Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[EmperorsChosen]

Aki Kiyoko - North of JFK International Airport

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Aki listened on with vested interest. She didn't really get the opportunity to have a chat with Bloodsuckers, so hearing there was a literal blood bank that they could buy from like a market and how some was more nourishing while others were akin to narcotics was interesting to say the least. She of course heard stories of Bloodsuckers, as had everyone, but it seemed as though they really could just coexist. That in and of itself was a bit surprising to her.

Aki prepared to fire off more random questions before the crack reverberated through the air. Despite being so close to the two, Aki didn't panic. Rather she hardly flinched. Like a switch in her head being flipped, her smile dipped slightly and she hopped back, light enveloping her body before shooting back into Feng's hand. She instantly started regulating her meister's wavelength, filling the magazine and readying herself to fire. When Feng gave the order, Aki charged a bit of her own wavelength into the first bullet as Feng took aim at the direction of the sniper. 'Ready!'

Aki turned her gaze toward the reinforcements. They seemed--normal. Feng didn't specialize in Soul Perception, but even so from what Aki could see through her eyes, they weren't some big-shots like that priest. It didn't make sense for some normal people to attack them in the middle of all this, though she supposed it made everything easier. 'If the sniper is smart, he'll be trying to relocate. I don't think these guys can keep us and Red Fang occupied. One of us could blitz through them and rush the sniper nest.' Whether or not they were fast enough to dodge bullets, that didn't change how much more difficult it was to hit a sprinting target moving from point A to point B than a target walking down the street.

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul Shotgunpenguin

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Daniella Ethalyn - North of JFK International Airport, New York
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Dani grumbled as the woman smugly gave them further details, admitting that she had Super Soul Perception as well. Dani could've sworn that was supposed to be rare, yet she knew of now two people, being the Irish woman in the program, and now the so-called psychic surgeon. "...The fuck's a psychic surgeon?" She asked, finding the two words to be somewhat contradictory to each other.

The woman somewhat answered by explaining what she planned on doing, though to be honest, Dani only halfway paid attention between the pain and the fact that such topics were never her strong-suit. Nodes and blockages and whatnot--Who knew what the hell any of it meant.

Dani narrowed her eyes a bit as the woman called her pinky, though she averted them as the woman spoke further. From what the woman said, Nadia's would be a quick patch-up compared to her own, which caused her to clutch her side and clench her jaw in frustration. She didn't want to be slowing everyone down, especially when they were in the middle of a city being stomped on. Part of her thought that maybe the woman was exaggerating. Doctors did that. They were always ultra-precautious. However, given that Sybil hit the nail on the head regarding symptoms, Dani figured she knew what she was talking about.

"...It ain't that bad... I can push through it," Dani grumbled with a scowl on her face. "We don't have half a fuckin' day..."

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

North of JFK Airport, New York City, New York
GM Post​

Firefight West of DWMA Base...​

A firefight was often a brief series of cascading moments where victory or defeat were the sum totals of decisions made. In that way, the earliest decisions were the most important as they had the most influence onto others.

Red Fang may have been the first out the door, but he was moving fast. A blur, really. He had dropped his concealed soul to begin self-resonating, in doing so, making himself more of a red blur. More importantly, it meant Feng was the easier target by virtue of moving slower. Luckily for her and Aki, this sniper was nowhere near the skill of one of their former mentors, Ace, short though their interactions were. Had it been someone of his caliber, their one-off shot would resulted in a headshot with splattered brains on the platform Feng perched on. Then again, Ace was lauded as the greatest living sniper in the world, so there was an argument to be made that one shouldn't expect his skill level from anyone.

The amplified shot from Aki didn't manage to hurt anyone, but it did accomplish one important thing: Feng would live to fight another day. The sniper she aimed at was already taking beads on her and his scope was calculating the distance based on a wireless weather station nearby. He meant to shoot to kill. With the charged shot detonating nearby, his own shot was deflected by the pressure wave. Thrown off just enough that it missed her core and instead grazed the shoulder of the hand she used to fire her magitech pistol. She missed those shots.

A miss for a miss.

Again, only after flesh was rend from her arm via a flying bullet, did the crack of gunfire echo. It was quiet and faint, all things considered.

It was an indicator that many of the assessments made by Feng and Aki were inaccurate. The sniper would not reposition himself. With men on the ground, he did not immediately need to. It was more logical to maintain position and provide cover. The make and model of his rifle were still uncertain, but it could not be denied that the bullet it fired was incredibly fast and hard hitting. It had blown right through both the platform she was on and the brick wall behind it. The truth of the matter was that these were anti-material rifles repurposed to be anti-agent rifles by retrofitting them with more standard, albeit modern mobile sniper gear. These were uncommon in anything but criminal organizations and more so mercenary groups as their only actual purpose was to fend off agents of the DWMA or superhuman threats like the Bloodsuckers. The only thing more dangerous were the weapons created with the intention of killing said targets, not merely retrofitted.

That truth for not would remain hidden. The truth for Feng was that she was, at present, a sitting duck for another sniper shot if she remained in the same position. More so, while her arm was grazed, it was still bleeding. Undoubtedly painful, but at the least not impeding her immediate abilities. She could still arm her gun or fight, though at the cost of a modicum of her strength.

Perhaps the most important thing she did was a buy time. The window the sniper used on her was a period that Red Fang had to roam freely. He had but one goal in mind: acquire blood. He did this by simple means of ultra-violence. Rushing the first of the seven armed mercenaries near them, he fired a single shot that with his condensed spiritual energy bore a three inch diameter hole through the chest of the man, then used his body as a shield for the brief moment it took him to manually remove the leg of his victim. It did help he could generate a few claws to grip as he ripped the bone from the socket then separated the thigh from its previous home with stretching skin and tearing tendons being the unfortunate byproduct of his acquisition of blood.

Once it was separated, though, he was gone in the same red flash. Back inside the restaurant to provide Crimson the still spurting thigh and more importantly, that sweet red nectar it contained.

Crimson was fairly out of it. Hardly conscious enough to even converse with Wes as the man helped him. Normally, that was the type of polite gesture that Crimson would have acknowledged with verbal admiration.

In this moment, the only thing he acknowledged was fresh blood. As a Bloodsucker, Crimson was one that possessed a degree of magical control over blood. He did not lunge forward at the leg. Instead, he extended his arm and made a come hither gesture. In mere moments, the leg was exsanguinated with its entire content of blood including that on the floor rushing into Crimson like tendrils of flowing wine as if spilt through the air. It smelled of iron and flesh, almost pig like, and it was a fairly intense experience to behold. In fact, Wes might have felt for a moment a brief hit of anxiety as his own blood jumped at the call, though he in truth did not lose a drop. Instead, he got to bare witnesses to the Bloodsucker gorge himself on human blood, having it slide into his mouth at his beck and call and pour into his chest cavity which previously was a hole of mangled flesh.

Not that Wes could have distinguished was in there by the mess. Crimson had a shredded lung, multiple broken bones, and a large exit hole out of his back. When Wes picked up the man, he inadvertently received some splatter of the Bloodsucker blood on his jacket. Something likely not noticed in the moment. However, a new very visceral lesson was to be learned: the power of blood. Almost as soon as the divine nectar flowed into him, his wounds began regenerating. The dark, almost purple substance pooled together to form the pale tissues of his lung which itself inflated with an agonizing pop, his internal tissues above it began stitching themselves back together in what appeared to be haphazard patterns that in truth were the biological construction of various layers of muscle tissues and their base attachment points as well as all forms of silvery membranes and yellowish-white cartilage at the base of bones. In fact, even his bones were pulled back into place by these forming red connective tissues. It was long before the the front of his chest was a clean palette of his light skin. Only moments longer and the exit hole would be repaired as well, albeit that was less noticeable from the outside.

Crimson for a moment had a euphoric look on his face. It was the same one almost all Bloodsuckers had when consuming such large quantities of relatively good human blood. It faded, though, as he came to. Instead, a look of guilt once he realized Wes had seen his desperate devouring of the sinful nectar permeated his face and soul. A soul that now, while still appearing undead, was much easier to read for Wes.

"Probably scavengers," Crimson said, shaking his head while looking down, averting his eyes from Wes, and rubbing his forehead with three fingers. Sensation was coming back to him. "No knowing what scumbags hired them, but they kill first and loot after. Probably only here because we dodged the Paladin patrols," Crimson said, still explaining as he was coming back to reality. As one of the youngest of the Bloodsuckers, he was known for his natural talent. Said talent had not yet matured into the raw power of some others.

"Scavs, eh? Sorry I had force feed you trash," Red Fang replied, mostly just to voice his distaste of the group. He knew what they likely were, too. Not common in the United States, but if anything would bring them out, it was this case.

---

The Coffee Shoppe Basement...​

These girls were stubborn. She could see that. Annoyingly so, but most of the others in Fox Hunt were equally stubborn. Even the most strategic ones would often find themselves willing to die on a hill. This was something the psychic surgeon was accustomed to. She tilted her head and gave Dani a quick glare. In her eyes burned a pretty intense flame themselves. Sibyl was a passionate soul, among many other traits like her pride. She equally wouldn't back down solely because of some whining from a potential patient. She staunch and steadfast in her claims.

With a weight of finality in her tone, she replied to the pink haired-girl in a fairly simple manner: "No, honey... you can't."

Her eyes and head darted quickly back to Nadia. Being chair bound, movements of her head were more dramatic than most.

