The Aquila and the Rising Sun--The Imperium of Man Comes to Gensokyo

With communion established and instructions conveyed, Zee withdrew from the psychic network and returned her attentions to the here and now of the Materium. She moved to the side of the door opposite Arcturus, drawing her bolt pistol and chainsword. The Living Saint held her breath, tensed, ready to act.

Then her husband’s voice uttered a single word over the channel, and it began.

In perfect sync with Arcturus Zee kicked in the door, flared her wings and took to the air. The gymnasium was awash with the sounds of battle, the greenskins yowling in surprise and indignation as the other strike teams sprung their assaults. Closer at hand Arcturus had already felled three, though more were quickly converging on their position—chief amongst them a Nob with a brutish Morningstar, who leapt out from behind the seats to take a swing at her husband.

Zee clenched the activation rune of her chainsword, its teeth snarling in reflection of her anger. But before she could swoop down and come to Arcturus’ aid, a guttural alien voice bellowed a coarse challenge—and then five Stormboyz were hurtling through the air toward her, their ramshackle weapons spitting death.

The Living Saint narrowed her eyes and went into a shallow dip, the heat of their leader’s flamethrower raising goose pimples on the back of her neck from how close it had passed. The rest of them were firing as well, not at her but at Trogg and Flandre, and four of the grounded orks were adding their fire to the mix.

She had had just about enough of this.

“You call yourselves Blaze Squadron, ork?”

Her wings billowed as she executed a sudden stop and turn. Then they flapped once, propelling her straight at the squadron leader in a blur of crimson. Her chainsword howled, its length aglow with hallowed white light, and plunged deep into the greenskin’s gut, punching through armour and flesh to erupt from the small of its back.

She stared coldly into its eyes. “Then blaze.”

Her sword ignited, and sacred fire swept through the ork’s veins, reducing him to so much ash.

She swept her sword through a horizontal arc, and the flaming pieces of her victim’s armour flew through the air, pelting the remaining four members of “Blaze Squadron” with fiery shrapnel.

Arcturus didn't think, he reacted. Luckily the Nob hadn't appeared completely out of nowhere, the fact that it'd taken the time to jump a seat row had given the Inquisitor the time to anticipate the low swing, which he countered by simply hopping over it. He had to follow up before the Nob had time to react, but his bolt pistol was sub-optimal this close, and he didn't have enough time - or the space, for that matter to bring his sword to bear properly in between the seat rows.

So he went for the simplest option and shoulder-charged into his green assailant - the momentum of his power armour being sufficient to knock the alien down from whence he came.

As he affixed his bolt pistol to one of the magnetic surfaces of his armour and secured a two-handed grip on the venerable power sword, the Inquisitor almost half-chuckled through his vox-grille. It was a tired sound, but full of spite, disdain.

"Yes, ork. I do believe you're that stupid."

Then he turned his blade down, and leaped down on top of the ork - sword-point first - letting gravity do his job for him.

Ares was hardly the sort of blade to need much encouragement when it came to cutting things - if activated and simply left to lean against something, odds were that within an hour it would, under its own weight, have gouged out a respectable amount of centimetres of nearly any material one could name. (And if Arcturus had cared to recall, he would remember that he'd made this exact mistake a couple of times in his early career - which had been cause for much embarrassment and monetary expense.)

This taken into consideration, it was hardly surprising that while using his downward momentum for full effect, the Inquisitor carved through the stunned Nob from collarbone to groin, leaving a steaming, foul-smelling mess of a carcass, and splattering himself with a truly off-putting amount of blood. He supposed that there were sometimes advantages to having vampires in the retinue, they would at least not be averse to talking to him after such a spectacle.

Stepping off the freshly mangled corpse, Arcturus took note of the incoming Stormboys, and Zee's incineration thereof. He was of the opinion that fighting the rocket-clad orks was best approached as an advanced form of shooting skeet - simply filling the air with projectiles usually was enough to bring them down.

However, on witnessing his wife's handiwork, he had to admit - just burning them seemed to work too.

For Zee, that generally seemed to work for a lot of things.

