Fantasy &nbsp; Four Suits Volume 1.5

Goonfire · May 1, 2019

Leolin Hravart III

"H-hey! Get back here, this isn't over!" Leolin was infuriated by the hasty exit, and bounded after him to catch up at roughly 75-percent the speed, as fast as his cannon leaps could carry him currently. What was happening at the gates made the inexperienced ace freeze in shock. Monstrous insects feasting upon the escapees, devouring some in seconds. This was the final straw.

Whilst gritting his teeth in a rage, the fire swirling around Leo ceased suddenly. It was but the calm before the storm, as within seconds the creatures began to convulse, flames rapidly spreading across their exoskeletons. Their compound eyes bubbled, chitinous husks turned to ash. If it was insectoid, it was likely getting cooked. Having suppressed the hordes long enough for a few lucky survivors to flee, he cranked his head in the direction of the obvious culprit: Three. As much as he wanted to pursue Nasham, much in the way an angry woman would chase down an adulterous husband, there was no way to fight one Royal Flushe member without allowing the others free reign over the rest of the city. With this realization in mind, Leolin seemingly disappeared in a fiery explosion that crumbled another segment of wall.

So where did he go? Simply to Guin, his only ally in this ordeal. "Guin, you and the survivors need to get clear of the city. I- I don't think I can contain these five and their hordes without destroying everything," he confessed, fighting back frustrated tears. "The longer I drag out this battle, the more lives we lose to these bastards." Having acknowledged what needed to be done, he uttered a solemn vow to avenge the dead and help the living rebuild Atria.

. D O V E · May 1, 2019

[class name=Guin] width:250px; height:250px; background:url('https://i.pinimg.com/736x/0c/61/69/0c6169f0357dbed6f43ec70f4336d289.jpg'); border:1px solid #ffcc00; background-size:120%; background-position: 50% 0%; display:block; margin:auto; center; transition:3s; [/class] [class name=Guin state=hover] width:250px; height:250px; background:url('https://66.media.tumblr.com/2c8679839e37ca960839a7d7f8845888/tumblr_pakhsfV1ww1vanbmao1_400.jpg'); border:1px solid #ffcc00; background-size:140%; background-position: 60% 0%; display:block; margin:auto; center; transition:3s; [/class] [class name=bg] background:#660000; border:1px solid #ffcc00 ; [/class] [class name=font] font-size:15px; line-height:20px; [/class] [class name=gname] font-size:30px; color: #ffcc00; font-weight: bold; [/class] [class name=img] width:600px; height:300px; background:url('https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/finalfantasy/images/7/77/Paling-ffxii.png/revision/latest?cb=20170905202901'); background-size:130%; background-position:center; margin:auto; center; [/class]

[div class=bg] [div class=Guin][/div]

[div class=gname] Queen of Hearts [/div]

Location:

Atria, Kingdom of Hearts

Interaction:

Goonfire

Mentions:

Kloudy

Spell(s) Used:

Area Drain

Psychic Projection - Sword

Partial Synchronization - Leolin

Reflect - Huge-ass barrier

Blink

[/div]

[div class=font] It was as if all hell broke loose in Atria itself. Guineverre watched with wide eyes as swarms of what appeared to be gigantic insects flooded into the city. They feasted on the hapless civilians and guards in a gruesome manner. Screams, blood and corpses (or at least what was left of them) filled the place as the monstrosities terrorized both land and air.

Obviously the enemies got the upper-hand in the situation. The Hearts were severely outnumbered and to make the matters worse only two out of the five mysterious characters were on the move. She could only wonder what other tricks the rest hide in their sleeves.

Leolin appeared beside her a few moments later with glistening eyes. The queen put a firm hand on his shoulder, "Lion, we will get through this together. If the city needs to be destroyed to rid the world of these evil then so be it. No matter what happens I'll always be by your side." she showed him a warm smile, an attempt to provide her childhood friend with emotional support. She worried that he may act irrationally if his emotions got the best of him. With that, her expression darkened as she retracted her hand and took a step back, "I can evacuate the survivors but I'll need you to lend me your strength."

With that, Guineverre's eyes glowed a bright blue for a brief moment as she used her magic to connect herself with Leolin. Partial Synchronization. Through this, the female will be able to share the Ace's active buffs: heat resistance and faster regeneration. The next thing she did was to activate her Drain. Guin let out a sharp gasp as she began to feed off of her enemies and surroundings. Mana, dysidia and stamina, she could feel all of them rushing into her system. The first few moments were excruciatingly painful as her body was caught off guard by the enormous amount of mana entering her. Due to the brutal massacre, dysidia ran rampant and it significantly affected the strength of her drain in a positive light.

"...Listen. Our priority right now is to evacuate the citizens. The insects came from the East so I am certain that part of the city is done for. However, we can still save the rest. In front of the central building is a facility with a large bunker underneath. It's equipped with a tunnel which runs to the capital. I will go over there and create a barrier. My barrier will act as a safe zone until everyone has fled into the tunnel. You on the other hand can gather as many survivors as you can and lead them to me." she told the pyromancer as her body stabilized.

Guineverre disappeared from her position on the watchtower and reappeared on the nearby building's rooftop. She chained Blink and jumped from roof to roof until she reached the one belonging to the facility at Atria's central part. She took notice of One, standing on top of the administrative building across, and considered them as possible threat but she could see no other choice. Yes, they could bomb more holes in the wall but the escapees would just end up getting killed by the mysterious characters guarding the gates. Additionally, the center would be much easier to access from different directions and has a more fortified defense

The Queen of Hearts arrived just in time to witness the guards protecting the facility's entrance from an oversize cockroach. It seemed like there were already some survivors inside. Guineverre wasted no time and conjured a longsword using her magic before jumping down from the roof straight to the insect's crown sword-first. The magical blade easily sliced through its head, making way for the queen's smooth landing as the monster dropped dead on the background.

However instead of rising to her feet, the female remained crouched and planted her right palm on the ground. On cue, her hand released a bright magical discharge which traveled to all directions in order to etch a large and circular array on the earth. The entirety of the facility was caught in its vast area as what appeared to be semi-transparent walls surged up from the array's edges and merged with one another up on the sky to create a dome.

[div class=img][/div]

Guineverre finally rose to her feet and faced the guards who were too busy gawking at her and the newly conjured barrier. One of them seemed to be a high-ranking official since he was wearing a different uniform from the rest. "I hope you have opened the gate to the tunnel." she addressed the officer who was too shock to reply with anything but a nod. "Good. Coordinate with the other guards and tell them to guide the remaining survivors into our location. The barrier will only block hostiles from entering." she ordered while gesturing at a large winged-bug uselessly trying to force its way into the shield. The guards scurried to obey her commands while the survivors ran into the bunker's tunnels.

She has confidence in her spell and believe that it would be strong enough to last until everyone has escaped. Its large mana consumption shouldn't be much of a problem as long as she keeps her Drain activated. While more people started to run towards her barrier for safety, Guin turned her attention to the figure above the opposite building. She needed to be prepared in case the said character or any of their comrades do something crazy. Not that this whole ordeal wasn't crazy enough.. [/div]

Goonfire · May 1, 2019

Leolin Hravart III

Leolin dried his eyes on his frayed sleeve as Guin comforted him. She then proposed a solid plan to slip people past the bloodthirsty killers. “You have my permission. Synchronize with me,” he agreed, allowing her to work her magic.

Synchronization was always a strange ability to him. As Guineverre gained the benefits of his passive abilities, it felt as though her signature was also taking on qualities of his own. As much as he worried about that, he had no doubt the savvy queen could hold her own. That was confirmed after she powered up and descended upon a foe with her psychic blade. “Godspeed, Guin,” he bid her prior to initiating his own phase of the plan.

Gliding down from his perch, Leo descended upon the devils like an angel of death, causing the horrors besieging his citizens to spontaneously combust. Like a good shepherd, he ushered the lambs toward the tunnel entrance, assuring them their queen’s shields would hold against the relentless barrage of roaches.

