Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[The Regal Rper]

Ark | Atlanta | Rings: 0/1

When inspiration seized you, you became a mad man.

In a way, he was back in the trenches, not literally but the setting, the scene felt very much like it.

Honestly nothing about this sat quite right, but what did was the execution of the enemy, and that assurance alone was what he focused on.

Arm movements were dramatic and swift. In the moment, martial arts stances, such as the solid southern Chinese style he used to begin most forms of movement when he was channeling magic through his gloves had been abandoned. He didn’t bring his leg up in fluid taekwondo kicks with minimal hand gestures to enact a wave of sand, Ark merely threw his hand up and it happened at will at the cost of more magic than he normally would. The very style he had created for these gloves in line with martial arts that practiced precision and precise strong movements with motion to inscribe the concept of efficient Mana control had been abandoned, and it was showing.

Now, Ark moved in almost what a bystander watching would consider somewhat comical, if only the joke didn't end with holes punched into bodies and the collapse of now hard to discern forms.

They were shredded like how horror movies might display it in a cinema, but this was real, and it didn't phase him even a little at the viscera he was assisting the others create in defense of the remaining innocents.

In fact, the viscera was its own form of inspiration. He was Beethoven weaving art in the dark, Friedrich painting a landscape with every shadows, they were a band of the orchestra of death and their instruments made impacts upon their audience.

In his present state some part of his mind was keenly aware of Maria, Raphael, Gauss, Noah, Arkayis and Chanterelle. The upcoming assist was ignored. He registered them as allies, and so long as that part of his sense remained he would have no reason to turn on them and become their problem next.

He heard what Raph said for instance but his response was automatic, in a disorienting way really in how he replied to it without also totally taking the time to process it.

“We'll see after I rip the next group to pieces.” Was the chilling calm remark, and he did exactly that without ever following up on what his partner had said.

Mana spikes. Lady of the Wind and Puppet rained debris on the enemy.

Beautiful.

The carnage itself was its own beauty that not even JMW Turner could paint with the brightest colors or all of time.

Their actions were acknowledged but as he was now, talking to him as he was would be as effective as talking to someone through a windowless brick wall. Muffled, distant. He was half and half in the Pull at this point, not yet to Dani’s aggression or Adrian’s hostility or the desperation of a wild animal cornered, he didn't mind much of what they did as long as it didn't get in his way or pose a threat to him.

In its own way it was an improvement compared to the raging beast he truly could be without a care for how much magic he used.

Normally, he was careful, even with the large supply he had, he was always careful due to how his magic worked and the level of detail it took to not only sculpt and weaponize various states of stone and earth or sand or alter it. Managing his output right now wasn't all that mattered though. It was indeed partly due to the atmospheric Mana that pulsed around them all, the gem tingled on his forehead, made him feel like he wasn't really losing that much- the pull only helped to cement this idea and the sense he had gained of their larger threat stopping just short of a revelation was…aggravating. Goading.

They merely had to answer.

When the undead marched towards their death, who was he, but an Agent of Magic and Death, to ignore their pleas?

They yearned for an end, trapped in rotting, shambling ambling corpses, their souls locked to the will of their master– power Kidd himself has, power Kidd didn’t use, strength he one day hoped to achieve- and so they would free them, offer a reprieve.

Ifechi reached and the Pull welcomed Ark with the warm embrace of a lover. Made him feel strong, made him embrace the full might of his power.

A hundred arrows of burning fire rose into the air in time with his rising arms and like a pianist possessed, he brought his hands down. Fingers splayed like a pianist would on the downstrokes of multiple keys. Pus, blood, flesh and cries rose, and Ark felt a burning sensation manifest in his chest and surge through his body at their agony and their demise just as he would have had he escalated the battle that led him to FATE in the first place.

He couldn't recall exactly when he had felt this good in a while; this confident, this powerful, almost like his old self. Before the shame, the guilt, the involuntary tensing, the nightmares and what was better, he wasn't targeting his allies this time. It was all on the enemy.

In some morbid way as the Pull dragged him deeper, he saw that as a win. He was doing it, somehow fighting the worst of what he could be. He was focusing on the enemy, restricting himself to the original goal instead of going off script, he wasn't lashing out at everyone and everything that was in his immediate line of sight.

He was almost invincible- pragmatism kept him from truly believing it and falling into total self destruction. What part of him resisted the Pull enough, didn't have him believe he was ready to storm an army by himself– but one day, one day he would have that power.

