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Fantasy Cradle of Desire: In Character

AURELIUS STALLARD || VERMILLION


His eyes peered as Cyrus soon came over to greet Foxglove as well. He had noticed Cyrus was here earlier but didn't get the chance to properly greet him due to still preparing the arena at the time. And they were still joined by one more. The lady of the hour herself, Dusk. "Arum Dusk. Good morning as well. I hope you both got proper rest as well. As I just told Foxglove, we'll be cutting training short today so that those coming on tonight's mission have a chance to meet together." He spoke, soon giving an approving nod as Cyrus offered to bring Foxglove to warm up with him.

At Dusk's question, he thought for a moment to recall all the people he assigned last night at the previous meeting. "Aside from you and I, Arum, Foxglove, Nemesis, and Vanitas will be coming. However, I'm not sure if we will all be grouped together. Nemesis is attending the small briefing that will properly sort us out. I trust he'll sort us accordingly." He wasn't too worried about most of them. It was really only Foxglove he was a bit worried about. This would be her first mission. But she has improved tremendously since her first day! She'll be able to handle herself.

"However..." Auri could only give a sigh as his face twisted into a frown. "I have a feeling I know where the majority of us will be assigned to go." There were two primary areas. The dungeon and the estate itself. And knowing that snake, Ematille. He'd ship all of them down into the dungeon with a smile. "It's very likely most of us will be assigned to infiltrating through the dungeon." Was all he said to her before waving his hand. "But we won't know for sure until Nemesis returns. Now hurry and join the others. We have to get as much done as we can since we're short on time."

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒


Aurelius led the way through the twisted and winding halls of the dungeon. The moment they walked in, Auri decided that just trying to make their way around this dark labyrinth would be the hardest part of this mission. There was the question of whether Meredith was here or not. And if she was here then they had to find her. Aurelius had hoped they could avoid the guards and making noise for a good while. But they barely managed to push into the dungeon before hearing a yell that was soon followed by by a scream of terror that echoed through the eerie halls. With Nemesis pausing the group movement, he quickly peered around the corner.

His eyes widened momentarily surprise before narrowing into slits as he glared at the beast and then at the guard it had in its mouth. What was a monster like that doing down here!? How it even got here is a better question. Is this supposed to be some sort of guard dog? One that is attacking their own people? How could they allow a beast of all things to roam freely with their guards!? Do they not care for those who are unfortunate enough to have to share a space with it?!

He could feel his blood boil at such negligence of their workers' safety!? He bit his lip and took a quick moment to compose himself. Being upset now won't benefit them. Though if he ever finds whoever allowed such a beast to roam around they'll be welcomed with a painful surprise. He gave a quick nod at Nemesis. "I agree. Leaving this thing alone will only allow it to cause trouble for everyone later." It was sweet to rid of this now. The area was also quite spacious. He wasn't sure if all parts of the dungeon were this large. This was a doable ring for them to fight in. So he'd rather fight this thing here than in someplace more cramped.

As Nemesis dished out orders Auri was trying to think of the best way to get rid of this monster as quickly and quietly as they could. This fight was bound to make a lot of noise. So, he'd prefer if they finish this and move somewhere else before any more guards or potential monsters come this way to investigate. While monsters tend to be big and scary, they also tend to be quite...stupid. They're animals first and foremost after all. Saying it hasn't attacked them despite seeing them, it must only attacked when provoked or disturbed in someway...or simply whenever it feels like it. Alright. Then they'll give this fur covered snake a reason to fight.

"Stay vigilant and remain calm." He spoke. His voice clear as he seemed almost unfazed by the chaos happening around him. "Whether your training is complete to not, you're all already more than capable to protect yourselves and each other." He reassured before thinking for a moment. "If you all preform well, maybe I'll consider giving you lot half a day off." Coming from someone else's mouth this might be a joke. But Auri was never one to joke about training. "Be careful of anyone or anything that may be coming due to the sound that's about to be made." He warned before turning to Nemesis. Readying his polearm in his hands. "We'll lure it to the side more before engaging." If this monster was as simple as the others he's fought before, it should come towards whatever is loudest or moving the most.

He began walking to once side never breaking eye contact with the beast. The soulless eyes of the monster were met with bloodthirsty eyes. They needed to remove the guard from the beast's mouth before Once he and Nemesis were far enough away from the others he gave him a small nod. "I'm going to go in first. Wait until the guard is dropped before going in yourself. I need you to cover me for a moment while I move the guard out our way." He then grabbed the curved dagger on his person. Shifting his polearm into one hand before watching and waiting. Before sudden throwing the dagger at full strength and in one quick motion.

The blade seemed to vanish for a moment before lodging itself into the side of the monster's face. Auri was aiming for the eye. But as long as it hit the face it's fine. A piercing shriek filled the air as the monster cried out. Dropping the guard in the process. "Nemesis, go!" He motioned for the other man to attack as he dashed forward. Catching the injured man before he smacked against the ground and quickly dropping him by the 2nd guard before signaling the others to start moving while the monster was still distracted if they haven't already.

With the guard away from the monster, there was no need to hold back. He stayed clear of Nemesis's attack before returning towards the side of the hall where the monster was. Spinning the lance in his hand with a visible crackles of lighting sparked from it as he prepare to fight with no hesitation. It was time to put this monstrosity down for good.


Interactions: Post timeskip: Zariel Zariel (Andrius) ||| Pre-timeskip: Dawnsx Dawnsx (Cyrus) | Aukanai Aukanai (Song) | fluticasone fluticasone (Tatiana)

Mentions: Everyone in group one
 
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Bippity boppity booo
Cyrus︱Arum

Cyrus liked to believe that he was better than the average folk when it came to fighting. Daemon was a good teacher, even though he always pulled his punches during training. ("I can't hit you for real! It'd be like kicking a puppy!") That meant Cyrus already had basic self-defense down by the time they joined Arcana. As for Auri, he never pulled his punches, so that only motivated Cyrus to train harder to make sure that he didn't get any more broken bones.

Unfortunately, no amount of training could prepare Cyrus for arrows flying at him from the walls or death pits opening up beneath his feet. When the first trap was activated, Cyrus barely bit back a yelp as Défrayer deflected the incoming arrows. He laid a hand on his chest, trying to calm his pounding heart as he stared at Défrayer with a bright glimmer of newfound admiration in his eyes. He'd always thought they were a bit of an oddball, with their complicated way of speaking and complex interests. But maybe, Cyrus thought as his hand found Stabby's sheath, Défrayer can train him too!

As the group continued their trek toward the observatory, Cyrus stuck closely as he could with Défrayer. Despite Ematille being the leader of their group, Cyrus obediently paused when Défrayer started prodding at the tiles beneath their feet. It wasn't long before a hidden passage revealed itself to them.

"Hey, Défrayer," Cyrus whispered, flashing his most charming smile, "We should find a time for you to teach me some of your tricks. Just the two of us."

Before he could hear their response, a quiet mew caught his attention. Sitting on the grass was a tiny white kitten, who seemed hardly perturbed by the presence of these odd, suspicious humans.

Cyrus cooed adoringly. "Aww, what're you doing here? Come-"

No sooner had Cyrus gotten to his knees to beckon the little feline over than the appearance of a white-haired woman. Cyrus froze, staring up at the stranger's blank eyes. Only when Défrayer leapt into action did he push past the shock and scramble to activate his own stigma. The woman was faster though, disappearing with the kitten as quickly as she had appeared.

Cyrus's stomach churned at the idea of the woman sounding the alarms, but Amethyst was right. Their abilities meant nothing in the face of the woman's teleportation.

"If there's only a few people down there, I can probably do something about them," Cyrus suggested, glancing briefly at Pawn.
Code by Nano
 
looking for schrodinger's image
Leif Sterna | Magpie
Tags: @.Group 1
For most of the way through the long and confusing halls of the dungeon, Vermillion led the way with Leif lingering towards the back of the group to see if there would be anything useful to grab along the way. Fortunately, or unfortunately, their way through was smooth and uneventful other than pausing here and there to have Leif unlock some doors occasionally.

Which was a little strange. Leif thought that there would be more to a dungeon holding someone like Meredith. More sophisticated locks for one example. Some of the locks were so simple it barely took a short shake of two or three wires before they popped open with a rusty squeal of the door.

But just as Leif was wondering where the guards were, there was a yell and a scream of terror that rang throughout the eerie halls of the dungeon.

"...I guess that answers why there are so little guards around this way…hahaha…"
The light haired man whispered under his breath while laughing weakly when he finally got a glimpse of the monster from over a few members’ heads. From his point of view, he was able to see that it had at least one guard gripped in its maw.

With a grim smile, Leif nodded at Nemesis to show that he heard his role in the plan before stepping up closer to the two leading members from the First Faction. With a quick activation of his stigma and (sticky) fingers, he nabbed the abandoned and snuffed out torch that the shocked guard had dropped in the chaos. With a quick inspection, he saw it was a regular primitive torch that needed to be lit the old-fashioned way. Flimsy but it would still be useful for a distraction.

And once the monster was thoroughly distracted by Vermillion and Nemesis, Leif was quick to snatch the sword that was still miraculously attached to the injured guard’s belt before following up behind the two. There was a high chance that the guard wouldn’t be needing his sword any time soon. Even if he did survive the outwardly visible injuries, Leif believed that it was entirely possible that Mana Corrosion might unfortunately be in his future anyway.

Shaking grim thoughts out of his mind, he focused on the task at hand and silently activated his stigma again. The borrowed sword floated out of his hand and silently hovered near the dungeon ceiling. Thankfully, the sword’s weight wasn’t too cumbersome.
 
Spinel
reno salvatore
location
Arva Estate, Hidden Corridor
interactions
Rattler Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian , Knightmare Aviator Aviator
mentions
Vermillion Bloody_Death Bloody_Death
The man guarding the doorway was a mere ragdoll in Rattler’s hands, cleanly knocked out and pulled off to the side without a single noise escaping the poor victim’s throat due to the spectral gaze of Rattler’s stigma. When the armored engine’er signaled for the two accompanying him to approach, Spinel nodded and made a beeline for the door, silent footfalls gliding past the floor with practiced ease. Yet the moment the redhead lowered his head to inspect the door’s lock mechanism, he’d learn that it had been, in fact, never locked in the first place.

Dull green eyes widened behind a paper-mache mask as they tracked the movement of the turning doorknob, followed by an irregular thump threatening to push his heart out of his chest. He swiftly ducked to the side of the door, a faint shimmer from the amethyst dangling from his left ear summoning forth a simple steel rod gripped tightly within the palm of his left hand. By the time the head of a curious woman peered out from the half-opened doorway, the redhead had positioned himself to strike, both hands raising the rod before harshly swinging at the side of his poor victim’s head—a rather crude and instinctive act born from years of being randomly harassed by Vermillion while traversing the Labyrinth’s corridors.