Diphylleia grayi · May 1, 2019

𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔦𝔞𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰
⟡

Hues of midnight blue engulf her world, warps and refract into the cool of gainsboro grey and baby blue as diamond heels dig into the waving fabrics of grass. The streets which had once thronged with life stood empty, the colorful symphony of life having been reduced to the hush of colliding snowflakes; embers stirring from the ruins of quiet homes and empty beds, doomed to fall into oblivion as the wind would carry them far, far away. Gone were the food vendors and the women in their bright clothes selling handmade goods from carts and baskets, gone were the children who played amongst the crowds with their games and laughter, gone were the stores with their windows of fine clothing and delicacies; gone. In their stead laid a wasteland of cracked sidewalks and empty gun shells, of broken promises and dead dreams; swiveling in silver wisps and dispersing in layers of jaundiced tar over the burning horizon.
Here at dawn where the sun had merged with the burnt earth in fulminations of tall structures had the world come to run on the echoes of howling screams and the distant thunder of gunfire blasting bullet holes in the silence.

The chaos chases her gaze and she fights in stumbling steps to escape the pounding beat of artillery reverbing beneath her feet; the echoes playing a falsetto melody in the tune of broken wails of why upon her quivering lips. Suddenly, the ground crunches under her heel, mass surrendering to the weight of wobbling legs and swelling over in a tide of charcoal around the flats of diamond soles. Her heart plummets, the ghosts of tears welling up in cold crystalline behind iridescent eyes as obsidian dirt piles up in the apparition of an arm beneath her foot. The world becomes quiet, colorless, surreal; thoughts fading away in the breeze that arrives to stir the crumbling ashes, tired flickers of light igniting then dying along with the sobs that hinge in her throat.

Everything breaks, seams unwinding in a translucent phantom mimic of sorrow that fails to materialize thus leaving her face a blank canvas. She stoops down, lithe limbs of ivory reaching to caress the withered hand in soft finger strokes.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't keep my promise."

The snow of cinders continue to fall in unspoken words and gestures; her tears among them as they search to rest within the cradle of war. Clenching her fist the ashes run like sand in between her fingers, lips coming to purse and teeth gritting at the last trickles of dust falling out of her reach. Opening up her hand once again her gaze comes to rest on the flawless surface of her palm in a deep frown; hand tensing and relaxing in a series of trembling movements before settling in a fist yet once again as she rises to her feet.
From the pile of charcoal, a flower suddenly burrows its way up, petals unfolding in prism reflections as the whisper of yet another apology is sounded out between thundering explosions.

"I'm sorry."

Sliding back into a sprint stance she hurls her body towards the frontline, feet kissing the land in long graceful strides and leaving behind a trail of shimmering gemstones. Weaving in pirouettes between the projectiles she leaps into the air in a grand jéte and lands on the top of one of the tanks in a sissone; impaling it with her elongated heel at the front of the stronghold of the gun barrel thus successfully incapacitating it before leaping off again in a crater of diamonds. Her gaze seeks its way to the figure dashing through the enemy ranks in a raid of bloodshed only to witness its sudden halt, the rifle in its hands having seized fire. Landing on the ground she immediately plants her hand upon the surface, twisting her body and turning on her heels to shoot off in the direction of the Ace just in time to sight a tank lock on and launch a shot towards his position. The girl flings herself forward in a somersault, heels crashing first into the dirt in a prism tide which bolts across the earth to wall off Quillon and absorb the bullet. The explosion falls flat against the gemstone mound, roaring flames traveling across the crystal surface in licks of crimson as she picks herself up to change courses towards the tank which was now rotating to face her; dress white no more but splattered in soil and her eyes burning iridescent in the last rays of sunshine being cast over the war-ravaged plains.
Dragging her hand along the ground a spear begins to form in the palm of her hand and in a skew pirouette she hurls it towards the barrel of the tank, the spear cleaving it in half before burrowing itself in its hide. Glancing back their eyes meet for a brief second before she dashes off again, this time towards their medic who had wandered off.

Twirling and twisting back and forth in a streak of enemy takedowns she comes to pass her makeshift grave; offering it a silent prayer before leaving it behind.

I hope I managed to ease your soul a little bit.

⟡

Coyote Hart

SentinelSevn · May 1, 2019

Abilities

Location:
- Jann, Island city of Parma

Interactions:
- Twig

Coyote Hart
- Lazarus

SidTheSkid
- Idun

Diphylleia grayi
- Marillys

TPBx
- Jake

vielpotato

Quillon Downs
38 || Ace || Spades
♠

Quillon rushed into combat, hidden from view of the enemy footsoldiers by hiding behind the false soldiers of his own making. As his soldiers collided with the enemy troops, they would finally catch their first glimpse of the Ace as he made his presence known. He appeared as if from nowhere, quickly sliding between the legs of his soldiers and underneath the rifle barrels pointed in their direction. Quillon immediately made a grab for the nearest enemy soldier, locking a hand on his right wrist and redirecting his aim at his own troops. Quillon aligned his arm with the arm of the soldier, forcing the captive to now completely twist himself in the opposite direction, Quillon now having his chest pressed against the back of the soldier's armored body. With his other hand, Quillon placed a palm beneath the soldier's chin, snapping it to a sharp 90 degree angle away from his rifle. Immediately, Quillon triggered his ability, completely removing the soldier's tolerance for pain, and making the forced neck snap feel as if the vertebrae in his neck were shattered and pulled away from the rest of his spine.

The soldiers surrounding them could only watch in fear, as their comrade was completely overwhelmed in the blink of an eye. His screams in pain were silenced just as fast as they had begun, and a dead look washed over his eyes, as if all life had been drained from him. Unbeknownst to the soldiers, Quillon had already taken full control of the soldier's mind, an easy task for an Ace to take over the singular mind of a lowly soldier. The look of shock in their eyes quickly changed to one of pain, as Quillon willed the soldier he was holding hostage to unleash a torrent of bullets into the chests of his own comrades. The bodies of the small squadron of soldiers quickly fell the the ground, the force of the bullets tearing through their armor sending them reeling backwards.

The few soldiers who had managed to maintain their composure quickly raised their rifles in retaliation, raising the weapon up to their cheek to take aim at the man who was forcing their comrade against them. Quillon quickly took note of this, and instantly released his grip on the soldier. During the time Quillon had held him under his control, his physical contact with the soldier fulfilled the requirements to begin stealing memories from his mind. And he only needed one thought.. how to operate the rifle.

As he released his grip on the soldier, he reached forward slightly and forced the rifle out from the soldier's hands, who was more than willing to give it to him under the influence of mind control. Quillon also reached forward to grab a full magazine of ammunition from the soldier's belt, before raising his leg to deliver a kick to the soldier's lower back. As well as delivering enough force to dent the armor and shatter his lower spine, the soldier was sent flying forwards towards the nearest soldier with his rifle raised. The opposing soldier was already sending bullet after bullet in Quillon's direction, which were all caught in the chest of the body now flying towards him. Upon collision, both figures were sent flying backwards, hardly slowing in the direction until they collided with the nearby wall of a building, on the very edge of the courtyard. The wall beneath them crumbled but did not give way, leaving a small crater in its plaster, and both soldiers slumping to the ground as they fell into their eternal slumber.

But Quillon did not watch this all occur. No, during this time he had the rifle raised to his face, in exact mimicry of the soldier's training that he had just learned how to mimic from the soldier's memory. He pressed the button along the rifle's outer edge to release the empty magazine, and as it fell to the floor, he brought the replacement up and slammed it back into the machine. Within the blink of an eye, Quillon was firing rounds down the rifle's barrel towards the soldiers, his enhanced eyesight giving him the precision to land the fatal blows needed to bring the soldiers to the ground. One soldier to the chest, another to the knee, soldier after soldier fell after one or two rounds before Quillon heard an audible click... empty.

Finally taking a moment to glance at the carnage around him, he counted between 25-30 soldiers at his feet. Only from the brief moments that he had joined the fray. While almost proud of his accomplishments, his pride fell to disdain, as he realized that what he had accomplished was only a fraction of the enemy footsoldiers within the courtyard. He was nowhere near exhausted, but being instantly thrown into combat when he expected to be lurking with the team instead gives him little time to plan ahead. And at this point, their presence would have been more than known, since he was not able to keep track of any outgoing information.