She replied with a similar tone, albeit this time more condescending than outright heavy. "Why would they? The average agent will never have enough control for the finer details to matter. Besides, half of you lot can't even even keep up in your studies to begin with. Why try teaching you Calculus when you can barely handle Algebra?" she proposed, emphasizing the realistic reason why the DWMA didn't teach this theory.

She just shook her head, then inhaled.

"They'd probably teach you if you asked. Now I don't know you personally, but I do know that the large majority of agents don't have the ambition to continue their studies on their own; and, if they do, it's in a dojo, not a classroom," she pointed out, at least trying to concede one point in favor of the DWMA. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink. The DWMA, especially the Main Branch, is a bastion of knowledge with more information on spiritual studies than likely anywhere else in the world. The only branches that might possess knowledge outside of the realm of the main branch, in her estimation, was the African Branch and the South American branch.

None of that mattered now.

She shifted her attention back to Dani. Her consent was the only actual factor that moved forward. "The fuck do you think you're gonna do as you are anyway? You try to resonate right now and you're gonna fuck yourself up so hard that you'll likely be in the MAD hospital for a few weeks. So, you're options are either go back home and cry about the Paladins or wait through treatment now," she pointed out, outlining the options that actually existed in front of Dani. Or, at least those as she saw it.

"As for myself, I'm just a happy little worker bee buzzin' around followin' orders. Might get myself some honey if I impress our queen," she said, nodding over to Steel who was currently chatting with Mister Prey, getting updates about their current project. Sibyl smiled, but if sarcasm could take form, it would be written across her face in bright, bold ink.

RedArmyShogun Shotgunpenguin EmperorsChosen

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Feng Long
New York City - Eastward of Coffee Shoppe
September 26th​

"Feh. I don't have time to bleed." Feng said in regard to the grazing wound, it had hurt, that was true, it was also true that this was not the first and likely not the last time Feng would be shot, she had a number of such scars across her body, chiefly near the center of mass. And with the colder weather of late September in the New York area, she had a variant of her normal outfit on, with full length pants, form fitting boots, a large bottom split tunic with a black sash, a white under shirt with frills, snug along the upper arms by black bow ribbons and a pair of black gloves. Which meant, with a Quick holstering of her secondary pistol she was able to pull the black ribbon free and quickly used it wrap around her wound, securing the blood flow. Though a graze she still had been shot by a rather large round which normally if not for her enhanced capabilities would result in all manner of consequences and rehabilitation.

The important thing was to not be shot more directly, though she pondered if her cover shooting is what gave him a place to aim, or if he had some form of optic that could actually SEE through a wall, as that would have drastic effects on what could or could not be used for cover, and Feng knew better than to just camp out. Looking at the two vampires, or bloodsuckers, she was a bit surprised how casually such a devastating wound could be overturn with just one leg worth of blood, if one wanted to kill a bloodsucker, well, no, thinking about it, she had killed them before, even if the Chinese variant. No small matter, still, she did learn one thing about all of this as it stood... Always go full force, just as she tried to in Egypt against that would be Pharoh.

"Wes! Well, nice to see you alive? Unalive? Either way, not sure what the Paladins have to do with them keeping away, unless they are cowards." Waiting for Wes to join her, provided she could shock him out of what he had just seen, she planned to make use of him as a shield while self-resonating, maybe she could even make use of his abilities upon being struck by the massive round, or the smaller, or so she hoped, smaller arms of the gunmen in support. "Wes, Aki, we'll run a little interference. I'm not as Wall breaking happy as the Russian, but eh, I'll make do. You two good? Or we got another plan here?" Holding her arm for Wes to wrap around, she seemed eager to put down these "looters", given it seemed they wanted them all dead, but rather than rush off, she waits, moving from her old position, if it weren't for that stupid broach, she could do like in the old days and kill all of the attackers in a blind fury, make that sniper eat his rifle through his ass for the fun of it. Fighting for the cause of "good" with such a handicap was something she was keen to get out of as soon as possible. If ever possible.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Aki/Dani) Sir Les Paul (NPC's) Shotgunpenguin (Wes)

 

[Pumpkid]

Dante Holiday



Location: Village of the Mountain Gnomes-Liberec Region, Czech Republic

Interactions: Sara Merciless Medic Elly EmperorsChosen Kisei Sir Les Paul Wren Haze- Zosar The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun
​

Being called useless is the worst kind of insult. It only confirmed his insecurity of being no good to anyone. That usually means abandonment once it's said and done. It felt like a million stabs to the chest all while he was burning alive from the inside. His soul sparked with rage and fear over the idea. Kisei was merely warning Dante, trying to get him to get his shit together and focus on the reality of the situation. Of course Dante was only half logical because of the fact remained: he could not hurt a child.

Yet Kisei insisted on drilling facts into his head if he did not go through with it. The consequence of endangering Sara by leaving her vulnerable which could lead to death. No! This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Why he chose to be solo in the first place. Now he has to make a choice or repeat the same fate as Rory?

Dante glances at Sara when mentioned. She was a good girl with baggage similar to her previous partner in different ways. He could not stand to lose another. He worked hard to get to where he is now. A chance to be a normal weapon again. To trust. Dante did not want to be the reason the team fails either. One person could indeed be the downfall in a group effort. He's already aware of that from his mistake.

Sara and the others seemed to feel the same way about what happened. He wasn't totally wrong at least. Sara and him were on the same wavelength. Showing aggression only gave the witch and the bloodsucker a reason to be on guard. When she addressed him, he couldn't help but feel annoyed that she could read him so easily. Did she have no boundaries? He clicked his tongue and turned away. He hated to admit that he did not want to be of any kind of burden.

Dante relaxed when he heard Sara's opinion on the child. The fact that she quickly thought of a possible way to disable the child's powers had him dumbfounded. How did he not think of that? There was always a way even if Kisei wanted to obliterate a child for having a unique power that serves the Baroness. Which was in some way understandable as it can be a major issue during the mission. Sara’s final statement made Dante grin. A subtle yet forward insult toward Kisei. All the more reason why he quite liked his partner. Just a smidge.

Now learning about the Baroness, it is safe to assume the mansion is definitely filled with trouble. It might lead to clues regarding the missing team. She might have done something with the use of the child. It would make sense as to why no one has found them. It could also be that ghostly soul the demon lady is Preoccupied with. What if they too had teleportation. It's not impossible if they have a witch that can do that and explain why they appeared and disappeared.

Then the demon then reminded Dante of the talk. He was willing to comply with her orders, but not Kisei. It seemed she managed to simplify his concerns enough to make a decision. If he is going to go through with it he wants to make things clear. He blindly reaches for Sara’s hand while focused on the group.

“If worse comes to pass, I am not going to hurt the kid nor listen to Kisei. I find this guy is speaking out of his ass and he's not listening to what the team says. But…I will not let you die either.”

He squeezed her hand then released it to sanitize it. “Fine, whatever. I'm not one to sabotage the team. I told you that much. I have my own reasons. Let's just get this over with.” He grumbled already over this. If they had a plan he will follow it for now and see where it goes. There was no chance he was gonna risk his benefits.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Kisei☆Hoshi​

Deadsoul​

Species Death Golem
Partner Eloise Keegan
Rank Two-Star

Location The derelict Mansion, Liberec Region, Czech Republic
Mission The Missing of the Giant Mountains
Status Irate

​

Tags: EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper Haze- Merciless Medic Pumpkid

'You are doing well, Elly, but it is time to become Orwellian...' Kisei said, 'I want you to use those eyes of yours to pierce the veil. If there is any deceit in their hearts; they cannot hide it from you.'

That much was exclusively to Elly. An important note because Kisei knew all-too well the practice of dividing information between certain audiences. Dante tried the same tactic, but was not so subtle. If he thought there was some sanctity in his partnership, he would be wrong.

"Agent Middleton, you will in-full repeat to the entire group and audibly what Agent Holiday shared with you via your telepathic connection. This is a command from my station as a mentor of the program. Failure to comply will result in both of your dismissal from this mission and my official suggestion to dissolve your partnership as well as spots in the program," Kisei announced, allowing his words to ring through the comms of each other agent. Thus, literally into their ears.

Kisei was a hard man to read. All Hoshi were. Their souls were absurdly silent and eerily still. There was little scent to them, either, made only worse by the fact he was weapon coated in death itself. It meant the four around him could only take his words at face value. One and only one was privy to his actual thoughts: Elly. She knew the truth. He was dead serious. Frustrated and exhausted, he was tired of dealing with the attitude of Dante and the entitlement Sara seemed to possess. He was more than willing to cut them - send them back to basics - if they could not properly prioritize the mission.

The only other within the group of similar insight might have been Zosar, but that would have been from experience and personal insight. Zose, not only the longest-term pupil of Kisei, but also having literally trained with the Hoshi, would probably be hyper aware of one thing right now: the group didn't bluff. The only time they pulled a feint was to create an opening. Which meant that if this wasn't taken at face value, it was some other type of trap.

It was time to fuck around and find out.

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov
New York City - Coffee Shoppe Basement
September 26th​

With what Dani and this doctor had to say, Nadia chided Dani somewhat softly with a headshake towards the negative. Dani could not be allowed to do that, it was too risky, as she patted her on the shoulder, half intending to sit her down, as her grin faded away. Snorting a bit dismissively, it was not at her partner, so much as the assumptions of Sybil. "Those are the words of fools. Knowledge has as much value as strength in the right hands. My fatherland was always one built upon the works of great men and women who would use both.