Fortunately, his hasty actions had done their intended job, knocking into the woman’s temple and sending her crashing into the door, though he winced at the sound of the door being swung open by the force and smacking into the stone wall that awaited at the end of its course. Sending up a small prayer to whoever was still there to listen that the other guards were too far to take note of the noise, he followed his own momentum to roll into the room and out of Rattler’s way, who swiftly took care of the second guard much like he’d done the first.

A short yelp followed Spinel’s sudden entrance as he righted himself back up with his makeshift weapon poised for a second swing, yet he’d find himself lowering the steel rod the moment he laid his eyes upon a familiar figure.

“Basil,”
he said, the unexpectedness of his find leeching the surprise out of his voice and leaving only a deadpan tone as if he were accusing the medic of some manner of misdemeanor. Noting that the alarm and suspicion had yet to leave the medic’s silvery-grey eyes, Spinel briefly moved his mask to the side to reveal half of his face before securing it back into its original position.

“Oh it’s…you,”
Basil said, mirroring Spinel’s lack of enthusiasm,
“Look, we can talk about this later. We need to grab that lunatic and leave before that crazy sister of hers and her pets kill her. And us. They treated me well due to my status, but that’s clearly not going to cut it anymore.”
True to his words, a quick look around the room made it clear that the furnishings were rather luxurious for a space housing a prisoner. A plate of uneaten food—some dish with meat from the looks of it—sat atop a table carved from rosewood, and the bed the medic had been resting upon was covered by a soft, downy quilt. The man himself appeared well-rested, not at all haggard like a man kept confined for three to four days. They hadn’t even bothered to bind his hands and feet, likely believing that there was no need to when he, as someone with no combat experience, was under constant surveillance.

The medic walked around the bed without another word, coming face-to-face with the wall at the foot of the bed. A light push rolled the small bookshelf to the side, revealing an opening roughly a meter tall that led into a taller corridor.

“The guards that came in-and-out of that room always used this passageway. They changed shifts shortly before you three barged in, so there shouldn’t be anyone heading our way for a while. If there are, it’s better than being out in an open hall that’s patrolled frequently,”
Basil explained as they walked, though he didn’t forget to extend an offer to sate any curiosities or desires for information,
“If you have any questions, it’s best you ask them now.”
code by Nano Nano
 
Dorian Alfieri | Ematille

Tick, tick, tick…

Though the hands of his watch remained still, the noise continued in Dorian’s head. When he closed his eyes, it alternated with his heartbeat – thump-tick, thump-tick, thump-tick – a perfect, perpetual metronome regulating the pace of his life. On and on and on, it never stopped, never quieted, never vanished for a single moment of every waking hour, minute, second. He’d grown used to it over the years, enough so that it was frequently obscured by the louder thoughts and sensations of his daily life; but in the silence of Arcana’s missions, the invisible clock tick-ed more clearly than ever.

Tick, tick, tick…

Aided by Pawn’s sensory abilities – what a particularly useful one that one was (Ha! Wasn’t that quite the hilarious statement?) – and Knightmare’s prior surveillance of the grounds, the small band of infiltrators made swift progress through the estate. Or they had until they split into two, even-smaller groups to cover more ground. Following this, their progress slowed to an agonizing crawl, having to stumble through a seemingly endless corridor of traps. Défrayer proved a deft hand at warding off most harm, skilled enough with their blade to even deflect incoming projectiles. And yet Dorian felt far from reassured.

The treacherous terrain had indicated they were traveling in the direction of something worth investigating. Not necessarily Meredith, he’d recognized, but nonetheless promising enough to continue on to the observatory. So they continued on.

Tick, tick, tick…

Now, standing at the lip of the tunnel down, he felt the need to reevaluate their path forward. Dorian drew his fingers across the smooth surface of his mask and peered down into the gap. The first few steps of a spiral staircase gave way to an inky darkness his eyes could not pierce. Curious. This particular path had neither appeared on the maps of the estate grounds nor turned up in Knightmare’s investigations – and as such, was a rather worrying element. Dorian had accounted for many hindrances during their expedition, but the probability of an entirely separate underground passage was, frankly, rather remote. There were limitations to how deep underground structures could be constructed; this steep plunge seemed to ignore them all.

“Pawn,” he addressed the slight woman, his voice slightly muffled behind his gruesome, golden grin. “Do you sense anyone below or above?”

Before he recieved his answer, another development sought to cause poor Dorian a further headache. An intruder. Défrayer launched themselves at the pale-haired woman, always quick to make the first move. Not quick enough this time. The interloper – Dorian found it amusing to refer to her as such, considering it was they who were the interlopers (or perhaps they were one and the same; she certainly didn’t resemble the typical Arva guardsman) – vanished in the blink of an eye. Teleportation, then. He’d heard tales of relics with such capabilities before, but never had the opportunity to acquire one himself. A shame.

Défrayer fell short, plunging through open space before they came to a halt. “Should I pursue? Eleven and three-fifth minutes. I am not opposed to attempting severance of both relic and limb from the interloper, but my time is quite tight, you see."

"It's useless,” Another voice interrupted. “She could teleport. No matter how confident you are in your speed, she can always blink away whenever you get close. I suggest we all stick together."

Ah, Amethyst. A sharp woman, though with an intelligence much more amenable to Dorian than Défrayer’s. None of that same madness clouded her vision, filled her head with the delusions that dictated their own. Preferable in all ways but three.

“What do you think, Do… Ematille?” He glanced at her, eyes hidden from sight. In all ways but four.

Tick, tick, tick…

“We move forward,” Dorian decided swiftly. “It would be a waste of precious time to pursue an unknown opponent we are neither confident in arresting nor eliminating. We are here to retrieve Death above all else. Abandon all attempts at stealth and focus your energies on expeditiousness: our deadline to locate Death has just been moved up.” The lanky man looked over his charges, then back down at the stairs. The path was too narrow to fit more than a single pair at a time.

“Prepare yourselves to fight if necessary. Samadhi and Pawn will lead the way down. Do try to avoid tripping any further traps. Arum and Amethyst will follow after them, then Foxglove and I. Défrayer will take up the rear. Keep watch for the teleporter’s return – or any other unpleasant surprises. If you have even the slightest inkling of trouble, announce it. We cannot afford to be caught unawares now.”

Interactions: Group 2

Mentions:

Location:
The Observatory, Arva Estate
 
fluticasone fluticasone
dusk
name
titania iseult
location
dungeon w/ group 1
interactions
vermillion ( Bloody_Death Bloody_Death ) nemesis ( Zariel Zariel ) vantias ( lucenti lucenti ) leif ( A Murder Of Corviknight A Murder Of Corviknight ) carnelian ( 606 606 )
mentions
-
Though her alias was Dusk, the darkness was not often a friend. Tonight's mission, however, required the night's mistress as they donned masks in a pale imitation of Meredith's power. Though the air in the passages was stale and the humidity suffocated her, the disguise remained on her face.
She heard the sounds first: thrashing, screaming - so much screaming. She paused before the order even came, reluctant to face whatever had caused that much pain. Leif's dry humor barely even registered when all she could hear was the man's pain.
It wasn't the first time, she'd even been the cause on occasion, but it never failed to unsettle her. A very real reminder that their enemies were often human, flawed as they were. It was Nemesis' barely audible question that grounded her. She had to focus on the task at hand.
Orders were given... and their second-in-command's words made her stiffen and her blood turn from ice to fire. She fought back a retort, though her hand inched its way towards her bag of stones Just once... Maybe she'd convince Vermillion to let her use Nemesis as target practice. Her training was incomplete, right? The exasperated breath she expelled left the mask more uncomfortable than before, but it helped her find a semblance of calm.
She readied her bow, notching one arrow. If the damn thing went straight for her she wasn't about to rely on anyone else to save her. If they didn't trust her abilities, she wasn't about to trust them. Not to mention, finding a monster when there should've just been human guards set her on edge.
The group moved forward, with her and Carnelian bringing up the rear. They diverted from the main force, bunkering down beside the guard. He seemed too shocked to even register they were here, his eyes transfixed on the monster. He didn't even notice his compatriot flop to the ground like a ragdoll.
"Get between us if you don't want to die."
she said, gesturing to herself and Carnelian. There was no compassion in the words, only a statement of fact.
"Any attempts to flee will end with an arrow in your back. Clear?"
Her eyes followed the sword up... and up. A dungeon with this grand of a ceiling didn't make sense. What exactly was this a holding cell for?
 
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SONG GRACIE

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten of Swords FOXGLOVE
Four months is not a lot of time to prepare oneself for the do or die lifestyle of Arcana. However, maybe there was never enough time to truly prepare for it.

Song wasn’t sure how ready she was for this mission. She’d been sent on minor ones before, nothing so dangerous. But if Vermillion and Nemesis had enough faith in her that they trust her enough to assign her to this one today, she tried to muster her confidence and put on a steely front. The goosebumps on her arms and the building anticipation betrayed her.

To be split from the majority of the first faction had added to her unease. At least, among the Arcana members who she wasn’t familiar with, she had Arum to turn to. That tiny bit of reassurance that he was also with her, gave her some relief.

So, she pushed on, remaining silent to stay focused as she kept up with the group heading for the observatory. Amethyst aiding them in providing a torch to light the path ahead, but when it was handed to Pawn, Song could see the shakiness of the woman’s hand. She couldn’t help but bite her lip in concern. Was she..okay? Not like Song herself was any less nervous than what Pawn appeared to be. But she knew enough that she couldn’t let herself slip up on this particular mission.

That much was clear when there were traps that were being triggered. Just another thing to raise her alarms and set her on edge. Quick footwork amounted to swift dodges, but most of the arrows were skillfully deflected by Défrayer. Nerves were buzzing, heartbeat was racing. Still, when she had a moment to catch her breath, she reminded herself to keep it together. She held her head back up.

The distraction was Défrayer speaking up, to take the lead as to figure out the working mechanics of the traps. To listen and watch as they took a moment to advance with caution. Eventually coming to overturn a tile to unveil a hidden staircase. The group might’ve inched closer to get a better look.

They only had a moment to do so, before they were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a cat. The group might have simultaneously turned to locate the source. Then, in a flash a woman appeared. The adrenaline from before rushed back, and Song gripped onto the knife holstered at her hip in a reflex. In anticipation of a potential fight, she readied her stance before briefly glancing toward the other members.

Then, the woman vanished. Quick enough to startle Song a second time. The sound of the cat was heard again, a fair distance away.

Had they been compromised? The answer was: most likely. By the more proactive members, Défrayer and Amethyst debated the need to pursue the teleporter. Really, her inexperience practically barred Song from making any strategies for the mission. In sensing her lack in being particularly useful to the situation, she would just follow orders.

Orders promptly spoken by Ematille. Song might not have been familiar with most of the members, but as the second faction’s leader, she couldn’t not know who he was. His authority in this matter was to be followed. She quickly fell in place, coming to stand beside the man.

“Yes, sir..” even despite her soft tone, there was a quiet underlying sternness to it. Reflective of the dire need to hurry. For a moment, as the other members seemed to begin adjusting their formation, Song looked up at the taller man. “Do you require me to do anything else?”

It might technically be her first real mission, but training under Vermillion had proven to strengthen her combat skills. Still new, still inexperienced, but the first faction leader had been ruthless in her training schedule. She wasn’t completely useless. She had enough confidence in her ability to assist.


Location: Observatory ll Mentions: Group 2, Andrius & Aurelius ll Interactions: Dorian


[ SONG GRACIE ]

Four months is not a lot of time to prepare oneself for the do or die lifestyle of Arcana. However, maybe there was never enough time to truly prepare for it.

Song wasn’t sure how ready she was for this mission. She’d been sent on minor ones before, nothing so dangerous. But if Vermillion and Nemesis had enough faith in her that they trust her enough to assign her to this one today, she tried to muster her confidence and put on a steely front. The goosebumps on her arms and the building anticipation betrayed her.

To be split from the majority of the first faction had added to her unease. At least, among the Arcana members who she wasn’t familiar with, she had Arum to turn to. That tiny bit of reassurance that he was also with her, gave her some relief.

So, she pushed on, remaining silent to stay focused as she kept up with the group heading for the observatory. Amethyst aiding them in providing a torch to light the path ahead, but when it was handed to Pawn, Song could see the shakiness of the woman’s hand. She couldn’t help but bite her lip in concern. Was she..okay? Not like Song herself was any less nervous than what Pawn appeared to be. But she knew enough that she couldn’t let herself slip up on this particular mission.

That much was clear when there were traps that were being triggered. Just another thing to raise her alarms and set her on edge. Quick footwork amounted to swift dodges, but most of the arrows were skillfully deflected by Défrayer. Nerves were buzzing, heartbeat was racing. Still, when she had a moment to catch her breath, she reminded herself to keep it together. She held her head back up.

The distraction was Défrayer speaking up, to take the lead as to figure out the working mechanics of the traps. To listen and watch as they took a moment to advance with caution. Eventually coming to overturn a tile to unveil a hidden staircase. The group might’ve inched closer to get a better look.

They only had a moment to do so, before they were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a cat. The group might have simultaneously turned to locate the source. Then, in a flash a woman appeared. The adrenaline from before rushed back, and Song gripped onto the knife holstered at her hip in a reflex. In anticipation of a potential fight, she readied her stance before briefly glancing toward the other members.

Then, the woman vanished. Quick enough to startle Song a second time. The sound of the cat was heard again, a fair distance away.

Had they been compromised? The answer was: most likely. By the more proactive members, Défrayer and Amethyst debated the need to pursue the teleporter. Really, her inexperience practically barred Song from making any strategies for the mission. In sensing her lack in being particularly useful to the situation, she would just follow orders.

Orders promptly spoken by Ematille. Song might not have been familiar with most of the members, but as the second faction’s leader, she couldn’t not know who he was. His authority in this matter was to be followed. She quickly fell in place, coming to stand beside the man.

“Yes, sir..” even despite her soft tone, there was a quiet underlying sternness to it. Reflective of the dire need to hurry. For a moment, as the other members seemed to begin adjusting their formation, Song looked up at the taller man. “Do you require me to do anything else?”]

It might technically be her first real mission, but training under Vermillion had proven to strengthen her combat skills. Still new, still inexperienced, but the first faction leader had been ruthless in her training schedule. She wasn’t completely useless. She had enough confidence in her ability to assist.


Location: Observatory ll Mentions: Group 2, Andrius & Aurelius ll Interactions: Dorian​
 

▶️ Nemesis vs The Fischken​

"On it!" Nemesis sprung forth, hastened steps echoing off the dungeon's cold, damp walls.

As a dagger embedded itself in the monster's skull, the creature let out an ear-piercing shrill, dropping the guard in its maw. It dived after its quarry, only to be intercepted by Nemesis, his swift blade, glinting in the dim light, slashed through the air in two rapid strokes, forcing the creature to twist and coil to evade his attacks.

With its attention now on the swordman, the creature hissed aggressively before bolting at him, like a viper striking unsuspecting prey. Nemesis had only a heartbeat to react as the monster tried to swipe him with its razor talons.

Narrowly ducking beneath the creature's death grip, the vice leader felt its claws waft through a shock of blond hair. As the creature's long body flew over him, he thrust his sword upward, gashing it. But the wound was shallow, like a cat scratch, not deep enough to bring it down, not by a long shot.

Of course... I was worried that'd be the case. Beneath those feathers, it has armour-like scales. This thing is going to be harder to kill than I would've hoped... Great...

Enraged, the injured creature lashed out at Nemesis with its tail, knocking him back through the air. With a determined growl, he struck his sword into the ground, sparks flying as he brought himself to a halt.

The man clenched his teeth and snarled, stifling his pain. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as he locked eyes with the creature's soulless gaze.

Exhale.

Then, they rushed at each other once more.

Breathe.

One...

Breathe.

Two...

Breathe.

Three...

Breathe.

Now!

As if time slowed, the swordsman sidestepped past the creature, twisting on his heel, like a matador, as he yanked Vermillion's dagger from the monster's skull and tossed it back to its owner.

"Catch! ... I think this belongs to you."

Without a moment of hesitation, he swung his sword, but the creature twisted its serpentine body out of his blade's reach. The monster clawed at him, but Nemesis danced back, narrowly avoiding the razor-sharp talons that sought to rend him limb from limb. With a swift counterattack, he brought his sword down in a sweeping arc, the blade singing as it clashed against the creature's scales.

Clawing and lunging, the belligerent creature tried to force itself upon the swordsman, wrapping its talons around his blade. The man held his ground, pushing back with all his strength. Forced onto one knee, he leaned back, avoiding the creature's snapping beak, rolling his neck with the agility of a seasoned pit fighter, his head mere inches away from being cleaved clean off his shoulder. Though, he wouldn't be able to hold it off forever.


Icon_Andrius.png
ANDRIUS

 
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Scene 001
Pawn
Emersyn Illiro

Emersyn gasped as she fumbled the watch. An inspection briefly stole her attention despite Vanitas sneering down at her. “It’s not broken if it still has a use,” she wanted to argue, but the man spoke before she was given the opportunity. Emersyn held her tongue and flinched upon his final remarks. Aware of his waning patience with her, she wagered it would be wise to keep her comment to herself. She remained still in mild shock until his departing footsteps ceased to be heard and finally, she released a shaken breath— one she hadn’t realized she held until now.

She used to wonder if Syr would descend upon Lithos once again the day Vanitas chose to spill roses from his lips rather than thorns. But until that day comes, I will have to brace myself against that sharp tongue of his. However, it wasn’t always just his words that stung Emersyn’s conscience and made her self-worth bleed from her heart. It was the way he looked at her and she hated the way he looked at her. She sensed it — failed to ignore it, actually — while she searched the room and every encounter they shared. And the moment she chose to look him in the eyes, there was either a sneer, disdain, disgust… or all of the above. Emersyn knew she would not win against him. She was too small— too much of nothing to be given any regard. So, she stayed silent and best of all, out of the way.

“I should have kept my mouth shut. It’s not as though anything good ever came out of it...”

Emersyn twisted the notch on her watch as she paced the room with only Vanitas’s parting words and a throb in her chest to keep her company.

✦ ✦ ✦

The state in which Vanitas left Emersyn crushed any remaining resolve by the time she departed with her group. Every step toward the Arva Estate was weighted by the urge to turn back, but alas, she was eventually shrouded in Arva’s perpetual shadow. Emersyn stared down the long hallway through her mask and a shudder ran through her. In all of her years, Emersyn knew a lot could go wrong in a hallway such as this one.

At the mention of her name, Emersyn directed her gaze to Amethyst (her assigned guidance counselor of sorts) and then drifted it to the relic in her hand. The organic shaped torch elicited a warm glow and Emersyn took it in her grasp reluctantly. The light was comforting, but only for a moment until Emersyn finally processed the rest of Amethyst's words. “Lies in my hands? Wait Amethyst— no. I don’t think that’s a good idea—.” Emersyn attempted to return the torch back into Amethyst’s hands, but her body was already being adjusted like a doll for Amethyst to play with. Emersyn winced as Amethyst administered a pat on her head and walked on — all the while regretting (once again) to trust whatever the posh woman gave her harbored harmless intentions. Defeated for the second time today, she pressed her lips firmly into a displeased line. The torch in her hand no longer felt comforting. Instead, it felt heavy with the weight of seven lives now in the palm of her hand. Whichever direction she chose to point could either deliver them to Meredith or their demise.

A fine thread was what Emersyn’s sanity hung from by the time they reached the entrance of the observatory and discovered the gap leading downward due to Defrayer’s curiosity. One trap after the other transformed Emersyn into a weak-kneed, sweating, trembling mess. She genuinely wished to crumble into a thousand pieces right then and there. Had she’d done so, she would have requested for someone to gather her up and drag her until they reached the end. If it had not been for Amethyst’s guiding hand to prop the torch back into position and Defrayer’s swift defense against the traps, things could’ve been far worse.

Along the way, Emersyn used her stigma to check their surroundings and relayed to the group that she couldn’t detect any signs of life. However, Emersyn soon grew perplexed as she noticed a silhouette started to fade in and out of her radar. Out from the corner of her eye was how the silhouette started to appear. What made matters worse for Emersyn was when it got bold and unpredictable in movement. Not to mention, it would soon vanish the moment Emersyn looked in its direction.

At first, Emersyn thought her mental state was ebbing away too fast and she was experiencing hallucinations. She wondered if it was a hiccup in her stigma and worried her usefulness would soon run dry. Emersyn threw an anxious glance to Ematille’s direction out of habit. It was strange though— this entity. It was almost as if it could see her as Emersyn could see it… A sudden chill passed down her spine as she recalled the lie she told Vanitas. She let out a dry laugh of disbelief (denial). It’s just a lie I told him, that’s all. Right?

Before Emersyn could address Ematille, an even more perplexing sound entered the fray. She lifted the torch and peered in the direction of the sound. Lo and behold, it was a raggedy cat. Emersyn blinked at the sight, but before she could begin to question where it came from and how it ended up in that state, she noticed Cyrus carelessly approaching the maimed creature. “Hey… Hold on, Arum,” Emersyn called out just as a flash of red appeared behind the cat.

Their eyes met briefly and Emersyn froze the moment the woman vanished before her eyes.

Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream. Don’t scream… I’m going to scream.

A scream ripped through Emersyn’s throat, only for it to be cut short by the slap of her free hand over her masked mouth. It happened just as Defrayer launched themselves in the woman’s direction— if that was even a woman at all. So, I didn’t lie to Vanitas after all. That bittermelon-looking—

Emersyn nearly wanted to faint, but instead, she hunched over and dry heaved. Upon realization, her head twisted around frantically as she searched the area for hostile entities closing in on their location or to at least check the hostility of the woman from a moment ago.

Emersyn looked up at Defrayer, Amethyst, and Ematille. There were linings of tears along her eyes. She shook her head as she tried to catch her breath, signaling she couldn’t sense anyone. For now, they were safe, but the woman’s presence posed a new threat and Emersyn couldn’t sense her through her stigma. She shot Defrayer with a narrowed gaze. “Why… did you… aggravate… prod the bear… you prodding the sleeping bear… bite back,” Emersyn mumbled through short breaths. There was an underlying irksome in her voice and a tired glance was exchanged with Cyrus. She bit back the urge to reprimand him as well. There was something about Arum that reminded Emersyn of a squishy roll of dough… Emersyn shook her head while she looked at the levels above them. “No one,” she croaked before she cleared her throat and spoke again. “I don’t sense… anyone.”

As the group’s priorities shifted around, Emersyn pulled out her pair of scissors from her leather holster and slowly stood back up. Her body stumbled a bit, remnants of shock still draining through her psyche. She anticipated the urgency which now flowed through the group as she stood beside Samadhi. She peered up at him for a moment before she dipped her head in greeting. I’ll be in your care, she gestured.
#interaction: Dovinique Dovinique (Amythest), OldTurtle OldTurtle (Ematille), Cresion Breezes Cresion Breezes (Defrayer), Dawnsx Dawnsx (Cyrus), ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe (Samadhi), @.Group02
#location: Observatory, Arva Estate
#tags: lucenti lucenti (Vanitas)
Code by Nano
 
Melios Ceriant | Vanitas

The battle began, and with it the group moved forward, piece by piece. Some began to attack the beast, others stayed back as support, while only one was specifically told not to interfere. Though Melios could not see her face, he knew that Dusk's pride must have been stung by the order. Her skin haughty and supercilious; such a stark contrast to the meek Carnelian beside her.

In any case, it was their footsteps that Melios followed towards the unharmed guard. Picking up on Dusk's words, he scoffed softly, almost drowned out like all other quieter sounds by the clash of metal against flesh right next to them. "Naive of you to believe in the survival instincts of the frightened," Melios taunted her, figuratively poking the agitated bear with another stick while using the length of his weapon to pull the guard back before he could move in any direction on his own; possibly to run away, regardless of how stupid that may be. The man was too distracted to immediately fight the blade that was pulling him under his armpit, only beginning to struggle when he was already safely behind Carnelian and Dusk.

Immediately, his shocked gaze shifted from the monster that both Nemesis and Vermillion were currently fighting to Melios as he instinctively raised his fists to protect himself. His original weapon was out of reach, dropped in fear, so naturally the man had to resort to more primitive means. His subconscious told the coward to defend himself in any way he could, but his growing panic ensured that his attempted blows were nothing more than child's play.

A decisive strike past the guard's inadequate defences had Melios' blade at his throat, successfully putting an end to his antics. For a moment, malice whispered in his ears, and Melios raised the poleaxe, enjoying the way the man had to raise his face to avoid being cut.

Then the urgency of the situation called him back as one aimless swing of the monster's enormous body got a bit too close to comfort to their position. Irritatedly he looked at Carnelian and hissed a complaint, "Place your barriers better," before he cautiously began to crouch in front of the guard.

Melios watched the man, observing his body language to assess whether the use of his ability was necessary. Judging by the way the guard's misty eyes focused on the deadly blade in his immediate vicinity, the silent tremble beneath his armour, and the tense, hunched shoulders that mimicked the arched back of a frightened cat, the man surely had other priorities swirling in his confused mind at the moment than being a hard nut to crack. Ideal for Melios, as it was that mind he needed to peel back to ensure this mission didn't end up as a blind chicken hunt or a pointless sacrifice.

Reaching out with one hand, Melios pinched the guard's jaw between his fingers as he drew his face closer, playing up the intimidation factor. The alienating effect, which the blank space of the mask created on a normally familiar human face, just another added bonus. "As an employee of this estate, I believe you have something useful in your head," Melios began, tapping a soothing rhythm on the man's cheek with one finger, that—considering the situation—was anything but that. "Information that could convince us that the efforts we are making to keep you alive are resources well spent. Otherwise, we might as well just let you end up like your friend," he paused, allowing the words sink in before continuing, "So how about you start with that." Melios nodded towards the biggest problem in the room; the monster masquerading as a pet.


Interactions: dusk fluticasone fluticasone ; carnelian 606 606

Mentions: group 1

 
Cradle of Desire
Scene 001
Bloody_Death Bloody_Death fluticasone fluticasone Zariel Zariel lucenti lucenti A Murder Of Corviknight A Murder Of Corviknight 606 606

The monster, far too engrossed in playing with its food, ignored the presence of the others in the vicinity. Whether it be unaware or simply unconcerned out of a belief that none could bring it harm, its lack of attention would result in a dagger being lodged right into the soft spot between its eye and the scales protecting its face. Inky black fluid spilled from its punctured flesh like viscous tears, and a mighty roar shook the spacious dungeon passage, leaving the monster’s prey to be thrown into Vermillion’s arms, long forgotten by the predator.

Angered by the sudden interruption of its mealtime, the feathered serpent twisted and dove after its assailant, only to be intercepted by the deftly wielded blades of Nemesis. Its strike successfully thwarted, the scaled beast snapped at the blonde swordsman, snapping and hissing angrily as it twisted about. Outsmarted and outmaneuvered within the corridors which were wide for humans but a tight fit for monsters of its size, the creature would suffer several blows. However, the injuries would only serve to aggravate it further, more than skin-deep yet not quite enough to penetrate far past its tough hide.

A guttural screech crescendoed into a roar that shook the chilled hallways of the dungeon, no doubt alerting any others underground of its presence—not that any sane guard would approach the enraged guardian of the depths. When its attempts at snapping its jaws at Nemesis’s face failed, it suddenly released its grip upon his blade and pulled the entirety of its body backwards. This time, instead of surging forward to press its momentum into the blonde swordsman, it opened its jaws wide. From amidst its jowls caked with drool, it called forth a stream of water aimed directly for Nemesis, crashing down upon the area like a wave. Before the waist-deep surge of water could recede into the depths of the dungeon, the behemoth slapped at any close enough with its tail and once again lunged for its primary target with snapping jaws.

Fortunately for the panicked guard, Carnelian’s barriers would prevent those within its protective embrace from being swept away by the surging waters, harmlessly wetting their boots (or pants for the collapsed guard) at worst. However, the guard wouldn’t even have half the mind to pay attention to the movements of the monster, given his current predicament at being pressed for answers by a clearly unfriendly crew of intruders.

“It’s…it was the only surviving monster from its batch. The Arvas, they-” loose lips began blubbering half-nonsense, but his words were cut short by a dull thump. A wheeze, then a cough hacked up blood as the guard collapsed forward. From the dim lighting of Leif’s lamp illuminating the dark corridor, a faint glint briefly outlined the shape of a crystalline dagger embedded into the left side of the guard’s back. Though the pain radiating from the wound shook his frame, it became clear from his difficulty breathing that the translucent object had punctured his lung.

“Be a dear and sew that cute little mouth of yours shut, won’t you?” a tranquil voice spoke from down the dark corridor, silky but not sugar sweet. Slow, measured footfalls heralded the arrival of a moderately tall man with sandy blonde hair. He fiddled with a small, pale blue knife, slowly rolling it over his fingers until it eventually sat snugly within his palm. Though his dress was neat but simple, an ornate scabbard holding a short sword hung by his side, and a golden brooch forged into the shape of a sun decorated the lapel of his white coat.

“Cyril,” he said, nonchalant in his manner of providing his name (or was it an alias?) to the intruders, “and I assume you’re the little princess’s entourage? A pleasure, I’m sure.”


OldTurtle OldTurtle nios nios Dovinique Dovinique Cresion Breezes Cresion Breezes Aukanai Aukanai Dawnsx Dawnsx ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe

Within the depths of the layer hidden away underneath the observatory, a blue-haired woman looked upon the figure collapsed at her feet with disgust. “I should have killed you the moment I found you sneaking around father’s laboratory like the stinking rat that you are.” Jamming her right foot underneath the figure’s stomach, she gave the body a harsh shove and rolled the woman onto her back. Her hands and feet were bound within iron shackles, and her thin figure was wrought with various injuries sustained during her three days of captivity.

Undeterred by the blood trickling into her eye and the dirt caking her clothes after being tossed about by her older sister during their “long awaited” reunion, Meredith laughed weakly before spitting onto Valeria’s shoe. “Better a rodent than a dog who wags her tail for a queen who doesn’t know how to rule her people.” Valeria’s grip on her cane tightened, and the smaller woman took that as encouragement to continue. “They’ve turned a blind eye to your little experiments, but do you think they’d let you go if you killed me right here and now? I’m the only one who kn-”

Her gloating would be cut off by another kick, this time with the point of Valeria’s heeled toe connecting with her nose, crushing the back of her head into the stone wall behind her. Black filled her vision, clearing only in time to witness her older sister sitting atop a silvery white mound. Meredith grit her teeth through the pain, her mocking smile having been entirely replaced by the rage that had been present in her eyes since she’d been captured.

“I put her out of her misery. How dare you desecrate her corpse like this,” crazed eyes narrowed, but it only elicited a laugh from the woman.

Suddenly, Valeria stood, followed suit by the svelte body of the creature she’d briefly used as a seat to taunt Meredith. Fins, reminiscent to that of a beta fish’s, gently waved in the air, its whiskers twitching as if scenting the stale air within the circular arena the three were gathered within.

The pair stared at the door at the base of the spiral staircase down to the room, roughly fifty feet from where they stood.

“Those useless guards,” Valeria spat and tapped her cane against the floor thrice. The moment someone opened the door—whether they opened it or broke it down—thick vines would drop from above, attempting to entangle its first victim in its thorny embrace.
Code by Nano
 
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Akseli Arbeit — Rattler

The Engine'er maintained careful vigil, waiting for Knightmare and Spinel to convene around the door. Akseli shifted, vaguely aware of the two sets of footfalls approaching him, eyes scanning down the corridor, shadows lit by the flickering light. His breathing rasped through his metal helm, curiously loud in the near-total silence of the manor's halls. Akseli's helm shifted, vertical slits admitting only the palest light, the gray moons gleaming softly beneath the black helm. Despite the night's cold chill outside, it was becoming infernally hot, his padded jacket slick with sweat and the fur-lined, black cloak hung heavy off his shoulders and collar, uncomfortable. He took a moment to slow his breathing, gray eyes now on Spinel as his mentor discovered the door hadn't been locked; immediately acknowledging the possibility of guards within the cell. Rattler turned, one hand going down to the leather blackjack strapped around his waist.

Rattler stepped away from the cell's door, halfway to the centre of hall, using the wooden door's simple outline to obfuscate his presence. A woman's head peered almost through barely-open doorway, the thick metal rod a blur as Spinel struck the guard's head, body slumping in a violent thump against the door, forcing it to crash against the stone wall with a loud crack ringing round corners. Ratter's eyes narrowed at the sharp sound, almost wincing from the impact alone.

However, Rattler didn't hesitate. He charged, dodging around the limp body of the unconscious guard, sword flat against shoulder. The chilling, gray blade caught the glint of the shifting flames. But it was not the turn of the Engine'er's weapon to strike, providing only the glaring display of a potential threat. The remaining guard was almost forced up against the cell's far wall before his body locked, the unseen eye now made manifest beside Rattler's helm, Rattler threw back his left-side, blackjack in hand. The blunt weapon went high and hard from left to right, the leather-bound lead weight slamming into the guard's cheek, head snapping to one side. He brought him down with a final, huge overhand blow. The impact knocked loose the guard's grip on his consciousness. His back hit the wall, slumping against it, falling to the ground with his feet slipping beneath him, then onto his shoulder.

For all his preparations, Akseli still found this distasteful. The surge of disgust provided a measure of comfort to the Engine'er's conscience —Akseli preferred to feel it, a strange assurance that meant he had not gotten use to the violence, bloodied or bloodless. He breathed, heart pounding hard in his chest, a furious tattoo. The blackjack was sheathed at his hip again. Akseli turned back, observing the cell—its appearance bearing a luxurious splendour, from the rosewood table, the uneaten plate of food, the soft, quilt-lined bedding to the state of the prisoner himself, unbound and unblemished by mistreatment. If they haven't been dispatched to rescue him, Akseli would forgive himself for thinking that they had walked into a lowborn noble's chambers.

The Engine'er cast a glance as the hefty bookshelf slid out, revealing an opening in the wall. He nodded to Basil's suggestion and began following his mentor, his stature bent forward slightly to not hit his head or greatsword on the entrance's header. For a moment, Akseli gave silent thanks that hall had been taller than the opening.

"Is there anything else we need to acquire before we reconvene with the others?" Akseli asked, his voice a lowly whisper in the lengthening corridor.

Interactions: Nano Nano (Spinel, Basil & Guards)
Mentions: N/A
 
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9 of wands
location
Dungeon.
interactions
Vanitas, Cyril.
mentions
Group 1 peeps.
Gio "Carnelian" Castello.

Gio since the morning has been on auto-pilot mode for a while. They were moved and fell silent for some time as training happened and soon the group they were assigned to left to travel through the cool damp tunnels, many with the first faction they heard people refer to it as. Gio was shocked they were in the 3rd faction after all, but it mostly was because of their focus. Gio knew the world was a problem, that the government was the issue however, with their sister ill, on their potential deathbed, finding a cure, or some way to ease their sister's pain, there was no time to focus on the bigger issue at the moment. They had to help her first. Near the back of the group, their attention was drawn out of their thoughts as Nemesis spoke giving orders and waiting to see if Vermillion agreed and would prepare, their blank eyes narrowing in complete focus.

"Carnelian, after we distract the monster, your job will be to shield the injured guard, we need to keep him alive for a little while longer. Take Dusk with you."

“Yes sir,” they responded softly, their eyes wandering to Dusk for a moment before glancing towards the leader of the first faction as they spoke words of encouragement, or at least what GIo assumed was encouragement.

"Stay vigilant and remain calm."

"Whether your training is complete to not, you're all already more than capable of protecting yourselves and each other."

"If you all perform well, maybe I'll consider giving you a lot half a day off."

"Be careful of anyone or anything that may be coming due to the sound that's about to be made.".


The words of Aurelian as a dragger left their hands, Gio dashed out towards the guard, standing in between them and the serpentine beast, for the first time really getting a good look at the creature, fear flashing across their eyes but they shook their head as they held up their left hand, their hand glowing for a moment as the air infront of them shimmered for a second before returning to normal yet their hand remained glowing.

“Get between us if you don't want to die,” the voice of Dusk came from behind Gio as they glanced backward, seeing that Dusk had joined and followed. Soon enough Vanitas ad also joined behind them and their eyes for a moment returned to the fight infront of them, watching the movements of those fighting.

The way the older members fought was captivating, and Gio wanted nothing else but to learn - learn so they could protect what matters to them, and truly for a second, forgetting the three behind them that they were told to protect at the moment until, a thud, a crack in Gio’s barrier.

“Place your barries better,” a hiss from Vantis and Gio glazed back and nodded, looking as if they had just returned to reality. “Y-yes sir. I’m sorry” they said, both hands now up as the air shimmed once more. In Gio’s eyes, it was like a transparent blue glass, as they put their hands against the barrier and pulled the barrier wider then curving it slightly, while it was no dome it was much better suited to protect the group from the beast and water.

At this time, As Vanitas questioned the guard, herding the guard to cough, with one hand still out touching the barrier, Gio turned around a bit more to see a figure appear from the shadow, and just as quick as the man would appear, Gio hand would whip around, a dome like a shimmer in the air as Gio stepped closer to Dusk, the guard, and Vanitas, creating a dome now around them, but unsure what to say as they seemed to introduce themselves.

Gio made a note of a few things, a blue knife in their hands, well-dress, a sword at their side, a brooch in the shape of a sun, Gio didn’t know what any of this meant but they did know this: this person, Cyril, wasn’t with them, to begin with, and seemed hostile as they were carefully moved themselves to be between the group and this man, coming face to face with the much taller man (or well, much taller because Gio is very short).

“And what’s it to you?” They blurted out, staring the blonde down, scared for sure but not willing to back down, they were going to live or die trying. “What do you want?"
coded by natasha.
 
Bippity boppity booo
Cyrus︱Arum

In contrast to the perilous journey to the observatory, the trek down the spiral staircase was quick and painless. Yet this was no doubt the calm before the storm. By the time the group made it to a door at the base of the stairs, Cyrus’s nerves were buzzing in alarm to an unseen threat.

Cyrus hung back while Arakan, at the vanguard of the group, opened the door – and was immediately glad that he did when a tangle of vines dropped down from above.

Leaving Arakan to deal with the trap, Cyrus quickly assessed the room, his mouth dropping open in shock as he did. His gaze was immediately drawn to the odd creature, one that was quadruped yet fishlike in appearance. Cyrus’s mind raced as he searched through his mental catalog of animals that he’d learned about back in the room. Could it be an axolotl...? Were they this big?

Cyrus shook himself. It didn’t matter right now what the fish-dog was! More importantly, Meredith was on the floor, looking like she was at Death’s door (heh) with a haughty-looking woman beside the creature. No doubt the enemy.

With a single thought, Cyrus activated his stigma, his target being both the woman and her strange pet.
Code by Nano
 
Dorian Alfieri | Ematille

Illuminated only by the lantern held aloft by the vanguard, the staircase seemed to spiral on endlessly into the dark. Down, down, down, the insurgents descended. The sound of their footsteps echoed hollowly against their stone surroundings, painfully loud in their haste to move forward. Anyone below would've long since been made aware of their approach. It was good, then, that Pawn's stigma continued to sense only two presences at the end of their path rather than dozens of guards with blades drawn. Perhaps it was a sign of his overreliance that he wished the magic was just a tad more descriptive in its sensory capabilities. Even knowing the number of their potential opponents was more than anyone else had. He should address that at a later date. Instead they quickly drafted a rudimentary strategy as they hurried, taking advantage of the brief reprieve and relative peace of the stairwell.

Their loose formation held as the end of the stairway came into sight, halting at a rough stone floor leading to a single, small door set into the wall. Scarcely a few dozen feet from the origin of Pawn's odd signals, the makeshift unit moved with a practiced grace. Samadhi forced his way through the wooden door first, immediately being set upon by a tangle of snaring vines from above. Trusting their most experienced combatant to handle himself, Dorian slipped into the chambers beyond with his slender blade in one hand and working at the dials on his watch with the other.

Tick, tick, tick...

There lay Meredith across the room, bruised, bloody, and beaten but patently alive; Dorian was moderately pleased. Wonderful. And beside her stood a much taller woman with a distinct resemblance to their dearly beloved Death. Much less wonderful. Lady Valeria Arva did not number amongst the highest ranked of the list of people the nobleman thought likely to encounter on their expedition, but clearly she hadn't received the memorandum. Arva was an entirely unknown variable, one he failed to accurately estimate. The vines were her doing no doubt, but there was no telling what other capabilities she wielded -- alongside that strange, aquiline creature of hers: no doubt another of the Arva's ghastly experiments. Odd, had she thought the secrecy was safety enough, or was she simply that confident in her own defenses? Dorian's eyes narrowed. No, something else was afoot.

Unfortunately, he had neither the time nor freedom to approach the situation cautiously, and so used the commotion of their entrance to slip aside, fading into the background. Dorian hung about the fringes as the others engaged. He expected each member was capable enough to manage without his direct supervision. If not, then they were no great loss. His priority remained largely on retrieving Death. If there were an opportunity, Foxglove and Samadhi could ensure her safety and escort her to the surface and off the grounds posthaste. Eliminating the head of House Arva would be a great boon to Arcana and a thorn in the queendom's side, but it was risky to divide his attention between both goals. There was much too little time left as it was.

Tick, tick, tick...

And if there was one thing Dorian was good at, it was keeping time.

Interactions:

Mentions:
Group 2

Location: Underground, Arva Estate

 
fluticasone fluticasone
dusk
name
titania iseult
location
dungeon w/ group 1
interactions
vanitas ( lucenti lucenti ) carnelian ( 606 606 ) cyril ( Nano Nano )
Every minute spent with the Arcana members was yet another reason to train, if only she could gain the strength to send them flying. She heard every word Vanitas said. Dusk knew she could knock him out right now if she wanted - and it was such a tempting idea - but Vermillion wouldn't tolerate insubordination. It was still far too early to push her case.
Dusk ignored the interrogation; she didn't know Carnelian well enough to trust him with the barrier. She kept herself ready, her arrow always ready to fly in case Nemesis decided to call on her. It was doubtful, but he'd be forced to cede if Vermillion was the one who asked.
Whatever Nemesis and Vermillion did, it only served to aggravate the creature further. The screech made her stomach churn and ears ring, but few would be brave or stupid enough to go towards the source of such a monstrous noise. She doubted if she herself would go if she didn't have a team to assist her. The serpent monster, ironically, bought them some time. If they wanted to investigate the roar, they would have to gather the men to do so first.
“It’s…it was the only surviving monster from its batch. The Arvas, they-” She turned around as felt the guard collapsedt, almost slipping as the ground grew soaked with the serpent's power. Time? What time? Someone was already here.
“Be a dear and sew that cute little mouth of yours shut, won’t you?” As he came closer, she pulled back the string. He introduced himself before she could demand answers. "Cyril, and I assume you’re the little princess’s entourage? A pleasure, I’m sure."
She'd scold Carnelian later for failing to properly protect the man, though the disgust and disappointment was clear even through the mask. One wrong move and it could've been them instead of the guard.
“Stay back.”
Dusk's voice was coated in authority that she'd learned to wield. Of course someone like Cyril would show up when they didn't have Meredith's power.
“Cyril,”
She kept the bow aimed and taut while she spoke, ignoring the man dying at her feet.
“You seem keen on keeping him quiet. Care to explain why? What's this about Arvas?”
She chose not to answer his statement; the less he knew of them, the better for Arcana.
 
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Yenoia Abillene | Amethyst

Following Dorian's directive, Yenoia found herself positioned in the second line of formation, standing beside a crimson-haired man from the 1st faction. While couldn’t quite recall his name, memories of the man who often spent time with him, Daemon, lingered vividly in her mind. He had been a sight for sore eyes, and it felt like a loss to see him depart. Yet, the man beside her possessed a striking countenance of his own, albeit tainted with a hint of cunningness that cast a shadow over his smile, rendering it suspicious in her eyes. It was his luxuriant hair that captivated Yenoia the most, how did he maintain such impeccably beautiful hair? Her hand drifted involuntarily towards the strands, almost reaching to touch them before stopping midway. She caught herself just in time and would have dismissed the gesture as merely flicking away bugs if she had followed through.

Guess the individuals from the 1st faction were indeed the epitome of beauty. Witnessing Vermillion's delicate grooming, it came as no surprise that his team mirrored their leader's meticulousness. Perhaps sometimes Yenoia regretted her decision to move to the 2nd faction, realizing she could have stood among them, becoming part of their luxurious, exquisite ensemble. She glanced back over her shoulder, her gaze drifting from Ematille to Defrayer, then to Pawn, before returning to the front with a sigh, resigning herself to her current position. Well, at the very least, the 2nd faction was... unique.

Following that, the journey proved to be less demanding than the previous one. Yenoia managed to traverse the entire distance without pausing. Soon, they arrived at a door, a plain, unremarkable one leading to an uncertain destination, its simplicity casting a veil of suspicion. Grateful not to be at the forefront, her position allowed Samadhi to confront the sudden drop of veins as he opened the door. Following the others, she quietly slipped into the room and positioned herself at the back of the group. The metallic scent of blood pervaded Yenoia's senses as she came to a standstill in her spot. Combined with the musty odor of dampness, the room exuded an atmosphere reminiscent of a tomb. Yenoia took a deep breath, closing her eyes and embracing the foul air enveloping her. It's been a while…

Her attention shifted to Death, their target for retrieval, who was covered in blood and grime. Despite the severity of her wounds, they were not life-threatening, as evidenced by her labored but steady breathing. How long had it been? Three days? Two days? Regardless of the exact duration, it was evident that Death's captor was adept at inflicting pain without crossing the threshold into fatality, a twisted form of expertise deserving of recognition. Out of habit, Yenoia scrutinized Death's condition, squinting to assess the extent of her injuries. A crushed nose, a head wound which was likely a laceration or contusion, bruises adorning her body, and probable cuts on her hands and feet from the shackles. There might even be broken ribs. A peculiar sensation washed over Yenoia as she observed the blood flowing from Death's head and nose, her own blood pulsing with an inexplicable ecstasy. Suppressing the almost reflexive smile that threatened to surface, Yenoia eagerly anticipated treating Death once they returned to headquarters.

Enough with Death, Yenoia's gaze then settled on the woman beside her, a figure not entirely unfamiliar, though they had not crossed paths often. This woman, undoubtedly the kidnapper of Death, exuded an aura of skill and prowess. Standing confidently beside a peculiar, otherworldly creature, she held her cane with a sense of authority, as if prepared to confront their group of seven. Yenoia couldn't help but feel a sense of respect for her adversary. If circumstances were different, she thought, she might have invited her to an afternoon tea and engaged in a conversation about the methods used on Death... purely for future references medical discussion, of course.

As a non-combatant, Yenoia remained on high alert but refrained from taking action. Instead, she addressed the group, offering her expertise, "Bring Death to me before anything else. I'll ease her pain and provide quick first aid. Then you can proceed with whatever is needed."

Interaction: Group 2
Mention: Daemon, Vermillion, 1st Faction, 2nd Faction
 
looking for schrodinger's image
Leif Sterna | Magpie
As the monster reared back, Leif assumed that it was going to lunge at Nemesis again and bolted a few meters away. Only the monster didn’t lunge and snap at the blonde again. Instead, it…blasted the swordsman with a stream of…water? Drool?

“...Did this count as the monster’s vomit?”


Leif made a face while muttering under his breath. While he wasn’t in the main area of impact, the crash of the water(?) still made him stumble and slide back. He ended up accidentally dropping the torch in his hand from the impact. The floating sword also seemed to sputter in place a little and comically thunked the flat of the blade against the snout of the monster mid-lunge.



HSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!

"Oops! That wasn’t supposed to happen,"
he quietly said with a held back laugh as he shook some of the monster’s water off his boots as the monster gave an angry thrash.
"At least I didn’t stab anyone though."


The now distracted monster only made a more infuriated scream and started to chase the floating sword instead of Nemesis.

Realizing now that the monster was pretty serious about trying to eat or at least break the flying sword within its frankly vicious jaws, Leif yanked the sword out of harm's way. Then, the Third Faction member hurried to scramble back his way closer to Nemesis and Vermillion again. As the angry feathered monster whipped its tail before lunging forward with jaws opened wide, Leif made the sword dive for the monster’s open jaw at an angle to have it jam right as it tried to snap its jaws closed.

!!!

The monster, seeming to be confused yet angry, gave another infuriated roar as it now thrashed to get the sword that was functionally a stuck thorn out of its mouth.
 
Melios Ceriant | Vanitas

Melios paid no attention to the sudden chilling roar that rippled through the damp air or the general turmoil of the ongoing battle behind him. There were only a few members whose capabilities he truly trusted, and most of those currently dealing with the monster had proven time and again that they deserved his approval. So, even though his body was racked with unease and his instincts told him to focus on the biggest threat and not look away until its breath was nothing more than a dying gasp, Melios knew that would be an unnecessary distraction from his current task.

As if on cue, the guard finally began to speak. Slight stuttering and growing panic laced his speech, making it difficult to understand on top of everything else. Yet just as he was about to get to the more useful parts, they were just as quickly rudely interrupted. The familiar glimmer of a blade was the only warning before the man lurched forward, eyes wide and hands clutching his armour. Surprised, Melios reeled back slightly, avoiding most of the blood coughed up by the guard, though drops still stained the lower parts of his mask and upper chest. He suppressed the immediate urge to wipe it away, a slight disgust churning in his stomach. At once, Melios turned to the source of the interruption, taking in the silent arrival of another —this time more humanoid— foe.

The stranger introduced himself in a manner that spoke of either confidence or arrogance, but before Melios could react in any way, Carnelian was already approaching the man. Fearless, as if they hadn't just witnessed Cyril deliver the guard they were supposed to protect to his deathbed. Perhaps their barrier gave them a kind of unfounded bravado, even though they had just proved how reliable they really were when it counted. His eyes narrowed in silent disapproval, and though Melios knew he had to hold his tongue for now, he would love to have a talk with Carnelian later. They were lucky that the babbling guard was considered a greater threat than any of them.

Turning back to the dying man, Melios knelt down and examined the wound carefully. The guard's labored breathing left no doubt as to the severity of the injury, and with no healer or medical assistance nearby, his time was ticking away. With the other guard still unresponsive, their sources of valuable information were quickly dwindling. It was crucial that this man kept talking.

"Keep going, and skip anything unimportant that won't get you stabbed again for saying it out loud," he hissed at the guard, turning a deaf ear to the obvious pain he was in. Amethyst's presence would have been much appreciated right about now. "Do you really want to spend your last moments in pathetic obedience to your own murderer?" Hatred was a great motivation, stronger than any fear in the face of pain and an inevitable fate. Perhaps the idea of getting one over on Cyril and helping the people who were clearly anything but his friends would be enough to get the guard through the increasing lack of air and clarity. Though, Melios knew better than to get his hopes up.

He stood up and faced Cyril once again. For a moment, Melios' eyes lingered on Dusk, and he hoped —not only for her sake— that Nemesis' earlier concerns about her aim had been exaggerated. When the time called, he didn't want her waiting for a signal that might never come. In any case, even with Carnelian partially covering Cyril, the view he had was enough, and Melios wasn't going to wait passively to react to whatever the man threw at them next. It was idiotic to think that he would reveal any of his plans to them and answer their questions, so Melios saw no need to wait and see what he would say.

Hiding his left hand behind his body, Melios activated his Stigma. Taking deep breaths in between, he could feel the familiar rush of power stirring beneath his skin as the link between them settled.

At best it would give them an opportunity and time, at worst nothing would happen.


Interactions: guard 'wimpy'; cyril ( Nano Nano )

Mentions: group 1; amethyst

 
A Family Affair
Arakan︱Samadhi

The journey down the staircase is simple. Which is unusual in and of itself. No guards, no traps, not even so much as a peep. So very out of the ordinary. No, Arakan is on high alert for some silliness to occur, so when Arakan simply kicks down the door to find a mass of vines reaching out for him, the man can't help but laugh out loud. The vines reach down, grasping at him, trying to coil about his arms and legs. But even amongst the fighters of Arcana, Arakan perhaps would have been one of the worst targets for this- for his weapon could not be tangled. All he needed was will.

Even as the vines pull him off of the floor, the man's smug smile doesn't waver. Arakan's fingers shift into certain handsigns, as he calmly incants, as if he was simply waving away a fly.

"Sword Method."

His relic burns, blood being drawn from his body, multipled, as he shifts the mana within his body- honing the emission from a blast to a blade. The vines are torn apart in a spray of crimson, letting Arakan land upon the ground gracefully. He gives Meredith a little wave and a smirk, before turning his gaze from his bruised and beaten comrade to her captor. Hm. The resemblance really was uncanny.

"Oya oya, my friend. It seems you found yourself in quite the pickle. Don't feel too bad about needing a hand, hm? We all have trouble with family." Arakan gives the haughty woman a wink, as his eyes take in the rest of the scene, "As for you- Don't bother with calling for the guards. Someone else seems to have dealt with them, if you can believe it!"

Oho! That creature in the back- what a fascinating specimen! He'd have loved to take a better look at it, but in times like these, discovery sadly had to take a backseat. If it was a tamed sort of beast, then it'd probably get sent after this little rescue party- he'd only be able to get bits of its corpse after that. What a shame, what a shame. Ah, well. Teasing Meredith about needing to be rescued like a damsel would be more than enough entertainment for the next few weeks!

"I'll take care of the inconveniences. Someone grab our friend before she has an aneurysm at the indignity."


Arakan rushes forward, inhumanly swift as he pushes the mana within his body to enhance every step. That woman likely had set that vine trap- with such an ability, closing the distance to prevent her from controlling the battlefield would be wise. He was ready to clash with that beast too, if it attempted to hold him at bay. As long as he made enough of a distraction to get Meredith out, this would be a successful mission.
Code by Nano
 
Zenith "Zeni" Rota || Défrayer

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"If you say so then, Ema-ma." Zenith sheathed their weapon after hearing the others, including Dorian's analysis of the situation. To be frank, they were not quite eager to chase down a person who can teleport either, it seemed like an exhausting ordeal, and a waste of their precious ticking time on their stigma.

They stood around somewhat alertly while gazing around as the group entered the trap door hatch they previously uncovered, holding back the urge to simply stuff all the slower moving ones in like one would do to a piece of unorganized luggage. With a final gaze around the area they had just come from, Zenith hopped into the hatch at the rear end of the line, and clicked the trap door closed. It was rather dark down there, even with the light-emitting tool that they had..."procured" from the Third, it was still a bit hard to see. Although that might be due to the person holding the light relic being quite a distance away from Zenith, the light source dragged out each of the group member's shadows into a long distorted form, blocking the already meager amount of light that could reach Zenith.

"Heyyy~ Heyyoo~ Would anyone enlighten me to the conditions on the front?" The entire trip was rather quiet, almost in the realm of 'too quiet' for Zenith, they playfully asked ahead whether anything was happening, their voice echoed a bit in the downward corridor. It wasn't until they reached the end that something finally happened.

"Woah woah, make way make way." Zenith pushed their way through the few less combative team members in the middle of the line, as the narrow corridor became a much more spacy room. In the room was their target, Meredith, as well as another woman who was assaulting her and a monster. At least it wasn't super large. Zenith thought quietly to themselves. The situation here was decently clear, and so were their goals. The initial trap, or what seemed like a trap at the entrance was already disposed of by the front-end vanguard, and a few of them are even bracing for combat. They were from the First and the Third though, so it's not like Zenith could really tell what exactly they were doing.

"Aye aye Ame, seems like they're a bit preoccupied." Zenith nodded towards the two who were trying to engage while the team's doctor' suggested focusing on their actual mission. "I suppose I will handle it then."

With a flash and activation of their stigma, Zenith dashed ahead, separating from where the main group was clustered. The weird guy from the Third said he would handle things, and as far as the vines were handled, it seems like he kept his word. Their heightened senses during the stigma's activation allowed them to take a better look at both the other woman and the monster with her, the woman did look...familiar indeed. Arcana has surprised them again and again with the number of high-class people involved with them, to the point where Zenith is beginning to think this is some conspiratorial trap set up by the ruling class to lure in potential dissenters in order to stamp them out in one go. Or maybe it's some new-fangled form of revolution they came up with. I'll name it 'trickle-down revolution'. Zenith thought.

In a blink of an eye, Zenith has managed to close in on where Meredith was laying, and would attempt to grab her and drag her back, being thankful for her relatively smaller size compared to their own. She was probably the easiest to drag out of all the people who may get kidnapped and needs to be dragged back.



Location: Arvas Estate

Interactions: Group 2, Yenoia ( Dovinique Dovinique )

Mentions: Anyone Present. Group 2

 
Scene 001
Pawn
Emersyn Illiro

Emersyn slipped through the opening and found herself before the stone spiral stairwell. She sucked in her lips and approached the edge. The grip on the torch tightened the moment she looked down. She wanted to drop something to anticipate the depth, but having heard the others about to make their descent, Emersyn stepped away from the edge and joined the formation.

✦ ✦ ✦
A slew of incoherent whispers mingled among labored pants as Emersyn stepped ahead in haste. There lacked a moment of rest for the vanguard who multitasked between reducing the chance of tripping and staying alert for anything hostile closing in on their ranks. The others must have felt this intermission was a needed break, but a break could not be bestowed to the vanguard who continued to exhaust her efforts into monitoring their surroundings. A dribble of sweat scored along the side of her temple and tacked the clothing on her back to her skin. The unsettling feeling continued to stir in her gut the deeper they traversed into the dark abyss. For now, they were safe from any potential threats, but what may lie at the end of the stairwell remained unknown to her.

Emersyn did her best to match her accompanying vanguard’s steps. Unlike her, Samadhi looked as if he hadn’t broken a single sweat. Bastard. Emersyn recognized the man (more like she recognized his boisterous "oya~ oya~" and his irritating smirk) whenever she lurked around Arcana's research areas. Perhaps, Emersyn should have passed the torch to Samadhi (longer arm meant further reach, after all). But before she could suggest handing it to him, a pair of silhouettes entered her stigma’s range. Emersyn squinted through the dark — two silhouettes, one of which seemed in a clump on the ground. An uncertain hum resonated from her before she relayed to the others of the situation ahead.

Once they approached the wooden door, Emersyn stared at the two figures beyond it — precisely fifty feet from where they stood. The splintering of the door and the vines whipping out of the crevices caused Emersyn to steer her focused gaze and reel back. She shielded herself as vines lashed and curled for Samadhi’s limbs. As she sought to assist him, the note of laughter and the hint of a smile brought her to a halt. She huffed and re-sheathed her pair of scissors. Why does she bother to worry about him anyway, she wondered.

The first to reach her senses the moment she entered the room was the stench of death, which inevitably led her attention to Death herself in a clump on the ground. Her jaw clenched at the sight of (one of) the source of her survival in such a state. So, that was one of the figures, she realized. Then who was the... Her eyes trailed to the woman standing above Death and then to the creature perched beside her. Ah... It was you... Meredith's captor, whom Emersyn was now eyeing with scrutiny, scored tallies upon Death's body through blood, bruises, and malnourishment. Spare the honorifics for she doesn't deserve Emersyn's respect. Valeria Arva was a name she plucked from a scroll during one of her snooping around the labyrinth. Another target on her list. One less noble is one step closer to them. In a moment of impulsiveness, she urged herself to lunge at the woman — to disregard Amethyst's instruction and relieve the group of a potential threat herself. Yet, there stood Arum in a standstill... and vulnerable. Emersyn shifted between Valeria and Cyrus. In a split moment's decision, a hand snaked through her hair and tugged at a fistful in frustration. Emersyn approached Arum from behind with the intention of nudging him to move on with the plan.
#interaction: @Group02
#location: Arena Arva Estate
#tags: NA
Code by Nano
 
Cradle of Desire
Scene 001
Bloody_Death Bloody_Death fluticasone fluticasone Zariel Zariel lucenti lucenti A Murder Of Corviknight A Murder Of Corviknight 606 606

The great beast continued to thrash, its tail striking against the bars of the adjacent cells lining the halls. From the way they were reinforced with thicker linings and extra gates, they appeared more like cages for monsters rather than a prison for humans, yet the crooked metal bars easily bent under the force of its strikes. A door clattered harshly against the floor, taking bits of bloodied scales and matted feathers down with it. For all its determination in throwing an enraged tantrum to the point of self-injury, the monster found little success in dislodging the sword that had dug itself into the fleshy floor of its mouth. Dark red blood continued to ooze from the various wounds upon its body with the viscosity of paint, diluted and diffusing through the damp floor of the dungeon.

Forgoing the removal of the metal thorn keeping its jaws propped open, the feathered serpent suddenly lunged blindly toward the closest figure nearby. Regardless of whether its wild charge missed the body or knocked someone down, it continued straight on its path, attempting to dive right into yet another vortex summoning forth a watery abyss that had bubbled up from the ground.

Cyril observed the entire exchange between the monster and Arcana with boredom marring his face, completely ignoring Carnelian’s false bravado and only turning his attention back to his current audience when addressed directly by Dusk. Amber eyes whose golden hues seemed to glow eerily in the dim light curved into crescents, once again smiling pleasantly as if he were a friendly vendor waving over a passerby to inspect his wares.

“Oh, you know,” the blonde said with a shrug, “I heard the Lady of the Arva House has rather unique methods of punishing traitors, so I took pity and intervened before he did something he would regret.”

Despite the grand favor that Cyril acted as if he’d done for the collapsed guard, Guillaume—stirred by the hushed but harsh words of Vanitas—managed to croak out a single word: “Milene.” Whether it be out of fear or the sharp pain radiating from his back with each breath, the guard promptly grew limp, sinking into unconsciousness without another word to elaborate.

To the older members of Arcana and those who paid attention to rumormills, Milene was a familiar word, or rather name, that first became a popular topic of gossip upon the streets three years ago. It was a small town in the countryside, largely devoid of the mana pollution rampant within Vestry. However, its claim to fame wasn’t due to being a good location for recovery from illnesses but rather as the site where the treasonous Raeger Antwer attempted to take the Queen’s life.

If Cyril heard Guillaume speak, he wouldn’t be given the opportunity to make a response, distracted by a sudden influx of memories that hadn’t been on his mind in years. He blinked in confusion, then let out a light chuckle. “Is that a relic of yours? If so, I shall gladly return the favor.”

