There was a moment of silence as the two took in this information. Then Trish shrugged, as if someone had just told her she'd left her lights on.
"Whatever. I got nothing to hide. And no, more along the lines of a demon made to look like his mom. It's complicated."
Then she turned back to Yuugi.
"Anyway, I guess I can handle my beer. Why, do demons fight with drinking competitions in your world?"
Meanwhile, Dante walked over to Satori, shaking his head.
"Wow, ok, so that's a thing. Now, me, I don't really mind, I don't really have any deep, dark secrets or anything to hide. I'm an open kind of guy. But, that ain't gonna be the case for everyone, I know for a fact a few people I know would react less then happily to learning you read their mind without warning."
Were Satori to look into his head, she would see various imagined images of a very angry looking woman with a rocket launcher and assorted other guns shooting her and blowing her up in various ways.
"So, maybe you wanna not do that, or at least ask first? I mean, think about it, it's kinda rude to just read someone's mind without any warning, it's like if you just popped open someone diary, only way worse. You don't seem like you're evil or anything, so I'd hate to see you get shot over a misunderstanding or something."
One Brunch Man
Ikebukuro General Hospital
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, generated and maintained solely by the word 'depart.' "...you must think I was born yesterday." The voice came through at last. "Oh wait, you fuckers are probably grown in vats, so for all I know, you do. 'Go through with the thing that's holding us hostage, and we'll do what you want anyway'? What do you take me for?"
"You're in my house now, compadre, and these ailing guys and gals are the only things keeping you from getting crucifixed by the Ikebukuro special ops teams honed in on this place like a kitty cat chasing a laser dot. How about this, you want out so bad, I'll give it to you— on the ground. Through the front door. And I'll personally hold it open for you, just to make sure I can slam it on your ass on the way out."
Ikebukuro General Hospital—Fourth Floor Hallway
Lee's diligence would be rewarded; as he and Hoshigawa (who appeared to be the real deal, as far as Lee would be able to tell) continued down the hall, the angle would give Lee a slight angle on the man's face.
"You are not a doctor," Hoshigawa continued brusquely as they continued down the hall, "but I am sure you can appreciate what happens to an organism when its head is cut off." His shaking hand stilled long enough to flip over the next page on his clipboard, and his eyes speedily roved over the text. "I cannot leave here. The Imperials roam these halls because I invited them here without bloodshed; if they hold me hostage, it is because it allows me to run this hospital as I see fit. Give your 'boss' my regards, and kindly ask him to stop destroying my building before he knocks out something important."
If I had that kind of power, I'd have dropped a meteor on your house ages ago~
Common Room
Madoka wasn’t one to deny Sylvia’s offer of comfort. She looked back up at her as the woman placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Uh, well, that does sound really nice, yeah. Maybe you could try once the Empire is defeated and everyone is safe - I’m sure the City Council would appreciate the offer.” After a moment of silence to let everything settle, Madoka got a look of confusion on her face as she looked back at Sylvia: “‘Pizza Batt’? Is that really a construction company?”
Industrial Area - Echo Sector
There were, in fact, still a couple of Imperial shuttles left unmanned this whole time, as discovered by Mami - it would take a few minutes for the others to gather around and look inside for an initial assessment of how likely it was that it was still space-worthy. “This one might still work.”
“If we can figure out how to operate it,” Homura replied. “In thirty minutes.”
Mami turned her head to Homura with a somewhat tired look. “Believe me when I say that we appreciate your mind for time, Akemi-san.”
“I am simply reminding what constraints we have to work under if this is to succeed.” Homura walked up to the cockpit to get an idea as to how much chance they had of getting this thing in the air - she privately suspected “zero”, but the opportunity was there, may as well see what chance they had. Longer shots had been made two days ago.
To the Fire Control Room
<This is my only means of communication,> Kyubey stated simply to just Wolverine even as he allowed the younger members of the Red Guard a bit of enjoyment at his presence
◊ before they reached the Fire Control Room. <But if you desire for me not to intrude further, I will respect that request.> He seemed to notice the apparent skepticism at their presence from several others, but so long as they didn’t directly approach him or Sayaka about it he simply put it aside in favor of the fight ahead...
...Which Grand Moff Tarkin’s declaration as soon as they entered put front and center. Sayaka had been hanging back a bit and so only saw some part of the quick work that was done by Celty, but the ultimatum had brought her out front and center, pointing her sword at the lightning column: “Hell no! If you think I’m gonna abandon my friends now, your head needs to be examined!” Seeing the Red Guard get right to action was enough to inspire Sayaka into following, dashing straight towards the lightning column. Kyubey was able to get one piece of advice off to Sayaka before his charge charged away: <There may be enemies in hiding waiting to fire - you may need to either find or avoid them.>
“Got it!” Where the walkway no longer led her towards her target, she made her own by leaping off the edge and summoning temporary blue circles to leap to the next one that would, up to three before needing to land on something solid (assuming she had the time and space to do so - those lasers looked rather painful, she had to admit). If she came under fire but was fortunate enough to be on a walkway, Sayaka would have to rely on her speed (and a bit of luck) to avoid the initial shots before she could summon a cutlass out of thin air to return fire with something more solid.
Kyubey, having no such ability to leap across such large gaps, was mainly limited to taking existing walkways as he made his way towards the nearest console, stopping for a moment to look up at what might be displayed.
"Not just drinking, competition in general," Yuugi said to Trish, "You can challenge an oni to just about anything; if they're worth their salt, they'll accept, even if they think they could lose! I'd introduce you to the sport of danmaku instead of drinking, but I'd prefer it'd be something less violent."
Utsuho leaned in and said "I showed her that, actually! It didn't go...well, I almost might've killed her, and all we did was fly, but it was still a good show from her! Great sportsmanship!"
"Definitely too violent. Oni don't like it too much, anyway. Now, let me be honest here: I don't expect you to win. There's been one woman in the whole course of history who's been able to beat me, and she ain't down there right now. What I expect you to do is to accept the challenge, showboat in front of the crowd a little, talk big, and then last long enough against me to win over the crowd."
She raised a hand level to her face. "On one hand, they'll think you're ballsy and a good soul, if you drink with someone like me. It'll be a one-way ticket to their hearts. On the other hand, losing will make you look weaker than them, and that's what we need right now. You look non-threatening and likeable, they'll listen to you for long enough to get your peace out. Just...hope you're good at delivering speeches while smashed, alright?"