I find myself at a disadvantage because I simply did not know the study existed. Now that I know it exists, what it can be used to do, or undo, I shall be doing more than looking into it when time allows, such work goes well enough with my classical records, though I will not lie, my interest in it is for power, and power's sake alone. I shall not falter from simple ignorance again. Hopefully..."

Turning her attention to Dani, Nadia sighs a bit, a slow exhale as she made a motion towards setting her down on the nearest stretcher, a soft, one would say, motherly smile briefly touched her lips and was just as quickly gone. "Let her do it Dani. We have all the time in the world. Either they'll kill the monster before us, the monster will kill us all, or we make it just in time to poison it. we need an opening to get to it either way.

Dani, Sestrenka, in the Great Patriotic War of my people the Army learned a hard lesson, its officers and resources must be given adequate rest to perform their duties. You shall take all of the rest you need. I know what that bastard did to both of us, but I will not take a moment of glory at your expense. We fix you. Rest can wait. If you do not wish to do it for your own sake, then I as your commander and Meister, order you to do it. I am sure Adrian over there would not let me forget if I took you out like this and it put you in the hospital. I need you good to go. Sybil? Yes, Sybil is it? Just carry out your treatments, where we need to be, then we see what fortunes we may get."

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Dani) Sir Les Paul (Adrian/NPC's)

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara Middleton​

Date: September 27, 2067
Location: Derelict Mansion, Liberec Region, Czech Republic
Interactions: Dante, Kisei, Elly, Zosar, Wren
Mentions: N/A
Pumpkid Sir Les Paul EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper Haze- RedArmyShogun

Sara’s ears slowly fell back the more she heard. Elly was correct… Sara can’t be the one to chill Kisei out, it was Elly. The Bloodsucker’s abilities were stated, even the knowledge of the little Witch’s want to not harm them. But, if others could use the Witch’s teleportation… Sara sighed, as Elly spoke more on what was going on with the disappearing soul.

Elly iterated her orders, and Sara nodded. She could manage that. The plan now was to either blitz in or stay behind and watch while they got Bloodsuckers in. Unfortunately, Dante - while he was trying to be sweet - touched her hand and spoke to her privately, but obviously Kisei was no fool.

Fear pulsed through her veins, anxiety prickled at her fingertips. They felt like needles, so many needles as Kisei made his order. She looked up at those blades, shock and fear pulsing through her, legs wobbling. Her collar began to beep, but she swallowed hard - the beep a warning that she would transform soon if she didn’t calm down.

Pressing her lips tightly, she sighed shakily as she closed her eyes, the beeping ceasing. “I’m sorry, Dante… But I won’t let you lose your place with me… I have to, or else Kisei will think we’re plotting against him when the message wasn’t even that bad, and I don’t want to lose you…” Her voice was meek, quiet. Taking a deep breath, she spoke up. Wren and anybody who was close could’ve heard her apology to Dante, but if they did it wasn’t meant for them anyway. Her voice trembled as she recited what Dante said.

“He said… If worse comes to pass, I am not going to hurt the kid nor listen to Kisei… I find this guy is speaking out of his ass and he’s not listening to what the team says. But.. I will not let you die either.” Tears poured out of her eyes at the humiliation, her entire body shivering as anxiety bloomed and constricted her chest, her hands clutched over her heart as her tail was between her legs. “I don’t want to lose another demon weapon partner… I’ve already lost four, I can’t… I just can’t start over again, I’m already so far behind… The only thing we’re good at here is negating magic, but you all are so much better than I am… Without Dante here, I’m utterly useless to be here…” She choked as she tried to suppress her sobbing, doubling over as she was starting to feel sick to her stomach from the stress and anxiety. Her mind was on fire, going absolutely crazy.

She can feel it, something digging beneath her soul, wanting out. She looked up at Kisei, a confused, innocent look of ‘why’.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Kisei☆Hoshi​

Deadsoul​

Species Death Golem
Partner Eloise Keegan
Rank Two-Star

Location The derelict Mansion, Liberec Region, Czech Republic
Mission The Missing of the Giant Mountains
Status Irate

​

Tags: EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper Haze- Merciless Medic Pumpkid

And, find out, they did.

Contrary to what might have been expected, Kisei was not angry or explosive. Neither was he disappointed or sour. In all reality, what Dante said was what he expected. More importantly, Sara following through the orders given was a greater sign of growth than the obstinate attitude of her immature partner. There was still a change to salvage this. Or, perhaps, salvage Sara. Dante might just be outright fucked.

"This is not the time to coddle, Agent Middleton, but understand that most Meisters are fairly useless without their partners just as most Demon Weapons are but stationary objects without a Meister to wield them," Kisei responded first, offering what little condolence he could offer given the situation. Cold though it may be, it was some semblance of kindness.

"Agent Raith, Agent Moretti, it is now your turn to address the group. Sara may believe the message from Dante was not that bad, but I want you two to share with her - as her peers - your opinions on Agent Holiday admitting he will refuse orders when given and his direct questioning of authority. Does that inspire faith in you as comrades? Do either of you believe you feel safe working with an agent actively rejecting orders?" Kisei asked, still over comms, and now doing perhaps the most insidious thing of all: turning the team on itself. Dante and Sara were an echo chamber, but forcibly bringing in two other agents - one with a close relationship to Sara - created an opening that was not so defensible by their emotionally-laden rationales.

"And, lastly, Agent Holiday... I have your dossier. Should you interrupt, I will share with the team why it is you dislike me so... and I mean the actual reason," Kisei threatened, betting on the secret of Rory and Dante's insecurity being sufficient to keep him in line.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Date: September 26, 2067
Location: Steel Pier, Atlantic City, New Jersey
Interactions: Chanterelle, Maria, Ark, Gauss, Arkayis, Noah
Mentions: N/A
Meredith RedArmyShogun The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul Peckinou

Everyone had their piece to say, and Raphael was doing his best trying to keep up that chain wall as everyone spoke. Maria said something about there being something really dangerous under the water, Chant agreed and said she could melt them if they were dead, Maria piped up again and said she could make explosive blasts in the water, and Ark-...

What was Ark doing? He was using too much! “We need to fall back and recuperate, we can’t stay on the frontlines for too much longer-”

But… It felt really good, didn’t it?

Use more, Raphy… Destroy those beasts… Make them suffer…

His chest stirred and ached, and he started giggling. Mania overtook him as he felt the pull stir his madness. He forgot his comms were on. “Hahahahaha, on second thought, who wants to run like cowards? We can take ‘em on still, die like heroes!” He cackled, eyes staring at the nets of water that came down on Ark and himself, and those salty spears that were thrown at them. “If you burn salt, you get chlorine and sodium, and chlorine can explode! Heehee, how about it, Ifechi? Have enough juice left for those things?”

Using the chain wall he made, some of them grabbed at the monkeys already in their clutches and used them as shields against the salt spears to protect himself from being hit. He made a magic circle around himself, uncaring of how much mana he was using as he created a dome of chains to protect himself from the water net while giving himself eye holes to see what was going on ahead. A chain wrapped around his waist as he readied himself to be launched out the back end of his chain dome, just in case the water began to seep into the dome.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Noah Wiley​

Date: September 26, 2067
Location: Steel Pier, Atlantic City, New Jersey
Interactions: Gauss, Arkayis, Chanterelle, Maria, Ark, Raphael
Mentions: N/A
Sir Les Paul Peckinou Meredith RedArmyShogun The Regal Rper

Noah found this battlefield an odd chess game with no sight of the big boss. So many unknowns, it was like the chess pieces were shrouded in fog, unsure of what they were, only that their origin was the water itself. Even with being so high up and being able to see everyone below like some top-down RTS strategy game, it all felt so confusing.

The lightning did its job, but it didn’t feel like it did enough. Raph was trying desperately to hold up a wall of chains and using the sea-monkeys bodies as a part of the wall, but Ark was trying his best to fell as many as he could. Maria was helping Chanterelle get to a more advantageous spot, but it was their words that worried Noah more. Were those zombified monkeys?

Raph spoke of a monster beneath the waves reanimating the dead ape-fish, Maria spoke of there being a possibility of them not being enough to destroy whatever is reanimating the ape-fish, Chanterelle said she could melt them if they were dead and she could feel the strength of whatever it was underwater, and Maria spoke up once again commenting about their situation. A battle of attrition did seem like it was possible, but he wasn’t so sure how long those mages had left of their mana. They were on a timer, and they needed to pace themselves - of which he was more worried about Raphael and Ark due to how close they were to the action. They needed to expend more energy to keep themselves safe and hold the front line. Maria mentioned that she could go about using underwater explosions - which could be lethal due to how concussive force worked underwater - but how would she even do that?

It seemed there was something wrong with the mages, he could see it. He couldn’t sense it, but he noticed it first with Raphael. He was laughing maniacally, saying shit that didn’t make a whole ton of sense given how he seemed quite reasonable earlier and expressed interest on their mana reserves. Was it his madness? The Pull? Both?

There were more people coming onto the beach to help, but also more enemies. It was a battleground. These new sea-monkeys were more intelligent and much stronger, and they were trying to hold down the two front-liners and attack the grounded units first.

