Difference between revisions of "GoldenCat/ADoAQuotes"

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* - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
  
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A place to remember quotable and memorable moments!
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Funny, Dramatic, Tragic, absurd... what one finds interesting! ^.^
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I could recall a couple off the top of my head - _please_ paste here any you guys might like - Do remember I have been too scatterbrained lately and from this will go write more paragraphs-long stuff on the game and more antagonist and protagonist sheets, so for the love of the chibi UCS, help me here! =^..^=
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=== Quoteness! ===
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"Danger need only go so far as perception to be enjoyable, Alex," he smiles at the prince "Mmm... there are women you'll meet whose voice and nature make it seem as though they would eat you alive and make you savor every moment of it..." There is a glance towards Selina as he speaks, deliberate and gauging, yet he makes no other implications towards her. "These, you'll find too, often enjoy being prey as much as predator and if you ever need violence for your thrills, seek it from them."
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"Then there are those like miss Lilth," a nod of his head and a teasing smile. "Who are frightening because you can never be certain if their smile means they are mildly irritated or if they are envisioning ripping out your spine and bludgeoning you to death with it."
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<i> - Domiel Winterwing, on Vorpal taking a sword to dinner and killing a wall with it</i>
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"Why the bludgeon part?" Vorpal asks, and although she seems outwardly nonplussed at Gasper's words, in the inside she is maintaining a careful control over her face, to keep her lips from curling upwards. "I usually just leave them to wither - it lasts longer that way."
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<i> - Vorpy’s Reply </i>
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----
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"Simple truth in that, Alex darling: Abyssal women are bitchy. We love picking at other people, and each other. It's like our moonblood is on all month." She chuckles, looking at the rest of them for a moment, then stops. "And people like the Vestal? Well, they're freaks."
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<i> - Selina, and truer words were never spoken</i>
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----
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The Hierophant gestures, and at his gesture the two sacks of Essence around him cross over to the world of flesh, gathering bodies of Essence to appear as Blood-Soaked, carnivorous Apes. "In my care to be diplomatic, I have been to gentle on my actions. I have turned the other cheek TOO OFTEN today. Murder and horror are HOLY things, and I have not been devout enough. We must have FAITH in horror, my creatures. It elevates us. Even as we posses a spark of dreaded life in us, when we destroy for our master, we are cleansed. The Shining One loves us best when we kill everything we see. Kill kill kill kill KILL! KILLING is our PRAYER."
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His weapon, Nether Serpent, points to the beautiful albino as it breaks as a proper Serpent-Sting Staff,
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"Pale Angel...?"
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"Let us pray."
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<i>- The Hierophant Clad in the Skin of Deceivers. Fanaticism has never been so pure.</i>
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----
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And suddenly... it ends.
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The Nemessaries all fallen, the monks all fallen, their leader, the Blade, fallen.
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For a moment, all is silence, for a moment, time stops. Adrenaline cools down.
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And then... inside the Deathknights...
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Inside your minds... inside your souls... inside your very virtues and desires... they laugh! A knot on your stomach, on your throat, on your eyes and on your soul. Oblivion pours forth from your hearts and purrs obcenities on your ear. They laugh at you, at your wants and desires. They show how it is nothing to them. Nothing compared to their own desires, those that guide your fates, that caress your true names and and souls.
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Inside Vorpal’s heart, the lovers wither and die, convulsing sickly for an eternity, because she dared to look upon them. To admire them. To dream of them. Her attention and her love was their undoing, and all she can do is watch as these sweet figures burn under the oblivion that washes from her...
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Inside Selina’s heart, she sees her child, hugs him tightly... and sees as her love burns his skin, as her feathers burn his soul, sees as he crumbles to ash and dust on her hands... just like the images of her family, the blood on her hands, the blood of them all on her hands...
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And so, the laugh is gone, echoing hollowy on your souls, leaving only the barreness of your wombs and souls and the pointlessness of your desires now... as you are servants of Oblivion. Tools for the ultimate death, shaped as the women you once were, and no more.
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<i> - Resonance is happy family fun!</i>
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----
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Kanti stops her dance at the Vestal's request, trembling softly with the effort and emotion of at all as she walks towards the Vestal, careful footsteps, a trail of iris blossoms behind her...
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And then her mistress' distress...a cold look at the Crusader for annoying her so, quickly averted in fear...then they went...the cold one and the abombination....
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Leaving her with the mistress ... she kneeled slowly, a tremble filling her body...so close now...to the one that did this too her. Took her beauty and remade it to her own liking, inflicted such hurts on her just to hear her screams...and yet...
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She rested her head on the Vestals lap ...and yet..for one brief instant, she was here and nothing else mattered, just that she with the Vestal and the Vestal loved her...
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"I....your servants have been ...good to m mistress....thank you .... but...." Kanti trailed off...
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"But?" The Vestal asked, one hand trailing down Kanti's cheek as she trembled slightly..
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"...I missed you, mistress" spoken as the merest whisper...why she missed her, she did not know...had hated every instant with her....but....how could she not love her?
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Her soft hand caressing Kanti, she lowered her face, whispering, "I missed you too."
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"I will be sure to make up for all that time... specially with how you look now... so beautiful. The robes fit you, Kanti... did you like my gift? How they fit who you are now?"
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No No No! NO! She hated them, her weakness, her pain, woven into ....such a shape...for her mistress' pleasure...
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And so she smiled up at the vestal and her soft carresses "I did yes...thank you Mistress ... for such a wonderful gift."
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How could she say such things...how could such things fall from her lips...
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She shivered again, and hated herself for it.
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She held Kanti's face on both hands, smiling, "I am glad. Very glad, my pretty."
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"Promise me. Promise me you will always keep them, never let them be taken away or thrown away... and that you will remember me in their whispers. Promise me..."
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"I will mistress ...I will" she whispers softly, looking up at the Vestal, gazing into her eyes, loosing herself in them...
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Keep them with fond memories.
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Keep them until the day I kill you.
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Keep them forever.
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Keep them and remember you.
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<i> - Too cool. Just too cool!</i>
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----
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The Vestal touches Kanti, closing her eyes at the healing... "Like that... like that..." She smiles, kissing Kanti. "It hurt real bad. They cowardly pinned your mistress down, while a big, unwashed brute punched my back. He wanted to break me... wanted to break me, Kanti. They got close to it, too..."
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She purrs, "And they are around here now. They broke into one of our garrisons, and have been quite... noisy."
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Kanti shudders halfway between revulsion and exstacy as she is kissed.
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She...
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She...can be ...hurt....
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She can be killed...
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...why does that thought fill me with terror?
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"What is it you wish me to do to them, mistress?"
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<i> - Ditto</i>
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----
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The dinner ends peacefully after that, the almost smile of the Pale Angel crowning it. The conversation goes on, and soon they are done, and the night continues.... the performer takes them around, out of the restaurant and on to the theather, to watch the heart-felt rendition of 'The Chime of the Crystal Rose,' a moving romantic opera that tells the tell of star-crossed lovers over coming adversity to find happiness.