During his brief grace period, Quillon glanced around the courtyard to try and a get a glimpse of how the other royals were holding up. Being that they were still under the influence of his enhancements since the beginning, it was child's play to pinpoint their location. As expected he saw Twig darting around, doing his best to tend to the wounded with each raise of his staff. Quillon noted the mages rising up around Twig, a reinvigorated life force giving them a renewed sense of urgency to fight. He took a glance backwards towards Idun, who he noticed looked lost on the battlefield. She was standing there, stunned, and in an even worse mental state than he had expected Twig to be under. Quillon let out a short sigh beneath his breath, hoping she did not become a casualty of this battle, and of his own fault considering he had been swayed from his original decision to leave her.

But it was Lazarus, the Jack of Clubs, who Quillon was most surprised to see. The Jack was in utter focus, and a quick glimpse into his thoughts showed that he had a countless amount of his blood-borne crows roaming the skies, torpedoes as they rained down from above and into the figures of the soldiers up on the windows and rooftops out of their reach. But it was expected, of the other three, he had specifically chosen Lazarus for his offensive capabilities, more so than the others.

Quillon refocused himself towards the task at hand, no longer distracting himself by keeping his attention towards the others of his team. He knew they would need to take care of themselves, and did not need him holding them by the hand to make sure they were able to maintain their own lives, They knew this, coming into the battle, after all. Regaining his composure and facing towards the masses of bodies slumped in front of him, he spotted the silhouette of a large, rolling mass approaching from the shadows of the alley. His enhanced vision allowed him to make out that it's body was made entirely from metal, like an armored carriage...

His eyes widened as he came to the realization, that that is exactly what it was. An armored carriage, what they would call, a tank. He heard the tank fire before he saw it, and immediately rose his hands in front of him in panicked defense. Instinctively, shut down his ability to fabricate the hallucinations and like glass, his faux soldiers shattered into the wind to the mass confusion of the enemy. All that would remain on the field were the remnants of the Jann soldiers, and of course the four royals who had turned the tide of battle away from being an imminent loss.

Quillon, using his telekinesis now that he was no longer maintaining his other magic, was able to redirect the large round the tank had fired ever so slightly. He felt the disrupted wind brush by his hair, and felt the waves of dust pushed towards him as the attempt made on his life hit the ground around twenty meters behind him. Quillon fell to his knees, not from the shockwave of the blast, but from the sharp pain now reverberating across the back of his head, He was succumbing to the abuse of his powers, having switched so forcefully from the use of one power to the next. He tilted his head upwards, wincing from the pain in his head that was slowly fading into nothing, to face the tank that was staring him down. From this, he deduced there was a timer, a cooldown of sorts, unlike the rifle that he had just held in his hands just moments before.

But his head snapped in Lazarus's direction, as he felt the minor thoughts of being hurt coming from within his thoughts. He saw Lazarus stumble, and the patch of dirt behind him get kicked up as if hit by an impact. "Another sniper.."" he thought, and instantly looked towards the windows of buildings for even a glimpse of where it had come from. Using the direction from which Lazarus had fallen as a guide, he traced the outline until he saw a faint trace of a rifle barrel retreating into the cover of the shadows.

"Twig, to Lazarus, now!" He thought to both Jacks, his voice bellowing into their thoughts in case the Jack of Hearts was unaware of what had just transpired. With Quillon's adjustment of their pain tolerance still in use, Lazarus would still be more than capable of maintaining his consciousness, but it was the blood loss that Quillon was more worried about.

Yet as he was doing so, his eyes never left the barrel of the tank. Now that he was more than prepared for the full strength of the machine, he was steeling himself for the next strike. And strike it did. As it sent another tank round in his direction, Quillon was much quicker to react. He stopped the shot in midair, but only for a moment. The next, he sent it flying up towards the building, straight through the window where he had seen Lazarus' assailant poke through. That entire section of the building erupted into dust and soot, as shards of stone came raining down like an avalanche towards the enemy troops holding a position on the streets below.

He killed two birds with one stone, hopefully. But he had no chance to dwell on whether or not they survived or not, as he still had the tank focused on solely him. With no other distractions, Quillon rose a palm upwards towards the tank, until it began to tilt onto its side. Now at a 45 degree angle, balancing solely on one side of its treads, it fired again. But Quillon had learned its mechanics, and was more than prepared. He rose his other hand, palm flat and facing the tank. And as the sound of the explosion filled the air, so did the tank. Quillon had stopped the tank round before it even left the barrel, creating a wall of telekinetic energy within the barrel. It erupted from within, the explosion launching the swiveling head of the tank off of its body, and into the walls of the alley that it had hid itself in. The body maintained its position, on its side, and still under the influence of Quillon's telekinesis.

The Ace pulled it from its hole within the alley, revealing the tank in its full colors, and in all of its now destroyed contents. And like a broom, he sent it sweeping towards the other end of the courtyard. It picked up bodies of the deceased, and bodies of the living. Unknowingly, also sending it into the direction of Marillys Argossia, who Quillon had simply confused as another soldier who had the gall to outright try and challenge him.

After sending the tank flying in the other direction, he saw a shadow loom over and engulf him. Turning to whatever cast the shadow, he was met with a wall of pure crystal, standing at least eight meters in height, and wide enough to cover all entities from his rear. The wall met with a heavy boom, the magnitude of the force he recognized to be that from one of the tanks. There must have been another one approaching him from behind, one that he had not noticed due to his Precognition already being extremely overwhelmed by the amount of danger the entire team was in.

He traced the crystalline pattern across the ground to the hands of Idun, who had only briefly met eyes with him before turning away to return to her fight. "The Jack of Clubs has been injured. Bring the healer to him, as soon as you can." He advised her, watching as she sent another pillar or crystal to destroy the unseen tank behind the wall. With the explosion he heard opposite the wall, he assumed she was successful in her attempt.

Idun had proved to be much more of a fighter than he had assumed, and much more than he had originally given her credit for..

SidTheSkid · May 2, 2019

Warning: Jack of Club's morality is based around the events that affect him, Lazare's personality and sympathy will mainly be dictated by
tragedies, relationships, conflict, and so forth. Depending on the circumstances, he may preserve his kindhearted ways and often times show compassion.
(Even to those that might not deserve it.) However, if he's pushed over the edge, Jack of Club's morality will significantly change and may illustrate itself through malice.

Lazarus M. Viticus (Wounded - 3 Broken Ribs.)
(Location: City of Jann, Parma Island. )
(Mood: Irritated.)
(Moral Alignment: ??? )
(Interactions: Zephyr, Quillon, Idun, Jake, Marillys)
(Mentions: )

Disfigured squeals engulfed the already dreadful atmosphere in an upsurge of sheer terror, gleaming muzzle flashes brightened the surrounding battleground as a multitude of Argossians wildly discharged their firearms into the darkened sky around them in a determined hope of landing a vital hit on at least one of the grisly miscreations. Lifeless bodies from the opposing forces continued to stack onto the vast list of casualties, the aerial onslaught of birds wasted no efforts in picking them off one by one, and before long their meager amount of long-ranged units had been almost completely reduced to nothing but fresh remains. Although he was successful in enacting his own form of brutal vengeance, Lazarus became increasingly frustrated as his withdrawn empathy started to affect him. He didn't understand why he felt awful about dispatching these murderers, after all, they had shown little mercy for the innocents that inhabited Parma. Regardless of the lingering anger that he was feeling at the time, the Jack of Clubs had reluctantly recalled his Crows back to him once they had finished completing their objective, it was a considerably sympathetic thing to do once he observed some of the enemies grieving over the loss of their former friends in addition to the grievously wounded soldiers being pulled back. "Opposed to them, I'm not a monster." Easy as it would've been to take full advantage of them in their time of gloom, he'd find very little heroism in slaying a helpless foe.

