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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SeventhMovement|Seventh Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT ADanceOfAngels |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == The Hunt for Fiona ==
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| − | They take their very first steps into the neighborhood... walking over rubble and broken buidings, ground unsteady under their feet... and the scent of death all around them. This used to be Arina's Lake, a lake within Spire, and the community around it... The lake is now half buried somewhere to the North, with all the buildings fallen in it probably making lake-water-corals.
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| − | They thread lightly, Seventh Moon, Alexander Holysword, Kanti, the Child of Wild Days, Iselsis, and Leonas du Mislav, who looks at it, scratching his chin... "... makes me think, really. They had a plan to catch the people on the Boil. They had a plan to catch us unware and kill Valencia... "
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| − | "...had a plan for even if the General was stopped, with that beasts and whatever was coming out of here. We outsmarted them at every turn, but how many more layers did they have...?" Leonasshakes his head. "So, Iselsis, you said you found something on the book?"
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "There's always another layer. There's always another loop in the knot. There's always another pebble in your shoe."
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| − | Snow Monkey walks alot with the group, tail lazily swaying and making the rear half of his long loincloth shift. He seems... amused, perhaps even a bit bored, but nonetheless is tagging along, occasionally tapping at the flexible staff wrapped around his shoulder.
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| − | "This is a constant everywhere. Since, after all, they're trying to kill you all. Thankfully, the dead things probably know little about me, so I have an out or two." He grins, chuckling faintly.
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| − | '''Iselsis: ''' She offers the book to him, thumb keeping the pages open where it reads about the cat god and cat behemoths and cat spirits and all that jaz, figuring it's easier to let him read it for himself rather than explaining.
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| − | "This is what we're dealing with."
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| − | "I found something, though it's not in the book. It's rather the parts of the books it took to hide what it was and to stop anyone from exorcizing it effectively."
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| − | | |
| − | She pauses for a moment. "What we're dealing with is what's called a Virdynn. That's a type of feline spirit made of dead spirits in a behemoth vessel, working as a kind of lesser trickster godlings. When they possess something the transformation results in what Kanti saw in the library."
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| − | "I can remove it, if you can get it to '''hold still'''."
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| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "I'm gettin' kinda fuckin' tired'a gettin' jumped all the time..." Moon growled softly, a step ahead of the others as he peered warily through the ruins. He paused and hunched low to the ground to check the trail again, propped on his finger tips as he sniffed at the shattered buildings, sifting through the scent of death and murder-spirit for the transformed Solar's odor. "Seems like we ain't never the ones catchin' them off guard, just fuckin' scramblin' back ta our feet faster 'n they can."
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| − | | |
| − | Raising back to his feet, he dusted off his hands and moved on.
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| − | | |
| − | "Ain't no fuckin' way ta win a brawl..." he concluded.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Well, I suppose I could give her a good crack on the back of the neck or grab her. Would that suffice, huntress?" Days looks Ise's way, still smirking like a cat post-creamstealing.
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| − | '''Iselsis: ''' "Just try not to hurt her too much."
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| − | She glances at Moon. "I agree. They keep getting us on the defensive. That's not going to work in the long term. We need to start being a little bit more proactive about things."
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| − | '''Leonas Du Mistlav: ''' "Fascinating..." He replies to Iselsis... "I... think I heard of them once. Had no idea they were so... intrincate. Will be very interesting to meet them, I think. Even if they are trying to tear our lungs." He walks, sidestepping a hole on the ground leading to a little piece of sewerr littered with corpses. "And yes, Seventh Moon; As long as we are dealing with their stratagems, we are on the defensive - and as long as we struggle to keep our own guard up, we cannot lash back. Which is why I wonder... just how many layers they placed on it? Is this an isolated incident?"
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| − |
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Bah, I can control mysel!"
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| − | Days actually pouts a little at Ise. "I am a master of the fist, to such a degree that even the mightiest of Creation's own could stand to learn from me! I know how to properly apply my might, friend huntress. So have a little faith... besides, Fiona's too adorable to hurt."