He spoke to Gauss, tone strained. ‘This’s bad. Raph’s losin’ himself. If this keeps up, they might not have enough mana. Was this that Pull I’ve heard ‘bout?’ If the Pull made them use their magic more, then they would turn into sitting ducks waiting to become sea-monkey chow if they weren’t careful.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Daniella Ethalyn - North of JFK International Airport, New York
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Dani visibly shrunk as the woman chastised her, similarly to when Davis had during their tests. She winced, her scowl remaining however not so much hostile as uncomfortable. Her head tilted downward slightly as her eyes averted to the side to escape meeting anyone else's. "...I still have the tail thing..." She mumbled a bit meekly before Nadia placed her hand on her shoulder and gave her a speech.

Even Nadia thought that they should slow down and take the offer. They didn't have all the time in the world, though, and after how those assholes reacted, she did kind of want to kill it just as a middle finger to them. Then there was the fact she never much liked sitting in her soul space. Nonetheless, it seemed that the decision had been made for her.

"Fine... Guess I'll go sit in my cave..." Dani conceded with a hint of defeat in her tone.

Folding her arms, she laid back in the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She tried to recall for a moment when the last time was that she ventured into her soul space. That is, not wielded by Nadia. Just by herself. Despite it being hers, she never quite felt at ease in it. It was dank and dark and--lonely. At least when she was more of a loner, she could more comfortably wallow in self-pity. Now, it just sucked.

Shutting her eyes, Dani tried to push aside the knot in her stomach from the rejection as well as the headache, instead focusing on herself. Slowly, she sifted into the familiar caverns that was her soul space. Albeit, it had admittedly grown prettier since she last entered it. The ores and crystals found within the system were more plentiful and illuminated the tunnels. Now she could actually see, at least.

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Aki Kiyoko - North of JFK International Airport

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

'Huh, I guess he isn't smart,' Aku hummed within their shared space.

Apparently, they were scavengers, which made sense. There usually was when there was a battlefield or crisis. However, it still didn't add up why they were attacking. Scavengers were just that, after all. They don't want to fight and die, they want to scrounge valuables with relative ease. Sure, they would fight off some stragglers, but attacking Bloodsuckers and a meister with two weapons was just counter-productive, especially when they weren't in the way.

'Yeah, I'm okay,' Aki replied simply before moving onto the plan forward. 'We either do that or they do. One of us should rush the sniper... I still don't get why they're going out of their way to fight us, though.'

At the very least, the other Bloodsucker was back in the fight, which weighed the odds even more in their favor. So long as they kept moving and going from cover to cover, Aki predicted they'd be fine.

RedArmyShogun Shotgunpenguin Sir Les Paul
[/bg]

 

[Haze-]

Wren
Železný Brod; Czech Republic​

Whatever momentary relief she had at seeing Elly agree with her on putting off the war crimes was just that,

Momentary.

There was a pattern she was starting to notice. This team only started crumbling apart the moment someone got on Kisei’s nerves. It was a slow-burn, simmering up to the top, and once it ran over— it was a sore sight for clear eyes, a damn mess she was forced to see through to the very end.

Wren peered out, regretting being born with 20/20 eyes. The vanta-dark, dampening filter of the seal that covered her soul room flickering in-and-out as her eyes trailed the tears pooling down Sara’s face, until she was sitting down, fidgeting with the neck of a glass of wine. Restless, fidgety, looking to snap it between her fingers.

All of the marble guests where at their seats with their headless stumps hunched down, hands to their neck, table cloth twisted like the statues had been writhing on it. As angry and disgusted as she was, probably. Unlike the Hoshi, Wren’s thoughts and emotions were clear as day for everyone to see. Palpable, the flare of her soul heavy in the air.

It was an aimless, unreasonable anger. Not even she knew if she was mad at Kisei for making Sara cry or at Dante for making things worse in the first place. On one hand, she had a strong semblance of respect for the Hoshi— she looked up to him in a way, wanted to be as reliable and strong as him, for Zosar. Even if he was being an asshole, she found it hard not to agree with him here. He was in the right.

Dante, on the other hand, she could see where he was coming from. She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about things going down for worse, having to hurt the little witch if it meant survival. She couldn’t pretend to be a trapeze artist and walk the seesaw on her morals, not without chewing away at it, simmering on the idea.

That was the big filter between a good weapon and one that gets their Meister killed, she figured. Kisei had already made the harsh choice before it even happened, they were just utterly frozen at the thought.

They weren’t DWMA top-5 levels of strong to be claiming they could incapacitate the child before anything happened. In a perfect world, maybe. But not here.

Even still, understanding that as clear as she was, Wren still couldn’t see herself making the choice.

“No.” — She replied to Kisei plainly. The tone, the accent, the life behind her voice completely gone behind the static of their earpieces — “I can’t trust Sara to have my Meister’s or my team leader’s back with a weapon that can’t even do its job correctly. I cannot.”

There was a beat that came right after, a still, tentative silence carrying over. One that didn’t even break by the sound of her own breath picking up on the comms — “I want to speak out of line. I don’t really care if I’m allowed to or not.” — Another pause, the sound of a claw clinking on glass.

“Dante Holiday.” — She called out, dry, still weighing whether or not the way she was about to run her mouth was something born out of bundled-up emotion or if it was something that needed to be said.

“I don’t know what your problem is— and I honestly couldn’t care less about your little sob story— but you’ve actively been a pain in the ass to Sara since the moment we set foot on that train. She doesn’t deserve to be cleaning up after you every time you throw a temper tantrum like a manchild. You’re just lucky she’s kind enough to put up with your shit.”

Wren didn’t understand Dante, didn’t meet him in any middle-ground. But she could only hope he related with her on something. The way she cared for Zosar, how she would die and kill for him— she wanted to believe Dante felt the same for Sara.

She could only hope.

“You’re her partner. Do you think you’re doing right by her acting the way you act? Do you ever stop to think of the consequences of your actions on Sara? Do you even give a damn about her? Or do you only care about yourself?”

“Can’t you at least be better for her sake, dumbass?” — A longer pause, followed by a grunt and the sound of the glass in her hand finally snapping.

“That’s all I have to say. Fuck off.”

She’d answered herself just then.

The whole spiel had been nothing but pure, unfiltered emotion speaking over her composure.

RedArmyShogun The Regal Rper Merciless Medic Pumpkid Sir Les Paul

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Wes Kraven
Ruined Restaurant, New York
September 26th

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul ​

---

The approaching force was almost on top of them now, rapidly closing in on the restaurant as Wes ran through his options. In the worst case, even without Feng to assist him, he could make his own exit through one of the walls connecting the buildings together. It’d be loud, but with her and Fang keeping them occupied he would have a decent chance of slipping out with the bloodied bloodsucker in tow.

But before he could act on his thoughts, one of the souls that were approaching them spiked, where it was tinged with a bit of confidence or arrogance just moments before, it was wholly drowned out by a new set of emotions. First surprise, and then fear, before like a candle the sound was snuffed out entirely.

His eyes widened, head snapping to the window only to find Feng still perched behind her piece of cover, bleeding slightly from one of her arms but still where she was before. A wave of relief rushed over him, but before he could dwell on it any further an offensive, almost metallic scent caught his attention.

He barely had enough time to register as Fang returned, holding a severed leg that was dripping with fresh blood all over the floor of the restaurant. He held it out in front of Crimson, the crimson liquid oozing from the bloody stump like a thick syrup and prompting a reaction from the injured bloodsucker. He raised his free arm and held out his fingers, and Wes felt a slight pull from just beneath his skin that sent a spike of anxiety through his chest. As quickly as the pull came however, it soon vanished as it found its way to its real target, the severed leg.

The blood responded as if it were alive, flowing through the air and pooling itself into the sucking chest wound. From his position supporting the bloodsucker, he couldn’t see what was going on on the inside of his chest cavity, a fact that he was grateful for. But the mind had a funny thing about filling in the blanks, as even though he couldn’t see what was happening, he could most definitely hear it. Bones that were undoubtedly cracked and broken snapped back into place, wet squelches of blood being forced out from the pressure of the reconstruction.

Wes wasn’t sure if his skin was crawling from what he had just witnessed, or if his blood was still trying to push its way through his skin, drawn in by whatever force Crimson had used to drain the dismembered leg. Whether it was some form of magic, an application of his soul, or some ability derived from being a blood sucking undead, he didn’t know and honestly couldn’t care.

Soon the only indication that the bloodsucker was ever injured was the crimson that stained his clothes, and the circular hole punched straight through the front of his shirt. As soon as he thought the man could stand on his own, Wes was quick to release the arm slung over his shoulder and take a large step back towards the window.

The look on his face was a cross of emotions, ranging from disgust, revulsion, and even a tinge of fear towards the mercenary duo. The visceral exsanguination of a leg that, less than a minute ago was attached to a living person, was horrid enough. But the fact that they were so casual about it, even going so far as to call the blood trash, was enough to swing Wes’s opinion of the duo into the red.

Reaching back, he grabbed onto Feng’s wrist and assumed his weapon form, wrapping his cord around her arm and pressing himself flush against the outside of it. ‘Let’s just deal with the sniper.’ His reasoning was a lot less tactical than what Feng or Aki’s may have been. He just wanted to get as much distance between him and the bloodsuckers as possible.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | Czech Republic

Not even a moment of down time before the fire gets turned on again huh? The field was never a place for light banter, or maybe it was just the people he was around that made it hard for light banter in moments like these to alleviate a tense situation.

