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Post by schrodinger on Jun 24, 2010 2:14:07 GMT 8
Faranella had entered the dropship, and though her shield over the area remained, Venser took it as an ill omen. Given that the point of a dropship was to transport its passengers to other locations, and he wasn't confident in Faranella's ability to maintain her shield over long distances (that took no little degree of skill in spellwork), he felt that his current position was not an enviable one at all.
Oh well. Adopt, adapt, improve. What did he have to work with? A torrent of lacerating lifeblood cascading ceaselessly about him, held at bay only by the tenuous golden barrier that was contingent upon Faranella's presence. Wait. Something else. There was something in the water...
Why hello there, lover. Fancy meeting you in a place like this.
There must have been magic in the air, for he could feel it singing now, a siren call to him in tones of crystal clarity, cutting through the dull susurration of blood pelting the ground. No. Not in the air. In the rain?
Ah...
It was Sierra's influence, no doubt. He was familiar with her usage of water magic now, as a result of having worked... closely with her in the past. A good move, acting to dilute any harmful properties the unnatural bloodfall might have had. Of course, he had his own ends in mind for the infusion of magic in the atmosphere.
Focusing more intensely on his personal sphere of influence, he stepped out from the cover of Faranella's shield, and into the downpour.
Come, then.
As each scarlet particle neared him, it came to a halt, levitating in place, held in suspension by him. Pushing back against them in his mind, he established an area of clear space around him, blood sluicing off the invisible but inviolable wall of his will.
I will not be sullied by the likes of you, vermin. For your crimes and for your presumption, there is only one verdict.
But he held it within himself, savoring the word and its manifold implications. And as he made his way to the dropship, he not notice the shadow that had encroached upon his person growing.
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Post by RaineScarlet on Jun 27, 2010 9:33:23 GMT 8
I am happy to hear your response. Thank you. Sierra breathed out the last of her song. And not a moment too soon, it seemed. The aircraft had arrived, and everyone was running aboard. She had to go too.
One step. Her vision blurred. What..? She tried taking some more steps, and then found herself on her knees. Stray daggers of blood cut at her bare skin and created thin gashes just as rejuvenating rain washed against her wounds. It was a sickening process of damage and healing. But that wasn't why.
The magic made me dizzy. Can I ... not control it?
The idea was horrifying, but made sense. Her new vessel hadn't seen much contact with the spirits. She wasn't used to the magic that coursed through her body with each song she would sing.
Sierra lifted her head. The aircraft was still some distance away. I need to go. She ground her teeth and flexed her fingers like a doll-master would. Thin wires of liquid twined around her limbs, helped along by the rain, and raised her body up from the ground. If I can just make it there, then I can take a rest...
She took a breath, and flung her body towards the opening of the aircraft. Whether she made it or not, she wouldn't know until much later--she had already lost consciousness.
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Post by Mathus on Jun 28, 2010 19:52:26 GMT 8
A rain of blood, for some reason this is extremely nostalgic.
Sol walked to the aircraft, untouched by the bloody assault as if it's purposely avoiding him, noticing that Sierra had failed to climb on-board, he levitate her inside.
I can't just leave a wounded ally to die out here, can I?
But as he was about to climb on, he was interrupted by a voice.
'Halt! I'll be taking over your body for awhile.'
Sol felt that he lost control of his body and senses. Nothing but silence and darkness remains.
'!! What are you doing? Since when can you take over?'
But no answer was given. The now possessed Sol walks away from the aircraft and muttered.
"Forge: Dragon Wings"
Huge black wings materialized from his back and he flew upwards, passing the clouds of blood. He then sprinkled powders made of mana.
"Blood rain: Dispel"
'Done, enjoy your trip.'
'Trip? What trip?'
Immediately, all traces of blood simply vanish and control returned back to Sol, who began to free-fall.
Woah, is this what he meant by trip? That bastard. Hm, what this? Since when do I have wings? Ugh, no time worry about it now, better find a way to make use of them before I die.
Using his new wings, he managed to soften his otherwise fatal landing.
'Hey you, what the hell did you just do? How did I get these wings? And how do I make them disappear? Hey, answer me!'
The voice never replied him, even though Sol knew that whatever had possess him is still there, lurking in the depths of his mind.
'Fine, I'll just get rid of them myself'
Since he can't make them disappear, he fold them and board the aircraft.
First, my hand exploded and I lost consciousness and now wings? Just what is going on with me? I need to get him to answer me somehow, but I doubt he had anything to do with the hand.
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Post by Phagetthree on Jul 5, 2010 23:44:29 GMT 8
The man with the exploding hand had also entered the kite, though not before performing a series of bizarre actions.
Growing dragon wings then flying out of sight, the rain of blood then mysteriously stopped.