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| − | '''Alexander: ''' "We just need to get Fiona back... we need to keep everyone safe." He replies, not in the least thrilled by the strange feline creatures like Leonas is. He had seen one of them before, in Spire. It had been a cute trickster following him around and wanting him to give it food, then. "After people are safe, we can worry about killing them."
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| − |
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| − | '''Iselsis: ''' "You have several assassins in your circle, prince. Maybe you ought to consider making use of their talents."
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| − | '''Narrator: ''' The scent of sentries. Ghosts, with the scent of natural weapons... ghosts moliated their bodies, burning them, blackened like burnt wax.... it was a scent not unlike the characteristic one of steel, or iron. Just much, much more disturbing. The of burning ghost-flame on their weapons, as they lay waiting. around the corner, as lanterns to spirits, invisible to the living...
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| − |
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| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Moon didn't miss a step as the new scent slapped him across the face. But the step he took was backwards, not forwards and his arms stretched out to slow the others as he came abreast of Iselsis and Alex.
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| − | "Dead fucker's 'round the corner." he said, his voice dropping low. "Keep talkin'. Keep makin' noise, just walk slow..."
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| − | | |
| − | There was a sound like a short, stiff breeze whipping through cloth and for an instant the air around the Lunar's face thrust forward into a silvery canine mask. As the image faded, the overlay of it's eyes remained above his own, cold and bright. Seeing and sensing into the intangible world as much as the real one now, Moon looked around them again, gaze piercing the shadows that this place cast about itself for the tell-tale haze of a ghostly figure or the dry, neutral scent of an undead spirit that might be keeping lookout on them...
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| − | | |
| − | '''Iselsis: ''' And of course she does as moon says, she'd already been one foot inside, one foot outside the spirit realm the entire time herself, so had very little real preperation to do. She didn't even take out her guns, yet.
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| − | "After all", she continues talking to Alexander, "it's not like mass combat like we had in the battle against the General is everyone's forte."
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| − | '''Kanti: ''' "...The dead?" she speaks softly, enancting the Walker Amongst Irises Perception, casting her eyes about her, irises blooming from her feet as she treads now.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Well, then." Days... grins. Oh, does he grin. "Let's get right to it."
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| − | '''Alexander: ''' "Alright..." He whispers in return, walking normally... "Yes, but... I did it with the Dark Angel."
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| − | "And we had them at our throats then. I sent her to gather information, and then... she tried to call everyone to her trail."
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| − | | |
| − | * Leonas Du Mistlav makes a gesture and crystals appear on his hand, shining green crystals, pulsing in waiting...
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| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Dark Angel's a fine lady," Moon said, adding his part to the conversation just to keep the sound up. To keep them sounding causal an unaware. "She ain't big on skulkin' 'round though. Ain't her style most the time."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Narrator: ''' And as they pass a corner, they see them, at each side... fully-armed, fully-armored, Bishop crusaders.
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| − | Standing in wait, great black corpus-blades at the end of their mutilated arms, something like a great tail coming from atop their spine and pointing straight up, shining the color of pyre-flame, their lamps...
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| − | '''Kanti: ''' Kanti enacts certain other charms as she walks, lights and scriptures sparkling around her as she assumes the form of the Spear Saint, palms wide open in supplication, allowing her to focus and cease her worries for Fiona, the viridian light of the cycle of life flowing over her then vanishing.
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| − | '''Alexander: ''' "You did good, mind. Saved Kanti, managed to take out the Parishioner, freed the Boil with what was a two-man team..." He tries to show how thankful he is for it. What he was. They did exceed expectations, but... "You know. It was great, but I am not sure who should I send into enemy territory next... it was great, but it was a close call."
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| − | '''Iselsis: ''' "I'm big on skulking around. It's what I was trained for and I really haven't got to do it yet."
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Finally!" Monkey laughs, and Owl and Serpent whips into his hands like a hungry snake, straightening out a moment later. With a breath, he exhales, and four points of iridescent light leap into being... forehead, chest, navel, groin. They quickly swirl around his person, ready for use. "For a moment I was thinking this would be dull."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Moon stopped, turning his back deliberately on the wall of dead soldiers waiting for them, and gave the prince a broad, feral grin. "Kid, it's always a fuckin' close call."