In love with an Uptown Girl
The Horseman and the Shamans - Castlevania
Death grunted at the two human servants. He eyed them with a cold expression. He didn't care for such luxuries. Even when he was with his other Horsemen, none of them had taken a human on as a servant. Conquest, however, would sometimes take in a small child, especially after the Horsemen massacred some pilgrims., and raise it. That was how the Prophet Orion had come to be the law in Armistice.
Wolf and Crow stepped forward and introduced themselves. Death watched them do so, his metal steed next to him. However, his mind was drifting off to other things. He wondered what Xiaolian was up to.
New Shanghai
Having thought about it, Premier Mao Xiaolian was in the process of preparing to greet the new arrivals soon. She wanted allies, and she would be reviewing each one for their potential.
The Widowmakers were already moving, and those who were abandoned by the other chunks, the downtrodden, the rejected, would be welcomed here, to become Widowmakers in waiting. It was what her father had done, and what she would do.
Please allow me to introduce myself, I am a man of wealth and taste. Nice to meet you, hope you can guess my name.
"Party life?" Asriel hesitated. "Uh...I'm not sure about...I mean, I am twelve, so-"
At this point, Yuugi got called away by Utsuho. He nodded politely as she excused herself and headed off. Mostly, he was grateful to get a little longer to think. Even Flowey, for all the dark impulses he'd obeyed, hadn't really seen anything like a nightclub one could really let loose and party in. Maybe there was one in the capital someplace.
In the meantime, he may as well find someone else to make first contact with. Maybe that pink haired teenage girl, or... oh, hey! What about that little blonde girl, off drawing in the corner? From this distance, he couldn't quite tell how old she was, but she certainly seemed closer to his age group. If Yuugi was looking his way, Asriel quickly pointed at himself and the girl to say that he was heading off for a moment. Then he started discreetly sidling over, hoping to maybe get to know the kid.
Asgore, too, was relieved to find a king who valued peace, love and understanding above all else (allegedly, anyway). As they got down to matters of business, Asgore told Magnus of his arrival a day ago, and his conversations with the representatives of Zi-Jin Cheng, Castlevania and the Bamboo Forest, not to mention the guests from Hell's Gate Tokyo.
When the questions turned to relief aid, Asgore replied "Thank you for the offer, but there's not much to be done, relatively speaking. The only locations severely damaged by combat were a holiday resort and my own garden. Oh, and a hole in the roof of the cave, but my people might be grateful for the new sunroof..." He sighed sadly. "There were some casualties, of course. It was unfortunately inevitable, but there were fairly few and, to my knowledge, no fatalities. I'd propose aid on that front, but I'm not sure if your doctors would have adequate knowledge of monster physiology."
This topic aside, Asgore was interested to hear about Genosha's relationship with other lands, and very pleased to hear talk of an alliance being forged. Another big step closer to world peace, it seemed. Finally, he was delighted to receive an invitation to the wedding of Kitana and Pietro. "Oh, I'd be more than happy to come. Nothing quite like a good wedding, after all."
He made to get up. "Well, it was a pleasure to speak with you, King Magnus, and I hope to do so again soon. Perhaps at your son's wedding tomorrow, eh? But, I'm afraid I should probably head back home again. Wouldn't want my own son worrying after me, let alone my citizens."
edited 23rd Mar '17 5:09:13 AM by LizardOfAus
Vampire Hunter
Death, Castlevania
"The way I see it, Horseman," The Reaper began after a long silence among the group. "I have not wronged you, and you have not wronged me."
"At the moment, we have no reason to fight each other, but do know that the Cure is going to be pushing the various lands here to fight and that there is a shapeshifting demon who will likely try to cause chaos for your land," The Reaper continued explaining, holding his hands in a sympathetic way. "You should probably go back home to your wife, but if you wish to talk again, just send one of your messengers here, and if I wish to talk to you again, I shall one of mine."
Grant, Common Room
"'Harsh my buzz'?" Grant turned to Hal, completely dumbfounded at that statement. "The heck's that mean?"
When Nero mentioned what Death (The Reaper, not the Horseman) said and mentioned Sypha by name, Grant smiled and hit his fist into his hand.
"I knew it!" Grant looked quite pleased with himself now. "You've seen Sypha!"
"Name's Grant Danasty," Grant introduced himself to Nero as well as to Hal Jordan and Kilowog. "I'm a..."
Grant remembered that Hal and Kilowog were space police and reconsidered what he was a about to say.
"I'm a friend of Sypha's," Grant glanced over at Trish, shaking his head... How did these two pretty boys get such a babe working with them?
Trevor, Death Star Fire Control
Trevor seemed to accept Sayaka's 'Magical Girl' explanation. Apparently she was a student witch and her familiar. If there were more time and didn't already allow the ten-year-old Robin in their group already, he would argue against letting her join them. Naturally, they need all the help they could get.
"We've seen how you treat your very own soldiers, Tarkin!" Trevor began as he started traversing the walkways, finally pulling out the Vampire Killer. "In your effort to eliminate us, you were completely willing to fling them all into space!"
"None of your soldiers deserve that, but you, Tarkin, certainly do!" Trevor continued his march on the walkways, keeping an eye out just in case they collapsed and he had to use the Vampire Killer to grab onto something and swing to a new platform. "May God have mercy on your soul!"
Wizard Needs Food Badly
"..." Mulling the words over, Baron glanced down at his now practically throbbing arm- the tumescent limb looking like it was a beating heart rather than an appendage considering how angry and red the veins snaking through the pale flesh had turned. Ever so slowly, a smile that was as keen as a razor and colder than arctic ice bloomed on the man's face, a grim expression that was more predatory than mirthful. "We have a deal then, I shall fight the evil you've brought into this playroom of yours so that I may be rid of my own demon."
The Ghost Arm continued to try to influence the man and bring him to madness to thwart his resolve... but sadly the road he chose was the one that sought to distance him as far away from the dark temptation as possible and clinched the great seal down upon the parasite to the point there was nothing the God of Destruction could do after the initial tantrum. "How wonderful, a way out of this cursed existence before my very nose... a most splendid carrot indeed!" Laughing uproariously despite the great pain caused by Kazan, Baron found the flower of hope blooming forth from his tempered mind.
The Grand Re-Vizier
If anyone could somehow manage to make a scowl look both sheepish and irritated by his own regret at the same time, it was Damian Wayne. Or perhaps the boy only had a limited number of facial expressions, and 'angry scowl' was just the closest he could manage to looking properly chastened and ashamed. In fact, emotions like 'shame' and 'guilt' and were fairly foreign to the current Boy Wonder.
