Difference between revisions of "GoldenCat/AngelFall"

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#REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]]
* - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
 
 
 
== Fall Of An Angel ==
 
 
 
Drip. Drip. Blood drips to the ground, so dark and crimson... so distoant with the pale beauty of the albino it runs from. Blood coats a spear as pale as her flesh, White Oblivion shimmering wickedly with Essence, hungry to take another victim. Another strike at its possessor, another light prod. Alabaster still stands, his eyes mocking. And Obsidian... Obsidian lifts his mace for yet another strike, bringing the Goremaul down heavily towards Vorpal's torso...
 
 
 
As the Goremaul hits Vorpal, she hits the wall behind her, falling to the ground, limp. Obsidian laughs, triumphant, over the Abyssal’s body... while Alabaster takes his spear to finish the job. Then, cutting the dark mists of the illusion, comes a screeching bird of light, lighting-quick, to fast for anything to evade... touching Alabsater's face and exploding in pure, clean sunlight...
 
 
 
Alabaster backs down, screaming, as the light sears his face, burning his taint away... the smoke that comes out of him like clean burial incense, all taint cleaned by the light of the sun. His head turns, growling some insult in Old Realm as a small figure, robed in white and covered in shimmering light of the sunset steps into the illusion, his eyes narrowing in hate, the immense golden sword shimmering on his right hand.
 
 
 
"Excuse me," <br>
 
He says simply.<br>
 
"Could you kindly let go of my jailor?"
 
 
 
<b>Alabaster:</b> "You should have been taken care of already...." Alabaster hisses, hands in his burning face, feeling the pain of the Solar flare... through his armor, through it all. The boy was powerful... far too powerful. It was the sword. The sword was anathema to them, and the corona about him...
 
 
 
<b>Obsidian:</b> Obsidian laughs, once again... "To underestimate the boy, out of all of them... heh. Wonderful. Run, boy. That is what you should have done. Instead, you came to the mouth of the Dragon. Look around you, whelp. And despair."
 
 
 
<b>Alex Holysword:</b> "I have seen my home razed."
 
 
 
He replies, eyes half-closed. <br>
 
"I have held my father as he died"<br>
 
"Have seen my mother bleeding on the floor of her own entrance hall."<br>
 
"I have burned their bodies."<br>
 
"I am not going to <i>despair</i> before your god."<br>
 
He flares, his eyes burning with the light of twilight, amethysts gone to gold and red...<br>
 
"I am going to kill it." <br>
 
He walks towards Alabaster as he says so, the gleam of the sunset around him crackling and roaring....
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Children," Selina purrs, tossing her gown on the top of a barrel as she draws her sword, pointing it at the larger...thing, that was fighting Vorpal as the illusion goes away. "That was hardly fair, mmm? Perhaps you should have sent your attack dog to help the dead crow in dealing with me. <i>He failed,</i> as will you."
 
 
 
Pursing her lips as the green gem at her throat shines for a moment, she sneers at them, forcing the energies of her sword to boil Obsidian's essence into chaos. "<i>A ghost may not kill me.</i>"
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> In the middle of it all, Vorpal's unconscious form lies silently, her hair and cloak - moist and sticky with her own blood - soaking in the dirt of the street. The pale aura of her Essence has evaporated, her anima banner snuffed out. Everyone's attention fixed on other, more pressing matters than a half-dead Ghost-Blooded, few people notice the silent, almost non-existent shift in her inner Essence.
 
 
 
For even though Vorpal's mind is unconscious, her body still lives, and like so many times before, reacts to its critical situation. Her remaining Essence begins to move, embracing her vital organs, surrounding the vicious gashes in her torso, caressing her broken ribs. It circulates throughout her entire system, increasing her healing speed ten-fold.
 