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"It was either this or "The Bloody Path of the Anathema-Queen"," Domeil estates, "which I hear is much better, but hardly seems appropriate under the circumstances."
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<i> - Domiel, to lighten the mood!</i>
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----
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"... which was about the time they asked me to leave town," Domiel finishes as the carriage rolls to a stop, bringing an end to the story of his own experience with star-crossed lovers, human and Rhaksha just as the play had featured, in a little village to the south. "Really rather rude of them, I thought, since I wasn't even the one who slept with the girl and everything ended happily enough. Or at least I'd like to assume they did, after the pair ran off. It's always hard to tell, with my cousins..."
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<i> - Same</i>
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----
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Moving off from the group, Selina makes her way down the cobblestone streets of the capital's noble district, thinking to herself of times long past.
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<i>Too long past.</i>
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When she lived here, when she learned here, when Windia was still to be <b>her</b> city. No more. Not since her abominable acts.
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<i>Who rules it now, the Durants?</i>
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<i>We shall see.</i>
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She passes her old manse, stopped for a few minutes to look on it before continuing, remembering the days before any of it came to pass, before she was Accursed. Before she became the Kinslayer. Before she sold her name to the dead gods.
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None of that...really mattered now, she supposed. It was over and done with. Nothing she could do.
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The Windian turned once she got to the graveyard of Windia's great, no longer caring if someone marked her, saw through her disguise. Let them come.
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<i>Let them all come.</i> She thought, walking past the gates after a nod to the gatekeeper. Not many were here today, in the wake of that little invasion, no one wanted to be around more death. <i>I am not the helpless little girl I was once.</i>
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She came at last to the graves of her parents. Weathered slightly, in the intervening years. Over a decade of weathering. No children though.
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<i>They say that the de Windia family died that day. That the parents were slain and the children, lost to the world.</i> Hard turquoise eyes looked at the ornate headstones, trying to bore through them, through the earth and see what she had not for so long. Hard turquoise eyes softened, as she remembered. Regretted. Too late, perhaps, but regret is not a creature of reality.
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<i>All...but <b>one.</b></i>
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She was the last.
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<i> - Selina Miriana De Windia, an exposition</i>
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----
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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...
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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... shitting Alabsater's face and exploding in pure, clean sunlight...
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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. "Excuse me," the boy says, "Could you kindly let go of my jailor?"
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"You should have been taken care of already...." Alabaster hisses, hands.
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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."
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"I have seen my home razed." He replies, eyes half-closed. "I have held my father as he died, have seen my mother bleeding on the floor of her own entrance hall. I have burned their bodies. I am not going to <i>despair</i> before your god. I am going to kill it." As he says so, his right hand comes out of the white cloak, brandishing the golden sword on his hand, the gleam of the sunset around him crackling and roaring....
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<i> - Alabaster, Obsidian, Alexander, and the Fall of an Angel. One of the few times Alex did something well!</i>
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----
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"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>!"
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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 borrowed body, making it fall, heavily, on the ground....
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<i> - Selina, right after, and the fall of Obsidian</i>
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----
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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."
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Not wasting a breath, He rushes towards Vorpal, taking her body on the ground...
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<i>My jailor. Holding the key to my freedom...</i>
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<i>The one to take me to a mistress of darkness, the one to take me to damnation. A prize, a... a thing.</i>
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<i>The one that saved me.</i>
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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...."
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<i> - Alex and a very very painful healing.</i>
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----
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Putting the results of her last attack together with what the Lunar just managed to do made the assassin come to her decision.
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<i>So, hitting him doesn't work?</i>
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Hopping a step backward from the advancing statue, Selina leaps into air with a tremendous push of her legs right as her feet return to the ground, up and away from the statue. As she streaks into the heavens with her aura burning about her form, she whips Dreamshard around to her front, pointing at the sky. The weapon's blade seems to flicker with an odd radiance, as if all the dreams of the world lay hidden within.
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"Strike with all your power, and you cannot touch me." She calls down at her opponent, wings making a single beat as her weapon's glow becomes brighter, almost audiable. As if a hundred children are screaming at once. <i>Shrieking crying laughing</i>, dreams and nightmares bending under her will as she points the weapon down at her opponent. "I am <b>invincible</b>, I am <i><b>immortal</b></i>! <i><b>You cannot harm me</b></i>." Her voice echos down below.
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And then the wyld energy inside the daiklave focuses...on somewhere. Inside the statue. Warping, twisting, changing. The dreams of a hundred fae shrieking into the statue's very being for a split moment, before guttering out.
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<i> - The 'invincible void princess' moment^_^</i>
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----
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He trembles.
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He knew this would be coming, no death before, certain death now... he lifts his face tentatively, lifts his eyes tentatively... he had been born to rule, but before Vorpal, was just as a puppy, yet... not tested battle prowess, no royal station, nothing mattered under that gaze... and now, he was too scared to even move away... "A-are... are you... mad, m-milady?"
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He trembles.
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He knew this would be coming, no death before, certain death now... he lifts his face tentatively, lifts his eyes tentatively... he had been born to rule, but before Vorpal, was just as a puppy, yet... not tested battle prowess, no royal station, nothing mattered under that gaze... and now, he was too scared to even move away... "A-are... are you... mad, m-milady?"
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<i> - Alexander, after his Klutzyness had him fall between Vorpal's legs, on a chemise and nothing else...</i>
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Letting go of Alex's hair, Vorpal slides her hand downwards, the very tips of her fingers stroking the prince's chin, tracing the smooth, beautiful arch of his face down to his jaw. There her hand lingers, and she lifts his head gently upwards, past the flat stomach and the ample bosom, past the milky white throat, all the way up to her face and the eyes that glow there with all the blazing, scorching heat of hellfire.
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"No", she replies, and her kind, quiet words echo with the thundering boom of war drums. Flowers placed onto gravestones wilt away, leaves fall from the trees, wives give birth to stillborn babies. "Not at all."
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<i> - Vorpy... someone you should <b>never</b> anger of embarass.</i>
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----
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<i>Tee-hee-hee!</i>
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The chamber is silent, save for an occasional rustle of a new page being turned over and the laborous, halting breathing of Vorpal deFay as she struggles... Not against her burning wounds, not against the feverish visions that had accompanied them, but against a foe so devious that even the infamous Pale Angel has trouble at holding it at bay.
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She twists and she writhes atop the sheets of her bed, heedless of the stabs pain coming from her wounds with each move. Her hair is in disarray, her legs are entwined around each other, her hands are clasped convulsively around the covers of the book which the prince had given her. Her eyes, usually so red and frightening, now gobble up a line after line of the romantic prose written onto those pages. A hot and healthy blush glowing on her white cheeks, she struggles and she fights, but she cannot hold an occasional laugh and a gleeful giggle from bubbling up to the surface from the deepest recesses of her soul.
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<i>Tee-hee-hee!</i>