Perhaps his own benevolence was a mistake as right after he'd ended his assault on the enemy forces, a stinging sensation had overcome him after being knocked back by a tremendous force that had effortlessly thrown him off his feet and onto the ground beneath him. "Argh! What the hell?!" His painful words were filled with confusion as he writhed next to the large chunk of debris across from him, Lazare only figured out what had happened once both of his hands were cloaking a decent size hole that tunneled through the front of his rigid armor and straight out the back of it it. He wholeheartedly believed that all of those sharpshooters he'd sent his birds after were taken care of but apparently there'd been a single gunman hiding just out from his sight! Surprisingly, instead of being concerned at his bodily trauma he was preferably more troubled at the thought of one of their advanced weapons being able to puncture through his magical armor, his crystalized blood alone was known to be able to lacerate through even the toughest of metals that this world of theirs had to offer, yet, a single bullet was able to rip through him? He could only presume that this wasn't a normal round that had injured him. His defense had stopped most of the momentum, somehow it resulted in far less damage than he had initially expected, even if it still managed to break a few ribs in the process and leave a nasty hole in him. Painful as the whole ordeal might've been for him at the time, it still wasn't enough to put him down for good! Because of his useful crystallization technique his gaping wound was now beginning to seal itself once the blood coagulated inside of him, overall preventing any blood loss but unfortunately, this factor didn't prove useful in snapping his bones back into place. In due time Lazarus was able to prop himself up, still clearly injured from the several injuries that he had sustained but still fully capable of participating in the fight. "Wasn't expecting that."

Amusingly mocking the incident as it were a mere mishap, his comical remark was just an awful attempt to bolster his group's morale, however, he doubted that it did much as he still gave the impression of being in seriously bad shape. Spitting out a mix of saliva and blood, Lazarus steadily leaned himself up against the rubble he was hiding behind before waving to his fellow companions, signaling for them to reposition so they wouldn't undergo the same experience that he had. "Don't worry about me, just get yourselves away from their view!" Letting out a pitiful groan, the crippled Jack sought to find more appropriate cover that would get him out of the sniper's sight, his focus hastily gleamed over a few potential spots until he eventually came across another adequately sized piece of rubble, specifically, a chunk of shingle layered roofing that would effectively shield him from any others rounds that were to be sent his way. As soon as he was able to limp his way over to the mediocre shelter, he was finally given a good opportunity to help protect Idun and Twig while he gradually recovers, at least until he felt confident enough in tracking down and putting a swift end to the person who had previously shot him! "Please, just focus on helping the citizens! Unlike them, I can stop myself from bleeding out!" Touching as it was for Quillon to worry about him, heeding to Twig's pleas for assistance was his main priority, worrying about any 'minor' injuries was a marginal issue in comparison. After letting out a soft whistle, Lazare's constructs had converged to his location, huddling around him in a small circle as they awaited a new objective. "Conjoin." Obediently complying to their master's order, Lazare's flock of creatures vigorously forced their small bodies against each other, making them splice themselves together into a singular blobby mass that writhed around as it started to manifest into an another bizarre familiar. Only four crows had remained from the bunch, their current duties consisted of being used for back-up, in case any of his strategies were to go awry by some chance.

(It's breed is a Bloodhound, get it?)

Mangled howls spewed out from the newly deformed summon, a series of sharpened thorns had promptly stuck out from the creature's viscous skin, between its beady eyes and the rest of its unorthodox features, it almost gave the beast a somewhat hellish appearance! Lazare's 'puppet' had practically resembled a Canine upon finalizing its transformation. Unhinging its jaw as it sprawled itself out, its several rows of irregular teeth became a prominent feature while it lulled out its forked tongue out from its mouth before following the action with a deep yawn. After giving itself a brief moment to get adjusted to its new physique, the red monstrosity quickly scurried its way off to attend to both Idun and Twig. It might've not given them an aerial advantage but it was able to provide an extraordinary amount of force when it came to the ground, it didn't take long for the creature to establish this fact either! One of the Argossians had set-up himself up to ambush the two while they were distracted with healing bystanders, the muzzle of his rifle was pointed at the two once he had popped himself out from the concealment of a brick wall. Just as the soldier was about to engage them, a lusty snarl had sung from the beast's throat as it scampered its way to the enemy and firmly cling itself to the person's back, further securing itself by clamping its fanged teeth over and into the person's fleshy throat. "Shit, shit! Get it off me!" Completely distraught, they didn't hesitate to relinquish their weapon as they tried seeking help from Idun and Twig. Outstretching his arm to them, the Argossian let out a final plea for forgiveness, nonetheless, once the person had carried themselves up to the duo their entire body had become pierced with thorny protrusions that had extended outward from the creature's body. Hardened keratin spikes impaled out from the man's body before they were promptly retracted back, a heavy crash of armor clung loudly as they connected with the ground, as soon as the 'threat' was gone the beast's serrated teeth unfastened from their neck and eventually the callous creature had strolled its way back to the group.

"We might have a big issue here!"

Among the tremendous sea of soldiers contained a distinctive figure, Lazarus was surprised he wasn't able to perceive the uniformed man until they had charged out from the Argossian front lines. Their uniformed presence gave him a slight idea of their importance but their intentions still remained a mystery, albeit it probably wasn't very neighborly as their hooked stare 'oozed' with a sense of hostility. "Whoever they are, it'd be best if we keep them distanced between us!" Having this new threat overtake their position would be catastrophic, Lazarus didn't know what Marillys was capable of but he didn't want to find out. At a moment's notice, the Jack of Clubs had diverted the remainder of Crows towards the menacing figure in a last-ditch effort of creating a small diversion that would aid in buying him and his group a little more time, just until they were able to evacuate the injured to a safe location. "Quillon, i'm going to confirm that sniper's death. Having them fire at us while we're dealing with an unknown threat would leave us at a major disadvantage." The looming threat of someone firing shots at them from a place that provided a spectacular vantage point of the courtyard was enough for him to ignore the severity of his fractured ribs. Thankfully, figuring out where the sniper had been hiding wasn't all that difficult after Quillon had used his telekinesis to lob a good-sized tank shell their way! From the Jack's perspective, he was just able to make out remnants of a church amidst all the billows of smoke that were pushing through the atmosphere after the destructive impact. "Let's see how well you do when i'm not a mile away from you." Slowly but surely, Lazare was able to regain his posture and in seconds he had transfigured himself into a murky 'cloud' of blood, his misty state had seemingly disappeared from the courtyard as it drifted itself through the wind, carrying him to a moderately demolished chapel that resided deep inside of the town's square.

Upon reaching his desired location, Lazare's obscure transformation had faded away and his figure had become whole once again. "Let's not make this harder than it has to be." He tried his best not to reveal the extent of his agony but the twinges of his pain expression after landing onto the soles of his boots were all too obvious. Gritting his teeth, he was able to momentarily push away the pain from his thoughts as he meandered around the exterior of the church, hoping that he would come across the petrified ashes of the Argossian soldier that had shot at him. "Not sure why you're willing to risk your life for a bunch of no-good murderers, I suggest you surrender yourself if you're still alive." Vulnerable as he looked, he wasn't prepared to let a few broken bones stop him from recapturing Parma.

SentinelSevn ,

Diphylleia grayi ,

TPBx ,

Coyote Hart

.

Balfnaught1 · May 2, 2019

Clones… excellent. Once again Travis changed forms, a whirling beast of living storm appearing behind him for an instant before flickering away. While his previous changes brought no visible alterations, this one was different. His body seemed to grow less… coherent and grew blurrier, as his body changed from solid and liquid to purely gaseous. He tried not to think too hard about the mechanics of this change in particular, but the results were unquestionable. He exploded through the ranks of the shadow clones, their attacks passing through him like… air.
He came out behind the shadow clone with the bow and arrow. He was already wary of facing all of the clones simultaneously, and having one standing far away with a ranged attack would likely be what turned the tide against him, if it wasn’t already. Once more he assumed the rampaging power of the minotaur, his body returning to its natural state before he struck at the bow-wielding shadow soldier with a massive overhand strike.