He drew his bolt pistol and snapped off a hurried series of rounds at a couple of the creatures as he saw the survivors of the living saint's initial attack scatter and attempt to evade the burning shrapnel. Once these things had been cleared out, the Inquisitor could begin to turn his attention towards either the pitch, or towards any entry points that seemed to be struggling. He hoped the hostages weren't attracting too much attention, he'd do what he could to keep the fire off of them, if it came to that.

edited 8th Feb '15 7:07:43 PM by l3wt

Entrance A

Ehh?! Why us?!

Calm down, Jisen and keep firing. Remember, we still have Lady Remilia's crystals. Let's try putting it off using them until the last second.

Y-yes!

That said, Ichisen was having a hard time trying to fight in the current lighting conditions. Artificial sunlight did not hurt her like real sunlight did, but she was not well used to it either. That said, all the training they'd done had also included firing practise. The two rabbits held their cover by the door well and calmly fired off shots towards the incoming Orkz.

Entrance C

Remilia smiled in inappropriate serenity at seeing the Orkz painting the stands with their blood, mangled bodyparts being scattered across the gymnasium. The sight of the Shoota Nob taking one of her shots head-on made her giggle. Ah, yes, this was much better than any stealthy kill.

By folding her right wing and stretching out her left, she blocked the shots aimed at her and Sakuya, and someone who was very calmly taking measure might notice that the wings shrank a slight bit under the impact of the shots. Remilia did not seem to care overly much, however, and she stretched out the wings again to show her unscathed self. So, she'd attracted the attention of the Flash Git. Good, it was easier for all involved if he busied himself with her.

Sakuya, he's mine.

Understood, milady.

Remilia's wings beat once more, unleashing a series of magical clusters all aimed at the Flash Git. Unlike the previous barrage, however, these all curved slightly in the air to follow him, having been granted homing properties to make sure they did not hit the hostages. Meanwhile, Sakuya calmly took aim and started clearing out the Shootas that were trying to avenge their boss.

edited 9th Feb '15 3:19:54 PM by Lemurian

-Trogg swings at the first ork's stomach, grabbing its club and bashing its skull in. Vaguely aware of a drumming sensation on his own cranium, he turns to the second ork , he floors it with a backhanded smash. As the stormboyz' barrage begins, Trogg tries responding in kind, but after the clubs and their former owners are sent flying find himself out of options, trying to shield the qiztor's sister and yelling at the airborne xenos.-

GET ON GROUND SO TROGG CAN PUNCH YOU!

Flandre watched the flyboyz coming at her and Zee with a smirk on her face. She was glad that they were finally starting to send out bigger threats for them to put down. It was only a matter of time before they ran into the Boss, so she might as well enjoy herself. It was time to show the greenskins how aerial combat is really done. The younger of the scarlets bobbed and weaved between Ork fire as she pulled out a spell card.

Taboo: Four of a Kind

With the declaration of her spell card, three more Flandre's appeared, flanking the original. They were only together for an instant before the four of them scattered around the room. They each went to different corners of the round, zig-zagging around enemy fire. Two of the Flandres started to fire waves of danmaku at the flyboyz, while the other two dashed in to swipe at them with magically enhanced hands like they were claws. Their attacks were coordinated, and made sure to leave the leader for Zee.

Drake jogged along behind Corollianus, feeling oddly reassured by the man's orders and actions. It felt a lot like when he was carrying out exercises with his parent regiment. It was distinctly.... Guardsman-y. He stacked up behind Corollianus, feeling the tension of an incipient breach and clear like a coiled spring in his stomach.

That tension turned into adrenalin boosted energy as he followed the stormtrooper through the door, his Hotshot raised and a finger on the trigger. His first shots missed, but that was fine. Although he wasn't sure it applied to greenskins, forcing the enemy to keep their heads down was almost always the first order of business.

He snapped to face the Mad Dok as he appeared, a frown creasing his features as the Ork began rambling. Never mind - he just knew that things were entirely too strange here for his tastes, and as the most obvious source of potential strangeness the Mad Dok had to die first. Drake took aim and fired a burst at the comparatively thin and frail greenskin.

IGNORE

edited 21st Feb '15 12:57:33 PM by Flanker66

Assault Phase: Orkz

Gymnasium Entrance A: Drake

Ph HARGH, wot?!