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Ooh, it had been so long since she had had a chance for such luxury! After weeks of nothing but swords and battles and blood and death and scantily-clad harlots strutting their wares at her, she had missed an opportunity to lower her guard even for a moment...
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<i> - ... Except, you know, when she is being like this! Then she is cute!</i>
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----
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Vorpal instinctively props a hand against the wall for support as the ship begins its ascend. She is a little at loss with Calisara's intentions at first, but then the smug smile returns to her lips. "Be my guest, then."
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Sobering, she turns back towards the corridor, her Essence-sharpened senses probing for the reactions and the location of the intruders. The gleam in her eyes, however, remains as she states: "All right... from this point on, Zephyr Falcon will be a ghost ship."
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She pauses, inhales deeply, and then begins to speak, her voice suddenly inhumane and otherworldy. It is like an invisible stream of darkness pouring gently forth from her mouth, her words tiny islands of coldest ice floating atop black waves.
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<i>"Ahhhh"</i>,
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she intones in an achingly sultry tone, sending her voice drifting down the corridor like cold fog, where the intruders are sure to hear it.
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<i>"Sweet, fresh blood, and so many warm bodies... My little slave outdid himself this time. The trap never fails."</i>
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Every sentence that leaves her mouth is repeated by a chorus of fading echoes, like a thousand damned souls speaking in unison. Her hand quickly signaling for Calisara to begin the other task, she chuckles, her voice conjuring up images that are a macabre combination of the coldest nightmares and the darkest, wildest fantasies that have ever tickled the loins of a man.
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<i>"Come, come, little sweetlings. I thirst..."</i>
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The lights dim. The doors begin to rattle. And then, they run to Vorpal, seeing nothing but her dark sillhouette... and hearing. And hearing her words, almost stopping their hearts, whispering ice in their souls.
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And then, in the dark corridor, they scream.
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And then, from the dark corridor, they run. They run like the Ebon Dragon himself was after them.
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They run, because any price for failure would not be worse than dealing with that demon!
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<i> - Vorpal being... scary. They ended up falling into a Lake the Zephyr was parked above of.</i>
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----
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"We could see if there were any mercenary companies that haven't yet found a suitable employer around", Vorpal suggests even as her eyes skim over the beginnings of the story written to the book. "I have some friends among them, and most of them believe I am but a Ghost-Blooded."
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She brushes absently a few strands of her hair over her shoulder. "How about you, skypirate? Do you have any colleagues who would be interested in a bit of military booty?"
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Cael steps forward a little, closer to the Pince, subtly offering support and reassurance. His eyes run over her body once more at that, a faint twinkle in his eye. Military Booty...
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<i> - Vorpal with a little bit of Cael at the end. I wonder if Arcy ever noticed how dirty that sounded... Vorpy the prostitute and Cael the pimp!</i>
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----
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<b>Vorpal:</b> "You know, wordsmith", she begins after a long stretch of silence. "There is something I want to ask."
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<b>Cael:</b> Cael turns to the pale angel, looks into the pale flames about her. "Yes?"
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<b>Vorpal:</b> "How do you keep all that white clean?"
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<b>Cael:</b> "Magic."
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<i> - After the fight with the Celebrant, Vorpal covered in blood and dirt, Alex covered in his wounds, and Cael... pristine.</i>
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----
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<b>Father of Crows:</b> "Something with a mask. Something dead? We only see dead things around..."
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"Dead things are like lobsters. Remember the restaurant? Always think of lobsters. Always think of food. We are predators, we have to think of food! You break the hsell. Within, tender, tender meat... tender like the flesh of a god, tender like the soul of a man... you break it, and eat. Bite and gnaw until it is gone. Just like a lobster. Just think of lobsters. We need to do it. We are hunters. Hunters need lobsters. NEED it!"
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Hand hitting one another, fingers on his lips as he thinks of flavor... then he stops, and the eyesless silhouette looks down. "Make it. As long as they aren't lobsters. The lobsters are mine. You go kill some dead things and gnaw on what comes out. But not on my lobsters."
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<b>Seventh Moon:</b> <i>Sima Sweet Thighs</i>
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The hound rolled it's pale eyes until the blue vanished and only pure white remained. Above him, the seven moons rolled as well, until seven eyes stared disgustedly at the Father.
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<i>How the fuck do ya pick people like this, goddess? Do ya just throw a rock and see who ya nail?</i>
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This was getting ridiculous. This was always ridiculous, but this time it was even worse.
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"Yeah, yeah, great. You can have all the fuckin' lobsters you want. Help me out and I'll even get ya some dipping sauce."
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<i>- The insanity of Moon's mentor. Seafood!</i>
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----
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<b>Frostwallow:</b> It does not take long before seeing the sigil of Mars, the spear and shield, shining on crimson paint under the morning sun. Soon enough in the morning... and the stores mostly empty, with only those who wake up so early, so different of the base part, where bussiness need to be conducted as soon as sun rises. The smell of iron fills the air, coming from the constant hammering on the inside...
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And the smell of mold comes from behind, from the bookstore <i>just accross the street,</i> the carefully-transcribed books with leathery covers there, calling, alluringly... and Vorpal stands there, between two sides of her life.
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<b>Vorpal:</b> <i>Oh, damn.</i>
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She halts, the dark folds of her cloak coming to a rest around her. Shifting her weight to one foot, she places one hand to her hip and lifts the other to tuck her hair better in place under her hood. Idly she glances between her choices, first left, then right, then back to the left again...
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<i>I hate it when this happens.</i>
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Eventually, she makes her decision.
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Her cloak once again whisking around her legs, the black hilt of her heavy claymore jutting over her shoulder, the Ghost-Blooded turns and marches without hesitation... into the bookstore.
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<i> - The Pale Angel's hard choices. </i>
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----
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'''Vorpal:''' "Hmmm...?" Vorpal turns her head slowly, as if reluctant to leave whatever thoughts she had been mulling over in her mind. Then she seems to refocus once again, and sits a little straighter.
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"Oh, them", she begins and wipes a stray strand of hair back from her face. "I'm not all that sure if I can truly call them ''friends''. The prince - Alex - would probably be quick to declare us as such, but you'll have to forgive the silly boy. His antics are heart-warming, but usually all too hasty. Then there is the Dark Angel -" And at this point, she almost chortles. "Don't even let me get started on the Dark Angel. The two of us cannot even agree which Elemental Pole lies to the North without bickering about it first."
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"The skypirate, Cael." She pauses, and now she grows sober and oddly... intense. "I have no idea why he has chosen to join us", she finally confesses with a shrug. "A typical Quicksilver Falcon, from what I have heard. You cannot make a head or tail of what it is he truly wants." Spreading her arms, she makes a vague sweep of hand across the entire solarium. "But he and his ship have their uses, so I don't mind his presence, either."
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"So, to put it short, I'm currently living with a hyperactive little brother, a twin sister I cannot stand, and a mystery man who just somehow made his way in. Oh, and then there is the family dog, too, but we don't like each other much."
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'' - On the merry fellowship.''
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----
 +
 +
<b>Rain of Unspoken Words:</b> Rain gives a start as the Dark Angel pops up and catches her red-handed-- or soft footed, as the case may be. With a snap of her fingers a sheaf of paper appears in her hand and she hands the Dark Angel her Official Slave of the Lover identification papers, complete with group photo of Rain, Feral, and the Lover in a most compromising position and signed by the Lover-- supposedly.
 +
 +
'' - A Faerie's introduction.''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
"I wanna go back home. The North sucks."
 +
 +
<i> - Selina, touring the industrial district of the Boil</i>
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
