient came a greeting, the pleasant and melodic voice of Aiko Fujii soon echoed by her twin sister Kana. Yetzirah, Yetzirah
The greeting echoed once and at the spell that it amplifed sprang up visibly. A barrier of gold glowing sigils in a line, burning into the air across the street for a moment. While a number of delinquents at the front were staggered onto their backs or bowled over by the first burst of force, the celestial barrier stopped the fissures themselves before they could deepen and advance, sending webs of dark power crackling up the shield with a terrific crashing sound. The golden sigils buckled but held for the instant long enough to stop the spell, then blinked out in a shower of sparks that twinkled as they descended through the dissipating black mist.
With that, Arius had hardly made himself an exit, only a moment of respite. He shoved Mallory away roughly, with a growled “take her!” to a nearby minion, and conjured a shadowy sword into both hands, and finally echoed his fallen warlock’s cries: “Retreat! To the south -- rally to me!” he snarled, pressing forward in that direction in a desperate bid to lead a breakout. His forces were pressing in that direction, though a number were cut down at the moment that they turned away from their attackers as their lines completely collapsed. There were maybe a dozen trying to press south with him, the skies above were all but clear of the gargoyles that had been terrorizing RhyDin for several months, and there was barely any distance at all between himself and the delinquent advance.
Though Eri was near the front of the charge as usual, Izumi was lingering a bit back. Malingering in fact, a bit as she nursed a slight foot injury and stood behind a corner of a building on one of the side streets. She was looking over her shoulder when she spotted Arius among the desperate retreat. Her eyes narrowed venomously, remembering the sight of the vampire from the arena. With pursed lips she concentrated on a spot to his right, focusing the latent psychic energy from the onryou curse while forming a picture in her mind of Mallory the witch struggling as if she had just broken free from the minion guarding her and was aiming a spell at Arius himself. Envisioned in her mind was soon that very image burned into the air itself, detailed down to the attire that Mallory was wearing.
“No! She is mine, you meddling bitch!” Arius was heedless of how the breakout attempt faltered as he stopped to turn his attention to the witch breaking free from his grasp. Releasing all other spells, he focused on her eyes and hissed the words, “See me and obey.”
There was no reaction or reply from the illusory image before him; instead what caught his ear was low syllables in Terran Primordial from behind him, like the sound of churning earth, as the witch grabbed the arms of the undead minion he had tossed her into and willed it to disintegrate. He looked over his shoulder to face her--
--and she had only to speak. The bloody price for her magic had already been paid, spilled from her throat and coursing through his ancient veins. She scowled in rage as Infernal speech spilled rapidly from her lips, ending on the word, “weuvyrw.”
There was a moment of horrified realization on Arius’ face before it was overtaken by intense pain. His skin was rippling, bulging out and breaking all over as segmented legs poked free, and his screams were choked by the rising tide of spiders from his throat. They burst from every part of his body and covered him in a terrible swarm, collapsing in a chittering pile as he disintegrated into a cloud of black mist.
The last of his forces were dead or dying. The battle was lost. The mist that constituted the remaining essence of Lord Arius began to drift away from them, turning to retreat to the south.
Dead gargoyles, severed limbs and such were scattered across the rooftop of a building overlooking the fray, save for a perfect summoning circle enclosed around a devoted Tengu praying before a stolen blade. The ax wielding wizard keeping watch over her grew tired, wiping at her gore spattered features just before an immediate and brilliant burst of divine sunlight appeared before the Tengu and flooded over the area.
Many things followed, some all at once. While the light blinded the wizard, she still reached for the nearby squeaking turtle at her feet and wouldn’t notice the Tengu showered in sunlight with fresh tears running down her face. Elsewhere of course, down in the street, the sunlight’s rays burned away the remaining undead, turned fleeing gargoyles to stone and sent them plummeting to the earth to shatter, and seared into the misty essence of the ancient vampire trying desperately to slip away.
A shriek tore out of the darkness as the miraculous sunlight in the dead of night ripped it apart, leaving nothing but faint traces of dust in the air when it blinked back out. The witch looked over her shoulder at the rooftop... and smiled.