The Mad Dok took the first shots of Drake's burst to the chest, then made a clumsy pirouette backward to avoid the rest. Smoke wafted from the blast mark and curled in the air. The Ork focused its attention on Drake with a slit-eyed look (magnified by its lens array).

Oi fot Oi TOLD yoo gits ta clear out da oomies! Slow-bonce gitz...

It flipped the syringe gun in its surprisingly dextrous hand, switched the vial locked in for one containing a clear fluid and oddly foggy glass, then fired a single shot at the young guardsman. If this projectile hit, it would go through his [flak/carapace] like a minnow through thin gelatin. A sharp pain would follow, and then...

Rolled a 3 on the Hallucinogenic Effects Table

Sssss SSSSSSSSSSS...

Drake would begin to feel mild lightheadedness, and to see both walls and floor begin to undulate, as if several somethings were moving just beneath the surface. There came a crackling tearing sound, and then the most hideous creature he had never seen before rose up from behind one of the seats.

It is a horrible beast of chitin and spines, knife-like claws and dagger teeth, blood-red eyes hungering for flesh to devour. While it is quite solid to the eye, it is also somewhat unreal, looking as though its monstrous flesh is made of shining malleable plastek. And yet it moves like no mere toy.

Hsssssssss HRREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

Suddenly, another tears its way out of the floor just three meters ahead, deadly claws flailing. Then another, on a lower level. Another wrenches a hole in the ceiling. Still another shreds apart a seat two meters to the left. It is quickly becoming apparent that they are everywhere!

If the round does -not- hit, it shatters behind Drake, releasing noxious fumes with a similar effect, though with reduced intensity of symptoms.

edited 3rd May '15 5:36:32 PM by Colonial1.1

Assault Phase: Orkz

Gymnasium Entrance A: Rabbits

Making not a sound, the injected greenskins approached, paying little heed to any obstacles in their path. Seats were knocked out of their spaces, guardrails were bent, and a few Shootaboyz found themselves becoming impromptu terrain. So distracted and enraged, the gun-wielding orkz redirected their fire.

OI! Gunz off me orderlees! Deyz damaged enuff alreddy!

The Mad Dok flipped its syringe pistol again, and then fired another two needles. Two Shootaboyz bonelessly toppled over onto the floor, snoring. The other greenskinz stopped to look at the sudden spectacle.

Oopz, rawng dozage! -under breath- Deyz sposed ta be ded now...

To Jisen and Ichisen's credit, their shots had struck home. Both orkz were slowing down, one with a smoking hole through its throat, and the other having lost the use of its left arm. The greenskins twitched once they came within four meters of the Gensokyoan women, proceeding to leap up a level of seats. Racing across the tops with a nimbleness atypical of the simian xenos, the pursuing brutes then flipped off the the upper level, both descending in an odd cartwheeling tackle.

Docking Bay Hall

It took a quick moment for Lieutenant Melaegur to compose himself before he could respond. There was undoubtedly something heretical at work here, but right now what remained of his squad was in no position to deal with it. Those still alive checked in shortly after the xenos hovertanks exploded.

"Five active, one wounded. You both have our thanks. The butcher's bill could have been higher. Now..."

The squad leveled their weapons at the space surrounding Indis, cutting off possible exit routes in multiple directions.

"Identify yourself, and your lords of employ. Do it, and we'll leave you alone, whoever and whatever you are."

"I am her bodyguard," Indis replied, pointing a slender finger at Futo. Honestly, he could have gutted these saps in two instants. Still, there was no need to at the moment.

"Hmm? Oh yes," Futo added, nodding. "He hath been at my side since our departure from Gensokyo. A most unique youkai." She chuckled a bit, as she sat down on the bulwark beside Indis. A more convenient explanation than youkai, neither Futo nor Indis were aware of.

With the entire ordeal now seemingly over, Futo felt refreshed. She stretched luxuriously as if to punctuate that.