 
 
<b>Obsidian:</b> Infinite possibility, infinite chaos. Seeping into his form, turning it, changing him.... into something else. He grunts as the forces of the Wyld twist even his corpus, and narrows his eyes at the newcomer. "Another. One. Seems like we worried with the wrong person all along." Kicking Vorpal’s body away, like gutter trash, Obsidian laughs "Prod, prod, prod... come on, prod me some more, newcomer." He taunts, his voice betraying his pain all the same....
 
 
 
... at the same time he exchanges a glance with Alabaster.
 
 
 
A glance that tells him all he should know. He opens his arms... and waits for the Dark Angel.
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> "You should never have overstepped your appointed place, trash-dragon!" Selina yells as she charges toward him, aura suddenly blazing into being with the fury of its iconic display, blade crackling with dark power and lightning both as she lunges at Obsidian. "<i>Learn. Your. <b>Place</b></i>!"
 
 
 
Selina rushes to Obsidian... and past him, dreamshard twisting his armor into something unrecognizable as it goes through it, hitting the heart of his corpus and undoing his burrowed body. He looks at her... and laughs. He begins to laugh as his body is unmade as stone, falling to the ground... as his soul escapes to safety.
 
 
 
<b>Alabaster:</b> Alabaster's look towards Obsidian was one of purpose. Alabaster, lord command of the Dead Hand, was a General. And he knew when to pull back. The Pale Angel had drained their Essence... and they were not as strong as they might be. Every strike within one of them, albeit too weak to kill, had seeped their energy... and now, especially with the boy bringing their poison, they could not afford to try their hand. They would need the vantage point.
 
 
 
"Another time. Another place." He says, with a nod... and takes to the skies, jumping high up in the air!
 
 
 
<b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Oh no." Alex says, closing his eyes. "You are <i>not</i> going anywhere."
 
 
 
A touch on his brow, on the mark of the sun. liquid gold on his hands, as he passes over his blade, praying. A prayer for his family, a prayer for his jailor. The enemy shall not escape.
 
 
 
A twist of his hand, and Ainerach grows wings. Screeching like the bird of his anima, it dards foward, carrying his desire, his vengeance and his purity to exact heavenly revenge upon those who serve the butched of his family, piercing dark clouds, a dark sky and a dark moon towards his enemy, straight into his dark heart!
 
 
 
And touches nothing, as he cuts the air, and with a shimmer, disappear in the darkness of the night, into the Underworld.
 
 
 
"Bastard."
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> Looking at Alex dryly, Selina coughs and steps away from them all until her anima dies down. "If you can heal, child, you'd better heal her before it's too late."
 
 
 
<b>Alex Holysword:</b> Not wasting a breath, He rushes towards Vorpal, taking her body on the ground...
 
 
 
<i>My jailor. Holding the key to my freedom...</i>
 
 
 
<i>The one to take me to a mistress of darkness, the one to take me to damnation. A prize, a... a thing.</i>
 
 
 
<i>The one that saved me.</i>
 
 
 
Hands on her brow, Alex shines with solar energy once again... mending Vorpal's wounds, recovering her body... and receiving each of them in turn. Blood comes out of his mouth, and he holds it between his hands as he feels his essence cut and wounded, each and every blow Vorpal took imprinting itself on his body.... until her eyes open. "She will be ok now...."
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> <i>She will be ok now....</i>
 
 
 
The clash of a Goremaul against her soulsteel armor, splintering her ribs, hurling her against the wall... Tattered shards of memories hurtle through her mind.
 
 
 
<i>She will be ok now...</i>
 
 
 
Her teeth clench reflexively as the Solar Essence flows through her body. Wrong, wrong, that's all wrong... Her Abyssal body shivers under the touch of the purity. She attempts to reject the treatment, to push the wrong Essence out, but in the end, the Solar's powers, combined with Vorpal's own instinctive will to live, overpowers the reaction.
 
 
 
<i>She will be ok now...</i>
 
 
 
The pain comes back. Its razor-sharp splinters rend her body, burn in her head, searing her awake.
 