If he was asked to categorize his feelings at the moment, not something he was generally prone to doing, he would probably describe such an emotion as 'extreme annoyance that you're judging me with your troglodytic system of morality' instead. Nevertheless, the uncomfortable internal squirming feeling was quite effective, at least after Celty's nudge cut him off from the possibility of a second blow-up after Rogue's mockery. Instead he switched from angry scowling to angry sulking.
"Fine, go ahead and rescue the cretinous expendables. Killing so many pathetic people would probably leave a bad taste in my mouth anyway."
He started stomp-walking over to Tarkin's apparent location, making the most of his armored boots in order to express his intense displeasure at being non-verbally chided. Though he did actually peek down under the overhang to check on the trooper's he'd knocked out when he thought no one would notice before moving on.
The Boy Wonder paused in mid-sulky stomping toward Tarkin for just a moment as the full force of Trevor's heroic monologue hit him.
"Really, Belmont? We're storming a space station, not an amateur theater's production of Hamlet."
Jason made his way across the walkway, keeping alert in case there was any sign of ambush. He was actually pretty glad that Batman hadn't come along with him. In all likelihood, Bruce probably would've gotten himself killed trying to save the old man from dying in the laser hallway with some last-minute altruistic bullshit. He probably would've succeeded too, that'd be just like Mister-Always-Perfect.
Either way, Red Hood was looking forward to taking out his frustrations by shooting Tarkin in the face. To speed the process along, he shot two grapnel guns to either side of him a little ways out, then used them to slingshot himself forward at high speed.
Nero's counter-reasoning made Hal stutter. "I mean, I guess." He said, doing his best half-shrug. "I guess it makes sense when you put it like that. No, no.. wait. There's gotta be a reason behind all of this! It makes no sense for there to be no reason."
Kilowog looked at Hal, rubbing his chin. "Everybody does something for a reason, Jordan, but sometimes that reason is just really, really dumb."
"Have we ever met a super powerful alien who didn't have some kind of master plan?"
"No, but then again ten minutes ago we didn't think the ol' poozer back there-" He jabbed a thumb in the Cure's direction. "-existed, now did we?"
Hal crossed his arms and scowled, mumbling something inaudible to himself. "So what? Are we just going to be on this patchwork planet until... until what? Until there's only one left? It sounds to me like exactly the kind of plan you'd hide from your victims by pretending to be something you're not!"
He looked back at Nero. "Back home, we call this the insanity plea. Claim you're just crazy and have no reason behind your actions. But the thing is, nobody wakes up one day and decides to kidnap thousands and thousands of people from across the multiverse. Even if it only makes sense in his head, something made him do it. Or do you really think we're all here because of a coincidence?"
Did you know this section has a character limit?
Bond - You Know, Even Bond Villains Install Railings; Death Star Laser Team
Bond could only really stare as the little kid in the superhero suit knocked several men to their deaths. And then the motorcyclist saved them with shadow magic.
...honestly, this was all becoming a bit too... normal. It just didn't feel strange to him anymore. Of course the preteen is psychotic, of course the headless woman had shadow magic.
Dear lord, this was only the second day.
Instead of following the Mutants and the rest of the group at running speed, Bond took off at a leisurely jog. Tripping and falling to his death was not the way her wanted to go.
Jaune - A Victim of Bashing, Death Star Throne Room
Vader's pull tore the gun from Jaune's grasp, despite his strength. Well, not all the gun: the grip was still in Jaune's hand, but the trigger wasn't exactly working anymore.
Typical imperial engineering, always lowest-bidder.
Jaune dropped what was left of the gun just before the earthquake hit. He stumbled for a second, thankful Vader hadn't taken the opportunity to attack him more, as he struggled to regain his footing.
With his footing compromised, he knew that a sword blow wouldn't do much. If his bodyguards were armoured, so would he be. He'd have to hit a joint to do damage, and that would mean precise aiming. Which was impossible mid-stumble.
So, instead, Jaune smashed his shield towards Vader's head. That barely needed aiming: both shield and head were quite large.
I really should blade the edges. Jaune thought. If I get out of here.
Four Students Walk Into A Common Room - The Common Room
Out of the Genosha Portal emerged Yang
, Blake
◊, Ren
and Nora
◊, along with Yang's motorcycle. They looked over the assembled crowd in the room, not really paying them much heed as only Ruby was getting constant updates on who was arriving. They simply assumed they were just people they hadn't seen before. Instead, the quartet made a beeline for the Cure.
"Hey. Big, Red and-" Yang stopped herself, realising she probably shouldn't call him "Ugly" to his face. "...big. We've held up our end of the bargain. You gonna hand out the wishes now, or are you gonna ask us for more?"
"Yang." Blake sighed.
"Because we're still up for more! Send whatever you want, and we'll take it down!"
"Nora." Ren sighed.
Ruby's Delivery Service - Ikebukuro Sniper Nest -> Towards Raira Academy
"Wolves?" Ruby said, unclipping her coat from her dress, and handing it to Sloan. "Beowulves are one of the easiest kinds of Grimm to fight. They're only dangerous in packs."
She pulled the waterproof jacket on, and found it to be unsuited to her needs. She couldn't reach around and place Crescent Rose in it's holster with it on, and even then the size of it would distend the jacket too much. Instead, her nearly-completely black clothes beneath the cloak would have to do.
She grabbed Sloan's package with one hand, and held Crescent Rose
with the other, before walking over to the window... and hopping straight of it. She fell for just a moment before she spun her sniper rifle around in her hand. The weapon appeared to come apart: the handle folded into the stock, which extended itself into a spear-tip, while the barrel shroud hinged away from the barrel. But the sniper rifle soon stopped looking like it was falling apart, and more like it had become something else.
A scythe.
Halfway down the building, Ruby planted her blade into the concrete facade with a soft shunk, braking her fall. She shifted her downward momentum into a twirl around the pole, and arrested it by planting both feet on the wall, propping herself between handle and wall, above the blade.
Without even taking a moment's break, she kicked off from the wall, dislodging her blade along with her. As she fell the final length to the ground, she spun her scythe once more, returning it to it's compact form and it's holster on the small of her back.
She landed on three points, Sloan's package still tucked under her right arm, on the grass separating Sloan's sniper nest and the school, before bursting forward in a bright red streak of rose petals, with discarded petals left floating in her wake.
Like I said before: Ruby Rose was not a stealth build.
edited 26th Mar '17 12:28:23 AM by GeekCodeRed
They do have medals for almost, and they're called silver!
One Brunch Man
Death Star Firing Control
Celty shook her stump back and forth as Damien stomped away, her fingers working the air like pulley controls as she pulled the Storm Troopers up to dangle more-or-less in a line, only some feet from the bottom of their respective walkways.
