[02:30] Yuki Akatsuki says, ". . ."
[02:30] Yuki Akatsuki rubs at her ears. Her expression is rapidly souring.
(Yuki Akatsuki)


[02:30] Maria Malibu taps Yuki's shoulder, offering a swig of her flask of whiskey.
(Maria Malibu)


[02:30] Maria Malibu asks, "...?"
[02:30] Maria Malibu ponders, "You look upset. Is everything all right?"
[02:30] Yuki Akatsuki takes it, with a dip of her head. A quick sniff, paranoia demanding she check, before she takes a pull.
(Yuki Akatsuki)


[02:30] Eris Galius exclaims, "Mhm!"
[02:30] Yuki Akatsuki says, "Shit day, Maria. That's all."
[02:33] Eris Galius exclaims, "Woosh!"
[02:34] Maria happily gives the woman a swig. There was nothing to be afraid of. Merely a regular bottle of whiskey. A...high quality one, at that. One that she definitely had stolen from her mother's stash.

["Oh. I see. Well, that'll cheer you up. You can have the rest, if you want."] her thoughts echo into the Kitsune's. She shrugs, merely pulling out from her bag...another bottle of whiskey.

...Where did she get these things.

["Everyone says you don't smile much. I think it suits you, though."]

["...I know how it feels though. It...gets better, I think."] The girl doesn't elaborate. Simply shrugging as she watches the ongoing battle. Her eyes waver for a few moments, the hints of melancholy and sadness from years prior rearing it's ugly head.

It was good the alcohol made it go away, at least.

(Maria Malibu)
[02:42] True to form, the Kitsune had smiled once today. When she was burning down a forest in pursuit of a certain mage. Other than that? The best one could hope for was apathy at best.

Here? A hostile indifference. Little irritants here and there mounting, as Whispers snicker in her head. But, with the addition of some high quality spirits, the edge is taken off. She's still pissed, but a crisis was averted. How said booze couldn't solve problems?

"[You say that as if people talk about me,]" The small fox scoffs as she hands back the flask, "[This is about the only way I feel. So maybe you understand that, as well.]"

A raised brow, as her presumably free hands come to fold at her waist. Floating there, her tail sways left to right. An ear flits, still irritated from a certain screaming skurn. Her head was killing her still. Remnants of a disappointing resolution to one of her terrible rampages.

She sighed heavily, almost akin to a growl. Her eyes slowly close, as a moment passes. Then another, and another, until her hands come to her temples to rub at her headache. Just what she wanted.

"[You seem better at least,]" The snow fox notes, her eyes un-shuttered once more, "[And better, at your thoughts.]"

(Yuki Akatsuki)
[02:56] Flashes of anger radiate through Maria's psyche. It was held back, her rage still present, if not calmed. A desire for vengeance and redemption, still aching her heart.

Scars like those did not heal easily.

But time heals all wounds, even if it was slow.

Her mind was calmer now. It did not focus much on the past anymore. And when it did, it was almost always at the forefront of alcohol. A habit she had picked up fairly recently, the formation into a young adult naught but a week into the horizon.

...Has it been that long already?

The girl does give a smile to the Kitsune, nonetheless. She is calmed by her presence. A stoic demeanor and apathetic attitude did not halt Maria from wanting to get to know one of her 'heroes'. For she knew the heart they held. Even with their mistakes and regrets.

They held the same heart.

Booze couldn't solve problems. Nor could is solve emotions. But it didn't mean it was incapable of taking the edge off.

Just a little.

"Heh." she finds enjoyment in seeing Yuki relax. Nodding at their words as their psyche recuperates them. ["They do. Or...at least they did when I was a little younger."] she admits. She shrugs, taking a swig of her whiskey. She'd take small sips, cringing at the flavor.

Perhaps the little gunslinger wasn't used to it yet.

["Bad things. Rumors. The same things they talked about my family in the same breath. It hurts. But there were good things in there too. People like you...always inspired me, I guess."]

["Maybe I am wrong but...I suppose I see myself in you. Just...someone who doesn't fit in like everyone else. Who wants too. Who's...apathetic to everything. Or maybe I am thinking too hard."] the blonde scoffs, swiping away her hair from her face. A brief glance toward Yuki in adoration.

["But...I understand. Those feelings, I mean."]

She nods. The calmer thoughts of the Malibu were certainly favorable. If not only masking the more intense ones.

Perhaps a sign she was simply maturing.

["Thank you. I like to think that I've...moved on. Not entirely, but...as much as you can."]

"Mm." Maria nods, taking another swig of her drink. She coughs, taking a rather large gulp of that wooden, dark liquid. It burns her throat yet again. The warmth caressing her stomach.

It was as painful as it was pleasurable.

(Maria Malibu)
[03:10] A cant of her head, away from the Malibu. To look at her with a slightly downcast gaze, through the corner of her eye. A look of suspicion. After all, she could see those thoughts, then intense and the calm. See them, as well as hear them. Her ears flick, batting them away after she'd seen enough.

She already had her own demons the whisper in her ears. Something else wasn't going to help. Not when the edge was already removed. She'd like to keep it that way.

Bad things. Rumors. Hm.

"[There never really has been a good thing said about me,]" Her head rights, as she slowly float lower to be just above eye level with the other, "[Fitting in. No, I don't want to fit in with people. That would require changing who I am. What I am.

But, what you see in me, is something that everyone goes through in this shitty world. Some sort of loss. Some sort of betrayal. Some sort of personal Hel.

I'mjust one of the people that's going to burn it all down when I get the chance.]"

A pause, and then another. Her gaze shifts to the conversation behind her, then back to her own. The younger woman, an adult now, was similar to her in some ways. Different in others. Sadly, sharing similarities with this snow fox was inevitably a bad thing.