Internally when their names were called all he could do was nod. He had expected that, this wasn't his first time witnessing a situation like this, it was his first time witnessing in FATE, but having chewed someone out in EAT years ago, and having multiple opportunities on active field cases as a mercenary to experience this within the various teams he had worked with outside of infiltrator missions or investigative activities, he had seen more than enough fair share of when disciplinary action was being put in place.

Just like all those times, as he had learned, he stayed 100% out of it. Elly didn't need to look deeply into his soul to see that the ex Merc agreed with Kisei.

Morally he had no high ground to stand on. It threw him back to when Elly, he and Kisei had met and went out for a bit. Truth was, if it came down to it, like Kisei he would attack. Was it morally right to attack the Witchling? Some would say no, some would say yes across the spectrum and others wouldn't really care about outside input; the Rogues of DWMA that had a hardon for hating non-humans or humans descended from non-humans that were sympathizers certainly wouldn't.

He'd killed his first criminal at somewhere between ten or eleven and he had taken satisfaction in rage with Markus in doing so even as the same murderer had begged for his life. That was morbid, yet it had been their bonding moment. His and his team on that day.

And in this discussion his mind went back to that instance. He was not incapable of seeing things from their perspective, but he also recalled vividly how he had felt no guilt whatsoever in doing what he had done, knowing what he had known about the target. Sure, there was a massive difference between a young adult criminal and a child-- but if they were talking about morals, violence was violence. Most people instinctively balked at harming others unless they were trained to or were just shitty people at their core.

For a lot of this, unlike Wren who had voiced her earlier thoughts on avoiding war crimes that Elly agreed with, Zosar had been preemptively silent. It wasn't a matter of if he would or wouldn't perform if it came down to it, or if he had it in him-- there were a lot of terrible things he had no problem actually doing if he allowed himself to cut out the more withdrawn logical side he had been taught to. Had he been younger, in his prepubescent years he might have argued a bit with Kisei on this matter, but he wouldn't now. Not with the experience he had on the field, if it was necessary and if he was willing, minus foolishly sacrificing his own life or Wren's because dead men--unless you had an undead cheat code-- were useless. In this case it was about the team. And if it came down to it, he wouldn't have a problem decking Dante if he embraced manchild status too much.

Wren might have picked on how his soul did not pulse with irritation, his soul was not silent but it was abnormally steady in this tense atmosphere, there was a subtle shift though at the detection of Sara's growing anxiety but even her tears did not make him move to go to her immediately. He wanted to, but he didn't. His eyes held the empathy for her, but his expression was neutral, where his soul could be read, his facial expressions weren't, and the two mirrored each other as best they could.

Detecting Wren's anger even, Zosar said nothing. Not when it was their turn to go, he let her speak, gave her the respect to do so without cutting her off, especially as she targeted Dante- and then when she was done he looked at Sara.

It was in his eyes that said: Sorry about this. Even if his expression showed no sign of remorse.

So when he smiled slightly at the end of Wren's scrutiny at her fellow Weapon, it was a rather sardonic expression in the situation.

“She said everything I was thinking. At least” he shrugged “in regards to you, Dante.”

“I can't say I would be comfortable with an unreliable teammate.” He certainly had chewed others out in EAT for less, such as behavior during a mission. “Though I should point out, D-” sliding in a shortener, “you said you wouldn't sabotage the team. How exactly are you avoiding that by ignoring the words of your teammates, and putting your Meister in this situation?” He asked the Weapon. “Serious question”, Zosar clarified, as he didn't want it to sound like it was rhetorical, “I want an actual answer.”

By the time he had said that last line he was by Sara's side.

“As for you” his tone much more considerate, “breathe.” His hand gently did circles on her back, patting lightly at the word.

He didn't offer her assurances or anything of the like on the possibility of what might happen. He just focused on that

He knew emotions triggered her Werewolf form, the more intense they were but in all honesty it wasn't about preventing a sudden shift in her form.

“Deep breaths, slowly.” He instructed softly. Mimicking the act as he did. “If you need to cling on don't be afraid to get grabby with me.”

It wasn't an actual joke, in fact he was dead serious but the way he said it, well that left a lot to the imagination of the implication

Watching her have an anxiety attack was a bit too cruel, not that Kisei hadn't tried to soften things with his words just now. If Dante's reaction fed into her it would just make this whole situation worse.

Four Weapons though? His smile was more empathetic though as he looked at Sara.

That was rough. Exhausting especially since he knew exactly how that felt. Coming back he had shared that sense of frustration at starting again. It was a miracle he had Wren before things picked up again.

He hoped whatever Dante's response was, would be reasonable.

Else he'd sock him hopefully before Kisei did.

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul Merciless Medic Pumpkid Haze-

Interactions: n/a

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Atlantic City - New Jersey​

Before she could gage much of a reaction from Chanterelle, Maria found herself swept up in events, looking not at the Witch, but beyond her, past her. With a grumpy glare and mana enhanced eyes burning a bright Red, she was as a few times before, taken by the pull. If not for the suddenness, she would have tried to resist, to push past it and beyond. But now, things, well things were different.

Taking in all the destruction and the undead abominations that dared to undo her work even more with those murder fish, it was far too much to tolerate, far too much, the ruined buildings, the lack of even bodies, chaos, pure chaos. Bitting into her own control wires and running them through her teeth, she had more than enough of these vermin and filth. At this point the only repairs could come from a clean slate, something far better would be constructed.

Using a combination of push and pull, as she went back into the interior of the beach, she would hope the agents were quick enough to dodge, though she also looked for places empty of them, picking up huge segments of debris, Nature may be stronger... But a chunk of reinforced Concrete, and I-beam or support strut made of Oak had power all their own as wind detonations and blasts were used in directional arcs to fire the materials one by one into the undead beachhead, even crashing into the water, ripping and pulling, or breaking limbs. It was akin to some sort of gravity gun from an old videogame. The trash would be used to remove the trash. Pure and Simple.

Interactions: Merciless Medic (Raph-Noah) Meredith (Chanterelle) Sir Les Paul (Gauss) Peckinou (Arkayis) The Regal Rper (Ark)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

North of JFK Airport, New York City, New York
GM Post​

Firefight West of DWMA Base...​

Wes wore his heart on his sleeve. Both Crimson and Red Fang knew they had spooked the man. Understandably so given what he just witnessed, especially if he had never encountered it before. Feng and Aki seemed far less put off by the combination of consumption and ritual healing performed just moments prior. Granted, Feng wasn't present for the initial pull Crimson exerted on the blood or him at his most desperate. Aki was in her weapon form the entire time, offering her some level of immunity from both the effects of the blood magic and their ability to sense her more visceral feelings. When it came to Wes, they could literally smell the fear within him. Hear his increasing heartbeat, almost even taste the triggering of his central nervous system response to the situation. It wasn't some feat of empathy, it was simply knowing how prey responded.

In sum total, what Wes and to a lesser extent the rest of the group just witnessed was at core why Bloodsuckers had such a negative reputation. There was a solid argument that they did nothing wrong. The blood from the leg Crimson consumed was that of a man trying to actively kill them just to loot their bodies. While not a warzone, this most certainly was a battlefield. The problem was fear. It was rational to fear what a Bloodsucker might to do survive in the most dire of circumstances. And, unfortunately, one would never know where any one Bloodsucker would draw a line until it was too late.

Empty promises were as deadly as any blade or bullet.

"Do we really need to fight them?" Crimson asked.

By this time, he had shifted his attention to Feng. He and Blue Steel shared plenty of physical features, but in fact were not related. The trend in appearance between the men existed only due to the genetics in London at the time of their turning, but one could not be blamed if they thought becoming a Bloodsucker magically made one attractive. It did not. Bloodsuckers retained most of their human appearance unless they later developed abilities to change it or otherwise adapted some vampiric traits. There was a question hidden here in that if beautiful people might seek out this transformation for an eternity of vanity. Feng knew better, at least; the jiangshi of China, though rare and mostly preserved in temples, were ugly mother fuckers and distant cousins to Bloodsuckers.

"Why bother asking, Crim'?" Red Fang interjected.

"They're agents. They see bad guys and want them dead or taken in," he added, his tone somewhat demeaning.

"Hold your horses, Red. These Fate Agents are wild cards," Crimson responded, his eyes quickly darting over to Red Fang then back to Feng in an organic way.

"Let's actually discuss this. Scavs are generally human. Not even good mercs, either. They use dirty tactics like snipers and landmines. Chances are, they'll shoot anyone they think have valuables or are with the DWMA that pass through that chokepoint. Thing is, the sniper is to the East... if we just take a detour North, we can go around them. Not like those fuckers with guns can keep up with us," Crimson explained, outlining how there was a way to get out of the situation without confronting the sniper at all. Of course, it would mean the group would be leaving them to potentially prey on others that passed through, sans the guy used to feed Crimson.

"Speaking of dirty tactics, we're gonna want to speed this shit up, guys. They may be fodder, but they probably have explosive. I don't want to be around when they break out the grenades, thrown or rocket-propelled," Red added, having both a sense of urgency and annoyance about them.

"I'm just saying that if it were just us two, we wouldn't bother. Besides that, snipers and Bloodsuckers don't quite get along. There's a reason the best sniper the DWMA has is also a Bloodhunter," Crimson told them, outright admitting that if left to their own devices, neither he nor Red would bother actually taking out the scavs. Why would they? They're mercs, so unless paid to do so or unless done out of necessity, dealing with secondary targets was an absolute waste of time.