She heard hob-nailed boots rapidly approaching, the familiar cadence of Eri hurrying towards her. Weary from blood loss, she stumbled as she turned, then threw herself into her wife’s arms, burying her face in the crook of her shoulder and squeezing her tight.
“I want to go home.”
((Written with, and with the permission of, the players of Runt, Mai, Penny, Eri, Cane, and other characters, with thanks!))
“What do you mean they’re not answering?!” Arius scowled as he stalked a circle around a thin spot in reality, out in the middle of Bailey Street by the docks, the same way they had entered this world. But it was not a two-way door -- the Vyrna end was assumed to be secure, while the RhyDin end could have let in redcap swarms or worse if they had left it open.
The foul streets of Three Foxes Court were quiet, even by the standards of Arius’ bloodthirsty reign. Usually there were sounds of his minions on the hunt, and the slum’s various denizens trying to avoid them, but the only sound filling the street here was the steady blowing of a hot desert wind that came from the north instead of south. It made the warlocks and fledgling vampires accompanying them wary, eyes scanning the rooftops, while a man in heavy velvet robes held a silver-studded skull in his hands, shut his eyes, and tried to reach Vyrna again.
“There’s nothing — look, the portal!” the scrying warlock whispered, and the ripple in reality where the portal should have been able to open suddenly collapsed, sending out not a burst of snowfall but smoke, ash, fiery heat, and the heavy smells of blood and burning flesh.
Arius’ eyes widened with incredulous rage at the impossible turn of events, while another of his warlocks had the sense to urge, “My lord, we must return to the keep—!”
The Kabuki Street force arrived at the keep not all at once, but in several waves converging from various alley entrances and corners, in groups of several dozen. Some of the delinquents with rifles moved up to scout the crumbling structure, but one whistled and made a pointing gesture down the block, toward where she had spotted the group with Arius.
Eri herself clambered up on a stone wall that lined one of the broken structures before the keep itself, taking a cautious look over. When she hopped back to clatter on the stones with her heavy boots she motioned Izumi, Riho and Kamaboko over. “See?” she asked, pointing in the direction the enemy was sighted. “We could use smoke screen and advance, charge the last block or so. What do you think?”
Kamaboko took in the sight of the vampire and the force of about fifty arrayed around him, including gargoyles beginning to wheel into the sky and soar towards them, with a growing smile of sadistic glee. She snapped her fingers and made a sharp motion to her horrible friends nearby, some of whom continued to text one-handed as they prepared smoke grenades. Several were pitched by hand, while two girls hunkered by one of the redcaps’ old barricades and began to load and fire rounds from an M243, the red phosphorous rounds creating dense white smoke all the way up to a block away from the enemy.
They weren’t static, though; they were moving, initially advancing, then retreating from the edge of the smoke as it filled Bailey Street. Creatures could be seen joining them from the south, a few at a time, more still tried to make their way down the side streets and through the smoke to reinforce their master, while others skittered over the rooftops to the north. There a number of the gargoyles could be seen flying overhead and descending towards some unfolding fray, where eerie Sylvan battle cries and the clash of silver and the screeching of the undead echoed, and bolts of arcane lightning and bursts of Abyssal fire lit up the air, incinerating and disintegrating enemies on the ground.
“We should kill him... before he reinforces... set aside all the gummy worms, I’m going to kill them all...!” Kamaboko all but howled, eyes wild, barely restraining herself as she whirled the anchor into motion and took several narrowly controlled false starts towards a charge.
When the smoke was visible, Eri made a gesture to indicate the side alleys now blocked from sight, prompting most of the delinquent force to split and begin scurrying in either direction. The gargoyles swooped down but could not find the advancing delinquents through the smoke, and rifle fire cracked from around the keep as the lingering force kept there picked off the flying monsters and tried to stem the tide of feral creatures scurrying out of the keep itself.