"[You conquered it, or are in the process of it. I did little more than see you to your home.]" Once again, her brand of 'humility' raised its head. Dissociation from others, for their actions were not her own, "[I will be resting soon. For what it was worth, it was good, to see you, Maria.]"

(Yuki Akatsuki)
[03:23] At least her anger was directed toward those who were 'evil'.

Yet in the wide array of people in this world, who was truly evil and who was not? What mattered besides one's own justice.

Maria didn't like those thoughts. The anger. The desire for redemption against those who had taken away her family. Of course those thoughts would never waver. But perhaps it was needed to light the fire in her heart.

["...Really? Well, I think you're cool. That's one good thing."] the young woman nonchalantly says. A smile graces her features, as if teasing the poor Kitsune. Still, did her thoughts linger with admiration for her. Her thoughts calm, now filled with a more tranquil train of thought.

["I see. So you don't mind who you are? You wouldn't change anything about yourself?"] The line of thought intrigues Maria. Had she been thinking too much about wanting to be someone else, she forgot who she was?

Her thoughts linger, pondering the notion.

Maybe she didn't have to fit in either.

["...I think I understand."]

"..."

Her anger, her thoughts. The loss in her heart, the selfsame emotions toiling in Maria's heart.

Sometimes the flame was good to have. The passion in your heart to push through the turmoil. But too much of flame?

It was no wonder why you might want to burn it all down.

Perhaps Maria had not suffered enough to think like that just yet. That there was still a path for her, some level of hope for her to cling too, as small as it was.

At least for now.

She turns to Yuki, canting her head with a curious gaze at her words. She seemed more concerned, if anything. The growl that would escape her lips, the lingering pause after her thoughts waver about 'burning it all down.'

Maria couldn't help but understand.

A part of her wanted to too.

...But was that really her? Did the pain and loss she feel warrant burning it all down and causing the same?

No, of course not.

Not to her, at least.

"..." She nods. Some level of realization is made. She didn't have to change who she was at least. Perhaps she wasn't meant to fit in like the others.

But that was okay.

She didn't have too, as long as she was who she was.

["Heh. No, you've done more for me than that. Most people...don't even talk to me, you know? They can't. I...I can't."] She smiles softly at the Kitsune. Even if they didn't know it, they shared similarities. As many did they share the same, did they share differences. Maria seeing it potent in her eye.

Nevertheless, she appreciated her. Not everyone can talk to her like this. Having another just speak to her and allow herself to comb through her thoughts. It was a luxury for the Malibu.

["You too, Yuki. Rest well."]

With that, she waves off the snow fox with a gentle smile and wave. Bowing lightly, before seeing them on their way.

Her thoughts still pondering, yet now caught in a calmer brow.

A hope that someday, Yuki too, will find what she was looking for. Just the same as herself.
(Maria Malibu)


[03:26] Meri Emeraldi exclaims, "I think it's about time for bed, though!"
[23:30]
{Character Loaded, IC Year: 2131}
[23:32] Tiil says, "..."
[23:48] It would seem the issue regarding that lesser kin of the demonic, was quite handled. Seeing at not only was his Captain there, but so many others to occupy that wretches time. Though, while everyone seemingly stood out in the open, at one of Meranthe's hot spots, more and more would others have passed by.

One such that Buster would have caught a whiff towards, was a foul odor. It wreaked a foul necrotic.

"My my..."

Revolvers not yet drawn, yet he'd make a rather hasty pursuit. When they tried running? Buster would cause the ground beneath their feet to rupture. They would become staggered, unable to move within that moment. Enough of a moment for the Busterlamb to have caught up.

"Fancy seein' ya' again. Though 'course,this is a rather populated area. Where's yer brother?", he'd ask.
(B. Busterlamb)


[23:48] Thunder rolled across the sky as blue and red lights flash across the landscape. Then it started to rain. Maybe even his lord new what was coming. Maybe he knew what this day had brought. Yet it would not stop his chosen. His wrath reborn in flesh.

The thunder shot down as magics were traded between the two. His form slowly cut and impaled with crystals over and over till he seemed more like a tattered cloth. Yet each blow was returned. Shadows striking as lighting chased them down.

The battlefield slowly turning into a muddy mess around them as the rain poured. Yet in the final moments of the fight he came out on top. Lighting struck her down. Yet as it struck her its as if her body reacted. The Part of the occult fueled lighting was captured in a crystal as it stuck out of her side. The lighting bouncing around inside as it tried to escape. Yet over the next few moments it was eventually stopped.

"You did well...yet I still won....even if it was close." a deep breath as he turned to leave. His body injured yet still prepared to continue. His body slowly starting to heal the best it could yet never enough to full recover. His body still torn and bleeding as the rain continued.

"I will see you again. And Judge you once more. But till then grow and become stronger."
(Sabrathi-el)


[23:50] Ah...

The winter season was almost ended, Dathea could feel the warmth of spring trying so desperately to break through. And yet, for as long as that frigid chill clung to the air? It was the time of the Winter Wolf,

The time of the hunt.

Normally, she was willing to give demons the benefit of the doubt - after all, demons were just as natural a creation of the world as they were... Even if their intentions were so often far more sinister. Some even proved they were more than destructive beasts, if Gloomlight and their efforts were to be believed.

Yet faced with watching them attack Iridescence?

Varatha was drawn in casual manner, the Ookami leaning upon it well out of the way of their fight. She'd offer no help during it - wounds accumulated in one's own personal hunt were to be worn well.

But when it was over, when the demon had torn into them, wounded them so? Hazel hues set in a harsh stare. "My final clash for the Ode to Death. Make it fun, demon." She muttered, striding forth to engage - simultaneously to fight the demon proper...

And provide distraction enough for the injured woman to get a chance to be pulled free, or do so for herself.
(Dathea)


[23:51] An interesting display.