Pressing her hands out as she solidified the structures and guaranteed their (if not destroyed by other means) permanence, she was then able to focus on the horrified hollering echoing up and down the space like a pack of howling coyotes. Reaching up to awkwardly scratch the side of her neck, Celty slid out her phone and swiftly typed out a message before showing it to Elphelt. Could you please tell them that I'll let them down backspace backspace backspace release them after we take care of Tarkin? Her hand clenched angrily around the phone as he made his announcement, while the other balled at his side. We need to take care of him, first.
Looking out at her comrades and the varied, inconsistently effective ways of traversing the vacant space, she decided to homogenize the process. I'm going to make some bridges between the walkways Celty typed out to Elphelt. If I do, will you be able to fly me there? She'd ask, pointing toward the electricity-infused tower crackling in the distance.
Whether or not the artificial human responded in the affirmative, Celty would hold her arms out once more, fingers splayed wide. All across the tangled series of walkways, straight, preferably short pitch-black solid walkways would spring out to connect one adjacent catwalk to the next. The platforms would hold under a decent amount of weight, and would be reasonably resistant to damage save for a vulnerability to any all-too bright bolts of connecting laser fire. However, the effort of connecting the space would immobilize Celty, and she would be unable to take the necessary focus to move herself without the assistance of Elphelt or someone else.
If I had that kind of power, I'd have dropped a meteor on your house ages ago~
Calamity is a housewife
Elphelt / Ramlethal - Death Star, To The Firing Control Room
Sayaka Miki, and Kyubey. If she didn't know any better, she'd think that Sayaka was a Magical Girl (judging from the outfit) and that little Kyubey was her standard Magical Girl show mascot. Turns out that was exactly what they were. Huh. Kyubey was helpful enough to provide that bit of exposition via quick telepathy.
On a less meta matter, while they were moving along, Sayaka happened to ask her about her last name.
"Huh? Yes, she's my sister. From what I've been told, she's been here in Battleworld for a while before me. You've met her, I presume?"
Continuing that conversation would have to wait, however, as Damian began to snap, go nuts, and Celty stopped him. Obliging the headless horsewoman's request, she hovered over to the stromtroopers being hung out to dry.
"Um... my associate will release you as soon as we've done business with Mister Tarkin. So uh, hang in there!"
Signing out with that poor choice of words, she then returned to Celty's side as the rest of the team progressed in their own ways. Squinting a bit to read the text on her business partner's cellular device, she nodded, eyes bright with confidence.
As soon as Celty was finished with her handiwork, the Valentine would lock her arms together around Celty's waist, before kicking off the ground and taking off. Her destination? The tower in the center, just as instructed.
Emerging from the door linking the Firing Control room and the Laser Tube, Ramlethal immediately bolted down the single walkway, ahead of the rest. Just missing the sight of her sister heading for the same target she was, she simply charged forwards. Tarkin had to be stopped from firing that weapon, that was her mission, and Ramlethal had always been rather single-minded when it came to missions.
Sin - Mitakihara Industrial Sector, Operating the Shuttle
As his Magical Girl and Persona user allies scoured the inside of the ship, Sin simply headed straight for the ship's controls.
A part of him reminded him that he wasn't a space pilot, and that simply pressing every button at the controls was likely to get them killed. But time was of the essence, and they had no time to be delicate.
Even still, Sin simply stood there, befuddled, as he tried to make sense of whatever was before him.
"Uhhhh... so... there's gotta be a... 'Go' button or something, right?"
edited 26th Mar '17 7:39:51 AM by LatverianBadger
"Shake the dust." - Anis Mojgani
The Grand Re-Vizier
Batman leaped over the saber as it flew at him and went into a roll, coming up in a crouch and lunging forward with his own blade, looking to make a much stronger stab at one of Vader's legs, though prepared to roll sideways out of the way in case Vader called his blade back to hand. Hopefully he could use a disabling strike rather than a killing one on the cyborg warrior, though given their vast differences in power he couldn't be sure he'd be able to disable Vader before others more lethal measures proved effective, or Vader recovered enough to destroy them all.
huzzaaaaaaaah
"Maybe it's my age speaking..." Bradley said to the new arrivals... teenagers, if their world worked like his, but then again he had learned over the years not to underestimate people based on their ages (a lesson that applied to both his enemies and his friends). "But is it really that smart to treat a being like our benefactor with such... informality?"
"Then again, I can already tell this world doesn't run on the same rules as mine." He held out his hand to the only male one, presuming him to be some sort of leader of the group. "Allow me to introduce myself: King Bradley. Recent arrival. Unfortunately our benefactor doesn't seem like the kind of person who'd share sensitive information... the kind that would help me and my family survive in this brave new land."
The eye blast from Starfire hit Vader directly in the back of the head, and due to his injuries, he was too slow to evade or block. The powerful blast blasted his helmet off, and it went clattering over to the steps leading to the throne. The now unmasked
◊ Vader reached up with his hand to halt Batman's incoming saber in place as his own saber rebounded and came for Batman's back. Then Jaune's shield struck him in the back of the head, sending him staggering before he could get back to his feet. At this point, Sypha's lightning struck cleanly, and Vader convlused as both his brain and his life support systems fried.
And so the dark warrior fell to the floor, dead.
From the throne, only laughter was the response as the Emperor rose, clapping. You have done well to defeat him. Yet, he was weak, a broken shell of what he could have been.
Suddenly, he lifted his hands, firing lightning directly into the backs of his guards and sending them flying down the steps, dead.
I, however, will soon rise up, and gain true immortality. I have been granted power by a powerful dark side entity, one who has shown me the path to immortality. An ancient dark side ritual, the secrets of which were long thought lost. I will obliterate your pathetic planet, and consume the life force of all who reside upon it. Their life force will fuel me, grant me unending life and power unlike that which the galaxy has ever seen. With such power at my command, I will return to my galaxy, consume everything, and become a god. Then, all of existence will kneel before me.
He then raised his hand, and suddenly a gust of wind came around him as a massive being
appeared, floating behind him, clearly the source of the dark vibes and unsettling feeling that the group had felt when they entered, which now was greatly amplified.
This powerful entity of the dark side has already acknowledged my superiority, and placed himself into my service. You have no hope of surviving a battle against me. And so I present a new offer to you. Throw down your weapons, kneel before me, and beg for mercy. Do this, and I shall permit you to live out your lives as my personal slaves. Refuse, and you will all die, and fuel my unending power.
Those checking the computers would mostly see unreadable jibberish. For Rogue, the only person who could read it, she would find it was a basic diagnostics terminal, with any real controls locked off from them by the main terminal.