Irony being that Crimson had no idea Feng knew Ace. Chances were, Feng also had no idea Ace was a Bloodhunter.

---

The Coffee Shoppe Basement...​

The process of psychic surgery turned out to be far more interesting than expected, though not necessarily for the academia.

Nadia went through it first and Sibyl tried to show her precisely what she had meant with her slew of definitions regarding the finer elements of the spiritual network. At best, Nadia could see her largest spiritual conduits: those following her aorta to circulate blood through her body. Before being told what to look for, the general idea of a soul was that it was a pulsing mass of spiritual energy that radiated wavelength out from it and through the body. It wasn't taught to be some structured network, but more like a generic flow. In fact, the idea of it being a finite network was counter-intuitive to the more spiritual side of Soul Studies. That was a side-effect of the world having so many cultures all trying to make sense of the same thing. Nevertheless, the point was, the thin branches of conduits quickly became to fine for Nadia to make out. She was lost long before they reached her arm.

At the very least, she could see it from its core in her chest. More importantly, though, she could at least see the closest nodes to her heart. The little pools or valves that wavelength poured into before continuing on their journey through the body. In the moment, she didn't have a lot of time to experiment with it, but even just seeing one node meant that if she were meditate on it later and regulate her wavelength, she could begin seeing how her nodes reacted to her willpower. The type of training Starwulf pushed her through. It wasn't a subject for the moment nor would it be an easy one to truly comprehend, but once she hit that eureka moment, a lot of the methodology behind how Starwulf had trained her would click together.

The EAT program taught its basic Soul Studies class more like a Spirit-Training-For-Dummies class. It was only the tip of the iceberg. Delving deeper was not just a feat of ambition, but nearly a requirement to breaking into the upper echelons of spiritual power.

With that said, the amount of raw skill that Sibyl performed on a spiritual level was something that even Nadia would likely appreciate and admire. The moment Sibyl transitioned from trying to educate the agent to truly trying to repair her arm, it was a wild sensation. Sibyl was able to use Wavelength Adjust to such a degree that the spiritual energy she effectively pushed into Nadia wasn't just compatible, but it was almost if not more compatible than what Nadia allowed to course through her regularly. Starwulf had taught her that as her wavelength radiated from her soul, it slowed down, and thus by the time it reached her muscles, it wasn't at her perfect signature. Nadia had adapted this knowledge and with it, her Wavelength Amplification and Soul Force had grown tremendously stronger and more efficient.

But, they were still skills. Things to be developed and grow over time.

Sibyl was able to course through the spiritual network of Nadia as if she had lived in her giant body her whole life. Sibyl didn't cause any discomfort, it was quite the opposite. It was relaxing, like a deep tissue massage. It was invigorating, especially as the bit of energy Sibyl was using to repair Nadia's arm opened it up more and more. Nadia at her best had to strain and focus to make her wavelength match her body, but Sibyl was doing it just as effectively and Nadia didn't have to focus in the slightest. In short, the process felt good. It was restorative in every sense: spiritually, physically, and mentally. It was the type of thing she might have expected a rich prick like Gauss to pay for.

It didn't even take fifteen minutes. The whole process from beginning to end was just eight minutes. Just over half of the projected time. But, once complete, Nadia not only had no more signs of rejection in her arm, it felt even better than the other. It made sense why Sibyl warned them that once she was done, there was danger in feeling too overzealous or acting too quickly.

Dani was a different story, but this is where an awkward, embarrassing exchange both came to light and vastly sped up the process.

Sibyl was able to see that someone else within the group had previously, in a way, injected his life force into Dani. In fact, it happened regularly enough that as it stood, Dani's spiritual pathways were receptive to his energy by sheer means of adaptation. This person, obviously, was Adrian. And, perhaps to the chagrin of Nadia, this was one of the few times were the public ousting of the relationship between Dani and Adrian became a boon. Sibyl could tell it right out the gate upon assessing Dani. The same would have been true of Reiko and her husband or anyone else intimate; bits of their soul, when they truly connected, were changed, even if briefly.

Sibyl called the two out to confirm which itself was a whole delay, but once that was complete, explained that she could use this familiarity to hasten the spiritual repair on Dani.

The process was still similar. Dani had to enter her soul space, but this time, Sibyl would include Adrian in the process. Via means of simple physical touch, Sibyl was able to turn large amounts of Adrian's wavelength into a tool that would flood into Dani and help her repair the damage in far larger swathes at a time. This shaved off hours of work. Sibyl hardly had to adjust Adrian's wavelength at all for it to be compatible with Dani whereas if she was alone using only her own adjusted wavelength, it would have taken far larger with more surgical precision. Admittedly, there was one drawback. Recuperating Dani faster spiritually meant her body and mind would have less time to bounce back, but it was certainly an interesting experience to literally feel the energy of her significant other flow into her.

Adrian was a mix of rebel pride and golden retriever energy. A lot of very contrary traits that somehow came together into the simple, blunt man she had became so fond of. It made so little sense that his wavelength was centered around pain, really. It was a cruel twist of fate.

Nonetheless, the whole surgery for both girls took less than two hours total, though it did leave Adrian quite drained. He did eventually get his energy back, but for the hour or so Sibyl made use of it, he was pale white and a sickly ghost. It would take him some time to bounce back, though he was still arguably in the best shape of the three. Besides, what kind of man wouldn't he be if he couldn't tough it out for her?

"I hope the cave wasn't so bad, since you got to be there surrounded by your beau," Sibyl said. It was a hard read to determine if she was being serious, teasing Dani, or pointing out she didn't believe it was as bad as Dani made out to be.

"You two should be fine. I'd suggest eating a meal, though. You agents tend to forget calories matter when you're fixated in your soul," Sybil told them, addressing the group as a whole. "Steel didn't say what to do once you were done, I think. Unless you intend on dipping out, probably best to touch base with him," Sybil explained.

It wouldn't be hard. Blue Steel had been working with the actual planning stage of their attack. Had Nadia elected to wander off while Dani was being worked on, she would have seen that the more tech savvy members of the group had constructed what appeared like a large rail cannon and were marveling at it. Meanwhile, Blue Steel was trying to get a slot in for a synchronized attack on the KN9, but apparently was having a rough time getting DWMA approval. Mister Prey and the other assortment of group members were still cycling through, pouring their mana into the casting circle he was working on for whatever reason. The basement was large, spanning under multiple buildings, but it wasn't so large one could easily lose a full-grown man.

RedArmyShogun Shotgunpenguin EmperorsChosen

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Feng Long
New York City - Eastward of Coffee Shoppe
September 26th​

Feeling the Fear that Wes had in the near term, no, it would likely be beyond that, it would be one of many traumas and unfortunately, she didn't have the time or ability to deal with that. That wasn't to say she would ignore his plight however, nor not spare him a glance. 'Wes, focus only on what lies ahead, we'll talk about it later and it will all be fine. I've been delt worse before. And, I don't know Aki, but I'm going to tell them, what I want to tell you. I'll hear either of you out, but for now we need to act fast, stay in weapon form till we know it's safe..' She said within the privacy of the sould space they shared upon being in contact with her.

"Good guys and bad guys have nothing to do with it, you took a leg from one, they all want to kill us. I rather not undergo some sort of running man game, rather kill them here and now. But if you both want to play the running game, fine, let's go. Though, why would they be hunting DWMA agents? Some History there? Lead on. But if they come after us and do catch up, I'm killing them all. I'm not as fast as either of you but I do well enough." Feng was rather tired of the whole situation, and if they weren't key to do some urban fighting after being shot, who was she to challenge them? Bloodsuckers or magic users always attracted or generated trouble, well, maybe it was more like they found themselves in troubling situations, but Feng was not allied to these two to have a blood vendetta against the shooters, well, that wasn't strictly true, they had shot her too afterall.

"And best Sniper in the DWMA? Huh, either I know them or I know the man who would take issue with that statement, still, let's talk on the move."

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Aki/Dani) Sir Les Paul (NPC's) Shotgunpenguin (Wes)

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Wes Kraven
Ruined Restaurant, New York
September 26th
Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul ​

---

Fit snugly against Feng’s arm in his weapon form, Wes felt a slight bit calmer than moments before. Lacking blood or extremities that could be removed to access said blood did wonders after watching Crimson drain a human leg like a juice pouch.

'...Sorry.' He offered to both Feng and Aki, although it didn't do much to quell his newfound fear. Considering both of their histories, something like this probably wasn't that bad. But to Wes, hearing a man get killed and then watching as a bloodsucker drained his still warm leg to patch up what would be a fatal injury to anyone else, it wasn't the kind of thing he could just easily forget.

However, despite how bloodsuckers previous display, it seemed like their thirst for blood and conflict was sated for now. Raising the idea of flat out avoiding the remainder of the scavs, and their sniper, Wes wasn’t sure of the idea.

Fang had just killed and mutilated one of the scavs, going as far as ripping their leg off, and that was all without the others being able to fire off a single shot. If they were the type to go after the vulnerable and defenseless, he doubted that such a display wouldn’t have given them pause. The thought brought back the recent feast Crimson had made of the man’s leg, causing Wes to mentally shudder in his weapon form. Money and valuables were only worth something if you lived long enough to spend them. Trying to extract said valuables from someone who was capable of dismembering you without much effort was a very risky and dangerous gamble.