 
 
<i>Oh, really... How about if I disagree?</i>
 
 
 
Her eyes flutter open, unfocused yet battling against the blackness that lingers in the edges of her vision. She looks left, right, then upwards, moving only her eyes, keeping her body as still as possible. Soon, she notices the boy.
 
 
 
The boy... good grief, she was saved this time by a <i>Solar boy</i>!
 
 
 
"You know..." she states quietly, oddly calm and tranquil. Her voice slurs slightly, as if she had been spending all night in the tavern. "It is... really odd. The fate never shows any mercy with the beating part, but it is a sissy when it comes to the <i>dying..</i>."
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> "At least, they weren't intending to violate you." Selina says simply, looking for somewhere to wipe her rapier's blade clean from the gore it picked up going through Obsidian's body. "But then, the dead were never very big on carnal pleasures. Demons on the other hand..."
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> The recognition of the voice sinks in like depressive darkness.
 
 
 
<i>Ohhh nno.</i>
 
 
 
"A favor to the wounded warrior, Dark Angel?"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> Looking around, then finally deciding to wipe her blade on a discarded rag, Selina stoops to pick it up and clean the weapon, then tosses the rag back into the alleyway. "Eh?" She asks distractedly.
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> "Keep the gloating to the minimum, if you please", Vorpal says absently, with a weary tone of voice. "I already have a headache."
 
 
 
Her eyes fixing back to Alexander, she seems to take in his wounds for the first time. Something that <i>could</i> be concern passes across her face. "Will you live, lad?"
 
 
 
The illusion fades around them.
 
 
 
Splinters of dead dreams, cold, dark, sterile essence vanishes without a mind to drive it, and a power to keep it alive on the context of Creation. It vanishes, giving the three the vision of a cloud-filled night sky, only precious few cloudless patches where one can see Saturn shining....
 
 
 
<b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Hey, easy, you two!" The boy speaks, coughing some more blood, discarding it away... his form still crackling with the organge gold of the sunset, the golden circle vanishing from his brow. He seemed... taller, greater. His perfect face more imponent than the usual. "I did not bring her back so you two kill each other." He coughs a little more, trying to disguise his pain as much as he can.. and failing spetacularly. "Yes, yes... I will live. And so will you. Guess we are about the same scale of hurt..." He says, reaching a hand to the back of her head, to help her up...
 
 
 
And the solar energy crackles on his skin, a jolt like a sting on Vorpal's face, as Alex yelps...
 
 
 
<i>Dark. Unclean. Forsaken.</i>
 
 
 
He hear something whisper on the back of his mind, taking a step back, getting up and sheathing the sword...
 
 
 
<i>Cannot touch that which is unclean, boy. To save her was like saving a wounded demon.</i>
 
 
<i>Idiot!</i>
 
 
 
<i>Who are you?</i>
 
 
 
<i>Who else?</i>
 
 
 
Daiklave sheathed, he turns around, closing his eyes in an inner struggle. "Can you help her up, Kinslayer?"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> <i>What a joy they'll have recobbling that section of the street.</i> Selina thinks disgustedly, wanting to kill the nemissaries again for their impudence in wrecking her city. And of course its her's, the fact that the Durant family rules it in stead for now is a mere inconvenience to her mind. <i>I'm going to find their leader, and I'm going to roast him over a slow fire.</i>
 
 
 
"Gloating?" Selina replies absently, looking about as she goes to slide her dress back on. "I don't feel like gloating right now."
 
 
 
In fact, still feeling the aftermath of what Charmaine did to her, Selina feels more like a bath.
 
 
 
Walking over to the other deathknight, aura finally having died down, Selina pulls her uncerimoniously to her feet, still glaring at the wreck the nemissaries made of those few feet of the cobblestone street.
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> <i>Oh, they'll be the company of the damned alright, when I'm through with them.</i>
 
 
 
<i>Ow.</i> She frowns slightly at the unexpected sting from the boy's Solar Essence. <i>Now what was that about?</i>
 
 
 
The moment passes quickly, however, and she turns her attention to Selina as she approaches the other Abyssal. She, however, refuses to grab the offered hand. "Take care of the boy. I think I can handle myself."
 