"An arrangement most satisfactory thus far." She added at last, before turning serious. "Now my good fellow, art thou aware of the situation elsewhere in the station?"

edited 7th Mar '15 11:53:32 AM by joergenjetsam

Assault Phase: Orkz

Gymnasium Entrance A: Corollianus

Fighting Orkz was always a mix of the expected and difficult with the impossible to predict. Most often, this was not a good thing. Every once in a while, though, the greenskins' insanity and savagery would turn on them. Right now, both ways of Orkish "luck" were in action. Corollianus just wished they had settled with one.

The first two of the Sluggaboyz had gone down easily enough. The Stormtrooper's hellgun and the Rabbits' lasfire brought them crashing onto the floor like felled trees, their heads and torsos smoking. With the arrival of the rest, Corollianus crouched down as entered the stands. The circus which followed was leaving him somewhat bemused. Ork mind control? That was a new one.

He didn't stop to look at Drake when the Mad Dok shot at him, aiming instead for one of the distracted Shootaboyz and making a mess of its face. The other cottoned on and sent a spray of stubber rounds at him. He ducked behind a seat, waiting for the beast to reload as bits of burnt stuffing flew over his head.

"+Lycetta, status.+"

One of the many hallucinated beasts is flailing through a seat two feet to the right from Corollianus' position

Gymnasium Entrance B: Arcturus, Zelenin, Flandre, Trogg

The leader of Blayze Skwadron had just enough time to make a startled noise before he disintegrated into so many molten fragments of flesh and polymers.

Blayze Skwadron fell back, trying to get through their flighty brains what had just happened. They looked as if they were about to charge forward when two events happened simultaneously: first, fresh bolter fire from the Inquisitor flew up at them, disrupting their (already chaotic) flight formation. One of the greenskins took a blow to its jump-pack and began corkscrewing uncontrollably through the air, finally tackling Trogg amid a stream of expletives.

Second, Flandre's doppleganger-made assault caught them by complete surprise. Storms of magic bullets hammered the beasts backward in the air, while her melee strikes knocked weapons from the hands of two. The disarmed Orkz responded with a frenzy of whirling fists, using their jump-packs to augment every punch with speed.

The fourth (and biggest) still had its guns, a flechette clouder and 'blazer', and looked like it was about to run (being covered in smoking patches). Then something strange happened. Its head jerked upward, green light pulsing behind its flight goggles while its jaw worked silently. That happened over the course of two seconds. Then it swept its arms out, the flechette clouder pointing at Zee, the blazer pointed at Arcturus.

Oi! Come an' get me!

It released a roaring plume of blue flame towards the ground-bound Inquisitor, a brief burst of needles at Zee, then turned tail and throttled its jets, heading toward the Gymnasium's center. The center boiled with at least twenty-five (footslogging) Orkz.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!

At present, the greenskins did not seem to care about the masses of hostages scurrying along the walls (even though they were nearly halfway to safety). Why would they, after all, when there were so many bright lights and loud noises coming from three places at once? They charged through the fields and courts, several stumbling over numerous sporting implements where they lacked the presence of mind to leap or dodge. Those at the front had begun firing at Zee and Flandre, though, and wild as those shots were, they risked hitting the hostages. The elderly and the worst-damaged Mechanicus clergy straggled most, and they risked the greenskins catching up with them...

edited 22nd Mar '15 1:51:49 PM by Colonial1.1

Assault Phase: Orkz

Gymnasium Entrance C

The first shootaboy went down hard, toppling over backwards as its head sizzled. Its experimental beam weapon snarled as its ray sliced across the ceiling. The other, however, dodged behind a seat to avoid Sakuya's shot. It put a hand to its headgear and tapped a switch. Orkz do not whisper very well, but this one tried.

Boss! Da killy wingz on dat gurlie! Dey shrink wen ya shoot 'em!

From further afield, the Flashgit did not bother to do the same.

FINK OI DI'N'T SEE DAT, YA WORFLEZZ GROT?!

Like a green wave before the prow of a great warship, the Orkz nearby parted before Flashgit Boss Lodzateef's lumbering strides. At this point, the shootaboy tried its best to scramble away, zigzagging around the seats.

TAKE DA TOLL WUN IF YOO WANTZ, DA RED WUN'Z MOINE!

