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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FourthMovement|Fourth Movement]]
| + | #REDIRECT [[ADanceOfAngels]] |
| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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| − | == The Huntress of Shadows and Sin ==
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| − | Few minutes have passed.... the graveyard blasted to ashes, the zombies scattered by fist and arrow. It had been barely half an hour since the revolution had begun, and yet, it raged. It raged around them.
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| − | Fiona looked behind from the small him the graveyard was set in, looking back at the great city before them...
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' Dervish.
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| − | That's what they called it. Moon's passage was a roaming circle through the ranks of the dead and body flew into the air at every step. He was laughing as he went, hooting in child like excitement as he dodged under clumsily grasping hand and laid about him with fists of jade. He snatched back at them from time to time, lifting one off the ground and swinging it like a club against the rest. It had been a while since he had a real rumble. The dead fuckers weren't what he would have called savvy, but there were enough of them to make it fun.
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| − | A pause for breath and as one the ring of waling corpses fell in on him. Moon grinned and lunged right back. A clap-blow to the jaw ripped the head of the rotting corpse of an old man and sent it tumbling into the air, but cold, clammy fingers clawed and gripped at him from every side. He had to clear some space again. Dropping into a crouch, he wrapped his hands around a stone grave marker. Gritting his teeth and letting out a snarl, the veins in his neck bulged as he twisted and whipped his body to the side. Soft earth exploded as he tore the slab of rock free. He spun once, slapping bodies through the air with the face of the monument-stone, then let it go and hurled into the ocean of bodies. Spinning through the air, the gravestone cut a corridor through them carpeted with broken bones and bend bodies, clear to the open path and the girls beyond.
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| − | That was good enough. Pulling himself off the ground before the zombies could surge in again, Moon bolted through the opening in their now far thinner ranks and pulled free to rejoin Selina and Kanti on the road, his eyes wild and alive.
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| − | "That wasn't rushin' that time, was it?" he asked the Windian through huffs of breath, wiping blood from his cheek with the back of his hand and only ending up smearing it worse.
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| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti slips the bow onto her back, and then with a glance at Selina she draws her spear, moving forward with moon not nearly so vigorous though, at least to those who watch, trails of smoke and steam around her as she dances through the rains and the dead, leaving an iris laced trail of the now truely dead, all those she touched wreathed in green light for an instant then falling like the corpses they were, not to rise again.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' Lowering her free hand as the other two rush into the decimated, ever-advancing press, Selina waits a few moments to grasp Angeldust firmly, then follows them both. There is no subtle design in her approach to the walking corpses -- she contemptuously wades into the press, scythe flashing back and forth, cutting through the dead as if they were so many stalks of wheat. One or two get inside her weapon's reach, she simply reaches out and grabs them by the skulls, rotting flesh caving in as she crushes them, hurling the bodies back into the crowd. Her empty anima rages about her, searing the corpses, scoring them with elemental fury.
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| − | "It's extermination." Selina says as she cuts several in two with one stroke. "We're not done yet."
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| − | '''Fiona:''' The Solar danced around the Undead, a dance of little grace, but one that allowed her to evade any harm... and walked closer to Kanti and Selina. "So many... so fast..."
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' "Eh, ain't so much here." Moon answered with a shrug, reaching back at the sound of a warbling groan and grasping the head of a zombie as it shambled up behind him. Jerking down, he threw it's face into the dirt and stomped the heel of his boot onto the back of it's skull. Congealed slime and something vicious and black bubbled up as bone crunched under foot, making Moon wince and turn his face away. "Mostly just fuckin' nasty."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' "Not right now, no. Plenty others elsewhere." Selina rumbles out a purr as she is nearly swarmed by two walking dead, cutting one down the side with a one-handed stroke of her scythe, and grabbing the throat of the other, throwing it to the ground and snapping its spine as she brings a booted foot down ''hard'', the next step trodding on the thing's head. "We gotta hurry."
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| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti continues her dance, her movements graceful, though striking with deceptive force, the dead she hits falling apart with a green shine.
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| − | "To where, my lady?"
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' As Selina crushed the undead beneath her foot, he took a glance down at the city bellow them and his eyes sobered almost at once. Plumes of smoke were already rising and the dull searing glow of flame flickered out of several districts.