 
 
<b>Alex Holysword:</b> He turns around. His eyes are, once again, too old for his body. They shine with recognition and reprehension to Selina and Vorpal, and his hand moves to the handle of the Daiklave...
 
 
 
"Heh."
 
 
 
Wind passes between them. And then, it is gone.
 
 
 
Fists close. Eyes close. Head shakes. And then, he is just a young boy once again, amidst the mists, last traces of the illusion gone, now simply standing on the mist-covered street... the body of a misshapen giant and the cobblestones tore and exploded where he made his earthly armor not far from him. Circling that, Alexander walks towards Obsidian..."Hmmm, I suppose I can throw him out of the cliff. Guess it will be a little harder for them to find him. They shouldn't know any of you are around here, right?"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Suit yourself." The assassin replies, stopping and looking at both consideringly. "Before we all run off into our respective corners and angst the rest of a perfectly good night away, I think you should know of a matter I set to rectify the situation somewhat."
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> "Mm?" Gazing at the cloud above, Vorpal absently lifts her eyebrows. "Really now?"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> Selina nods assuredly, ringlets of fiery scarlet hair bouncing as she does so, pitching her voice so it's harder for people farther away than Vorpal and Alex to hear. "The day after tomorrow, you and I will go and 'discuss terms' with some of the Bishop's deathknights. What they are, should be obvious. This should keep them off of our backs at least until then."
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> There is a moment of silence and thought before Vorpal speaks. "Those two nemessaries said that there was a third one dispatched to slay you. Have you been attacked already? Before or after you got this offer for parlay?"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> "After. I dealt with him appropriately, except he was able to get away." Sounding somewhat disgusted at herself for letting him run, Selina continues. "That lot doesn't respect the decisions of their betters -- and my attacker at least knew of the deal -- so they decided to continue their mission."
 
 
 
<b>Alexander Holysword:</b> "Terms?" Alex says, sighing. "I suppose the kinslayer will do what she does best for them?"
 
 
 
Alexander says, revolted.<i> I won't have innocents dying to keep me safe. I won't let her!</i> he thinks, his eyes narrowing.
 
 
 
Vorpal's words make him remember his own foes... <i>Iron Shades</i>, four of them. They burned uder the blade of Ainerach, and they were the reason Alex had came out - he was the one who let Alexander know his jailors would be in danger... <i>And then, I jumped out in the cold night to save....<b> them.</b></i>
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> Vorpal chuckles - it is an honest laugh, an odd gust of good humor from a woman usually so stern and cynical. "Well, that peace lasted for long."
 
 
 
Then the laughter becomes a grunt of pain as the Pale Angel forces her limbs to obey. Her arms move, first one palm, then the other presses flat against the cold ground. She utilizes her muscles gingerly, checking each joint and fiber carefully to determine the extent of damage as she proceeds to pull herself into a sitting position.
 
 
 
"Of course, offers for parley have been used as a cover for surprise attacks before. I'd say we can safely have an hour or two of real luxury before they realize that these nemessaries will never return from their mission -" Aiming a glance at Selina, she adds matter-of-factly: "You probably less than that, Dark Angel."
 
 
 
Shrugging - and suppressing a wince that comes with the move - she finishes: "After that, we would do well to remain vigilant enough, just in case."
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> "Oh, but they want us as well. Not just our shiny little friend here." She purrs the next sentence out. "In fact, the deathknight I met with seemed to want you serving the Bishop alongside her...very much."
 
 
 
Tone returning to normal, Selina continues. "We'll see what they do, won't we?"
 
 
 
<b>Windia:</b> Step. Step Step.
 
 
 
Out of the mist, comes the steps.
 
 
 
Step.Step.Step.
 