Remilia's wave of curving fire launched, hurtling towards the Flashgit. Lodzateef responded with a simian grin, and brought his arms level with his shoulders, fists pointing up at an angle. Every single weapon on the Nob's arms and chest ratcheted up from their compartments, all pointing at the same general space.

LODZATEEF, LODZA DAKKA!!!

Over a dozen guns on a single egomaniacal platform roared, chattered, and screamed at the exact same time. The air in that direction became one hundred parts lead or plasma in places, thoroughly solid or in a state of matter more commonly found close to stars. Stubber rounds, bolter shot, lasfire, plasma, and enamel all crashed into and past the cloud of danmaku as a solid wave of ballistic counterpoint.

GRAAAAHAHAHAHARHARRR, 'OW D'YA LOIKE DAT LODDA FLASH, GURLIE?! DA'S DA POWAH UF TEEF, DAT IZ! ZOGGIN' BOOTIFUL! GOT ENYFING TA SAY TA DAT, NO CORSE YA DON'T, YOOZ DED! WAAAAAAAARGH, LODZATEEF!

The Boyz, who had stopped to watch in awe, joined the Flashgit in their cry, while loosing their own shots on (where they thought was) the maid's position.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!

edited 7th Mar '15 10:29:15 PM by Colonial1.1

Docking Bay Hall

"...Right. I'm gonna have to request that specific type put in writing before either of you leave this station. For now..."

Only the Lieutenant lowered his gun. His troops remained fixed on Indis.

He brought a lightly chipped and small hololith projector out from its covering in the rubble, reattached the power cord, muttered the necessary rite, and then hit the power button with what was likely more force than necessary. The machine booted up with a whirring hum, while the Lieutenant plugged the vox and auspex machines into it. A column of flickering white-grey light rose from the hololith emitter before it coalesced into a more solid shape, that of Persepolis. It was grainy and twitched from time to time, but the image displayed what it needed to.

Yellow lights pulsed here and there just below the great mushroom bell of the station, and leading into it. Most of them were spread in concentrations of four to eight, though one higher up in the station numbered twelve. A pair of white lights pulsed near the latter of these, dimmer (and more vaguely defined) concentrations of the same appearing in large chambers at the center and top of the bell. Glowing red marks appeared also, many based around the concentrations of white marks, while others pulsed more radiantly near the yellow lights. A cluster of black dots numbering about eleven (with two more located elsewhere in the station) shifted at the outliers of that large central chamber.

Lieutenant Melaegur pointed at a cluster of seven yellow lights near a green, smudgy eagle, next to two smudgy question marks.

"That's us, you, and our command post."

He pointed to the red marks.

"These are the greenskins."

To the white lights.

"These are the hostages we've confirmed so far."

Finally, he pointed to the black.

"These are Inquisitors and their retinue."

He brought his armoured finger back to point at the mixed concentrations of red and yellow, most on the outer edges of the station below the bell.

"We're trying to take out more docking positions so that we can get more men in here. Gonna start with more Stormtroopers, then Guardsmen once we've got enough doors open. The three positions closest to us rightward down that corridor..."

He traced the route with his finger out from the squad's position.

"...Are not yet accounted for. We know they're missing their foul machines, but we don't know what forces they have left in the bays themselves. The men I've got committed can't disengage right now. You and your colorful friend, though..."

"My colourful friend and I, are perfectly content to remain sitting here," Futo replied, crossing her legs. "Hast thou the right to force us? Civilians?"

"Yes," Indis remarked. "They do, in fact, possess that power."

"Ah. Well, the authority of Inquisitor Scarlet doth supersede that of these good fellows, no?"

"True," the eldar conceded. "However, they might twist this in such a way so as to force us whilst still obeying the orders given by Lady Scarlet from a technical standpoint."

"Oh. How unfortunate. And how utterly lacking in respect for the authority of the Inquisition. The gall."

-Taking the flyboy in the chest, Trogg is catapulted backwards, grappling with the ork until their flight is interrupted by a wall, leaving a ogryn-shaped dent and an ork-colored splatter. During the undignified brawl, Trogg's fist has entangled itself in the crude jetpack, the vibrations shaking the greenskin's corpse free from the restraints.-

TROGG AM PUNCH EVERY ORK FLAT!

