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  1. - Top - End - #301
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    DreamingMage's Avatar

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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    Upon hearing the screams, Rob's patience cracked. He gripped Joshua by the shoulders, looking him directly in the eyes. "I'll take your silence as a yes. I hereby entrust you with the ancient and sacred role of rearguard. You must be alert, vigilant. Never leave an avenue of attack unguarded. I'm trusting in you. Now, I must go."
    One hand clapped Joshua on the shoulder, then he turned with a deadly serious look on his face and walked out over the hole, dropping to the floor below.
    Landing on two feet and a a hand, he proceeded to stand up and look at the scene of chaos unfolding in the room ahead. The altar caught his eye, but he could not see it well enough to tell what was going on there. His mind raced at Yuki-speed, looking for a way to get there and stop whatever was happening. Fighting would take too long, and shield or no shield, the laws of momentum still applied of he was hit horizontally. It occurred to Rob and Eva at the same time. Instant movement.
    You can step that far, right?
    Of course. Just who do you think I am, boy?
    Their minds acting in tandem, Rob and Eva brought his body into a low stance, with his right leg forward. He breathed out. Stepping forward with his left leg, he pushed quickly off his right- and landed instantly on his left across the room, in front of the altar. Digging in with the treads of his boots, he slid to a stop. Keeping his shield high, he leaped a few meters into the air to survey the scene in front of him.
    Last edited by DreamingMage; 2012-08-04 at 02:50 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    Yeah, DreamingMage honestly thinks he is a god. Over the years, I've found it best just to go with it.
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  2. - Top - End - #302
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    In front of the altar, Rob could see the chaos unfolding a step or two above the rest of the ground. Jacob was slashing with immense force at his enemies. Others unleashed spells, the Blood Lord was giving commands and fighting with enormous ferocity. The screaming continued, but this time it could be heard audibly and just sheer volume reached Rob's ears, he heard what they were actually saying, Rob could somehow tell that the voices didn't belong to an enemy, but friends. "LET US OUT!" The voices demanded. They could hear the fighting from the other side.

  3. - Top - End - #303
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    He stops. His temporal field is up, slowing time all around him. Even so, he barely notices Rob's movement across the battlefield. He was quick indeed.
    I was wondering how long it would take him to abandon his position. I understand that things are of a critical nature now, but what if it is a trap? Honestly, does he really trust none of us to fix the problem ourselves? Speeding over to the Altar to join Rob, Alexander lowers his temporal bubble and raises it around the two of them. All around, the combat has slowed to a near glacial pace: now they would have time to converse without great hurry.
    "Well? Should we wait for the combat to cease before we free them? It might completely disrupt the ritual, but put them at risk."
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2012-08-04 at 03:35 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by DreamingMage View Post
    You divine bastard.
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  4. - Top - End - #304
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    Conor was panting. Genetically enhanced cyborg body aside, he just couldn't keep up. The Blood Lord was too fast, of course, but the Hell Knights could move just as fast, their thick plating protecting them from every supernatural or mundane assault he tried. He couldn't shake this feeling... This feeling that he was going to die. It was like he could hear the waters of Death rushing behind his ears, like they were already swelling around his feet. As he moved further backwards, into the mass of Hell Knights, his blocks had to increase in frequency, in strength, and in accuracy. But he was getting more and more fatigued, rotors in his arms needing more energy in order to function, his muscles aching, and his mind becoming clouded with the pain that flashed across him each time his wearied arms blocked another strike. He ducked away, finally, turning a desperate leap into a sprint for the other side of the room. He heard screaming, but for now, he was just relieved to be away from the fray.

    He examined the battlefield. This wasn't going well. He needed to do something about the Hell Knights. The others were powerful enough to take out the Blood Lord, he wagered, but only if his vanguard was gone. But the Wand was recharging, his sword was useless, and plasmids would likely be as ineffective. His bells would only affect one or two out of the lot of them.

    Except...one. The Weeper. The largest bell. But, he couldn't protect his friends, and he was the only one with the power to escape the River.

    I, believe that I can help with that.
    What? Who are you? How?
    I'm a friend, an observer, and an old soul. I can protect your friends from the deathly effects of Astarael. And, as an aside, I think that it is a good plan you have, dangerous as it is. The lives of many versus the life of one, right?
    Well, yes. But I don't necessarily have to die for good, right?
    You may, you may not.That depends on the events that take place in the River itself. But no matter what, it is vital to stop this ritual, and while the Blood Lord has his lackeys, this battle will be almost impossible to win.
    I suppose you're right. But even so, what does everyone else think?
    Do what you must. I believe you know now what must be done. And, our lives have already gone by. It is your life you will be risking.
    I, for one, oppose this plan entirely. It is stupid and going to get us killed, wwhich has happened to me one too many times already. If Mr. Goody Two Shoes had just let the Hellball explode and saved his powwer, wwe'd be destroying these things 3 at a time.
    I'm sort of interesting in finding out what "Death" is, and how its supposed to work. And, I mean, I've already died once, so what's to lose?
    I don't have a choice in where I want to go. Wherever you decide to go is where I'll end up. My time is past, like the others here.
    Then it is decided. Take out the bell. Make the Weeper wail. Your friends will be safe, I promise.
    Okay then. Here goes...

    Conor unbuckles Astarael. He didn't need to do it cautiously, but he did anyways. He could have shaken it, dropped it, hell, even thrown it. It would not sound without intent. He held it in front of him, large handle clutched in his fist. And then, with a simple, forward presentation, he rang it. And fell to the ground, fist clutched around the bell, dead.
    "Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" --Charles Dickens

  5. - Top - End - #305
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    Out of the corner of his eye, Rob saw Conor pull out a bell-shaped artifact. A look of panic crossed his face, as memories of the last time made their way into his mind. Grabbing Alexander, he pulled himself down, smashing into the altar. "Look out! He's going for another bell!" Yuki's acoustic counteraction program, the one she had put together after the last chiming, would protect anyone in the shield.

    You idiot! What if he's right? screamed Eva in the moment as they plunged downward. For all we know you just hurled us at a trap!
    Could be. But if there's someone innocent in there, we can't let Conor's bell get to them. We don't know what'll happen.
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
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  6. - Top - End - #306
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    Smashing into the altar, Alexander, and Rob were then covered with blood. Suddenly, they felt an immense pain throughout their entire body, but they were, in reality, alright. His mind suffered the pain of all the deaths of the souls trapped in the altar. Though it was just a memory, eventually it became overwhelming, and he collapsed into unconciousness, but then, the felt, somehow, more whole. Everyone within the room would be restored to health no matter how injured they were. Their fatigue wore out, and they were soothed, ready for a second wind of battle.

    The Souls Within The Altar Migrate Into each Personae, regardless of location.
    Last edited by DarthArminius; 2012-08-04 at 05:26 PM.

  7. - Top - End - #307
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    As the healing wave washes through his body, Alexander feels something for the second time that day: a new presence in the background of his mind. Like all new arrivals, he had yet to build a partition for him - him, yes. This soul, like he majority of the others, was definitively male. He brought with him immense power, stronger even than any of the others currently trapped within him. It was accompanied by a sense of dark grandeur. Understanding floods him, his Intuitive Aptitude kicking in. A hollow opens in Alexander's gut as he realizes exactly who has joined his soul's chorus.
    No.
    Yes, little mortal. Yes... The elder dragon takes hold quickly, establishing a strong base before Alexander can purge it. Nicol Bolas. The tyrant of the planes, one of the oldest and most powerful planeswalkers in existence. He can feel Bolas within him, a sense of triumph as he gives chase. He does not make it far, the dragon's mental avatar pinning him down with ease. Iridescent green eyes bore into Alexander's, holding him tight. Slowly, he can feel the dragon's magic enter him, his limbs no longer responding as they should. He is only barely conscious as Bolas takes control of his bodily functions.
    So... sleepy. Can't... stay...

    Now that the irritating Persona was inhibited, Bolas takes a moment or two to familiarize himself with the mind he has found himself in. He categorizes Alexander's other souls and powers: unfortunately Bolas couldn't use them. However, he could duplicate most of the powers. That would hopefully work to fool the others in the short term. In the meantime, he opens two more doors: the first led to an abandoned SEEDS ship, Legato's abode. The second portal opened up to a ruined city beneath the earth. That was the prison of Dante, the infamous alchemist. The dragon exalts as the pair of villainous souls join him.
    Well hello there. This is an interesting twist, is it not?
    Damnation! Can someone please explain to me what is going on?
    I believe that is my purview. My name is Bolas. We are all currently in the mind of one Alexander Idrian, a strange entity. He built prisons for you, to seal away your psyches and use your powers for his own gain. Now, it's our turn.
    Excellent. We will show the universe unimaginable pain and -
    Suffering? Quite. But patience is in order. We must avoid suspicion, at least until we can escape the company of the other Personae.
    What reason do I have to trust either of you?
    Considering the alternative, I doubt you have much choice in the matter. You may sit back and observe if you wish. I, on the other hand, am going to embrace the opportunity given to me by my new friend here.
    ... Alright. I'm in. Where do we start?
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2012-08-04 at 07:58 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by DreamingMage View Post
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  8. - Top - End - #308
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    Rob rubbed his head, shaking the pain out as the healing hit him. Looking around, he saw Idrian lying on the ground, seemingly unconscious. Letting loose a few choice expletives, he moved over to check the man over. He didn't seem to have taken any major injuries... shock maybe?
    Rob, you'll want to see this. There's someone new here.
    Not now. I have to make sure this guy's alright.

    "You OK?"
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    Yeah, DreamingMage honestly thinks he is a god. Over the years, I've found it best just to go with it.
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  9. - Top - End - #309
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    After a moment to compose himself, the trio open Alexander's eyes. They take in their surroundings carefully, getting up before looking back to Rob.
    "Perfectly cogent, thank you. Yourself?" Internally, the trio has already begun to plot, examining Alexander's memories, his knowledge.
    Well, that one ability seems to have come in handy for him. Intuitive Aptitude... are you sure that we can't release Sylar? His skill-set would perfectly complement ours.
    He is too unpredictable for my tastes. First he is a villain, next a hero. He never seems to make up his mind.
    Agreed. Cohesion is needed if our plan is going to work in its current form. Now, what to do about keeping up appearances? The others will be suspicious if we cannot maintain Alexander's powers.
    Leave that to me. I am working on some illusions. First, a passive effect, it will read as a psychic protection similar to a telekinetic barrier. And now...
    Slowly, motes of burnished gold skin begin to spead across Alexander's body. In a matter of minutes, it completely covers him. His pupils have changed a well, narrowed into the shape of hourglasses. He groans.
    "... I seem to have found the soul of Raistlin Majere, a mage of Ansalon. This affliction comes with it, I suppose." Should anyone check, they will find an ongoing magical effect surrounding the body of the Persona, as would be the norm for the actual Raistlin's condition.
    Quote Originally Posted by DreamingMage View Post
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  10. - Top - End - #310
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    Joshua nods his head,
    "Go right ahead, Don't be surprised if I join you though." He flashes a smile at Rob.
    Last edited by Lonewolfe208; 2012-08-04 at 10:52 PM.
    Narian Wolfe

    Narian speaks in Deep sky blue

  11. - Top - End - #311
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    Tristan watched as Conor drew yet another bell.
    I don't see this going well...
    I will attempt a solution.

    He felt a sudden pressure against his ears, which quickly escalated to searing pain. Abruptly the pain disappeared, along with his hearing. Blood dripped down the sides of his head.
    YOUR SOLUTION WAS TO DEAFEN ME?
    Well it
    is a bell. Maybe this will stop its effects. You know that I can fix the damage.
    ...I suppose deaf is preferable to insane. Seal the wound and clean up the bleeding, at least.

    Then he watched as Conor rang the bell and collapsed. ...It's better than being dead as well.
    He was about to start casting Life (a misnomer, but worth a shot) on his ally when he saw Rob (When in the hell did he get down here?) and Alexander crash into the altar, blood spraying in all directions. Three orbs shot from the wreckage, one blue, one purple, and one orange, all rotating around an invisible point. Unsurprisingly, they beelined straight for Tristan.
    I know there's no sense of danger, but I still don't feel comfortable with whatever that is coming for us.
    I'd try running, but it's moving too fast!

    The lights slammed into his chest, and though he was pressed roughly against the wall of the cathedral, he felt oddly refreshed. His head felt even more cramped with thoughts than he had become accustomed to.
    Thus I invoke myself!
    The voice was a powerful, deep growl. It sounded as if he was yelling from the opposite end of a cave, but it was immediately recognizable.
    Kael?!
    Invoker!
    All right, Invoker it is, then!
    What a joy it is beholding me!
    This guy doesn't seem to be the brightest bulb...
    Glorious invocation!
    You try living for an eternity and see how sane you sound. As a matter of fact, I don't even know how the Invoker died...
    Since defeating the Vord Queen, I have no doubt that everything can be killed.
    In any case, I know all of his abilities, so at least we'll have those to work with. Quas will enhance healing, Wex will enhance speed, and Exort will enhance damage. All of these effects should synergize well with your own abilities. He might not be helpful with strats though...
    Thus and so.
    Too bad we can't deafen our souls...
    Last edited by mkfuba07; 2012-08-08 at 02:40 AM.
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  12. - Top - End - #312
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    "Huh." said Rob, giving Idrian a strange look. "I could revert you to how you were a minute ago. It would cure whatever you have, but I suppose it would also remove any new mental paths too. Better not." With that, he rose into the air again, incanting in Latin. Lic Lac Lilac! Centum Sagitas Magicas Tenebris! Ensis Exsequens!
    A series of dark orbs appeared in an arc stretching from one shoulder, over his head, to the other shoulder. Keeping the magic unreleased had an interesting sensation to it, leaving him brimming with power. A blade-like projection of energy extended from his right hand, hissing against the air around it. It was a bit cold, but nothing he could not handle. Through Evangeline, he was a true-blooded vampire. Cold was no obstacle to him. Looking up, he surveyed the room, looking for something to kill.

    Mentally, he handed the controls off to Eva, who took them with a maniacal grin. Turning, he faced the room. Standing next to Yuki was the slight figure of a girl. He couldn't quite place her... then she turned towards him. The hair was instantly recognizable. Rob let out a slight gasp. ...Lain?
    Her face held a grin of downright demonic glee. Yes. And you are Rob, who calls himself Zeno, and Dreamingmage.
    His shock was nearly palpable. Y- yes. It is an honour to meet you, goddess. he shook his head, trying to snap back to reality. But I'm afraid that now is no time for introductions. We must talk at length when this is done. In the meantime, you likely need a bit of orientation. Our 'net is somewhat different from the Wired. I'm somewhat surprised you managed to find out so much about me already. Nonetheless, perhaps Yuki and Urza can give you a bit more of an in-depth refresher. I think you'll get along fine. A smile spread across his face. Getting to meet a living goddess, that was something you didn't do everyday. Now, though, i have some work to attend to. Turning away, he tried to calm himself. It was proving difficult. Once the other two pulled Lain off to introduce her to the wonders of the internet, though, he managed to get his focus back.
    Elodin, how goes the naming?
    The master namer sighed. It was going fine until a second ago. It changed again.
    You know what? Forget it. This is going nowhere. You'd be better off just watching him. Go keep Eva company, eh?
    Fine. replied Elodin, seemingly eager to antagonize the dark mage again. Rob smiled too. The two of them, despite appearances, were getting along rather well, in his opinion.

    Moving farther into the back of his mind, Rob approached Bowman. Tailing behind him was the Yuki-esque agent which had been assisting Elodin.
    If you want to take a break, I think this can cover for you.
    Alright. The young man got up, stretching his legs and arms. The agent sat where he had been, taking up a remarkably good likeness of him.
    You might want to go watch what's going on outside. Just tell Eva if you have any suggestions.
    I really should get to meet the others... sighed Bowman, moving off towards the main control board.
    Last edited by DreamingMage; 2012-08-04 at 11:15 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
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  13. - Top - End - #313
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    St. Evans
    "By Olympus!" Zeus said annoyingly. "I share my soul with all of you?" Zeus said seeing into Hawkes eyes, who was face palming. "By the Maker, this is insane. Who has ever heard of a man with seven souls." Inside Jacob's mind, the seven saw eachother and were wondering what to do. Zeus looked the most disturbed out of all of them. "I am a god! I am surprised I even had a soul to share!" However, as they were all beginning to bicker and whine about the apparent insanity of sharing a single soul, St. Evans arrived, apparently the most evil of them all.

    "Ah. . . I can see this isn't going to be pleasant. Two mad gods, a powerful mortal mage" he nods at Hawke, and then he looks straight at Jacob. "And a weakling. The worst fate I could have imagined, to share my very essence with a Human with no power. This is impossible." Saint Evans appeared as an old man with a black robe. His bearded and moustached face might have given him a false "Grandpa" kind of look, but in truth, he was most likely the most evil out of all Jacob's souls." "Guys, please be quiet, at least until the battle's over. I'm going to scream. Jacob looked incredibly disturbed to share his soul with five purely evil beings, he looked as if he was going to lose his mind.
    Last edited by DarthArminius; 2012-08-04 at 11:23 PM.

  14. - Top - End - #314
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    Something appeared in his mind. The words trust appeared in his mind, and Erik knew not for a moment.
    Something... Very powerful, had just appeared in him, and was coordinating, or something.... How was he supposed to know.
    Blood soaked, he began a ritual which Aleandrea had learned, simply leaving the sword inside a deamon, a shorter combat one, but no less, if not more, powerful. One that drains others very life force.
    And this was further aided, by a psychic who had it also draw on their minds, and a demon that would draw in the others souls, the three combined their power to make the single assault more potent than any other assault on the soul, that was the life of a being, its very mind and essence.

    The bell rang, and was ignored, the new comer was well attuned to the power of the soul, and no mere bell, even one that was a sliver of a god, was going to move this soul. The bell would probably weaken the others souls... That wouldn't be to good.

    And then, in a wave of red and white energy, magic exploded from Erik, tearing at the very essence of the demons, and pulling it into him, empowering him. The very casting of the spell tore reality and allowed a spirit of nothing, a Greater Shadow Demon, who owed its alegence to Erik by powerful wards woven within the spell, appeared into existence.
    My Homebrew Sig.

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  15. - Top - End - #315
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    Rob strode quickly through the air towards the Blood Lord. A grin stretched so far across his face that it seemed liable to split clean open. Stepping into place behind the monstrous devil, his head on level to stare straight into it's eyes, he called out. "I think your accent is patently ridiculous. Also you smell."
    He waited for the fiend to strike, standing unflinching.
    Last edited by DreamingMage; 2012-08-05 at 01:08 AM.
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    Yeah, DreamingMage honestly thinks he is a god. Over the years, I've found it best just to go with it.
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  16. - Top - End - #316
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    The Dark Cathedral

    Though the upper reaches of the chapel are shadowy and indistinct, the floor glows with the power of the souls. From lightsabers to Charter Magic to the fiery glow of the Altar itself, the lower half of the cathedral is lit, though dimly and inconsistently

    It becomes clear that the Hell Knights have no magical ability. But their martial prowess more than makes up for it, for even as they stand unsteadily they block the incoming blows with arms so heavily armored they seemed to be mostly made of chitinous plates. Shinook!Jacob brought the Blade of Olympus down upon them, but each time was blocked. The Hell Knights didn't even seem to notice that he was there. As they shook themselves off and checked themselves for injuries, their arms moved on their own, axes moving in tandem with the Sword, blocking it jarringly, to the huge frustration of the Persona. Shepard!Jaime found himself in a similar situation. He tried to engage a Knight, only to find himself surrounded by three. Esperacchius met plate, while his lightsaber collided only with air, the Hell Knights faster and stronger than he would have expected. He shoots lightning, only to find that the armored hides of his infernal foes were insulating. At last, when he takes a wound in his stomach from an axe, he blasts them backwards with the Force. They just get back up again, laughing, and move to other targets. Erik, teleporting around, scored armor with his sword, causing deep gouges in the chitin, but barely dodges scorpion tails and axes that whirl nearly as fast. He too, was soon on the defensive. Alexander found that his sword could only poke at the Hell Knights. Slow as they were, their armor protected them just as well as if they were moving fast, and their scorpion tails could still engage him. Disgruntled, he moved over to the altar, where Rob had stopped.

    Meanwhile, another ragtag group targeted the Blood Lord himself. First was Morcleon, charging right up and getting grabbed. The claws tightened painfully around his head as the fiend admonished him, and then threw him sideways to land on the stone floor, where he broke two of his ribs. Conor engaged him, but the Blood Lord blew him off, focusing instead on the battle. Then, as Conor was surrounded and deflected away by Hell Knights, Sam burst into the room, and threw a wave of Telekinesis at the Lord. The Lord, looking forward again, waves his hand to the left. A pillar beside him loses most of its paint and a lot of its masonry. The Blood Lord began to mutter a string of words under his breath in a strange, eldritch tongue, ignoring these pitiful attempts at combat. Unbeknownst to most, Tristan sent a small healing spell over to Morcleon, fixing his ribs with a sphere of glowing light.

    Conor, at the edge of the Cathedral, had the blank look on his face that signified his interaction with his other selves. And then he began to unstrap a bell. Everyone who saw this groaned, remembering what happened last time. Rob grabs Alex and smashes into the Altar, releasing the souls within. And then, a split second before the sound reached them, they saw Conor ring the bell and collapse. A low, deep, quiet sound begins to roll across the floor. Shivers go up backs, and hair stands on end. This low tone rises in volume, instead of lessening. As it does, it becomes clear that this slow note is one of mourning. Even as they fight, several of the Personae are overcome with sadness. The peal of the bell, resounding off every surface, causes the fighting to entirely stop, as it grows unbearably louder and louder. The pain of a broken heart. The emptyness left in the soul after a beloved death. The combined fear and terror and mourning that comes with the knowledge that all things have a time, and a place, to die. Astarael knows this. Somehow, in its single, clear, note, the bell creates a concerto more moving than the most complicated piece in history. Its ring stuns the room, as each of the Personae, and all of their souls, and all of their enemies, are forced to remember, to remember that which they no longer have. In the Weeper's ring, heroes heard every friend they'd had that was no longer laughing with them, and the villains knew personally the pain of each loss they had caused. But in that moment, it seemed as though the totality of death, the complete and final end of all things was lifted from the shoulders of those present, and laid to rest upon the shores of a River, ancient and gray, cascading forever into the stars. A few of the souls begin to cry with relief, their grief taken at last from them, weighing upon them no longer. Others just barely hold back tears, their eyes brimming. And some break down entirely, sobbing without a care. And then, just as the tone stops, 7 of the Hell Knights drop to the ground, dead.

    The souls flow into the Personae just after this happens, bolstering them. The new arrivals are unaware of what just transpired, and come to find weeping humans and oddly silent minds. Most of the Personae were already stopped, but are distracted from commencing movement by more power, and another mind taking attention away from the outside. Erik, unlike them, prepares new energy, to suck the life force of the remaining enemies, wiping his eyes as he prepares his incantation. Rob calls into being a blade of translucent blue Cold energy. Two of the remaining Hell Knights move to intercept the two, but Erik pulls their very souls into himself, summoning a Shadow Demon as he does so.

    Rob moves over to the Blood Lord. There is little light in the place now, the only sources nearby being Rob's Freezing sword and the Blood Lord's cruel, diabolic eyes. He insults the Great Fiend's buzzing speech and foul scent, waiting for the inevitable strike. Only to realize that though it was looking at him, it was still speaking in low tones, the words of power to complete a spell.
    "Bel'tazz Akorathum K'elezzekht", it incanted, taking a single step towards Rob. Rob, knowing now that it was not preparing a strike against him, moved forward to land the killing blow before it could finish. But he was too late. With a single shouted word, the demon flared with flames of power, a hot, baking wind sweeping out from it, so powerful as to throw anyone near it away, including Rob, who stood for a moment against its force, before tumbling, his blade hissing through a pillar as he went heels-over-head backwards. The Blood Lord's skin had turned to seared ash, cracks within throwing red light upon the surroundings, hot and bright enough to illuminate the entire unholy sanctum with a hellish red glow. The fiend's body was sheathed in swaths of inferno, colored deepest red to brightest white. And seemingly out of nowhere, it pulled two jet black scythes, that looked like holes in the world save for their edges, which were caked with dried blood. Its horns grew, and curled together on top of its head, to form a kind of large headdress, and it grew to at least 25 feet tall, its depth and width accommodating. Its transformation complete, it bellowed, in the voice of a thousand hives: "WHAT THINK YOU OF MINE "ACZENT" NOW, YOU FOOLIZH GNAT? IZ THE SZTENCH OF POWER NOT MORE THAN YOU CAN BEAR? ALL OF YOU SZHALL PAY WITH YOUR UNDYING SZOULZ, FOR TAKING MY ZERVANTZ AND MY MASZTER FROM ME IN THE SZAME SZTROKE. THE BLOOD LORD KNOWZ NO MERCZY, AND TAKEZ NO QUARTER!"
    Last edited by Conor77; 2012-08-05 at 04:22 AM.
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  17. - Top - End - #317
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    Saint Eva?

    Jacob finally decide to avoid direct physical confrontation for now. It was time for him to resort to more mystical means of combat. His form reverted from a giant green, armed monster, to an old, black robed, bearded and moustached man. As Saint Eva, he knew that even the Hell Knights would have trouble escaping the mystical crystal he could imprison them in, before effortlessly smashing them inside their prisons as if they were insects. What's more, the presence of Saint Eva would allow him to exert a strange sort of superiority against them, despite his previous innefectual attacks against their incredibly well-armored bodies. Even Blood Lord's body could be contained for a moment or two within the crystalized prison he had prepared for him.

    "Well, I don't know about what he thinks of your breath but as for your power, I think you shall find my added strength to be far above yours, little-big worm." Eva taunted. Suddenly, the surviving Hell Knights and Blood Lord would find themselves covered in immensely restrictive crystals, impeded by incredibly tight crystals designed to restrict their movements. Evans would cast magical explosions to detonate inside the Hell Knight's crystal prisons from the inside, which should pop them like bugs, and then he would turn to face the Blood Lord and prepare himself for when the monstrosity would escape from the prison.

    "I too know of your kind, Blood Lord, for I am more than one you. I am as far above your kin as you are above the humblest imp."
    Last edited by DarthArminius; 2012-08-05 at 05:15 AM.

  18. - Top - End - #318
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    Rob held up a hand to Jacob. "Not now. This one is Mine."
    His mistake had been to stay in the air. While his shield would block whatever came at him, he was still subject to the laws of momentum. With nothing to push against... Alright, he still had the hundred dark sagita magica orbs...
    Pulling himself to his feet, he took a careful half-step forward, putting his right foot ahead. Then he stepped forward with his left, and pushed off with the now trailing right, moving instantly to a position just behind the Blood Lord's back. The art of instant movement was a powerful combat technique. He was surprised none of the others had learned it. Slamming his left foot down as he landed, he pushed off it in a jump to bring him to the fiend's back. Blade ready, he made a stab for it, aiming between the shoulder-blades.. If he hit, he would unleash the hundred explosive bolts through the strike, shattering whatever was left of the monster.
    Last edited by DreamingMage; 2012-08-05 at 12:30 PM.
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  19. - Top - End - #319
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    Ugh. There is so little taste in monologuing anymore.
    At least have the good sense to do it right! This 'Blood Lord' is already beset on all sides. His servants are either dead or imprisoned now. There can be no victory for him through force of arms.
    You have no idea how true that is. Watch.
    Bolas begins gathering his remaining black mana in a large enchantment. Alexander's body is moved closer to the center of the cathedral. Then, dark necromantic energy begins to float across the battlefield, shrouding the bodies of the Hell Knights in an attempt to reanimate them.
    Unbelievable! It is even more powerful than human transmutation.
    Not quite. My magic is fuelled by mana, a finite resource. Seeing as Sigil does not give me too much in terms of natural capital, I am relying on my previous stores - stores that are quickly running out.
    We had better hurry, then.
    Yes. In the meantime, it would be best for us to familiarize ourselves with Alexander's mind. Somehow, he was able to harness all of our collected powers without engaging our souls. I know that he locked you up in partitions, but what allowed him to access all of your skills? A psychic filter mechanism? Would that even be possible, Legato?
    Perhaps... I would need to do some digging around here. If we can replicate the powers of the others without letting them go, I will know soon enough.
    Excellent. Anyhow, back to the task at hand.
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  20. - Top - End - #320
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    Erik was, more than a little confused, and empowered.
    'Shall-'
    The Maiden had merged their thoughts and memories to some extent for effect, she could do more, but she did not, not just this moment. She was one of the few beings for whom the power of multiple personalities was something she could controll flawlessly, even the Doll House had only produced 1, with much effort. And Erik knew of no others off the top of his head.
    Quite simply, at the moment, they only needed to start their sentances in truth.
    He however, toke the time to reply in full to the maiden, and his other selves.
    'No. Let everything... Settle. We can decide what to do latter. Let the man handle the demon, we may be more than it's match by far, but the man has chosen to make this a challenge... It wll let us think.'

    Erik moves towards the edge of the room, staying out of the combat, letting the souls think while establishing every protection he knew and had access to...
    Well, not every, reading all the scrolls from his magic pouch, which contained atleast 1 copy of almost all the spells from a Feruen, would take longer than he had....
    And then the powers of The Maiden, and...
    Well, he decided to just establish some of the most potent, perhaps most important of which was making sure the Dwarves amulate of fire immunity was still potent, and through the powers of both Eldrad and Aleandrea, gaze into the future, staying just in the moment before the combat to stay safe, few beings could even pray to be able to strike Erik in this state.
    Thinking of that, Erik was quite happy that the Necrons were not present...
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  21. - Top - End - #321
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    Jaime fights furiously, barely managing to keep the demon at bay. However, with a few quick blasts at its face he manages to knock it back and renew the attack. Quickly, two other equally large, and equally ferocious, demons jump into the battle, swinging it far in their favor. Jaime manages to beat back the first few attacks, but one hits him, tearing a gash in his stomach and knocking his on his back in the process. He lies there, stunned, with the demons towering over him laughing, and sees Connor reach into something and draw out another bell shaped artifact.Merde. Howl, can you do anything to deafen me?

    Yes, I should be able to. Only question is, how do you feel about vacuums?

    We tend not to get along to well. Shepard, can you seal the helmet against sound.

    Standard feature. Doing it now.

    Thanks.
    As the noise, or what would be the noise if it weren't for the helmet, washes over him, he feels a desperate loneliness, as well as grief of the people in his mind felt for those that they couldn't save. It comes as a surprise, naturally, that a few moments later he feels a hammer blow to his chest, sees the demons preparing to kill him stagger and fall, and another mind speaks up inside of him. Who are you? And what in Lakik trickster's name is going on here?

    No time to explain now, I'll tell you later. You're Briar Moss, right? Have you been in any wars recently?

    No. I make it a point never to get involved in others fight. They're no skin of my neb.

    Good. So I don't have to deal with you angsting. Can you do anything in this chamber? Any plants?

    No, none that I can feel. And what do you mean, angsting?

    Later.
    Jaime leaps to his feet, running his hand over his wound to heal it with the force. He sheaths his weapons, remembering how ineffective they were in the fight, and draws his revolver and rifle. He stands, holding the guns akimbo, looks around and sees only a few of the demons left alive
    besides the Blood lord, who roars something at one of the other personaes. Seeing the rest of the demons suddenly encased in what looks like ice and the demon lord attacked by the one he screamed at, he turns and empties the magazines at the head of the blood lord.
    Last edited by DoctorFaust; 2012-08-05 at 10:33 PM.
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  22. - Top - End - #322
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    The Waters of Death

    Conor could feel his heart and lungs stop working, his entire body growing cold even as he fell to the ground. And then, as if shaking dust from a broom, the impact with the ground seemed to fling his soul downwards, out of his body. The next sensation he could feel was one of falling, descending fast, misty air whipping about him. When he cracked his eyes open, he could see nothing below him but a mist, that was weak and gray, but left him unable to get a true sense of his speed, or even how far the mist allowed him to see. Both of these questions were soon answered, as he saw far below him a vast pool of water, which he knew to be the Sixth Precinct. It was growing closer and more clear, but at a speed that, compared to terminal velocity, was rather sluggish. As he drifted closer, he drew from Lirael's mind the words of Free Magic that would shape the mist and allow him to control his environment. The magic burned his throat as he spoke the words. His mouth and nose belched black fire, and his fall slowed entirely to a stop, letting him alight on a shadowy circular platform, about 7 feet from the surface of the still, grey, waters.

    Around him, Hell Knights crashed into the water, huge plumes of which spread into the air, adding to the thin mist. They recovered quickly, as he knew they would. They could take a Hellball, so the slow fall posed no danger to them. But Conor knew that already. It wasn't the fall that would kill the Knights. He had that honor.

    The Sixth Precinct of Death, fourth from the stars beyond which you could not return, was of course infinite. It was fed by the Fifth Gate, which crashed into it not far from here, in a tumult of water that threw its souls far and wide. That was how the Dead entered. Conor, standing on his magical piece of void, was safe from where they exited. The Sixth Gate, (the only exit from this precinct into the Seventh), appeared randomly and suddenly, its maw opening from beneath the shallow water to gorge itself on any souls lucky enough to be in the right place. Not that you got bored once you'd died. It was just a really long wait.

    Now the Hell Knights get up, shaking water from themselves, and rotating limbs. And moving towards him. "And how did your pretty magic bell work, then, human?", they taunted. "All you have done is cut yourself off from your friends, those more powerful than you, those that would have stood a chance against us". Conor knows they're right. He knows he doesn't have the strength to use the bells correctly, even though that was his plan. Instead, buying time, he banters back, "Not here. This is my domain, where I am the supreme power". Strangely, as he said so, he felt stronger and more rested. He continued, "You will never see the sunlit world again, unless something unknown lies beyond the Ninth Gate. For that is your only destination".

    The Hell Knights disagreed. With swipes of their claws, they almost knocked Conor off his tiny plate of dry darkness. But for some reason, he felt so strong, and so fast, that he merely laughed at them. And then, in a single burst, he knew the 6th mind that had been added to him, and great feathered wings burst from his back, pushing aside his armor and surcoat. His eyes flickered red, and just as a Hell Knight made the jump to claw his legs out from under him, he burst into the air, hovering far out of their reach.

    There was no question of what to do now. With all the strength of his gestalt soul restored, he drew and rang bells, faster than he knew was possible. He drew Saraneth and Mosrael first, the second biggest and second smallest. He rang Mosrael quickly from side to side from his wrist, creating many small rings. Then, as he put that bell back, he rang Saraneth in a clockwise circle, and then a counter-clockwise circle, taking Belgaer out as he did so. As he put Saraneth back, he rang Belgaer up and down, like a town crier, taking out Dyrim in Saraneth's stead. And then, as he rang Dyrim from side to side, sweeping from the top of his reach to the bottom, he put Belgaer away, leaving no replacement. He sheathed Dyrim after this, as well. The entire process took maybe 7 seconds.

    The warriors readied their will against the assault, only to find that it had no effect on them. "You really are the dimmest candle ever created, aren't you? Even your most powerful artifacts did not affect us! What makes you think you can defeat us, even flying as you are, like a tiny insect? Who is on your side that can help you here, where you have called us?

    But they had been distracted, looking up. At the sound of a hundred voices, they looked around. The hundred voices belonged to a hundred souls, twisted and empowered by their long wait in the darkness, yet inexorably bound by the clarion call of the bells. They chanted, over and over again, "All things die. Your time is past. Your death is due.". They spoke in low rumbles and high, tweeting voices; In slow, steady voices and wavering erratic speech. The Hell Knights, in the service of their dread master, had of course lived long past the time they should have died. Their time was come. Conor watched as they flashed claws and tail, attempting to rip apart the Greater Dead. They could not succeed, because no matter how they tore, a soul cannot be destroyed by mundane means. It can be corrupted, twisted, darkened, reclaimed, but not destroyed. And so it was that the Knights were dragged under the current, at which point Conor spoke more words of Eldritch power, opening the huge sinkhole of the Sixth Gate, ending the enslavement of the souls while sending them onward, to their final journey.

    His shoulders slumped now, his wings letting him rest upon the platform once more. He had a long hike ahead of him, and no idea what he would find at the end of it. With a sigh, he spoke more burning words, that created path for him to follow. With a head held high and shoulders thrown back, he began to walk.
    Last edited by Conor77; 2012-08-06 at 12:16 AM.
    "Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" --Charles Dickens

  23. - Top - End - #323
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    "The sharingan... blocked?" Crashing to the ground, Morcleon coughed, a small trickle of blood trailing from his mouth. He felt his chest, and groaned. Two ribs, broken. Probably a bit of internal bleeding as well. He staggered to his feet, and nodded his thanks to Tristan's healing spell.

    Blinking a few times, he forcibly suppressed the sharingan's future-sight. "No use confusing myself further, I suppose." He closed his eyes and began to think. Time seemed to slow around him as his mind raced ahead, thinking of possibilities. "Priority target is Blood Lord. Nothing else matters at the moment. Sharingan ineffective. Likely has great strength, magical power. Weapons are un-" The heat wave from the Blood Lord's recently completed spells struck Morcleon, sending him flying. Eyes snapping open, he stabilized his trajectory and landed, crouching, on the far wall. "Correction, weapons include to large scythes. Also, size has increased drastically. And likely danger has increased correspondingly."

    He noticed the new infusion of abilities, but the battle soulmeld pushed this realization to the back of his mind. Sheathing his sword and placing the Sixth Key in his sleeve, he yanked two hairs from the back of his head and blew them into the air. Both turned into clones of himself, one with the Key ready and glowing, the other with his chokuto out and electrified.

    The two clones leapt into battle, both targeting the Blood Lord with pen and sword, but relying on battle experience and training rather than the sharingan to evade. Morcleon's main body instead focused inward, raising his Gift. It came, somewhat sluggishly and painfully, but with it's full power nonetheless. He reached out to the Blood Lord, searching for the magics that gave it this newfound power, as well as the power that gave it it's original power, and pulling on them violently. A bare whisper, lost in the battle clamor, come from his lips. "No. No mercy. No quarter. And not without incident."
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  24. - Top - End - #324
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    Well that was odd.
    Yes, I - hold on, who are you?
    Me?! I am Bartimaeus of Uruk! I am Sakhr al-Jinni, N'gorso the Mighty and the Serpent of the Silver Plumes! I have rebuilt the walls of Uruk, Karnak, and Prague. I have spoken with Solomon. I have run with the buffalo fathers of the plains. I have watched over Old Zimbabwe till the stones fell and the jackals fed on its people. I am Bartimaeus!
    Wonderful.
    Another soul? I wonder if there is an upper limit to the amount one can take in. Even in my experiences, seven is rare.
    Seven, eh? At least it's a lucky number. There are seven planes of existence, don't you know.
    Well, I guess I can speak for everyone -
    This isn't even the first time I've done something like this. All one needs to do is...
    Sam's body jerks to the left suddenly, nearly tripping over her own legs. Bartimaeus chuckles.
    Heh, still got it. Now, can someone please explain what's happening? I was enjoying the Other Place, and now I find myself here somehow.
    Well Bartimaeus, it all started just a little while ago...


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  25. - Top - End - #325
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
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    Assimilating, first the demon's knowledge of Rituals followed by a new soul is quite painful apparently. The splitting headache taking a moment to subside.
    "Well that was fun." commented the virus sarcastically
    "Hehehe. This is going to be fun. an Avatar of Chaos, a virus, an assassin, a jedi, a ghost and little old me."

    "Going Ghost. Master Speed." The Ghostly Jedi turns white as the Force speeds him up to ridonculus levels.
    "Two scythes, what a pity you don't have only two adversaries." 11 other duplicates quickly separate, assuming a ring around the giant Lord.

    Flying, spinning. The 12 Ghosts fly in a ring around the enraged beast, easily breaking the Sound twice, 3 times while pelting down dozens of Ghost Blasts a second. Any attack passing through the ring, avoided narrowly by every single one of the 12.

    "Hmm I wonder." Phantom comments, peeling off one of them straight into the Heart of the beast, encasing it in pure ice for the split second it takes to complete the trip.
    Once inside Phantom dives into it's brain, Overshadowing the massive monster with the combined force of the seven minds battering down it's doors.
    <-- Give the zombie a hug. You know you want too. It's so lonely.

    I have quit Giantitp. I may be back but not anytime soon
    Sorry everyone

  26. - Top - End - #326
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    As Erik walks slowly around the outer edge of the cathedral and Sam acquaints herself with her perspicacious new mind, the room begins to feel more and more like an oven. Before, it had been dark and cool, but within a matter of seconds the Blood Lord's empowerment had lit it up and heated it. Even from where Erik was standing, near the wall, it was above room temperature. Soon, convection would turn the entire room hot as magma. This was a problem. Another problem was of course the giant fiery demon wielding Void Scythes that was causing the warmth increase.

    Several of the Personae were attempting to deal with this latter problem. Jacob, in the form of Saint Eva, traps all of the demons in a shimmering crystalline forcefield. Alex, who was trying to resurrect the bodies of the Hell Knights, finds their bodies trapped in small prisons with tiny explosions disintegrating their inner musculature. He looks up, initially thinking that the Blood Lord caused it. But as he looks over, the Blood Lord himself is trapped inside a cage of crystal, frozen in a swipe of his scythes that was all set to take the head right off of Saint Eva!Jacob. Rob tries to stop in midair, only succeeding in careening right into the crystal. He rebounds, sword still charged with explosive energy, himself still encased in a spherical shield, hurtling towards a wall. Meanwhile, Jaime empties two guns worth of ammunition into the Great Fiend, even as the shield-like prison cuts the line of attack off, bullets that should plink or rebound instead splatter, their impact splashes proving that the crystal itself is heating to a ludicrous degree.

    But Saint Eva's magic still holds, as the Hell Knight's bodies are bludgeoned into paste by the focused explosions, the Blood Lord remains frozen in a silent, still attack.

    Necron decides that he should attack. He duplicates himself 11 times, creating a small squadron of himself and his souls. Then, all of his selves fly around the Blood Lord, whipping small blasts of incorporeal energy through the magical energy to hit the Lord directly. As they do this, they see the surface of the crystal become white hot, and they begin to fly faster, fearing the imminent arrival of the magic's breaking point. Soon, they fly so fast that they can no longer be seen, even as the glassy prison gives off so much light energy it becomes effectively opaque. They fly faster and faster and faster, until, with one solid thunderclap, they break the sound barrier. This is the final blow for Saint Eva's magic spell. With a sound that is like a mix between the sonic boom created by Necron and the shattering sound that occurs from normally breaking glass, white hot shards blast outward, pelting the entire room, as a wave of superheated air flashes past in their wake. The various Necrons dodge and weave, their ghost blasts still pelting the Blood Lord, seemingly hurting him. He does not appear to know what is going on, recoiling from all over yet unable to catch a glimpse of his assailant. And then one phantom breaks off from the rest, and attempts to enter the Demon's body. This self, instead of reaching its target's heart, would find itself drawn inexorably to the feind's chest, where small glittering amulet lay. As soon as the ghost's body is absorbed, the fiend breaks into a grin. No longer recoiling from the blasts, he waves his scythes and speaks a few words. Within seconds, a great Wall of Force appears, extending between himself and a pillar. The Necrons slam into it at mach 1.4, hitting that which cannot be bypassed by incorporeal creatures. The Blood Lord laughs, twirls his scythes, dismeisses the Wall, and turns towards Saint Eva!Jacob. "I believe we have zome buzinezs to attend to" He speaks calmly and softly, as the ambient temperature of the room increases to levels reaching nearly 150 degrees Fahrenheit (~65.5o C). With a grin and a flourish, he wings the scythes forward, diving through the air at Jacob.

    But he is blocked, by two more assailants. Sweating, two copies of Morcleon appear, each wielding one of his weapons. "Can all of you create copies of yourzelvezs? I vind thiz tirezome, to vight weaker verzionz of my true opponentz.". He uses both of his scythes equally against each opponent, quickly cutting through and destroying the one wielding the elecrtified sword. But the other, wielding a magical key, does not stand and fight. This Morcleon dips and dodges, sweat pouring from his face as he tries to use the key to write his way to victory. But it is a hollow attempt, as with the sword-wielder destroyed, the Blood Lord could use two scythes to attack. In one moment, the copy made the fatal mistake of dodging left when it should have dodged right, bringing it directly into the shaft of one scythe. In an instant, it was undone, losing its essence in the face of the large weapons. The Key clattered to the ground. Interested, the great fiend bent to pick it up, only to find that it disappeared soon after the Morcleon. With a snuff, it turned back towards Jacob, intent on his destruction. It did not notice the actual Morcleon tugging on the huge conduit of magical energy that was flowing into it.

    Meanwhile, in a place that seems distant, but is actually quite close to us all, Conor trudged up the Fifth Precinct, arguing theology with his other selves, oblivious to the deep, dark waters flowing steadily beneath him.
    "Pause you who read this, and think for a moment of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, that would never have bound you, but for the formation of the first link on one memorable day" --Charles Dickens

  27. - Top - End - #327
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    Eva, what in the hells are you doing?
    What?
    Dodging! Trying to turn around! Trying to stop in midair!
    I don't know. It's like some completely irrational force compelled me to...

    Rob picked himself up, dusting off his shirt, even though he had never actually touched the ground. "Alright, this is just getting annoying. Not to mention hot..."
    Quickly getting up to a run, he pushed off of thin air, once again instantly jumping towards the fiend, which appeared to be distracted by the efforts of his comrades. Without anything to land on, he came out of the jump at enormous speed, flying straight towards the devil's exposed back for a flanking attack.
    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    Yeah, DreamingMage honestly thinks he is a god. Over the years, I've found it best just to go with it.
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  28. - Top - End - #328
    Ogre in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    Stymied and momentarily shocked at both the overall failure of the Personae to dispatch on simple demon lord, and their own failures, the triumvirate of villains hold court once again.
    I really hoped that would work. It seems as though we will need to find a source of magic elsewhere.
    Perhaps some alchemy might -
    These matters are of less concern at the moment. The method of acquiring Alexander's powers? I think I have discovered how to do it. Follow me.
    Legato leads the other two theough hallways of mirrors, out into the light. They find themselves on an infinite plain of silver and gold. The city is empty, silent. All around, glittering skyscrapers reach to the overcast sky. They constantly crack under their own weight, collapsing into the desert floor below - dissolving into something that is neither sand nor rust. Just as quickly, new structures raise themselves up, as if guided by an unseen hand. In their faces, the villainous souls can see their own wretched reflections a thousand times over, walking through folded streets of broken glass.
    What is this place?
    Idrian's mind - at least, we are getting into his actual consciousness. This is where he resides, I imagine. What about your spell, Bolas?
    A paralysis enchantment, nothing more. It will not hold the likes of him, no. He is already recovering somewhere nearby. If we want to hold on to our freedom, we have to press the attack. We carry on.
    As they continue, they begin to see other images etched into the eternal crystal: a house by a lake, a lawn. A tidy shop, half bathed in shadow. Two boys, each a spitting image of the other, rolling around in the grass, their auburn hair tossing in the wind. Soon, the images begin to evolve. A young man, burying a body. He stares into the sun, eyes full of emptiness. All of a sudden, the flow of memories slows. The trio soon find themselves in front of a massive pyramid of dark quartz. It is smooth and opaque, offering nothing in return for its theft of daylight. There are no visible entrances or exits.
    Well? I'm not the expert, but I would say that this is what we want.
    Correct. This is where Alexander's psyche will reform, his soul repaired over time. If we want to take his powers, we have to find a way to break in and steal them from his very essence. It will not be easy: our powers are diminished here, just as his are stronger.
    No time to waste chattering then. Some red mana might be of use here.
    Bolas begins casting an earth-based sorcery, attempting to split open the pyramid from its base. It fails spectacularly, the only tangible result being several superficial cracks that begin to regenerate. It soon becomes clear to the villains that there must be another way.
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2012-08-08 at 12:14 AM.
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    You divine bastard.
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  29. - Top - End - #329
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    Default Re: Reincarnation Wars - IC *Still Recruiting*

    With a hellish growl impossible for an old man, Saint Eva stands up to the challenge contemptously with a grotesque demonic transformation, but not before issuing his own retort "UP-START!" Deathevan taunted.


    By iamnew at 2012-08-07

    The monster gave a menacing growl from all of it's mouth like appendages. It's mouths had sharp fangs with most of it's neck like body parts, it possessed intestine like teeth, and the abomination was almost impossible to describe. The monsterously winged monster appeared imperceptively monsterous. As the Blood Lord roared and it's scythes of pure darkness descended on Saint Eva, the monster's fanged appenddages elongated and bit at the Pit Fiend. It's other appendages, closer to it's head at the top, which were skulled, jutted out suddenly, coiling around the Blood Lord's arms in order to keep it from striking. "BEGONE!" Deathevan roared with power in it's voice as he attempted a dispel magic attack against it's conjured dark Scythes.
    Last edited by DarthArminius; 2012-08-08 at 12:24 AM.

  30. - Top - End - #330
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    Tristan watched as one-by-one his allies attacks were repelled, leaving the Blood Lord looking no worse for the wear. If anything he seemed to have gained strength after one of Necron's ghostly images was absorbed by the amulet around its neck. It was then that he noticed the sweat dripping down his neck, and the heat from not only the flaming demon but also radiating from the very walls around them. With a simple effort of watercrafting he absorbed the sweat back into his skin, but he knew that they had to cool off or the entire room was going to turn into an oven.
    We have to do something about the heat or we'll be cooked alive in here.
    I have an idea, but we're going to need a bit of water to get started.

    He felt his right hand absentmindedly tap the gladius at his side, the one with the red materia set into its pommel. He grinned.
    You know I've been wanting to do this again since the lightning storm. Kitai should get us all the water we need, we just have to get to the ground. Invoker, I'll trust you to do whatever you can to help.
    Unto battle.
    Yeah... OK.

    He sprinted for two steps and leaped off the protruding head of the gargoyle as three pale blue, intangible orbs burst from his chest and began to circle his body. He strength increased dramatically, and his leap sent him flying faster than he had expected. He didn't try to slow himself down. After drawing his gladius quickly from its sheath, he pointed both arms behind him, towards the ceiling, and released the stored energy of one ring on each hand. His speed redoubled as the distance to the ground was halved. A feeling of understanding and excitement emanated from the Invoker, resulting in a shock of realization and apprehension from himself. A wooden staff with what appeared to be a carved piece of jade tied to the tip appeared in his left hand, pointed behind him.
    No! Not the Force Sta-
    He lurched forward, the Force Staff making him streak towards the ground, and wondered if this was a fall he could survive. He drew fortitude from the sword in his hand, steeling himself against the pain that was sure to shoot through his body when he landed. He also willed his semi-porous shields into existence, using them to cushion his fall as well as disperse the force of his descent over a greater area.
    Overall it worked better than expected. His shields began crushing the ground below him before he even reached it, creating a circular crater before his body even impacted. His collision doubled the depth and radius of the crater, leaving him in a hole about two feet deep and 15 feet across.
    His body, though slightly damaged, had been Protected and cushioned by shields. He had some scrapes and possibly a few broken finger bones, but those were quickly being mended by Cid and Yuna. Barely visible tendrils of light trailed from the orbs circling him, flowing towards his wounds, mending them effortlessly.
    An icy pauldron appeared on his shoulder as the Invoker's voice rang inside his head, Shiva's Guard! The pauldron shattered, and an icy nova spread quickly throughout the room. Normally cold enough to stiffen joints and slow the movement of all foes it touched, it now did little but provide much needed relief from the heat as it washed over his allies. He may not seem very coherent, but it looks like he knows how to help.
    Without delay, he bent to his task. As he knelt and began to draw water from the ground to fill the crater, the blue orbs sank back into his chest, and orange orbs appeared to take their place. The rate at which water filled the pool increased dramatically while he scanned the room, preparing for the next phase of his plan.
    Last edited by mkfuba07; 2012-08-08 at 02:53 AM.
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