TPBx

TPBx · May 4, 2019

Ethan Kaloronos

Ethan watched with the incredibly bizarre vision he gained from the use of Shadow Soldiers as he watched from 5 different perspectives as Travis's Wind Beast form passed through his avatars of darkness. Eventually landing on top of the Bow Clone and then switching forms to the Minotaur form and smashing the shadow clone into a pile of billowy dark dust. Ethan then commanded then sent the Dual Sword Clone and Chain Mace Clone to attack Travis, the Dual Sword Clone leaped up into the air and landed on the Travis's back while the Chain Mace clone whipped his weapon around, lashing it out upon a hopefully distracted King.

Balfnaught1

Marillys Argossia

A couple more mages attempted to stand in his way between the group of Royals and himself, one of them raised one hand while twirling the other to summon a small cyclone while another summoned pillars of flame to try and surround him. Marillys holstered his guns and unsheathed his sword, swinging once but with such power that the wind created by it shattered their magic meant nothing behind his raw power. They were blown back by the gust and knocked off their feet, but before they could even hit the ground they were dead as Marillys came down into a spinning strike lopping off both their heads. He saw a stream of glowing light whisk around the battlefield as he watched a shining girl streak past him, destroying one of the siege tanks nearby. In addition to this another tank was destroyed by another mage with their powerful Telekinesis.

He decided that he would take care of the girl first, since she happened to be closer. Another shell landed in the opposite end of the courtyard and exploded in the background, as with his blade drawn, Marillys charged toward the Diamond girl. But then to his right he saw one of the tanks being hurdled towards him, as he ran towards her, Marillys slid underneath the metal behemoth, hearing the desperate cries of help from the tank crew inside. He got up and trudged forward, finally breaching the gap towards the Diamond, raised his sword up, and slashed downward with all the strength he could muster.

Diphylleia grayi

ChazGhost · May 6, 2019

10 of Clubs, Maxwell

Maxwell was happy he was able to get his sword to slice into the Dryad sword but then became unhappy as it now seemed his sword was stuck. But with problem come solutions, and Maxwell had one that would help greatly. But before as he was about to go through with the plan the Dryad jabbed Maxwell in the face, which in turn made Maxwell let go of his sword momentarily and stumble back. Once he gained back his composer and spitting out some blood, Maxwell went back to offensive.

The main way Maxwell went on the offensive was grabbing ahold of the hilt of his sword in the Dryad arm and growing it to the maximum size he could, a size he could now longer ruse with his current size but grew much large and heavy which in turn to Maxwell theory damage the Dryad further. After doing that Maxwell released his own right jab into the head of Dryad, followed by left. Maxwell now dawned a more gentlemanly boxing stance.

Goonfire · May 10, 2019

Vivianne Frisk

As if a giant dryad and a size-shifting orc smashing up the lands weren’t bad enough, the brew witch could hear the distant commotion coming closer. That was definitely the sound of people getting out of the way of a fast-mover, one with whom she was familiar...

Vivianne was among the last people standing between Sydren and the forge. She didn’t dodge; no, that would’ve been inefficient. Instead, she leapt up and removed her hat, simultaneously vaulting over the dwarf and handing over the cleverly-designed decanter of beer that would, without a doubt, be emptied within the next minute. “Everything’s ready, Lord Sydren! See you there!” she merrily announced before tethering her way to the rooftops and disappearing on her way to combat the colossus threatening the capital’s outskirts.

It was a bit of a haul to catch up with the dryad, but Vivianne had spent minimal energy by using her momentum and some clever tether spells to get from point A to point B. A person of her size was but an ant compared to the two titans duking it out before her, but she had an idea that may help... assuming this thing had eyes.

It was much less dangerous to climb Maxwell, so Vivianne did just that, tethering onto the enlarged stitches which made surprisingly good footholds. She ascended until she was on his shoulder, then shouted a brief greeting in his ear: “Mornin’! Lord Sydren’s on his way, so let’s get this party started right... and get pumped for round two, WOOHOO!” The giant orc likely would have seen barrages of tiny pink shapes flying from his right shoulder and shaving away the foliage and bark covering the dryad’s face. Vivianne clung to the fabric with one hand and whipped the other back and forth, the spinning, glowing swords launching from her fingertips.

YungJazz

ChazGhost

vielpotato · May 13, 2019

The bombshell was something Jake’s gut told him to run before it exploded. The danger sense came was able to save Jake’s life, however Jake sustained enough injuries to be knocked out from the launching of the blast. He was asleep, until his body awakened him for the incoming danger.

The scent of blood is something one cannot distinguish in the midst of a battlefield easily. It would take someone who had the best nose possible to even attempt to smell a difference in the bloods around oneself. Yet, this is exactly what the body did. It was able to notice the incoming scent of blood however was unable to pinpoint it. Soon enough after Jake got up and dusted his soar body, while noting the small cuts bleeding, before the strange person appeared. Jake’s weapon was a sword already, as Jake prepared it as such in a scabbard before enemies appeared, and Jake bowed before his enemy. “Surrender? Why would I do such a thing while I currently hold the upper hand, person of blood. You see, I’m down with fighting one on one. But you don’t seem fit to fight on par, as such I recommend some other options. The first, would obviously be to duel. Secondly, I recommend you telling your superior that I died or something and I leave you alone. Or lastly.. You take me in and let me escape in trade for some precious secrets..” Jake left it at that, as he twirled the sword in a circular motion to warm up in case of the first option.

SidTheSkid

Ariel · May 13, 2019

⊱S A G A⊰

Diamond Territory - The Market

There are those that believe in things like ghosts, demons, gods and goddesses, superstition, as if to say spilling the salt on the table or treading beneath a ladder was enough to warrant misfortune. Some prayed to the clouds for riches or to those beneath the ground whose bones were nothing more than something maggots gnawed on when the flesh was gone when they were feeling alone. Some were caught in conspiracies, tying strings between coincidences too far fetched for those with a level head on their shoulders. Some believed that when a person did evil, wicked things in one life or the next, that a punishment befitting of their actions would be dealt to them in equal value. Some simply chalked up events in life to bad luck or the flip of a coin.

Saga might have thrown it all out in favor of things like reality and consequence, but the turn of events fit to unfold in the very near future, well, she was sure to curse whatever malevolent god behind the cotton clouds for his rather distasteful sense of humor.

And just as she'd thought it too:

Nothing that bad has happened so far.

"Hey, you!"

That voice she recognized, oh yes. A thin boy with tawny hair and a toothy smile. The baker's son. Someone who stuck his nose in others business far too much. And just the kind of person she wanted to avoid; someone from her hometown. She pretended at first not to notice, giving no other sign that the slight tense of her shoulders as she continued walking.

"Hilmaaaaaaaa!"

She wanted to groan, to turn around and punch the man square in the gut but instead slowly turned to greet him with a polite smile. He hadn't aged well. His hair was turning gray and his beard was a salt and pepper color. He still had that laughable smile. His complexion was full of pocks and valleys, a sign of age. Something that she didn't bare which made this coincidental meeting quite the more awkward.

"Are you talking to me? I think you have me mistaken for someone else!" She assured the man in a honey-sweet voice, trying to ignore the way he scrutinized her face very openly.

"No way! I'd recognize that lovely face anywhere. I had a crush on you, you know? You were a few years older than me but I would have wed you anyway!" Gross. "And then you married that mercenary fool. What was his name... Groffery? George?" Geffory. "Anyway, broke my heart, it did. And then the baby...."

"Nope! Doesn't ring a bell. My name is actually Saga, so-"

He cut her off, without even acknowledging her protest and her plastered smile start to crack around the edges.
"Wait a minute! You look great! And it's been such a long time. I have a wife and kids now. And you look... Like you haven't aged at all, actually. Do you have a secret? Are you even human? You have to be about fifty now!"

"Listen here, old man. It's very rude to assume a lady's age!" She feigned offense and averted her gaze in a huff. "Especially something so far off!"

"You... are definitely, Hilma."