-The ogryn heads for the mass of orks, getting a running start in spite of his jet-assisted fist occasionally pulling him in the wrong direction or striking him upside the head.-

Docking Bay Hallway

Melaegur drums his fingers on the hololith projector for a moment, looking away from the odd pair, then clicks his tongue.

"It's true, we can't contravene the Inquisitor's word. The Rosette proves it. That said..."

His helmet swivels around to face Futo. Did his visor just gleam?

"I hear one of the worst things you can subject a citizen of Gensokyo to is boredom."

Gymnasium: Trogg

The Ogryn's charge was easy to see coming. That he had an uncooperative jet booster attached to one arm just made him even more interesting. Six of the greenskins rushed towards him specifically, one wielding a great mallet in its metal klaws as it dove at him. That one was the first to receive a jet-boosted punch to the face, and fell back laughing onto a tennis pitch nearby. The rest abandoned their guns for their fists and choppas, and with the war cry of their race, they all leapt at Trogg.

Arcturus broke off to the side dashing, then flung himself to the floor to avoid the gout of blue flame. He could feel the increase in temperature even through his armour. He briefly noted how the fire melted through steel and polymers and fabric alike as the seat row behind where he'd been standing was obliterated, and little proxy fire broke out.

He got the distinct sensation getting caught by that would not be particularly conducive to a long and productive life.

As he rolled onto his back and ran his pistol dry at the ork in retaliation, he had the sinking feeling something was very off with that greenskin.

"The twitchy one! KILL IT! NOW!"

They couldn't waste much more time with this sideshow, they needed to get those hostages to safety before they could get bogged down with any harder targets.

"Iwis for some," Futo replied, nodding and smiling. "It doth not apply to all, however. I assure thee, sirrah, I will merely continue my resolve to sit here."

She sat there a few moments, tapping her chin and trying to recall whether she had forgotten something.

"Ah, gramercies for thine aid." She added cheerfully.

Having seemingly no more to say, she crossed her legs and assumed a lotus position. Indis too, did not move from where he sat.

The two were honestly quite content with sitting there like this. Getting involved in fight after fight did not suit either.

The sudden emerald light flaring behind the greenskin’s goggles did not escape Zee’s notice. Neither did the way it jerked and spasmed in midair for but the briefest of moments, its mouth working silently as if caught in the grip of a grand seizure. Either one of these was damned unusual for an Ork; together, they were alarming.

It almost seemed possessed…

Then its weapons came up, and the Living Saint was forced into a swerving turn to evade the cloud of flechettes hurtling her way. Her quick maneuver let her escape most of the spray, but not all; she grit her teeth and hissed as slivers of pain flared up along her wing, jagged shards of metal burying themselves amidst the feathers.

Sloppy, Zee, she admonished herself. Shape up.

The pain, though irritating and distracting, was nothing she couldn’t overcome. She righted herself, just as Arcturus cried out to target the very same greenskin.

“On it!” Zee gave her wings a single powerful flap and rocketed after the ork, chainsword purring in her grasp. There was still some distance between them, so she brought up her bolt pistol and squeezed off a pair of shots at the greenskin’s rocket pods in the hopes of knocking it out of the air—or at least slow it down until she could close to melee range.

-The first ork has its skull disintegrated on impact with Trogg's fist, while the second gets nothing more than a light tap, as the jetpack continues its haphazard redirecting. As Trogg winds up for another punch that will remove an onrushing ork, it sputters and dies before roaring back to life, a second too late to prevent a choppa from digging into his good arm but going through the attacker's ribcage.-

The Flashgit's barrage cancelled out Remilia's clusters, and the air between them erupted in a shower of bright and colourful lights as munitions and projectiles collided with offensive and explosive magic. However, in quantity, Remilia had to concede that the Flashgit's seemingly endless barrage had the advantage. She brought her wings together in front of her, shielding her from the barrage and blocking off visual contact with the rest of the gymnasium. The last thing she noticed before a massive scarlet wing passed into her sight was the movement as the drugged Orkz attacked Ichisen and Jisen.