This was what was echoing in the distance? The novice gunslinger finds herself intrigued, simply watching alongside the plethora of others that had decided that the show was also intriguing.

She leans against a nearby tree, crossing her arms and watching the events with a curious gaze.

Some familiar faces caught in her eye.

"..."
(Maria Malibu)


[23:53] Oh how fun.

Their frolicking is stopped by Busterlambs manipulation of the ground. The hooligan looking at them from beneath their mask. Before laughing at the question.

" HEY MAN. I JUST GOT FINISHED ROBBING FOUR PEOPLE- NOT TO MENTION I JUST MADE A CHILD STAB THEMSELVES. " They proclaim proud of their heinous deeds.

"It doesn't matter where my brother is. Most likely being empowered further by my lord."

"While I'm out here doing as I please. Finding more and more challenges. Conquering them or failing too- Growing as man does."

"It's wonderful. So what you should really be asking is how I'm doing. But you don't have to ask I'm going to tell you anyways."

"Anyways. When you wake up from your nightmares mister hero? Do you hear their screams? I assume such because you took such a brave stand against my kin as they blinded one of your own." They jest grinding their skeletal digits against each other before their stave bursts forth from their now bile dripping chest.

As they take it out and hold it. "Second question. Do you want more screams to hear when you slumber? "
(Bronx Hel Myst)


[23:54] Maria Malibu says, "..."
[23:54] Maria Malibu flicks her brow, eyes caught at the Myst's ramblings. And toward the familiar hero, of course.
(Maria Malibu)


[23:57] Defeat met her form yet again, nothing had changed, it was like a mirror yet again, as she was struck down in nearly the same manner, harsher this time, unable to escape the larger, stronger demonic form before her.

While she too had grown, it only made the clash more volatile for the both of them, her crystals bore too fragile to take the lightening directly now. While she could block and deflect, accelerating like skating on ice to keep the fight going.

She herself did not believe it was close as the demon did, but perhaps it was her cold nature that made it so, as she felt her body fail yet again.

Visible cracks began to form in the girls body, she did not fall in pain, yet her body looked like it would shatter like ice.

"Defeat...this formation would say it tasted bitter yet...it only reeks of...salt."

A joke? or perhaps simply an oddity, regardless, she was given reprieve, picking her fractured form off the ground, a shard visibly implanted into her form. She limped away, cold eyes fiercely staring ahead.

Stronger, stronger she would have to be, faster and faster. Yet crystals only blossomed so fast, ice only frosted at certain times.

"enduring strength...constant growth...it will be done."

She vowed. using Dathea's distraction to vacate the immediate area of the demon.
(Iridescence)
[00:01] Buster would glance towards his right momentarily. It would seem Dathea was stepping up to the plate first in regards to that demon.

A shame, he really wished Weiss would have taken more of an initiative. Still, they held their post, which Buster couldn't be more proud of. After this moment, his eyes would linger back unto the Hel Myst.

"Ya' think I give a shit?", he'd say in response to this undeads heinous deeds. Though upon the mentioning of their brother being empowered by their lord, Buster would chuckle some. "Oh?"

"Well that's a shame, figured they'd be burned by now. Seemed that headache I gave em' did nothin' t' truly hinder their resolve. Regardless..."

He'd flick some ashes upon the ground after Bronx's flashy display of them conjuring forth a staff.
"Yer not whom I'm aimin' for anyhow. There's bigger fish t' fry afterall. Captain Weiss, ya' know what t' do with this one."
(B. Busterlamb)


[00:01] Bronx Hel Myst says, "AHHA YES."
[00:01] Bronx Hel Myst says, "SEND YOUR MEN."
[00:01] Bronx Hel Myst says, "PLEASE."
[00:01] Moving to leave his body torn and bleeding yet he was stopped. But deep down he didn't know he would be allowed to leave. Yet. He enjoyed it. More to Judge as his lord willed it.

His gaze met the woman's own and he just prepared himself. His body moving to strike as the woman approached.

"More to Judge as the lord wills it. So be it. Then I shall let his Wrath guide me." His hand moves as he lunges forward shadows flowing from his body as the sky rumbles. Red and blue lights flashing across the now muddy field that has been made. Yet this muddy field would be their battle ground. The place where he makes a stand versus all that seek to challenge him this night.

TONGIHT THE LORDS WRATH WOULD DINE AND BLEED UPON THOSE HE JUDGES
(Sabrathi-el)


[00:01] Bronx Hel Myst says, "I'll BE GENTLE."
[00:01] B. Busterlamb says, "One of em' already beat ya' ass once."
[00:01] B. Busterlamb says, "I'd stop talkin'."
[00:02] Bronx Hel Myst says, "For something so well versed in existence. You are so naive. "
[00:02] Bronx Hel Myst says, "I crave the challenge."
[00:08] And of course....

The rabbit would find his luck...

Running out.

Still, there was one reason more than another for the hare to begin drawing that blade of his. A deep breath escapes him as he ponders upon nothing at all within that head of his.

For, his mind had been made up already under the pretense that was the most recent clash between magi and fel that'd bring him a deal of both certainty and uncertainty.

It were a battle that Weiss had given a silent observation of from start to end, gaining an insight upon the demon and what it seemed to be attuned to. Analyzed to a point, but before he made a move?

The Ookami would draw closer to the fel with that of their 'hunt', and eventually ears twitch again as the bunny's name sounds off loudly.

A breath of air escapes him as he gives himself a moment to process it only to about-face and set sight onto that of an Undead he'd seen once before in another setting.

There aren't any words uttered by the scarf-enjoyer as he'd gradually make his way over to that of the Hel Myst. His short-sword grasped gently and then ushered forward in that of no more than sleight of hand.

Of course, he'd offer the undead time for preparation. He was unlike most, and for better or worse? Honor was the hare's flaw. Thus, no immediate attack was made. Not until Bronx was 'ready' and full-well under the notion an expedition between the two was imminent.
(Weiss)


[00:18] B. Busterlamb whispers to Maria Malibu: Seems you've kept that gun afterall...
[00:19] Maria Malibu tilts her head, smirking lightly. She nods, tapping the pistol at her hip.
(Maria Malibu)


[00:20] B. Busterlamb whispers to Maria Malibu: Seems you've not let th' worse of life hold ya' back from yer passion.
[00:35] Difficult.

The first thought that Dathea had when engaging with Sabrathi-el, unsure how to simply catch the demon. The wolf was one whom played games of hit and run, and wasn't oft used to having the tables turned upon her in such a manner.

A discordant cacophony followed the demon as they fought, a near-incomprehensible melody of screeching sound and feral howling. It was the hunt personified, as if it was being assailed on all sides by an army of invisible wolves.

The chaos of Saekanis brought to the fore.

Pain could be ignored, the electricity coursing through her body might as well have not been felt - though the body could not ignore the physical effects so easily. Claws twitched, and were she not held aloft in flight, more than once the Ookami would've tumbled to the ground in a pile.

Weakness inflicted by occultic curses? Less easily ignored.

Epiphany came as she suddenly understood how to battle the demon, how to best it. Not to chase so mindlessly--

Bait, and strike as it struck at her.

Dashing forth like so many strikes before, Dathea clove forth with Varatha, her Arcanium spear cleaving with enough force to fell a tree in a single swipe were it to land, only for her to witness the demon vanish before her eyes in flickering shadows, pain radiating from behind as claws rent through mithril reinforced clothing.

Yet the strike did not halt, a near-feral grin plastered to the huntresses visage as she continued the twirl, spinning with agility impossible for those anchored to the earth, cleaving into Sabrathi-el with catastrophic force, from shoulder to waist.

Darting forth with wind-force gale, the Ookami did something perhaps unexpected, retrieving a phial from her hip. While the demon was left helpless for scant moments, she took her opportunity, harvesting blood from the open wound, gathering it in a rune-lined container.

Before leaning close, whispering something to the felled demon - and giving it the chance for surprise, for flight.
(Dathea)


[00:52] Abilis whispers something.
[00:54] B. Busterlamb whispers something.
[00:54] B. Busterlamb whispers something.
[00:55] The storm roared as he clashed with them. Sliding in and out of the shadows as lighting rained down onto his opponent. Yet they both fought in a way that had dodging each other.

The sound that followed him always making him check his back. Often times turning to check to see if something would attack from behind. The howls playing all around him.

Her attacks tearing his body apart. The searing winds cutting him to pieces and the flames burning him over and over. Cuts and burns covered his body as he fought. Yet he pushed through the best he could. But often he found himself stumbling and tripping over his own movements. His body was slowly giving out on him.

Yet he attacked with purpose. Each strike measured and assured. His ego slowly growing as he saw victory in his grasp. He was close and he could feel it. He could tell his lighting and his occult magic slowly effecting her. Both in body and mind.

Appearing and striking he then would disappear. Again. Again. Again. He kept going more and more as the sky above shook with red lighting. Then as he disappeared and reappeared again his shadows forming a claw as it came down on them all to end it. In that instance he felt pain again.

His strike never hit. As his hand neared her she would strike. His body being cut and sliced as she cleaved through his body. The shoulder destroyed as it now had a cut deep and down to his waist.

The lighting struck as he fell to the floor. His body finally giving out in this moment. The battle had rendered him to hurt for the moment. Between the winds and fire constantly tearing down his body and now the final attack. It left him beaten.

As he laid there he watched her get closer. His anger rising as he tries to move yet he was unable to. His body wouldn't let him. Yet she didn't do more instead just gathering blood. The idea confusing him but he starts to move forcing himself only to hear a voice in his ear. The words that followed ignited a fire in him.

And with a flash of lighting he slips away into the shadows and retreats. No words shared instead he left silently to think. To prepare.
(Sabrathi-el)


[00:57] The battle commences...

Time is manipulated in motion at the very moment Bronx goes for their attempted swing of their weapon. Something was thought, time was necessary. An idea to be had, uncertainty to garner his mental, words he didn't have...

Time.

Time again.

As the staff makes way to connect with that of a blade, all that'd ensue between the metaphysically inclined swordsman, the combined theory of water and electricity, and lastly...

the cunning hare's thoughts that never escaped him throughout each landed blow from either side. Tagged times aplenty by shocks and jolts that burned away a bit more noticeably on the clothes and skin as water clung to him for greater impact.

Still, no wave of impact had been as horrific a blow with enough the force to forfeit any of the bunny's call to response.

All it took was the initiation of their sequence in combat from the beginning for the Lapine to see the lines again. The windows that pulled him to and fro as chronomancy had given him both a blessing and curse to see those threads. Each of which ended in the Undead's favor. Many windows harboring different points in the fight based on the alterations aplenty. Each leave find conclusions where the rabbit had fallen or worse.---died on scene.

Breaking away from one of the many multi-exchanges, Weiss finds distance and keeps the Undead at bay. All the while, reaching his non-dominant hand backwards and into that backpack of his-- a side pocket to be exact.

All it took would be a closing of the eyes for all which could be seen prior to disappear. Left in the dark, the Hare couldn't rely on what was 'fate' or what the timestream wanted him to believe.

Whatever he grabbed? It was too quick to tell, but after having done so he backpedals no longer and awaits the very moment Bronx pump-fakes and lunges in again.

Only then would the immediate area around them come to a slow-streaming transition as the Hel Myst darted right on past the Lapine with that staff of theirs effectively finishing the motion of their attack.

Yet, it weren't any different at all. Nope, no different than the swing they'd made at the beginning of their fight. A staff being swung as if it were a bat.

Right on through, Bronx would phase past him as if Weiss weren't even there only for the Undead to soon meet ends of their battle in a collapse as he falls to the ground and four coins lay beside him. The sound of such coin would be the end-point at which the altered time would fix itself and what was amiss would be no longer.

Heads, in the favor of three. There's no indicator of what it means beyond, "Unfortunately, the path ahead for you.....it's going to be easy." He'd told them. Though, what about it would be easy?

That much is not elaborated on at all as he sheathes that blade ofhis and drops his stance with a huff. It'd seemed manipulating time, and that of divination would cause strain and exhaust beyond what he'd thought.

With a wobble of step, the bunny keeps himself standing albeit with a lack there of full balance.
(Weiss)


[01:19] The zombie's win streak ended here it seemed. Against a foe much stronger then them however- Even amongst the distortion of time they fought as they manipulated the winds and a putrid condensation within the air...

They still put forth effort to crush the skull of Weiss. Doing their best to feint and maneuver around the quick rabbit. Finding it difficult to deal with the overwhelming distortion of the timestream.

It was as if they were fighting their master when it came to Weiss and his mastery of it.

Only for all of it to become incomprehensible. As the apex is reached and that initial swing is relieved only for a blade to pierce them. Casing them to freeze in place for a moment.

Utter confusion befalling them. The undead defeated yet standing still in a solemn manner. Only for that overcharge in their rotting circuitry to vividly shine from within them in a bright verdant light show. The Undead groaning in that sweet sensation of pain. Something they longed to feel for so long.

"I was spawned by Infernal Rite.
Eternal night.
Neurons fire when I violate, I bring doom and defile life.
But I need your carrion. So I may carry on." They were unable to move properly as they speak such words. Only capable of moving their lips beneath the mask. The rotting flesh doing it's best to move those withering tendons which held it's jaw beneath it to utter words. The sounds of the squelching and snapping of muscles in all areas of their body audible to all of those around.

Until- In a stubborn manner. Do they seek to spite that which sought to predict their own selfish manifest destiny. A withering skeletal hand slowly crumbling to dust ripping at the cloth in which they wore revealing organs in their midsection beyond repair.

" You can't break me. You can't remove me From this coil. You speak of an easy path? But all I know is AGONIZING. DAMNED to watch the masses fall. Everything I do is in a struggle uphill to consume your carrion. So I may become whole again." Intestines unravel as they rip them outwards leaking bile unto the ground beneath them. Those withering appendages on their hand becoming more and more useless as fracture occur in real time. However an emerald hourglass amongst many other runes can be seen in the odd aftermath in the perpetual blow lost at the end of time. Glowing brighter and brighter as it does its best to bind the falling snowfall of flesh upon the ground back to the undead.

And in that moment. The necromantic superiority of their master can be seen as the essence of undeath they had collected in their long binder of vicious attacks in the wild begins to unfurl their very existence in a moment. That same damaged mangled circuitry only visible due to the leylines forcefully exerted by Weiss as it begins to piece it all back together.

Eventually as that verdant glow fades the undead can be seen standing once more in a more relaxed position. Until each piece of mass within the undead begins to spasm in directions gymnasts wish they could contort in.

Only come to a halt as they grip their stave once more.

"I reject your foresight of my path. As an ant compared to my kin? I want to carry things that would shatter the spines of the living. So once I climb you like a mountain. I'll eat your guts whole. Then- I'll have them harvested and made my own."

"Until then- I will not die. Eventually, I'll break your arm on the clock and the bell will ring." That putrid bile is sunk into. The ferocious disease-ridden liqud which they manipulated making way for their escape.

Even if Weiss and his blow were placed at the end of time. His execution would be hers alone to bring to the present.

Due to the nature of that attack? They had all the time in the world. But now the evolving sculpture which mocked life would ensure to make use of such to harass and eventually consume Weiss.
(Bronx Hel Myst)


[01:25] The woman taps her foot. The fights were interesting, the small Malibu having gathered some tactics that were used by Bronx's kin. She didn't need to write anything down, mere observation was enough to understand how these evils worked. Their methods, their tactics, the sloppiness of their fighting styles compared to more refined magi.

She knew not all demons were like that.

"Mm."

She glances too the side, a delicate gaze being given to a familiar face. Perhaps Buster would not remember her. But she did. She remembered his words. For they were the same words that had helped her through her grief. The very same she still held onto, despite all of the pain in her heart.

And another familiar face.

"...Mm."

["And what are you doing here?"] she ponders. A gaze flicking toward the Dominic. Of course, only those with the ability to read her mind would understand her.

Her thoughts and desired were foreign otherwise.

There is a brief glance, as the show finally ends. She enjoyed her time here, at least. If not to gather tactics against the demons and foes she planned to fight.

There is a brief nod to Buster. A tip of her hat, as she expresses a smile.

She goes on her way, unless someone wanted to stop her.
(Maria Malibu)


[01:32] Once the aftermath of this skirmish was over between Weiss and that familiar undead, Buster would give a slow round of applause. That flipping of coins to determine something was rather creative. Though the Cowpoke would've guess it had to do with their training within the Divination. It would seem they were learning it afterall, which would make the Busterlamb even more proud.

Unfortunately the Hel Myst would've slipped back within their bile, leading to their overall escape.

A shame

Still, Weiss pulled something off that Buster's former Captain could not; show their Commander that they can hold their own.

The applause would end, and the Busterlamb would simply step forward. "We're done here."

Though before he'd turn to leave, he'd spot Maria once more, much like before. A smile placed upon him, for it would seem she was carrying the next torch towards becoming quite the remarkable Gunslinger.
"Keep up th' good work." he'd say, before stepping away alongside those who followed along.
(B. Busterlamb)


[01:33] The girl was stood off to the sidelines, silently observing the fights. A demon is bested by a huntress. A chronomancer causes an undead to taste pain for the first time.

Mari looks bored.

A thin breeze wafts past her as she lets her gaze raise to the midday sky, staring into the overcast clouds. The ice of Winter had thawed. It was growing warmer. The Dominic almost looks peaceful in the aftermath of the battle.

Though the delicate look given by Maria is caught at the corner of her eye. She slowly turns her head toward the mute, her black talons clacking as she considers the Malibu.

"Do you want something?" She asks as a ponderous gaze is read. "Last I remember, you tried to shoot me. That was rude," she reminds.

She turns her head away, not moving to bother the woman any further.
(Mari Dominic)


[01:37] Sarai does warmup exercises.
(Sarai)


[01:41] Given enough time, the bunny's mental fill with contemplation. Things that didn't quite feel right, but all of which where neither here nor there.

The Commander's applause is heard, but there's no merit to gain from such a task he'd thought, and there was even less of an understanding for what truly ailed the hare's mind.

It was unfortunate that no matter how high a rank he'd reach, Weiss was no more than just a rank-and-file soldier. But alas, the Captain was able to luckily hold his own against a likely foe to see again in the near future.

Slowly does Weiss come to a full stand, staring at the four coin that Bronx had drawn out of his grasp in the deciding moment of their bout.

"...."

No words escape him as he sighs and then opts for a turn of sight and direction. Set for trajectory in-way of 'home', the rabbit sought to go, and with no delay does he carry out such an action with a light limp in his initial step before correcting it at least for the time being until out of view.
(Weiss)


[01:46] A remarkable Gunslinger.

An outlaw.

One who fought for their own justice.

"..."

The thought berates her. She hides her gaze as soon as the smile is given. Following a shadow against her face, hiding her from the view of many.

And yet there was her

"..."

Why did she shoot her that time? Was it anger? Jealousy? A chance to express her skill?

Or was there more hidden deep within the Mari?

A darkness?

One bellowing within, deep into their soul, clawing at her psyche the very same as the injury that clawed at Maria's own.

...Why did it feel so familiar?

She hated the feeling. It wasn't until it was drawn out of her that her inhibitions finally recovered. A knife to her shoulder, a stab to her pride.

She turns, canary hues gazing at the girl once again. Her brow furrows, for her words were useless.

Only actions would mark what she was in this moment.

"..."

["I don't really want to hurt you. But there's...something about you. Something that...pisses me off immensely.]"

["I don't even know what it is."] her thoughts echo. Mere expressions mark the confusion from the mute's gaze. Was Mari testing her again? Wanting to fuel her jealousy and anger?

She looked bored.

The same as Maria.

Why did they fight? Was it a simple jealousy of their similar names? Or perhaps ideals hidden deep within?

["I want you to stop looking at me.]" Maria ponders, furrowing her brow at Mari.

The gentle clack of her talons echo through the Spring air. Winter had ended, the morrow finally coming too the horizon. How fitting it was, the snow melting beneath their feet.

It felt warm. Tranquil. The overcast clouds waking in the sky, bellowing a realm of shadow beneath the duo.

"..."

Would Maria be able to hold her emotions? How could she possibly express herself? Especially when words were not an option?

"..."

She draws her pistol. A test, once again. An aggressive demeanor, yet she seemed to be challenging Mari. Her challenge was aggressive in nature, yet less baked in jealousy than their bout before.

Maria was bored too.

She wanted to test herself.

She wanted to know what it was like, to be pushed to the edge.

Mari was the perfect candidate.

And so she turns, tilting her head in a curious demeanor, as if asking Mari to engage in the challenge.

Perhaps Maria loved the thrill as much as herself.

She was bored. She was tired.

She wanted more...

"..."

Something to ignite her heart.

At least for tonight...

If Mari catches it, theremight even be a smirk caught in her eye from the other.

A challenge.

Another test.

Light against Dark.
(Maria Malibu)


[01:58] A black cloak ripples in the soft wind, a spring breeze which brushed against their faces like a mother might caress a cheek. Mari was no gunslinger or outlaw or fighter for justice, merely a girl, some years younger than Maria.

They shared little history save for the aggressive intentions they'd shared with one another. The child's eyes fall half-lidded. Her long scything claws, fashioned out of a pitch-like ichor and shining in the sunlight like obsidian, hang limply at the ends of her sleeves.

She is armed; there is no longer a rifle that she shoots people with, but a spear-like harp that doubtlessly had already claimed victims of its own.

And those reaping claws had replaced the knife she'd left buried in Maria's shoulder, no doubt.

Now, Mari notices the stare, and her head tilts away from that caressing breeze. Where once she had maybe found some semblance of peace in the moment, now she was frowning, disturbed by the insistence of the gunslinger to stare at her.

"What is it with you?" She asks out loud now. "Always staring, silent. You weren't even fun to fight, you were hardly more than prey."

She now knits her brow.

The softness of the wind begins to pick up. Somewhere off in the distance- or, perhaps, in the back of the mind- a child begins to cry.

A pistol is drawn.

"Seriously? What's.." She frowns now, studying Maria, observing her more closely. The young girl takes a step closer, and they widen. "... or maybe..."

The weapon on her back is drawn, a spear with prisminthium strings upon its length. They begin to quiver and resonate with the wind's passage.

"Are you just like me?"
"Alone. And hurting."

She lifts her weapon. The tip glints in the light, as darkness begins to ooze from her silhouette. Thin threads latch onto the earth around her like spider's silk, as the talons of her off-hand elongate unnaturally.

"And wanting.. to hurt?"

Her head tilts. "Well?"
(Mari Dominic)


[02:08] Maria was no gunslinger or outlaw either.

Not truly.

Merely fighting to keep a facade. The same broken and pained girl lurking deep within her heart. The thought pained her, unable to express herself. Unable to tell others what she felt.

The jealousy, the pain, the sorrow.

All of it.

So why did she keep to the light.

"..."

Her hues waver, gazing away from the Mari. Her pistol is lowered, the still soft and delicate breeze echoing through the midnight forest.

A peace disturbed. An anger. The gunslinger finding anger in her heart for the Dominic disturbing her own peace.

"Tch..."

She scoffs, raising her pistol once again. Offering yet another challenge. Maria had grown...somewhat stronger than their last encounter. A deeper grasp on her magics she weld, a slightly larger arsenal of metaphysical and reality warping gunslinging that Mari might find difficult to deal with.

...Yet was it enough?

Maybe Maria wanted to prove herself this time. To show she was stronger. To finally mark herself as a worthy rival.

"..."

The soft wind, the delicate spring breeze echoing in the distance. A gentle embrace, echoing through the dawn.

Maybe...

Maybe Mari can understand.

The gaze in her view, the sorrow and hatred. The desire for redemption.

Maybe she was the only one she could understand.

Words were not an option, merely actions, as the barrel is pointed directly at the Dominic.

'Are you just like me?'

'Alone? and Hurting?'

She doesn't answer.

But her eyes told the same story.

A sister of the moon, just like herself.

Maria begins to pace. Her pistol held at her hip, waiting for the first shot to be fired. The first gust of wind, the first delicate spiderweb to be shot at her soul.

'Well?'

"..."

There was no any other option.

The gunslinger fires.

The victor of this bout, being the one to prove their worth.
(Maria Malibu)


[02:08] * You have been awarded 1 Levels! * [02:12] {Lost Dangerous RPB against Mari Dominic}
[02:12] Mari Dominic has inflicted an injury upon Maria Malibu. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "Duration: Medium (2 days)")
[02:30] Crack-shots of light threaten to blow holes in the Dominic's defenses.

The metaphysical aspect of her gale had been subverted for a more literal take; rather than merely eroding and letting time do its work upon the world, Mari had become aggressive and upfront with her desire. Destroy, pillage, hurt and wallow. The crying on the wind turns to screaming the more it resonates with the harp.

And the Godblooded is reckless, uncaring for her physical condition. Ichor-black blood spills from the shots that graze her, what the howling wind cannot deflect away. As her blood boils to the contact of the air, visions of death ensue, flickering ghosts of could-bes and has-beens falling in the wake of her travel;

Mari spins around as a bullet connects with her skull. Mari stumbles and is entrapped in her own webs. Mari screams as she is blinded by light. Mari is pulled into her own shadow. Mari dies horribly in a way nobody could have foreseen.

This odd consequence of her latent aether almost seems to serve as a defense mechanism, and not merely a work of chronomancy as it had before. The agony empowers her.

Yet she finds herself more evenly matched, and not just because she is malaised and hurt. She is forced to retreat,

"You are. You WANT this. You WANT to see me hurt!" She speaks loudly, the voice carrying across the air easily despite the ruckus of combat. "Ahuhuhu! You're just like me!"

Lines of dark silk stretch between the trees and Mari darts into them, obfuscating herself in the canopy's cover. Maria might lose track of the girl for a moment as light-beams twist about her-

"So, hurt like me."

And Mari comes from above, having leapt like a jumping-spider from her perch. A thunderous gale descends upon Maria, slamming into her like one slams into a concrete wall driving down the highway at 80mph. It floors her, sucking the breath out of her.

Scything claws bite deeply into the flesh of Maria, and drink of her crimson blood.

"Hold still," she whispers, as her mouth opens wide, too wide for what's natural, revealing a pair of elongated, hollow fangs within where her canines should be- extending, dripping with a dark ichor. Attempting to spread her affliction.

Maria does not succumb so easily to this however- she will escape with the injuries already sustained.

But how?
(Mari Dominic)


[02:44] The gunslinger fires.

A bolt of light, shot at the speed of light, directly at the one who marked themselves in shadow. Maria turns to her knowledge of Wayfinding. Deep, calm breathes, calling on the delicate Lifestream to guide her movements.

She was no master, not even an adept, yet her knowledge would guide her this bout. She dashes, slinging a bolt of light at her opponents. Light against Dark, Maria was potent at her mastery of the Light. Her shots are fired with extreme accuracy, hitting their target as she dashes forward to overwhelm them with a flurry of slashes of the knife at the hip. Yet she was missing something. A long range weapon that was able to contend with another. At close range she succeeded, yet it was evident how dated her weapon was.

Not even Levius's pistol can help her here.

"!!!"

Shadow and darkness berate her, tearing at her soul as the Light attempted to rise right through. Her heart bellows, dashing through the shadows. Attempting to delve deep into her own, the very darkness filling her soul.

"AAAGGGH!" She dashes, firing at rapid speeds and fanning the hammer as Mari attempted to defend herself. The darkness overwhelms her, Maria finding comfort in the shadows of her soul just as much as the light. She was a fast, articulate fighter. Firing and dodging Mari's attacks at rapid speeds. Her trigger finger was as potent as her draw, accurate and precise shots meeting the Dominic's body with extreme force. Maria was just as much of a force of offense as she was one of pure defense. Yet her style was unrefined, unable to find cover against the array of storms and tornados sent her way.

There was potential.

But still.

Unrefined.

"!!!"

Maria delivers an acrobatic fighting style. She fired her pistol, quick drawing her firearm as she attempts to keep the girl at bay with the might of Gravity. Tearsin reality pull Mari into Maria's grasp, knowledge of the Lifestream allowing for the girl to teleport short distances and maintain distance as well as close in the same. Her crack shot was able to hit most if not all her shots. Yet the potency was lacking.

Her downfall.

Her unrefined style, her lacking potency, once again.

Her downfall.

"!!!"

It was during the bout does Maria find the hatred and sorrow seep into her soul. Not for Mari. But for those who have taken everything from her.

This was a chance to improve. To be strong enough to mark herself a worthy contender against the demons that took everything from her.

No.

It wasn't even that.

Merely a gesture of scaling. How weak she still was.

Precision and skill did not matter, in the waking world that was Meranthe.

Merely power.

"!!!"

Ichor is bled, spilled across the emerald forest. Maria finds the pain to be more than the past bout. More than any bout she had ever faced, even. It was a dangerous game she was playing, at the cusp of Mari's onslaught, just the same as herself.

Weak, still.

The girl was reckless, a dichotonomy to Maria's precise nature. Every movement was calculated, every shot fired at a perfect angle. And yet, not even that was enough to instill herself a worthy rival.

Not yet..

The howling wind continues. Each and every bullet, gracing the very same wind that caressed the duo. The spring air, caught with the ichor that spilled from both warriors.

This was what this world entailed.

Maria realized...

"!!!"

Bullets collide with Mari, visions collide her psyche. Maria finding naught but the most terrible realities at the brunt of her psyche.

"AAAGGGGH!" She screams, the visions that cloud her brow. The very same that felt so natural with the very Lifestream shepossessed in the palm of her hands.

Timelines. If only she had angled a single bullet at a different angle. If only she had dodged a certain attack, if only she had aimed right, instead of left.

The possibilities were endless. Some resulting in the death of Maria. Some in the death of Mari.

The spirits linger, the Lifestream awakening, bellowing into her heart. Visions clasped upon her brow, distracting her from her victory.

A simple bullet to the head. A knife to the throat, a barrage of spiderwebs, entangling Maria to her death.

All at her view.

All as painful as the last.

["I want to see you hurt!"]

["Because I want to save you! I want you to help me too!"] her screams echo. And as the Lifestream bellows, can Mari finally her words. Timelines echoing, reality breaking into her psyche, visions and realities where Maria can finally speak.

...Yet what was this?

No reality held Maria besides this one.

(Maria Malibu)


[02:55] Merely timelines. Possibilities in this time. For realities beyond their view held Maria at bay.

She did not exist in them.

["I don't want you to suffer any more!!!"]

["Let me HELP YOU!"]

A flurry of voices, echoing through reality, straight into the dou's psyche.

Did...Maria want more than this?

...To be her friend, maybe?

No.

Rivals, they were destined to be.

In most, if not all realities.

["L-...let me..."]

["Let...m-me...."

The victor achieves victory once again.

Spiderwebs entangle Maria. Silk that was caught between the shadows of the trees, entangling deep within her soul. Forcing the darkness and sorrow from within her heart to bellow.

So she hurts.

A thunderous gale descends upon her, slamming her onto the ground with the last of her breathes, sucking the very air from her body.

Her pistol is slung from her palm, scythes digging into flesh. The pain of a thousand souls, seeping into her flesh, drinking her blood. Another set of fangs express themselves.

This close, Maria discovers who Mari truly was.

Their faces mere inches from each other, her eyes filled with fear. Her fate is sealed. Fangs mere inches from her neck, awaiting to drink of her delicate, virgin blood.

'No.'

"N-..."

"NO!" She speaks, screaming with vitrol. The scything claws dig into her skin, yet was it enough for the power of the Lifestream?

Even if it ripped her flesh apart, she would not mark herself as play.

Maria extends her palm, gravity magic pulling back her pistol straight into her palms. With the last of her strength, she extends a hearty kick toward Mari's abdomen. She fires her pistol as soon as it reaches her palms. But not toward Mari.

With the accuracy and swiftness of a gunslinger, Maria escapes her bloodlust and her grasp. She dashes backward, the single shot breaking reality in two. The world slows for just a moment...

Maria dashes into the portal that was created, her eyes filled with vitriol and sorrow. For the final seconds that Mari had Maria in her grasp, she'd know she had lost the one that got away.

The world continues to slow as Maria is pulled into this portal. The Lifestream finally closes, echoing the gunslinger away.

Escaped from her grasp.

Maria was as tricky as she was tactful.

While she had lost, it did not mean this was the end.

For justice would find Mari one day.

Even if it wasn't today.

The spring air finally settles. Mari finding naught but the boot of her opponent at her feet, having dropped as the portal sucked her in.

Her rival, her prey lost at her grasp.

...There was always next time.

A next time Maria would be prepared for.
(Maria Malibu)


[03:02] Dark ichor begins to seep from the fangs as they close in.

A scream in the air: 'NO!' Maria defies the inability to speak for a moment long enough to startle Mari, and a boot kicks into her chest, sending her stumbling backward. Her claws rip out of flesh painfully.

And then, her prey disappears.

The thin remnants of a portal, a gateway to the lifestream are all that are left- that, and a boot, the one that had crashed into her. It's picked up and considered quietly.

"... interesting," is all she outwardly has to say. The girl trembles.
(Mari Dominic)


[03:06] The mute was not mute after all?

Or was there something more.

As Maria entered that portal, as she found herself within the randomness of the Lifestream and wherever it would take her, she'd catch the girl's glance one final time.

'You are just like me.'

'You are just like me.'

'You are just like me.'

'You are just like me.'

["No! N-no i'm not!!"]

But as that wound digged deeper, as the darkness fluttered in her heart, would she realize...

They were the same.

Even if she wouldn't know it.

"..."

Flesh ripped apart, yet saved by the Lifestream's will.

This wasn't the last Mari would see Maria.

Nor would it be their final bout.
(Maria Malibu)


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Pub: 13 Sep 2024 09:39 UTC
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