 
 
Three or so, forms in the mist, coming closer and closer....
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> "Hmm", is Vorpal's only reply. She opens her mouth to add something else, but clamps it shut again at the sound of the approaching footsteps.
 
 
 
Hastily pointing at her forehead, she asks with a hushed tone of voice: "Is it still there?"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> Drawing her sword again, Selina sighs and looks about, ready for an attack from any direction now. And tired of fighting for the rest of the day.
 
 
 
<b>Alex Holysword:</b> Alexander seems ready to hold Selina's arm and make her listen to him.
 
 
 
A prince, not used to being ignored, oh nooo....
 
 
 
And then, the footsteps. He spins around himself, going to the body... and lifting it!
 
 
 
Lifting the behemoth over his head, the earth armor falling out of him like sand, Alex stakes his inert body... and throws it down the first cliff between the houses he can find, few steps from there.
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> Not waiting for an answer, Vorpal quickly glances around to locate her sword and, wrenching herself into motion, raises herself into a crouch and reaches for Mournful Kiss' handle with a single move.
 
 
 
<b>Windia:</b> "And thensh, and THENSH, I hit her like <i>that!</i> Taught the bitch to.. to... you knowsh!" One says, holding the other to be able to walk straight, voice slurred. The two laugh, their laugher filling the street.... two men, rich, by their clothes. And a bodyguard, looking stoically at their side, like a Effigy on the underworld, looking like he is just there to accompany them, having awareness of nothing save threats. Seeing Selina and her rapier, he readies his hand over the blade, the metallic clink being heard. "Sir."
 
 
 
The one still sober looks around... gazing over the Dark Angel... and laughing again. "Perfect, perfect <i>perfect</i>!" he says in delight, walking closer to Selina, "Now, <i>this</i> is lucky! What are you doing out of the Crimson Satin, honey?" The name of one of Windia's most expensiver brothels making quite celear what is his intention.
 
 
 
"My, my <i>my</i>!" The drunken one says, almost tripping as he goes towards her, "Man, what is THAT! I died and I'm seeing Venus in front of me..."
 
 
 
"Indeed, indeed, my friend, but <b>I</b> am the only one here with enough money for pleasures so <i>heavenily</i> I would say! So, how much for the night, honey? And the week?" he says, coming closer and closer, whispering, "Do well tonight, and pretty like this, I can even make you live in luxury for life as my concubine..."
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> With a single, smooth motion, Vorpal flicks the hood of her cloak over her head and leans backwards against the wall. Pulling the hems of her cloak just a little forth around her, she then remains still, relying on the garment's magical ability to blend into the shadows to keep her unnoticed... and trusting that they think she might just be another homeless out in the street if the trick fails.
 
 
 
And all this is done while working hard to suppress another gust of laughter threatening to bubble to the surface...
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> <i>How <b>dare</b> they...I outrank them both! I outrank them <b>combined!</b></i>
 
 
 
Of course, she doesn't say anything about that. No need to bring the Watch down on herself. Instead, Selina sputters with fury, stepping back a few paces. "I. Am. Not. A. <b>Whore!</b>"
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> <i>So she says...</i>
 
 
 
The disturbing image of the very same woman, then blonde and black-winged, offering herself to the albino flickering in Vorpal's mind, she holds back a snicker and rolls her eyes.
 
 
 
<b>Windia:</b> "Osh, osh, c'monish, beautiful... don' go saying that to ussh, aye?" The guild-boy says in a slurred voice, "Just comesh here and spread these pretties to us, will you?" He reaches foward then, touching her bosom and pushing her closer by it...
 
 
 
Then stopped by the sober one, "Er, sorry, sorry... my friend jus drank a little too much. I'm sorry, er, it's just that you look, er, seem, er... nevermind!"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> Luckily for him, Selina's high-necked traveling gown insures he's not actually touching anything directly. Unfortunately, that action and the unsure words of his comrade don't really help her temper. Moving away from them again, she sheaths her rapier and turns around, beginning to walk into the inn without any further words, stewing in offended silence.
 