They're coming!

Leave this one to me.

Ichisen had already holstered her gun and reached into one of her pouches and taken out what looked like a small red rough gemstone. The crystallized magic did not look very impressive; properly cut it could have made a brooch or a modest centrepiece of a tiara or similar. However, the crystal contained a well of Inquisitor Scarlet's magic, enough to power a full Spell Card if it was used by Lady Scarlet herself.

The theory behind crystallized magic was simple. With enough power, magic energy could be given physical form and be shaped according to the creator's wishes. However, the process was inefficient when it came to later use of the powers. The power necessary to craft one was greater than what the crystal would hold. But when the craftsman was a being of such incredible magical strength as the Vampire Lady Remilia Scarlet, even a simple Moon Rabbit could borrow terrifying power.

The stone shattered in Ichisen's hand as she took that power into herself.

Everything around Ichisen went quiet. The super senses of the vampire made the world slow down, and Ichisen became aware of every single beating heart in the Gymnasium. A savage grin crossed her face, eyes glowing red with the savage power that filled every fibre of her body. Every aortic beat chimed in her ears, the rush of blood enticing her...she repressed it and forced her glowing eyes to focus on the drugged Orkz. They fell slowly through the air, their acrobatic manoeuvre easily analysed.

Scarlet magic rushed through her body, and Ichisen channelled it into her hands. She raised her left hand in a mocking finger pistol, reminiscent of her mother's own technique. Her arm moved slowly, her muscles and nervous system straining to keep up with the orders coming from her brain. But instead of a magic bullet, it was a ferocious spear-size bolt that erupted from the tips of her Ichisen's fingers and screeched through the air to carve a vicious hole in the first Ork's body. Immediately, Ichisen rushed in, a scarlet crescent blade of magic covering her lower arm. A second after the spear had pierced its partner, the second Ork was neatly cut in half by the magic sword and no amount of Orky magic or mad medicine could keep it from painting the Gymnasium bleachers with the blood of its inner organs. Ichisen landed lightly further down, preparing for an assault on the Mad Dok himself.

Meanwhile, Remilia's shield was slowly but surely battered down in size. It was hard to make out the details through the smoke and flash of gunfire and magic, but the looming spectacle of glowing wings was visibly shrinking. In the end, when the barrage started to die down, the makeshift shield was but the size of a single normal bat...but the vampire was nowhere to be seen.

My, the older sister seems to be adapting quite nicely. Even I find myself wondering what my pupil will do next.

The voice came from behind Flashgit Lodzateef, but by the time he tried to react, he would find himself enveloped by thick chains of magical metal. Most noticeably was a heavy padlock that hung from his neck and dangled in front of her heart.

Destiny: Fate Sealing Chains.

The single scarlet magic bat hanging in the air stooped down from the top of the bleachers, making a beeline for the lock on the Flashgit's chest. Upon contact, the magical missile would cause a chain reaction and make the Flashgit the centre of a concentrated explosion as all the magic power in the chain bathed him in flames of destruction. Remilia looked up into the eyes of the Ork.

Don't worry, I will make sure your passing is...flashy.

Sakuya had in the meantime taken advantage of the confusion brought on by the duel between her mistress and the Ork, and quickly repositioned to a flanking position above the remaining Shootaboys. Quietly, she readied both her rifle...and the Luna Dial. For a brief moment, she paused time. The world stood still as she calmly aligned her sights with the head of the Eckspereementol Shootaboy...then she resumed time and fired off one shot. However, she was not done yet. In the fraction of a second just after the shot went off, she paused time again and repeated the process with one of the Sluggaboyz. And one more time.

However, after the fourth shot, she had to stop to allow the weapon and the Luna Dial to cool down.

Ichisen stood still, watching the Dok and the other Orkz for a few seconds while making a plan. Lady Scarlet's instructions still echoed in her mind. Efficiency, but generosity was the key to getting the most out of the overflow of magical power. Holding back and sticking to what she knew, while still using enough magic power to keep it from overloading her systems. And although the magic power had come from Lady Scarlet, it was Ichisen's now and it was best if she used it in the forms she was used to.

She held up a Spell Card, filling it to the brim with borrowed magical power.