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| − | Shit he didn't expect it that fast. "A'ite, so lets get the fuck outta here." he jerked a thumb back at the dead who still remained on their feet. "Ain't enough of them left ta do shit. Send someone else up here ta clean up, soon as we can find anyone."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' "Yep." She looks about, disengaging from the rapidly diminshing mob of undead with a backward leap after a final sweeping blow. Propelled into the air, she looks about.
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' "C'mon kid!" Moon calls to Kanti, stepping close beside her. Smashing it's face in with a backhanded swing then opening his arms wide to let it fall into his hands, he grasps one of the walking dead and hauls it from the ground, hurling it into the scattered corpses. Moon flashed Kanti a smile. Bodies fall and tumble back, struggling to pick themselves back up. Reaching out and grasping the Terrestrials shoulder, he smiles at her and nods back down the road. "Can have fun later darlin'. We got shit ta take care of."
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| − | * Selina looks... and sees.... death. Except on one place. Where an arrow of viridian light had hit... where there should be death... there was a spark of life.... half-life, covered by death, and still distinctly alive. Still there, trying to not be seen amidst the corpses... waiting... waiting for them to leave.
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| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti stills her movements as Moon places a hand on her shoulder, and nods. She doesn't bother to point out that she isn't having fun.
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| − | "Of course, Moon."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' ''He isn't going to raise anymore of these things''. Selina thinks as she lands behind the mob, hauling a corpse off of the wounded necromancer, and holding him up with an iron grip. "Scream, like a pig." She whispers, then sinks her fangs into his throat, draining his blood, out of sight behind the press of zombies.
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| − | '''Visages:''' ... And so he does.
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| − | His screams, that of both of his souls, feel the cemetery... he changes, healing and becoming a monstrous creature like those they had seen before... and yet, despite the ichor coming from his eyes, his blood is no less sweet. It fails at scratching Selina, it fails at pushing her away, it fails at anything but screaming... as even when it calls upon its lower soul for power and invigoration, it only gives her so much more power.
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' ''What the fuck.. ''. ?
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| − | Still holding Kanti's arm and pulling here away from the remains of the dead, he watches Selina vanish behind the screen of bodies and hears the inhuman screams.
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| − | ''Naw, shit, I don't wanna know... ''
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| − | He turns away and stares back down into the city, sweaping it for signs of anything that look like somewhere is suffering worse knocks than the rest.
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| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti turns herself from the screams, closing her eyes and trying not to hear them, pressing herself up to Moon, wrapping him in fire that warms but does not burn.
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| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' Once the necromancer is dead, Selina wipes her mouth off and lets his body drop to the ground absently, taking to the air and coming down near the other two. With her gem shining at her throat, a palely-beautiful demoness of the northern ice-fields, so like the Pale Angel, in a way. And so...not. Turquoise eyes regard them as her modulated voice asks, "Where to next, dear?"
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' The district was burning. All of them were, but the Red-Lantern...
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| − | Where his boys were.
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| − | ''Fuck. ''
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| − | The feel of Kanti against him drew his attention away from the sight of the city down to her and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders reflexively. He had a good idea what that was about.
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| − | "Just cut it, kid." He told her, giving her a brief squeeze. "Cut it and don't hear it. Don't see it. When she does shit like that. We gotta enough crap to deal with from the people we're supposed ta be fuckin' up. We can't trip over each other, too."
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| − | Selina landed and he looked up at her. She looked beautiful again, but it was suddenly hard not to see her with strips of flesh in her mouth and blood down her throat but like he told Kanti, wasn't a good time to think about that.
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| − | "Red Lantern." He answered without hesitation, letting Kanti go after a moment and pointing towards the fires across the city. "I ain't gonna let my gang burn up unless I'm there ta see it."
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| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' The lightning about her crackles violently for a moment, as she looks where he's pointing. "Yes, let's go see what they've got at bay. Iron Tears should be able to hold his own, and we're the biggest targets anyway. Everyone can see us."
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| − | | |
| − | === Meanwhile... ===
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| − | They were just mortals.
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| − | The assassins knew it as they looked above the Carmine Thorns rounding the corner. They were just mortals, but their enemies were not. Best of the best, augmented by necromancy, wearing the red and black and weapons forged in ghost-flame.
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| − | Raven knew that. But she was one of Hemmlock's best. And she would show them what that meant, falling in front of them, cutting one throat before she hit the ground. Ten of them, ten of hers'.