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| − | '''Alexander: ''' "Story of my life, too." He fills with burning white flames, smiling to Moon's grin.
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| − | | |
| − | Always a close call, but this was a change of pace.
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| − | | |
| − | And then he moved around fully on his feet, twisting herself to give his blade momentum, "''Now! '' Before they can call on anyone!"
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| − |
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| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Moon stopped, turning his back deliberately on the wall of dead soldiers waiting for them, and gave the prince a broad, feral grin.
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| − | "Kid," he said, putting both hands on Alex's shoulders. "It's always a fuckin' close call."
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| − | | |
| − | ... and Moon's feet come up. .
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| − | | |
| − | ''Tired'a ya fuckin' bullshit... ''
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| − | He gives Alex an almost apologetic glance as he grips the prince's shoulder's tight and swings his booted feet up onto Alex's armored chest, bracing for a split second as the caste-mark on his brow flares to life and Essence pounds through his body. Then he pushes off, throwing himself into the air, his back to the earth as he sails upwards towards the shattered wall the dead had hide behind.
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| − | ''Tired'a ya dead fucker's poppin' outta thin air ta fuck 'round with us... ''
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| − | He skims across the top of the wall, one hand reaching out to snag the edge. Gauntleted fingers crunch into the rock as his body flips, feet swinging up above his head, poised on one hand until the second joins it. Essence moves with a throaty snarl, roiling off his hands and pouring between the stones of the wall bellow him, painting silvery graffiti of snarling hounds face, it's cold shadow falling over the dead. His legs come swinging down.
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| − | | |
| − | ''Tired'a ya shitballs hurtin' people... ''
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| − | The entire wall shakes as his feet slam into it. Shivers, shakes, and crumbles apart; raining rock and dust down upon the dead... and dropping the net of Essence he wove into the wall across them, sagging and pinning them to the earth where they could not escape so easily.
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| − | Moon road a chuck of stone down the landslide of debris, leaping clear again as it all came smashing into the earth.
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| − | ''Our turn now, fuckers. ''
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| − | '''Iselsis:''' Her form seems to blur and stretch, as she seems to almost teleport dive around the corner and into the streets guarded by the, as Moon likes to call them, 'dead fuckers'. Of course, she was only moving fast like she always likes to, and as she comes out of the movement, tilted to the left in mid air, she flashes the deaders a devilish grin.
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| − | And the next thing they would see would be two repeater pistols somehow finding their way into her outstretched hands, and the fire coming from the barrel, firing at the row of dead as she flung herself sideways. Then, when she touches the ground she rolls to the side, and landing in a perfect crouch, guns still aimed at whatever remained.
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| − | | |
| − | As the wall comes down on one line of the deaders, Ise is right there to fuck up the ones on the other side.
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| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "So it has begun. And I will be certain to do my part to end it... but not as I am." Snow Monkey grins... and throws his staff high into the air, before slamming both palms down onto the ground. The air twists and bends around him, and he begins to growl, deep and low, as his eyes shimmer and strands of gossamer net themselves around his being. As the cocoon quickly closes in on him, he utters one last comment.
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| − | "Victorious Monkey... this fight is yours. Enjoy it." The glistening orb closes fully, and pulses once. Twice. Three times... and explodes in a wash of glittering dust and smoke, leaving behind... a towering, thickly-furred monstrosity that catches the descending staff and extends it to its full length. At least fifteen feet tall, the sasquatch-like terror shakes itself, blood flying from its white fur and spattering everywhere. And then... it laughs, loudly and with a voice like metal slicing live flesh.
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| − | '''Victorious Monkey: ''' "... let the battle begin! Glory to the brave!"
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| − | Victorious Monkey stands ready, watching for what is to come.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Narrator: ''' The weight of flesh.<br>
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| − | The feel of the living world.<br>
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| − | The vulnerable weight of having a form.
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| − | | |
| − | Suddenly, all that is impressed upon the crusaders, as Moon's net, drags them to reality....