Though the advancing force’s passage was far from silent, there were no shouts yet, only the clatter and scrape of footwear on the old broken stones of the street. Until they began gathering in numbers at the edge of the final block. Once the last stragglers were in place, Izumi peeked around the corner and looked back to Eri with a nod. Eri brought the metal whistle to her lips again and its shrill screech was soon echoed by a dozen or so others signalling the charge. Now shouting could be heard as they came into view only a block from Arius and his guards, bewildering cries of ‘Fifty-four and no more!’ that echoed along the smoky streets as the rushing delinquents leveled bayonets and raised entrenching shovels.
Arius had backed himself towards the waterfront, one arm braced around Mallory’s neck, who remained under his spell, looking on dispassionately as the knights of Little Elfhame and a few others -- a fiery Cajun, a shadowy mage with her hound, and one frost giant protecting a small delinquent contingent while gleefully splattering his enemies with a hammer -- fought their way forward from the north. The vampire’s attention was divided, but he had decided for himself what the greater threat was, and plunged his fangs into Mallory’s neck again; she gasped but he stopped her from buckling with his vicelike grip, and as the potent blood flowed into his mouth and filled his veins and fueled his magic, he stretched out a hand to send large necrotic bolts streaking towards his enemies, three at a time.
He had not considered the delinquents to be any more than young women playing at gangster, and no orders had come from him to deal with the bayonet charged. The few warlocks arrayed in that direction were giving contradicting shouts, as the fledgling vampires around them alternately rushed to meet the charge in small groups while others drew back in an attempt to form a line. Their abortive counter-charge was overwhelmed by the flash of steel and a swinging anchor popping one vampire’s head clean off, before the delinquents were crashing into the flank full force.
Though young, the delinquents practiced with these weapons often and most of them had previously had ample experience in this sort of battle with the redcaps over the previous several years. They were rapidly carving through the heart of Arius’s force in the main street, decisively hacking with their shovels, lunging with the cruel bayonets and spiked trench knives. As the main salient pressed into the center of the street, smaller groups of delinquents would occasionally break away from the sides to the entrances of side streets. There they rallied at the blood freezing sound of those whistles, pausing to form lines that held back straggling undead reinforcements that attempted to join the fight from those avenues. Even with a few leaving the main charge it was hardly slowing at all and was soon perilously close to flanking and cutting off Arius from retreat.
“We must retreat!” cried one of his warlocks from the north, bloodied and weakened from a poisoned fae blade, and turned to implore his master from afar. “To the desert-- find a hideout--!” He’d been inattentive for seconds, which was too long. There was a whoosh, a crack, and a triumphant roar as a giant’s warhammer caught him on a low swing and went up, launching him clean over the delinquent salient and into the street beyond.
Arius’ eyes flashed and he tore away from Mallory’s neck again, his face smeared with her blood as he glared over the rapidly changing battleground. It made no sense to him how the delinquents could have advanced so far through his minions and so quickly, and now they were cutting off his only chance at retreat -- to the south down the Dockside waterfront, and into the desert beyond. A mine, a cave, someplace to hide away and reorganize, finish breaking the blood witch, and get his revenge. He let out a howl of rage and threw a hand down at the street in front of him at the moment the salient reached him, and fissures formed in the stone, spitting out choking black mist and issuing concusive blasts of arcane force as the street broke apart before him, trying to stretch the fissures twenty feet through the delinquents and whoever else happened to be in his way to secure himself an exit.
The delinquents at the front of the charge faltered, but could not stop their advance with so much momentum. For a moment it seemed they would be cut down by the blast of arcane force and that a number behind them would tumble into the fissures. In the instant before the blast reached the front lines, from the middle of the delinquent salient came a greeting, the pleasant and melodic voice of Aiko Fujii soon echoed by her twin sister Kana. Yetzirah, Yetzirah
The greeting echoed once and at the spell that it amplifed sprang up visibly. A barrier of gold glowing sigils in a line, burning into the air across the street for a moment. While a number of delinquents at the front were staggered onto their backs or bowled over by the first burst of force, the celestial barrier stopped the fissures themselves before they could deepen and advance, sending webs of dark power crackling up the shield with a terrific crashing sound. The golden sigils buckled but held for the instant long enough to stop the spell, then blinked out in a shower of sparks that twinkled as they descended through the dissipating black mist.