Fixer took the lead of the laser group, motioning for everyone to follow as they slowly advanced.
Over at the other group, Lady followed along, placing a wary foot on the shadow bridges to test them, before shrugging and following. God knows she'd seen weirder today.
Meanwhile, Boss and Scorch took the lead of the main group, before Boss lifted his hand as he heard a sound.
"Jet troopers."
Without warning, a group of 5 jet troopers appeared from behind the massive pillar. Two broke offhand started firing with considerably more accurate fire at the laser group, one aiming for Ram while the other aimed for Red Hood. This path also had some terminals one could use for cover.
The other three assaulted the other group's flyers. One went after Arachne, one went after Sayaka, and the third tried to attack the other Valentine.
Meanwhile, those on the ground were not safe, as they approached, they would catch sight of a Death Trooper standing guard at the base of the tower they were approaching. On sighting targets, it would lift a massive gun, and start firing a massive burst of laser fire not unlike a chaingun.
"Men." Tarkin's voice continued, clearly unimpeded by the anger his enemy has shown. "Today you fight for the Empire. Do not show mercy, and do not fear death. Know that whatever this foe may try,we will endure! For the Empire is not built on the back of any one man. Should one fall, another will be there to take their place. The Empire will be victorious today, as it has always been!"
edited 26th Mar '17 11:50:13 AM by Meanken
Genosha Palace, Salon: Toodles!
Magnus smiled as he walked his fellow monarch out to the foyer.
"I am sure one of our physicians can find a way to aid your casualties." the Mutant King reassured. "Homo Superior come in many shapes and forms, some as foreign to Sapien anatomy as night is to day. Assuming Monsters are organic beings, I have no doubt we will find some way to help."
At the bottom of the facade's pristine steps, the two monarchs parted ways. Magnus left with a vehicle to carry Asgore swiftly to the portal, and the promise to send a team of physicians within the hour. So with one final smile and bow, the Mutant King returned to his palace.
Ikebukuro Hospital, Fourth Floor Hallway: It Pays to Be Observant! (a.k.a. These Shoes Were Made for Walkin')
Hei rubbed his "wounded" arm nervously, just below the bloody scarf. "Well, yeah but...I don't think staying will help much anymore. The building's getting torn apart—a stairwell's gone, one of the elevator's burnt out, and who knows what the lobby looks like right now. It's too late to hope 'something important' doesn't break; half the hospital's already broken."
A swift glance at the newspaper revealed a steel grey eye trained on the Director, like the scope of a sniper rifle. No doubt that trap was his doing, but was he working alone?
Hei couldn't risk a fight here; not with all the rooms, counters, and corners for other assailants to ambush them. Turning his eyes to the Director's back, the Chinese man offered a weak smile. "But that doesn't mean you can't do your job. You just can't...you know...do it here. Right now. If we can get out of here—maybe through a staff entrance—you can handle everything without the Empire breathing down your neck."
Hei didn't dare risk another glance back, but he focused as much as he could on the sounds behind him. The newspaper's rustling would be too soft, too far away. Hei needed something else, a giveaway that might distinguish that man from the hospital staff walking around.
Walking...
Hei had spotted one of the assailant's shoes earlier, when he was resting it over his other knee. Black sheen, probably rubber sole, but too formal to be typical running shoes. Where most sneakers had rubber heels, formal shoes like those had stacked layers of leather. Doctors and nurses are mobile people, who need to stay on their feet for long hours. They'd wear the more comfortable rubber running shoes, which would squeak or skid on the hospital's linoleum floor.
Formal shoes clack on these floors, thought Hei, and he's still trying to blend in. Even if he's careful, that sound will only get louder if he follows us.
Too bad that tell might only keep one assassin away. Hei would need his eyes to search for any more.
edited 28th Mar '17 12:10:19 PM by TheodoreHastings
As Ruby ran across the rooftops, she might hear the sound of large engines approaching from the sky. Suddenly, she would see a ship
fly overhead before stopping and turning to face her. In the cockpit was its owner, in his usual armor
◊. Without warning, the laser turrets opened fire on Ruby, with laser blots strong enough to penetrate ship hulls.
A snort would be heard over the comms. "Offer denied. You have my terms, I will give you 15 minutes before I begin eliminating everyone not in an imperial uniform. This conversation is over."
With that, he hung up, and began walking down a hallway to relay the new orders to his men.
"Well, no, you're not wrong about that, she'd be pissed regardless."
He paused a second, not wanting to sound like an asshole but unable to think of any other way to say it. "But....you know, you could just....you know....not read peoples minds. That'd solve your issue and make you a lot less likely to be attacked by an angry mob of people."
Trish gave it a second to think, then nodded. "Ok, I'm game. Should be fun, never gone drinking with demons before. Tonight work? Might be busy tomorrow,,always seems to be a lot of work around here to get done."
Nero took a moment to deeply consider Hal's words. Then he laughed. "I think you're reading way too much into this, buddy."
Before he could say more, Grant spoke up, and Nero turned to him. "Oh, shit, you're a friend of hers? Ya, she's been hanging out in our office ever since she bumped into Lady during the first day."
He then caught sight of the look Grant was giving Trish, and laughed. "Like what you see, eh? We got another hot chick who hangs out in the office too, you'll probably meet her later. Don't go getting jealous, Dante over there isn't in a relationship with them, if he was gonna make a move, he'd have done it years ago. And I already got a girlfriend. Meaning, they're hot and single." Nero prodded Grant in the side with his elbow, just in case he wasn't being subtle enough. "Might wanna change the wardrobe if you're gonna make a move, I don't think they're into....whatever look you're going for."
The Cure turned to Yang as she asked her question. "No, I am satisfied. However, I will not be handing out rewards until tomorrow morning, so you will need to wait until then for your reward."
edited 26th Mar '17 10:56:34 PM by Meanken
Lucha Libre goddess
Starfire-Imperial Room-Requiem
When Starfire blew away the Sith Lord's face, she finally could see him for what he truly was. An old man whose hate had consumed his soul and burn his body.
After Sypha gave the killing blow, she flew towards Darth Vader.
Starfire knelt just at the side of Darth Vader. She looked at him silently. A deep sight came from the princess.
"I am sorry I couldn't save you from yourself. For I do not see a villain but a slave . "She tried to close his eyelids. "Your demise does not bring me joy yet it only carries sorrow to my heart. The tamaranean princess touched Vader's chest while her long hair covered her own face.
The still kneeling Starfire faced the emperor from the ground.