A hand rose and Ark brought it down, shards upon shards of compact hardened sand from the beach rose and fell at his command, as long as twenty inches, sand shredded bodies and the viscera was mixed in to play it's part as the thorns he would assault with next. He aimed for the newest threats of armored apefish entities and found the more keen intelligence here to be more a genuine annoyance. He didn't even have the ability to totally note the shift in Chanterelle behind them regarding the Apefish of this larger stock and ability.

Even as a group worked to draw Raph and himself in, all Ark did was shift the sand beneath them, raise a wall up against the water as Raph’s chains did their job in deflecting the worst of the spears, he aimed directly for their attackers and with a gun motion, pulled his thumb down.

Spears of sand shot out as a powerful spike of Mana sent sailing forward for each ape. Spears that twisted and hardened and whether through the pull, at their tips, hissed hot with heat.

Mentions: Merciless Medic

Interactions: RedArmyShogun Shotgunpenguin
@Peckinou Sir Les Paul @Meredith

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Eloise Keegan - Zelezny Brod, Czech Republic
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Elly internally sighed, the events which she was trying to avoid occurring transpiring anyway. She didn't even disagree with Kisei's concerns, but she also knew that when he went stern he tended to lose some tact, and when you insulted someone, they scarcely listened to the message around the insult. Especially for someone like Dante. She had to threaten him as well, though she kept it between the both of him to avoid a feeling of ostracization, warranted or not.

And then there was Sara who started to break down. Wren was ticked off. Zosar--Well, he seemed to feel most similarly to herself out of everyone else there. They were easy to read, even without Soul Perception.

Though, Elly had to admit. She was somewhat proud of Kisei's response--at first. She felt as if he started taking after her tactics somewhat. A bit of sternness, a bit of empathy mock or not. It was a good, effective strategy. Especially for someone like Dante who, despite anything he said, wanted connections and to not be alone. However, she could also feel her expression straining as he started throwing out insults again, akin to a nervous passenger in a car pressing down their foot as if it would make the vehicle brake faster.

Thankfully, they were interrupted and Elly could take some of the reins back. Though, the creepy child laughter coming from nowhere was not welcome. She searched for mana, tracing it to the mentioned stone. The girl spoke vaguely, likely as she wanted some kind of assurance that she would be spared in exchange for compliance. It could be a trap, but given what Elly saw of the girl's soul, she found that unlikely.

Elly gave a quick glance to the others, but gave little time for complaint as she tapped the stone. "Be quick about it, if you would. What do you have for us? And who is your benefactor that you are apparently betraying?"

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul Merciless Medic Pumpkid The Regal Rper Haze-

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara Middleton​

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

Sara didn’t like how Kisei spoke to Dante. She would have preferred it if she took the blame instead. She also didn’t think it was necessary to get Zosar and Wren involved. Honestly, she felt like she failed them, especially Zosar. But, Kisei unfortunately had a point. Wren’s words cut like a knife, but it helped cement her into some kind of reality, and yet it was like a sweet cut. Those words helped her realize that Wren felt horrible for her and was upset at the treatment Dante had been having of her.

Honestly, Sara didn’t really see what the matter was, but considering she’s been with assholes for a good portion of her life, it all felt normal. Maybe this was a wake up call.

Zosar’s help was honestly unexpected, and yet the tears that now shed were from relief. The scratching and itching from the very base of her soul subsided slightly as Zosar helped in keeping her from transforming, keeping her from having the strange tickling of some kind of madness. She shakily went up and held his wrist, as if he were her lifeline. Her words were breathless, barely audible. “Thank you…”

She just hoped Dante didn’t hate her for what she had to do. But, when Dante spoke, she met it with mixed emotions. It was clear that he had been solo for a very long time, but it was also clear that his viewpoint was skewed whenever it came to a team. Hell, it affected his previous team members even when he was running as an Autonomous Weapon, if he was running with a team. At least he had some self-awareness to at least bring up what Kisei may say next. But she knew he was frustrated and she felt so bad for him.

Kisei, finally, sounded like he was actually being a bit more sympathetic in his response. However, it changed when Kisei began slinging insults. She groaned, a flare of anger bubbling up. No one would want to see the words beyond the insults. While harsh, he did have a point, but it was starting to annoy her that - while frustrated - he didn’t have the tact to say it better. He was starting to sound less like a mentor and more like a nagging parent.

Thankfully, he got interrupted by some creepy giggling, and the little Witchling speaking from some strange rock thing. So, it seemed that Sara and Elly were correct. But it seemed she wanted to get help as she was held there against her will. Taking this time, she finally took a deep breath, wiped away her tears, gave a grateful smile to Zosar and a pat on his arm, and shakily got up. She stood near Dante and a little in front of him, almost like guarding him. It was an instinctual response. The poor guy had been through enough.