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| − |
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| − | '''Kanti: ''' Kanti makes an arcane gesture in the air and with a waft of soothing, calming scent the Fragrant Incense Spear appears in her hands, hardwood shaft sitting firmly in her grip.
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| − | And then she moves the first steps of her dance, each footstep timed to the beat dictated by the guns in Iselsis' hands, each footstep bringing with it a flash of flame that blossoms into a perfect white iris, each footstep taking her closer to the dead.
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| − | The staccato beat of the guns stops, and then Kanti flickers like the flames she embodies and suddenly she is amongst the ghosts left once the gunfire is settled and her spear moves in precise arcs, stabbing and sweeping as she trades dance partners amongst the ghosts and the flames.
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| − | '''Alexander: ''' Burning white.
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| − | As he turns, the Prince lets out Ainerach, white motes trailing behind the golden blade... and striking at one of the enfleshed, burning like the wrath of heaven.
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| − |
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| − | '''Leonas Du Mistlav: ''' Green crystals explode on his hand as Leonas finishes his murmur... an incantation that explodes with two blades of frozen emerald essence on his hands, trailing unbound, burning essence. "... I will say this much, you all move fast."
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| − | And the boy was impressive, the same sort of power as his marshal Silverstar...
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| − | That commanded his respect almost subconsciously by this point.
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| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' She comes for them, and while they try to parry the bullets, they do not see her. Amidst the smoke, the spear strikes at them, sending the first to lethe in a flare of viridian light. He does not feel pain, just... looks at her... his flames ceasing... his lantern dark... and just like that... not even understanding what happened... he is gone. And all others feel the light, eating away at them, but no pain.
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| − | And pehaps it was more terrible for it.
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| − | Without a word, they act in unison - five blades covered with burning pyre-flame come at Kanti, intending to slice, to burn, to end.
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| − | And at the other side, the six feel the weight of flesh.<br>
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| − | It was not just flesh. It was their own.<br>
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| − | Whatever the Lunar had done... he took their own power to give them flesh. They felt... drained.
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| − | There is another silent understanding. Three point up, towards the Lunar, and their blades gain more... corpus. Consistence. Becoming like serpents... serpents that spit a dillutted pye flame on Moon... while the other three cover their blades with the same dillutted Pyre-Flame, jumping at Days...
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| − | '''Victorious Monkey: ''' "... you know not what you're dealing with, dead scum."
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| − | His staff, held in both massive hands, is a blur of motion... intercepting the attacks at they come in towards him. His mouth is unseen, but his eyes shine, reflecting in them a shattered Boil, the rotting flesh of his allies... and fait puffs of dust where the ghosts would normally be.
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| − | "Begone from this place! Die a second time, and give glory to my Sword!"
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| − |
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| − | '''Kanti: ''' And before them they do not see a terror.<br>
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| − | And before them they do not see a fiend.<br>
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| − | And before them they do not see a demon.<bR>
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| − | Before them they see a girl.<br>
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| − | Before them they see a Saint.<br>
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| − | Before them they see innocence.
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| − | The innocence calls to the heavens.<br>
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| − | The innocence calls to the skies.<br>
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| − | The innocence calls to the earth.
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| − | The innocence calls and the earth bears witness.<br>
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| − | The innocence calls and the strikes falter.<br>
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| − | The innocence calls and the innocent is protected.
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| − |
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| − | '''Iselsis: ''' She sees them coming at Moon, and sees that the big lunk isn't capable of defending himself.
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| − | | |
| − | She thought of that day she protected Faina from a rain of arrows. She was tired of people hurting the few people she cared about, hurting her friends, her family, her loved ones.
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| − | A rage wells up inside her and the winds of shadow rise from her. Almost instinctively she channels her birthright as a dragonblooded in the direction of the fire roiling towards moon, pulling back her palms before jutting them forwards, sending the winds roiling into the side of attacks, blowing them away, dissipating them.
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| − | "''Bastards! ''", is all she manages to shout at them over the fury of the winds that suddenly envelop the devil girl.
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| − | '''Victorious Monkey: ''' There is a momentary pause as the dead-telling eyes of Victorious Monkey look at the three that dared attack him. He chuckles, and the air grows still.