"But anyway...! Following you into the city I can do. Does it transform into a warstrider?"
 +
 +
'' - Rain of Unspoken Words, on the Boil.''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
'''Rain of Unspoken Words:''' Rain watches the Lunar storm off to do much the same thing Feral had done: go fight an army alone. "Yes m'angel! That's what I love about you humans-- twenty minutes and we're off to war!"
 +
 +
''- More Rain!''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
'''Rain of Unspoken Words:''' Rain makes a show of thinking for a moment, tapping a finger on her chin... "Do something? I have two kinds of something to choose from, lil'one. There's the illusion kind where I turn this place into a temple..." she pauses, then smiles wickedly. "...and then there's the wholesale slaughter kind, where I turn this place into a graveyard."
 +
 +
''- .. and more!''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
"We seem to be having some... Technical difficulties..."
 +
 +
''- Rain, right after turning the House of Heavenly Pleasures into a Yozi-Worshipping temple instead of a Immaculate One!''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
 +
<b>Nemessary</b>: There's one on the back, taller, stronger.
 +
 +
"Kanti, aren't you? The Vestal's little whore?"
 +
 +
From within the cloak, four weapon-arms come out, soulsteel at the tips of each. On his hand, a daiklave. Within the cloak, his eyes burn a metallic hue "She makes whores. This was made by the Celebrant, Kanti. She makes warriors. Prepare to die."
 +
 +
Too many on the way, though. Soon... she will either die by them, or him.
 +
 +
<b>Kanti</b>: Kanti raises the spear in an easy arc as she weaves amongst the incense dulled blows of the Black Cloaks, deflecting the one strike that might injure her.
 +
 +
The flames roll off her, lapping around the men surrounding her, the air heavy with incense and heavenly scents, then she leaps with a blast of flame, spinning in the air, immaculate robes flowing behind her.
 +
 +
She lands with twin iris bursts before him, and then she blurs and changes, living though all the lives of her soul. <br>
 +
First she is a young girl, barely out of her 10th summer and she hits him.<br>
 +
Then she is an old man, a sailor from the West, and he hits him.<br>
 +
Next, a farmer from the realm can be seen, and he hits him.<br>
 +
An air aspected girl, wreathed in ice, and she hits him.<br>
 +
An earth aspected woman, elderly, toughened, and she hits him.<br>
 +
A merchant from Halta, clad in fine silks, and he hits him.<br>
 +
And then standing in their place, Kanti hits him too.
 +
 +
"I am Her's, yes, but I was not made by Her."
 +
 +
'' - Kantiness!''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
"Vorpal darling, I hope this message finds you in good spirits! We have a little trouble here: the General has appeared outside of the Boil with an army. He wants my head, and Moon's -- our ploy has worked. Unless you are all ''quite'' occupied, I am wondering if it would be possible for you to lend us any assistance? I'm fairly sure he has only one other deathknight with him. We have an opprotunity to destroy a good part of the Bishop's forces (and one or two of his precious deathknights) piecemeal, but I would want at least you present to make sure the destruction is complete. We're meeting with the locals to arrange something unpleasant for the dear boy. Ask Cael to reply on the feasibility as soon as possible, yes? Will follow up with more messages as the situation updates, and possible arrangements for insertion into hostile territory and pickup by '''''moi'''''. Looking forward to your reply Vorpy!"
 +
 +
'' - If there was ever a chibi-Selina moment, this is it!( Said as an Infallible Messenger! )''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
'''Seventh Moon:''' His jaw hung to his face only by straps of skin, but sinew and tendons were crawling back into place and pulling his face back into proper order. It was an irritation at best, slowing him just enough for the fleshy-things around him to tear through the rest of the death-scented creatures.
 +
 +
Seventh Moon cast about, desperate for something, ''anything'' more to kill, his tattered jaw swinging as his head turned. And he saw them, smelt them. The caged ones, their insanity ripe in the air. ''They'' could be killed.
 +
 +
''And'' they were cats.
 +
 +
'' - Moon, about to kill some Jade Lions''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
"Rar! People are food!"
 +
 +
'' - What chibi-Selina would say!''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
'''Seventh Moon:''' Alright, ''that'' was a little much.
 +
 +
'''''"Fuck." ''''' He grimaced as the Dark Angel began her little snack, turning his head away. And he'd let those lips get around him? "Yeah, ya mind doin' that around'a fuckin' corner or somethin'?"
 +
 +
'' - Moon's reaction to the whole 'eating people' deal!''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
'''Selina de Windia:''' Selina sheers out of line, taking to the air suddenly as she feels a distinct...wrongness, veering to one side over a building, in another neighborhood, down another street.
 +
 +
''What is this? How fearsome, that valley of terror... ''
 +
 +
Two demons are there, a lion and a whirlwind with limbs occasionally flailing at any mortal who comes too close. Two nemissaries attend them, Black Cloaks surround them.
 +
 +
''There is a demon there, a hunter, who is hunting. ''
 +
 +
Marching toward the same destination Selina was going, fighting their way their. The skirmish line of workers breaks, falling back.
 +
 +
''There are none who hear that noise and fail to flee. ''
 +
 +
Selina swoops in on them, scythe biting through two of the black cloaks, the rest scattering at the onslaught of the Dark Angel. The demons turn, at bay, and the nemissaries move to the sides.
 +
 +
''What do hunters have to fear? ''
 +
 +
The nemissaries charge as one, the Teodozji moves in behind them, as the Tomescu hangs back.
 +
 +
''Fear does not exist within a hunter's heart''
 +
 +
Stepping to one side, Selina catches the sword hand of one nemissary with her free one, crushing it, ripping the sword away from the hand-less arm, drawing back to sweep it through the other nemissary's neck as the two converge on her in a blurred motion, following up her stroke to take the other in the same place before it can move off.
 +
 +
''However, those that would test god will bear the sin... ''
 +
 +
Then the lion leaps. Then Selina disappates into shadow, moving about the lion as it leaps through the darkness, forming into her familiar shape back and to one side of the beast.
 +
 +
''I materialize from the depths of the night''
 +
 +
She stabs with the nemissary's sword, and the workers swarm the black cloaks, overbearing them, overbearing what's left of the nemissaries.
 +
 +
''No kind of fear has a place within me''
 +
 +
Howling as Selina runs the sword up it's back, thrusting it home in the base of the demon's neck, the lion turns.
 +
 +
''Even when the ever-green oak surges within the storm''
 +
 +
And meets the tiny red eyes of Chimes of Nothing as he drinks its death in with the Dark Angel's slashing stroke across the demon's face.
 +
 +
''Even when the birds cry noisily''
 +
 +
Selina turns. The Tomescu falls back...
 +
 +
''The moon is a certainty''
 +
 +
Selina advances. The Tomescu flees, up the street, toward where it may meet reinforcements. The Windian spreads her wings and takes to the air, swooping after the cloud-demon.
 +
 +
''And the moonlight is still faint. ''
 +
 +
She gains speed, catching up on the cloud demon. A insectile limb with a thin-bladed axe flashes out at her as she tries to stoop down on the thing, Selina loses some of her speed, falling back a few meters, as both of them race along the other road to the Red Lantern district.
 +
 +
''Soon, that light will be gone as well. ''
 +
 +
Buildings rush past as they move through weaving streets, leaving the corpses of the battle and the victors behind, and Selina prepares to dive on it again, putting away Angeldust, drawing her daiklave.
 +
 +
''There is a voice from there''
 +
 +
She dives, Dreamshard slides past a second frantic defense. Bites into demonic essence beneath the clouds.
 +
 +
''A voice that calls me''
 +
 +
The weapon plunges home as she sweeps down on the Tomescu not far from their destination, and life winks out of the cloud-arsenal.
 +
 +
''Soon, the light of day will be lost as well''
 +
 +
She doesn't stop moving even with her strike, landing hard, pulling the weapon out and leaping forward, taking to the air once more. Soon, in moments, she will see the Red Lantern.
 +
 +
''Fate has spurred you on. ''
 +
 +
'' - A monster from Nexus, hunting on the Boil!''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
'''Alexsei: ''' In a display of brilliant light, the prince takes down another flock of the pitiful cherubims, sending more of them towards the rest that should never have been disturbed. Once more, his heart bleeds as Ryshassa lets herself become overcome by the hungry creatures, yet protects him with the caduceus... His eyes fill with grief as flashes of her pained face show between the flurry of twisted wings and limbs, and yet her grip on his weapon remains...
 +
 +
He stares at his wife for a feww fleeting moments, her conviction keeping her from harming these children, her compassion so strong she would rather let them devour her flesh rather than having them come to harm. He blood fall to the ground, and he realizes he is wathing as they are slowly draining her life away from her, little by little. Her blood hit the ground, and each single crimson drop is like a piece of his soul that is torn away from him...
 +
 +
But he would not let this happen.
 +
 +
''So be it. ''
 +
 +
One last glance, and he loosens his grip on Epilogue, leaving the Starmetal weapon in Ryshassa's hands. One last lingering gaze at her... And then he turns away, facing the massing zombies.
 +
 +
He walks, slowly and deliberately, right into the fray. He walks among them, letting them surround him, offering himself as a target to their pained, twisted little bodies.
 +
 +
"I. will. not. let. you. have her."
 +
 +
His fists unclench and open, his arms slowly executing a fluid motion that seem to leave a blur of violet essence as they move.
 +
 +
'''"YOU WILL NOT HAVE THEM!" '''
 +
 +
The motion raise in intensity, the movements looking like a dance as he gathers essence about him, spiralling patterns of dark violet surrounding him like a great gate as he loses himself in his performance. As the mournful dance comes to its culminating conclusion, he traces the sign of endings in front of him, bringing both his open palms forward as he releases the gathered essence, using his body as a conduit for the powerful power of endings.
 +
 +
'''"Let the Great Scythe of Saturn bring you rest, pained souls! May Lethe greet you in its warm embrace!!" '''
 +
 +
''-The Gatekeeper's determination!^_^ Hmmm, for some reason looked so much better in bro's red color O.o''
 +
 +
----
 +
 +
* - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]