One hand fell upon the handle of the shortsword hanging by his waist while the other gave the ornate dagger in his hand a flick. One-by-one, three translucent daggers visible only by the faint light that refracted off of them gracefully cut through the air, the first aimed for Dusk’s crossbow with the remaining two seemingly on course toward her shoulder and abdomen respectively. He quickly closed the gap between himself and the group surrounding Guillaume, sword unsheathed and ready to strike down upon whoever got in his way.


OldTurtle OldTurtle nios nios Dovinique Dovinique Cresion Breezes Cresion Breezes Dawnsx Dawnsx ThatWhichShouldBe ThatWhichShouldBe

Spotting the man who slashed through her vines and rushed up to confront her, Valeria took a step back while the monster by her feet deftly rose to block off Samadhi. The dog-like creature opened its mouth and let out a hollow keening sound, one that would feel as if it penetrated directly into his skull. Though he would feel no pain, he’d feel his vision growing blurred and his body becoming sluggish.

“You!” Valeria hissed at Arum, the hand gripping the cane growing sheet white under the intensity of her grip. “What have you done by bringing these traitors here! I’m sure I mentioned this was strictly confidential.”

The blue-haired woman tapped her cane against the stone floor of the arena once again, this time summoning forth a thicker vine that swept towards the members of Arcana behind Samadhi, carrying any too slow to avoid it into the wall behind them. She trained a scathing glare upon the red-head whom she believed to be an ally, stepping away from the collapsed Meredith and tapping her finger upon her cane impatiently.

“What are you standing around for? Go and rectify your mistakes!”

Sufficiently distracted by Samadhi and the effects of Arum’s stigma, Valeria wouldn’t react to Défrayer’s swift approach until they’d managed to successfully grab Death by her shoulder and drag her a meter or two away from her original position. Weakened and completely limp, the blue-haired woman found her heavy (albeit not life threatening) injuries aggravated by the drag against the cold stone floor. A light gasp elicited a twitch of a finned ear by the monster in the room, though not enough to pull it away from its current engagement with Samadhi as it attempted to lunge for the man’s shoulder.

Valeria, on the other hand, whipped around, the tip of the cane in her hand now having morphed into a heavy vine. With a flick of her wrist, it’d strike out at the person carrying her prisoner like a viper. Though it did not strike down with the same force as her previous attacks, a strange liquid seemed to bead upon the tips of its thorns, causing an intense sting at the lightest of grazes.


Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian

Basil shook his head at Rattler’s question and replied in an equally hushed voice, “They confiscated everything we were carrying on our person including the gems of rebirth, but they won’t be able to do anything with them now that Death deactivated them. We weren’t carrying anything else of import.” Suddenly, the young man’s expression turned cross, as if he’d recalled a distasteful memory. “Speaking of getting caught, that scoundrel Roth better brace himself.”

Three days ago, Basil had been returning from his usual round of house visits, from check ups on children with the common cold to those unfortunate enough to be afflicted with mana corrosion. It had been late into the evening. The sun had tucked itself into the horizon for the day roughly an hour’s time prior, and the streets had lessened in foot traffic now that everyone had closed up shop for the day. Right before he’d turned the corner leading into the street that The Whistling Maple called home, he caught a glimpse of a familiar head of blue hair.

Down the main street and onto the more seedy backalleys of the city, Death walked closely with a man that Basil vaguely recognized as Roth. They made for a strange duo, especially when he’d only ever seen them speak with each other once or twice. Were they truly close enough to take a stroll at this time of the night?

A small part of his mind told him to mind his own business. Perhaps Owen had finally decided to send the wildcard off on another mission, and Roth just so happened to be the poor sap that had been selected to accompany her by their strange leader. Nevertheless, he found his feet shuffling forward until he was officially on their tail. Unfortunately, the physician had never been much for stealth or combat, and upon being spotted by the men waiting for the duo’s arrival, Basil quickly proved the exact reason why he was seldom dispatched.

Once bound, gagged, and thrown unceremoniously into a carriage, Basil had even felt Death give him a good kick, no doubt calling him worse than useless and all manners of insults in her mind. That witch.

By the time the medic finished briefly recounting his version of the events, the party of four arrived at the end of the hidden corridor. This time, they stepped out of a door that was cleverly disguised as a walk-in wardrobe in what appeared to be a storage room. Though the lack of dust trailing from the wardrobe to the door of the room informed them that it was a commonly utilized passage, the rest of the room appeared largely untouched, whether it be the musty old paintings or what appeared to be an old dog house with a faded “Adele” written clumsily upon its cracked roof.

Suddenly, the door to the storage room creaked open, followed by a small mewl.

“Hush, you ugly thing,” a soft voice spoke to the meowing creature in her arms, sounding almost doting despite the harsh moniker. “Stay here and-” When she spotted the four emerging from the wardrobe, she paused, and as if a practiced routine, the cat in her arms climbed up her shoulder and deftly jumped off behind the white-haired woman.

Scarlet eyes flicked from one face to the next, gradually settling upon Knightmare. Fragments of red filled their vision, soon replaced by crimson droplets flicking off metal as a knife plunged mercilessly into the side of the woman’s throat. Before the others could react, the woman was gone and out of the room in another blur of red, awaiting any who dared to give chase.
Code by Nano
 
Last edited:
AURELIUS STALLARD || VERMILLION


With the battle with the beast growing only more violent and aggressive, he really does wonder how the whole dungeon hasn't collapsed on itself. His eyes glanced up when he heard a shout. Raising up his free hand and caught the airborne dagger that had been tossed to him. Flicking off the beast's blood before tucking it back onto his person. Offering the other blonde man a nod of thanks as he rushed in to support him in fending off the monster. However, he noticed an oddity in the next attack. Narrowing his eyes as the beast opened its mouth wider rather than trying to chomp at something.

At the blast of water directed at Nemesis, he quickly cursed before backing away. Making sure to hold his weapon up above the water to make sure he didn't electrocute himself or anyone else around him for that matter before deactivating the relic. "What an infuriating creature you are..." He mumbled. Wading through the water before his head snapped in the direction of incoming footsteps and an approaching voice and then to the wimpy guard lying collapsed on the floor. Eyes widened in shock before burning with a bright rage. This guy was more than just a guard. Someone who not only attacked his own but was also another threat aside from the monster itself.

While the water was quickly spilling out to the rest of the dungeon, he was still disoriented and slow from being soaked. Just barely managing to avoid the wild thrashing of the beast's tail as it screeched and wailed as it grew more aggravated. He gripped his weapon and quickly activated his sigma with the goal of defeating this beast and Cyril. A small sigil would appear on the inner part of Auri's right arm and then in the same spot on others who have also been buffed. An additional mark would appear on Auri's arm for every person who received the buff. A signal for how many people he's affecting.

Everyone who's been buffed, including Auri himself, would feel noticeably rejuvenated. And those who noticed the mark may have an idea of where this feeling may be coming from.

With Magpie somewhat keeping the monster distracted with the chaotic flying sword, he hurried over to Nemesis. Assisting him if he needed help after that direct blast of water. "We both shouldn't keep focusing on this monster. Assist the others with handling the new threat. Magpie and myself will keep it occupied." He spoke urgently, watching as the monster was about to lunge towards them once again. He shoved Nemesis towards the other group before readying his weapon and getting ready to engage the enraged beast...only for a Magpie's sword to rain down and lodge itself into the monster's jaw. Stopping the beast mid-attack as it attempted to dislodge the sword.

Auri's eyes stared at the lodged sword before twinkling with an idea! But soon narrowed as the beast seemed like it was trying to flee into some abyss of water. "Hold this for me, Magpie. And stay clear of the water." Casually tossing his spear over at the other and fully expecting him to catch it before taking off after the monster. Auri was moving much faster thanks to the enhancement from his sigma and the reduced weight on his person. Easily able to close the distance between himself and the beast. "Oh, how amusing it is to watch the hunter become the hunted." He wouldn't let this thing escape and keep living. Once close enough, he jumped at the beast. Gripping onto the furs and feathers of the beast and pulled himself up for a moment before having to slide off the side a bit before he was flattened like a pancake against the wall as the monster slammed against it in an attempt to shake him off while continuing to the vortex. It's screeching only getting louder.

"Can't you just die quietly..." Using the fur as a form of security to keep him from flying off, he quickly made his way to the head of the beast. Standing atop its head he held onto one of the horns. He wasn't sure if he could survive in that watery abyss, so he wasn't looking forward to finding out! He quickly reached to grasp the sword, making sure only his boots and gloves were making contact with the beast, before electrifying the item and pressing the blade further into the beast's head.

The blade fully pierced through the floor of the mouth before Auri shifted the sword to try and push the blade further into its mouth. Dragging the blade along the floor of its mouth, tearing the flesh even more as it widened the wound at the top of its mouth. Only through the firm stance he had on the beast's head and the tight grip he had both on the hilt of the sword and one of its horns was he able to keep himself from flying off. Keeping the strong electric current strong with the full intent of paralyzing it, if not killing it.



Interactions: Zariel Zariel (Andrius) || A Murder Of Corviknight A Murder Of Corviknight (Leif)

Mentions: Everyone else in group 1 & Cyril
 
A Family Affair
Arakan︱Samadhi


The creature cries out, and Arakan can feel his brain affected by it. Perhaps a particular frequency? Fascinating. Whatever it was, it set his ears ringing and his vision blurring, disorientated and off-balance. What a marvelous biological ability. He could see why it was used as a guard hound. Pity, then, that it had such an opponent as him. Arakan staggers for a moment as if drunk, his body swaying as his hands come up in a peculiar guard. He twists and and seemingly stumbles, an invitation and bait. Of course the creature strikes. But it does not find a befuddled and off-balance opponent. Its jaws snap, it leaps into the air, pouncing and furious-

And Arakan's hands are there to meet it.

He does not overpower it, force against force. No, Arakan is a more refined fighter than that. He lowers his center of balance, crouching low- his footing rock-solid as he guides the beast's force against it, channeling its power to throw it to the ground, belly up. From here, it was far more vulnerable- and Arakan capitalizes. The beast's legs lash out, claws swiping, and Arakan meets them with his fists and palms. It's a flurry of parry, deflect, and strike between the two as the beast desperately tries to defend its vulnerable belly, while Arakan seeks to strike a blow while it is exposed.

After a couple seconds, a victor is decided- Arakan's fist drives home into the beast's throat, a crunch sound being heard. Arakan's clothes are criss-crossed by slashes, but he laughs triumphantly as he prepares to finish the beast off.

Code by Nano
 

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