His voice started to grow serious and his smile fell. She grit her teeth and forced another smile, attempting a solution quickly. She did NOT want to deal with this man right now, if ever. It was a waste of time and energy. So she did what she does best. Lie.

"My name is Saga. You have me mistaken, certainly. No average human could avoid time." She reached out for the first person she could grab in the crowd and pulled him close, throwing her arm around him like they were old pals. With her other arm, she sent a firm jab into his rib cage and grinned at him with a plea in her eyes. She kept a firm grasp on him. to deter an escape.

"Help me settle a disagreement, friend. There's no way I could be this person this man is talking about."

vielpotato

SidTheSkid · May 14, 2019

Warning: Jack of Club's morality is based around the events that affect him, Lazare's personality and sympathy will mainly be dictated by
tragedies, relationships, conflict, and so forth. Depending on the circumstances, he may preserve his kindhearted ways and often times show compassion.
(Even to those that might not deserve it.) However, if he's pushed over the edge, Jack of Club's morality will significantly change and may illustrate itself through malice.

Lazarus M. Viticus (Wounded - 3 Broken Ribs.)
(Location: City of Jann, Parma Island. )
(Mood: Tense. )
(Moral Alignment: ??? )
(Interactions: Jake & Marillys)
(Mentions: )

(Lazarus - Jake.)

vielpotato
Charred remnants of the ruined chapel speckled the now tarnished surroundings, dark sickly fumes continued to rise high above the church's unsteady foundation while Lazarus trudged through the pieces of broken-up debris that laid beneath his boots. Rounding his way around the premises, he was almost beginning to second-guess whether or not he should just move his way back to Quill and the others or remain vigilant for the marked sniper he had yet to come across, that was until a caught a glimpse of a figure who he could only suppose was that of the sniper! He cautiously approached what he thought could be another fight on his hands, yet Lazarus was soon surprised to see that this person had only very minimal injuries that consisted only of a few splits in their skin. Not only was their lack of wounds an astounding thing to see but so was their amusing reaction to them seeing the Jack approach them. "Courtesy from an Argossian? This is new, i'd give you the same 'respect' if it weren't for the chance of you slicing my throat as I lower my head." Words like bitter 'poison' had laced his tone with malice, Jake's preposterous form of kindness was almost like a disrespectful gesture to all the innocent lives that served as victims for his faction's violent campaign.

Nonetheless, it was decided that he'd humor this brief time of 'peace' between his enemy by not outright charging at them even if he saw their introduction as somewhat misleading, while difficult as it was not to be swayed by the surge of emotions that wafted through his heart, Lazarus was able to pull himself back from his impulsive thoughts so he could properly assess the situation. "Call it a hunch but there's a suspicion in my mind that leads me to believe that you're not a typical soldier, without a uniform and donning a black mask? Let me guess, you're a Joker?" He wasn't all that sure about this adversary's allegiance but it definitely didn't fall under any of the suits, the sharp tings of their bullet lodged deep inside of his chest was a constant yet painful reminder of this. Time had felt like it was coming to a standstill as he watched his opponent, Lazarus was mentally preparing himself for the worst to happen but was mystified to hear this Joker sparking up a conversation with him. Their jeering response flourished with confidence, this person must've been sincerely convinced that he was holding the 'upper hand', but this petty handicap only leveled the odds of their battle. "As 'defeated' as I may look, these wounds are but mere bruises compared to those leaking cuts you have!" Lazarus couldn't help but point out the minimal wounds that this enemy had sustained, they might've not been all that serious but nor were they something to be passed up as the Jack's proficient usage of blood magic would provide a slight advantage.

Despite having a strategy to use against Jake, fighting a yielding opponent wasn't something he had planned on doing, plus the stranger's weird offers had immediately convinced him that this person hadn't any intentions of dueling it out to the death. "Avoiding the first option would be amiable, however, I cannot simply allow you to leave this battlefield." Jake's first proposal was promptly declined as was his second, deliberately lying about something so significant wasn't a risk he was willing to take, a traitorous act such as this was unacceptable! There was a great risk in his third suggestion, taking him into Club's territory would be a remarkably dangerous decision, however, letting him run off would just allow him to engage his friends later on and not to mention they had valuable information that could prove useful in this war. "Capturing you would be more beneficial even if you're planning something, do not think that my hospitality can be mistaken for gullibility! I will concede to your last offer but this doesn't mean i'll let you amble around freely, until your inevitable release you're but a prisoner in my possession." Curling his own nails into the palm of his hand, a steady flow of blood trickled from the Jack's hand, coagulating into a strange object that he now held firmly in his grasp. "A Minor inconvenience, I apologize but understand that risking myself is one thing but my friends? I cannot allow you to follow without restraint. Wearing this around your neck will not inhibit you but it'll prevent you from doing anything stupid, be grateful that I stumbled across you instead of my allies." Resembling what looked to be a maroon-hued collar in his clutches, Lazarus took a meager step back before leisurely tossing it in Jake's direction. Easy as it would've been to probably kill this person after they were to put it on, it would've been completely out of his own character to do such a horrendous thing to a surrendering enemy.

~Meanwhile~
(Blood Constructs V. Marillys)

TPBx ,

SentinelSevn ,

Coyote Hart ,

Diphylleia grayi
Chaos persisted in the courtyard as Marillys entered the fray, there'd been an indiscriminate amount of mages that had already been overwhelmed by the Captain's masterful blade work as they tried to stop the Argossian. No matter how much pressure had been put on this dangerous enemy there was almost nothing that could halt his advance, incredible magical feats that would stop soldiers dead in their track proved to be useless against him, his tremendous power had already put the Canine abomination on high alert by the time he'd covered a great distance. A low-pitched growl rumbled the dog's throat as it hunched itself down into a hunting posture, the edges of its mouth were grotesquely ripped as its jaw unlatched, revealing rows upon rows of horrific-looking fangs that could easily shred through muscle.

Lazare's crows had already pinpointed Marillys as they circled overhead and were still remaining patient as they waited for their opportunity to strike their target. Attacking such a fast opponent already had proven to be useless, their prior plummets towards the man were continuously interrupted by his baffling speed, resulting in the small flock of birds ascending back into the sky while waiting for an opening. As for the four-legged construct, its pinched nose had caught a strong 'wiff' of the Argossian's killing intent as they approached. It was at this time the creature had dashed forward, hastening its movement every stride it took as the foe's presence continued to linger closer and closer to Idun. Catching up to the Diamond woman before Marillys was surprisingly difficult, their vast speed far exceeded that of the construct, its only way to counteract their momentum was by lunging itself towards the person in a desperate attempt to protect Idun. Knowing that it was going to die protecting its ally, the canine stretched out its jaws as it threw itself into the Argossian's sword, in hopes that its fangs would at least mark him before being split in half.

Similar to their fellow construct, Lazare's flock of birds had decided to engage the target once they'd found their opportunity and before long the remainder of crows were zipping downward to attack Marillys. There was no certainty that this would harm their prey but defending Quill, Idun, as well as Twig was their sole objective, injuring this enemy would only be a bonus.

.

Coyote Hart · May 15, 2019

Twig ran back and forth through the battlefield, a shield of wind conjured in front of him. He was trying his best to save every one of the soldiers there, but he was only one person, and the city of Parma was filled with thousands of people. And eventually, the effects of the battle started taking a toll on Twig. The acrid smoke from the gunfire burned in Twig's lungs and stung his eyes. The screams of the fallen reverberated in Twig's ears. The ground was slippery with blood, and if not for Twig's doctor training, he knew he would've barfed.

And to top it all off, the strain of healing so many people was slowly getting to Twig. He tried to fend the feeling off, but Twig knew that he was draining his stamina at a quicker rate than normal.

So Twig stopped in the middle of the battlefield to lean on his knees and catch his breath. He enacted four walls of wind around him, protecting him from bullets by making them bounce off harmlessly. His fingers fumbled to the hip flask, which he took a chug out of. The tart, flavorful apple cider refreshed Twig and made him feel like he could keep on healing. And the tangy apple and cinnamon almost made him forget that he was in the middle of a battle-- which could have been both a good and bad thing.