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| − | And so the arrows fell, hitting five more. The others begun drinking their own allies' blood, bodies filling with unholy scars.. and so she danced around them as they augmented themselves, twin blades of Chiaroscuro glass scything one after another with her support's help.
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| − | She was not only mortal. She was of Hemmlock's inner circle. And she would show them what that meant.
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| − | <br><br><br><br><br><br>
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| − | Iron Cog was not mortal.
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| − | In his mind, there was hammer and anvil, fire and iron. A child of Iron Tears, made of Iron and Jade. White Jade. He was made to resist, to persevere.
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| − | And never before he had to resist like this. to the weapons of a Tomescu. Sword, Hammer, Spear. It took all of them in, The arm like a piston going inside the cloud, crushing something hard and craggy... and reaching something soft. A single crush, and it was done. Hammer and Anvil hit and ringed with victory on his mind. He was a child of Iron Tears. And he would show them all what it meant to be Ironborn.
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| − | The nemessary came next, its hand pushing in the cracks on Cog's neck... and pushing his head off its hinges with the enhanced strength on its corpse-body. With a last effort, he opened his chest, sending many spikes of iron within the nemessary, who screamed in pain.
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| − | And as his consciousness faded, his severed head could see the workers falling into the nemessary with forge tools, destroyed the one who harmed an emissary of their god.
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| − | Its last thought, is a smile. He lived up to his father. He lived up to his people.
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| − | <br><br><br><br><br><br>
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| − | They were just mortals.
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| − | Conn Seir, Devon White, Lamont Ravencourt... and their aides. Top notch assassins just as Raven, they waited for the Thorns, ready to throw an even more devastating blow. They had fought ''things'' in the Boil all their lives, taken the lives of ghost-blooded, demon-blooded and other oddities... they knew their job. They were prepared to kill the Parishioner’s agents before they even had a chance to act.
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| − | But different from Raven, they were not so lucky.
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| − | The black figures were among them before they could even notice. And then, thrown by inhuman strength, bodies begun to fly. Blood splattered everywhere. Annointed on the assassin’s blood, the runes begun to grow on the Thorn’s bodies, and fangs in their mouths. The last thing Conn Seir, the Blood Coin could see was a monstrous fanged mouth coming unearthly fast in his direction...
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| − | <br><br><br><br><Br><br>
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| − | They were just mortals.
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| − | The workers of the third royal foundry of Whiteshield – a pack of ‘gray rats’ as they were called due to the state of their uniforms after a few days on the work. They rushed out of their factory, and the blood of Black Cloaks and sympathizers was in their hammers. Citzens joined them at every corner, and now they walked as a crowd throughout the narrow streets... they were the Boil!
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| − | Their city! Their home!
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| − | Their undoing.
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| − | Narrow as it was, they saw Hollow Edge in front of them... the Nemessary Captain of the ‘Black Cloaks’, a barrel on hand. He threw it to them, covering them with oil, halting the crowd. The fire came soon after. Over their screams, over burning worse than the foundries, he jumped with a shrill cry over them, extending a ghostly presence like a nightmare. All they saw was reality melt like wax or their flesh, as the shade moved through the melting world. In the end, all were dead, except for one child. Hollow Edge approached the child, and grabbed it by its collar, “Run. Run. Run to the Boy’s field, rush to the Underworld through it. Serve. Pay homage. Those who stay here will die for fighting. Serve, and you will be spared. Pray, and you will live forever. Fight... and you will become another screaming voice. There is no victory against the void.”
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| − | <br><br><Br><br><br><br>
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| − | The Jade Hawk Rising Talons were just mortals.
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| − | For little more than a day, they had enjoyed a sort of special status on the Boil. The Crow’s wings. Moon’s messengers. They set up his meeting with the greatest crimelords in the Boil, and they came to each one, head held high, officially able to tell them where to go and what to do. For young boys and girls, barely more than children, looking for indentity and self-affirmation, which they held together by the tatoos that covered their bodies, that was heaven.
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| − | They barely had time to scream.
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| − | The black beast came for them, burning at the edges, its face mostly indifferent as its claws rent them. And yet, when they realised they had to run, none could. The claws came, the hooves came.
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| − | He was ''fear''.
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| − | The clap of the hooves made them scream, remembered the harsh memories living on the street scarred in each and every one of them... made their scars shine beneath the ornate tatoos they wove around them for protection. And they could see, on the monster’s face... that it did not care. It did not care as the claps and the claws violated their souls’ fears and rent their bodies...