 
 
<b>Windia:</b> "Hey, hey, wait, wait, <i>WAIT!</i>" The sober one says, running after her after leaving his friend on the care of his bodyguard, "My name's Theon Devrier, son of the count Devrier!" He announces proudly, as if that was supposed to clear all the problems, "I'm sorry for offending you... I'm having a party tomorrow night, and I would love to have someone as.... amazing as you there. I bet the rest of my guests would to... may I have your name, please?"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> Whipping about to face him with sudden speed, Selina settles her narrowed gaze on him, adressing him in what is still an angry tone, but more normally throaty than before. "Nellens Adriana. And not if I'm going to be squeezed and groped all night, you may be assured of that."
 
 
 
<b>Windia:</b> "Nellens... doesn't that explain much! But, with a butt... er, a body.... er, a face... like this, I can't say I can hold people back, but you will be assured I will try...." He bows, trying hard to take his eyes out of her to walk away.
 
 
 
<b>Alex Holysword:</b> "Admirers? They should know this raven can peck their eyes off..." Alex says as soon as they vanish.
 
 
 
He walks close to her, suddenly he grabbing her arm, "You ignored me before, but listen. I am <b>not</b> letting you seal this 'deal' with the zealots over any innocent life. You hear me?"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> Still angry, Selina rears up to her full height in front of him, like a cobra. "I did this <i>specifically</i> to keep them from damaging <b>my</b> city and <b>my</b> people. Your life, or whatever they want with you, is the bargain."
 
 
 
"And I never told her we'd <i>accept</i>. Just that we'd <i>talk</i> about it."
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> "What are you talking about?" Vorpal puts in, slowly rising to her feet from the place where she hid. "From what she said, they only want an Anathema and two filthy Abyssals."
 
 
 
Dragging the sword lazily behind her, its soulsteel tip scraping against the street, the Ghost-Blooded approaches the other two. "Are any of them innocent?"
 
 
 
<b>Alex holysword:</b> <i>Just a thing to them...</i>
 
 
 
<i>And I saved them.</i>
 
 
 
<I>Just a <b>thing</b>....</i>
 
 
 
"Anathema...."
 
 
 
He grew up learning of the might and the greatness of the Solars. He also grew up learning how he should always hide that knowledge. That the people of the outside kingdoms would kill him for it. They were more accepting in Windia, but even there they would spread her legs and let a Wyld Hunt ram through after Anathema as soon as one caused problems...
 
 
 
<i>For the whole world, I am just like them. They will see me shine, and will think me the same as them...these, these cursed things!</i>
 
 
 
"I didn't do ANYTHING!" he shouts to Vorpal, "I am not that!"
 
 
 
<b>Selina De Windia:</b> <i>I will not waste tonight on anger.</i> Selina repeats to herself like a mantra, trying to soothe herself, calming. She barely picks up the sentences Alex is saying, and just shakes her head disgustedly. "Anathema, like it or not. Nothing you can do about it. Just accept it."
 
 
 
<b>Vorpal:</b> "Really now", Vorpal returns wearily and leans forward, bringing her red gaze very close against Alex's own eyes. "Anathema is just an insult among others. A taunt doesn't kill, lad - that depends on how you respond to it."
 
 
 
<b>Alex Holysword:</b> Alexander Shrugs.
 
 
 
"I.... see...."
 
 
 
<i>I wasn't born to be insulted. I a prince. I am a chosen. I am not...</i>
 
 
 
Turning to the inn once more, Vorpal gestures at the entrance with a nod of her head. "The minstrel should be in the taproom, entertaining the audience... and I'm going to need another bath. Come on." And so, they go into the Hourglass... leaving a broken street and powerful ghosts behind, their eyes burning at their backs from the Underworld...
 
 
 
----
 
 
 
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Revision as of 08:06, 5 April 2010

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