As Twig took another few seconds to take a few more breaths and put his hip flask back into his bag, he reflected on how the battle was going. The mages that Twig had healed were getting up, revitalized and ready to fight. Inversely, the birds that Lazare had conjured were wreaking havoc on the battlefield. Quillon was using one of those Argossian rifles to shred through soldiers.

But Twig was snapped out of the reflective state as Quillon's voice resounded in his mind, telling him that Lazare had been shot.

"I'm on it!" Twig's voice was drowned out in the battle. He had spoken at the same time that Lazare objected to being treated. Nonetheless, Twig started making his way towards Lazarus, healing those around him on his way.

"Shit! Shit! Get off of me!" an unfamiliar voice, too close for comfort, said behind him. Twig turned around to the horrifying sight of a blood-red, dog-like creature spearing an Argossian soldier with black spike-like protrusions. The soldier fell to the ground looking desperately towards Twig, while Twig simply stood, frozen and unable to help.

Twig decided not to comment on the brutality of Lazarus's creation and instead chose to chase after him. As he ran, he said desperately, "Lazare! Wait up! Don't make this harder than it has to be!"

But he was too late. Twig was nowhere near Lazarus when the Jack of Clubs when he dissipated into a cloud of red mist. When he realized chasing after Lazare wasn't viable, Twig stopped and leaned on his knees, catching his breath and gasping through breaths of air, "Darn it."

It was really annoying, to be honest. Lazarus had left to fight someone whilst having what seemed to be several broken ribs. It also meant that they didn't have as many of the blood-red crows as they used to since Lazarus wasn't creating any new ones. In the end, it meant that Twig felt like he needed to chip in with some fighting as well as healing. He didn't manage to take the position of Jack by a farce; Twig definitely was combat-worthy in some way.

Unlike Quillon and Lazarus, when Twig fought, he didn't aim to kill. Instead, he used well-placed cuts from his wind magic to disarm the Argossian soldiers. In particular, Twig's target was the soldier's guns. One swipe was enough to send a soldier into confusion as their gun seemingly fell apart, leaving them without a proper weapon and forced to retreat. Sometimes though, Twig wasn't accurate enough. Even though Twig could control his wind magic at the basic level with a good amount of accuracy, there were sometimes spikes of instability, and Twig would end up slashing someone's abdomen open or cut their arms open. When that happened, Twig simply applied a touch of healing-- not as much as he did with the mages, but enough to make sure they didn't lose too much blood before they would be able to arrive at a medic tent.

Twig didn't shy away from his healing duties as a result of his fighting though. His first priority was making sure the citizens were safe. And that meant that Twig was mostly going around, healing people, but instead of scootching past the enemy as he had been doing before, Twig opted to cut their weapons apart as he walked by.

As he was moving back towards Idun, where Twig knew he would be safe, he realized that something was amiss. Quillon had thrown a tank at a rushing soldier, but that soldier seemed unaffected by the attack. Instead, the soldier was sprinting towards Idun. The sight chilled Twig to his heart. It meant that they weren't completely safe under Quillon's powers. And this adversary seemed particularly powerful.

Lazarus's bloodhound immediately leaped forward to try to intercept the blade. This simple motion invigorated Twig to act himself. He knew that a simple magical spout of wind wouldn't do much against someone whose every movement radiated strength and power. So Twig gathered up all his strength and shot a beam of barely controlled, highly pressurized air at the soldier, hoping to either knock the blade off-course or to strike the soldier.

Immediately after he shot the beam of air, Twig let out a cry of agony and fell to the ground, rolling up into a fetal position, dropping his staff in the process. Twig had tried to control himself when attacking, but it seemed as if Twig had over-extended himself. He could feel his ancestral magic flowing through his veins, fighting to be released. And Twig knew that if he were to release it, it would be all over. His comrades, Parma, the Argossian soldiers, and the mages would all perish under the uncontrollable cyclone it would bring. No. No. No. Twig couldn't let the power escape. So curled up, Twig fought against the power, denying it the release it needed. It strained against Twig's mental barrier, and it took all of Twig's power to keep it in control.

He just hoped that he wasn't struggling vainly and that his beam of air actually accomplished something.

((

SidTheSkid

Diphylleia grayi

TPBx ))

SentinelSevn · May 16, 2019

Abilities

Location:
- Jann, Island city of Parma

Interactions:
- Idun,

Diphylleia grayi
- Twig,

Coyote Hart
- Lazarus,

SidTheSkid
- Marillys,

TPBx
- Jake,

vielpotato

Quillon Downs
38 || Ace || Spades
♠

Before he turned his eyes away from the Queen of Diamonds, Quillon caught a glimpse of another figure rapidly approaching her position. A figure closing in much faster onto her position than the other soldiers, and appearing from behind the tank he had just used to sweep through the unending slew of soldiers. Her attention seemed unfocused on him, as if she had yet to detect his approach. But Quillon was too far away to warn her, and did not want to take any risks regarding this unknown entity's strength.

"Twig, go!", he thought, resounding through the minds of both Idun and the stated Jack of Hearts. Quillon watched as the figure rose a blade over his head, just as Quillon rose a palm in Idun's direction. The ground around her erupted as a wave of telekinetic force struck her from behind, sending her flying halfway across the courtyard, but far enough away that she had safety from her assailant's strike.

Soon enough, with his eyes still intently on this lone soldier, Quillon saw the that the crimson constructs of Lazarus had also made an attempt in defending their ally. As well as a giant gust of air from Twig, which continued to grow in strength until it had reached absolute catastrophic amounts. It relieved him knowing that at least his allies were watching out for each other, because no one else had their backs this deep in the territory, at least until it was reclaimed.

Quillon had since lost sight of the unknown soldier, the tornado kicking up so much debris that the courtyard was now just a mass of swirling bodies and rubble. But through his mental link with the Heart, Quillon could tell that Twig's mental fortitude was already reaching such a low point that Quillon could attempt a full mind control if he so wished.

Quillon looked towards the tornado, and began to reinforce Twig's magic with his own. Barriers of unbreakable telekinetic energy surrounded the cyclone in the shape of a funnel, an inverted pyramid restraining the destructive power of Twig's magic and the tip focusing it solely on the soldier, who would now be trapped within the walls. The more Twig allowed himself to succumb to the magic, the more destructive the winds became. Quillon took advantage of this, pushing the walls in to become narrower, and the ceiling ever so closer to the ground, to condense the air even more. Bystanders would see the destructive power of the wind magic reign supreme within the walls, tearing up the ground beneath it and obliterating all large forms of matter as if it were some building-level blender. Outside the walls, the ground was untouched, and unphased; an indicator of how powerful and containing these walls truly were.

"Give in, these walls are an easy feat to hold." He thought again, this time to solely to Twig. But the sound of his voice contradicted his words. His speech was slurring, and it was as if even his thoughts were running out of breath. All three of the other Royals would soon feel the effects that Quillon's heightened limits gave them begin to fall to a much lower extent. Lazarus, who had been the only one to have experienced any mortal wounds since they began, would begin to feel more of the sharp pain that Quillon had been withholding from him. Twig, who had already been exhausting himself to this extent, would begin to feel even more so, as the increased physical thresholds he had given them began to drop.

For Quillon, as almighty as he believed he was, also had his own limits. He had been aware from the start that attempting to switch between his various magics at such a rapid rate was going to drain him two-.. no thrice-fold. He had begun with mass mind manipulation, as well as the sensory manipulation of his allies. The rapid change from mind manipulation to telekinesis, the most draining of his techniques, took even more of a toll. Funneling this wind magic in any other scenario would have been a piece of cake. In fact, he could have leveled this entire city in a single telekinetic burst if he so wished..

And as the traces of Quillon's thoughts left the minds of the three other royals, they were left with only one word. "Leave.." And their thoughts went blank. Empty. Almost silent. The calm before the storm..