Revision as of 02:56, 28 October 2005

A place to remember quotable and memorable moments!

Funny, Dramatic, Tragic, absurd... what one finds interesting! ^.^

I could recall a couple off the top of my head - _please_ paste here any you guys might like - Do remember I have been too scatterbrained lately and from this will go write more paragraphs-long stuff on the game and more antagonist and protagonist sheets, so for the love of the chibi UCS, help me here! =^..^=

Quoteness!

"Danger need only go so far as perception to be enjoyable, Alex," he smiles at the prince "Mmm... there are women you'll meet whose voice and nature make it seem as though they would eat you alive and make you savor every moment of it..." There is a glance towards Selina as he speaks, deliberate and gauging, yet he makes no other implications towards her. "These, you'll find too, often enjoy being prey as much as predator and if you ever need violence for your thrills, seek it from them."

"Then there are those like miss Lilth," a nod of his head and a teasing smile. "Who are frightening because you can never be certain if their smile means they are mildly irritated or if they are envisioning ripping out your spine and bludgeoning you to death with it."

- Domiel Winterwing, on Vorpal taking a sword to dinner and killing a wall with it

"Why the bludgeon part?" Vorpal asks, and although she seems outwardly nonplussed at Gasper's words, in the inside she is maintaining a careful control over her face, to keep her lips from curling upwards. "I usually just leave them to wither - it lasts longer that way."

- Vorpy’s Reply


"Simple truth in that, Alex darling: Abyssal women are bitchy. We love picking at other people, and each other. It's like our moonblood is on all month." She chuckles, looking at the rest of them for a moment, then stops. "And people like the Vestal? Well, they're freaks."

- Selina, and truer words were never spoken

The Hierophant gestures, and at his gesture the two sacks of Essence around him cross over to the world of flesh, gathering bodies of Essence to appear as Blood-Soaked, carnivorous Apes. "In my care to be diplomatic, I have been to gentle on my actions. I have turned the other cheek TOO OFTEN today. Murder and horror are HOLY things, and I have not been devout enough. We must have FAITH in horror, my creatures. It elevates us. Even as we posses a spark of dreaded life in us, when we destroy for our master, we are cleansed. The Shining One loves us best when we kill everything we see. Kill kill kill kill KILL! KILLING is our PRAYER."

His weapon, Nether Serpent, points to the beautiful albino as it breaks as a proper Serpent-Sting Staff,

"Pale Angel...?"

"Let us pray."

- The Hierophant Clad in the Skin of Deceivers. Fanaticism has never been so pure.

And suddenly... it ends.

The Nemessaries all fallen, the monks all fallen, their leader, the Blade, fallen.

For a moment, all is silence, for a moment, time stops. Adrenaline cools down.

And then... inside the Deathknights...

Inside your minds... inside your souls... inside your very virtues and desires... they laugh! A knot on your stomach, on your throat, on your eyes and on your soul. Oblivion pours forth from your hearts and purrs obcenities on your ear. They laugh at you, at your wants and desires. They show how it is nothing to them. Nothing compared to their own desires, those that guide your fates, that caress your true names and and souls.

Inside Vorpal’s heart, the lovers wither and die, convulsing sickly for an eternity, because she dared to look upon them. To admire them. To dream of them. Her attention and her love was their undoing, and all she can do is watch as these sweet figures burn under the oblivion that washes from her...

Inside Selina’s heart, she sees her child, hugs him tightly... and sees as her love burns his skin, as her feathers burn his soul, sees as he crumbles to ash and dust on her hands... just like the images of her family, the blood on her hands, the blood of them all on her hands...

And so, the laugh is gone, echoing hollowy on your souls, leaving only the barreness of your wombs and souls and the pointlessness of your desires now... as you are servants of Oblivion. Tools for the ultimate death, shaped as the women you once were, and no more.

- Resonance is happy family fun!

Kanti stops her dance at the Vestal's request, trembling softly with the effort and emotion of at all as she walks towards the Vestal, careful footsteps, a trail of iris blossoms behind her...

And then her mistress' distress...a cold look at the Crusader for annoying her so, quickly averted in fear...then they went...the cold one and the abombination....

Leaving her with the mistress ... she kneeled slowly, a tremble filling her body...so close now...to the one that did this too her. Took her beauty and remade it to her own liking, inflicted such hurts on her just to hear her screams...and yet...

She rested her head on the Vestals lap ...and yet..for one brief instant, she was here and nothing else mattered, just that she with the Vestal and the Vestal loved her...

"I....your servants have been ...good to m mistress....thank you .... but...." Kanti trailed off...

"But?" The Vestal asked, one hand trailing down Kanti's cheek as she trembled slightly..

"...I missed you, mistress" spoken as the merest whisper...why she missed her, she did not know...had hated every instant with her....but....how could she not love her?

Her soft hand caressing Kanti, she lowered her face, whispering, "I missed you too."

"I will be sure to make up for all that time... specially with how you look now... so beautiful. The robes fit you, Kanti... did you like my gift? How they fit who you are now?"

No No No! NO! She hated them, her weakness, her pain, woven into ....such a shape...for her mistress' pleasure...

And so she smiled up at the vestal and her soft carresses "I did yes...thank you Mistress ... for such a wonderful gift."

How could she say such things...how could such things fall from her lips... She shivered again, and hated herself for it.

She held Kanti's face on both hands, smiling, "I am glad. Very glad, my pretty."

"Promise me. Promise me you will always keep them, never let them be taken away or thrown away... and that you will remember me in their whispers. Promise me..."

"I will mistress ...I will" she whispers softly, looking up at the Vestal, gazing into her eyes, loosing herself in them...

Keep them with fond memories.

Keep them until the day I kill you.

Keep them forever.

Keep them and remember you.


- Too cool. Just too cool!

The Vestal touches Kanti, closing her eyes at the healing... "Like that... like that..." She smiles, kissing Kanti. "It hurt real bad. They cowardly pinned your mistress down, while a big, unwashed brute punched my back. He wanted to break me... wanted to break me, Kanti. They got close to it, too..."