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| − | Red Bass was the only one left, he realised as the monster held his face and lifted him. It was only fair, he was their leader... the one his friends had stood in front of. They tried to protect him and now they were... now he had only the monster in front of him. Face like night. Straight, fine horns like those of no animal. Hair as a flowering nettle. All spikes and thrones, slicing out through the air in every direction. And clad in iron, in hard iron, burning red-hot at its ends... Bass could feel its edges touching him, burning his flesh, as the monster looked within his eyes... and said two words.
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| − | '' “Siray. Simma.” ''
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| − | Red Bass was too scared to even ''think'' before replying, “South... southsouthsouth Red Lantern... south of Red Lantern District...”
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| − | Bass was kept there, trembling, as the monster moves his left hand... covered in burning red iron, in turn covered in blood... most of it the blood of Bass’ girlfriend, Azure... and with the blood, he begun to paint a sigil on Bass’ face.
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| − | '' “Thank you.” '' the monster whispered... and then, the sigil brought everything to the fore. His fears. His humilliations. When his brother... when he ran to the streets... running from cleaning season... from the monster, the captain... his best friend, tortured by the Silver Queens... all his fears...
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| − | Red Brass cried. And screamed. Like the little boy he still was. The monster simply threw him on a wall like so much as trash, and walked on as the boy writhed and burned, the blood-sigil burning, burning his body with fear... until he was shadow and smoke and fear against the wall. A gate of shadow, smoke and fear from which a nightmare gallopped through, scattering his screams and bones.
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| − | The monster was already away, as the nightmare followed. He had a mission. And he knew where, now.
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| − | | |
| − | === Throughout the chaos, they ran to the Red-Latern District... ===
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| − | The Red-Lantern, as they approached, mirrors and windows shattered, puddles on the ground became foul, growing nightshade and nocturne fungi, dirty and unreflective. The sound of hooves echoed on the distance. Far, far away, a bright white Holysword anima shone on the garrisson. On Highlane, the tentacles of an immense Kraken exploded from the ground, blocking any who dare come. An hour and ten minutes in the revolution... crossing the city had taken too long. And chaos spread...
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' They were workers and foundry men. They were punks from gangs too small to know. But they had been holding their ground against the cold press of the Bishops elite. The undead came expecting to sweep the streets clear and roll the rebels back to the mines where they could be crushed. Instead they were met with hammers and picks, with table legs torn off and wielded as clubs, with paving stones pried from the ground and hurled against their shield until they were too battered to use. The dead had persistence, but the living had ''fire'' and their eyes burned with it as they held the narrow street time and time again.
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| − | But for the dead, it was always only a matter of time and that time was about to come. More troops filtered in, drawn to the sound of fighting, and they were pushing the mob back by weight alone. Trampling the screaming wounded under their armored feet, they shoved forward stabbing with spear and short sword, spilling hot, living blood onto the ground.
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| − | And they were so intent on the pulsing veins before them, they didn't notice the pale glow from behind before it was too late.
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| − | Lamp posts in the Boil were made of iron, not wood. It was a matter of civic pride. But at the moment, that only mattered for how much they weighed. The heavy shaft bent with a groan, bucked up the paving stones around it, and finally tipped and tore free from it's foundations. ''That'' the undead soldiers heard and the first turned around just as the twisted bar of iron crashed into him and sent him flailing into the wall. The second caught the back swing, glass and oil exploding across it's face as the lantern itself smashed into the side of it's head.
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| − | Body shaking under the weight, breaths coming in aching gasps, Moon's eyes were blind orbs of light as he gripped the lamp post and slowly hoisted it above his head. His boys might have been in danger, but Moon would be damned if he was just going to leave everyone else to burn.
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| − | Shouting in stained rage, stepped forward. A shadow passed across the ranks of the dead a moment, then the post tore through them like a razor through flesh. Tearing up the side of the wall, spitting dust and rubble, the iron post flattened the entire back rank of the black soldiers, crushing armored formed and leaving some to roll like beetles on their backs.
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| − | It wasn't much, but it was enough. The living howled and swarmed again and this time, the dead fell back as the fire of life began to consume them all.
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| − | Moon was already running to catch up with Selina and Kanti as the ranks of the dead broke and scattered through the streets behind him. He didn't know if that one small victory would mean shit in the end, but fuckin' damn if it hadn't felt like it was worth it.