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| − | Somewhere, deep within the Wyld of Days' Heart, a single note is played on the strings of a viola.
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| − | The following action is swift, terrifying and stained with white and bronze and droplets of crimson, the screeching head of the warstaff in his hands lashing outward in a full circle, enough force behind it to ruffle clothes and tousle hair...
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| − | | |
| − | ... while the line of attack traced well above his allies' heads fares far less better, an inch-thich furrow carved into the walls of nearby buildings, generating a broken circle of dust and debris.
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| − | "I am Victorious Monkey. I am raksha. And you, dead ones, are fodder."
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| − | | |
| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' The overwhelming force of the staff comes crashing down... and sends them to the buildings, breaking everything on their wake. One of them begins to fade, holding to his corpus just barely, but the other two can get up without that much of a trouble... but hurt. They are all ''hurt. ''
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| − | | |
| − | '''Kanti: ''' The saint stood amongst the burning blades and was unharmed.<bR>
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| − | The saint stood amongst the burning blades and was<br>
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| − | unbowed.<br>
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| − | The saint stood amongst the burning blades ... and then she was standing no more, the spear in her hands twisting and flashing through the complex katas of her style, legs wheeling and arms guiding as she flows amongst the ghosts, trailing fragrant scents behind her as she strikes this way and that with the spear.
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| − | | |
| − | And then the saint is still once more.
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| − | | |
| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' And as she dances, the viridian light touches four.... and they are no more.
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| − | | |
| − | And before both red dragonesses, just one remains...
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| − | '''Iselsis: ''' Her hand lifts her gun towards the last one. One last target to focus her fury on.
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| − | | |
| − | She doesn't say anything, doesn't move. Only her trigger finger, just an inch, all it takes. The shadowy winds coalesce around the barrel of her pistol and the shot is propelled by it, the sound of the shot much louder than it should be; than it was before.
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| − | ''Die. ''
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| − |
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| − | The creature parries her bullet. Fragments and fire fly just an inch from it, whizzing around its head and landing behind it.
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| − | | |
| − | The shadow that cradles the demon girl, eyes obscured by the rim of her hat, creeps further over her.
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| − | | |
| − | ''Die. ''
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| − | | |
| − | Step. Squeeze the trigger.
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| − | | |
| − | Nowhere for it to run or hide as the devil girl's onslaught relentlessly comes for it.
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| − | | |
| − | ''Die! ''
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| − | | |
| − | Step again. Squeeze the trigger again.
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| − | | |
| − | The winds around her flare up in all their magnificence, the demonic dragon comes out of the shadow, and screeches it's fury at the thing like a banshee, the surface of the street tearing itself apart, chunks of rock, stone and debris floating up and caught in the wake of the violent winds.
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| − | | |
| − | ''DIE! ''
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| − | | |
| − | Step again. Squeeze the trigger.
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| − | | |
| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' The bullets come, one after the other, no matter how much he tries to defend... piercing, burning...
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| − | | |
| − | Making him scream, and scream....
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| − | | |
| − | He would be trying to get away. They had to just go through them to go warn their leaders...
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| − | | |
| − | But no good...
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| − | | |
| − | Without being able to take one step away, he burns to death.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' When would he learn? Moon would try to remember to thank Red later. And make sure Selina didn't find out he'd almost gotten himself killed. Again.
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| − | Fuck it. He'd worry about it later. Maybe. At least the gambit had paid off for once. The way cleared by Iselsis' blasts, Moon lunges off the wall at the nearest ghost. A fist pulled back to telegraph the blow keeps the attention away from his legs until his boot swings out and crams itself up between it's legs. And as it's body jerks up off the ground for a moment, the muscle on his arm ripples as a pulse of Essence travels from shoulder to fist. He throws in with a jab that crushes into it's face, the air cracking like a whip as the ghost careens away from the Lunar.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Narrator: ''' As Moon punches the War Ghost, it breaks all of the Pyre-Flam receptacles within him, and he begins to burn, screaming as he falls to the ground, his corpus unmade in immaterial flame...