She purrs, "And they are around here now. They broke into one of our garrisons, and have been quite... noisy."

Kanti shudders halfway between revulsion and exstacy as she is kissed.

She...

She...can be ...hurt....

She can be killed...

...why does that thought fill me with terror?

"What is it you wish me to do to them, mistress?"

- Ditto

The dinner ends peacefully after that, the almost smile of the Pale Angel crowning it. The conversation goes on, and soon they are done, and the night continues.... the performer takes them around, out of the restaurant and on to the theather, to watch the heart-felt rendition of 'The Chime of the Crystal Rose,' a moving romantic opera that tells the tell of star-crossed lovers over coming adversity to find happiness.

"It was either this or "The Bloody Path of the Anathema-Queen"," Domeil estates, "which I hear is much better, but hardly seems appropriate under the circumstances."

- Domiel, to lighten the mood!

"... which was about the time they asked me to leave town," Domiel finishes as the carriage rolls to a stop, bringing an end to the story of his own experience with star-crossed lovers, human and Rhaksha just as the play had featured, in a little village to the south. "Really rather rude of them, I thought, since I wasn't even the one who slept with the girl and everything ended happily enough. Or at least I'd like to assume they did, after the pair ran off. It's always hard to tell, with my cousins..."

- Same

Moving off from the group, Selina makes her way down the cobblestone streets of the capital's noble district, thinking to herself of times long past.

Too long past.

When she lived here, when she learned here, when Windia was still to be her city. No more. Not since her abominable acts.

Who rules it now, the Durants?

We shall see.

She passes her old manse, stopped for a few minutes to look on it before continuing, remembering the days before any of it came to pass, before she was Accursed. Before she became the Kinslayer. Before she sold her name to the dead gods.

None of that...really mattered now, she supposed. It was over and done with. Nothing she could do.

The Windian turned once she got to the graveyard of Windia's great, no longer caring if someone marked her, saw through her disguise. Let them come.

Let them all come. She thought, walking past the gates after a nod to the gatekeeper. Not many were here today, in the wake of that little invasion, no one wanted to be around more death. I am not the helpless little girl I was once.

She came at last to the graves of her parents. Weathered slightly, in the intervening years. Over a decade of weathering. No children though.

They say that the de Windia family died that day. That the parents were slain and the children, lost to the world. Hard turquoise eyes looked at the ornate headstones, trying to bore through them, through the earth and see what she had not for so long. Hard turquoise eyes softened, as she remembered. Regretted. Too late, perhaps, but regret is not a creature of reality.

All...but one.

She was the last.

- Selina Miriana De Windia, an exposition

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... shitting 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. "Excuse me," the boy says, "Could you kindly let go of my jailor?"

"You should have been taken care of already...." Alabaster hisses, hands.

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."

"I have seen my home razed." He replies, eyes half-closed. "I have held my father as he died, have seen my mother bleeding on the floor of her own entrance hall. I have burned their bodies. I am not going to despair before your god. I am going to kill it." As he says so, his right hand comes out of the white cloak, brandishing the golden sword on his hand, the gleam of the sunset around him crackling and roaring....

- Alabaster, Obsidian, Alexander, and the Fall of an Angel. One of the few times Alex did something well!

"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. "Learn. Your. Place!"

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 borrowed body, making it fall, heavily, on the ground....

- Selina, right after, and the fall of Obsidian

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."

Not wasting a breath, He rushes towards Vorpal, taking her body on the ground...

My jailor. Holding the key to my freedom...

The one to take me to a mistress of darkness, the one to take me to damnation. A prize, a... a thing.

The one that saved me.

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...."

- Alex and a very very painful healing.

Putting the results of her last attack together with what the Lunar just managed to do made the assassin come to her decision.

So, hitting him doesn't work?

Hopping a step backward from the advancing statue, Selina leaps into air with a tremendous push of her legs right as her feet return to the ground, up and away from the statue. As she streaks into the heavens with her aura burning about her form, she whips Dreamshard around to her front, pointing at the sky. The weapon's blade seems to flicker with an odd radiance, as if all the dreams of the world lay hidden within.

"Strike with all your power, and you cannot touch me." She calls down at her opponent, wings making a single beat as her weapon's glow becomes brighter, almost audiable. As if a hundred children are screaming at once. Shrieking crying laughing, dreams and nightmares bending under her will as she points the weapon down at her opponent. "I am invincible, I am immortal! You cannot harm me." Her voice echos down below.

And then the wyld energy inside the daiklave focuses...on somewhere. Inside the statue. Warping, twisting, changing. The dreams of a hundred fae shrieking into the statue's very being for a split moment, before guttering out.

- The 'invincible void princess' moment^_^

He trembles.

He knew this would be coming, no death before, certain death now... he lifts his face tentatively, lifts his eyes tentatively... he had been born to rule, but before Vorpal, was just as a puppy, yet... not tested battle prowess, no royal station, nothing mattered under that gaze... and now, he was too scared to even move away... "A-are... are you... mad, m-milady?"

He trembles.

He knew this would be coming, no death before, certain death now... he lifts his face tentatively, lifts his eyes tentatively... he had been born to rule, but before Vorpal, was just as a puppy, yet... not tested battle prowess, no royal station, nothing mattered under that gaze... and now, he was too scared to even move away... "A-are... are you... mad, m-milady?"

- Alexander, after his Klutzyness had him fall between Vorpal's legs, on a chemise and nothing else...

Letting go of Alex's hair, Vorpal slides her hand downwards, the very tips of her fingers stroking the prince's chin, tracing the smooth, beautiful arch of his face down to his jaw. There her hand lingers, and she lifts his head gently upwards, past the flat stomach and the ample bosom, past the milky white throat, all the way up to her face and the eyes that glow there with all the blazing, scorching heat of hellfire.

"No", she replies, and her kind, quiet words echo with the thundering boom of war drums. Flowers placed onto gravestones wilt away, leaves fall from the trees, wives give birth to stillborn babies. "Not at all."

- Vorpy... someone you should never anger of embarass.

Tee-hee-hee!

The chamber is silent, save for an occasional rustle of a new page being turned over and the laborous, halting breathing of Vorpal deFay as she struggles... Not against her burning wounds, not against the feverish visions that had accompanied them, but against a foe so devious that even the infamous Pale Angel has trouble at holding it at bay.

She twists and she writhes atop the sheets of her bed, heedless of the stabs pain coming from her wounds with each move. Her hair is in disarray, her legs are entwined around each other, her hands are clasped convulsively around the covers of the book which the prince had given her. Her eyes, usually so red and frightening, now gobble up a line after line of the romantic prose written onto those pages. A hot and healthy blush glowing on her white cheeks, she struggles and she fights, but she cannot hold an occasional laugh and a gleeful giggle from bubbling up to the surface from the deepest recesses of her soul.

Tee-hee-hee!

Ooh, it had been so long since she had had a chance for such luxury! After weeks of nothing but swords and battles and blood and death and scantily-clad harlots strutting their wares at her, she had missed an opportunity to lower her guard even for a moment...

- ... Except, you know, when she is being like this! Then she is cute!

Vorpal instinctively props a hand against the wall for support as the ship begins its ascend. She is a little at loss with Calisara's intentions at first, but then the smug smile returns to her lips. "Be my guest, then."

Sobering, she turns back towards the corridor, her Essence-sharpened senses probing for the reactions and the location of the intruders. The gleam in her eyes, however, remains as she states: "All right... from this point on, Zephyr Falcon will be a ghost ship."