He then touched down again, and climbed aboard.
His huge wings took up most of the cabin space, forcing the rest to be packed in a corner.
Faranella watched him from the corner of her eye while she dragged the unconscious team member who had healed her further into the cabin for safety.
How fragile a constitution, how will she fare against the enemy?
Placing her right gauntlet over her forehead, she uttered a small blessing, and a calming glow suffused itself over her, giving her peace.
Rest well for now, comrade. Your energies will be needed again.
Turning to the man again, she inquired. "Hello, how is your hand? I take it you're fully recovered now?"
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Post by schrodinger on Jul 7, 2010 3:22:46 GMT 8
Madre de Dios, what is this?
It never rains but it pours, they say, and Venser found that the adage struck a chord with him, even if it was in some ways malapropos of the current situation. So the rain had stopped. Not a big issue, he'd been dealing with it anyway, and had gone on going on. But when a fellow sprouts a pair of wings and strolls up to one without so much as batting an eyelid, one is inclined to wonder at his mental state.
It might have been ungrateful of him to demand an explanation, and perhaps miracles were best left unquestioned, but he chose to believe that this was most definitely not a miracle, because the alternative was to believe in a God who not only played dice, but also took the piss out of the other players. Well. If He worked in strange ways, Venser supposed that there was no stranger way in which to demonstrate His presence than this.
Sod it all. No explanation could possibly have been satisfactory in the face of all he'd seen (in the past 5 minutes, even), and even if it could have been, he very much doubted that it was going to come from the master of Unexpected Tricks with Body Parts (and not in the good way), who took no more notice of the extraneous limbs protruding from his body than if he'd had an inconvenient erection - that is to say, since he couldn't make them disappear, he intended to behave as though they weren't there. (A futile effort, as most people quickly realise.)
No, sometimes it was better to content oneself with the credo that Shit Happens, and turn one's head away from the bizarre world. There was a time for understanding, for the truth to be revealed for the edification of all, for explanations to be rendered to confusticated audiences. This was not it.
Sometimes when people of the homosexual persuasion 'come out', so to speak, in public, they are gawked at as though they've sprouted a new pair of wonderfully grotesque... body parts, for lack of a better term. It seemed only appropriate to follow the corollary to this principle. And so it was that Venser neatly sidestepped the elephant (or other strange and wonderful creature) in the room (strictly speaking, it didn't qualify as one, but for working purposes it was adequate) by embracing the time-tested method of dealing with awkward issues: Don't Ask, Don't Tell.
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Post by Mathus on Jul 7, 2010 13:48:11 GMT 8
"Hello, how is your hand? I take it you're fully recovered now?"
A question from the newly-added member of the party.
"It's fine, not exactly sure if it's for the better or the worse."
Sol showed her the glove with the jewel.
"And don't ask why I have wings as I don't even know why in the first place. Anyone mind telling me what I just did?"
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Post by NPC Controller on Jul 9, 2010 16:34:49 GMT 8
Jennifer Dagwood - 122th Air Hawks, VTT-01 T-122F "Blitz Regia"
Several dull thuds in the back and movement on her hold camera indicated that the 'precious cargo' had entered her hold - along with what seemed like several litres of miscellaneous bodily fluids. The one with the rifle, especially - she seemed to have taken a bath in the not-so-daily shower, complete with a freshened look of enlightenment on her face. Jessica made a mental note not to get too close to her.
She suddenly realised that the dullish sounds of life support substances hitting her aircraft had stopped. Wipers off, then.
The last one came in, and with a throw of the throttle, the Dragonfly once more roared to life. Reaching over to the intercom, Jessica addressed her 'precious cargo':
"Hey, you in the back with the wings and the armor, either fold those things up and sit down or fold those things up and stand against the wall. If you can't remember what you just did, it's split personality or you're really dumb. Wings sprouting from nowhere, just consider it a blessing - because, you know, some people need like, planes to fly."
She clicked off the button.
"Zero-zero-five, requesting takeoff."
"Roger, runway 02 is clear for takeoff. Good luck."
Taxiing onto the short runway, she pushed the craft all the way to full military power. Within moments, Blitz Regia was in the air, and heading for Port airspace.
"Well then, your decision, people? I've not much time before I have to decide on a route, now, so make it spiffy."
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Post by Phagetthree on Jul 10, 2010 0:02:43 GMT 8
"... Yes, it seems that you had grown those wings and stopped the rain of blood."
Indicating her hand, she continued.
"I have a similar problem, though not one as large as yours. Your glove doesn't seem to be linked to your wings, though, at least not to me. Perhaps you could ask Venser, he's far more knowledgeable than me and probably might have an ans-"
A loud voice made itself known within the confines of the beast, Faranella couldn't quite tell what it was saying at first, till she pulled off the apparatus on her head. But by then, the voice had nearly completed it's delivery, vanishing soon after.
"... your decision, people? I've not much time before I have to decide on a route, now, so make it spiffy."
Decision...? Ah, yes, the two missions!
Leaving Sol to his thoughts, she announced out loud to nobody in particular, simply expressing her opinion.
"I believe that we should carry out the rescue mission, first. Life is not something to be cast away deliberately when we have a choice."
Feet slightly apart, Faranella rested both gauntlets on the Soul Keeper's hilt, awaiting the thoughts of the others.
"Any objections?"
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Post by Mathus on Jul 10, 2010 22:18:26 GMT 8
Venser huh? Yes, he might just be able to get some answers from that guy.
"We could always split-up and do both missions, but that will definitely increase the risk factor. Either mission is fine with me. Though I doubt we can just waltz in unharmed with the other one."
Sol looked around the craft for a decent spot. After finding a spot at the back, he addressed Venser who seemed to be trying to ignore him.
"Excuse me Venser, but do you mind if I ask you to enter my mind and get some answers from, uh, someone or something about what's going on or at least how to operate this blasted glove? You're free to keep anything else you find to yourself though."
If he minds, then I guess I'll just have to find other means of knowing.
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Post by RaineScarlet on Jul 11, 2010 7:26:34 GMT 8
The Undine's spirit stirred thanks to an infusion of healing mana. Her vessel was still resting, but her spirit floated out in a glowing, aqua-colored cotton ball to observe the scene. It seemed as though she had made it into the drop ship after all, she observed with relief.
Faranella is standing by me. Was she the one who healed me..? How kind of her.
Sierra noted the rather strained atmosphere within the cabin, originating, no doubt, from Sol, who had somehow managed to sprout huge wings on his back. As if not taking the hint that Venser wanted nothing to do with Sol, he seemed to be making small talk with him.
He's so forward. How enticing.
As much as she would have liked to observe the budding relationship of the two male members of their group, she had more important things to tend to. She wanted to head to the port, which meant undertaking the mission at the Tea House. However, there was no way for her to voice those opinions without trying to re-enter her vessel. Sierra-the-cotton-ball, hovered anxiously around her vessel's shoulder, going over her limited options.
My vessel still needs a bit more rest before it'd be safe for me to return to it. But if I take too long. ...
The cotton ball drooped sadly.
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Post by schrodinger on Jul 19, 2010 0:20:33 GMT 8
There's just no rest for the useful, is there?
No sooner had Venser resolved to pay Sol as little attention as possible than the invincible ignoramus approached him with questions about his body. It was like being the parent of a child going through some sort of demonic puberty, only with none of the empathy and all of the awkward distaste.
He didn't think Sol quite appreciated what it meant to enter someone's mind, with or without their permission. More often than not, it was dangerous, both to him and the recipient, and even if he was absolutely sure about what he was doing, it was still best left as a - oh, to hell with it. If Sol wanted to be entered, it was up to Venser to... oblige him.
I must say I'm used to being solicited by the ladies... But this is the first time I've felt this way with a man.
"Alright. Take a seat. Relax. Things will go a lot smoother for the both of us if you don't resist me."
He closed his eyes, clearing his mind of all unnecessary distractions, of all errant thoughts and senses, until all he could see was the mind set before him, as if on a silver platter.
..A beautiful thing to waste.
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Post by Phagetthree on Jul 19, 2010 23:30:16 GMT 8
A single glance at Venser's face easily confirmed his disdain of Sol.
I hope I have not offended him by recommending Sol to him, I would hate to lose one of the only acquaintances I have made on this strange new realm.
Turning to look outside, the great beast carried the group over the forest way faster than any Toorox could have back home. It was truly a wondrous beast.
The treetops skimmed by as they made their way closer to the target destination. Faranella still dared not wield the Soul Keeper in both hands, wary that her corrupted hand might somehow spread its taint over to it. Forced to carry it in one hand, it took her considerably greater effort to heft it, even with the effects of her blessing.
I can only hope for a great miracle to deliver me from this mocking existence as a walking piece of irony. Truly, why was I cursed so?
The howling wind outside the transport provided her no answer nor respite from the growing discomfort within her psyche.
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Post by NPC Controller on Jul 26, 2010 21:48:07 GMT 8
Jennifer Dagwood - 122th Air Hawks, VTT-01 T-122F "Blitz Regia"
"Well then, if no one else has any objections, search and rescue it is."
Over the border, the dropship took a slight right, making a beeline for a location on the far side of a massive fortress. Blitz Regia was the only aerial vehicle for miles; almost instantly, massive balls of fire, ice, earth and whatever-have-you started to rain on their position.
"Out of the fire and straight into hell, just the way I like it. Sit tight, people!"
Jessica had not been selected by the President of New Technia herself for nothing. Tightening her grip on the controls, her eyes swept across the field, and she instantly saw a path through the falling mounds of certain death.
"Evasive maneuvers!"
The massive dropship, more agile than it first appeared, suddenly jinked, narrowly avoiding a massive ball of ice that came crashing down on top of a city block. Another swerve, and there went a massive orb of flame, which landed, rather unfortunately, in a large fountain, where it sizzled mournfully into nothing.
A small, purple-haired figure suddenly came up beside them, and gave a signal similar to sweeping one's palm over one's fist. Jessica flashed a thumbs-up.
"There's the cavalry. Heads up, people! This is what REAL magic looks like."
The girl, flying alongside, spread her arms, and from her outstretched hands sprung a massive blue sheen, covering almost five hundred metres across and above. It was a giant dome centred on Blitz Regia. The attacks splashed harmlessly across the light screen.
"When we touch down, get out quick. I don't want to be caught in one place too long - she's got enough power to hold the shield for barely a minute, just enough to get you into the building, with about five seconds to spare. Don't waste any time getting to cover. When you've got the VIP, give a call on this." Jessica threw a small device over to Faranella, who was closest to the cockpit.
"There's the hangar. Get ready guys. Three, two, one..."
The Dragonfly hit earth.
"Alright people, let's go, let's go!"
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Post by Phagetthree on Jul 27, 2010 23:41:23 GMT 8
Faranella fumbled as the apparent master of the beast tossed her a tiny item.
Barely catching it as she balanced the Soul Keeper on her forearm, she was informed of its function, but had no time to inquire about how to get it to work before they had to leave, and fast.
Thinking quick, she slung the Soul Keeper onto her back and hefted Sierra with her good arm.
"Come on, everyone! Let's go!"
As she ran out of the bay and towards the gaping maw of the target building, she fully realised her predicament.
I can't use my sword while holding her, dropping her suddenly might prove harmful, even with her superhuman characteristics, and my other arm is useless! I can only hope the others are close behind to provide support.
Rushing into the large, hollow structure, a quick glance showed her that there was no other soul in the area save the unconscious girl in her arm.
Laying Sierra down, she once again poured more healing energy into her, in hopes that she would awaken.
The others should be close behind, though I'm not sure if they're as steadfast as my comrades. Frederick...
She shook her head to clear the distraction, once again concentrating on reviving Sierra.
No! Such thoughts will prove disastrous. These are my new comrades now, all that I have in this strange world, I have no choice but to trust in them.
[OOC: Btw should move postings now from this thread to the Orlania thread. Just my 2 cents.]
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Post by Mathus on Jul 28, 2010 16:50:22 GMT 8
"Alright. Take a seat. Relax. Things will go a lot smoother for the both of us if you don't resist me."
Sol sat down, closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.
Resist huh? But how do I not resist if I don't even know how to resist, at least consciously. No, I must concentrate on not resisting. Do not resist. Do not resist. Do not resist. Is this even working? Maybe this was a bad idea in the first place.
The craft jerks occasionally, forcing Sol to look for something to hold, eventually it stops.
"Alright people, let's go, let's go!"
Great, perfect timing.
"Guess we'll have to postpone this 'session'."
Hopping off, he armed himself and rush after Faranella.
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Post by schrodinger on Jul 28, 2010 23:45:53 GMT 8
What a tease.
That was the way with the uninitiated - unsure of what they wanted, they wound up in sticky situations of their own making, all too often dragging in innocent bystanders, too. Venser was almost glad he didn't have to feel disappointed, as proceeding would have been as trying for him as turning away.
Sighing, he swept his fringe out of his eyes (it'd fallen down when he'd leaned forward, toward Sol. He thought it made him look suitably unsavory to the aforementioned uninitated upstart) and rose, following the rest of the group out of the transport.
Another cause for worry. Twisting a few strands of his hair between his fingers, the unsettling sensation of something being very wrong he'd had moments ago was renewed by its discoloration, like walking into one's own home to find it populated by walruses rather than furniture. Black. Darkest ebony. Why?
What's happening?
Wie geht's, liebchen?
Not good. What is this?
"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster."
"...And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you." Are you saying I did this to myself?
Think about your recent actions a little more carefully, paisan. Hardly the movements of a wholly balanced individual.
No, but that was... it was justified. Wasn't it?
Oh yes, they had to die. But above that, you wanted them dead. That your satisfaction should coincide with the "good" is a happy coincidence, nothing more.
But - but then...
What happens when that isn't the case? What happens when you see something else that you want badly? You could justify it. Lie to pretend that you don't serve your own interests over everything else. Who will you fool?
And for a long moment, even as he walked, he could not answer.
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