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| − | | |
| − | And the Prince picks his golden blade back, gallant, but angry. The man had just cast aside Ainerach. As if it was nothing.
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| − | That rankled.
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| − | With a low growl, he rushes foward, striking against one of those that Days hit, that was getting out from the wall... and letting the white flames trail from him, burning the ghost to nothingness...
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| − | | |
| − | While Leonas, holding the twin Spirit Blades of Frozen Emerald rushes foward, blades burning, towards another one of those Days had left mostly intact, the blades burning him with pure, wild essence...
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| − |
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| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' They strike, and three of theirs' die. On the other side, six ceased to exist at Kanti's hands.
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| − | | |
| − | And then, they do what they can...<br>
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| − | They '''run'''! As far away as they can, the last three survivors....
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| − | | |
| − | Until they stop, dead on their tracks, held by the net cast by the Lunar...
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| − | | |
| − | And shiver.
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| − |
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| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' ''Don't fuckin' rush in... ''
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| − | He had to remind himself more than once as he saw the three ghosts start to run. They didn't make it very far. Part him wanted to give chase, to leap among them and start hitting until they stopped moving. But they weren't here for these fuckers. They were here for Fiona. Or whatever the hell she'd become. It was time to get some answers.
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| − | | |
| − | Moon turned around and, unhurriedly, walked back towards the others. Behind him, the ghosts slid across the ground as the inescapable web of Essence cast over them pulled them along behind him with or without their consent. He dragged the helpless ghosts along until they stood nearly dead center in a circle of irritated and angry Exalts, then finally stopped and turned around, folding his hands over his chest, pale eyes seering out from bellow his brow.
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| − | | |
| − | "A'ite fuckers. Got two choices. Give ya a guess on what they are..." Essence flashed around his gauntleted hand, a gleaming imprint of a snarling hounds faces burnt into the air about each. A hungry power, a god-eating power even the dead knew to fear. The dead weren't gods, however much they wanted to pretend they were, but to the hound they were good enough to snack on.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Victorious Monkey: ''' This little development makes the very ready-to-rumble Victorious Monkey blink... and then grumble heavily as it seems that a complete battle will not happen today. His fur bristles a touch, but no other outward signs of irritation are evident.
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| − | | |
| − | "Beh..."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' The prince looks up... and up.... "Days... what part of 'trying to get them before they warn someone' didn't you catch?"
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| − | | |
| − | "At that size, you probably warned them all... can you, like... sit?"
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| − | | |
| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' The ghosts look at Moon... and try to step away. Caught on the net, they realise that is impossible.
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| − | | |
| − | "Y... yes?" The one on the left asks. "What do you want...?"
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Where the fuck is she?" he asked, throat rumbling with soft, impatient menace as he waited for his answer.
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| − | | |
| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' "S... she?" The same left-most asks. The other two, center and right, watch him with venom on their eyes.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Victorious Monkey: '''Monkey snaps his fingers, and the shell dissipates, falling away like scales and dust before vanishing into nothing.
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| − | | |
| − | There is, then, only the Child of Wyld Days...
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| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' ... and he looks a tad sheepish.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "My apologies. Perhaps I pushed a bit too hard..."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "What was that? Too excited to use that trick?" The prince thinks, that might be nice...
| |
| − | | |
| − | He needed his own tricks.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Ya fuckin' ''know'' who I'm talkin' about." Moon told the ghost, his tone brooking no argument. He kept his eyes focused on the left-most of the trio, the coward among them apparently. Or the smartest, depending on how you looked at it. His gaze bore down on the war ghost like a winter's night, unyieldingly cold. "Ya fuckers didn't just happen ta be standin' 'round here on the off chance we might be swingin' by for a fuckin' picnic. Now, tell us where the fuck she is before I let the monkey start askin' the questions."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Ah, a little technique I picked up in the Wyld. Letting a bit of my Sword out to help with battle... it's hell on my personal resources, but I had expected the worst, so." He shrugs, lightly, then watches Moon grill the ghosts with an amused air.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Kanti: ''' Kanti walks over to the Prince, ending up on the far side of him to the snow monkey, silently watching the ghosts, serene in the Infinite Radiance Form, ready to send them on...