She pauses, inhales deeply, and then begins to speak, her voice suddenly inhumane and otherworldy. It is like an invisible stream of darkness pouring gently forth from her mouth, her words tiny islands of coldest ice floating atop black waves.

"Ahhhh",

she intones in an achingly sultry tone, sending her voice drifting down the corridor like cold fog, where the intruders are sure to hear it.

"Sweet, fresh blood, and so many warm bodies... My little slave outdid himself this time. The trap never fails."

Every sentence that leaves her mouth is repeated by a chorus of fading echoes, like a thousand damned souls speaking in unison. Her hand quickly signaling for Calisara to begin the other task, she chuckles, her voice conjuring up images that are a macabre combination of the coldest nightmares and the darkest, wildest fantasies that have ever tickled the loins of a man.

"Come, come, little sweetlings. I thirst..."

The lights dim. The doors begin to rattle. And then, they run to Vorpal, seeing nothing but her dark sillhouette... and hearing. And hearing her words, almost stopping their hearts, whispering ice in their souls.

And then, in the dark corridor, they scream.

And then, from the dark corridor, they run. They run like the Ebon Dragon himself was after them.

They run, because any price for failure would not be worse than dealing with that demon!

- Vorpal being... scary. They ended up falling into a Lake the Zephyr was parked above of.

"We could see if there were any mercenary companies that haven't yet found a suitable employer around", Vorpal suggests even as her eyes skim over the beginnings of the story written to the book. "I have some friends among them, and most of them believe I am but a Ghost-Blooded."

She brushes absently a few strands of her hair over her shoulder. "How about you, skypirate? Do you have any colleagues who would be interested in a bit of military booty?"

Cael steps forward a little, closer to the Pince, subtly offering support and reassurance. His eyes run over her body once more at that, a faint twinkle in his eye. Military Booty...

- Vorpal with a little bit of Cael at the end. I wonder if Arcy ever noticed how dirty that sounded... Vorpy the prostitute and Cael the pimp!

Vorpal: "You know, wordsmith", she begins after a long stretch of silence. "There is something I want to ask."

Cael: Cael turns to the pale angel, looks into the pale flames about her. "Yes?"

Vorpal: "How do you keep all that white clean?"

Cael: "Magic."

- After the fight with the Celebrant, Vorpal covered in blood and dirt, Alex covered in his wounds, and Cael... pristine.

Father of Crows: "Something with a mask. Something dead? We only see dead things around..."

"Dead things are like lobsters. Remember the restaurant? Always think of lobsters. Always think of food. We are predators, we have to think of food! You break the hsell. Within, tender, tender meat... tender like the flesh of a god, tender like the soul of a man... you break it, and eat. Bite and gnaw until it is gone. Just like a lobster. Just think of lobsters. We need to do it. We are hunters. Hunters need lobsters. NEED it!"

Hand hitting one another, fingers on his lips as he thinks of flavor... then he stops, and the eyesless silhouette looks down. "Make it. As long as they aren't lobsters. The lobsters are mine. You go kill some dead things and gnaw on what comes out. But not on my lobsters."

Seventh Moon: Sima Sweet Thighs

The hound rolled it's pale eyes until the blue vanished and only pure white remained. Above him, the seven moons rolled as well, until seven eyes stared disgustedly at the Father.

How the fuck do ya pick people like this, goddess? Do ya just throw a rock and see who ya nail?

This was getting ridiculous. This was always ridiculous, but this time it was even worse.

"Yeah, yeah, great. You can have all the fuckin' lobsters you want. Help me out and I'll even get ya some dipping sauce."

- The insanity of Moon's mentor. Seafood!

Frostwallow: It does not take long before seeing the sigil of Mars, the spear and shield, shining on crimson paint under the morning sun. Soon enough in the morning... and the stores mostly empty, with only those who wake up so early, so different of the base part, where bussiness need to be conducted as soon as sun rises. The smell of iron fills the air, coming from the constant hammering on the inside...

And the smell of mold comes from behind, from the bookstore just accross the street, the carefully-transcribed books with leathery covers there, calling, alluringly... and Vorpal stands there, between two sides of her life.

Vorpal: Oh, damn.

She halts, the dark folds of her cloak coming to a rest around her. Shifting her weight to one foot, she places one hand to her hip and lifts the other to tuck her hair better in place under her hood. Idly she glances between her choices, first left, then right, then back to the left again...

I hate it when this happens.

Eventually, she makes her decision.

Her cloak once again whisking around her legs, the black hilt of her heavy claymore jutting over her shoulder, the Ghost-Blooded turns and marches without hesitation... into the bookstore.

- The Pale Angel's hard choices.

Vorpal: "Hmmm...?" Vorpal turns her head slowly, as if reluctant to leave whatever thoughts she had been mulling over in her mind. Then she seems to refocus once again, and sits a little straighter.

"Oh, them", she begins and wipes a stray strand of hair back from her face. "I'm not all that sure if I can truly call them friends. The prince - Alex - would probably be quick to declare us as such, but you'll have to forgive the silly boy. His antics are heart-warming, but usually all too hasty. Then there is the Dark Angel -" And at this point, she almost chortles. "Don't even let me get started on the Dark Angel. The two of us cannot even agree which Elemental Pole lies to the North without bickering about it first."

"The skypirate, Cael." She pauses, and now she grows sober and oddly... intense. "I have no idea why he has chosen to join us", she finally confesses with a shrug. "A typical Quicksilver Falcon, from what I have heard. You cannot make a head or tail of what it is he truly wants." Spreading her arms, she makes a vague sweep of hand across the entire solarium. "But he and his ship have their uses, so I don't mind his presence, either."

"So, to put it short, I'm currently living with a hyperactive little brother, a twin sister I cannot stand, and a mystery man who just somehow made his way in. Oh, and then there is the family dog, too, but we don't like each other much."

- On the merry fellowship.

Rain of Unspoken Words: Rain gives a start as the Dark Angel pops up and catches her red-handed-- or soft footed, as the case may be. With a snap of her fingers a sheaf of paper appears in her hand and she hands the Dark Angel her Official Slave of the Lover identification papers, complete with group photo of Rain, Feral, and the Lover in a most compromising position and signed by the Lover-- supposedly.

- A Faerie's introduction.

"I wanna go back home. The North sucks."

- Selina, touring the industrial district of the Boil

"But anyway...! Following you into the city I can do. Does it transform into a warstrider?"

- Rain of Unspoken Words, on the Boil.

Rain of Unspoken Words: Rain watches the Lunar storm off to do much the same thing Feral had done: go fight an army alone. "Yes m'angel! That's what I love about you humans-- twenty minutes and we're off to war!"

- More Rain!

Rain of Unspoken Words: Rain makes a show of thinking for a moment, tapping a finger on her chin... "Do something? I have two kinds of something to choose from, lil'one. There's the illusion kind where I turn this place into a temple..." she pauses, then smiles wickedly. "...and then there's the wholesale slaughter kind, where I turn this place into a graveyard."

- .. and more!

"We seem to be having some... Technical difficulties..."

- Rain, right after turning the House of Heavenly Pleasures into a Yozi-Worshipping temple instead of a Immaculate One!


Nemessary: There's one on the back, taller, stronger.

"Kanti, aren't you? The Vestal's little whore?"

From within the cloak, four weapon-arms come out, soulsteel at the tips of each. On his hand, a daiklave. Within the cloak, his eyes burn a metallic hue "She makes whores. This was made by the Celebrant, Kanti. She makes warriors. Prepare to die."