The Witch revealed herself as Matilda Ginnever. Sara let Elly do the talking, her ears swiveling as she tried to pick up anything else around them. If she couldn’t smell through the oil and fuel, she would just have to make do with her intense hearing.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

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

Dani didn't respond well to Sibyl's ousting. While the Demon Weapon had grown considerably less shy about their relationship, the sudden comment still took her by surprise and caused her face to heat up. Internally, she felt everything rock, as if a prelude to an earthquake or cave in before everything calmed. However, apparently this wasn't just to give her shit and actually presented a boon.

Two hours was two hours, or some change, but still. The cave wasn't so bad, like she had said. It was similar to when Nadia's and her soul space merged, except it was Adrian's energy. Point being, she didn't hate it, and she didn't even think to wonder where the 'dog' had gone. It didn't seem to like the mushy stuff.

Dani sat up with a stretch, rotating her arms and pushing off the bed onto her feet. She was still a bit tired and sore, but it was a world of difference not having her soul screaming. "Holy shit, you're a fucking miracle worker," Dani gasped in amazement before her eyes settled on Adrian and she flinched. "F-Fuck me... You're paler than death..."

He head swiveled to Nadia as she suggested they get food while she spoke with Blue Steel. Dani felt that was probably important. "I mean... We probably should go talk to him, but..." Her eyes changed to Adrian. "I think you need food more than I do... Yeah, go talk to the ninja. I'll get him and us some food before we move... which is... where?" She suggested with determination that faded as she realized she didn't know where to get any said nourishment. Sure, Adrian ate not too long ago, but given his current appearance--She figured something was best.

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Aki Kiyoko - North of JFK International Airport

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

'Hm...' Aki hummed in their link as she listened to all involved. The Bloodsuckers wanted to leave the problem be, which was an option now that she thought about it. Aki was less concerned with the men potentially attacking innocents or allied forces than she was about them attacking Feng and Wes.

The two mercenaries were in agreement, as was Wes. Feng thought them better dead at this point, which Aki also didn't disagree with considering they were a liability. Sure, perhaps the Paladins would roam over and deal with them. Perhaps not. It wasn't a guarantee. After all, one group sat down and had lunch with spiky boy and the other group wasted time just to be able to frame them in a poor light. Aki questioned how reliable or competent they were outside of raw power.

Regardless, that was neither here nor here, and Aki could feel Wes straining as he struggled to shut everything out. If he cracked, that was also not good for any of them. He wasn't like they were. She knew that, even if she lacked understanding about a lot of things.

'...Maybe we should call it,' Aki suggested through their link. 'They won't be likely to pursue us or seek us out for revenge. These guys are usually sleazier than sleazy mercs. They won't attack us with a difference in power like this. They'll probably grab what they can and bolt,' She reasoned before a slight gasp escaped her.

'Then again, the sniper wasn't smart enough to change positions...' Aki murmured, instantly derailing her previous point. 'Your call, though, sis.'

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[Sir Les Paul]

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

Firefight West of DWMA Base...​

The situation did not, in fact, turn out to be a game of cat and mouse. Aki was more than right about the scavs. With the dismembering Red Fang performed on one of their squad mates and the large explosion caused by Feng firing Aki, the group had demonstrated enough power that it had successfully persuaded them not to pursue.

Granted, there in truth were more factors at play than an overt show of force. That particular group relied heavily on the element of surprise with its sniper. They were making use of the terrain and patrol patterns they had scouted of the Paladins to abuse these blind spots. Above all else, they didn't possess much of a backup plan when their ambush failed, unless they firmly believed their targets could be finished off by a flurry of bullets or a few grenades.

Needless to say, that the loss of one of their own was an acceptable loss.

This did somewhat slow down progress to the East as it meant the group had to go further North, surprisingly not far from their original drop area, and back down to what was effectively the DWMA encampment. In that time, Crimson revealed that he could not only heal himself, but extended the offer to Feng. Given she was only grazed, such a feat wouldn't require him drain blood from anyone or anything. In fact, what he drained from that thigh was more than enough to sustain him for quite some time. A back and forth exchange that occurred over this time explained quite a bit about how Bloodsuckers worked. Both Crimson and Red Fang seemed to feel obliged or at least more willing to open up to the trio after they agreed to circumvent the scavs.

Who would have guessed that being agreeable made conversation easier?