And avoiding them may have been as simple as cutting around them, but that still left the fact that they would be leaving a group of armed and dangerous people to roam the streets. A group that had no qualms about shooting at anyone they thought might be carrying valuables, and had weaponry far beyond what the average person would be capable of defending against. If they just let them be, there was no telling how many civilians could be endangered.

Despite his concern, he found himself thinking that maybe, just possibly, it wasn’t his problem. ‘Why does it have to be you?’ Their job was to try and stop the kaiju, not take care of these scavs or any other criminal they came across. It was just extra work on what was already a pretty shitty time.

‘Those church paladins are doing those patrols. Doubt they’d miss something like this, so why not let them take care of it?’ While he was sure there was some argument to be made about not letting the church score a political victory by ‘subduing a group of dangerous criminals’ over the DWMA, he really honestly couldn’t care. They had more manpower than they did, so if they wanted to try and stop every criminal they came across, they could go right ahead.

‘We should be fast enough.’ He chimed in through their shared soul space, although it was more to assure himself than Fang. He wasn’t as ready or willing to hear another life be snuffed out, especially when he would be attached to the one doing it.

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov
New York City - Coffee Shoppe Basement
September 26th​

With the ordeal being surprisingly, not much of an ordeal per see. Nadia had felt the power coarse through her veins, quite literally in fact. Her arm felt better than it ever had before and she had gained a glimpse of what made the three stars what they were. The lesson, though brief was educational in many senses of the word. Yet there was much more left, though the path of efficiency was an interesting observation, she rather doubted she would have the time to test it out here and now, or in the near term. Untested tactics in a dangerous battle was not the best of ideas.

However, what was to come, displeased her in some way, it even prompted a hint of Jealousy. She had spent a good amount of time with Dani at this point and had a grasp of understanding of her power. But it seemed Adrian understood it more, or maybe it was the bond the pair had shared. Still, it did partly rankle her that he could help, whereas she could not. However, it did little good or served any purpose to hover over her partner, so Nadia time to time would wander off to learn about this new plan and the lack DWMA willingness to authorize their plan, Nadia would return to this situation as soon as Dani was somewhat functional.

And sooner than she expected, she was in fact ready, though not yet ready to go. Explaining those two should have a meal, Nadia herself had expended very little energy to need something, but she would not prevent her two partners from it as Sybil explained to them to see Steel. "Hmm... I've already seen him, but now I can actually talk with him, you two eat or what have you, I'm sure the Doctor can point you where to go. I'll go deal with Steel, unless you two wish to come as well?" She said to Dani and Adrian, relieved this situation was now over.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Dani) Sir Les Paul (Adrian/NPC's)

 

[Meredith]

Chanterelle Dubois

The Tempest's Pull

A witch can only do so much in her attempts to triumph over nature.

Chanterelle’s boots dug into the sand as she came to a sudden stop. With Alicia covering her back and Maria clearing her path, there was a small amount of time to get into a better position, but a retreat to the pier was no longer her goal. She moved to align herself better with the group; Raphael and Ark remained to her forward left. Her face turned to watch the last of Ark’s spikes rain down on the apefish behind her. Hand raising instinctively at her side as she turned, a plume of spores settled over their bodies–

–but they were already so desiccated that she realized her intervention was unnecessary.

The witch struggled to tear her eyes from the sorcerer as his rampage continued. She was in little immediate danger due to her position behind him; there was a sort of feral beauty to the mana rushing haphazardly through his body out into his spells, in the sheer power of their execution, in the secondary rending of the bodies he pierced. All that opposed him fell to form a layer of disjointed gore. To Ark, in that moment, the bloated bodies that had begun to show the rest of them real resistance were truly only fodder.

There was something stunning in the trance-like dance of a mage succumbing to their Pull. Chanterelle knew well what such reckless exaltation could feel like; something from deep within her body–no, her soul–craved the feeling. It was a sensation completely unparalleled by the experience of any drug or poison, but the dissipation of the boundaries between mage and magic was also more dangerous to her than any simple substance could be. A small part of her mind rallied against her, urged her to interrupt him, reminded her of the danger her peers could pose. This part of her spoke in vain. In that moment, pushing down the euphoria bubbling in her chest, she was content in her observation of that volatile beauty.

The truth was that the battlefield had abruptly become something intoxicating. Mana bounced through the air as light in a shattered prism. It was nearly impossible to distinguish source from source, wild mana propagating so quickly and thickly that Chanterelle was almost tempted to reach out and grab it, but the creature nearing the beach was something else entirely. Its power radiated through the chaos like the casting of a lighthouse-beacon through a storming night. The witch was tangentially aware of the agents joining the fray, of the rush of enemies on the beach, and especially of the other spellcasters, but her own inner conflict took precedence to the combat raging around her. She was wholly aware of the energy sparking in the air. Every breath exposed her to more of this wild mana. Every spell cast around her aggravated the desire to allow her magic to reach its full potential.

The light stung her eyes. Her heart beat more quickly. Suppressing her reaction to the Pull had been deemed a critical objective in her education following the events on Dall Island. She’d been taught many exercises to help her do so, but most of them took substantially more focus than she could muster. Simply turning tail–wholly refusing to cast until the urge passed in its entirety–was also not a realistic option. Her positioning had bought her more time, but the urge would not leave her. The situation was only bound to get worse.

Her watering eyes briefly closed.

“I ask only one thing of you. Chanterelle–” The young witch glanced up to the woman standing over her. Azalea had begun to pace during their argument; Chanterelle knew better than to rise before she was dismissed. She’d kept her gaze remarkably straight until her attention was drawn by name. Azalea’s tone was impersonal, but it usually was. She was a woman with little patience for nonsense, and less for affection. This only drove the young witch’s desire for her approval. “–don’t embarrass yourself.”

She held on to this memory, recent as it was. Her magic was everything. It was her body, her blood, her soul. It was the problem, and it was the solution. The realization that these new bodies on the field–these more powerful forms of their escalating enemies–shared her own attributes did nothing to ease that feeling. She did her best to focus on the situation. Don’t embarrass yourself. Her acquiescence could be beautiful, could be revered, and that knowledge ate at her mind. But there were so many reasons to resist. Her pride, her mentour’s approval– the other agents on the beach–

Raphael’s laughter broke her focus. His words sent a surge through her body, though she could not say whether this was fear, or the Pull, or both at once. She hit the ground, rolling out of the way of the first of the salt spears, an unnecessarily large wall of plant matter separating her from the large sea apes before the next could hit. The witch looked around, appraising this new situation. Raphael was exerting an immense amount of mana with the mass manipulation of his chains and, perhaps more importantly, the magic circle at his feet. The way he’d goaded Ark forward could do no good, but he seemed to be weathering the sea monkey’s water attacks. Maria was just… gone. Chanterelle didn’t have time to look for her.

Her fingers dug into the sand. If those fungi could colonize the bodies of the elite warriors–could feed off of their dead flesh, could direct them–she hoped that own magic could affect them too. The flow of mana through her fingertips left her feeling lightheaded, or maybe she was lightheaded anyway; her heart beat rapidly and unevenly in her throat. She could feel the influence of the apefish working against her magic, but she fought against them until her objective was completed. This took too much of her mana, she knew that, but she was still yet in control of herself. Small but puffy mushrooms began to bloom beneath the closest elite from the mycelium sown beneath its feet. These were weak, feeding off the mana beneath them, but once they burst she would be able to judge their efficacy. Instead of the self-replication her mushroom’s spores typically performed, she intended to spread a kind of parasitic fungus that looked much more like a green mould, that could in theory feed off of other fungi.

She didn’t know how effective it would be. The apefish could simply be resistant, or if it realized what was happening, it might be able to halt the mould's growth. The saltwater could kill her creations before they had the chance to grow. None of these considerations crossed her mind. This thing that threatened her friends deserved to rot and suffer.

This casting threatened the turning point of the Pull, but she wasn’t finished. Pushing herself to her feet, the witch moved past her plant wall, making provisions for the growth of several others in front of her that she darted between. Some of them failed to grow at all, but she made up for this with scale. She intended to get close enough to strike out at the apefish as she’d done to the fish with the stakes earlier–

–but no more than halfway to her destination, as she repeated the spell to form another shield past her fortification, a painful jolt passed through her body. The witch had forgotten entirely about the madness inhibitor clasped around her wrist, but she was familiar with the feeling from her training in resisting the Pull. It stopped her in her tracks, and she paused behind her fortification, blinking repeatedly. A second jab in her wrist–arguably more painful, but less all-encompassing than the shot of the pseudo-wavelength from the bracelet–pulled her awareness back to her body. The world was ungodly bright. The edges of her vision shimmered with the mana in the air–or did it just shimmer?–and her fingers looked strange as she examined her hand. Her focus had been almost entirely on her casting, on her target, and she had so easily forgotten herself.

The Pull had come for her, and while the inhibitor had snapped her out of it, shame tore through her very being. A small help was the knowledge that the heavy benzodiazepine injected into her wrist–a formulation modified for use in her body–would help suppress the Pull, her anxiety, and these effects of her blood. It would take at least a few minutes to kick in, even with her heart rate so high, but she tried not to think about that part. The general suppressant for her nitrile blood was of little use in combat, where it would be quickly burned through, so it would only be deployed when her body had substantially calmed. She was going to need it–but, first, they needed to make it through this. She ran through a dozen half-baked ideas as to how to disrupt the Pull in her peers, to stabilize them all, but there were few reliable methods of doing so.