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| − | | |
| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' "T... the Virdynn-taken? The one who stole the books...?" The Ghost asks, trying not to look at the others...
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| − | | |
| − | "She... she's on the church..."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Moon nodded once, then took his eyes off the helpless war ghost and turned to his companions.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Somebody wanna go ahead 'n kill the other two?" he asked in a casual tone, head cocking carelessly to the side. "They ain't much use."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Kanti: ''' Kanti moves then, in a perfect flowing series of motions, the Fragrant Incense Spear spinning and twisting in her hands, leaving incense trails behind it and then two halos of brilliant, viridean light as the war ghosts of the Bishop go back into the cycle and to whatever destiny their karma gave them.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''War Ghosts: ''' "Graaaah!" Before Kanti strikes the middle one, he manages to strike the lantern of the left-most one, who screams, consume by the spilling flame within his body much as Kanti strikes him, and calmly, the Viridian light takes him to the cycle of reincarnation....
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Well, that's that." Snow Monkey watches on with an almost bored look, arms folded and eyes lidded a bit. Perhaps a bit of Victorious Monkey lives on, and would have rather preferred a more eventuful victory...
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "... bastards." The Prince shakes his head. "Still got the scent, at least?"
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| − | | |
| − | '''Leonas Du Mistlav: ''' "My, what they wouldn't do for their devotion...."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "Aw shit," Moon growled as the third ghost suddenly ignited in a wave of fire. "Wanted ta keep that one 'round a bit longer. Ain't often you bumped into any that would talk, beyond say shit like "Now you die" or "For the Bishop" or "Darkness will take you and rend you and consume you and blah-blah-blah."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He was not, however, too upset over it. He'd have just killed the little bastard when the church turned out to be yet another ambush anyway. "Yeah, thats that..." he agreed with the raksha, then answered the prince by stooping low to the ground and inhailing deep. The scents around here were a bit more confused than back that the manse, but Fiona's had become to distinct to really hide. Like perfume in a shithouse. Or a cat in a doghouse, at any rate. His nose wrinkled as he tracked the scent down again.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Still got it, yeah." he said, turning his gaze down the street ahead of them. He raised his hand, pointing the way. "That way."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Raising, he dusted off the knees of his pants. "But if it does go ta some fuckin' creepy ass old church, I ain't gonna be first one through the front door. Someone can get jumped for once"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Alexander: ''' "Days would love to, right?"
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| − | | |
| − | "Aren't you ''eager'' to?"
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| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Trouble? Oh, sure, trouble! Lead the way!" Days can only smirk broadly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Narrator: ''' Some time later, Moon finds where the trail leads.
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| − | | |
| − | A temlple, broken, all symbols of its former worship desecrated beyond recognition.
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| − | | |
| − | It is a large, large temple, a Manse, with quite a garden in front of it... a garden of red flowers.
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| − | | |
| − | Moon can feel the scent of Bloody Hands within. And feel two of them walking on the street, towards the temple.
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| − | | |
| − | And the flowers... they are watered in blood.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' "A'ite," Moon confirmed as he stared at the blood-soaked flower for a moment. The Lunar looked up at Days. "Ya can go first."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Glory to the brave." And with a resolute number of steps, Snow Monkey takes the lead. "You see, there is a kind of honor in nigh-foolish bravery." He winks at Moon, then goes back to taking point.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' Moon grunted in agreement, rolling up the sleeves of his coat as he followed behind the snow-monkey, keeping his senses open for the ambush he knew ''damn well'' was waiting for them in there. "I'm just fed up with gettin' jumped on first."