"You are indeed a mighty foe." She stood up looking at the emperor. Yet your thirst for power deceives you." Starfire aimed a closed fist at the emperor as it slowly glew a green tint. " Immortality and power are without meaning with no friends at your side."
"Your heart has refused to care of anyone, but yourself. It is why, I pity you, Emperor."
"For true power doesn't come from a side of dark. True power comes from within; from the friends we make and the people we care."
Starfire fired a long beam of green plasma energy towards the emperor
"This is the power that will bring you down."
edited 26th Mar '17 9:52:05 PM by FallenLegend
Make your hearth shine through the darkest night; let it transform hate into kindness, evil into justice, and loneliness into love.
Calamity is a housewife
Valentine Sisters - Death Star Fire Control
Before long, the next enemy presented himself. Boss' signal, thankfully, gave Ramlethal time to see them coming, and deflected the incoming laser fire with a quick cast of barrier. When the blast dispersed over her, she dismissed the green energy shield and, with a flick of the wrist, sent a sickly green sphere of crackling energy at the Jet Trooper that accosted her. The shape of a bat was visible within the sphere, flapping its wings to send itself straight at the Trooper and ram into him, hopefully stunning him with its magic energy.
Whether he was struck by the fireball or not, the Jet Trooper would find the Valentine soaring straight at him, her clawed hands out and reaching to scratch at his chest and neck.
Elphelt, with Celty in tow, couldn't reliably draw upon her firearms, and a deathly red laser nearly singed her dress as she twisted around to dodge it. She zig-zagged about, eventually stopping under a walkway, using it as brief cover.
"Oh dear, this Tarkin fellow's rather lacking in social graces..."
Her banter done, she continued flying and dodging, attempting to steer herself towards the tower.
"Celty! Think you can get him?"
"Shake the dust." - Anis Mojgani
Anti-Gnosis Weapon
Aigis, Throne Room — His Arrival
Beneath the stairs to the Emperor's throne, Aigis had been pacing to and fro in soft, cautious thuds, the luminous white tip of her charged beam cannon providing the only real illumination in the dark space. To a casual observer, her peering alternately around each side of the walkway might imply she was trying to figure out how best to place a shot, but the gynoid was truthfully spending that time scoping out every nook and cranny she could catch in her visual sensors.
She had briefly considered using her abilities to boost her allies' capabilities, but immediately ran into twin problems of limited knowledge and too many choices. What range would her support spells have in this new environment where The Cure had restricted the power of their Personas? Even if they could reach far enough, how many people could they affect at once? If the targets were limited, who among the party would be optimal to choose? In hindsight, she immensely regretted not testing such things as soon as possible, as would have been most logical.
With the possible outcomes far too numerous to consider, and with the Imperial Guards not seeming to take much role in the battle raging on the other side of her cover, the blonde had instead turned returned her attention to the matter of the eerie presence she'd been detecting ever since entering the room. That task suited her just fine, as something indescribable about the feeling had grown into an obsessive, persistent nagging in the back of her mind, festering something like she imagined an unreachable itch might for one of her organic allies.
This is... a Persona? A Shadow...? As her well-founded paranoia demanded that she continuously search, Aigis simultaneously tried to wrap her mind around just what in the world it was she was sensing. Why can I discern it's existence but not location or nature? Is it some new form of existence I have not encountered? That cannot be! My sensors are only tuned to detect Shadows and Personas. Could it be deliberately concealing its presence from me? Previous Full Moon Shadows demonstrated such abilities... But that would mean that it already knows I possess instruments capable of detecting it... Where is it? Where is it?!
It was only after Vader's defeat and the Emperor's speech following the callous murder of his own personal guard that she was finally able to pinpoint the source...
And as soon as she did, the itch in her mind blossomed into a terrible, overwhelming pressure, aching in a way that she had never thought possible. Overcome by sudden onset of never-experienced sensation called intense migraine, she let out a sharp gasp in spite of herself — and by the time Starfire had shot off a speech of her own, the robot girl utterly lost the battle to suppress the agonized groan she was trying to hold in, and clutched at her metal skull, stumbling pain-drunk to sag against one of the windows. And then...
Here! HE is here! We must fight! The pressure exploded against her consciousness, fighting to get out, struggling to be released — and, it felt like, threatening to tear her very self in two in the process. Shakily, Aigis shook her head, wanting at that moment to be anywhere but there. Anywhere but in that room. Anywhere but near—
Be swift! We must strike HIM at once, before all is lost! it continued, even as its host moaned in delirious protest, Now! Now! NOW!
A raw scream tearing from her throat, the artificial humanoid felt her arms forcibly thrust to her sides as Palladion
◊ clawed her way out and took shape in a surge of blue mist. Transitioning to the form of a great lance even as she rocketed directly toward the not-Beelzebub hovering behind the Sith tyrant, the berserk Persona roared aloud a battle-cry that was as much fundamental statement of existence as challenge:
"NYARLATHOTEP!"
And, letting loose a very human wail of fear she didn't understand, SEES' stoic metal maiden followed suit with a booming blast from her cannon, aimed straight for the same target.
edited 27th Mar '17 9:28:51 PM by darksidevoid
GM of AGOG S4: Frontiers RP; Sub-GM of TABA, SOTR, & UUA RPs
Vampire Hunter
Sypha, Emperor's Throne Room
"May God have mercy on his soul..." Sypha said in regards to Vader, closing her eyes and doing the Sign of the Cross. She never, ever liked killing people like her... witches or warlocks. Darth Vader was, from what she had witnessed, a noble knight who deserved a better end than to be ganged up upon by them. He also deserves a lord more caring of his death and turned to face the Emperor, anger apparent in her eyes.
"So that was your plan... I had figured as much," Sypha said as the Emperor killed his two guards and ranted about his motives. She was, however, confused about what Dark Side entity he was talking about, though she was reminded of the very familiar dark presence she had been feeling throughout the throne room, especially now. The fact that the Emperor mentioned another entity here and then summoned it right in front of them seemed to point to one very ominous possibility.
While Starfire gave a speech that was at least above Trevor's attempts at speeches, Aigis who had previously refrained from battling Vader summoned her own entity which went berserk, attacking the entity and challenging it by name with Aigis following suit.
NYARLATHOTEP!
That was a name that she was familiar with from her studies to be a vampire hunter for the Church... One of the Old Gods associated with Malachi
and Dagon written about by the Dark Priest Barzai. So what did she know about Nyarlathotep? His titles include... the Crawling Chaos and the God of a Thousand Forms.
Sypha's eyes widened as she realized to her horror that the shape-shifting demon was Nyarlathotep, and was floating in front of them all right now as a fly-like monster unrecognizable to Sypha. Almost as quickly, Sypha's face contorted to one of intense rage as she began trying to pelt the fly-like monster with fireballs.
"HOLY FLAME!"
edited 27th Mar '17 11:33:10 PM by GameGuruGG
Wizard Needs Food Badly
The Grand Re-Vizier
Damian's response to the equivalent of a laser machine gun being turned the way of himself and his allies was to use his grappling hook pistol to rise up and hopefully out of the line of fire, then throw a bird-a-rang at the hands of the trooper wielding it in the hopes of knocking his aim off course as he used his glider cape to continue his advance toward both Tarkin and the enemy's point of fire. If nothing else, at least now he was starting to think clearly again.
Red Hood had a problem. Specifically, he didn't have any easily usable ammunition that could get through a stormtrooper's armor without resorting to heavier gear or tossed explosives that would have trouble hitting a jet-trooper.
There seemed to be an easy enough if slightly nutty solution to all this though. Specifically, the grappling hook pistols he already had in his hands. He fired one at the Jet trooper closing in closest to him, knowing that they would likely be pulled towards each other at high speed and give him a chance at an aerial clothesline or flying kick. If he was lucky he might even be able to snag some equipment off of the poor sap during the impact.
Batman wasn't entirely able to dodge out of the way of the return strike of Vader's saber throw. although he managed to avoid being seriously injured, he rolled to the side just slow enough to receive a glancing burn of a flesh wound to the shoulder. Fortunately, the pain distracted him enough to avoid the immediate mental shock and outrage over the fact that he had essentially helped to kill someone, though he doubted he could've done much to stop the others, or non-lethally subdued a powerhouse like Vader. He carefully picked up the Sith Lord's lightsaber, wondering if he could analyze it later on, though they had more important things to worry about judging by the Emperor's sudden, rather ominous speech.
Bruce honestly was lacking far too much context to understand what the majority of it was about except that some arcane ritual with a more powerful, malicious being was involved, which seemed fairly standard. When an actual demonic being manifested, Batman was at least mildly surprised, if only because nothing in the Wizard's dossier had mentioned anything like this. Perhaps it had something to do with the powers involved in the Battleworld.
The being definitely got a reaction out of some of the others there, though, and the name Nyarlathothep certainly brought to mind a number of well-known entities or aliases thereof, though none of them were anything Batman had personal experience fighting. Bruce wasn't sure how much help he would be against such a being at the moment, seeing as he was wounded, exhausted, and not properly equipped. He made a mental note to try and come up with countermeasures for any such demonic or extra-dimensional entities later, deactivated both lightsabers and retreated to a back corner to observe until he might find an opening against any of the enemies in the room as quietly as possible.
edited 28th Mar '17 11:42:27 AM by Dblade26
Death Star, Corridor: A Long-Awaited Battle Falls Flat on Its Face
With the others well on their way to face the Emperor, Havoc gestured for Carlos to come with her. She made sure to walk by his side, the holocom in the hand furthest from the Warden.
"Found a nice little space we can settle this." she explained, feigning indifference. "I'll send the distress call when we reach it; think of it as assurance, to keep either of us from cheating with a head start."
Havoc's manner started to shift as they walked. Nothing substantial, of course—head and back straightened, eyes opened wide, voice a few notes higher from her normal alto gruff—maybe just enough for Carlos to notice she felt different around him than she did around almost anyone else. She was serious, deadly serious come to think of it, but she treated him with a hint of playfulness and humor, like a dangerous animal trying to express approval in its own, alien way. Like a shark trying to show an uncaged diver that it wants to be friends!
"Saw your fight with the robot." said Havoc. "How far did you get, anyway? In yesterday's tournament."
Carlos's expression looked weird on him. It was...serious. He walked with Havoc, but he kept a hand on his Desert Eagle, and never took his eyes off of her.
"...Third place", he said finally. "You should have stuck around for the show, I had you in mind the whole time."
Havoc shot him a curious look, albeit an amused one. “What, you trying to flirt with me again? Least you’ve cut some of the bullshit.”
His lips tightened. "If you had saw, maybe you'd realize what a terrible idea this is right now. I thought I made it clear, Havoc, that there isn't anything to 'settle' between us."
“You’re only saying that because you won.” Havoc replied, her frown returning. “Doubt you’d be so friendly if I killed you back in the tournament, Warden.”
She flashed a smirk with the title, as if the menacing threat he’d made before meant next to nothing now. Havoc had seen true terror, and it didn’t come from a fucking sheriff.
“Besides, that’s not why we’re doing this.” she continued. “Not the only reason, I mean. Believe it or not, I don’t think we’re all that different. We’re both killers, when all’s said and done. We both like doing it, and we’re both damn good at it.”
Carlos's smirk dropped as he suddenly stopped walking, his eyes flashing with heat. "Don't you even try to pull that.”
“If you’re going to try pretending you didn’t enjoy blowing my brains out, you’re lying to both of us. I saw that look in your eyes: that sense of total control, the power to force someone to do whatever you wanted. You could’ve killed me without a word but no, you had to savor the moment; tell me just who you are, what you do, and why the very thought of you should make me quiver in my boots. Can’t deny it worked, either. For a while.”
“That presentation was for your benefit, not mine. And you didn't take it. So now, I have to play cleanup for yet another psycho who's too far gone to know sanity if it smacked her on the ass. That's why we're here."
Forced to a standoff, Havoc stared through the Warden as she’d done when they first met. Only this time, she actually seemed to see him. Her jaded eyes shifted slightly, searching for something in his features: a tell, perhaps, or his true intentions. Something to convince herself that this wasn’t the waste of time Ramirez thought it was—what he pretended to think it was.
This wasn’t the most rational choice. She stood still facing a dangerous enemy, one who had a physical weapon at the ready and fuck knows how many magical ones. The Contractor she’d become cried for her to unlatch a CBJ-MS right here and now, and shoot the wizard till the barrel’s paint melted onto her fingers.
Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t even twitch for the guns at her thighs. It wasn’t a matter of honor or some other moral bullshit, she just...didn’t want to fight him like this. When neither of them were ready.
“You really believe that, don’t you.”
It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t said with Havoc’s usual snarky indifference. The words were soft, honest, with maybe a hint of fear.
His denial didn’t bother her—she found enough in that heated stare to know he at least doubted himself on that front. What bothered her, was his confidence in damning her a monster. To Carlos, Havoc was no better than those merciless vampires and witches the Warden hunted back on his world.
Just another psycho.