It took a moment for the shame to subside, and for her haphazard reasoning to bear fruit. Her thoughts were moving so fast that they threatened to outrun the good sense chasing behind them. It was simple. If it was a healing wavelength that her inhibitor emulated, it stood to reason that Noah’s healing wavelength would do the same. She hadn’t inquired about the details. Now, she wished she had.

Her fingers, clumsy and clay-like, fumbled for the button to activate her mic. “Gauss.” Her voice was louder and less controlled than she wanted it to be. Maybe it just felt that way. “It’s so much. Ark–all of us–I’m okay, I don’t know, I don’t know about Maria–” a frustrated hiss crackled through the microphone. “The wavelength, Noah’s wavelength. Help them.”

With that, the mic clicked off. She maintained her position, eyes wandering back to the apefish she’d tried to infect, narrowing as she examined it. She was ready to cast–defensively or offensively–but her desire to rush in beside Raphael and Ark had disappeared along with her compulsive drive to spellweave.

The Garden Witch​

Species Witch​

Rank: Fate Agent​

​

Location: The Steel Pier, Atlantic City, NJ.​

Mission: Kaiju Cleanup​

Status: Unbalanced​

​

Merciless Medic The Regal Rper
Peckinou RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul

 

[Pumpkid]

Dante Holiday

Location: Village of the Mountain Gnomes-Liberec Region, Czech Republic

Interactions: The Regal Rper Haze- Merciless Medic Sir Les Paul EmperorsChosen RedArmyShogun​

Betrayal is what Dante felt. Of course this would happen. What was he thinking? It was only the first day. It's as if he made one wrong move and suddenly everyone was against him? Was he that bad of a person, people would just flip a switch on him? Is speaking out and having morals suddenly a crime? What pissed him off more is Kisei placed Sara in an uncomfortable position or rather, he did, but didn’t expect Kisei to be such a whiny baby about it. If he had an issue, he should talk to him, not her. He was the one against Kisei not Sara.

Guilt began to consume him. He didn't mean for this to happen, he didn’t mean to make her cry and even activate her collar. Goodness, he really was a horrible person even if he is trying. Dante grits his teeth at the mention of his past. This slimey jerk is willing to out him? How childish was he? Dante may be stubborn but even he wouldn't dare cross that line. He didn't want pity, nor did he want others to use his past as leverage either. His teeth began to grind, unable to contain his burning rage. He had to. One false move will be the end for him. He cannot afford to lose this opportunity he was given.

This was the reason he chose to be a solo player. He didn't have to deal with anything, or worry about someone. This is exactly what he was afraid of and somehow he receives the same conflict. Is being quiet and keeping to himself the best route to go? Just shut up and do your job and that's it? That was depressing. Been there, done that. It’s an empty feeling and not something he wanted to keep at without motivation. What kind of life is that? In the end, none of this matters because the only one who will suffer in silence is him.

Dante had tuned half of what everyone said already knowing what would be said. He just had to stand there and take it. So he did. He hung his head, shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and waited. This is how he functions. Either he is loud and expressive or shuts down.

Listening to Wren talk about Sara gave him the urge to glance at her but he couldn't. He didn't want to look at her. He already lost and felt unworthy, yet she felt the same when she mentioned her strength out loud. If He was being selfish because it's a habit of his to look out for himself. Relying on someone only gets you hurt or killed and it's something he has to work on. That's why he was there, but right now it seemed like a mess. Of course he doesn't think so, because he expected any kind of blame to be on him not her. They may be a team but that doesn't mean they share the same body or mind. He was his own person. Why is she taking the hit too? Oh right, because he made a mistake. His mistake. In the end, Wren had a point. He could at least try to be better for her. That's the choice he made during training, but he still managed to mess that up.

Lastly, Zosar. He had nothing else to say. He was comforting Sara and agreed with Wren. The only thing he asked was an explanation. It's simple really. He wasn't thinking at all. “I'm not ignoring anyone. I only said Kisei.” Which was a teammate, unfortunately. “What I do, what I say should only be accountable to me, not my meister. I didn't think just because we have a partner it would also apply to them as well. I am not some pet with an owner to be told to sit down. That's degrading to a weapon. My choices are my own, the fact that it counts as both of us is wrong.”

Dante exhales a long sigh. “But it doesn’t matter what I think, does it? You’re going to tell me this is a partnership and everything I do affects the meister too whether I like it or not. So sure, whatever. That's my bad. If you’re asking me if I even care, then the answer is yes. I have my own reasons and problems no one wants to hear and needs to be worked on in the field. It’s not easy to jump back in and expect everything to be dandy. So how can you trust me? Hell if I know.” Whatever comes next Dante will hear it or be punished. He has no idea how to reconcile or make things better because he never had a chance to. It was always walking away and moving on without dealing with any more problems. He just wished he was not led by Kisei. It would have been different.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Kisei☆Hoshi​

Deadsoul​

Species Death Golem
Partner Eloise Keegan
Rank Two-Star

Location The derelict Mansion, Liberec Region, Czech Republic
Mission The Missing of the Giant Mountains
Status Irate

​

Tags: EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper Haze- Merciless Medic Pumpkid

"You're right, but only about one thing," Kisei replied over the shared comms.

Though, not for long. Given that Dante finally seemed receptive, it was likely safe to transform out of his weapon form for the moment. It seemed the entire lot of them had transformed. Hopefully, they would have the common sense to revert if things got dicey or this presented an opening. For the moment, though, it gave Kisei the opportunity to talk to Dante to man-to-man. That trademark red glow of electric energy shot out from Elly's hands and into the lithe form of Kisei beside her.

"It isn't easy to jump back in the field." A statement.

"The first time I tried, I ended up spending a few months on the West Coast doing blow and running drugs to pay for it," Kisei admitted. There wasn't an ounce of shame in him. He owned his past.

"The program is designed to help with that. You go through therapy, you get socialized, even medicated if you need. The resources you have in this program just plain did not exist ten years ago; or, Hell, even three years ago in Paean. By comparison, you got it is easy," Kisei explained, pointing out the faulty logic Dante was providing.

"Your old partner died. This husk of a body I live in is responsible for killing my last one. That's why I went Autonomous so long. I couldn't stand the thought of being in the hands of another when mine were stained red," Kisei continued, essentially making the moment a pissing contest with Dante.

"Yet here I am, in her hands," he said, almost whimsically with a change of his tone.

Another stark change. "While you're whining like a child."

"Yeah, dipshit, everything you do affects your Meister. It affects your whole damn team. That's how it works. Thinking what you do and say shouldn't affect anyone else is some idealistic bullshit that doesn't fly in the real world. Your dumb shit can still get people hurt, killed, or worse. I bet you think it's because you have a partner, but again, excuses. You did the same dumb shit when you were solo and made the same moronic excuse that it shouldn't affect the others," Kisei ranted, intentionally being incredibly demeaning and sarcastic. Theatrical, even. He didn't want to just get this point across, he wanted it to shine.

"There is no outcome where you are an agent and you don't have to care about other people- accountability included. DWMA Agents absolutely must work in teams. The dumbasses that drop out to become mercs are lucky to last a year if they don't join a band. No one can make it in this world alone," asserted, quite aggressively, shifting from sarcasm to a monstrously ruthless blunt truth approach.

"In short, grow the fu—" ck up is what he would have finished with had he not been interrupted.

 

[RedArmyShogun]

The Missing of the Giant Mountains
Investigative Mission
Date: 09/27/67
Location: The Derelict Mansion - Liberec Region - Czech Republic
​

As if on clockwork, no, it very likely was, a pleasant bit of laughter from a girl could be heard, echoing around them a little as a glittering stone shined, and spoke, or rather it played words, followed by, of all things a magical stencil, or rather a hud display of sorts via magic, the source, provided ones with magic detection or a sense of curiosity would reveal two things as the mystical rune inlaid magic worked it's, well, magic.

Firstly, to those who could track magic a series of leylines ran together, connected to what was no doubt a network of runes sigils, that then connected to the bedroom that the Witch was still held up in. The second if one looked at the glow would be a rune plate hidden beneath foliage and gravel. It would be wrong to term what would happen next as speech from her own self, but rather magic used to produce a feedback loop that played out her thoughts for the gathered agents.

"I hate to break up your talk, but as I had to make use of the fields my family constructed to speak with you before and that went poorly, I must say, I do wish to read the fate of your leader, but uh, more importantly, I shall inform you of what happened here and is happening here in exchange for my freedom, I might even be able to talk the two tasked with guarding me out of fighting you. This information is time sensitive and if not act upon quickly, it will have grave consequences for all. The path you are to take, is one fraught with peril, but a reward that can save lives untold. Also, reinforcements are arriving and the next chain is making preparations to leave and then the truth you seek shall remain forever cold... Or so I would like to say, but I can do but so much over this and the other two blood suckers are more likely to kill me than you for even speaking to you and I am to betray my benefactor...."

"Ah, yes, my name is Matilda Ginnever... DWMA Agents, if you wish to speak to me, you need only tap the stone. If you do not, then I shall just leave information, in either case time is running out for a great many people." Said the voice of the Witch, disrupting the current conversation.


Interactions/Mentions: EmperorsChosen (Elly) Sir Les Paul (Kisei) Merciless Medic (Sara) Pumpkid (Dante) The Regal Rper (Zosar) Haze- (Wren)[/scroll]