Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[Merciless Medic]

Noah & Gav​

Date: September 10, 2067

Location: OUTRIGGER, Kāʻanapali Beach Resort, Hawaii

Collab with The Regal Rper

What a way to end a trip. The buzzing in his phone went unchecked as he parted ways with the other person he had just glanced at.

He honestly couldn't say he was surprised. From what he heard from those he was charged with overseeing, most of them had lost any interest in any DWMA related event after this. Or at least ones hosted for this program.

It was the same thing, over and over, though it differed here and there from mouth to mouth. It made him laugh or chuckle one or two times. And he had to explain, he couldn't blame them.

Shit like this just seemed to come with the job.

If it wasn't apocalyptic starting demigods back from a deep slumber to flip the world upside down or traumatized victims of an abusive family relationship trying to please their toxic relatives, it was a random surprise behind any of the numbered doors and someway or another it was not guaranteed those surprises would be good.

If anything all this reminded him of was PAEAN. Their time on the island had been supposed to be for a fraction of the month, not cut as short as it had been. That was what he had at least had heard from his cousins. One mage who had been offering volunteer support for the program, the other a Weapon that had been there to supervise other Weapons in the program that had been having issues managing their more elemental based abilities.

He had thought the Twisted Joke was that one shot life had been itching to get out of its system, but apparently, the Law of Chaos was rated E for everyone at any point in time, and liked to strike more than once in a blue moon.

He himself was frustrated. Not just in the shared mutual feeling he had about the situation but how it had made him essentially revert to a worse state of his old self. The part of him that just didn't care about anyone in the grand scheme of things if it didn't align with his own interests. Even Nadia hadn't been safe if she had continued down the line of making him feel slighted, he knew for a fact he would have moved on her instantly without mercy. And that was what had him the most frustrated. Noah, popped into his mind but Gav didn't even think long about their situation, all the negative thoughts he had had about that evaporated the moment clarity slapped him back in the face, and even if the negative feelings lingered, he now knew they had no solid basis and that was enough for him to forcefully push those feelings away and channel that negativity into his fury at the source of all this.

Problem was he didn't know who had, so like everyone else, he couldn't make them pay.

What a way to end a night.

The buzz got his attention this time and when he glanced at his phone it was from Noah.

The thought of ignoring it for now crossed his mind, but the brief glimpse of the text message he saw spiked his curiosity.

Reading over the text had him frowning immediately, and before his phone was even gone he used soul perception to track him down and when he did, he paused at the sight of the crying Weapon.

"...Noah, sheesh, heh" it was an awkward chuckle despite the small little grin, "c'mon dude don't be getting all teary on me. We are okay alright?"

Finally, Gav was nearby. The panic attack continued, unfortunately, as Noah looked up at him, as if trying to assess if he was real or not. He just slowly moved to Gav and wrapped his arms around him, fear engulfing him once again, making his knuckles bone white as he gripped his clothes tightly to stave off the numbness creeping up his arms. "I-I-I-I th…" He choked. He couldn't even get his sentence out as he fell apart in quiet, intense sobs. He did manage as he stubbornly tried again. "I thought y-you'd l-leave me… I-I w-was so weird… A-An' to s-someone who w-was so h-happily taken an' a sis to me, I- just…" The thought of him losing the connections and friends he had from all this, him being alone again like when he was young, left his knees growing weak.

Clutching at the Meister, he attempted communication through their souls. 'I-I d-don't wanna be ab-abandoned again c-cuz of so-somethin' I d-didn't even d-do… Not a-again…'

As much as Noah attempted to be strong and tough and act like the experience when he was a kid didn't affect him or leave a scar, he was lying. It always bothered him and he counted his blessings in the form of his friends since Sara made him her friend. But now, he felt like all of that was in jeopardy just because someone wanted to play a stupid game of "spin the bottle".

He could feel the trembling in his hands even as he gripped him and that was before the hitched breathing against him. Gav stayed still while Noah held on to him like he was the floating device saving him from drowning.

He could feel the stretched hand reaching out through resonance and Gav had a thought as he considered their situation and his mind wandered back with a sudden random thought asking a simple question: What would a Phoenix do?

A Phoenix would, in fact, tell Noah to get a hold of himself, dry his tears, and be thankful he hadn't made a horrible situation out of every contact he still had. They'd be blunt, the words wouldn't be affectionate or gentle, wouldn't be soft like the times he only ever saw his mother behave with his father or in the rare instances with him when they were in the Realm- as an accepted Phoenix now, he should have grabbed Noah by the shoulders and forcefully made him see that his tears were for nothing.

Flatly told him he was only making a fool of himself now.

His relationships would be fine. And if they weren't after this, good riddance.

No one wanted 'friends' for a moment that vanished when you were in need the next.

And as his hands moved, he considered for a brief second telling him to stop crying, but then he felt the pain Noah shared through the resonance he had allowed, saw a flicker of a memory of what he had lost, what he had-- and instead of the old Gav rising; feeling angry, feeling envious for friendships that he had never seen, feeling lower than Noah for being able to express fragility where he would have been talked down for it by his sister, brother, cousins, aunts-- he placed his hand on his head and wrapped his other arm around him supportively and said in the gentlest voice few souls ever heard him use, "You aren't going to lose a thing because of this. Not me. Not your friends. No one's going to abandon you, shrimp.

Finally, Noah's sobbing lost its intensity, a gentle touch and sweet words of reassurance all he needed. Well, for now at least. Until the fear came back to tear open that wound again. But it was the glimpses he saw through the slight resonance with Gav that had him pausing and looking up at him. Gratitude surged through him, and he sniffled. "Thank y-you…" He then continued within their connection. 'I'm sorry for what they did to you. They look pretty shitty back then, hurting you like that.' Fleeting anger arose, but it soon died, as Noah used that to anchor himself and calm down again.

Sighing, he smirked, but more out of nervousness. "I, uh… haven't cried like that since… um… I'd like to live with ya f'r a while… I… yer my anchor right now… N-not like you'll leave me but… it's assurance… just in case this old scar hurts again." Because he knew it would, it happened before, just with less tears and more depression that warped his behavior and made him an asshole.

'If it'll help, then sure' was his reply and gentle pat. "I can't have you crying like this again. Prefer if it was because I was too rough on you and your brain was still catching up then sobbing."

The vulgar joke had him chuckling, albeit only short due to his mind throbbing in discomfort from his sobbing. "And ya choose that to say aloud of all things." He smirked and looked up at him, only for his smirk melting into a gracious smile. "I'm so lucky to have you…" It just came out and his face turned red, prompting him to hide his face against his chest. While Noah's face and hands felt numb and prickly, he was slowly yet surely recovering.

Affectionately patting his head as he hid away, Gav chuckled. A vibrating sound Noah might've felt through his chest.

"Love you too, shrimp." Ignoring the fact he wasn't actually that tall. Still, a fitting nickname for thunderstick anyway.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara Middleton​

Date: September 10, 2067
Location: OUTRIGGER, Kāʻanapali Beach Resort, Hawaii
Interactions: Gauss, Annika
Mentions: Wes
Sir Les Paul Mook-LandStrider

Sara turned on her soul smelling ability and found him… Furious. Mad. Upset. It was strange. Why was he mad? He didn’t do anything wrong.

Of course, Sara couldn’t really understand the vitriol and hate towards himself. She never thought anybody would hate themselves or believe that what had happened out there wasn’t them. Did Gauss believe in something like that?

It was something she didn’t fully understand, nor did she want to ask for fear it’d set him off. She just let her arms rest at her sides as she gave him an apologetic smile. “Ah, well… I wish there was more I could do for you. There’s not really much I can say to make this better so uh… I hope you work out what you’re going through, Gauss. I’m sure you confide in Noah more, but if you ever need an ear to listen, then I got four of them.” She chuckled, then noticed Annika was there. Her ears fell back, feeling like she just walked in and didn’t read the room properly. Though, that might actually help Gauss with whatever he was dealing with. She waved them goodbye and walked back to her bed, having seen Wes leave earlier but she decided not to give chase. He was probably going through something similar Gauss was going through.

She’d just have to text Wes later and tell him she didn’t hate his guts.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Downtown Los Angeles, California

Alameda Street

Nighttime | Monday, September 19th, 2067​

“Evil has always existed, the perfect world most people seek shall never come to pass and it’s gonna get worse.”​

Evil is precisely what those six saw that evening. The LAPD was massively overwhelmed with calls and reports even before the sun set, and afterwards, it had only grown worse. If it were truly possible to put all of downtown LA on a lockdown with a strict curfew, every precinct in the area would have. Unfortunately, they lacked the manpower to do so even if they could muster the political leverage to put one on place. It didn't matter. The threat of violence, torture, murder, and possibly even worse didn't dissuade everyone from living their lives. It was nigh-impossible to shut the city down, whether it was daytime or dead of night. Even if it would have been for their own good.

In their last few hours shadowing their police affiliates, the group had responded to and even seen firsthand a myriad of crimes that painted humanity as the utter filth they could be. Robbery, rape, murder, senseless stabbings, and unironically, very little it of gang-affiliated; or, at least, the normal gangs in the area. Drugs were oddly uncommon, but then again, most of the crimes they had seen thus far were those of senseless violence or greed. No one out here was looking for a good trip. Break-ins and small businesses being violated by the dirty hands of the scum of the city were unfortunately common.

And, worst of all? They still hadn't found what they searching for yet. The people they had encountered thus far? Crime scenes they saw, violence they witnessed, and on a rare occasion were able to effortlessly stop with more efficacy than their police escorts... they were merely those of opportunists. Some were addicts looking to get their next set of goods to sell off for a fix, some were the homeless seeking shelter or retaliating, some were just insane or absurd, looking for an outlet. None were the truly maddened they were after.

But, that begs the question, why would a group from the DWMA--Fate Agents or otherwise--be put on this type of police patrol? Sure, they were massive boons to the force and did no small amount of good to help, but it was rare that agents of the DWMA did anything for local enforcement. The DWMA had vested interests in a different type of evil.

The answer was complicated.

Downtown LA was no stranger to crime, but recent weeks had an explosion in not just crime rates, but their nature. Crimes became charged with marks of Satanism, harsh violence, grotesque scenes, nightmarish imagery, and a new cult-like gang that struck fear into even the hardened gangbangers in the areas: The Nightstalkers. At first, the LAPD believed them to be a group of copycat killers, but that proved false. They were something else. Something inhuman. Some could go on after being shot repeatedly and keep running, keep committing these crimes. Some drew their manic power from pentagrams drawn in blood, some were already partly mad and having outbreaks because of it.

The DWMA had sent various agents in this time to help out, to hunt down the Corrupted Souls present. In fact, it became so well-known that many individuals from the DWMA wanting to reap a large sum of souls for their Demon Weapon would request to patrol the area. That was until even they became prey. One and two-star groups alike all soon fell victim to an unknown force in the area, and crime only continued. The DWMA sent stronger agents, but they did not run into the same danger. Perhaps they were too powerful, but such was hard to believe given the sheer scale of these outbreaks and how intelligent this cult seemed to be.

Instead, the DWMA captured several of these cultists. It took time. The streets were overrun with red herrings and standard criminals acting like vultures in the chaos. These few cultists explained very little. Most rambled on, telling the agents that it didn't really matter. That nothing mattered and that all humanity should live out their carnal desires, no matter what they were. Some ranted on with senseless pride, telling the agents and interrogators that they wouldn't understand. That they were not expected to. That they were beyond good and evil. Evil was nothing. It existed inside of everyone, and thus, it was nothing special. They insisted they were more.

And, their bodies offered some validation to that. Some were not yet truly corrupted souls, but their bodies were different. More durable. Morphed into some type of odd hybrid between a Corrupted Soul and a human. Some grey area between. It was no wonder the LAPD struggled to fight them. They were of course a little stronger, a little faster, but mostly, durable beyond any human means. Some were found with dozens or more of small arms bullets lodged inside them, scars or wounds still healing from damage from stabbings to near evisceration. Yet, they seemed in perfect health.

This ongoing investigation only bore any fruit in recent times. A single cultist that elected to turn themselves in. One that requested to speak to the DWMA. They honored his request. He explained that their powers were born from the blood they shed, and they continued to grow from it. The more they indulged in their carnal desires, the more they grew. True thought it may be that they were still far outmatched by even the most green of DWMA Agents, but they also had such a simple way of getting in. To join this cult, they merely drank from a wooden goblet what they called the Blood of the Night. From there, they became the deranged beings they were. Empowered within the night, asleep by the day.

More so, he told them that they all served the night. And, that from the so-called priests within their cult, the only one that their god would answer to was one that had seen the flames of hell. He went on at length about how their black-eyed priests, those that had commit the most violence and sin, claimed to have seen Hell itself. A realm of black flame and eternal agony. It was an afterlife wherein to achieve nirvana, they must act in life as they would want to act eternally upon their damnation. It was a place where their paradise could only exist if they were judged in this life so harshly that Hell would welcome them.

At first, this seemed like nonsense. Then along came reports of the Black Flames from various sources. Piecing together the mystery, there aligned a question as to whether the Hell these cultists referred to was the same as the realm of black flame spoken of by other agents. Eventually, this theory was tested. Nadia and Dani were brought to meet this cultist and before words were even said, he was sent into an anxious panic, claiming Dani had tread the black flames of Hell far deeper than any of the priests he knew. He was terrified. He wanted nothing more than protection. As it turned out, he had a soul resistant to Madness. In another lifetime, he would have made a great agent. In this lifetime, all he managed to do was fight the corruption from the ceremonial blood consumed by the others. He rejected their carnal evil, and in turn, tried to help the DWMA. The so-called forces of good.

That is how these six agents ended up within downtown LA. Dani was considered the key to this mission and the Fate Agents put into place, with backup on call if the situation became too dangerous for them. It hadn't yet.

Then came the deeper, darker part of the night. The agents had spent some time adjusting their sleep schedules specifically for this, knowing that crime grew worse and the cultists came out most commonly after midnight. Finally, they arrived in their police cruisers at a site that matched all of the criteria. Stemar Equipment and Repair, a small business on Stelee Street, was broken into. The perp was found tore apart, viciously beaten inside until his skull was a bloody pulp. He was both the criminal and the victim. Surrounding him were various pieces of small equipment stored inside a rolling cart to run off with; repairing them was part of what this business did. The cultist left their calling card in the form of the ritualistic pentagram drawn on the ground in his blood with, at its core, a blood-covered DeWalt router at its center. A symbol of the greed the man had commit.

Just as with the other break-ins, the six agents were brought in one by one after the police had secured the area. Except this time, they were of use. The ritualistic site had no magic to it. Instead, it was marked with a spiritual glow none of the group had ever seen. The pentagram with their Soul Perception lit up like a neon sign, though the rest of the body was left intact. There was odd, spiritual pressure in the area. Far weaker and much different than the entire atmosphere created by the forest in Valaam, but indicative that something was disturbing the natural order of things.

Whatever that something was, it didn't leave without a trace. Once the ritual was complete--and it mostly certainly was fresh--it left a trail of blood along the ground, leading right out of the building via its fire door entrance to the street it shared with the restaurant beside it on the block. This was precisely what they were tasked to find. A recent cultist attack and a chance to chase down the cultist and see how they reacted to Dani. Now, they simply had to find them. With Sara to track a scent and Nadia possessing decent Soul Perception, they had multiple means. Raph also had plenty of options for restraint, as did Adrian.

The manhunt was on.

The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Merciless Medic Mook-LandStrider​

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Cairo, Egypt - En route - Qena, Egypt
September - 18th - 20th

​

In the days to come from the vacation of Hawaii, and the trials and tribulations that resulted in its aftermath, plus, as far as the agents knew, a lackluster investigation into its cause. Regardless, the days to come would be swift, awkward for sure, but also swift. All three teams as they were now, would be assigned to missions close and far, though the team going to Egypt would leave at the same time as the others, they would take nearly a full day longer to reach the mission area. Being given a briefing and a refresher upon arrival.

Gauss, Arkayis, Noah, Annika, Wes, Feng, Aki and Ark, the events of the vacation aside would all be given briefing by Reiko. The Objective was rather straightforward. Yet would likely be far more complex. Unlike Romania, the Egyptian Authorities had a long history with the DWMA, a land steeped in History and Ancient tales, more than a few which were true. And as was given to happen, every so often a temple or burial site would be discovered, a new plot uncovered, or even general terrorism of rouge witches, something one of their number knew all too well.

Unlike Romania, retreat would not be a consideration, short of if the situation was well and truly out of hand. The Mission would take them to the regions around Qena, Egypt. A new temple complex was discovered only on the Eastern bank of the Nile, which was transcribed as The Temple of the Three Kings, keepers of Anubis, and the great watchers. Or as dubbed by initial reports, “The Eastern Shrine”. From the last field reports and witness testimony is that no sooner than the site was unveiled were the Dead to walk in the form of Zombies and Mummies. Sweeping over the local regions, no sooner than the initial reports were sent of the discovery to Cairo. Local investigations have been inconclusive, other than there is indeed a problem going on, with agents focusing attention to routes South and North, of Asyut and Luxor to keep the undead in check. Currently the issue is not out of hand and even in Qena civilian population remains, the situation however is tense with many locals reporting having seen Anpu, the Children of Anubis according to local Egyptians, shepherding the undead or as if desperately searching for something. Having been thought to be extinct, seeing multiples of the jackal headed species was a shock to most, while there had been individual sightings or rumors over the centuries, they had never paraded about so openly and in number.

The objective was three-fold, one, investigate the archeological site and discover the cause of this outbreak of the undead. Two, determine the sudden appearance and purpose of the till now, thought to be extinct Anpu. And three, resolve the incident and return the situation to normal if possible. Investigation work that could and likely would drift into combat. To top it off a local guide would be arranged for, who had proper credentials and support of the Egyptian Government. The Egyptians would not throw the DWMA to the mercy of the wolves. However, the guide would likely not be decided upon till they arrived in Egypt.

With a series of flights and layovers stretching from Reno, going across the Atlantic to Europe and finally southward to Cairo International Airport, the Agents were given a rather distinctive meeting, first were representatives of the DWMA Africa Office, and an Egyptian man in a well-tailored suit and eyes that spoke of sleepless nights, Adel El Almasi, there on behalf of the Egyptian Government. The usual pleasantries were exchanged and new information, as well as difficulties were brought to the forefront.

The remaining DWMA Agents in Egypt that were not manning the barriers in the North and South were now busy with the Egyptian military as the undead awakening was now spreading to the massive burial sites in the Valley of the Kings and other nearby tombs to the West of Qena, with direct combat having broken out and Qena's state was considered dire. While the Minister understood that the Agents were tired, sleep was a luxury, though they would have 6 hours to travel, it was deemed safer to use a motorcade than to attempt an insertion via helicopter. Not that it much mattered, with Egyptian assets already in use elsewhere. Supplies for at least a four day long operation were arranged for.

The minister also asked the Agents, if possible to be as light on colleterial damage as they could be over the course of the operation. This however was a request with a bit of a lean into it, rather than an Order. The meaning was clear, the Egyptians would take offense if an important historical site were leveled, but in good faith they could not just tell the Agents that given they had requested the help.

In addition to all of this, it was revealed that while pressing, the "activation" and deployment of the undead seemed rather sporadic. They at the very least would not be overwhelmed upon landing, but after that... Or once they reached the site all of this started? Well, that could not be promised. However, they did assign and escort that would direct them all the way south to the Northern Line before parting ways, and the Guide they were assigned one Michael M. Moreau. A tomb explorer that had been in Egypt for over a decade, he was noted to be a prior ruin diver with experience as a monster hunter and specializing in the disarming of traps. It was stressed he was well into his years and would not be joining in any Combat actions of the group.

It was scantly and hour later that they would meet Mister Moreau and their 6-hour trip would start in a convoy of five Jeep like vehicles which were painted white and stained by sand. Bit by bit as time ticked on, three of the jeeps pulled away as the group passed an improvised defensive line that had seen some use over the previous days, most traffic on the roads in the morning sun were heading northbound, with the only south bound traffic being the trio of jeeps heading south. For his part Moreau was in the passanger seat of the leading Jeep, being driven for this stretch by Gauss.

They were nearing the campsite, or rather what was left of it at the Eastern Shrine. Any further details or advice on site would come from guide, though it was clear that Gauss was in actual command and could ignore the words of his guide if he so wished. If they wished to talk, each Meister and weapon team was assigned on per vehicle, with short ranged Radio's keyed in to talk to one another, unless they wished for such communication on site and on foot. Food, water, medical supplies and camping gear were in the back of all three, with those of Annika and Feng carrying the bulk of supplies, as Gauss had three passengers.

EmperorsChosen (Aki) Sir Les Paul (Gauss) The Regal Rper (Ark) Merciless Medic (Moreau - Noah) Shotgunpenguin (Wes) Peckinou (Arky) Mook-LandStrider (Annika)

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Daniella Ethalyn - Streets of LA
​

With the events of that night and the copycat killers evolving, or devolving as far as Nadia was concerned, into a cult killing wanna be Vampires. To Dani being called a demon and more shit to do with that black fire, prompting Nadia to say; “You know Dani, Hopefully this doesn’t keep recurring, given what you said, that world broke off and ended for a reason. Heh And Demon, I’ll have to be something worse then.” Once all was said and done it seemed they had found a fresh body, well, what was likely once a body, complete with cult bullshit and the focus of their mission…

“Maybe they’re talking about my wavelength or soul? I dunno why they’d know about that place,” Dani mused, not particularly amused at being called Satan several times through the day.

Studying the scene briefly and discovering the blood trail leading away, Nadia nudged portions of the body to be sure what had been done. It was disturbing the crime scene, but this one was disturbed enough already and not within the ability of the LAPD to deal with. This city was a shithole as far as she was concerned, but such things could not be left to fester, given how it pulled at the strings of Madness, the whole thing was something else. It did not bother her, so much as irked her, more so this pentagram they left behind. Stretching out with Soul Perception, she was somewhat surprised by the returns she was getting, more so visually.

“Huh.. Interesting, seems somehow, they are leaving behind soul signatures in all of this. Body is still a little warm, they could not have gotten far, and cultists aren’t known for being smart.”

“They have to be a little fuckin’ smart to grow while staying hidden… seems too obvious,” Dani murmured.

“Not so. The leaders must be “smart”, but the fact we already knew they existed before that one turned themselves in, already makes them idiots. Think of how many things there are we don’t know about…” Still, this was more than enough to go off of, and Nadia was irritated with needing to change her sleep schedule for this.

Nadia was quick to give directives, while she was not interested in micromanaging their every action, provided her current team would even allow themselves to be directed as such. While she and Gauss differed a lot in the qualities of a leader, the ice queen did not care much to cross the line of Woman of Steel, to Dictator.

“Sara, I want you to take Eva with you, track down that blood, you have the nose for it, if your ears pick up something let me know. I’ll be right behind you using soul perception so the idiots can’t get a drop on us. Raph you I want you and Adrian behind me, both of you act to grab us a couple of them should we catch up. Otherwise you all may act as you see fit. It is important we take some of these alive. Dani, with me.”

Nadia said, holding her hand out for her partner. “We move with speed and purpose.”

“I wonder if they’ll call me a demon even when I’m in weapon form…” Dani murmured, transforming into Nadia’s hand.

“We shall soon see…”

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Dani) Sir Les Paul (Adrian) Merciless Medic (Sara - Raph) Mook-LandStrider (Eva)

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Eloise Keegan - Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

'Then you need to get your head in the game-' Elly chastised curtly, narrowly avoiding yet another arrow from their mystery adversary. Unlike his tone, hers was still reserved, however with a noticeable irk to her tone. Perhaps she had grown a little bit too comfortable and didn't feel as much of a need to hide it when she was displeased. 'Our connection is weak, and even if it wasn't, this person isn't a weakling.'

Channeling wavelength as she drew on the bowstring, Elly focused on the soul signature of the rogue meister, peering out from behind cover before letting loose a series of tracking arrows.

This was not how she planned this mission to go. She suspected Midori was up to something when he insisted fervently on chasing Stein, which was stark contrast to his opinions in Romania, and even now his mind wandered. Honestly, she was reaching the extent of her patience, however Elly also didn't want him completely shutting down. A weak connection was better than none at all.

'You need to give me information. I don't know what I don't know, and right now you have us fighting bloody blind,' Elly remarked once again. If he was so interested in these others, then he knew something about them, possibly something that could help.

"I'll cover you as you move!" It hadn't flown over Elly's head that this meister was using eerily similar techniques as hers, however she could at least throw down the proverbial smoke screen.

Channeling her wavelength into the bowstring again, she drew back, launching several incognito arrows, one around the groups immediate area and several more further ahead in their path. It should at least disrupt the meister's shots a little bit.

Sir Les Paul The Regal Rper Haze- RedArmyShogun

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | Hallerbos Forest, Belgium

It wasn't everything going out the window that bothered him when they arrived. It hardly made him bat an eye considering this sort of situation was both what he had considered in the back of his mind, and what he had grown up used to.

What did bother him was the noticeable shift in Midori.

What on earth had him press so hard about them pursuing three targets well above their capabilities?

He knew who Astilla Stein was, not just because of her credit but because he had to do his research on many POI, the Enlighteners liked to stay aware of. She wasn't someone he believed he could beat even with a Weapon that could handle his wavelength and gave him the power to match Kenny in a fight. Knowing who she was was important for Enlighteners to know for their own benefit more than it held any other gain aside. The fact she had been present and intervened at all in the researchers activities was suspicious enough. Going after her however was an entirely different matter.

He had argued with Midori that chasing Astilla and her pursuers now was insane, and had his former mentor not brought up the concept of calling back up in for support, he would have stuck to pushing back against the idea of pursuing at all. With Western European branch members mobilizing, Zosar was slightly more at ease- but that ease faded rapidly as they began their pursuit in earnest.

He didn't know everything about Midori's past life. Hell, he made sure he didn't talk much about his own. Between the year or so they knew each other he had never talked about his family or any personal details. That was how he wanted it. As such, what he did know had been enough. He had never had a reason to dig for more.

Right now, he didn't think that anymore.

He knew at one point in his life Midori had been a spy, a choice that had not been his own; knew about some of the struggles he had faced as a result. Knew there had been foul play magic involved, after Hawaii and his talks with Ark on his research, he could see how more clearly, which had made him much more understanding to his former mentor's position.

Now however, he wished he had something that allowed him to understand what exactly was going on with Midori. He could see the growing dissonance in the resonance between Midori and Elly and that wasn't just happening because of that damn annoying whining every single arrow made when it flew at a target. It may have played an effect from what he could feel of their attempts to shake up the stable resonance between him and Wren, but it wasn't the only factor.

Probably after surviving those damn arrows, he would get some answers.

He dodged the first, keeping off one tree and landing with a slide, then using Wren's flat end of the blade, swatted aside the second then brought his right arm up, Wren in hand, and slashed through the third. Each strike that knocked an arrow down he felt a nudge, as if an attempt to shake their resonance, but each time, Wren held stable against his wavelength.

If it had been any other Weapon, there would have been an interruption in their resonance, rhythm of both souls might have retaliated with micro rejection, ruining their stability. Throwing micro rejection between them both. With Wren's wavelength though, the likelihood of that from these potshots didn't occur as he had been told.

Such a conundrum.

Although he wasn't a fan of being diminished in the use of his soul's raw power, he had been right about Wren.

She was a gem, and the feeling of appreciation he felt for her capability in holding firm, resonated back to her through their meager stable link.

At the sight of the three incoming arrows, faster and more powerful, Zosar grimaced and the feeling of appreciation traded for concentration.

5% of his power felt like bearing new weights you were adjusting to, with Adra he had managed to hit 18% stable, 20% her max before their partnership had ended, but Wren in testing had managed his average 8 with ease, never even showing an ounce of acknowledgement till he pushed it to a 10, where most would be able to handle that for a few hours she hadn't even felt it save the brief acknowledgement it was more than she would expect from a meister whose soul appeared normal in size.

Right now they were going at 15 and she still handled it without any sense of strain. The only shift he felt from Wren when he had given her this dosage, was a momentary bit of surprise that didn't do anything to their stable resonance. In all honesty it was both amazing and slightly frustrating because he kept forgetting that she wouldn't buckle in pain if he pushed more at her than he ever would with any other Weapon. After only a week together of this, it was hard for him to just believe she could take more than most Weapons without her unique abilities could; not when all his life he had been taught to restrain himself and only gained a better grasp on control with Midori's extended family aid.

Those arrows though, his eyes narrowed as he watched Elly fire back, three more arrows passing him for Maria and his own rapidly approaching.

'Three at once this time,' he warned her through their link. Strong enough for them to telepathically speak clearly with each other and no distortion, strong enough to feel the surface emotions of one another but not strong enough to share things they didn't want the other to know about unless they willed it or unless the emotion was strong like fury or disgust.

Zosar had to remind himself as the arrows closed, Wren might not buckle from this.

He knew Fia said she could handle it. She wasn't the first Weapon with a unique wavelength he had paired with. She was certainly the first however whose wavelength handled his so easily.

Adra and Markus had been terribly stubborn when presented a challenge, Becky took challenges on with spite. Wren had so far handled what he had thrown at her with ease. Fia had told him she couldn't be overloaded, that she would be his perfect match, even if their definition of perfect was at odds.

Yet even if he had been told that, he wasn't about to believe it right off the bat. He would believe it when he personally saw it.

Besides there were other things keeping him from feeding his Werewolf Weapon partner more of what he had been told, she could handle. Fia hadn't sensed that subtle spike within Wren the first time their hands touched and they had tested resonance.

She hadn't felt her wavelength spike in both delight and surprise. When his had touched hers, he had felt something that reminded him of Adra. That lethargic state of ominous energy associated with Madness, shivering at the presence of his chaotic soul stepping into it's spiritual atmosphere.

It didn't bother him then, only made him something to keep in mind and eye of. Now, in the heat of the moment, with Midori acting strange and his own general sense of understanding on Elly's dwindling patience, Maria also needing necessary support even if she did have an army of dolls at her command, he had to keep Wren's slumbering side in mind.

So when he pushed more of his wavelength to her he did so in a way that even if she did take to the greater influx of power with ease, that shove of sudden power would only be like a spoonful of dessert. Only enough to give her a taste, but not enough to be a continuous flow of delicious delight.

The rush of power he had grown used to feeling through every fiber of his body since he was a kid, felt weaker, and some part of him disliked that. Hated it even. It felt wrong and he couldn't fathom why that small part of him felt that way when this was something they had wanted. Control of power greater than any one person could handle even if it cost a fraction of that power usage.

The other part loved being able to use Full Amplification without having to constantly consciously monitor his power output. The divided attention wasn't needed here. His attention was sharpened and it snuffed out the greediness within him that desired much much more than simple control and shared with Wren a sense of amused surprise and impress. With his muscles prepped, now came the next part.

'Wren, brace yourself, I'm going to cut through those, but you'll need to rev your engine with what I give you.'

The second after he said this through their link, Zosar's soul swelled as he released a larger dose of his wavelength through their link.

This time, he didn't stop the rush of energy that poured in. Not only was this larger to what he had given moments ago, where the raw sensation should have been exceptionally intense, due to her wavelength, that intensity which should have overwhelmed her was diminished. Instead where intensity should have been felt, it was the raw amount he gave, and kept on giving without exhaustion as if it were easy, limitless, that should have been felt.

For Wren, using Rev Up with what Zosar was giving would have been far easier than it ever had been before with past Meister's. Even with her own original one. This move required training to pull off steadily, and in the past due to her difficult compatibility it might have taken longer than a week to be able to pull it off for more than a few seconds, and with how demanding her Madness could make her, exhaustion was guaranteed to be a factor in using this technique for longer periods. But for their second time using the move, Zosar had her do it with surprising ease.

He didn't seem even a little winded like her first partner had the first time they had even done it for a couple seconds, with what he threw at her, it seemed barely something he felt slowed him down where every partner since FATE felt contrary that she asked too much. He poured however and kept it steady at the same rate without really worrying too much as he did so, focusing on the incoming arrows as he both moved to swing and moved to maneuver around as he did so.

Mentions: Sir Les Paul RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen

Interactions: Haze-

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Hallerbos Forest, Belgium

​

To say this situation was a nuisance would be an understatement, the flowers while interesting, were more of a study subject of Chanterelle, she would have been better suited to a cramp forest, and unlike Maria, the subject matter of the mission, outside of the rescue was akin to a theory exercise for her. A curious byproduct than a study that called to her craftsman like nature. Still, it did bare worth paying attention to, if only for the expectations fostered by Rand.

So, Maria went along with it, not much caring if she just had to follow orders. Not much caring that they seemed to be off on a fools errand in chasing a fugitive that Midori seemed just a bit too insistent upon. It reminded her of the events of Hawaii. No, if anything this was much more worse. But she was not in command, so even still as their objective and mission were thrown away or refocused. No, if anything, such chaos, while it did bother one so tied to order and creation, these had been things that Rand and her teams had forced several times by now.

No, it was that whoever and whatever this was, had the nerve to fire upon her in a woods. For whatever reason these potshots had proven more problematic to the two Meisters than it had herself, witches such as herself had the senses to keep up with the allies who were once hunters, yet now, those senses seemed to be failing them. Was this a wavelength attack? If so then the question was if the Meister facing them had a Demon Weapon. Then there were the two mystery others. Maria had wondered why no traces of the witches they were sent here for had not been sensed. No, it was greatly concerning they had not been.

It was then that yet another salvo came in, this one faster, organized and aimed at key, specific points of the body. They might could not see their target, but she highly doubted it could not see her. Maria found her talents were simply not being put to use, Elly simply did not know what she could do.

As the three arrows came in, Maria deftly snapped her fingers as a number of red glowing wires formed from her left hand, connecting to her medium doll as it shunted into place in front of her, the clang of steel and the THUNK of the arrowheads sinking into her armored wall. Causing her to scowl, as she spoke alloud.

"If you would like, I can take to the air and attempt to draw her fire, or I can clear some of the foliage with wind magic and my darlings. Or I can send my dearest Alicia forward with anchoring points and attempt to flank from where the firing comes. Bear in mind I cannot keep up with the speed of a Meister that is mobile, short of in flight. Or do you have other instructions for I?"

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Elly) Sir Les Paul (Midori) The Regal Rper (Zosar) Haze- (Wren)

 

[Merciless Medic]

Michael M. Moreau

---

Mission: Disturbance in Qena w/ RedArmyShogun

Sir Les Paul Peckinou Mook-LandStrider Shotgunpenguin EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper

Date: September 20th, 2067
Location: En Route to Qena's Shrine, Egypt

---

Meeting the group he was to guide the day before, Moreau found this job a parallel to showing off old ruins and sites to researchers. This job only differed in the danger level, of which he wished he were younger to help out more. He helped them get set up for the ride at night, making sure they wouldn’t freeze in the chilling darkness of Egypt’s cruel temperatures and making sure they had everything to prevent them from overheating once the sun rose. The 19th rolled over to the 20th as they traveled south, leaving at midnight with the sunrise being seen two-thirds through their trip.

The sun had already risen a couple hours ago in the wee hours of the morning, the morning light bathing the sand in a crisp golden glow that was no less harsh on the eyes from the noon sun. In the distance as they neared the shrine, Moreau switched from trying to make small talk with the group of relative children to becoming a live source of information. He pointed at the large structure with a languid gesture, making sure his comms with the others were on so they may also hear this.

“Wake up, kiddos! That’s the destination. Hope I didn’t bore you with small talk because I’ll have to tell you about this place. I’ll keep it brief.” He spoke as if he were a grandfather, his tone gravelly and rich from age. “A couple weeks ago, this shrine, known as the Eastern Shrine, was found, then a couple days after that we started seeing the undead and mummies walk around as if they owned the place, and it’s just getting worse. I dunno how they found the place so quickly, but the team that found the place was a four-man team. Professor Manu Mubarak, researcher Ismael Nader, tomb raider and trap disarmer Ralph Evans, and the historian expert Edmund El Sadat.” He cleared his throat, finding the subject uncomfortable.

“Their findings included artifacts, and whatever story they could glean from the hieroglyphs. They didn’t age too well, there’s a rumor going around that the hieroglyphs were damaged long ago in an attempt to obscure its message. Whatever message it was, it’s something about some three important men back then and it has honor markings for Anubis. Nobody has been able to get in touch with Professor Mubarak, or anyone from the group, since the undead appeared. It’s been a little over a week since we last had contact, and previous scout missions to find them yielded nothing but undead.” He then pointed to a spot nearby the shrine, next to the dilapidated campsite. “Let’s park near this campsite. It’ll mean a bit of a walk into the shrine itself, but we don’t want the undead messing with our jeeps. Rather be safe than sorry. Plus, there might be something in this campsite worth taking a look-see. Got any questions, ask them now.”

He waited for questions and for Gauss to stop the jeep, getting antsy just being here. He wished he were younger, as his shoulder was starting to ache with anticipation.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Thaddeus Thales​

"Gauss"​

Species Human
Partner Noah Wiley, Arkayis Misonuka
Rank Fate Agent

Location En route to new temple, Egypt
Mission TBD
Status Focused

​

Tags: Merciless Medic Peckinou Meredith Mook-LandStrider EmperorsChosen Shotgunpenguin The Regal Rper

Ever since their return from Hawaii, Gauss found himself in a bleak state of near depression. His mind and soul were not stuck in some dark, murky swamp. He was not trudging through thick, vicious sludge, held back by the resistance of unseen foliage beneath the cold, opaque waters or in some darkness from a canopy of evergreens so thick it blotted the sun. Instead, the darkness within him stemmed from his very heart. A new found discomfort and distaste with the person he was. Worse, how hopeless he felt about the prospect of getting better.

Gauss had never faced this type of struggle. In all his life, he felt as if and in fact told he could be or do anything if he set his mind to it. That belief was ingrained into him so deeply it was part of his very identity. He was never so egocentric that failure was not an option, but he never believed he was truly unable to do something. Just that he hadn't tried hard enough or wanted it bad enough.

That belief and confidence was shaken to its very core after he saw what he became back in Hawaii due to the effects of just one spell. Worse, from what he gathered, is that the spell didn't really change him. It didn't change anyone affected by it. It just brought out their worst traits and made them focus on a single person.

So, yeah, that was him. There was no arguing that.

Since then, he had recurring nightmares. Reliving that same event. He wasn't in the place of Sara or stuck in some out of body experience. No, instead, he just got to see the monster he became over and over, then reflected back on all those hearts he broken years beforehand and the cutting words his sister gifted him. He saw sometimes through her eyes the monster that her brother became. It really wasn't so different. She must have seen him as he now saw himself.

He spoke to his therapist about it. He was given a myriad of answers, none of them quelling his concerns. He was told that under extreme conditions, that type of behavior could come from even the most benign people. Thing was, it didn't. The closest thing to it were the tailchasers that were vile human beings even before the spell was cast, and that was hardly a reassuring comparison. He was told that change would take time and that he had been making progress in distancing himself from that version of himself he hated so much, but he didn't think so. He didn't agree. He tried to argue with this therapist, but to no avail.

How could he really be that far from the monster when hardly two years ago he didn't even believe it existed? When he then believed he was doing no wrong? How was he making leaps and bounds in the opposite direction when he reverted so quickly and easily?

He could hardly look Sara in the eye.

He could hardly look at himself in the mirror.

Noah even tried to console him at times, telling him Sara truthfully had no hard feelings. Gauss didn't care. Perhaps he should have cared more about how she felt. She was his victim. But, that was the problem. After all this time, he made another victim.

He went back even further. He spent some time with Bellamira, getting high, doing some soul searching, pouring out his heart. Bella knew him well. Who he was then, who he was now. The best she could tell him was that the person he used to be wouldn't be nearly as concerned or probably even understand why that version of him was a monster in the first place. That offered some solace, a certain perspective, but it didn't change the fact that he was and could be that person.

He couldn't bring himself to socialize much. Part of him feared getting closer to Annika. She could just as easily be his next victim at the rate things were going. And, honestly, he didn't feel like he deserved to enjoy himself.

That following week, Gauss didn't enjoy himself. He may have come up short on his search for answers, but he was nothing if not determined. Of all people in the world, he turned to his father. And, for the first time in years, the two had a heart to heart. Gauss... no... Thaddeus. Thaddeus poured out his heart yet again, this time to his father, and this time with different results. Their conversation bore fruit. It was easy to see Varaj as a heartless man, but that wasn't inherently true. As the man grew older and his family was torn asunder, he realized how poor his priorities had been. He knew the consequences.

Perhaps Varaj wished to correct his own mistakes or perhaps he was just trying to vicariously live through his son, it wasn't particularly clear, but he invested himself in a solution for his dear son, Thaddeus. Varaj was a man of solutions. If the problem was that his son feared who or what he would become in another situation such as the previous one, there were several solutions: first, to prevent it from happening, and second, to shut it down if it came to pass.

With that in mind and the vast fortune of the Thales, a quick and brute force solution was feasible. The technology already mostly existed for it. Gauss would willingly wear a set of inhibitor collars that would give bolster his resistances. An Anti-Magic Armband that would dispel an effect like that cast in both the April 1st event or in Hawaii, a Madness inhibitor collar, and an experimental armband that would send a surge of his own wavelength stored inside the armband that could as as a reset button to his soul. All with a harness that monitored all of his active vital signs and even the status of his soul in real time.

Whether it was magic, madness, or another wavelength, the goal was to prevent him from **ever** becoming that monster again. The resistances offered were helpful as a first line defense, but the extreme option of activating any one collar and even knocking him out if the situation arose became a great peace of mind. Especially given how little Thaddeus trusted himself. Of course, the DWMA had to be informed, but this entire system was Thaltek and done willfully. Thaddeus had a third party supervising his actions at every turn; a third party hired by his father.

That wasn't the end, either. Varaj hired on consults for this problem, sensitive as it may be, and was given various reports or opinions on how to proceed. Former Agents, criminalists, psychologists, the list went on. The decision that was made came two-fold: a new therapist with a specialty in criminal reform and a new focus on Calm Mind training at the DWMA. These two things combined would give Thaddeus, his beloved son, even more resources to take control over his mind, and his life, in the long term.

Varaj did all he could for his son, going even further than the DWMA would in their radical treatments. That is how he showed his love. It also felt, in a way, like an attempt at redemption. Apologies came in many forms.

Gauss did not enjoy that time. Calm Mind training bored him in comparison to the high-octane, exhaustive spiritual training he had focused on prior. The second therapist was more intense and time consuming than the first, going through efforts to get an even deeper psychological evaluation and treatment plan going. All the while, Gauss wanted to focus on his actual training with Arkayis and Noah.

At the very least, those two seemed okay with him. Noah was as sympathetic as ever and if anything it seemed his partner was of the opinion that Gauss was going too far. That accepting collars on himself, an experimental one at that, and that attending two therapists was just overkill. Arkayis seemed less interested or purposeful with his opinion, but at least it seemed he respected the effort Gauss put in. It seemed that, at least for the most part, Gauss had been forgiven. Then again, everyone that was in Hawaii knew that no one was in their right minds at the time, so it was fairly difficult to reasonably hold a grudge.

Not that Gauss was acting reasonable.

More notably, though, are the changes that the two could see in his very soul. During the few times the three got to train, the two noted that his new mental state had a definite accept on his spiritual state. His generally bright and glowing soul had dimmed. Internally, still appeared the same. All things rotating around him in a cloud of floating chaos, but the bright, sunshiny atmosphere was now grey and muddled. That odd pull he had for all those around him had diminished. Those trademark traits that any weapon that had ever been paired with him were now dull, to the point that the only thing remarkable was that he could in fact wield two weapons.

Despite that, in the few times he did get to train, his focus had became even more keen. Techniques and Resonance that were difficult before and even balancing between the three came to this more calm, focused version of himself more easily. Noah could feel how the wavelength that empowered him was more docile; how each spark seemed to behave and fall in line far easier. Controlling his lightning at a range or keeping it in a straight path was far easier. Arkayis could now make flames dance at his beck and call, and with this new ease, he could even make his pre-existing flames shift from their weaker red form to a their jet blue from a distance. Inherently, nothing they did was more powerful with the dimmed soul of their Meister, but it was far easier to control.

That likely wasn't entirely Gauss, however. Given that Gauss had spent time with his now two-therapists, being outfitted for his new gear, having heart-to-heart talks with Bellamira and his father, and in general trying to do some personal soul-searching, Arkayis and Noah had more time to themselves. Gauss wasn't demanding it with their absurd training. This in turn meant they had more time to do their own individual training. That might have meant Calm Mind training or their own regiments, but more so, it meant they could gladly use Gauss' credit to enlist Raya for more training with their elemental affinities and individual skills. This help in conjunction with the shift in Gauss transitioned to more control over their team-oriented abilities.

These new changes to Gauss, alongside his leadership training, had in him whole different mindset for this mission. Calm, cool, focused, observant. He was ready and willing to communicate if he needed to. Midori had made several good points during their last mission even if Gauss still didn't agree with all of them. Nadia and her style had merit, too. Gauss knew he had to adapt and improve if he expected to make headway, and that's precisely what he was doing.

Before the Jeep even stopped, Gauss was quick to reiterate the objectives of the mission, reminding everyone of what they were here for; and, it wasn't to uncover some archeological artifact. "Our objectives are to determine the origin of the undead at the site, the return of the Anpu, and get the entire area back to the status quo if possible," Gauss said aloud in a flat, monotone voice. "I'm not keen on campsite diversions--or archeological ones--if they don't ultimately aide in our objectives," he explained, making his by-the-book attitude to the mission obvious from the beginning.

"We'll search this time. There's a high likelihood that someone left something behind that could give us information that will help with the first two objectives," Gauss stated, making his decision on the subject to both the team and guide clear.

The Jeeps finally stopped and they reached the destination Moreau explained. The desert temperatures weren't going to deter Gauss. It could be just as hot--or cold--around Death City. He doubted any of the other Fate Agents would have a problem in that regard.

"As for questions, Moreau, I have two," Gauss said once he exited the Jeep. He then looked over to the guide, his golden eyes perched on the man like a hawk with its talons around a shrew. "How well do these undead burn and does electricity do anything to them? Same for the Anpu." Gauss asked.

 

[Haze-]

Wren
Hallerbos Forest, Belgium​

It felt good to be back on the field after so long. Sort of.

That fledgling, initial feeling on the earliest moment of the day— that freshness, that fizz in the chest— at least that was nice for as long as it lasted. ‘Sort of’ being the keyword. Now that they were dashing through fields upon fields of bluebell flowers, a sight that should’ve been a picturesque keep for her to remember after the deal, she didn’t know whether that tingling sensation on her chest was born of excitement or pure dread.

It was one hell of a déjà vu; just another shit-show of a mission gone goose-chase. Go figure what kind of omen that was for her. She could only hope that it was just a case of ‘returning’ jumpiness, that she could get used to the action as she had back when she was an actual asset.

Either way, there was no time to think about it too much, let alone be nervous. This one goose in particular could run like hell, as if Death himself were hot on this rogue Meister’s tail

She grumbled a stifled — “Tch…!” — as Zosar swatted the arrows headed towards them, she felt them as they broke on her. Like minute, useless prickles on the ridge of her chainblade. The fact that she barely felt them trying to stir up their resonance was somehow more annoying than if they’d managed to do so — “This fucker’s starting to get on my nerves…”

Wren chuckled, shutting off their telepathic link before those nasty thoughts of hers got to him, same way she would suddenly snap her mouth quiet at times on a conversation. This time however, she couldn’t just stop speaking and shove those ideas down her throat, her thoughts were bare and splayed out for him. She was envisioning Zosar rushing down their target, wondering how that would feel, thinking up the taste of that hypothetical.

It wasn’t until he warned her about the upcoming arrows that she sobered up, realized she was thinking with her gut again. Getting greedy; even though she was already well satisfied with the rush that came with taking in Zosar’s wavelength. She took a moment— awareness, control— then she replied — “Got it.” — She had to stay focused, if she went unstable then their perfect tempo would become sloppy.

There were things on the line, things that mattered more than her stomach feeling empty right now.

Resonating with Zosar had been an inexplicable experience since the moment their hands locked, even in that brief touch they shared at first, she could feel the sheer vastness of his soul. Like an all-enveloping, endless storm— taking up the horizon for parsecs, snapping in all directions; she couldn’t feel around the edges of it. Wild, uncontrollable— yet a match made in heaven for someone who took without measure, a greedy bastard much like herself. She had never been in such sync with any partner before, they would normally end up drained of energy after a few minutes of dancing the dance with her.

According to what Fia had told them, she could heave the weight of whatever Zosar threw at her. And with particular ease at that.

With Zosar though, Wren was starting to wonder if she would be the one to lose her footing.

She saw him tense up, feeling his hand wrapping tighter on the handle of her weapon form, then his brainwaves caught up to hers — “One big swing, eh?” — Before she could quip another word at him, she went blank as the energy coursed through her. The image of a faucet opening and closing for the slightest, quickest second came to her mind and she had to stifle out a quiet chuckle.

“Let me pull the cord for ya’ then,” — She told him mid-swing.

There was a low, deep thrum on the chains, teeth grinding and squinching tight on the guide bar as something beneath the engine started pulling on them. Then the monstrous chainblade rattled alive on Zosar’s hand, tried to yank his arm side to side on the initial roar, yet it still came down straight through the arrows. Kicking up a bouquet’s-worth of bluebells that took wing the moment she revved up.

It slowly livened down to a mechanic whirr on his hand. The teeth were revolving so fast they blurred, forming a mushed red halo going rounds over the shape of the guide bar.

Even if it was their second time doing this, that initial feeling from their first try was still fresh and burned on the back of her mind now. She figured that for Fia and Starwulf, maybe, the whole process was a binary thing, a give and take without emotion. For Wren, it was pure satisfaction bursting forth from her chest.

Maria’s voice came in clear around them, Wren focused back on Midori and Elly — “Think we can get enough cover to get a rush in, Z? Or are we waiting on boss-man’s call…?” — She spoke to him through their link, finally let out a smear of that initial, hunger-driven thought she had before. Even if it did have a clearer, more concise purpose this time around.

Mentions: Sir Les Paul EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun
Interactions: The Regal Rper

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Feng Long - Qena Campsite, Egypt
​

After the long and grueling journey, where Feng was afforded a brief nap or relief at the rest stops during what would be a 6-hour trip head on, became a more manageable nine, and the hours spent on the flight and organizing the convoy were all that allowed Feng to mostly be alert and operational still. It was deemed to not trust Aki with driving their supplies through the desert, and so Feng alone did the journey without swiping seats with Aki. It wasn't so much she didn't trust her, but in Feng's case that it was annoying to make someone do what they normally did not. Well, a small part of her didn't want to end up eating shit on a sand dune, plus this was a rare taste of Freedom that Aki had had for far more often.

Stretching at once, rolling her shoulders then working her legs loose, before squatting upon the sands she sighed. Looking at the other vehicles and her fellow teammates, it was all absurd, wasn't it? Someone in the DWMA had a sick sense of humor or blinders on so thick they would be legally blind. One of the people she shot and the one who was her...target by the spell were both here. She had apologized for the shooting and for her actions towards Ark, and to Pinkie, the less insulting nickname she decided to keep. But it wasn't like most people would forgive and forget such things.

She had to admit, while the actions did shame her, or the path she had sought, they were still actions in accordance with herself. There was no point in feeling guilty. Best to just carry on like she had before. Still, it was then that Gauss, had stopped their merry little band and was now asking questions of the old man. "Heh." She said in an amused tone, likely to odds with Gauss she grins and speaks. "Come on now, a little bit of undead is just a speed bump, if the Undead were the be all end all, then many a dead necromancer wouldn't be. Enough bullets and enough fire or just a bit of hits and there you go. Heh. Though, I do got a question, where did all the undead come from? Where they in the Temple? Well, no way you would know that... Gotta dig ourselves."


Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Aki) Sir Les Paul (Gauss) The Regal Rper (Ark) Merciless Medic (Moreau - Noah) Shotgunpenguin (Wes) Peckinou (Arky) Mook-LandStrider (Annika)

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Aki Kiyoko - Egypt
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
​

Aki for her part in the days following the Hawaii fiasco made her rounds and apologized rather nonchalantly to those she shot, including Gauss, Wes, and Sara. However, other than that, the woman didn't appear all that severely affected by the incident, though she did seem to try to hang around Ark more often than before. Other than that, it was business as usual for Aki, and here she was a start contrast to Gauss.

Aki spent most of her time in the car humming and swaying to the music played from the jeep's music player, acting as if it was a road trip of some kind. She could have been preoccupied driving, but Feng determined that was a poor idea and, after some pouting, Aki ultimately relented and grew distracted with something else. The undead were of little consequence to her, though she was noticeably excited for the prospect of a temple. This was mainly due to what she had come to expect from movies and media since coming to the U.S. and didn't realize that archaeology was far less exciting than she was expecting.

As their guide briefed them and Gauss made his intentions clear, Aki hopped out of the jeeps as they came to a stop. "Yeah, zombies don't sound like that big of a deal... What're Anpu though again?" She asked with a slight tilt of her head before she turned her attention to the campsite, quickly growing preoccupied with exploring it for anything interesting, though she didn't deviate too far from Feng.

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul The Regal Rper Merciless Medic Shotgunpenguin Peckinou Mook-LandStrider

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The First Real Loss...​

The news was kept under wraps. Chanterelle was informed of it sooner, but only because she didn’t go to the Hawaiian vacation. Despite even that early access to information, she wasn’t told precisely what had occurred. Only that Rand was hurt on a mission and most of his team had been hurt or killed as well. That news was given to Maria, Raph, and Ark upon their return to the DWMA. The delay was in part to allow them to enjoy their vacation, but later simply to avoid making the situation there worse.

Not that anything came of it. An investigation revealed it all to be an elaborate prank gone horribly awry. The perpetrators were left undisclosed, though rumor was that they were removed from the program–and in fact were other agents. The victims were given no more than a slap on the wrist for anything they had done. No demerits provided, given the circumstances.

It all reeked of a cover-up given how quickly decisions were made, but for most, there existed some amount of relief in that there would be no penalization for the events in Hawaii.

It wasn’t until that Tuesday of all days that Cyrus had called in the former students of Rand, bringing them to the Wiccan Embassy in a private room that was currently being utilized as a conference room of sorts. Some other Witches had been in and out. No one had greeted them with the same hospitality as before, but that hardly seemed personal. The entire air here was somber.

The room was mostly candlelit, highly thematic to the overall aesthetic of the building. It wasn’t as dim as one might expect, though. Magelights like this were far more luminous than an actual burning candle. They did, however, behave as a regular flame. Dancing when the air was disturbed from someone entering the room, casting shadows that also wavered along the stone, and emitting a more yellowish light than the brighter whites that most of the DWMA was equipped with.

The room was obviously a bedroom at one point. The bed itself was converted into a large table and moved outward from the wall. A stone base with a massive wooden top surrounded by a plethora of chairs. Despite that, there was still an oversized armoire of wood so dark it appeared black, matched by end tables and a large mirror with a brass frame, all in the layout one might expect of a quality inn. The adjustment was made in haste.

Cyrus of all people hovered over the chairs of the table, not quite feeling like sitting. Not that one couldn’t, just that even he was on edge. His hands were wrapped around the back of the chair he had claimed with a grip tight enough the tips of his fingers even lightened ever so slightly. This was a tumultuous situation for both the Wiccan Council and the DWMA, after all. He was one of the many bridges between the two, and now he felt the weight.

Cyrus inhaled deeply, held that breath, and exhaled with an audible huff at the end.

”There is… a lot I cannot tell you,” Cyrus said, trying to preface this exchange with the fact it was still considered sensitive information.

”Rand was sent on a mission to investigate some very disturbing occurrences. He was part of a group including Meisters and Weapons. They weren't Elite by our standard, but as a group, they weren’t the type you would scoff at,” Cyrus told them, giving them what little information he could. If anything, he was just stalling from the real point here.

He looked down.

”A few of them are dead. Rand is not. He is in a coma, on a ventilator, being treated by the best doctors and Witches we have available,” Cyrus explained, ”security has increased, too. The family only let him stay until he was stable in the DWMA Hospital, then wanted him here to be guarded.”

He looked back up, observing those around the table. He wasn’t sure how it would affect them all. They had only known him a brief while. That said, they were all still young and impressionable. Six months to them was long enough to become important. They weren’t centuries-old Witches that had seen comrades come, go, fall, and rise. They hadn’t yet the time to become numbed to the world.

Witches and Sorcerers tended to be a passionate lot. Their reactions did worry him.

”I’ll spare you the graphic details. His eye was stolen. We have reason to believe it was probably even the target,” Cyrus told them, just trying to say the facts in the least volatile way he could muster. Which, at this point, probably wasn’t much.

Any relief he might have felt about Hawaii was traded in for the situation with Rand by an enormous sense of grim concern. From entry to this point, he had almost expected something worse to happen when Cyrus finally spoke. Being told what he could say though or was willing to, it still left him more than a bit shocked.

Ark hadn't sat when Cyrus spoke, and didn't even after he finished. It took a few seconds before he did.

And when he did speak all he said with a shake of his head was, "of course someone would target his eye" all somber no sarcastic amusement in it.

It made sense if you were going after a serious group that Rand was also a part of. Taking out pairs wasn't easy by itself but taking out a mage that knew an array of spells and could combine them to make them lethal together than they might be alone.

This, was the last thing he wanted to hear. After Hawaii he had wanted to focus, get some contact out to his grandmother. See what she could inform. Alchemical creations and concoctions related to anatomy were her forte. She'd had something of a focus in medicinal purposes for decades, and getting her input while Maria sought out her mother figure's could have helped greatly.

So this, this just made that situation look like some sort of distraction. Not a good one but still. It couldn't be coincidental.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated. It was hard to imagine someone easily getting the upper hand on Rand. As short as they had interacted with him, he had liked him better than he thought he ever would a Witch of the Maba line, and the same applies to his cousin, Iz.

The only question remained was, "Are there any leads or…" he cut off, realizing that was probably something Cyrus couldn't share, and instead just sighed.

What a way to start September. Two weeks and already two incidents.

Maria for her part walked about the room, finding the decore to be rather drab, or at least not to her style as she immediately took a seat at the table, before things got started, the information they got immediately upon their return was not to her liking, not one bit, more so that they were asking for a meeting, in the Embassy of all places. It was likely something serious, or in concern of a more dangerous threat, some sort of secrecy, nothing good for sure.

Maria listened to the words with an as passive of a face as always, though there was a hardening of her eyes, dilation of the pupils. She said nothing for a long while, till Ark finished with his own words.

”May we visit him? And I am also very interested in who did this, so I know who I need to destroy. Though in all likelihood, we are not ready to face such a foe. Still, Rand has done much for me, he would be very upset with us all if we just broke here and now, I would like for him to be pleased once he is back with us… If he’s back with us… Still, I do wish to see him when able, and I would have the details to this, though if you cannot tell us…” Maria seemed to hang on to the last bit, with something more to say, but she stopped.

Chanterelle’s head tilted to hear Cyrus’ words, but she did not immediately speak. Her lips curved first into a wry smile at Ark’s immediate response before settling back into their previous grim state. There was nothing she could do to seek justice for these events set into motion, and she knew it.

The past months had been difficult for the toadstool witch. She did not, as most expected, emerge triumphantly from the infirmary to continue her studies. Nor did she attempt to recentre her education within the witch realm. Instead, Chanterelle became a recluse to her cottage, bothered by far too many instructors and therapists. Cooperation with these was integral for her continued… presence.

She’d gotten used to being alone long ago.

There was not, however, any animosity between the witch and her peers. No matter how unstable she had become in the wake of the events on Dall Island, she understood that their performance had been make or break. Her weakness could have killed them, too.

Though she knew what had happened was not her fault—that it was unavoidable—a lingering feeling of dread hung over the witch. She struggled to meet the eyes of the other mages: Raphael had managed to visit frequently, for a little more than an hour or two at a time, rapping insistently at the door to her cottage. Though it was difficult to see him, she did not push him away. He cared too earnestly to reject. The sorcerer might not have known that witch was actively avoiding deserting campus, but he was helpful too, bringing back processed and meat-based food from that she could not provide herself. Finding her at her most drawn, he’d returned one day with enough tao chicken for them both, a stick of butter, and a box of instant rice to go with it. At first she had been confused—she could grow rice herself, if she tried—but he’d shown her that it was shucked and pre boiled before being dried. Small things like these helped the witch begin to care for herself again.
Chanterelle had not actively attempted to reconcile with the other two. Maria had stopped by once or twice, for no more than a few minutes, clearly distracted but just as clearly as empathetic as she believed the sorceress could be. Maria was the hardest to face because of her clearly utilitarian nature: the witch expected some scolding for her failure even when none came. They shared some small foodstuffs, but did not speak much. Ark had also surprised her with his presence; she had lingered at the door when he called out to her without knocking and finally decided to open it. He did not judge her for the sparsely-furnished space, little more than a cool greenhouse lit by mushrooms, the only evidence of modern comfort the minifridge powered by an extension cord hanging out the single cut window and a bed from IKEA. Neither did he mention the pottery shards that crunched under his boots in the doorway, tracked in from the garden where it was being used for drainage. Instead, he was concerned mostly with her well-being. She told him as much truth as she could muster: that she was physically well, but struggling to rebound into usefulness. He did not stay long, but surprised her by returning several times, almost as if documenting her progress. It was in this way that Chanterelle relearned how to face her classmates, if not to meet their gaze. It was better that they had gone to Hawaii without her, but the time of isolation had helped spur her want for recovery.

The news of Rand’s injury caused her great initial strife. This would have been the case for any of the four who had been on her last expedition. She had already seen their corpses, blooming, dreams taking root in what-could-have-beens. Fearing the worst, the witch had come expediently at her summons. She sat in front of a witchlight on the table. Breathing in and out, she could almost imagine that it moved with her breath. Somehow calming, in the face of all things. A distraction from the rotting face she could not help but visualize.

Maria wanted vengeance, just as she expected, but Chanterelle was surprised by her eagerness to visit their former mentor. Finally raising her gaze to Cyrus—after inadvertently glancing at Maria, correcting herself, fingers curling within the gloves the other girl had once gifted her—she spoke to back up her point. “I assume only Rand’s family might visit him now?”

The only delight Raphael had in coming to the witch realm’s wiccan embassy was that he got to see Chanterelle again. Everything else had given him a sour look including just being here. The Witch Realm was his least favorite place to be in, but he had to be here. At least for Rand. As Cyrus explained, he turned around so others wouldn’t see the fury etched harshly onto his face. He tried to get a hold of his emotions. Everyone was wanting to see him, make sure he was okay, but there wasn’t much now if he was in a coma, wasn’t he? Last time they saw him, they were being taught by him.

He slammed his fist on the table, groaning as the pride in him stirred, of how he was a horrible student for enjoying what he could in Hawaii while his mentor nearly died out there. What student was he?

Spinning around, he noticed Chanterelle’s state and lightly set a hand on her shoulder, a stark contrast to the violence he enacted on the table as he tried to soothe her, feeling a little bad if he had scared her with his earlier rash action. “I prefer to see him when he’s awake and walking. I’d rather not have the last I see of him be when he’s sleeping on some hospital bed. Besides, the doctors and his family have him now and there’s not much we can do beyond that. He’d feel better that we got our shit together if we start training and getting more spells soon.” His eyes - including his tattoo’d eye - burned with a deep-seeded wrath. “We don’t have the ability to go after whoever did this to him. Even if we had the knowledge, it would only distract us in our training and make us see leads that aren’t there on our missions. What is left for us to do? Who else is willing to mentor us, if we need it at all?” He didn’t want to think about Hawaii, but it was a damn good way to target everyone and pull attention away… Including the mentors…

He really hoped that these events weren’t correlated.

”I-” With what Raph had said, and some of the looks she had gained, Maria seems to search for the words she wished to say, before finally continuing.

”Yes, seeing him later might be for the best, once he’s awake, however I would like to give the Embassy a gift for him if they are so kind to do such, for when he does wake up, if that would be allowed?”

Not that long ago, Rand was just an awkward little Witch-boy with some lofty ideals. Cyrus reflected back on all the reports he received on him during the Paean Program. Rand often ignored others entirely, wearing those headphones for entire missions. Sometimes, he didn’t speak at all. It was noted as ‘off-putting’ by plenty. He had no real understanding of even basic human culture, let alone the vast array of cultural norms that exist globally. He wasn’t keen on nor good at making friends back then. If he wasn’t fixated on it to begin with, getting him to do anything was a challenge.

He was a real hard case to justify making an agent back then.

Now? Now Cyrus saw four Sorcerers clearly upset, all in their own ways. It was a night and day difference. There were quite a few vocal objections to making Rand a mentor, let alone a dedicated one for spellcasters–Witch or Sorcerer. His unorthodox methods of training and perspective on magic caused some apprehension within the Witch Realm, and many weren’t keen on pushing those untested, possibly even detrimental methods, onto already-struggling students.

Regardless of the resistance he initially faced, it was fairly certain Rand had most definitely made an impact. The fact these few even gave a damn meant something. If he made them care half as much about their studies, well then, they had all the potential in the world to grow not just in power, but into pillars of the alliance. One good teacher could make all the difference.

That only made what Cyrus had to explain that much harder to do.

”The original plan was to not inform you of his condition at all. Everyone hates the red tape and secrets, but if word got out that a member of the Mabian House was targeted and an eye stolen… well, I’m sure you can imagine that fallout,” Cyrus told them, ”Yara fought tooth and nail to bring you in. She convinced Maba that you four are his legacy, for as short-lived as your training was. I was told normally that wouldn’t mean a damn thing to a group of Witches, but Yara–oh she made a damn convincing argument. She proclaimed that if the Council wanted this new generation of Witches to adjust to the human world, they needed to adjust to human ideals.”

”It is… a very human thing to want to see your injured comrade. Mentor, partner, friend,” Cyrus explained, his tone somber and low.

”So, yes, you may see Rand. Those of his family that are cleared to know of his condition have visited. I know you have met Gavril. He is a cousin to Rand, distantly; he is not to be informed of his condition. In fact, none of you are to share what you see here,” Cyrus told them, telling them the strict guidelines set on this visit and with this information.

”That all said…” Cyrus continued, his eyes shifting over to Raphael and giving him a harsh stare, as if meaning to make this next point especially clear to him. ”This is no time for denial. Rand may never wake up. He is on a ventilator. He has a feeding tube. He is adorned with as many sensors as you can imagine. They wouldn’t discuss the process of implanting the eye, but it was apparently tied very closely to the nervous system; which was damaged upon its removal. This is as much a medical problem as it is magical,” Cyrus told them, sharing the severity of the status Rand was in and the severity of his current injury.

”You do not have to see him if you do not want to,” Cyrus told them all finally. ”It’s not an easy sight, and no one would blame you,” he added, trying once in this rare occasion to validate whatever feelings these four might have had.

Raphael met Cyrus’s harsh stare with his own, but the rage simmered down to an acceptable level as the points he made tumbled in his mind. Cyrus was right. He might not ever wake up and this was the last time to see him alive, even if he wasn’t fully conscious. Lip twitching in contempt, he softened his gaze and it fell to the table. A sign of submission to see Rand. It would be a shame to not see him, to not at least be there. At least then, he could burn the memory of Rand on that bed into his brain to make him work harder.


" I…would still like to see him." Ark stated, at least voicing what he assumed were most of their thoughts.

A cold simmering rage seemed to pass over Maria as she bit into her right thumb as she was given to doing when bothered by something, to the point of anger, her eyes narrowed and it all seemed to pass as quickly as it arrived.

”He’s the Maba’s Kin and a male witch, they’ll do all they can. But I am in agreement with the others, I wish to see him as well… Who knows if we are allowed to visit from time to time, one of us may wake him up by just speaking with him, same as his own family…. As to the eye, it's best we don’t know. I cannot speak for all, but I had no interest in the eye. Such a power to tempt another, even one that may kill you? I guess that is a small favor or blessing, if who took the eye…. Hmm… Given the eye was taken, that greatly cuts down on the number of people that know the process, but we aren’t detectives.”

Just a nod from the witch. Her throat tightened at the description–worse than she had hoped for, but in a macabre way, better than she had feared–but she could not help but question the notion of visitation being human. Was it expected to expire in privacy, then, the way older witches sometimes sought individual hermitude? No. Those thoughts were distractions, but bringing thoughts of death to a sickbed invited tragedy. She would follow them, though she did not share Maria’s optimism.
It seemed the group was in agreement in regards to visiting Rand. Cyrus couldn’t formulate an opinion on whether or not that was the right decision. In fact, had his former partner been in the hospital or on their deathbed, he wasn’t even certain if he would want to see him. There was over a decade of history between them, and for as much respect as Cyrus had for the man, he was never truly fond of him. Hell, they were hardly friends.

Then again, being likable wasn’t a common trait amongst those with the Reaper title. They were a duo of practicality, not necessarily compatibility.

This situation was entirely different, though. This wasn’t a partnership. These four were his pupils. It was closest to master and apprentice, if anything. Aside from that, it wasn’t really his place to put himself in their shoes. He couldn’t fathom how different their cultures had to truly be for such situations to be considered trivial.

”Then follow me,” Cyrus instructed, not wanting to linger on the transition in conversation.

It was a short walk. Rand was only down a few doors and a corner in the hallway. He was in one of the suites and the difference in intricacy in the brickwork and hallways was obvious, but far from a transition that made the theme of the building change. It was simply more engraved stonework, various runes sprawled across the walls, ebony trim adorning the dark stone that most of the building was built from.

The door to the room Rand was in far eclipsed the one the five were just inside both in size and grandiosity. These suites were as extravagant as one would expect from what amounted to magical royalty. More notably, it didn’t resemble a hospital room in the slightest from the outside. The white and stainless steel environment that was normally associated with the bright, sterile environment of a medical setting was lacking. In its stead was the exact layout, albeit fancier, that the entirety of the Wiccan Embassy was known for: dark brickwork, black iron embellishments, and ebony accents where wood was used.

Inside the room was roughly the same, albeit the central portion where Rand was staying had obviously been fitted with the proper medical equipment. It was a stark juxtaposition given how the rest of the embassy remained stalwart in its aesthetic theme. Multiple monitors to the left of Rand displayed various vital signs in real time with a computer terminal beside them, seemingly locked by the large glowing lock symbol on it. Two IV poles and a pole for his internal feed stood on the other side of his bed.

And, his bed looked like it had been ripped right out of one of the suites of the MAD Hospital. It was large and accommodating, but ultimately little different than the mass produced beds found there, specifically for private pay patients. Rand himself, though. That was a different story.

Rand laid there in a blue gown under a thin, tan blanket. Most of the tubing was covered, but the faint outlines were still present to the observant eye. A tube was surgically implanted directly in his stomach, a picc line ran on his left arm with a secondary backup in his right. Even a catheter bag placed near the foot of his bed, albeit covered by a dark purple privacy cover was present. Half his head was covered in bandages, just barely not covering his nose–only because it couldn’t be given he had a full, transparent plastic mask covering the area around his ventilator tube. Both of his eyes were covered by this bandage which traveled up his entire forehead and covered most of his hair. Bruising around both his eyes extended slightly below the bandage line and what little skin was on his body also showed signs of combat, but worse, what looked like a faint, gray mottling.

It was no exaggeration to describe Rand as being on the doorstep of Death, and too dire a situation to point out the irony in how close he was to Lord Kidd given he was well within the DWMA.

Yara, perhaps to little surprise, was seated off several feet away in a thematically consistent wooden chair, though this one plush was a deep purple upholstery. She looked up at the five once they entered. In truth, it was them that she was waiting on.

Only upon entering the room was a faint smell of lavender within the air. A strong smell, but not harsh on the nose. It seemed out of place, and there was a reason for that: it was. The smell was used to cover the actual smell in the room, which was notably unpleasant. Between the changings and the damaged skin, the room, if left to its own devices, would carry a malingering tinge of damaged flesh and antiseptics.

Yara was not the only one in the room. She was paired now with another woman. Roughly her height, not terribly different in facial features, but of medium brown hair and dark green eyes. It wasn’t a difficult leap in logic to determine this woman was likely another relative–Rand had plenty.

Yara let loose a low exhalation of exasperation, long and slow. This was a hard moment for her, and composure wasn’t exceptionally easy. Much like Maria, she craved vengeance.

”I.. I am glad you all decided to visit,” she told them, her voice hardly as confident or bubbly as their previous encounters. It wasn’t dull or lifeless, more so it seemed restrained. Like a prisoner trying to avoid saying the wrong word.

Raphael’s eyes burned with something akin to sorrow and fury as he saw Rand lying there. He wanted to see him, but he didn’t want to crowd him. He noticed Yara and another female, having not met her before. He gave her a somber smile and bowed respectfully, his normal flourish for bowing having tamed itself so as to not disrupt the atmosphere. “I’m glad to see you, as well. Wish our next meeting was in better circumstances.” It was more out of sharing pleasantries with someone to maintain politeness, but seeing somebody else here who could help ground them or feel the same way he did felt actually nice. He normally would wait for her to say her greetings, but there was the elephant in the room he needed to attend to. It wasn’t like he was ignoring Yara either, but given the state of what’s happened, he doubted she’d blame him. He then walked up to Rand’s side, getting a good look at what happened to him from what he could see.

Figuring Rand possibly heard him, as he read about coma patients at least being subconsciously aware of their surroundings, he spoke softly to him. “Hey, Rand. Hope you wake up soon, okay? Don’t leave us hanging.” He said it in jest, even giving a wry smile, his hand resting on his shoulder lightly. The liveliness Rand had was gone despite his still alive state, the touch to him feeling almost like he was touching a dead man.

Ark in contrast to Raph however held a rare expression of neutrality. Staring at Rand sent him back to staring at a number of bodies. And it shook him, seeing their mentor in such a state.

Made him fiercely mad seeing it had happened at all. Where Raph had spoken he remained stiff and silent. And only turned his gaze to his two relatives with a silent nod of his head in respect. It was the look in his bronze eyes that showed his empathy, as much as the tension in his jaw and face showed his grief and rage.

There really was nothing he wanted to say, all he could hope for as Raph had said, would be that their mentor, and as he liked to think of him, friend, would be back with them soon. It was good enough, he hadn't been killed outright at all, but then again that sentiment hardly meant much of anything when you were in a coma or badly wounded.

He knew that well since he had inflicted similar on his own allies in Pull induced rage.

Looking at the two women already in the room, Maria knew one of them rather well, the other had a passing resemblance, another sister? Or perhaps the Mother? Bowing a curtsey at the pair as she lifted her dress, Maria finally forced her attention onto Rand, others seemed to have already beat her to the punch. Seeing Rand in such a state, while she betrayed no direct emotions, anyone that knew her could tell she was very angry, as her pupils shrunk back and dilated, and she chewed on her right thumb as she was given to do, biting the blood out of it before taking it away, closing her hand around the thumb it would stop bleeding shortly in all likelihood.

Mumbling her words only a few could be heard with the pace and whispers that she spoke with, and just as suddenly the fit was done with. “I… will bring in a gift tomorrow, or today, if he has music he likes I would know a few of the albums… It’s an antique designed vinyl record player, I put a lot of craftsmanship and a bit of Magic into it… Provided it would be allowed? I had hoped to give it under a more…” A Pause and then a continuation. “...pleasant circumstance.”

She was not sure what else to say. “I…” With that Maria paced a little before walking over to where he was, opposite of Raph, her muttering started once more, before she took her leave, standing off to the side. She had things to plan now, even if it took her over 100 years, she would bide her time, she had plenty of that, otherwise she was not sure what else to do in the here and now, she wanted to return to her workshop.


The forest witch was the last to enter the room. The presence of their mentor’s family—reasonably a simple abstraction up to that point—was natural but made her feel like an intruder to their privacy despite Yara’s warm welcome. She hovered at the door as the others stepped forward. Rand was in a bad state, that much was clear, although Chanterelle could not pretend to understand the level of care undertaken in this room. She could smell the familiar scent of decay emanating from the bed.

Equally important to her was the want to keep her distance from her peers in their initial grief. Witches, in her experience, had the propensity to explosive outbursts when they first witnessed slow death. Within moments the witch felt some kind of shame at the underestimation of her peers. Raphael, greeting Yara with respect, speaking to Rand’s unhearing body. The sight made the witch swallow. She turned her face away from his anger, from Maria’s similar rage, and Ark’s flatness in the face of death that so mirrored her own. Unlike most of the other magicians in the room—eyes glinting with the idea of vengeance, caught in the desire for destruction, both seductive and righteous—perception of this suffering was not enough to call her soul back toward the seductress of revenge without clear purpose.

So, instead, she stepped up to Yara while the others attended their mentor. ”Thank you for letting us come at such a difficult time,” she offered reciprocally to the woman, neither gentle nor cold, but in the intonation of respect that was afforded by her status. With a sympathetic, she turned toward the man, Maria’s footsteps clear on the floor behind her. From her closed hand she revealed a small corsage: seven small jasmine blooms in a knot of leaf and stem. Two or three crushed petals contested even the lavender in the room with its potent scent.
Even this was not enough to mask the scent of decay so ingrained in her mind.

Gently, she took his hand, stiff and cold at his side. Pulling this to rest on his chest—though she knew it would fall away as soon as they turned him—she closed his fingers around the stem of the miniature bouquet, bowing her head, breathing in the smell of approaching death. The witch did not know if he would live or not. She did know, though, that he had some chance of escaping that fate in such a safe place.

Backing off again, she had many sentimental thoughts but did not speak them, instead turning her face back to the woman aside her. ”Let me know if you want for anything. Herbs, or…”

The witch trailed off. There was no kind way to say ‘funerary flowers’. ”…anything else you might need.”
The reactions were varied, which was expected. These four were a far-stretch from the Witches cultivated in their home realm. The fact they weren’t truly even Witches was less relevant than their youth and upbringing in this new age. Historically, the contrast was as large as the one between those of the Greatest Generation and the Baby Boomers that followed. The world had forever changed in a way that one could not know unless they had lived through it.

Some older Witches might have scoffed at them for this. Yara knew better. They might not have been hardened by the flames of war, but they did grow up on the cusp of what could be the greatest shift in magic since the fall of Baba Yaga so many millennia ago. Bright new minds like them would surely impact the world. And, Rand, her brother, had a hand in that process.
What Yara saw in these four were the seedlings her brother had planted. He and his like-minded scholars hadn’t the time to truly develop their theories on a more uniform understanding of magic, but the fundamentals were passed onto these four as if they were gospel truth. True as it may be that these four all had their own strong upbringings, but in the grand scheme of things, they were given these fundamentals so early in their lives. Their minds were opened up probably sooner than any other Witches in known history.

If Rand never woke up, if he never gave anything else to the world, how these four grew and took his teachings had the potential to be a gift of understanding–or perhaps an experiment in education–that couldn’t go ignored by the Witch community at large.

Yara was sad, it was true, but she was also glad to see the type of impact her baby brother had in such a short time.
”You are all kind…” she said, admittedly somewhat awkward with a slightly broken cadence. This situation was unique, even for her. This just wasn’t the type of thing that occurred in the Witch Realm.

”I hadn’t considered any of you wanting to return, but I can make arrangements… you may need to ask Cyrus to designate times,” she said, or started to, as she stumbled. She didn’t mumble or utter ‘uh’ or ‘um’, but the pause that existed was a replacement for that very type of again-awkward transition.

”Security will be tight,” she told them, then glanced over to the Witch beside her. ”This is Tamara, a cousin in our line. She is one of a handful that have been reassigned to guard Rand,” she explained, trying to dance around some more delicate details of the matter.

”Nice to meet you,” responded the Witch, though again awkward, as if she wasn’t prepared to be introduced. Fact was, she wasn’t. Her role rarely involved any talking. She wasn’t high enough on the chain to typically merit even giving a report, let alone introducing herself. ”I,uh… wish it was under better circumstances,” she added, still fumbling.

”I wish there was more I could do for you,” Yara said, cutting into the awkward atmosphere Tamara extended. It was an odd sentiment all things considered–for the sister of the one in the bed to wish to do more. But, Yara had more than just the life of her brother in mind.

”I mean… I wish there was some book or someone else I knew who could continue your training,” she told them, backpedaling slightly and speaking faster to try and cover the explanation.

”To be honest, Rand wasn’t the only one working on the training method he was teaching you… but even I don’t know who all he spoke to,” Yara admitted, ”and it’s a shame. You all made leaps and bounds in the brief education my brother gave you… had you done the same decades ago, you would have been considered prodigies–but the chances of four prodigies being taught at random by the same person is unfathomable.”

Yara gave a soft chuckle, though it was somewhat dismal. It wasn’t in jest. Whatever humor was there, it wasn’t truly funny. It was ironic. ”He was onto something and I wish more than anything I could help him see it through,” she told them. There was a lot of meaning behind that admittance. The four may not have realized it, but it was a bold proclamation. To admit Rand and his madly unorthodox methods had some merit, even if it wasn’t perfect, alone was enough to shake up the foundations of the current regime of Magic in the Witch Realm.

”That aside,” she said, quickly changing tone and getting to one of the more important points of what she wanted to tell them all, ”I do have a request for all of you.”

”Do not seek vengeance–at least not through violence against whoever hurt my brother,” she requested, doing her best to pour every ounce of genuine sincerity she could into her words. ”You are all treasures to our world. If you seek violence and die in the process, anything and everything that Rand sought to prove will go with you,” she told them.

”So, please, instead choose to live and grow with what my brother taught you. No matter how basic or mundane, if you all prove the value of what he taught you, I assure you… that would mean more to him than killing some thugs that were after a cloned eye,” she continued, and the tone of desperation in her voice was quite opaque. The blindest of men could have seen it. She didn’t want them to fall into that vicious trap that their kind was so well-known for. The petty revenge. The Pull of Magic seeking its destructive outlet in the form of vindication. It was something that kept wars in the Witch Realm going for centuries, over generations, and through bloodlines.

It was something she wanted to halt before it even started.

It said more that she was even talking to them at all in such sincerity. And given his own experience with war, battles, and the political atmosphere of the Realm, the renown nature of Witch kind, it was easy to understand her desperate plea. And to it Ark merely said, in a quiet voice, "Rest assured Lady Yara," his eyes had never left Rand once his own greeting had been given, "revenge is the last thing on my mind," even if he did have the anger for it, he'd seen it on the field enough times from the average human soldier to have no interest in traveling that same path.

Raphael understood the banality of vengeance. It was definitely tempting. The familiar Pull asked; what kind of student was he to let his mentor die and let those fools live?

His pride retorted; what kind of student was he to die trying if he didn’t train or pass on Rand’s teachings?

To Raphael, Rand still lived on through the way he taught them. He gave them not only the fish, but the fishing rod and lesson to fish by themselves. They literally could learn anything they want now. They were their own teachers now. “I intend to make Rand proud.” Raphael said as he joined Ark’s side, looking at Yara and Tamara. “Even if he doesn’t walk out of that bed, Rand is not dead, but immortalized through his teaching method; through us.” Raphael didn’t take this as a need to hunt, but as a race to learn. “I’m sure whoever did this to him knows that.” He let the unsaid uncertainty for their safety hang in the air. What was the possibility they’d be targets because they were Rand’s students? For Raphael, he figured it would be really high. That was why he personally believed none of them should go and seek vengeance. It was like walking into their trap-made grave disguised as a tempting promise.

Listening to all was said and watching the interaction play out, Maria remained silent by and large, though she did have a twitch of her jaw when asked not to seek vengeance. Sighing at that, she gave a shrug, before turning to face Yara and Tamara.

”No matter how much I wish for vengeance, and to be clear I do, we simply aren’t up to the task. Not yet at least, several agents died and Rand was… Well, we see what. I am not so foolish as to pick fights I cannot win.” With that a pause as she exhaled, looking at Rand once more. ”Indeed, his training, as strange as it may have been, will be delayed till he wakes up. In the meantime we’ll have to train ourselves or consult the library more often.”

A strange sort of pride in her classmates swelled in Chanterelle’s chest. Their maturity in the face of grief surely honoured their mentour and educators so far. ”Some fights are pointless,” she affirmed grimly, ”because they are not undertaken by equal foes. Thus would be the case here”. An awkward pause. If Chanterelle had any thoughts of vengeance, she would not breathe them here. ”Thank you again for your time… and council.”

”I-I am glad you all see the situation in the light you do…” Yara said, having heard the responses from each of the Sorcerers in front of her. She was content with the answers she received. Of course, a lot of information was still being kept from them–in part to avoid leading the agents down a path of self destruction. Still, even with that slight deception, she felt these four would be safe for the time being.

The Plague Doctors were a force far beyond their ability…

”Train on and continue your education however you see fit…” she went on, continuing off the point Maria had made about hitting the library. ”As it stands, save the fateful chance one of his contacts comes forward, you four are the foremost experts in this new perspective on magic… and your choices could help define what it becomes,” she explained, again trying to reiterate their importance to what Rand was so passionate about.

”Should anything occur with Rand, I will make sure you are informed,” she told them, ”and, all four of you will be given a contact that will get you to me, should you need anything.”

”Unless you wish to stay here in silence a while longer, I suggest you all figure out how to proceed on your own… I do know you will be assigned to normal teams, but some time has been given to you as a form of bereavement… so use that time, decompress, study, collect yourselves,” she told them, herself standing up as she said this all, then nodding over to Tamara.

”Once the last of you leave, Tamara will seal this room and it will only unseal from the inside. There will always be a guard on watch to operate that seal, and if you want to visit again, it will need to be passed by mister Kallis,” she told them, glancing only over to Cyrus briefly before returning to her focus on the group.

”Do not feel obligated to spend more time here than you need… I’ll be the first to leave and there will be no judgment on those that follow,” she said before following through with those words by walking right past the group and through the very dark-wood door they had entered through.

”Hmm…” Hearing all that was said, more so with the room being sealed, Maria was not so sure the four of them could meet this, new thoughts or ideas on magic status they seemed to have landed in. Though she knew already how she planned to improve her own craft, there was still much and more to do. And from how it sounded, it would be very problematic to just visit Rand, provided they even should. From how it sounded they wanted to keep this space locked, if there were visits it would be best they were as a group and arranged in advance.

”I’ll leave the gift at the lobby, or bring it in the next time we visit, it may be fitting to leave it for you, Yara. He needs his rest. I hate to seem callous, but, while I know the human form well, I am not a magician of organics. Please call for us if anything happens.” She said to the second woman, before following Yara out.

It made sense to seal from the inside than risk it being broken from the outside once the caster had been dealt with. Ark lifted his eyes to Yara as she spoke once more after hearing all their replies. It was good to know his colleagues were not foolhardy like some he had fought with moons ago.

With Yara's departure and Maria's exit, Ark returned his stare to Rand, and with a respectful nod to his friend and mentor, thought well wishing for his status, even if it was only a optimistic thought, turned his gaze to Tamara, offering her the same respectful nod he had given Lady Yara before wordlessly turning and following Maria and Yara out.

Raphael was silent, listening as he began constructing ideas and figuring ways to prep them so he may get them all done in a timely manner. He was certainly glad his teammates weren’t going to be fools. He’d have to disown them from being his classmates for that if they tried. With a parting shoulder pat to Rand, he bowed to Tamara before leaving after Maria, Ark, and Yara. It was time to start working.

Chanterelle did not leave yet with the others. Unlike Maria, she was a magician of organics, though admittedly not of the patient’s type. The patient. How easy it could be to create that kind of mental distance. No, the form on the table was undoubtedly their mentour. ”I’d like to stay a little while,”, she mentioned to Tamara, taking a chair strewn somewhat aside: not the chair Yara had recently vacated. ”If you don’t mind.” It didn’t sound like a question, though she would leave if she was asked.

The weight of this group exchange fell heavily on the witch. Yara’s desperation clung to her skin; the small hollowness carved out of Tamara and all of her friends did the same. So the witch settled into observing the body on the table. His body might yet still, she knew, the mana concentrated in his soul dissipating from his body on the table uncatchably into the air. This would mark the time of death for a witch according to her understanding. Not the cessation of brain activity but the moment in which the body became an organic object unshielded by aura or magic. The beginning of rot.

Those thoughts were too dark as of yet. His lungs still breathed there on the table; she would come to see him again in time or he would pass and there was nothing her rumination would do to help it. He might yet rise, and then this grief would be for naught. The toadstool witch pulled her messenger bag around her hip, palmed a small object from its outer pocket, and began to slowly and softly read one of the books she had recently been gifted.

Meredith RedArmyShogun Merciless Medic The Regal Rper

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Wes Kraven
Qena Campsite, Egypt

Mentions: Sir Les Paul (Gauss), RedArmyShogun (Feng), EmperorsChosen (Aki), The Regal Rper (Ark), Merciless Medic (Noah, Michael), Peckinou (Arkayis), Mook-LandStrider (Annika)​

In the days following their return from their vacation, Wes had practically barricaded himself in his dorm, occasionally emerging in order to resupply his stash of meal-bars and stores of bottled water. The events of the party still hung in the back of his head, reminding him that he still hadn’t apologized to anyone from the trip. The thought clung to him every time he looked at his phone, all it would have taken was a few seconds to get their numbers and send an apology. And yet, every time without fail, he would toss the device off to the side and tell himself that he’d do it later. Eventually, he once again emerged from his door, although in this case it was to attend a counseling session with Dr. Arc.

Things had been.. slightly awkward between the two of them, at least on his part. He was adamant not to talk about the trip, or his drunken antics, despite some not so subtle prodding by the doctor. He still felt terrible about how he acted during the celebration, as well as not apologizing to everyone like he should have when he still had the chance. It had already been days since the event, and with each passing day he felt like an apology would just come off as disingenuous, especially if he did it over text like he had planned.

When he expressed those thoughts to Dr. Arc, the man assured him that they would appreciate the apology, even if it was later than Wes thought it should have been. He explained that he had already been briefed on what had happened at the event, and that anyone who had fallen under the effects of the magical tampering would probably share the feelings of regret that he had. They were all victims of a cruel prank, and he suggested that there would hardly be anyone who would hold a grudge for something that was out of their control.

In the end, Wes ended up apologizing over text to Gauss after his session was over, with him bothering Annika for the meister’s number. It was just a quick apology, nothing more than a sorry and a request to pass it along to Sara and his partner, since he neither had their numbers or knew anyone who did. It wasn’t much, but it at least helped settle some of the unease he felt since the trip. Of course, it was just his luck that soon after the text, he was informed that he would be a part of a mission that consisted of the meister and weapon.

Stifling a yawn with his free hand, he focused on the sun-bleached jeep ahead of him as their convoy rolled down the stretch of desert. Due to the suddenness of their mission, there wasn’t much time to catch some sleep in-between their multiple flights. That, and the added pressure of the government wanting the issue resolved as soon as possible meant that stopping to take a break wasn’t an option. He was tired, but he was also way too wired to get any sort of rest, so he decided to take over the driving role so Annika could catch some rest if she wanted. The drive was quiet and uneventful, with their guide piping in every once in a while to break up the silence.

As their convoy approached the ruins, the guides tone switched to more of a lecturer as he began to describe in detail the shrine itself and the research team that discovered it. It may have been a bit morbid, but Wes doubted that the researchers were still in one piece at this point. None of them struck him as the rough and ready type, and if they had abandoned their campsite, they probably didn’t take any of their supplies with them. Which meant they would have gone about a week without food or water while being hounded by the undead. Still, he at least knew to keep that thought to himself for the time being, instead turning his thoughts to the undead themselves.

He’d seen enough zombie movies to get the general gist of what to expect. Slow moving hordes of unstoppable monsters, with the only solution being to destroy the brain. Although in most of the ones he watched, the protagonist was always some middle-aged guy spouting one-liners, popping off skulls like they were a world class sharpshooter and blowing up buildings with reckless glee. He doubted that it’d be as easy in their case, especially with the request not to damage anything hanging over their heads. If they didn’t have to worry about it, he honestly would have suggested collapsing the entrance and calling it a day.

“Wonder if I’d be able to hear them.” The thought idly, slowing down as their group got closer and closer to the site.

If these things still had their souls, it’d make detecting them a whole lot easier for the group. Being able to tell when they were getting close meant that they wouldn’t be caught off guard, and hopefully also meant that they’d be able to know they were going in the right direction. Of course, if these things were just husks without their souls that idea went right out of the window.

Eventually, their convoy came to a stop in a loose half-circle around the abandoned campsite. Wes threw the car into park and pocketed the keys before stepping out into the desert sands. It was hot, but nothing he wasn’t used to from living in Death City. The thing that irritated him was all of the sand, small bits of the stuff being picked up with every stray breeze that forced him to squint his eyes to keep it out.

As the others asked their guide questions, Wes joined Aki in her investigation of the campsite. The weapon had caught Wes during one of his supply runs and apologized for shooting him during the vacation. Slightly confused at the casual nature of the apology, he accepted the apology without much fuss and went back on his way. Taking his search to the opposite side of the camp, he began to sift through it in search of anything that would help explain what had happened.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Ark | Egypt | Rings: 0/1

It was funny how life tended to book a list of things ahead of time, and somehow also managed to book everything for free.

Rand's incident weighed on Ark's mind in a way that was familiar.

Some part of him felt things might have been different had he been there. While nowhere as powerful as he was, his ability to manipulate the environment was a valuable tool in the field. Perhaps it would have skewed things enough to prevent some deaths, might have even prevented Rand's current state.

That however was what he hoped, actually it was just as likely he would have died and Rand's state would have been no better.

Though he had said the least out of the quarter privately invited to see the downed male Witch, it was because seeing Rand in that state reminded him too much of seeing others he had fought with in that state. It hurt, because as much as he wanted to be optimistic about Rand's condition, he knew all too well how optimism only did so much.

So he has tried to turn his attention to something else after all was said and done.

Only to come back to the Duulwin Estate and find his uncle conversing with his cousins, with only one of them giving him a cheerful welcome the second she saw him. Lyra.

Lyra had been ecstatic to see him. Of the few cousins he actually enjoyed spending time with, as the fourth daughter of Luna and a child Witchling when Kidd had first taken over the DWMA, she was more accustomed to human etiquette than any of her elder siblings before her bothered to try. Out of any of his cousins seeing Lyra brought some comfort.

The comfort died like frigid ice in his gut as she stated that she was bringing him back to the House to attend an event and his Aunts demanded he be there for it.

A refusal normally might not have been received well and may have earned him even a stern tongue lashing from his mother, and some disapproving glares from his cousins who would go. However with how short notice it was, he found no reasons to deny it.

Even more, it gave him all the chances in the Realm to talk with his grandmother who was a welcome resident at any event linked to House Astraeus or other Wiccan houses of the past; she had old links too.

A gathering of sorts, a meeting really to talk and discuss. Most of what happened at the gathering, conducted by a joint planning involving his Aunt Noir and four other witches of different esteemed Houses, was really just a social gathering to discuss various occurences.

There was talk of magitech recently becoming more accessible and found in criminal hands. How it was becoming a problem. There were discussions about a group of mercenaries causing trouble. And there were ponderings on the subject he had hoped would not be brought up at all.

The incident in Hawaii.

Lyra had practically lead him to his doom, and even when he tried to escape it, she had teamed up with friends to block off the exits he could use to get out.

It would have been easy to make his own, but Lady Noir was a very particular woman who took her property with extreme seriousness, and shifting a marble for his own escape without permission would make suffering what was to come paltry by comparison when she inevitably chased him down and forced him to redecorate her entire tower.

Lyra had given him the most apologetic smiles as he was lead to the gathering.

It meant nothing. And to his annoyance, there were far too many who were curious of the events that had unfolded with far too many who had relatives that were being tight lipped for reasons they clearly didn't care to notice. Far too many wanted answers on the behavior of one person or another, either to have something to look more into or to have something to spin to their social circles favor or to have something to simply pick at like a scab later.

Worst of all, the attention and flurry of questions that were thrown at him not just that Eve in the Realm, was superseded by questions that then focused on him and stuff he had thought wouldn't have caught ears just yet.

It was awkward enough sensing Dani and Adrian both text messages in some form of apology. And it only became somewhat more awkward when he started getting messages from Aki after taking Zosar's advice in not shunning any attempts at either one trying to communicate with him, which was hypocritical, given the meister had also been avoiding everyone, but that wasn't the point.

Texting Aki, picking up the occasional call, it was nice. She was a good egg. He appreciated the fact she even bothered and though it was extremely odd how she felt barely a shred of the awkwardness he STILL felt, their conversing provides a good distraction from the sheer amount of everything else.

He had said he wanted to reset after all, and though he hadn't expected it to start so soon, he was going to try and not completely ignore someone making an effort at least to reach out to him. Start fresh with both, and with Adrian it had been a similar sentiment in his message.

Yet, when he found out about Aki and Feng being on the same mission as him, it didn't exactly sit in full comfort.

It felt too soon. He had always been taught. Too soon in the sense that he now knew that his Aunts would be curious about the people he interacted with more now. They'd asked about Aki, asked about Feng, one rumor even got out that he had gone to engage an Irish exchange student that was partnered with a Hoshi, and they had asked about her too. They had shown a curiosity in discovering Raph and with some digging, Noir had shown a rare sign of genuine interest in another Sorcerer that wasn't tied to some esteemed wealth, power or bloodline.

He didn't hate his House, but he didn't want them getting mixed up in his earthly life too much. He liked to keep Wiccan affairs separate from his Earthly. Despite spending a fraction of his childhood in the Realm, there were things he wanted entirely separate. If he were any higher up the chain, there would be greater scrutiny on the things he did or didn't do. He already has to deal with the frustrating questions about how much longer he intended on spending time in FATE as if he had done it out of some rebellious act because of their comments. The idea they would be weighing actual opinion on the groups he walked with, was horrifying.

Noir and his mother never said a word about his bonds. As stern and distant as Lady Noir acted to be, he had noticed a subtle warmer side to her in the months passing that his grandmother assured him was there if hard to see. But Lady Wanda? She was the most outspoken of the six. And the circles she stuck to were just as snobbish and nitpicky. She led the front in Intel gathering during the Second Witch Hunt for various Wiccan groups during retaliation for Spirit's murder, and if she was already asking about Feng and Aki, who they were, and knew things like the Irish girl he had been briefly seen talking with, it was guaranteed, if her curiosity was piqued, she would dig into more.

Though it was slightly stressful knowing his pseudo suitors would be there with him, it was nothing compared to the horrible idea that his more outspoken, more demanding Aunts, would be looking into his own social circles more closely.
The real relaxation came during the brief hours of break on their journey to Egypt to reach their destination.

Here, at least, for as long as the mission lasted, he wouldn't need to have it weighing on his mind how Lady Wanda even knew so quickly that Feng, Aki, and Dani had all been after him, or the fact there had been one or two others also affected who were unable to physically reach him.


The briefing here provided the perfect distraction and encouraged a greater sense of focus. He had lived in Egypt for a few years, the climate conditions was nothing he felt truly concerned about.

The jeep ride coming to an end was the perfect excuse he needed to get out and stretch after sitting for what felt like so long. And once he was done stretching his arms and legs, Ark let out a tired sigh after hearing Guide Moreau's retelling of events.

Though his glance down at Feng didn't show it, he was far from pleased at her easy dismissal. The only thing that did show it was the slightly questioning raised brow. "
Not wrong but not entirely right either." was his reply to the statement.

A good necromancer, a truly good one could do more than just bring back the dead, which was simple reanimation at best. They could make Greater Zombies like the late Sid Barrett, and make those zombies see all of them as the enemy through mental trickery with strong suggestive magic like the sort they faced at the Hawaii Resort that had fucked with their brain chemistry. Good ones, the rare sort, could make not one Sid Barett but multiple, maybe not exactly on par with the late undead Meister, but it didn't need to be on par when a zombie already had paranormal strength exceeding anything human, even capable of matching Hybrids like Nadia and that was while she was using Amplification. Witches like Kim Diehl, in early human studies as magic and the Guild were being introduced back into the world, were theorized to even use a form of Necromancy that was based purely in the art of Healing. All of that was just theory of course, but it just was a mental note for Ark that necromancy was more than what was popular in movies, sci-fi and the fantasy genre in the last century plus.

"If they are related to this shrine I expect them to be a problem even if we do have the tactical advantage, even if they are reanimated corpses. Anubis was more than just another underworld god. He was revered as a warrior in some interpretations I recall. I am expecting this place to mess with us royally the second we are in." and from the history he knew of Egypt in his time living here, he knew there was old school magic that likes to play games with all that entered a temple. He was expecting the undead to really be the least of their worries. The traps were obviously going to slow down their procedure, he was more worried about the magic he may or may not even be able to sense within the Temple itself.

Still though, investigating the campsite wasn't a bad idea. The thought of using his sensor wave made him wonder if he might pick up on anything of importance, fine tune it with a magic circle. However with what might be around, he decided against it. It was likely he wouldn't get a clear picture at all.

Peeling off to do his own investigating to see what he could find.

Mentions: Merciless Medic

Interactions: RedArmyShogun Shotgunpenguin Mook-LandStrider EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | Hallerbos Forest, Belgium

There was that spark of greed.
The cord was yanked and the blades shifted.

Wren rattled as he swung, the rattling did nothing though for his bear trap grip as he swung, nor did it change the path he was aiming for. Horizontally, shifting and changing hands while keeping one hand on Wren at all times as he did, going up in a slightly angled path to both push and cleave.

The arrows were sliced like a knife coming up on onions. There was a microsecond fraction of resistance Zosar detected when Wren's whirling blades came into contact with the first arrow and then collided with all three at an angle. Using Wren's whirling blades as a makeshift shield to block the ensuing path of the arrows directly in front of him. At the same time he used that resistance to slide himself outwards along with friction's slide, consciously aware of his body's position and the danger of a single arrow making it through to provide himself the necessary space he would need to up his chances of dodging.

It wasn't needed however as she cleaved through all three once that microsecond stretched into a single second. The muscles in his left forearm, hand gripping Wren's handle, pulled taut once her blade sliced through the third, and he immediately, with remembered ease, brought her back up in front of him, slightly askew, as a guard against any possible potential attacks with the movement of his wrist.

"You're just putting yourself in danger if you go up there on that broom" was what he called out to Maria through comms at her suggestion, his tone relaxed but there was an edge of sharpness in there that came from a concern. "If Astilla and her assailants went into this facility fighting each other" he went on, "on top of multiple skilled Witches", granted most were Researchers, but he knew Researchers among Enlighteners that could kickass. Fact was Medusa Gorgon had been such a type, "then their priority isn't us. You try drawing her attention and maybe that'll also draw their attention to you. And this is a guess but given what we found at the facility I am positive there is an Anti-Magic User helping in the pursuit." He started with a decorum of bluntness that was actually quite gentle with how he was speaking while still running. It wasn't urgently paced but clearly concise that he thought any of them trying to distract was a horrible idea.

Last thing he needed was Ark AND Raph or Dani and Nadia breathing down his neck for letting Maria do something that would get her killed or injured. More importantly, he wanted to get to know the quirky crafter, but couldn't do that when she was six feet under.

He didn't see the success rate turning in their favor if both of her assailants turned their attention on them either or if all three decided a momentary alliance to switch their attention to the annoying pests chasing after them. Situations like these were finicky at best. Frankly he hoped they wouldn't have the rare common sense he had seen displayed only a few times while working against syndicates, to form a truce and work together against a common enemy.

That would be an absolute ass to deal with. None of these thoughts transitioned through the link, but the hint of caution within Zosar did make its presence known through their resonance.

That's when she asked her question.

He felt the briefest pang, a barely present pulse from her soul. Like a vibrant jolt going from her into him. It was hard to even tell if that was her bloodlust kicking in or an influence of the Madness. Adra's had felt entirely different, just as Becky's one brief instance in slipping had too. What clued him in was the familiar sensation inside of him; it briefly tingled before he snuffed it out without even thinking.

He gave her an amused chuckle, physically not spiritually, that was just from how eager she sounded. 'I sure as hell ain't bum rushing nobody even with cover fire Silver .' And that wasn't a question of trust, it was a question of what the hell they would meet if he did. 'I'll give you a freebie though and check.'

He had been planning on getting answers now anyway.

To which he spoke with a click as he tapped the comm earpiece. Cleared his throat as he leaped over a downed log and moved forward, to say "Hey guys? I don't care between you or Elly, who tells me. I just want those answers now. My darling Wren here is feeling peckish and I veto playing distraction against targets that are either far beyond our capabilities or will wipe us out the second we do pose an actual annoyance to them. Pot shots aside, if they wanted us dead we would be fighting for survival. I already said I think there's a Anti-Magic user up there, that's my guess, Astilla is a whole other problem. Give us the details on who else you think is up there or what about those three has you so tense, please and thank you"

It was as polite a request as he made it. And it was as blunt as he could possibly be without raising his voice or sounding aggressive through the comms. The click signified he was done talking.

His next actions depended on what he did or didn't hear.

Mentions: Sir Les Paul RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen

Interactions: Haze-

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Amelia Misonuka​

"Royal-Pain"​

Species Human (Golem)
Partner Nikka (Razor Fan)
Rank Three Star-Star

Location Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
Mission ???
Status Excited

​

Tags: The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Haze-

"Oh, you won't be stopping Lady Piper today..." echoed a voice from above, though ambiently without a definitive source.

The arrows might have proved futile against the defenses of the agents, but they were never meant to do much more than slow them down. To that end, they served their purpose. The agents had, in fact, been intercepted.

Following that bodiless voice was a rain of slashes comprised purely of wind, each with an impact capable of carving into the solid ground. Not only destroying the beautiful bluebell carpeting, but rending any of the unwitting agents below had they not paid attention. Worse is that these wind scythes targeted not only the agents, but the dolls of Maria and her threads. For this first strike, her dolls would take little more damage than a faint dent on their wooden bodies, but the scythes had the unique property of severing her connection to them. Unless this were some spell, and there was no magic in the air, that all but confirmed precisely what Zosar had said earlier: they were dealing with an Anti-Magic Wavelength.

"Not that you could... Lady Piper is Lord Eros' finest creation," the voice continued on, now echoing through the trees.

"She's not like that outdated model you have with you..." it continued, now taunting the group.

It did finally make an appearance, emerging from one of the trees behind them. Just thick enough to hide her dainty physique, but barely so that it seemed impossible. It was a play on perspective. A trick of the eyes. Now that she was in sight, the wavelength radiating off this girl was intense. Comparable to any Three-Star back at the DWMA, though still notably below the elites, like Starwulf or Az. Regardless, she was in a whole tier above every agent present.

"It doesn't matter, though; I'm your opponent, not her," said the new figure, smiling wide and almost jubilant as she scanned over the group in front of her. She grinned. Wickedly.

"You may call me... Royal-Pain. And, I'll be the one killing you today!" she told them, her voice carrying a spark of energy that could only be compared to a service employee that somehow actually loved her job. With Roya, though, she did love her job. She got to hurt so many people and kill so many Witches... so, so many. She was on her third Death Scythe now.

With that last comment, she opened up the metallic stick in her right hand, unfolding it to reveal a row of seven razor sharp blades connected via a red paper ribbon. A Japanese style fan, though made with razors. Also, a Demon Weapon. Worse, actually, a Death Scythe, though not obvious yet. That wicked grin of hers widened before she swung the fan in front of her, conjuring a massive gust of wind that upheaved the entire area, causing trees to sway and even some older, more robust ones to break in half.

With that, her wavelength surged and she shot off like a bullet, aimed directly at Maria. Bloodlust filled those sapphire eyes of hers as she honed in on her target, using the backdraft and her own immense speed in combination with the fact the wind would be working against her opponents to make this dash especially deadly. Her initial goal was simple. Get in close with her fan, disrupt any magic the witch would case, and slit her throat.

"I'll start with this filthy Witch!" she shouted en route, manic and even enthusiastic about her upcoming onslaught.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Midori☆Hoshi​

"Dark Star"​

Species Death Golem
Partner Eloise Keegan
Rank Two-Star

Location Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
Mission Belgium Blues
Status Focused, intense

​

Tags: The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Haze-

'You want information? Fine,' Midori spouted, clearly not appeased by being questioned in this dire time.

'The way I see this situation, those two have been waiting here to pounce on Astila. She's the target. Now think that through, Elly,' Midori continued on, his aggressive attitude seething into every word that poured into her mind from their link.

'We know it's not the DWMA. That narrows down the list of agents capable of making Astila run. The Plague Doctors or some elite Eros Golems, Midori continued on, spewing his logic at Elly, 'and here's the real kicker. That sound those arrows made? That fighting style. I know it. It's identical to Ao; I would know it anywhere. So this is Eros... hunting Astila.'

Then came the wind, disrupting the entire flow of conversation he was having with Elly. It wasn't magic, he could feel that much. This was something else. It wasn't the trademark whistling wavelength of Ao, either, so it had to be someone else. Whatever it was, it was enough to infuriate him. It was just another step between him and reuniting with Ao. Elly was in fact capable of destroying the shots fired at them from mid-air, but withstanding those wind scythes was another ballgame entirely.

This was a pivotal moment for Midori. He had to refocus. Knowing that there was any chance Ao was up there had him blinded to the current situation. He knew that. He had take in all the possibilities here. The chances of Ao actually being alive were slim. Eros was a sadistic, creative mother fucker. He could have given that wavelength to any soul he had. Or, worse, he could have taken her soul and made her a golem, too. That made sense. Between the two, Ao was the far more talented. She was a Meister. More so, Midori was a Hoshi. He had a clan to return to. He had anchors in the DWMA while Ao had none. His return as a sleeper agent made plenty of sense.

He had to dilute his thoughts like this. Look at the possibilities. He had to stop fixating on the possibility that really was Ao in front of them. Besides that, whatever it was, whoever it was, it wasn't from the DWMA and it was hunting Astila. Even if it had her wavelength, it wasn't truly her.

Elly needed power. Midori could do that.

It wasn't just about resonance. That's where a lot of these Meisters and Weapons failed. Resonance was powerful, but even it had tiers of power. It was a skill. The very foundation of that skill was Wavelength Control. Midori had that in spades.

With raw focus and determination, Midori allowed his wavelength to course through Elly and navigate her very spiritual pathways. Over the last few months, he had become accustomed to the labyrinth that was her soul. Incognito though it may be, a haze to most onlookers, Midori knew it in and out. They had strengthened their connection in every way they could have in such a short time. With that, it allowed Midori to guide her wavelength through her body. To make it more efficient. More effective. Less stress on her, less focus on her mind. Her wavelength amplification alone would have doubled in capability from this, so long as he remained focused.

More importantly, it set her up for better Resonance. That's what the two needed right now. Resonance. Midori pulled what Wavelength he could into him and began amplifying it, only to send it back to the regulated pathways that he had just opened for Elly. This was where he truly shined as a weapon partner. His time as an Autonomous Weapon gave him insight to how it felt for a Meister to resonate, what they needed, and what their focus needed to be. Wavelength Regulation was generally considered obsolete once duo could Resonate, but a good Demon Weapon knew that Regulation never became obsolete. It just changed in its purpose.

A talented Demon Weapon could make or break a Meister.

Midori didn't open up some huge attack or give Elly some incredible power, instead, he bolstered all of her physical attributes to the maximum of what her body could handle. At the moment, she needed that just to compare to the wind slashes this new Meister was creating.

Midori couldn't have cared less about the taunting or the words from this other Meister. What he cared about was her power. He was sure Elly could dodge the incoming attacks, but they couldn't remain on the backfoot for this whole fight. Worse, it seemed Maria was the target and as is, she was a sitting duck. An Anti-Magic Wavelength left her with little options. She could bolster herself and deflect some attacks, but not for long. If this Royal-Pain as she called herself stayed in close, Maria had no chance of competing with her purely in close quarters combat. Realistically, Midori doubted either Elly or Zosar alone could compete with her that way.

'Elly, we need to use Chain Resonance with Zosar and Wren. I don't see a win condition without it,' Midori told her once she dodged, deflected, or blocked the incoming air slash.

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Hallerbos Forest, Belgium

​

Before she could get any new instructions and a small rebuke from Zosar, Maria spoke out. "Yet we from this ground are in tight corners where an enemy could be behind-" And like clockwork someone did come, announcing themself as Maria uncharacteristically sent her minions out to recon the enemy, a bit unusual for her reserved and in close battle style, maybe she had some sort of plan in the aftermath of this? Still, it had told them what had happened to the witches they were sent for in all likelihood. That being one of the three parties present had killed them. Still, if Midori and the Meisters were so sure there were three targets and were tracking them up till now, how did this one get so close?

"Hmph." Still, she had a plan for this as the woman passed a few words, declaring Maria herself to be the target.

"Earfloss? And filthy? That's rich coming from the girl dressed like a whore. What is the expression for those Earrings? Ah yes, bigger the O, bigger the ho." She said savagely, having spent too much time with Dani and Nadia more likely than not. Still, Maria stood her ground, seeking to goad and taunt her, her allies would likely have free real estate in counting her, "My, my, Royal are we? And Ear Rose calls himself Lord? Mighty large shoes for a traitor gone mad to fill. Maybe that is your special feature, so filthy after all, Golem."

With that Maria was carrying out a plan, first extending her left and right hand together, Maria first summoned mana into herself, casting Wind Enhancement, a spell circle then a second formed, as air compressed and gathered just in front of her, aiming akin to a cone. The false Royal could maybe block magic, but she couldn't physics. Immediately setting the spell off in front of her it was akin to a bomb going off with its full force shaped and directed towards the golem as Wind Explosion activated, throwing Maria back a few feet as she moved her free right hand to grab the broom on her back, activating it with her speed enhancement to put distance behind them, droplets of blood were left from her left hand at the location she once stood upon, hinting that part of her attack had damaged her in kind.

Now was the time to ready her true counterstrike, this would be ambusher would not rob her of her aesthetics. Provided her allies played their part as well.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Elly) Sir Les Paul (Midori, Enemy) The Regal Rper (Zosar) Haze- (Wren)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Yutu Tatigat​

"Astor"​

Species Meister (Werewolf)
Location Daedelon Island
Mission An Ancient Quarry


​

Tags: Merciless Medic EmperorsChosen

All jokes aside, the three were at en passe.

Two of the five bodies they were tasked with retrieving were taken by the centaurs. Furthermore, the centaurs of Daedelon Island were an intelligent group. Unlike the majority of the other creatures there, the centaurs could have quite easily informed DWMA survey corps that the three were there. It created quite the problem. At the very least, the taming of the great, fire-breathing horses impressed the centaurs sufficiently that they were willing to have peace talks and barters with the three.

Which was far better than the rain of arrows that littered the area. Hundreds of arrows far larger than most used by human bows were lodged into the ground, trees, and even some stones in the open, forested area. Not that said arrows would have been a massive problem for the group, just that the sheer volume and size would have made them an annoying task. More so, fighting intelligent creatures with the constraint of not being allowed to kill them would have made the whole scenario much more difficult.

The three were first met by a single centaur. A big, broad man-beast that most definitely would have dwarfed all but the largest of men even if they were more human from their waist down. A single centaur being sent meant a simple thing. He was emissary. Astor was quick to pick up on this from his senses. A Hoshi would have known what sending a single delegate from a large group meant as well. In general, the tactic was effect. The fact the centaur spoke a myriad of languages, including half-decent English, kept the situation from becoming too intense.

Questions were asked. Of course, one such being why the agents were even there. A deceitful answer given, but honesty wasn't entirely necessary. There was truth in admitting they were recovering and destroying those bodies. The centaur followed in agreement with this, but explained that providing them the bodies of those that had tried to invade was not his decision. They would need to visit the tribunal. At the very least, he could quell any concerns about secrecy. According to the centaur, the DWMA surveyors kept their distance due to the danger, and the centaurs weren't on good terms with them to begin with.

They hated the captivity.

They also weren't fond of the behemoths so rightfully tamed being ridden like steeds. It was suggested that the two they had captured be freed and returned to their plains.

The three complied. Or, two, given that only two of them succeeded.

The three also elected to meet with this tribunal. There was little else they could do, as they figured it. The centaurs already knew they were there, and killing any member of a sentient species was likely to be one of the worst outcomes possible. More so, they had a lot to potentially gain from speaking with the centaurs. Locations in general, a layout of the land, the monsters they may face. It wasn't the worst idea, even if it was a risk.

And, it ultimately was a risk worth taking. The centaur tribunal wasn't much of a tribunal at all. One elder was the only one of the three supposed leaders presented himself and took control of the situation. He was more than willing to assist the three newcomers, if they would in turn complete a task that the centaurs could not. In the mines southeast of the centaur forest were a group Myrmekes. Gold-digging ants that grew to the size of ants. These ants were typically docile, but had stolen some of the few treasures the centaurs had. Specifically, idols of their great mother Nephele from ancient times in Greece. Of course, made of gold, but luckily not terribly large.

These ants had hard outer shells that could easily deflect the arrows shot by the centaurs and were in such number that the centaurs could not retrieve them without significant losses of their own. Not only that, they were deep within the mines. The ants had nearly all the gold on the island; they could sense that. They remained in a docile, sleeping state because of it. Otherwise, the entire island would be teeming with them. While it was fortunate that the ants were reclusive to their mines, it was unfortunate for the centaurs that the mines were made by human hand. They were too small for the centaurs to venture into in any large amount of number even if they wanted. And, with no gold to bait the ants, they couldn't draw them out.

But, Alek, Shiro, and Astor were a perfect size, and these ants had no defense against their spiritual attacks. It was a detour, but with the promise to return the bodies of their comrades and their technology to destroy, it was a fair deal. Not only that, the centaurs offered to help them with any knowledge they requested of the island as the centaurs had explored most of it. And, perhaps, most importantly a promise of silence.

"You know, gentlemen, I quite fancy these centaurs," Astor told them, offering his opinion on their current situation. For the moment, the three sat outside the main stone structure that was the alleged tribunal hut. A bonfire was lit with other centaurs roaming around, and the three were offered a fairly decent meal of stew. Its contents were questionable, but flavor and texture were decent. The cutlery was obviously a touch large, as were the portion sizes, but that hardly a complaint.

"Had I been off this island, I might have elected to do this for them as a kindness instead of a favor," Astor continued on, only stopping to use one of his long claws to pry out a piece of mysterious meat from his stew for a taste. It was salted, likely cultivated from the sea, but had a unique herbal flavor he couldn't pin down. It must have been some unique flora or spice of the island. Bright and cutting in flavor, but not with the sharp, chemical taste of something like vinegar. Almost acidic, perhaps a fruit of some kind used to marinade the meat. Whatever it did, it leant to the meat having a significantly different and more vibrant flavor from the thick and savory stock that was used.

"We could try to sneak in and locate the bodies... but that might eat up more time than just crushing these ants," he said, though only after chewing through that meat. Luckily, it was easy. The meat was soft, stewed for just the right amount of time. Though, yet again, he had no idea what it was. It was clearly neither beef, pork, or poultry.

"If we're gonna pretend this is a democracy, I say we just go to the mines and look for the idols. Even if we have to kill a few ants, I imagine they'll be some of the few creatures that a surveyor wouldn't question being killed... they're just bugs, after all," he told them, rationalizing the fact they would inevitably have to kill some of these Myrmekes if they elected to go on the pest control quest.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara & Eva​

Date: September 19, 2067
Location: Alameda Street, Downtown Los Angeles, California
Collab with Mook-LandStrider
Interactions: Nadia, Dani, Raph, Adrian
Mentions: N/A
RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

While the massive clusterfuck that was the Agent event unfolded Evangeline had decided to spend the time she had remaining at the beach. Reflection, that was the whole purpose of her alone time. It had been a very long time since she had an area all to herself and she planned to make the most of it. Jumping up and down a few times she stretched before starting into a light jog. Keeping the pace for a while she let her mind wander.

It had been a wild last several months, she had been through a handful of crazy situations and even had a chance to return to Paris. But the sights were of little consequence, what mattered to her were the events that transpired. She had been paired with Sara, a pairing she didn't think would really kick off as well as it had. Sara ended up being pivotal to the recovery Eva had experienced. There were ups and downs sure, that was to be expected.

Communication was a bit difficult at times but that was no fault of Sara's, Eva had a lot to get over before fully divulging how bad her mental situation had been. Her impulse to take and give had become somewhat rare. That wasn't to say it didn't happen when she was somewhat worked up, she had taken Zosar's necklace just a few hours ago after all. They came to get it back and while it took a bit of wrangling Zosar did get it back.

Impulses aside she finally had something positive training wise. It had taken them months but they were finally getting somewhere together. She finally had some sort of spiritual teeth. A claw, it wasn't super big but that wasn't the point. What mattered was she finally was able to bring something to the table other than being an emotionally unstable lamp with some flashy light bulbs.

Picking up her pace she broke into a stable run, stabilizing her heart rate and slowly settling her body back into a rest state. Refocusing, she moved onto her other addition. On Top of the claw Sara could run on water while in a low end resonance. That was a sorta cool realization. She didn't know what else was in store, it wasn't like she was handed a list of new cool things she could do every so often.

Practice and experimenting was something they just had to be doing as often as they could stomach it. Looking to the water on her left as she ran up the beach she imagined Sara sprinting into the waves. A smile came to her lips before she took a deep breath and focused on running, her mind processing out the new, old, good and bad the best it could.

Meeting back up with Sara that night she learned of what happened and couldn’t be more relieved she decided to avoid the event. Their vacation came to an end and ‘work’ started once more. The sleep schedule change definitely sucked but Eva never really had a problem getting to sleep. Her passive scrying wavelength exhausted her enough on its own to make sleep easy.

---

She was expecting things to be a bit wild considering they were being sent to assist the police in a way. Yet she didn’t anticipate how grim things had actually gotten. They had the info from the cultist, especially their reaction to Dani which Eva found curious. Arriving on scene Eva saw the blood trail and agreed with Nadia. “Alright, if anything happens I will send out a flare of fire. It should be bright enough for you all to see. But that also means if there are others around they could see it, as well.” She wanted to hear what Sara had to say before setting off.

The news of what they needed to help with and what they were able to find while patrolling and interrogating the few cultists the LAPD managed to acquire made Sara’s blood run cold. Such nihility, yet devotion, was something uncommon. Practically unheard of in her circles. And most of all, they were only partially transformed. And then their reaction to Dani had Sara scratching her head. Why were they calling her that?

Dani hadn’t really talked to Sara about the place she went to when she saw her brother, so she was just as clueless as the next person. Nodding at Nadia, she regarded the others in Nadia's plan before getting close to the pentagram, her steps careful. Getting up close and activating her ocular soul perception, she noticed just how bright the pentagram was. Switching to her olfactory senses, she looked at Eva and smiled, extending a hand. “I don’t think we’ll need to go that far from the others. We need to stay close to Nadia and the others so Raph and Adrian can have enough time to trap them. We can use that flare idea when we get separated. Besides, I’m sure they can catch up.” She giggled, a creepy juxtaposition given the satanic crime they were hovering around.

“Alright, this whole thing makes me feel weird. I'll talk to you about it a bit later.” Eva said to Sara. Eva’s particular connection to souls made this situation reek with uncertainty and unease.

Realizing just how creeped out Eva was, Sara chuckled sheepishly. “Ah, right, I’ll try not to be so creepy about it.” With Eva transforming into Sara’s hand, she went about following the blood trail, picking out anything soul-wise that would leave a trail with her olfactory soul perception before switching to her more natural sense of smell to pick apart an actual scent from a possible body before following the blood trail out of the area. She kept her posture low, crouching and occasionally swiping the bloody trail with her finger and getting a closer sniff to her nose to not miss anything to start tracking. As she crouch-walked, she would sometimes use her other hand in a three-legged stance to move, her eyes and ears peeled for anything, ears on a swivel and every part of her stiff.

Deciding not to be slow, Sara began to power-crouch-walk with ease, following the trail like a bloodhound on pursuit.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Date: September 19, 2067
Location: Alameda Street, Downtown Los Angeles, California
Interactions: Sara, Eva, Nadia, Dani, Adrian
Mentions: N/A
Mook-LandStrider RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

What a mess…

Raphael was less than enthused about this mission. Not because of its contents (even though the whole madness thing was concerning), but because of Dani and Nadia being his leader, and then Mr. Pain accompanying them. He was at least glad Sara was here, but he was hoping she didn’t hate him for what he did to Zosar and Noah.

She didn’t seem to care - or just didn’t let it bother her - about what had happened during that time in Hawaii. Honestly, he would have done the same if it wasn’t such a sore spot on his pride.

Regardless, he went over all the interrogations and the investigation the LAPD had given them, finding it odd that they had some kind of nihilistic reason for doing all of this. Yes, it was true that they were all mad, but that didn’t mean that they needed to nurture it or be consumed by it. While he himself was a hedonist, he didn’t want to indulge in all basal carnal desires like that.

When he heard of what that man said to Dani, he was extremely confused. Yeah, Dani was a demon in her own right, but for a completely different reason. He likened her to a hellhound, in all honesty.

He knew better than to say that outright though.

Being in front of the pentagram and shifting his shoulder bag to find comfort, what was interesting to Raphael was the lack of magical presence here. “I’m not sensing any magic.” He commented, then listened to Nadia as she gave her idea as to what to do. Thanks to his magic circles, he can actually put down an array of anchors for his entrapment spells. “I may not be able to suppress anything if it’s all spiritual, but I should be able to suppress any magic they may have.” He wanted to prove everyone that he was safe to be in a team with meisters and weapons again.

Though, he couldn’t help himself but to comment on Dani and Nadia’s comments about being called a demon when in weapon form. “They might mistake Nadia for a demon or a demon tamer if they do recognize you.” He smiled, though immediately backed up and away from the leader, her weapon, and her weapon’s boyfriend.

He watched as Sara began tracking the scent from the blood, curling his lip at the… very barbaric and animalistic display she was sharing with the others. Did she have no shame?

Apparently not.

He looked around for anything that would be amiss before following Sara, letting her go off and giving her some space before tailing her, keeping an eye out for anything that might try to appear behind her, his hand reaching for his chain demon tool and his grimoire just in case.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Noah Wiley​

Date: September 18-20, 2067
Location: The Eastern Shrine, Qena, Egypt
Interactions: Moreau, Gauss, Arkayis, Annika, Wes, Ark, Feng, Aki
Mentions: N/A
Mook-LandStrider RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul The Regal Rper Peckinou Shotgunpenguin

Despite having been used to Nevada’s sun, the heat in Egypt posed quite the problem to Noah. He would get burned by the sun anyway back in Death City, and showed a rather lack of affinity towards the heat.

Still, being taken to Egypt was cool, it let him enjoy the fantasies of games that had taken place in Egypt as he daydreamed, his gaze looking out over the shifting sands and sparse vegetation. The cool, crisp night air felt wonderful, but it soon got too cold for him and then was mumbling curses as the sun began to blaze away all the chill he was attempting to enjoy.

Whatever.

The guide said some things about the shrine, briefed them, then spoke of the campsite. Noah rolled his eyes, getting out of the car as soon as Gauss parked it. Gauss’s words had Noah raising an eyebrow. But Gauss did then make a point about searching, earning a nod from him. He would much prefer this easy-going scavenger hunt than dungeon delving in all honesty. Even though he was going to be wielded as a weapon, he couldn’t help but wonder just how narrow these tombs will be. He just hoped they had enough room for himself and Arkayis to be useful. Every Egypt game he played always had such thin corridors.

Noah looked about at the campsite, seeing its disheveled appearance made him wonder just how badly they were overrun.

He had no questions, but stood beside Gauss as he squinted at the campsite before him.

“Le’s just hope we don’t have’ta deal with small spaces in there. Can’t imagine that’d be great for any of us.” He mentioned offhandedly, stating his concern from earlier. He listened to Ark, noting that he probably lived here and was far more knowledgeable on this subject. Wes seemed off in his own world as he began searching the campsite, while Feng and Aki began searching the other side of the camp. Though, he couldn’t help but wonder if their blatant disregard for the strength of their enemy was a good idea.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Alek​

Date: January 15, 2067
Location: Centaur Forest, Daedelon Island
Interactions: Astor, Shiro
Mentions: N/A
EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

Taken in by the centaurs and being able to make a deal with them probably just saved their lives. Destroy some ants to earn their silence and the bodies and tech. Awesome.

His thoughts on the centaur were practical. They held some kind of honor, and they must go by the deal. Their end of the deal made him concerned, however. If the ants were to capture all the gold and were dormant because of it, wouldn’t they have to destroy all the ants to make sure their effigies don’t get taken again?

He groaned, resting his upper body on his knees with his elbows, rubbing his face with his hands. The bowl he was to eat was on his lap, his body hunched over it. He was hungry, but he didn’t know if he should eat it. Seeing Astor enjoy his meal, despite him being the pickiest of them all, had him looking at the bowl again. Might as well eat.

He dug in, quickly demolishing the food in a timely manner despite how late he was to get into it. He wasn’t trying to be messy either, there was still some restraint in his attempt at polishing off this bowl that he wasn’t being an absolute menace with his eating habits. Astor’s “pretend this is a democracy” comment got a laugh out of him. He grinned, then squinted out towards the distance where they must defeat the ants. “Hmph, I wouldn’t mind killing off a bunch of ants either. But if the ants are dormant now because they have all the gold, wonder just how badly we’ll be stirring the hornet’s nest if we go and steal the gold, and if we’ll have to get rid of them all.” He mused, already finding a problem with just “crushing a bunch of ants”.

“Do they know of a… ‘golden ant’ deterrent? Because I’m unsure if we’ll be able to get out of this without completely destroying them all, which can cause problems if the DWMA finds out someone wiped out their entire gold ant population.” He groaned, finishing off his meal and setting the bowl off to the side.