Too many on the way, though. Soon... she will either die by them, or him.

Kanti: Kanti raises the spear in an easy arc as she weaves amongst the incense dulled blows of the Black Cloaks, deflecting the one strike that might injure her.

The flames roll off her, lapping around the men surrounding her, the air heavy with incense and heavenly scents, then she leaps with a blast of flame, spinning in the air, immaculate robes flowing behind her.

She lands with twin iris bursts before him, and then she blurs and changes, living though all the lives of her soul.
First she is a young girl, barely out of her 10th summer and she hits him.
Then she is an old man, a sailor from the West, and he hits him.
Next, a farmer from the realm can be seen, and he hits him.
An air aspected girl, wreathed in ice, and she hits him.
An earth aspected woman, elderly, toughened, and she hits him.
A merchant from Halta, clad in fine silks, and he hits him.
And then standing in their place, Kanti hits him too.

"I am Her's, yes, but I was not made by Her."

- Kantiness!

"Vorpal darling, I hope this message finds you in good spirits! We have a little trouble here: the General has appeared outside of the Boil with an army. He wants my head, and Moon's -- our ploy has worked. Unless you are all quite occupied, I am wondering if it would be possible for you to lend us any assistance? I'm fairly sure he has only one other deathknight with him. We have an opprotunity to destroy a good part of the Bishop's forces (and one or two of his precious deathknights) piecemeal, but I would want at least you present to make sure the destruction is complete. We're meeting with the locals to arrange something unpleasant for the dear boy. Ask Cael to reply on the feasibility as soon as possible, yes? Will follow up with more messages as the situation updates, and possible arrangements for insertion into hostile territory and pickup by moi. Looking forward to your reply Vorpy!"

- If there was ever a chibi-Selina moment, this is it!( Said as an Infallible Messenger! )

Seventh Moon: His jaw hung to his face only by straps of skin, but sinew and tendons were crawling back into place and pulling his face back into proper order. It was an irritation at best, slowing him just enough for the fleshy-things around him to tear through the rest of the death-scented creatures.

Seventh Moon cast about, desperate for something, anything more to kill, his tattered jaw swinging as his head turned. And he saw them, smelt them. The caged ones, their insanity ripe in the air. They could be killed.

And they were cats.

- Moon, about to kill some Jade Lions

"Rar! People are food!"

- What chibi-Selina would say!

Seventh Moon: Alright, that was a little much.

"Fuck." He grimaced as the Dark Angel began her little snack, turning his head away. And he'd let those lips get around him? "Yeah, ya mind doin' that around'a fuckin' corner or somethin'?"

- Moon's reaction to the whole 'eating people' deal!

Selina de Windia: Selina sheers out of line, taking to the air suddenly as she feels a distinct...wrongness, veering to one side over a building, in another neighborhood, down another street.

What is this? How fearsome, that valley of terror...

Two demons are there, a lion and a whirlwind with limbs occasionally flailing at any mortal who comes too close. Two nemissaries attend them, Black Cloaks surround them.

There is a demon there, a hunter, who is hunting.

Marching toward the same destination Selina was going, fighting their way their. The skirmish line of workers breaks, falling back.

There are none who hear that noise and fail to flee.

Selina swoops in on them, scythe biting through two of the black cloaks, the rest scattering at the onslaught of the Dark Angel. The demons turn, at bay, and the nemissaries move to the sides.

What do hunters have to fear?

The nemissaries charge as one, the Teodozji moves in behind them, as the Tomescu hangs back.

Fear does not exist within a hunter's heart

Stepping to one side, Selina catches the sword hand of one nemissary with her free one, crushing it, ripping the sword away from the hand-less arm, drawing back to sweep it through the other nemissary's neck as the two converge on her in a blurred motion, following up her stroke to take the other in the same place before it can move off.

However, those that would test god will bear the sin...

Then the lion leaps. Then Selina disappates into shadow, moving about the lion as it leaps through the darkness, forming into her familiar shape back and to one side of the beast.

I materialize from the depths of the night

She stabs with the nemissary's sword, and the workers swarm the black cloaks, overbearing them, overbearing what's left of the nemissaries.

No kind of fear has a place within me

Howling as Selina runs the sword up it's back, thrusting it home in the base of the demon's neck, the lion turns.

Even when the ever-green oak surges within the storm

And meets the tiny red eyes of Chimes of Nothing as he drinks its death in with the Dark Angel's slashing stroke across the demon's face.

Even when the birds cry noisily

Selina turns. The Tomescu falls back...

The moon is a certainty

Selina advances. The Tomescu flees, up the street, toward where it may meet reinforcements. The Windian spreads her wings and takes to the air, swooping after the cloud-demon.

And the moonlight is still faint.

She gains speed, catching up on the cloud demon. A insectile limb with a thin-bladed axe flashes out at her as she tries to stoop down on the thing, Selina loses some of her speed, falling back a few meters, as both of them race along the other road to the Red Lantern district.

Soon, that light will be gone as well.

Buildings rush past as they move through weaving streets, leaving the corpses of the battle and the victors behind, and Selina prepares to dive on it again, putting away Angeldust, drawing her daiklave.

There is a voice from there

She dives, Dreamshard slides past a second frantic defense. Bites into demonic essence beneath the clouds.

A voice that calls me

The weapon plunges home as she sweeps down on the Tomescu not far from their destination, and life winks out of the cloud-arsenal.

Soon, the light of day will be lost as well

She doesn't stop moving even with her strike, landing hard, pulling the weapon out and leaping forward, taking to the air once more. Soon, in moments, she will see the Red Lantern.

Fate has spurred you on.

- A monster from Nexus, hunting on the Boil!

Alexsei: In a display of brilliant light, the prince takes down another flock of the pitiful cherubims, sending more of them towards the rest that should never have been disturbed. Once more, his heart bleeds as Ryshassa lets herself become overcome by the hungry creatures, yet protects him with the caduceus... His eyes fill with grief as flashes of her pained face show between the flurry of twisted wings and limbs, and yet her grip on his weapon remains...

He stares at his wife for a feww fleeting moments, her conviction keeping her from harming these children, her compassion so strong she would rather let them devour her flesh rather than having them come to harm. He blood fall to the ground, and he realizes he is wathing as they are slowly draining her life away from her, little by little. Her blood hit the ground, and each single crimson drop is like a piece of his soul that is torn away from him...

But he would not let this happen.

So be it.

One last glance, and he loosens his grip on Epilogue, leaving the Starmetal weapon in Ryshassa's hands. One last lingering gaze at her... And then he turns away, facing the massing zombies.

He walks, slowly and deliberately, right into the fray. He walks among them, letting them surround him, offering himself as a target to their pained, twisted little bodies.

"I. will. not. let. you. have her."

His fists unclench and open, his arms slowly executing a fluid motion that seem to leave a blur of violet essence as they move.

"YOU WILL NOT HAVE THEM!"

The motion raise in intensity, the movements looking like a dance as he gathers essence about him, spiralling patterns of dark violet surrounding him like a great gate as he loses himself in his performance. As the mournful dance comes to its culminating conclusion, he traces the sign of endings in front of him, bringing both his open palms forward as he releases the gathered essence, using his body as a conduit for the powerful power of endings.

"Let the Great Scythe of Saturn bring you rest, pained souls! May Lethe greet you in its warm embrace!!"

-The Gatekeeper's determination!^_^ Hmmm, for some reason looked so much better in bro's red color O.o

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