With that, Arius had hardly made himself an exit, only a moment of respite. He shoved Mallory away roughly, with a growled “take her!” to a nearby minion, and conjured a shadowy sword into both hands, and finally echoed his fallen warlock’s cries: “Retreat! To the south -- rally to me!” he snarled, pressing forward in that direction in a desperate bid to lead a breakout. His forces were pressing in that direction, though a number were cut down at the moment that they turned away from their attackers as their lines completely collapsed. There were maybe a dozen trying to press south with him, the skies above were all but clear of the gargoyles that had been terrorizing RhyDin for several months, and there was barely any distance at all between himself and the delinquent advance.
Though Eri was near the front of the charge as usual, Izumi was lingering a bit back. Malingering in fact, a bit as she nursed a slight foot injury and stood behind a corner of a building on one of the side streets. She was looking over her shoulder when she spotted Arius among the desperate retreat. Her eyes narrowed venomously, remembering the sight of the vampire from the arena. With pursed lips she concentrated on a spot to his right, focusing the latent psychic energy from the onryou curse while forming a picture in her mind of Mallory the witch struggling as if she had just broken free from the minion guarding her and was aiming a spell at Arius himself. Envisioned in her mind was soon that very image burned into the air itself, detailed down to the attire that Mallory was wearing.
“No! She is mine, you meddling bitch!” Arius was heedless of how the breakout attempt faltered as he stopped to turn his attention to the witch breaking free from his grasp. Releasing all other spells, he focused on her eyes and hissed the words, “See me and obey.”
There was no reaction or reply from the illusory image before him; instead what caught his ear was low syllables in Terran Primordial from behind him, like the sound of churning earth, as the witch grabbed the arms of the undead minion he had tossed her into and willed it to disintegrate. He looked over his shoulder to face her--
--and she had only to speak. The bloody price for her magic had already been paid, spilled from her throat and coursing through his ancient veins. She scowled in rage as Infernal speech spilled rapidly from her lips, ending on the word, “weuvyrw.”
There was a moment of horrified realization on Arius’ face before it was overtaken by intense pain. His skin was rippling, bulging out and breaking all over as segmented legs poked free, and his screams were choked by the rising tide of spiders from his throat. They burst from every part of his body and covered him in a terrible swarm, collapsing in a chittering pile as he disintegrated into a cloud of black mist.
The last of his forces were dead or dying. The battle was lost. The mist that constituted the remaining essence of Lord Arius began to drift away from them, turning to retreat to the south.
Dead gargoyles, severed limbs and such were scattered across the rooftop of a building overlooking the fray, save for a perfect summoning circle enclosed around a devoted Tengu praying before a stolen blade. The ax wielding wizard keeping watch over her grew tired, wiping at her gore spattered features just before an immediate and brilliant burst of divine sunlight appeared before the Tengu and flooded over the area.
Many things followed, some all at once. While the light blinded the wizard, she still reached for the nearby squeaking turtle at her feet and wouldn’t notice the Tengu showered in sunlight with fresh tears running down her face. Elsewhere of course, down in the street, the sunlight’s rays burned away the remaining undead, turned fleeing gargoyles to stone and sent them plummeting to the earth to shatter, and seared into the misty essence of the ancient vampire trying desperately to slip away.
A shriek tore out of the darkness as the miraculous sunlight in the dead of night ripped it apart, leaving nothing but faint traces of dust in the air when it blinked back out. The witch looked over her shoulder at the rooftop... and smiled.
She heard hob-nailed boots rapidly approaching, the familiar cadence of Eri hurrying towards her. Weary from blood loss, she stumbled as she turned, then threw herself into her wife’s arms, burying her face in the crook of her shoulder and squeezing her tight.
“I want to go home.”
((Written with, and with the permission of, the players of Runt, Mai, Penny, Eri, Cane, and other characters, with thanks!))
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests