Fwomph
Bea :> TAMPER WARNING
Bea was thankfully out of the main glut of the students as the race began and they stampeded, among them her roommate. It was obvious to tell that something was wrong, emotions
"Sir!? Something is desperately wrong. I am coming up to assist you!"
Bea took a deep breath, looking up and down the bleachers between herself and the commentary booth and took off in a run
"Apologies for the interruption Interceptor and the Saint. It is a disaster—"
Surrounded by weirdoes
Sam was too engrossed in his creations for a moment, before bolting out, pelting anyone near with snowballs, laughing as if he was a kid. Of course, since he tossed things without care, he whacked himself in the head.
"Man, what the hell?" He said, feeling a bit clearer, but he needed to get back into running.
It was only then that he noticed the pandemonium going on.
"What the hell?" He said, starting to make a beeline to the nearest crazy guy, ready to just shove snow on their pants to see if that resumed some level of sanity to this place.
Wake me up at your own risk.
Breath of the Sun
Mikael
He looked down at the girl in his arms and forced a smile, dropping only briefly as Kit exploded past him. Mikael's eyes lingered on Kit's rapidly dwindling figure for a moment, before looking back at Lucy to reassure her.
"Yeah, something's fucked. No one can stop themselves. It's like everyone's become a demon - impulse control is shot to hell." One hand came up to rest on her head. "If I hadn't picked you up, you'd have been trampled. I don't know what's causing it, or why, but hold on to me, alright babe?"
In any other circumstance he might have briefly wondered if calling her 'babe' was too forward, but between the ongoing mindfuck and the madness of the race the thought hadn't even occurred to him.
What is so amusing about this? Why do you take lives? How can you forget?
Edgar going berserk
As he got ready Edgar suddenly felt odd, the psychic influences got to him quickly making his inhibitions disappear. His shy behavior and mannerisms were gone and with a confident smile he proclaimed.
"ALRIGHT! IM GOIN IN!."
He started running at his top speed but noticed that many of the racers were using their powers to gain an advantage like the monkey girl with nice buttocks. This made him angry and so he started using his powers too, aiming his emitters behind him he shot a pressurized purple mist using the recoil to gain even more speed for a bonus anybody who breathes this purple mist would find themselves without any coordination of their limbs and a lack of equilibrium <Have fun trying to run and use your powers suckers>. he thought.
He dint stop there because this purple rocket of chemical warfare only stopped for kicking people in the knees from the side, punching people in the face and overall being a menace to whoever was in front of him, hell he grabbed a smaller competitor and spiked him like a football before continuing running and spraying.
Lucy, resting on Mikael's back, would be able to hear the raucous cries of the audience - oblivious to anything going wrong - and hate would start to bloom within. Hate for the teachers who were up there making out and fooling around and cheering everything on. Hate for the classmates who were merrily competing while she was here struggling and bleeding and feeling like death. Hate...Hate...Hate...
As Mikael looked around the area, seeing and hearing the unrestrained noises of the crowd, rage seemed to start to flow through him. Why should he have to carry Lucy around? Shouldn't she walk on her own? Why were they all laughing and cheering and having fun? It just all made him feel so...so angry!
Out on the race, Kit was coasting through - but before long he was coming up on some robotic servitors armed with large shields that formed a substantial obstacle, halting progress. But surely he could just run right through the damn bots. They'd just crash to pieces when he ran into them. He was the best, he was the greatest racer, the others would acknowledge his greatness before long. They would have to!
Edgar would find himself feeling ever increasing joy every time he hit someone, crunched them under his fist, tossed them around, brutalized them. There was just such a joy in being able to do this. Seeking it out, more and more...
Sue would feel such utter rage at people trying to interfere in her getting to the finish line. She could take em all on! She could rip them limb from limb - such was her rage...!
By now, the teachers and onlookers from the school administration were given to their most hedonistic and brash impulses. Even The Saint fading into the mass of screaming, shouting, luxuriating. People outright choking each other for fun and gasping through gripped fingers as they gyrated——
And the audience was not doing all that much better. The throngs of people were a mass of unruly, clawing enjoyment - those who weren't clambering on top of one another broke from it to throw fists and kick at anyone who dared interrupt their enjoyment. It was a mire of chaos - violence and desire intermingling until they were indistinguishable from one another.
The madness spread more and more, even the reporters outside speaking on the event going on were collapsed over themselves in the same state people were being submerged in.
Yet invisible among the shrieking, maddening choir was one calm man. Sitting by himself. Eyes glazed over and empty. Watching the ongoing events with a detached sort of evaluation. Not a word passing his thin, pursed lips as he took in everything. Hair combed and slicked back, dressed in a white polo shirt and jeans. He was standard, generic, he faded into the background.
Sign on for this After The End Fantasy RP.
AKA Nixer
Lucy Livingston
Lucy knew that these feelings were an attack. She knew because she'd just discussed it with Mikael. But even though she tried to struggle against them, as always they overwhelmed her. Being self-aware was one thing, but if she'd figured out how to control herself normally she'd probably be a very different person. The hatred welling inside her was only an exaggerated form of the contempt she had already. The misanthropy that challenged her worldview came from somewhere; not at all an external thing. It was a part of her, merely being drawn to the surface. She knew this very well.
So a part of her remained directive, even if that direction was based on unreason. Look, she said to herself, no longer filtering out negativity as Wraith as she thought. The person responsible for all this has got to be in the crowd. If I take them all out, I'll find them eventually. They all hate us anyways. They're laughing and cheering like it's a game. Nothing'll sober them up more than making them be a part of it.
She pulled herself out of Mikael's grasp, knowing it was probably affecting him too and that he would only hold her back, and she began to stalk towards the stands with the screaming crowd. She didn't approach them fully, assessing them from a distance as she judged how to do this. A sneer broke out on her face, as she clenched her fist and glared at them. Her eyes flicked from face to face, seeing who stood out. She looked at them all judgingly. All disgusting peasants and animals...
She let her ink spread out around her, lifting her high atop six legs that carried her into the stands. She idly lifted members of the crowd, holding them out of reach of her as she studied them, then carelessly tossed them aside. She went through them, grabbing several people at once before doing the same. On and on she went. A thought occurred to her. These violent little piss-ants were all acting on their base impulses, like her. Would the perpetrator be smart enough to act the same?
She switched gears, spikes elongating from the ends of her tendrils as she picked up the pace and rose herself up further to a greater height. She wasn't looking for hay in a haystack anymore; she knew it might be a needle after all. So she scanned and scanned...
Someone tried to dive for her, and she knocked them away. She tried not to pay attention, but her facial muscles twitched. She dared to look on a whim. Had they landed safely? Or had she killed them?
She couldn't see them.
No matter. She shook off that brief moment of concern and focused back on...
"YOU."
Her voice was so low and hoarse with spite that she barely even recognised that it was hers. Her gaze had fallen on one man sitting down, not reacting as the crowd did. She didn't even bother to confirm if it was the perpetrator or not. She simply gritted her teeth into a grimace and thrust a tendril of ink towards him; weaving it through the crowd to try and wrap around the man and lift him into the air. She'd throw him out of the stands if she had to. Let the carrions feed. A small laugh escaped her. It was euphoric and free.
"Look at me now..." she murmured to herself. "Knew I had it in me..."
She'd forgotten that her brain was injured. She didn't even feel the blood streaming down her face from her eyes, her nose, and her mouth. Somewhere deep beneath the haze, her subconscious screamed that she was dying and needed to flee. But it wasn't loud enough for her to hear it.
She twitched again, though. Her heart felt heavy. This felt right, but it didn't feel right.
"Sorry, David. Knew I'd disappoint you..." she sighed.
Edited by Enirboreh on Jan 6th 2023 at 11:57:38 AM
bork
(They/them)
Fala — The Racetrack
The wave hit Fala right as she took off, and all of the thoughts about everything that brought her here hit her at once; all of the thoughts that she tried to keep locked away. She remembered all of the stares, the taunts, the bullying. She remembered how her peers and even some adults would look for reasons to treat her as the other: her looks, her troubles with emoting like her peers, her dads...
And she remembered the day that she wondered what all of this was for. The magic space rock that brought her to life had to have landed on Earth for some sort of reason, right? It felt unfair of her that she would be brought to life by chance only to be treated as a freak. Surely, there was a reason she was alive, wasn't there?
The news that Saint Academy was accepting applications to enroll made everything feel so clear the day she got it. This had to be a sign. A sign that everything that she had gone through up 'til then was in preparation for a hero's journey. That she was destined to rise above everything that sought to destroy her and become something great.
With all of those thoughts buzzing around in her head, she ran as fast as she could, eyes blurring with tears. After all, what else could she do?
Edited by Akkun_K on Jan 6th 2023 at 7:37:05 AM
If I die, tell Hex Haywire I loved him.
Breath of the Sun
Mikael
Attempting to afflict a demon with rage is not usually the smartest move. But some people, Mikael figures, are stupid. Really, really, really fucking stupid. So stupid that it just pisses him off.
He's self-aware enough to realize that the feeling he's having isn't natural, and as a result was able to let Lucy slip from his grasp without trying to crush her in his hands. Instead, he took that rage being pushed into him and focused it, like sharpening a blade.
A blade that was now pointed at the one behind everything. Mikael followed Lucy's lead and scanned the audience, looking for the odd one out. Wide, jagged blades popped out of his arms, and he snapped one off as a crude throwing weapon while he searched. He came to a stop on the side of the track, any thoughts of finishing forgotten.
Lucy found the guy first, and as he spotted her ink lashing towards someone, he didn't bother to ask, or to think they might have the wrong man.
He simply threw the blade in his hands at the placid man, as hard as he could.
What is so amusing about this? Why do you take lives? How can you forget?
Fwomph
Bea :> TAMPER WARNING
"The Saint. Please calm yourself. You are stronger than this!"
Bea didn't have the strength or speed or really any physical trait required to try and physically restrain the rampaging paragon but she was trying her best with what her metalkinetic shoves could accomplish. But it wasn't really enough, right now Bea felt so powerless—
"You are an imperfect image. Let us correct that."
to stop the flood of chaos. But what just flashed across her mind gives Bea pause as she dropped prone to dodge an incoming school bag (likely flung by some superstrong student having a mental break), that was... Where did that come from? That was new, not a memor—
"Beauty is pain, doll."
Energy surging, electrical burn through every fiber of her being that bleaches the hair and burns behind the eyes. Half of her mind says she should be this way, half says not like this.
"There, a more perfect state."
They have to rescue her... They do, too late to save her vision. He helps make a blindfold laced with optical sensors hooked into an illicit neural connector chip, better than whatever eyes god gave her. Bea didn't think such a thing was possible, he smiles and says it's easy. She feels uneasy about the look in his eyes and the laugh he sounds.
A blonde strand falls in front of Bea's face as her perceptions lurch back into the present. Blonde, not white. Time's inverse vagaries washed away the 'perfecting' damage in the same stroke as it deprived her of muscle memory. Bea got up again, trying to reclaim some composure to be able to deal with what was theoretically the most dangerous person in this conflict. To think that even the legendary The Saint would fall to this chaos; the whole Academy had gone mad, just like—
Just like—
J̶̢̘̩̘͇̝̬̱͇͋͒̓̅̌̈́̈́͘͘͜ǔ̷̺̼̥̳̖̜͖̇̀̑͌̍̈́̅̈͒̐̽̂ş̸̗̻̹̬̣̺̖̻̤͠t̵̨̡̨̙͎͖͍̩̩͑̈́̑̒͒͛̂̊͒͒̀̂̊̏̔͜ ̶̖͉̳̲̖͙̼̬̺͙̘̔̎̍͝l̶̨̟̥̳̲̳̘͔̮̺̺͔̮̮̼̋̀̒́̈́̓̍͆̎̈͆̆̕͝͝i̶̡̹͓͈͇̥̥̙̜̓͊͆̽̓͝k̴̨̧̧̛̝̩̘̝͚̼̤̯̜̖͛̄̈́̽͒̄̅͜͠͠e̵̢̢̛͕͇̙̝͕̳͉͂̓̈́̿̋̿̌̀͑͑̎̚͝͝ͅ ̶͕͇̜̭̥̻͗̔̆̅̈̌̀w̷̢̢̤̙̫̳͔̗̺̙̿́̉̌̈̑̊͛̑̈́̋͜͝͝ĥ̵̡̢̳̬̻̟̜̝̬̩̻̽̊̍̓̎́̈̓͗̂͐̓̐͘͜ͅe̶̡̧̨̻̲͎̜̳̰̦͒͜ń̵̠̗͕̙̞̲̲͕͇͇̞̻͉͚̾̂̉̒̾̅̕͘͝?̸͇̩̦̅̑͌̃̎̕͝
She sees the look in his eyes. She doesn't like it.
Oh sure, she doesn't like a lot of how he's changed between the missions, but it's the eyes that concern her the most. Some say you should be concerned by those who have cold and emotionless eyes, but there's something to the warmness behind his that feels unrestrained; like he'd laugh at what ought bring sorrow and let his passions change the world.
A̷̡̼̤͎͎͙͐̑̽̈́̚̚̕͝n̷̨̢̛̳͚̯̳̖͙̟̐̀͒̈́̉͑͝d̸̜̲̯̰͇̞͍͉̥̳̈̃̽̌̿͐͗̾̈̊͌̚ͅ ̸͍̝̭̻͙̮̰̣̤̖̣̱̥͆̅͆̏̽̓̾̎̓̀̎̓͝t̶̮͆̒̃̑̇͗͘͝h̸͍̩̤̠͆̃̉̕ḛ̸̡͍͚̜̘̫͍̪̳̽͆̀́̉̃͊̋́̉̕͘y̷̹͖̹̝͖̙̲̞̖̗͔̲̥̓̇̈́͂̑ͅ ̸̤̤̙́̌͆d̶͖̰̝̏̓̊̈́̄̌̓́̀̈́́͛͋͠í̵̛̤͍̗̤̒̊̒̆͗͗͒͑̓͋̚͝͝d̶̡̼̪̟̩̝̖̆
She failed him.S̴̹̿h̸͙̻̏͊e̸̬̘̾͗ ̵̈́̀ͅf̷̣͒͝a̸͈̿i̸͖̎l̸͇͕͋e̸̲̒d̷͖̙̅́ ̸͓͖̌͘a̶͎͍͘̚ṯ̵́͑ ̵̺̂t̵͈̒ḫ̸̾̈́ě̸̲͝ ̶̢̔v̶̳́̂ȩ̷͓̑r̴̰͓̋̉y̵̛̙̔ ̷̖̄ṕ̷̢ͅṷ̶̢͛͗ŕ̶͕̺̉p̷̨̮̿ŏ̸̗s̸̙͝e̵̡̼͝ ̶̤͆f̶̢͚͋̓ò̵̳r̶̙̥͑ ̶͇̒̔w̴̬͗h̴̭͐i̷̺̱͒́c̶͎̭͑h̶̖̺̀ ̶͇̈́͠s̵̤͈͂̊h̴̭͛ė̸̢̈ ̴̙̔w̴͕͘ã̷̬s̴͔͕̑͘ ̵̘͓̈́̕m̶͚͉̌̕a̶͖͌d̷̢͊ē̸̞.̷͔̃͋͜
Her shout of pain and sorrow is joined by a screeching of metal as the beams of the stands around her bend outwards under a sudden bubble of emanated force, causing Bea to fall a little bit. She knew her powers had activated wildly and hated the idea, but right now she couldn't stop it if another wave hit. She just had to pick herself up, prepare for another attempt at combating The Saint and just hope that whatever the source of this madness was, it would be Ș̷̟̮̩̙̞̹̫̬̻͔̲͗̿͛̂͊̍̿́̄̓̈́̀́̕͘͜lain Ș̷̟̮̩̙̞̹̫̬̻͔̲͗̿͛̂͊̍̿́̄̓̈́̀́̕͘͜oon.
It's clearly a case of backroom political albumizing.
Fancy That
Watching Lucy extend an undulating tendril of ink. Anticipating it. Thinking about how she truly hadn't changed. Well, the other iterations of her were at least as psychotic. The man took a hold of one young man eagerly making out with - and choking out - his girlfriend - and pushed him in the way of the tendril as he took a step up and a step back. The man's image seeming to fluctuate from the sudden movement...but then as the tendril grabbed the decoy, hoisted him up...
Mikael's lance fell upon the boy. Eyes wide and registering what was coming. A scream coming from his mouth—-
And the spike caught instead, due to the unevenness of Lucy's grip, right under his arm. Lightly cut the side of his chest—-
But that was not what the crowd would see. Their eyes fixated on the scene there, they saw - and would swear they saw it after - that Lucy held him fast and tight, while Mikael impaled the young man outright, blood squirting from the skewered young man - the scream instead the dying wail he uttered as he went slack.
And the crowd, eyes diverted from their hedonistic task by the disruption, would see Mikael Freisch and Lucy Livingston not as they were. But as ghoulish, wide eyed specters - mouths a wide flourishing array of teeth like piano letter keys locked in a gruesome and grimacing smile.
The response was immediate - the crowd had already been wound up, their emotions heightened, arousal and anger equal, their heightened reaction guaranteed. Row after row of the crowd flooded forward and rushed at Lucy and Mikael - a tide that obscured and did not obscure the figure, who rather than join the medley began an exit plan from the immediate area.
But the crowd, their emotions at a point of psychosis, did not care. A fact - when someone is in such a state, their breakage and intertwined adrenaline flood pushed their bodies past what normal strength they could acquire. In this crowd, wielding whatever improvised weapon they could find - when they weren't just trying to grab hold of Lucy and Mikael and pull them apart with bare hands - there was of course an improvised leader.
One "Jason", a basketball star from out of town come to support his sister in Class 2C. Red headed, he was already given to overreaction and assumption. A slight bigotry in his heart regarding demons exacerbated into full blown neuroses by the emotional manipulation. He contributed what became the crowd's slogan: "Slay the Demon, Burn the Witch! They Killed!!"
The phrase spread like an idea virus among the violent crowd, heard from every corner and screamed by mouths male, female, young and old.
And both Mikael and Lucy would now, as this tide turned upon them, feel an onslaught of emotions. Depressive anxiety as they saw these people turning on them. Fear - riveting through the bones, shivering up the spine. And enormous sadness, to weigh down on the chest.
Sign on for this After The End Fantasy RP.
Deranged X-Mas Figure
Sue
That was close. Sue dodged the blast of energy, her Nimbus flipping up and down, hanging on with her feet. Her tail was singed, but she wasn't deterred. She was enraged. She was doing what any sane monkey would do and they had the gall to stop her! It was insane! It was infuriating! It was enough to make her go ape! Except she was an ape so that wasn't possible, but the sentiment was there. She summoned her staff, eager to bring it down on the foolish masses. She would show them, show them all! She looked down, honing in on whatever caught her attention. And her first target was...
...sword lady?
That wasn't right, was it? Sure, she was pissed. It was easy for her to get pissed, with or without external influence. But she could never be pissed at sword lady! She shook herself out of it, things slowly becoming clear. Everyone was acting crazy, almost as crazy as her. She had enough self-awareness, but she and spider chick were the only crazy ones. If everyone was crazy, something was up.
She focused on Bea, channelling her anger on everyone but the sword lady. Sword lady was good, everyone else was bad. She dived down, swooping into Saint and taking him off his feet, away from the crowd. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but she never did. Maybe that was the secret.
Crowd
Interceptor remained unaffected, his computer brain protecting him from external influence. He hoped he was wrong, but whatever was happening, it was only getting worse.
"Negative, Bea. You need to get yourself to safety. My lack of organic tissue has kept me from falling under the influence, but you're much more susceptible. Get Armada. Tell her to summon the—"
But it was too late. The Saint had become the sinner, caught under Fancyman's spell. With a savage grin, he raised his fists, ready to strike down Bea and Interceptor with all his hatred...
...and then he was gone. He was whisked away, lifted aloft by a fuzzy brown blur. Sue gripped him by the neck, fangs bared, growling in anger. "HANDS OFF, DUMBASS!" She shouldn't have stood a chance, but the more her rage overtook her, the stronger she seemed to get. Perhaps it was a defence mechanism, a mystical reaction to whatever was affecting her, her eyes glowing red with fury. She dropped him away from the crowd, enough to create some distance. She didn't say a word, charging back in, crashing down towards her target.
The other students didn't fare any better. The demoness was filled with rage, her instincts overtaking her. She ran towards Mikael, charging in like a battering ram, roaring with hatred. Her presence didn't improve their chances, further fueling the crowd's hatred. Yet her own hatred wasn't absolute. Her anger was mixed with desire, pulling her punches as she rage. She was a screaming beast, but perhaps there was room to reason with her.
But the accountant was luckier. Whether it was his own mental powers protecting him or a stroke of luck, he remained unaffected, a beacon of sanity in a sea of madness. He thought about racing to the finish line on his own, perhaps using the mob to clear the way. But he couldn't leave his friends to their fate. He raced towards the crowd, shouting out with all the force he could muster.
"'STOP! If you have any decency or ounce of shame, control yourselves! Or are you no better than dumb beasts?"
He wasn't sure this would work. He could control individuals, maybe small groups, but he had never commanded such a crowd. He wasn't sure how many people he could free. Maybe half a dozen? But it would have to be enough.
Doctor Who — Long Way Around: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13536044/1/Doctor-Who-Long-Way-Around
Tell Me, Have You Seen the Yellow Sign?
Khulan - Saint-O-Mania 22
As far as Khulan had seen, Inkwell had raced ahead and made everyone get out of her way. As far as she had done—and she even wiped her hands clean!—she'd knocked some heads together to deal with the stands.
Yeah, then Inkwell went Kaiju on the stands. Oh. Bad guys. Yeah. Khulan skittered after her, blushing, and having no idea how she was going to explain utterly missing that. Never occurred to her that Lucy didn't have targets in mind, because why would Inkwell toss random members of the crowd? Maybe, I can deal with this and still win. That'd be a big showing!
Khulan didn't let Lucy's catches fall. She spun an utterly crude—she'd fix that in a sec—web alongside the stands and spiked those in her reach into it. Those out of her reach, she web-bungeed. If Lucy was doing a kaiju thing, she could at least make a decent web.
But she couldn't go back and make an orb-weaver worthy artwork of a web, because Red flew after Lucy with a freakin Jason Vorhees blade! And plunged it right in the chest of... a guy. BBEG, but a guy whose chest did not deflect the thing!
"Aaah!" Khulan immediately covered her mouth form that very uncool scream. What? Despite everything, it didn't get easier in her case. And she was almost always able to just tie the bad guys up. Them dying, she saw very rarely. She was never in a hero-involved impalement with a frakkin medieval death-tool. Them immediately turning into whatever-the-f*ck those were supposed was just crap on top.
Was he dead? He was stabbed. There was a Nurse Honey! Khulan had started sprinting and leaping through the stands to join Lucy and Mikael before she had that thought or a fully formed plan as per usual, but time was of the essence. She'd make it up. Naturally, the chants started with the crowd thick around her and angry.
She whistled, probably doing no more than getting their attention. Well, whistles were supposed to get attention. "Okay, they may look different, but ...I don't know but don't run towards the big monsters and definitely don't kill my friends!" She wouldn't do anything to the crowd until they attacked, but it was getting there.
"Tell me you two still have your senses and we just have to fix the eyes and the ghoul-thing..." Khulan said, skidding to a stop before Mikael and Lucy, clearly Mikael and Lucy because ghouls didn't just appear where her friends were before.
Edited by CenturyEye on Jan 6th 2023 at 8:22:48 AM
Look with century eyes... With our backs to the arch And the wreck of our kind We will stare straight ahead For the rest of our lives
AKA Nixer
Lucy Livingston
Lucy saw the crowd. In that state before her emotions were altered again, she was ready to rip through them and beeline for the man that was making his exit. But that wasn't what happened. The crowd turned on them, and a crippling fear overcame Lucy. There was only one time before when she'd been this deathly afraid. It dredged up memories she did not want to remember.
She remembered what had happened the last time she was cornered.
Lucy rejected those memories. She chose another option. As Khulan approached, she gave her a hollow look, shaking her head.
“I-I can't...”
Taking a few stumbling steps back from the crowd, her face pale and lacking expression, Lucy shot her tendrils straight upwards and latched them onto the overhang of the spectator stands above them. Hoisting herself up as quickly as possible, she gripped the edge of the roof once she'd made it up and pulled herself onto it. As soon as she was out of the crowd's reach, she quietly lay down and curled up into a fetal position; violently shivering in place.
Lucy's hands turned on herself, and she began to scratch at her skin with her fingernails.
It was all she could think to do to herself. She just lay on the roof, trapped in her own self-punishment, unable to move. Her brain was... aching, and she wondered if she'd lose herself again. She wasn't sure. She didn't know who she was now.
I lost.
I won.
No. That freak won. I've lost everything.
I know what I can do now.
How can I even live with myself now?
I could be invincible.
Edited by Enirboreh on Jan 6th 2023 at 4:06:07 PM
bork
Breath of the Sun
Mikael
There was a brief moment where the crowd almost died - had Mikael's emotions not been poked again, they would have run into his spikes and impaled themselves, and he almost wouldn't have cared.
Then rage was replaced by fear. This didn't quite help on its own - a demon's fear response was only marginally less violent than his anger response - but seeing Lucy suddenly panic and flee allowed him to put his thoughts into focus.
Unfurling his wings, rules be damned, he prepared to take flight, which was exactly when the demoness from earlier crashed into him.
They went tumbling, and he reflexively met her claws with his own, though like her he pulled his punches, fighting in an uncharacteristically defensive manner. The moment he saw the opportunity, he took to the air. Most of the crowd couldn't fly, so this would reduce the number of assailants drastically.
The demoness could fly, though. Which was a problem. Mikael swooped and spun in the air to avoid her, raising his claws in a gesture of surrender. "I don't wanna fight you, dammit! And I know you're better than this! Can't you tell that someone's fucking with your head?!"
What is so amusing about this? Why do you take lives? How can you forget?
Tell Me, Have You Seen the Yellow Sign?
Khulan - !!!!!!
"Wait!" Khulan held out her hand to the ghoul whose voice gave Lucy away. "Can't what?" She moved slowly because, even in the midst of this FUBAR situation, charging her seemed really wrong. She stopped when Lucy shot out tendrils and then her friend had pulled herself up and curled up on the ceiling.
What do I do? What do I do?! Okay, Demon-she-didn't-know's friend had the crowd. Mikael could probably survive the demon. It was just a demon. The er... impaled guy was very dead, motionless there on the floor and bleeding out and still as a doll... not thinking about that anymore. And if he was revivable, she'd never get him to trauma care in time. And he wasn't the BBEG, because this crap was still going on. But the Saint and Interceptor were right here and there was no barrier this time.
All things that crossed her mind long after Khulan took her action. Namely, leaping after Lucy. Not right on top of. That was what she did to targets. Leaping to the overhang and sprinting and then walking.
"Lucy?" Khulan knelt down, tentatively placing her hands on the other girl's shoulders. Probably. Lucy's transformed appearance made things harder. "Lucy." Khulan repeated the girl's name, while gradually moving her hands meet both of Lucy's. She had daemonic spider strength yes. Not an ounce that she'd used on Lucy. "I'm right here," She had no idea why instinct made her say that. She never said anything brilliant. What she just said was true—but said by a girl who might have to jump both of them out of the way of the next crazy thing. Look with century eyes... With our backs to the arch And the wreck of our kind We will stare straight ahead For the rest of our lives
Your Lord And Savior
Kitson Dragonfly - When The Gas Tank Exploded
Kitson's mind raced as he felt the win become less an idea, more a reality. The realization of manipulation that the others seemed to experience did not occur for the fighter yet, not quite yet. No, no, what occurred now was crescendo. The ice path and its ramps all led here, to this. Now, standing in front of Kit, was a wall. He understood. This was it, the final obstacle. The final marble pillar to greatness. The door to Kaeden Dragonfly.
This was the final verse of the song, now, the final three measures, and kit was flying entirely by the seat of his pants. The song began to cry out. The minor fall... Kit's hands fell upon the blade as he pushed off the frozen earth, pure speed and instinct guiding his form. Water molecules in the air started to form a solid block around the boy. He knew he could make it in time. How couldn't he? He had won every battle he had ever been presented. he had been named Patron Saint of The Badlands. He had single handedly destroyed house dragon fly in a single...
Wait.
The major lift... Now the air expanded. Concussive force danced in every direction but up. The notes all began to fall into place, but something was wrong. At this pivotal moment, Kitson wasn't proud of the Siege of Dragonfly; of those two men he had killed. He was supposed to be aglow at the thought of his conquests. Why wasn't he? Shura had always told him there was no greater joy than the days after battle. When Kit felt numb, he had said that no matter what, another fight would always return a warrior to high spirits. Kit had thrown himself into any battle he possibly could, he had created them where they did not need to be. Kitson had tried, bitterly tried to prove himself a warrior. He never realized until now that he was trying to prove it to himself more than anyone else.
The baffled king composing hallelujah...
The boy's grip faltered. The second time today, and the third in eternity. He felt the pins in his hair finally snap under his immense speed, his hair unfurling to its full length which trailed behind the speeding fighter. His arrogance gave way to desperation. He was wrong now, he had to be. He was a warrior, he was, and he would prove it. He would prove it to everyone. No one would be able to write him off as nothing or overlook him in a battle or throw him away like trash ever again! Never! He'd prove it, he'd prove he was the best goddamn fighter in the entire country, no, the entire world!
IGNITION
The sheath began to heat as the final notes were played, Kit's left hand resting directly under the hilt. Wait. Now he noticed it. He noticed his blunder in the fraction of a second before
START
the world exploded. The strength of the wind mixed with pure inferniano created an expanding fireball of annihilation. The wall of wind funneled the flames upwards and out. A mushroom cloud formed. They must've been able to see it for miles. Thankfully, the fire barely managed to move out thirty feet. An impressive area of effect, sure, but small enough comparatively to Kitson's lead that no human flesh would be burned. The shockwave, however, was another beast entirely. For 50 feet, a force sufficient to shatter the human skull erupted from the epicenter. From Kitson. The next 50 feet were lesser, only enough to knock one firmly on their back, and the 25 after that tapered off to a light wind. In 20 seconds, Kit had very possibly reduced 100 feet of stone and machinery into a smoldering crater.
But that was not all. The blade itself was drawn improperly. The heating in the sheath was not a charge of flame, but pure, trapped explosive energy. The explosion was not that of a successful draw, but the sheath failing to release the fire it had called upon. The blade was fully drawn, slicing the fighter's hand across the palm as it slipped forward from the rare, failed technique. This saved Kit's hand. The explosion of the sheath did not split the boy in half by the grace of ice. The armor Kit had made with the intent to blast through the machines had spared him his life. The explosion did knock the Songblade from Kit's sword hand, however, and pulled him away from the sword, disorientated and plagued by realization.
He made no contact with the ground. The ground was gone. Instead, Kit glided forward. In the blaze he saw nothing. He heard nothing. All he knew was that even in this pure chaos, this utter destruction, he was not excited. He was flying through the air, the true peak of his destructive power realized, and yet he could not say he was living the warrior's dream. The siege brought him boredom because he knew it was a battle he would never top, but now he'd done it. He'd topped it 40 times over. But he was still bored.
The blade stayed firmly behind the boy as he flew forward, spinning and following suit. It managed to strike a tune in the wind. The tune was perfect. Perfect, and cut short as the aimless blade made contact with Kit's right elbow.
He did not realize. He did not realize because at this very same moment he realized something else instead. It was not boredom he had begun to feel the day after the siege.
It was guilt.
Edited by Yayakuza on Jan 6th 2023 at 10:12:45 AM
I am become dubstep, destroyer of taste
AKA Nixer
Lucy Livingston
"K-Khulan..." Lucy choked out, her manic eyes twitching towards her familiar friend as she watched her kneel, feeling their hands meet together. She gripped them tightly, holding onto her friend for security. It helped her resist her urge to scratch, at least. She'd never do it to someone else, after all. "Kh-Khulan... i-it's messing with our minds... I-I can't..."
She forced back a sob, pulling her hands away from Khulan's and covering her face with them instead. Her fingers clenched into her skin and hair, her breathing ragged as she tried to force herself to calm down. She couldn't. She didn't know why she even expected herself to calm down after all that.
"I-I can't do this anymore... I-I... don't wanna live..."
She barely even mumbled that last part out. She didn't want to admit it. But it was true, and she trusted Khulan with her life. Now that it was out of her, she felt the strength return to her body just enough to make her sit up, and after blinking away her tears she threw herself on Khulan in a hug.
"W-We need to help them. T-Track wh-whoever did this down. It's hurting us... th-think what it's doing t-to all those people. W-We need to stop this..." she muffled into Khulan's shoulder, before pulling back enough for Khulan to see her face. It wasn't a pretty sight with the drying blood running down her cheeks and the burn marks that were framing her temples. She looked disoriented, barely conscious, only awake by sheer force of will and emotion.
She seemed to know this, too, taking Khulan's hand again and squeezing it.
"I-I think I'm dying. N-Not... badly, but... I-I burnt up on the track. I-I'm running on... f-fumes. I-I'm scared if I fall asleep I-I might not wake up again..." she admitted, though by this point her anxiety was kicking in and she didn't actually know how severe her state was. "I-I can't fight anymore... if I do I might make it worse. Wh-What do I do...?"
The explosion from the track caused her to gasp and flinch, covering her ears with both of her hands as she began to shiver again. She was terrified, and without the security of her powers to defend her she didn't have any way of comforting herself. Everything that was happening suddenly became a lot scarier when she knew that she was just a normal person at that moment. Well, a normal person with a burnt brain.
Edited by Enirboreh on Jan 7th 2023 at 1:13:51 PM
bork
Tell Me, Have You Seen the Yellow Sign?
Khulan *!!!!*
"Kh-Khulan... i-it's messing with our minds... I-I can't..."Oh. Ohhhh. In the moment, the weird behavior that Khulan had taken on a stride had been an evil something she'd completely failed to detect. All wrapped up in all that kayfabe. Will reckon with that later.
Khulan took Lucy in her arms instantly. But now she breathed and took her time. It took some effort not to just leap when her blood seemed to scream at her to jump down and do something, but she was doing something. Actually observing the crowd and the field and even thinking back to hearing Saint, very un-saintly frothing at the mouth. Oh, it sounds alot like we're on our own... Light Bulb!
"Forget the bad guy for now," Khulan answered finally, her own voice even for the first time all day. Not normally, the best way to stop the harm, but she had no idea who that was and everywhere was heading to disaster.
"What you do is hang on. You're hitching a ride with me, because I'm not leaving you here with no help. And we're going to interrupt Laurie's make-out session." The therapist could affect emotions herself. She'd told the class. If anyone could come up with a massive counter to this. And not like she could knock sense into the Saint and all the teachers for help. Please god, let this be a good idea. A million things going wrong ran through her head, but she betrayed none of it in her well, practiced hero in a crisis voice. Kayfabe.
"Sorry," Khulan didn't actually ask before turning around and hoisting Lucy on her back. "I want you to live, so I'm getting you out of here with everyone." She shrugged. "Call me selfish. Don't worry about fighting or taxing yourself. I got this." Literally have never run through a crowd of crazed people, including herself, to try a long shot plan that depended on releasing a teacher from emotion control—that no one had ever taught her to do—for said teacher to cure mass emotion control, which she'd never seen that teacher do. Right. Here we go!
Khulan could have leapt, but she had a Lucy, and so she fixed a line to the overhang and lowered herself down. Then straight for Laurie. She wouldn't bother calling the therapist's name. She'd start with a slap. It worked in the movies.
Edited by CenturyEye on Jan 8th 2023 at 4:00:29 AM
Look with century eyes... With our backs to the arch And the wreck of our kind We will stare straight ahead For the rest of our lives
Surrounded by weirdoes
"Shit, this is getting out of control," Sam said, as things got even uglier, in this big ass outright riot. He needed to do something, even if he had to knock away as many of them as far as possible. This isn't a situation where he felt right using too much force, and he really would like to avoid hurting anyone too badly.
Wait a minute... He thought. His dad has a trick for this. He could only hope he could pull it off.
His arms raised, as the wind and snow picked up, surrounding as many people as he could, even forming a circle around anyone. There was something odd about the crystals, flashing quickly as they reflected the sun again and again.
"Sleep" He commanded. He knew this was a long shot, he had mainly seen this as a way to deal with sleepless nights but as it was, it was about as much as he could do to handle this whole mess.
Wake me up at your own risk.
Fwomph
Bea :> Influence Abating
She should have known that he had transcended mortal limitations, even beyond just grace from this harrowing miasma the Interceptor was simply legendary in a way flesh could never match... Bea spent a few moments in this mire of a thought before replying.
"Y-yes sir."
Without another word she forced one foot in front of each other and kicked her powers into gear to just run from this terrible situation to seek out another perfect machine who could fix things. While Bea had managed to get out of range enough to not be afflicted by debilitating flashbacks, her mind was still flooding with thoughts of how useless she was; not just now, but always. She failed to protect those she cared about, failed to fix anything and now everything was going wrong again and she could do nothing except run to find someone else.
"... Will I even be able to stop my own timeline..?"
She slowed a bit, but never to a stop, as she headed for the classrooms to look for Armada.
"Armada! There is a mass hysteria out there! Interceptor sent me to have you summon something but he did not finish the thought!"
It's clearly a case of backroom political albumizing.
Liam - Accidentally Avoided Calamity
Liam was still in the race - not even noticing the slightest thing was wrong. Still thinking about that demoness, and the potential of winning this race. Of what that would mean for him and getting to live it up...and then, he could start to see some pretty big robots off in the distance. Far off there. Looking like they were the first intimidating actual obstacle in the race. He started to get ready - those things could be seen from far off, so up close...!
He never exactly got the chance to formulate a plan.
Liam was blown back a bit, catching himself on a net of threads deployed by his glove, and in the distance he could see something. It looked like a tremendous explosion slowly blooming upwards. Like a perverse sort of flower. Knowing what was likely to be coming, Liam formed a further shield around himself of Regalia - just in time for the shockwaves racing outward to crash over him, pressing his shielded form against the ground.
Even as the many other racers who were coming up on the area were thrown head over heels and into the air. Liam grit his teeth as he kept his shield up even in the face of the force being exerted on the pentagonal forcefield surrounding him. He could numerous screams around him - of people who blazed ahead even though they saw Liam shielding up.
And he heard their forms being lifted and thrown, battered by galeforce winds, let alone what might've happened to those who got further ahead.
By the time the shockwaves were done, Liam was left standing on the one remaining bit of green grassy raceway. The rest had all been torn up, and thrown - devastated by whatever unholy weapon had detonated ahead. The air was thick with residue and dust, slowly settling.
"Holy shit..." Liam murmured.
At that moment he'd been sobered up. No longer feeling quite so invincible. More like just lucky. When he was sure it was safe, he kept moving, covering his mouth just to be sure. Walking through the desolation, he could see what looked like a crater where the impact site seemed to be off in the distance.
He couldn't hear any other racers still moving. He hoped for the best but damn if he wasn't spooked. Considering they were all moving with and using powers, maybe they banded together to just get outta dodge and escape the blast site. Maybe.
Sign on for this After The End Fantasy RP.
Edgar like a kid in a candy store
Joyfully smiling Edgar was just absolutely pulverizing whoever was in front of him simple kicks to the legs became kicks to the stomach or back, punches to the face became even harder and he stopped being a menace now he was dangerous, even those far from his onslaught wouldn't be so safe as the mist he creates spread further and with it, its discombobulating effects reach more victims. Despite his savagery and gleeful attacks, something very deep in his mind prevented him from taking a life.
And then his stomach grumbled...
The amount of mist created used up all his reserves and now he was feeling quite hungry. Stopping his onslaught, he started eating up the track.
Fancy That
While the culprit had not remained on the scene in the open or even in the same vicinity, the effects of his attack could be felt even now. While no further emotion related attacks occurred, the existent ones remained - and bore down.
Being that they were all in a more or less psychotic state - some more vocal than others - the attempt by Sam to put them into more of a sleep-like state didn't exactly take. If anything however, the glimmering crystals further exacerbated the mood of the scene. The mob was mere moments from swarming the heroes-in-training, their aggression only stymied by the sudden involvement of the accountant.
He was as if an island of order in a sea of chaos and madness. Some of the people in the crowd promptly responded to his inquiry if they were men or beasts...by screaming, waving their weapon, and ranting unintelligibly. A psychotic break was a hell of a thing.
But among them, for better and for worse, the most coherent of the group was indeed the designated leader. The red-head leader of the mob pointed his improvised club at the group gathered in the middle. He demanded, eyes wide, "Give me the witch and the demon. They have to answer for their crimes. We know, we saw, the satanic crime they committed. We must make them answer for it!!" He then shouted more to his crowd than to anything else, "Isaiah 3:11 - Woe to the wicked! It will go badly with him, For what he deserves will be done to him!! So sayeth the Lord!"
The crowd inched closer inward, but did not yet critically close distance.
Sign on for this After The End Fantasy RP.
Deranged X-Mas Figure
Racetracks/Sue
"Perhaps you didn't hear me. Sit down and keep your mouths shut! If you won't listen to reason, then—"
And then the word stood still.
Far in the distance, the accountant could see it. Everyone could see it. A burning mushroom cloud, shooting up like a bat out of hell. It was like nothing they'd ever seen, certainly not in person. The blast itself wasn't destructive, but the imagery it invoked was unmistakable. It shook the students to their core, all who witnessed it, bringing them to their senses. They were dazed, stumbling around in confusion, but they wouldn't cause any trouble.
But those close to the blast weren't so lucky. They could see it. They could feel it. Could feel the shockwaves pounding their skin, crushing their bones, blasting them across the field. They lay on the tracks, writhing in agony. It was a miracle no one was killed, but they needed help and needed it now. Or else such a miracle would be moot.
Those who couldn't see it were still causing mischief. Digging up the grass, streaking across the fields, painting the stands red. Anything that popped in their heads. There were fewer of them now, but it was enough to be a problem. Even the teachers weren't immune. Laurie and the Nurse were down on the bleachers, half-dressed, making out like a pair of animals. They rolled around, tossed and turned, oblivious to anything else. They were in the throes of passion and nothing could break them from their spell.
And then Khulan smacked them in the face.
Laurie sat up. She looked around, her senses slowly returning. "Oh dear! I'm afraid I must have dozed off. I had the most wonderful dream..."
In the skies above, the demoness took to the air. She unfolded her wings, barreling towards Mikael like a missile. What little sense she had slowed her descent, but she was too incensed. She roared like a beast, soaring towards her prey, not sure whether to kill it or kiss it. Only to be blown away. The shockwave reached the clouds, spreading out, swatting the demons like gnats. Neither was injured, but it was enough to bring them to their senses.
But it wasn't the only attraction. A big grey mass fell between them, plummeting towards the ground. It was hard to make out, but they could see it. It was the Saint, falling to Earth like a comet. A fuzzy blur shot after him, past Mikael, gripping her Nimbus tight. She was focused, hot on his tail, no mercy or remorse. How his sister held her own was anyone's guess, but she was accomplishing the impossible.
The Saint would fall in the middle of the course, landing in front of Edgar and stopping him in his tracks. Whether it would ease his hunger was impossible to say.
Bea didn't have to search long. As soon as she opened the doors to the Academy, there she was. She was dressed in a form-fitting tracksuit, dressed for the occasion, but she still carried her trusty tool belt.
"Oh, goodness gracious! Are you quite alright, young lady? You appear to be in a state..."
Doctor Who — Long Way Around: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13536044/1/Doctor-Who-Long-Way-Around
Wacky Races - Champion Time
"I got it!!" Khulan's side-quest started with three words. Lucy and Libitina could represent in the race till she could get there with them. But getting the locker room in order was up to the Champion aaand, she didn't need Saint coming down here in her territory. And it was a challenge! She felt like she could just act by instinct. Superhero instincts! Whatever was wrong, she could deal with it!
She couldn't go for all the ones running. She just caught two on webs and yanked them back. And then recycled the webs into a nice whip. Crack! "Get. Go on. Everyone over the finish line! We got representing to do!" She only cracked the homemade whip over them twice. Pour encourager les autres. It wasn't a heel thing. It was tough, babyface love.
Third, one kissing couple that she got with one string. She flung them towards the stands in general and Kat specifically. 'I mean get it together, coach. You're embarrassing me.'' A second later, Khulan registered that she'd launched two students toward the coach. Gotta go! "Getting everyone across the finish line, Saint!"
Khulan shot a web pulled it taut and launched herself, hitting ground, and immediately springing into the next leap. Jumping spider style go! She super skipped her way across the track and into the pack. The ones shoved down she left, because they could get back up. The ones hit by lasers she web-snagged without breaking stride, carried them for a bit, then, during the airborne part of her leaps, wound up and threw them forward. "It's not against the rules," she shouted to one. "You'll land." She didn't actually know that, but Sue was flying just low, so there had to be wiggle room. Look with century eyes... With our backs to the arch And the wreck of our kind We will stare straight ahead For the rest of our lives