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| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti ran alongside Selina, robe of screams flapping inthe breeze of their passage, a trail of iris blossoms behind her, blooming but briefly on the hard streets of the boil then withering away.
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| − | They came in at her from the side, half a dozen cutouts in the sky, filled with with an field of white flowers that stretched on and on for eternity.
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| − | Kanti did the only thing she could, pivoting to catch the first one on her spear, watching the field of flowers turn green then fade away, the hole in the air breaking up on the breeze. Spinning the spear by the haft, she wards the rest of the blows away.
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| − | There is the briefest of dances, a pall of sandelwood smoke left drifting down the street behind them, the spear flashing as it catches the light of her anima, the ghosts seeing lethe on it's tip.
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| − | Kanti runs on.
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| − | '''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.
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| − | ''What is this? How fearsome, that valley of terror... ''
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| − | 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.
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| − | ''There is a demon there, a hunter, who is hunting. ''
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| − | Marching toward the same destination Selina was going, fighting their way their. The skirmish line of workers breaks, falling back.
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| − | ''There are none who hear that noise and fail to flee. ''
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| − | 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.
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| − | ''What do hunters have to fear? ''
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| − | The nemissaries charge as one, the Teodozji moves in behind them, as the Tomescu hangs back.
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| − | ''Fear does not exist within a hunter's heart''
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| − | 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.
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| − | ''However, those that would test god will bear the sin... ''
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| − | 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.
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| − | | |
| − | ''I materialize from the depths of the night''
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| − | She stabs with the nemissary's sword, and the workers swarm the black cloaks, overbearing them, overbearing what's left of the nemissaries.
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| − | ''No kind of fear has a place within me''
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| − | Howling as Selina runs the sword up it's back, thrusting it home in the base of the demon's neck, the lion turns.
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| − | ''Even when the ever-green oak surges within the storm''
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| − | 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.
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| − | ''Even when the birds cry noisily''
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| − | Selina turns. The Tomescu falls back...
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| − | ''The moon is a certainty''
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| − | 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.
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| − | ''And the moonlight is still faint. ''
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| − | 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.
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| − | ''Soon, that light will be gone as well. ''
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| − | 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.
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| − | | |
| − | ''There is a voice from there''
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| − | She dives, Dreamshard slides past a second frantic defense. Bites into demonic essence beneath the clouds.
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| − | ''A voice that calls me''
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| − | The weapon plunges home as she sweeps down on the Tomescu not far from their destination, and life winks out of the cloud-arsenal.
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| − | | |
| − | ''Soon, the light of day will be lost as well''
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| − | 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.
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| − | | |
| − | ''Fate has spurred you on. ''
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| − | * It is on fire.<br><br>None of the statues of the Smiling Lover on the way are whole. None of the Brothel ornaments are left. They were burned, tarnished, and green fire comes out of them. Windows lay broken, puddles of water on the streets darkened by nightshade and fungi like they had been left in night and shadow for weeks. And the noise.<br><br>The noise of hooves.<br><br>The noise of battle.
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' Where were they?
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| − | It was the only question that mattered now. Through the smoke and ruin, Moon dashed down the middle of the road and wondered where the streets he knew by heart had gone to. Familiar sights defaced. Familiar signs torn down. Bodied and blood and broken glass. Everything was rearranged. Everything was upside down. Nothing was where it should be.
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| − | Where the ''fuck'' were they?!
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| − | "Fuckin' hell" he hissed, looking back and forth down the roads as he ran, looking for some sign, some clue. Even a pile of corpses. Just to know where they were. Stopping at a crossroad, standing atop a pile of broken stone that use to be a statue, he threw back his head and bayed towards the sky above, waiting for the answering cry to guide him.
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| − | | |
| − | * Not too far... few streets on, three or four blocks, he hears their voices amidst the smoke. They are alive! And fighting! Three or four blocks to the North, meaning they got to advance quite a bit coming from the Industrial District!
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| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' Selina lands in the district, fresh from slaying the cloud-arsenal, looking about, disappointed there is no fight to be had here.
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| − | | |
| − | "What a pity." She growls, dusting herself off, walking toward Moon as she looks about for Kanti.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti is beside fiona, watching about for threats to her or moon.
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| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' ''Shit. Yes. Fuck. YES! ''
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| − | | |
| − | "Pretty soon darlin'! he whoops, springing off the mound stone and onto the side of a near by brothel. Moon clings to the wall for a moment, then begins to stab his fingers into the wood and scramble his feet up behind him, hauling himself quickly onto the roof. Balancing on the roof top, he looks back down for the two girls and waves them after him. "This way!"
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| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona:''' Fiona moves her hands about... chanting another spell....
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| − | | |
| − | To protect them from the splinters.<br>
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| − | To protect them from the heat.<br>
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| − | To protect them from death.<br>
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| − | | |
| − | She chants as essence pours on the smoke around them, purifying it, clearing it... making it cling to them.... cling all around them. Then she touched Kanti, looking at her as Moon begins to move...
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| − | | |
| − | "Are you alright...? You seem... spent..."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti looks around as Fioan speaks to her, and she nods. She was tired. Her fighting style was demanding of her and she had kept the high up almost far to long.
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| − | | |
| − | "I'll be fine. I just need a little rest ... a chance to gather my essence. Don't worry."
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| − | | |
| − | * Fiona holds Kanti's hand... and lets essence flow. Leaves of golden essence appear about them... green on Fiona, taken by the winds of autumn, and becoming green again as they touch Kanti... giving her power, giving her strength... as Fiona bathes her in reassuring Solar light... "I know it is little... but it is all I had left. If you can protect us like you did before... please."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' She walks up to them, leathery wings folded for now, looking up to Moon as he climbs. "Be right up there." Selina says, looking to Kanti and Fiona, gauging them. "You two holding up?"
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| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona:''' "I am.... spent. I did all I could in trying to protect us now... but I have essence protecting me. Thanks, Misst..." She gulps, "Thanks, Dark Angel" she makes herslef smile, even at the alien being Selina was now... one that should be terrifying, but was oddly as alluring as Selina ever was...
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| − | | |
| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti sighs as the motes flow into her, bringing her warmth along with the essence.
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| − | | |
| − | She looks up at the dark angel, briefly showing fear at her visage before she nods, gratefully.
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| − | | |
| − | "I am ... The bruises are healing, though not fast enough. I have enough essence to fight now though, and some to spare."
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| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' She looks at them for a moment, measuring. "I see. I'll keep an eye on both of you, then. Just in case."
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| − | | |
| − | She hadn't come this far to lose any of them, after all.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' ''Sheeyit... ''
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| − | | |
| − | kicked a tile from the roof and sent it spinning through the air. Rust-red clay shattered on the ground near the girls, spraying the street around it with shards. "C'mon! Shit if they can't walk, haul 'um up here and I'll fuckin' carry 'um both!"
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| − | | |
| − | * Below, two streets from there... he sees them running.<br>All women. Running terrified.<br>He knew them. And knew they would never be terrfied like that.<br>Not the Silver Queens, the gang of goddess Simma Siray.<br><br>And yet, terrified they were, running from something... that Moon couldn't see amidst the smoke and the angling of buildings....
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| − | | |
| − | * Fiona nods to Selina, "Yes! I... am not good with athletics!"
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| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' That was one. She looks to Kanti. "Hey. Well, you can jump or climb that, I should think. Come on now." Selina takes Fiona, holding her in her arms. It wasn't the best way to do it, but slinging her over one shoulder would impede her flight, unless she had Kanti on the other side.
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| − | ''Bad enough carrying Moon out of Spire. ''
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| − | | |
| − | She didn't want to repeat that again. "Let's go."
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| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti nods "I will do my best, my lady."
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| − | | |
| − | She leaps up onto the rooftop, not landing entirely gracefully on the roof thanks to the injuries, then sprinting after moon, a trail of iris blossoms starting up behind her once more as she wraps herself in combat magics once again.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Fiona:''' Fiona holds her hands to Selina's neck, still glowing with the radiance of the sun... warming the beast of the cold north with the radiance of the eastern sunset...
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| − | | |
| − | '''Seventh Moon:''' He saw them and stared. Disbelieving at first. Nothing had ever done that to them. He had seen them stand up in front of the garrison. Watched them up close as they tried to bar ''his'''' path. There wasn't a damn fucking thing the Silver Queens had ever ran from
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| − | | |
| − | And now he was watching them streaming through the streets in terror. Naw. This wasn't right and it ''couldn't'' be good.
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| − | | |
| − | "KID! ANGEL!" he shouted back to Selina and Kanti, waving to get their attention and then thrusting a finger towards the direction he had seen the Silver Queens retreat. "Someone! Two streets that way! ''Go''!"
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| − | | |
| − | He couldn't leave his boys alone, but whatever was coming for Queens.
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| − | | |
| − | If any of them were going to listen or not, he'd have to deal with it later, but for now Moon turned away and began to sprint across the roof top. Veering away from where the Queens had been, he made his way towards the sound of the Packs howl. Hopping from roof to roof, he watched the world blur bellow him as he passed over the narrow streets, then skidded to a halt on a ledge overlooking the road the street where his gang should have been.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' It felt...odd, having Fiona doing that to her. Warming her. A feeling she hadn't noticed in a long time. Never when she'd possessed the power -- because it had been her doing it.
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| − | | |
| − | ''...exchanged it for this? ''
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| − | | |
| − | Selina crouches a bit, coiling for the spring, then leaps into the air, making sure to hold Fiona tightly. "Kanti! To me!" She calls out, then is off down the road where the women came running from.
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| − | | |
| − | ''What's done is done. ''
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| − | | |
| − | '''Kanti:''' Kanti changes her direction with a small slew of roof tiles, leaping across the rooftops wih grace, though less than moon had shown, running after the Dark Angel...
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| − | | |
| − | Silver Queens: As Selina comes there, over the ledge... she saw them running right past below. And then, going ''through'' the building they got past to run... through the smoke... Simma Siray, hitting the floor a little past him, her divine body beaten and bruised. And from the House... came the sound of Hooves. Burning Mares of darkness moved out of the building... two of them... and something was coming between them. Something that made glass shater at a distance. Something that made light stop reflecting on Fiona's chains and Selina's stone.
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| − | | |
| − | *Simma Siray hits the pavement, her back arching in a rictus of pain for a moment before the limbs come down, shuddering with pain and a rush of tangled emotion -- anger, indignance, determination, fear. Not so much fear for herself as for her girls, and even more so, for the future of her home, as unforgivably bleak and dirty and harsh as life on the streets could be at the time. It was still home, and the gangs were her extended family, all of them creating a livelihood for themselves out of the basic but ever-important need for survival.<br><br>And survival was everything on her mind right now. She had told her girls to run, of course. They had fled, obeying her -- there was no need to feel shame for their fear. Simma remembered very well how frail human flesh could be no matter how strong one's determination burned. And this was no ordinary enemy.<br><br>Oh, no. Not if it could hurl the Wild Child herself, she who embodied the daring brashness and stubborn survivability of the Boil's most hardy of gangs, through a wall like some insignificant piece of flotsam.<br><br>''Get up, girl. You are a symbol of all those who dare to survive against the odds. You cannot be beaten! GET UP! ''<br><br>Bruised and battered as she is, blood trailing from the corner of her mouth, Simma struggles to her feet with fierce pride setting her silver-gold eyes alight with liquid fire. Oh, she feared what approached her now, ominous footsteps shattering windows like miniature earthquakes, spreading about himself a suffocating darkness as sinister and uncomprehensible as a starless night. But she would not run, not when defeat could mean the destruction of everything she held dear.<br><br>"I won't give up 'long as I've got limbs to fight! Come n' get it, you bastard!" she shrieks, a touch of desperate madness pulling her grin into a lopsided, distorted smirk. She lifts bloodied hands curled into fists before her face, grimly standing her ground -- knowing she must at least delay the thing before further assistance comes.
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| − | | |
| − | '''Selina de Windia:''' Selina sets down, wall away from that thing, putting Fiona down as well, as her pupils slit, regarding the thing they now face. "This...if you don't have anything left, make sure you keep your distance from this." She looks to Kanti for a moment. "Ready?"
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| − | | |
| − | ''Fear does not exist within a hunter's heart''
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| − | | |
| − | The Dragon came to the surface, slowly, as she looked back toward that thing. There was a goddess, but...the thing, it held her eye. In some texts it was mentioned. Niremar.
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| − | ''No kind of fear has a place within me''
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| − | The Dragon could know fear, as could she. But Selina knew how to make it not retreat. Throw it in front of the enemy. Make her cornered, given no choice but to fight.
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| − | | |
| − | She walks forward, Dreamshard held low in her right hand, anima sipping at the night about her, soft winds rustling her hair. "Keep the others off me while I take the big one. Hit him if you can."
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| − | ----
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/FourthMovement|Fourth Movement]]
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| − | * - Back to [[GoldenCat/DanceOfAngels|A Dance of Angels]]
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