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Narrator: ''' And then, Snow Monkey walks through the garden, victorious monkey feeling the scent of blood, slick, strong, seeming to stick to her flesh. He walks through the garden and in front of the large gates of the water manse... and they open up wide. And within... within, he sees the lights of hundreds of candles. Within, he sees the feline spirits lazing about, covered in shadow and with glowing eyes. Six of them. And on the altar, a figure in full black armor, caped, giving quite a speech.
| |
| − | | |
| − | "... urder! We must praise murder! In taking another's life, we send him to a better life... in taking another's life, in the right way, calmly, as part of a plan, we pray! Murder is our prayer! It is how we validate our god, our faith! You, kittens... you know. It is like hunting. Playing. Letting them know fear, before they are done, not for food, but the true h..." He stops his inflamed speech as the Snow Monkey comes, "... what do we have here?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | Moon feels a strange scent. Blood, blood, blood ''all around''. But not Bloody Hands. No real spirits. Just blood.<br>
| |
| − | Spiritual blood, as he does not see any...
| |
| − | | |
| − | And Kanti see... Irises all around. Great Flowers that take out most of the air in the church, most of the open space, constantly shifting, opening and closing, great flowers with hands and eyes shining....
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Hi there!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | Snow Monkey puts on a broad smile and waves, chuckling. "So, you're talking about murder and hunting and all that fun business, so I have to pose a question."
| |
| − | | |
| − | Pointing the snake-head of Owl and Serpent at the man, Days grins viciously. "Are you willing to offer your body as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable until whatever vile thing you worship... which is, as far as I can tell, your reasonable service?" The staff lowers. "... or are you the sort of hypocrite that doesn't practice what he preaches?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Narrator: ''' He stands still. The mask hides it, but he is certainly insulted, judging from his tone. And surprised. "One cannot murder himself, monkey! You see... and I am already dead. I was born dead. Only the mortals... Exalted... your kind... all of the living, that ask for Holy Murder. But answer me." He asks, gesticulating, "Why do a little rat like you walk into the lion's mouth like this? Are you offering yourself as a sacrifice? Do you wish to be singled out before Murder comes for all of this city?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Ah! But you're wrong in one regard!" He re-points the staff, the grin widening. "To be born is to live, to be, to exist! Even if your soul is dead and your spirit is vacant, there is nonetheless a body that moves, meat that reacts, and mind that works. Those I would love nothing more than to bash to pulp until you leave this coil and take your great and lovely reward for all the people you're ushered off to destruction."
| |
| − | | |
| − | "Murder is murder is murder. And if I cannot murder you, than I will certainly not allow you to murder me. Attempt to do so, and I will take it upon myself to tear off your genitals."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He pauses, flashing pearly-white monkeyfangs. "With my teeth."
| |
| − | | |
| − | He sounds quite serious about this.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon: ''' ''Cats! ''
| |
| − | | |
| − | Light throbbed and surged around the Lunar, stirring upwards in irritation as his narrowed eyes peered at the feline spirits. The scent of spirit-blood, even strong as it was here, mattered much, much less. His back hunched and shoulders rose warily, legs bending slightly as he braced to be ready to pounce at any moment. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he watched the bastard felines, laying about all smug and self-centered and lazy. Little bastards! Would serve them right if he tied their tails together and used them to bludgeon each other to death.
| |
| − | | |
| − | Fingers flexing eagerly, Moon smacks his lips softly, waiting for the monkey to stop bantering the dead bastard so he could get to work. He didn't really give the possibility that the feline spirits might not have had anything to do with this. He didn't have to. They were ''cats'', they were ''all'' evil.
| |
| − | | |
| − | '''Narrator: ''' He opens his palms, little holes opening on the armor, little crimson insects coming from it and mingling with the air... joining the great 'flowers' the constructs of blood within the spirit world that are filling the room in the immaterial space.... "You see, it does not matter what you allow." The cats fall, surrounding the newcomers... "It simply does not matter. We will murder you. You have walked into the most holy Ceremony for the raising of the Lords of Massacre."
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| − | | |
| − | "The penalty for that is death."
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| − | | |
| − | "And I assure you..." He says in a more personal, less preaching tone... "You will not get ''anywhere'' near my crotch!"
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| − | | |
| − | '''Child of Wyld Days: ''' "Says you."
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| − | | |
| − | Days gnashes his teeth once, the snap almost ringing like a closing steel trap.
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| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | ----
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| − | | |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/SeventhMovement|Seventh Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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