Scarlet Moonlight Sign: Éclair de Lune!

A perfect sphere of pale red magic appeared in front of Ichisen, hovering peacefully between her hands. And then, with lightning speed, a bolt of magic flashed through the air towards the Mad Dok.

edited 11th Mar '15 1:57:45 PM by Lemurian

Assault Phase: Orkz

Gymnasium Entrance B: Arcturus, Zelenin

GWARHARHARHARHAR-AGH! OW!

The twitchy flyboy dodged and barrel-rolled around Arcturus's stream of fire, until a pair of shots caught their mark. Blood spattered from the greenskin's gut, the wounds painful enough to make the beast's flying wobbly. Then Zee's bolt struck home. The ork plunged into the greenskin band's midst with a pained grunt, smoke puffing gently from one of its rocket pods. Then the greenskin got to its feet with a single controlled jet of the rockets. It rolled its head on its neck with a loud pop and crackle (that somehow resonated over Lodzateef's gunfire). The air hazed a faintly greenish hue as the flyboy went into a fighting stance either Inquisitor might find familiar (albeit in a strangely jerky fashion for just a moment before straightening out).

Roight den! BOYYYYZ, LETZ 'AVE US UH Fl OYIN' LESSON!

The flyboy leapt, boosted by both thrusters... and so too did every one of the twenty five orkz around it. Fists pumping, crude axes chopping the air, the greenskins bounded upward to an impossible height, all haphazardly focused on a single point: Zee.

Arcturus rapidly evaluated his options to support Zee, and found that his preferred fighting methods were coming up short.

There were simply far too many greenskins bearing down on the Living Saint for him to actually shoot at. Lightning was out of the question, he would barely be producing sparks after the display for the hostages... Unless he were to try and sacrifice his mind and body to draw more power from the Warp.

That would be a last way out - not only would it kill him, it would also mark his collapsing mind like a beacon for the spawn of the Dark Gods - something dreadful would use him as a gateway to the Materium, Emperor only knows how powerful.

Perhaps the Harvester, even. Damn his eyes, that would be an ignoble and pitiful end.

But even if he did not have sufficient firepower, or the strength of mind required to begin swatting greenskins from the skies, the Inquisitor still had... another option. Other reserves to draw on.

Even if it required making use of arts in which he could still only be considered something of a dabbler.

"Inquisition Sign..."

The Inquisitor's arms tingled with gathering energy. The nature and composition of it was perhaps unrefined, but it did not carry the taint of the Warp... but it was power, still surging even with little practice... and it was enough for what he had in mind.

"Degrees Of Guilt!"

He released the spell into the midst of the oncoming horde, an unstable, glowing orb that recursively divided into smaller, but still potent projectiles mid-flight. Hopefully it'd help scatter the beasts and take some of the heat off Zee.

The Living Saint braced herself in midair, ready to meet the greenskin as it took to the sky once more… until the impossible happened.

Her eyes went wide in stunned disbelief, her expression one of angry shock as every single ork in the pack that the stormboy had landed in jumped dozens of feet into the air right alongside it, unsupported by any machinery and in flagrant defiance of the skyhook’s artificial gravity.

As her lips parted, face twisting into a mask of irate bewilderment, a single thought went through Zee’s mind:

What.

Then the reality of the situation reasserted itself, and her mind overcame the absurdity that was twenty-five orks leaping through the air like oversized clodhoppers to realize that twenty-five orks were leaping through the air like oversized clodhoppers straight at her.

The Living Saint climbed with a flap of her wings, propelling herself up and backward in an attempt to take herself out of the greenskins’ arcing path. As she did this, she heard a familiar voice cry out, and saw orbs of wavering light spring into being in the orks’ midst.

She knew those lights, recognized what they were.

Her mind brushed against her husband’s briefly, conveying a simple but profound sentiment: gratitude and thanks.

Then she brought her bolt pistol up once more and began firing into the horde. With this many of them clumped together so unnaturally, there was no way she could miss, but even so she aimed. The green tide was but a distraction, a shield separating her from the true threat that was the possessed stormboy.

And it was possessed. There was no further doubt about that in her mind now.