Havoc knew she should take that as a compliment. The “Red Giant” of Heaven’s War wasn’t famous for her friendly nature. Still, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. For all his talk, Ramirez never really looked beyond the face-value of people, at least not from what she’d seen. Despite doing the same damn thing to others, it felt...strange, being on the wrong end of judgement.
She rationalized her feelings in an instant: Ramirez wouldn’t budge if he was convinced she wouldn’t either. In order to make him move, she’d have to go first. She'd have to open up. So without another word, Havoc turned her back on Ramirez and continued down the corridor.
The next few moments would decide what she thought of the Warden. Her suspicions leaned unfavorably towards a sneak attack: he’d either try to shoot her in the back, head, or hand to get the holocom, or he’d try the less detectable route and strike with that water magic of his.
Ramirez might also take this chance to make a run for it, but that was unlikely. She’d shoot through whatever magical barrier he threw up before he reached the corner. If he vanished, all she needed to do was unleash bullet hell on the entire hallway and wait for the air to bleed.
However, she held a thread of hope onto the third option: that the Warden respected her vulnerability and followed her without a fuss. She would lead him to her chosen battleground: a long series of interconnected bridges, joining this portion of the battle station with the next over a trench so deep it seemed almost endless. While there were no railings to speak of, there were plenty of supports and scaffolds that webbed the bridges together, allowing easy access to multiple floors.
Havoc could feel each heartbeat as she moved forward, waiting for Ramirez to make his move.
...she felt the bullet before she heard it: a sharp, burning pain tearing through her kidney. The ball soared through her scrawny body as if she'd been made of paper, punching a marble-sized hole from back to front. She shuddered, dropped the holocom, and fell to the floor.
Havoc's clean white cadet shirt crimsoned as her body twitched on the ground. She could feel her life draining, pooling under her belly in the rich color of her payment. Her tongue seemed to be dead already; every time she struggled to say the spell, all she could mutter was "He—Heuhh—Haa..."
Somehow, she found the clarity to listen, not that there was anything to listen to. Maybe she expected Carlos to speak: to offer a prayer, like all the so-called 'good guys' did to their fallen foes. She'd sooner take a curse; even one of the Warden's jokes would be better than some bullshit pity. But Ramirez said nothing, and somehow that was even worse.
Instead, all Havoc heard was the dying grunts of her own voice, and the soft thump of boots walking away.
"He...Hee...HEAL..."
The bright blue orbs that swirled around her felt somehow warm, like sitting by a crackling fire after standing in a winter storm. Havoc felt the wounds through her guts seal tight, wriggling their broken strands back together in almost frightening perfection. Her muscles ached, and she was still short for breath, but Havoc would live.
And she would get some goddamn payback.
The boots sounded softer now, but not out of earshot. Havoc clawed onto her knees, almost slipping back to the floor once or twice thanks to the red-black puddle underneath her. Her arm twitched as she slung the Imperial rifle off her back and trained her scope on the Warden's back.
She felt tired, her vision shifted out of focus, but her blood-starved Contractor brain still told her that if she missed, she was dead. For good, this time.
Her brain gave another piece of advice, though not one Havoc especially liked. Nervertheless, her trigger finger wavered a moment, receded, and switched the blaster to stun.
The bright blue ring that Havoc fired caught Carlos square in the back. How she managed to pull of that small miracle, she couldn't say, but Havoc crawled to her feet as the Warden fell to the floor. She stumbled like a drunk college freshman, but managed to reach him without falling or dropping her blaster. Yet another small miracle.
She stared down at his unconscious face, and felt a violent urge to kick out his teeth.
"I don't wanna be wrong." she heard herself say. "I hate being wrong."
Her Contractor brain was mocking her now, telling her she was wasting time and energy by blabbing to a sleeping man. She should do the smart thing—the rational thing—and shoot this Spanish jackass in the head, before somebody else found them. It'd be the easiest thing in the world: just lift the blaster a bit, pull the trigger, and move on. Hell, she could even shoot him lots of times, just to be safe. Take out one of those super-guns and grind him into a puddle of mush even bloodier than Seraphina! Serves him right, for what he did to her yesterday.
But she heard another idea that seemed just as loud, and this one was only one syllable long:
Nah...
Havoc chuckled, and echoed the thought. She slung the blaster back into place and started looting the snoozing Warden for what he was worth.
Too bad there wasn't much she wanted. Grenades were obsolete, thanks to her new thermal detonators. She didn't want his guns, though she did steal his bullets in case he woke up sooner than she'd like. She did keep one bullet in the Desert Eagle, as a sick courtesy.
She took the enchanted gauntlet, and used it to grab the Warden's sword. She'd seen the trick he pulled on that wizard ogre the day before, and knew the thing would burn anyone but Ramirez. Havoc figured using the magic gauntlet as a buffer would let her drag it along with her; maybe she could sell it somewhere, but taking it was more for her own amusement than anything practical.
Unfortunately, by the time she managed to drag herself down the hall to her intended battleground, Havoc was sure this prize wasn't worth the burns. Whatever mumbo jumbo surrounding the gauntlet had died off, and the sword's hilt felt like red-hot iron in her leathered hand. She dropped the damn thing with a curse, and began to comically kick it towards the bottomless pit. When the black swallowed the stupid blade, Havoc ripped off the gauntlet and fed the void again.
Havoc felt like her head was underwater. The walkway's straight and precise edges swam in bizarre waves; it might've been pretty, if Havoc could've found enough air to breathe. Her skin had grown whiter than the hallway lights, contrasting the deep crimson stains that branded her hands and clothes.
Havoc leaned herself against the wall, afraid that if she rested entirely, she might never get back up. She had to leave, to find somewhere safe, to replace the blood she'd lost so quickly.
She needed him. No, it.
"Nyarlathotep!" Havoc croaked. "I'm done. Get me out of here."
The creature must've decided to spare her an audience (the third small miracle), and just opened a portal not unlike the ones found in the Common Room. Havoc pulled her legs towards it, but spat one last glare down the hall, where Ramirez lay on the ground.
"Don't prove me wrong."
And with one last effort, Havoc was gone.
edited 28th Mar '17 3:37:38 PM by TheodoreHastings
"Yes, about that...there isn't a secret anyone could hide from me, Dante, Son of Sparda, and Trish...I assume calling you his mother would be inaccurate?" She wasn't too sure where that would put her on that family tree. "The third eye is something that all Satori possess, and it lays hearts, souls and minds ba-"
"She reads minds," Yuugi butted in.
Satori passed her an unamused aside glance, before sighing. "...Terribly karmic of you, isn't it? Yes, I read minds."