Nevertheless, blood was a subject of plenty of discussion. It was not just a form of sustenance, though it was exactly that. Bloodsuckers could not sustain themselves on any food (including meat, lest it was literally fresh, raw, and bloody) alone. Blood was necessary. The blood also needed to be relatively viable and not rancid. The thing was, though, that it didn't actually take a lot of blood for a Bloodsucker to coast through life. If a Bloodsucker did absolutely nothing through the day, they could sustain themselves on as little as a cc of blood per day. This did begin to grow the more they used their supernatural powers.

There were problems that the Bloodsuckers complained about. Blood was often separated into white blood cells, red blood cells, platelets, and plasma. Bloodsuckers were mostly interest in the plasma and red blood cells, but every component of blood mattered. Once they were processed, they provided much less nourishment and apparently tasted diluted. Red Fang compared it to stale soda; Crimson said it was more like weak wine. In either case, their feelings were aligned. Whole blood was better, followed only by the fresh stuff. It didn't actually need to be fresh from the vein, but it was better when it wasn't treated or sealed in plastic.

Some problems were more logistic. Blood could be somewhat expensive. Most medical blood bags contained 400 - 500ml of blood. If a Bloodsucker wanted to ration that out, it would go bad before they finished. In recent times with underground blood markets being a thing, smaller bags of just 200ml were on the market, but they would still go rancid if they were nursed. For whatever reason, getting bags much smaller proved problematic. This all neglected the fact that hospital-acquired blood was often bad for a myriad of reasons, or at least stale. Most of the time, Bloodsuckers that wanted to abide by the rules had to get creative. Many, especially in families, would pitch in and split a bag. This avoided it going rancid and cost them less upfront. It hardly helped the solo Bloodsuckers.

Which became a problem because over indulgence was intoxicating. It turned out that powerful Meisters often donated their blood to be sold because it simply tasted better. Feng right this second could probably net anywhere from a couple hundred to a couple grand for donating just a single bag of her blood. It didn't end there, though. Witches did the same damn thing for an even higher price. The problem again was that it was intoxicating on the verge of addicting. Lastly, there was an odd overlap, with Demon Weapons. It turned out that their blood was a favorite, if they were powerful. Death Scythes in specific. They had the refined flavor of a powerful Meister, but also the kick of a Witch without the overbearing mind alteration that came with it.

If not for how Wes felt after seeing Crimson de-sanguinate a leg, Red Fang's joke about how he probably could have picked up Rosé might have landed better.

Point being, for the remainder of their trip, Red Fang and Crimson tried to be quite conversational and cordial. Crimson tried to give the group insight to Bloodsuckers and their day-to-day life. To paint them and their struggles in a light that wasn't just their monstrous nature. Red Fang wasn't quite as on the nose. He spent more time going over their history. Apparently, the core members of Fox Hunt were actually several centuries old, most from the British Isles. He didn't specify where, but Red Fang went over the history of the area as if he had been there.

Because he was.

Feng, Aki, and Wes would have been given plenty of opportunities to share anything they wanted to about themselves, if they elected to. Crimson was obviously more of the diplomat. Educated and refined, more capable in the realm of magic. Bloodsucker magic was a unique thing. He didn't quite explain how it worked, but apparently, Bloodsuckers drew mana from blood itself, not ambient mana in the environment. That meant there was a secondary benefit from a Bloodsucker drinking the Blood of a Witch if said Bloodsucker was low on mana. Red Fang didn't give much of a damn about that, being more gruff and grounded in reality. They made for quite the contrasted duo to a nearly comical extent.

The trip could have either been pleasant or madly uncomfortable. It would really have depended on how well the group hit it off. There was an undertone of just how much members of Fox Hunt wanted to shirk the poor image of their race, but Crimson and Red Fang managed to be fairly smooth in their conversational skills. For all Crimson tried to teach, he did prove to relay information a lot better than some professors at the DWMA. Red Fang seemed like he could easily be the life of the party if let loose. Then of course there was the chance to receive minor healing and the not-so-subtle jokes Red Fang made.

What the trio took from it was up to them.

The trip was at its end. Red Fang dipped off knowing his concealment couldn't pass by the next check point and Crimson escorted the trio right up to it. It was a parking lot reinforced with a few military vehicles. The JFK Airtrain Operations and Maintenance facility. It had been converted into an impromptu relay station for supplies and DWMA Check point. One where the group was greeted by familiar faces.

Rudeus and Noelle, two agents the group had met on Hawaii, stood further back on the concrete slabs that dotted the ends of parking rows in the lot. Rudeus being a shorter gentlemen with dirty blonde hair. Noelle was one of the most ludicrous Demon Weapons one had ever seen in the form of a vacuum cleaner until one learned she could literally absorb magic and mana. Those two weren't the stars of the show, though.

No, that award went to one man: Chimera.

His presence even now was not one that could be ignored. His soul burned bright. He took no efforts to restrain it, not like Samuel Smith with a true Strong Soul. Kenny liked others to feel the power. More so, it worked as a fairly effective shock and awe tactic to those unaware of it. In that regard, if anything, Kenny much resembled the Paladin that the trio just had a run with. The difference was that Kenny was just one man. That Paladin took a hundred men to match his illumination. Benefit here, though, was that he was a hard man and a hard soul to forget. He was a known ally.

"Well... if it isn't the oriental beauty with the azure eyes and her partner with a soul that matches mine..." Kenny spouted, approaching the four as they entered the parking lot. He, too, was approaching. His own demon weapon in hand, a bright, teal Scythe. Despite being armed and despite the intensity of his soul, he was also gifted with that Healing Wavelength and a natural charisma that prevented him from being terribly offensive. The man could damn-near walk up to you with the dagger for your back still get away with offering a hug.

"Mm, I don't know this other fellow, though; and, I don't recall your other weapon...." Kenny admitted, shifting from being somewhat flirtatious to serious rather quickly, though his lighthearted tone kept down any hostilities.

"Also, my dear, you're missing about half your team and, well, that certainly bode well, does it?" he continued, pointing out the obvious with his theatrical phrasing. "Care to explain?" he proposed, halting his approach and tilting his head over with a slight furrowing of the brow. Everything this man did was emphatic. He shared that same trait with most of the other dual-colored freaks in the program. It seemed all of them had a flair for histrionics.

---

The Coffee Shoppe Basement...​

"You may want to watch your wording," Adrian interjected, groggily pointing out the exclamation Dani had made, "since the doctor outed us, people might get the wrong idea."

Adrian was, in fact, a little loopy. His current status was not terribly unlike the time he was convinced to take a swig of vodka. For all of his physical capability, he was an absolute lightweight. That said, he wasn't entirely out of it. His mind was just a little fuzzy with some impaired inhibitions.

"Well," chimed in another voice. It radiated from the woman that had left once Blue Steel approached Sibyl earlier, "one of the buildings this basement connects to is an internet café I'm sure you could commandeer some of their furniture if you must," she continued, teasing the two. Or, more aptly, teasing Dani. Adrian was somewhat immune to these wicked ways at the moment, if only because they went right over his head.

"Otherwise... if you follow me, there is a makeshift kitchen back here for us mere mortals," she told them, waving them on back beyond the information station salon style chair Sibyl had just performed her surgery in. She, by the way, had quickly returned to the computer screens, cycling through CCTV feeds and reading messages from the other group. Red Fang and Crimson were already on their way back at this time after having successfully dropped off the other trio.

What they didn't tell Feng or the others is that they intended to stealth into the sniper's den to kill them on their way back. Not that they didn't believe the trio could be useful, but that with the help of Sibyl, her drones, and the CCTV, they could kill them faster alone via their own ambush. It just took some time to reset the situation for the element of surprise. Besides, where was the fun in sneaking up behind someone and slitting their throat? The fight would be over in an instant.

The kitchen area wasn't much, but it was there. The brown-red haired woman already had something simmering on the stove. Two things, actually. What looked like a giant pot of elbow noodles and from the smell, some type of melty cheese soup. She was making macaroni and cheese. She was genuinely just throwing together mac and cheese while fighting a Kaiju.

"Not all of us are Bloodsuckers, by the way. Some of them forget we need to eat, too," she said, almost sarcastically.

She then looked back to Dani, a quick side-eye. "I go by Erin," she stated. Then, a quick stir of the pot and it seemed she shifted over to a flat can of chicken. The type she had to peel the steel lid off of. Not the most appetizing, but she was able to drain it and throw it in a third burner to start cooking off some of the excess water. The room might have smelled of chicken, but the food looked like it had some improvement. Only made better by the fact she seemed to have some semblance of how to cook when she started peppering in random spices.

Meanwhile, Nadia was in for a slightly different atmosphere once she approached Blue Steel. He was on what looked like a sat phone given how bulky it was, but not for terribly long. With a long sigh, he shut it off, then slammed it down, only to exclaim, "These racist, cock-blocking bastards. Fucking useless DMWA good-for-noth--"

That ended the moment Nadia was in sight. His face relaxed and he dialed himself back in. He then shot her a guilty smile.

"What's up?" he asked, not sure how to salvage the situation.

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