And so it began.. the simple thought of leveling the city and he had become completely unaware that he was already attempting to do so. The ground began to quake, buildings began to crumble from the down up. Soldiers were losing their balance, as a reverberating wave of force emitted from Quillon, who had since dropped to one of his knees. He had a hand resting upon the top of said knee as his shallow, desperate breathing, mimicked the force of the quakes. The Ace was succumbing to his own powers, and his own thoughts; the man infamous for his manipulative abilities, was being manipulated by his very own strengths. Power that leveled the subject of nightmares..

But the Argossian soldiers were ignorant of this. Instead, seeing one of their foes falling to their feet, they took it as a sign of approaching victory. Those that could steady themselves against the quaking earth beneath them readied their rifles to their cheeks, and took aim towards the Ace. Soon there were ten.. twenty.. maybe thirty soldiers attempting to lay fire on the kneeling Royal. Gunshot after gunshot, left their barrels and left a puff of smoke in their wake. However, even through the moving earth shifting his figure to the left and to the right, he sat unmoving.

Through the shifting earth, the soldiers had been unable to see that whatever they fired became immediately granulated into a fine dust as it came mere inches from the Ace. Dust of lead and trace copper, swirling around the telekinetic barrier that decimated all that it touched with a grinding force. And suddenly, the shaking stopped. And it was if, the courtyard stood still. The dust of lead surrounding the Ace came into view like a thick fog, cloaking parts of him from view until suddenly, it lashed out. Like a scythe, it reeled itself back until it made a horizontal sweep through the nearby soldiers. It dismembered and it skewered, eviscerated as it lashed out like the long claw of a hungry beast.. as the Ace just knelt in a loss of complete focus.

His instincts and thoughts were encapsulating his sense of logic, and it was as if he had forgotten why they had come to Jann in the first place. No, he hadn't forgotten.. He knew, to remove the threat..

In a show of insurmountable force, the reason for all the tremors soon pieced together. He rose the hand that was not placed on his knee, as if he was making an invisible offering to the sky. And seamlessly, the pieces of the buildings behind him began to rise along with it. Firstly it was the buildings right behind him. Soon, it was the buildings behind that. And thereafter, the buildings behind those. Until eventually, Quillon had the shattered remains of about a quarter city block's buildings floating in the sky above. He gazed up at them with glossy eyes, as they chiseled themselves into makeshift pikes of stone, the width of a grown man's torso and at a length of about eight meters. There were hundreds, maybe thousands, of the stone spears just hovering in the air.

And as his hand fell to the earth, so they followed. The sound of whistling filled the air as all of these projectiles fell from the sky. As the first struck the earth, an unfortunate Argossian soldier who had been watching the sky in awe, was completely unprepared to be launched backwards as he felt a heavy blow strike him square in the chest. The strike kicked up earth and gravel but as it cleared, the result was clear as the gap between his breasts, or at least what was left of it. The spear had embed itself directly below the top of his sternum, and protruded out the small of his back. His head and neck at an odd angle, knocked backwards and barely held in place by the remains of his shoulders. And there the soldier stood, suspended for time to waste him away.

But the others were only given a moment to let their fear stir. The rest of the volley came within seconds, striking the entirety of the courtyard with a force that could only be described as utter chaos. Dust and destruction filled the air, with the only thing left standing in the cloud of mayhem being the tornado contained within its center. But the spears struck without selectivity, even shooting through the walls of the tornado and surviving long enough purely on momentum to strike the earth and the would-be contained soldier, before even too becoming dust in the tornado's wake. The spears had no bias, no control. And much to the dismay of the other royals, and perhaps even Quillon once he was able to regain control, they struck without regard of who or what they landed on. Whether it be Argossian, or Diamond soldier, those who fell within the its reaches were doomed to be scattered to the wind.

And thus, the spears continued to wreak havoc. In what seemed like an endless rain, a darkness that swallowed the courtyard and all its surroundings until the only screaming to be heard was the collision of stone against stone, and the earth churning and falling into the abyss.

TPBx · May 17, 2019

Marillys Argossia

A giant blood wolf pounced between Marillys and Idun as he set himself up to strike down the Diamond. Marillys backed off as it growled, knowing that this was a much stronger magical construct unlike the rest of the mages he had fought earlier. The Blood Wolf then lunged at Marillys, its jaws clamping down on his sword as he attempted to block the attack. In the sky several Blood Crows dove in to harass him, scratching and cutting up Marillys's back as he struggled to deal with the beast. The Homunculus then swung around his sword landing on the Blood Wolf's back and started straddling the canine. He flipped his grip on his sword so he could pull it towards him and cut into the Wolf's jaw. Realizing this the Wolf went into a frenzy slamming Marillys into nearby walls and the ground beneath them, but Marillys's unnatural strength prevailed as he only tightened his grip on his blade, feeling it cut into his skin as he latched on for dear life. Then the Captain roared loudly as he mustered the strength to finally pull the sword through the wolf, bisecting the bloody creature from the top down.

He then felt another attack coming as the wind around the area was sucked into a concentrated vortex of debris that headed toward him. Behind the attack he noticed a younger mage who was definitely a lot stronger than the previous air-bending mage he had just slain. Marillys hopped to the side to avoid the Aerial Blast, unluckily though the Blood Crows that attempted to attack Marillys did not fair well against the sudden rush of air and were sent flying several tens of meters into the sky. Though the attack still had an extra bit of kick to it as large pieces of debris began flowing past him from the source of the Aerial Blast, different sized rocks, pieces of metal and bodies began flowing towards him.

So Marillys gracefully cut through each obstacle as they came. Even the living body of a soldier on his side didn't stop him as he marched towards his prey, slicing the poor soul in half as he continued to move forward. The mage that had cast such a powerful spell lay trembling on the floor in pain, it seemed like it was an all out attack, a gambit that was an admirable attempt at stopping the Homunculus. However, had ended up backfiring as the Captain of the Imperial Special Forces proved to be an incredible adversary, one bred for this moment and specially trained everyday for this kind of combat.

Marillys soon found an ever so brief opening within the raging storm and pulled out one pistol from his holster and took aim at the Wind Mage. He began training his aim onto him but was struggling because it turned out he cut up his primary shooting hand pretty well while taking care of the Blood Wolf. It wavered back and forth as he tried to regain focus and dampen the pain. Then the world began falling apart as another powerful mage used the tornado that was summoned by the Wind Mage and channeled it to encase him in a funnel of wind. He tried slashing his way through the wind like he did before, but the Wind Magic was reinforced by a telekinetic barrier so he couldn't just break through it with a counter gust of wind like he against the previous mage. He then removed his anti-magic coat, exposing himself to the elements and forced it and himself against the barrier. The area around the coat grew weaker, just enough to allow Marillys to slip through and escape the Tornado Prison.

Then came the final attack.

Marillys looked up and like the other soldiers, saw in awe as several gigantic spears ascended into the sky, but he knew that these obviously weren't friend and began making a mad dash across the courtyard towards what he though would be cover. Several spears went his direction, he ducked under one and rolled out of the next one. Marillys then stood up and grasped his blade with both hands as he sliced cleanly through another spear falling towards him, making the two halves fall to either side of him. More spears littered the earth, descending from the heavens at tremendous speeds, meanwhile Marillys did his best to cut and dodge his way through the attack, but there were just too many spears. Every so often a spear would strike him, but Marillys trucked through the attacks through the use of his supernatural regenerative abilities. One spear stuck through his off handed shoulder, another would strike his knee, and another would go through his left calf. Marillys would continue through, but with each successive hit, his body would be strained more and more.

Another spear struck through Marillys's back and as he pulled it out, he saw the leader covered by his telekinetic barrier that protected him from the attacks. Marillys realized that there was only one way he could manage to survive the attack, and the Homunculus trudged toward Quillion. He pulled the spear from his back and took a step. He slashed another spear out of the sky and took another step. Two more spears flew toward him that struck him in the leg and shoulder. Marillys continued forward. Groaning with each step as he was wrought with pain as each spear pierced through his defenses. Marillys roared one last time as he made a mad dash toward Quillion as several more spears fell down onto him.

Then everything went black...

vielpotato

Balfnaught1 · May 17, 2019

Travis grinned as his attack blew through the bow-wielding armour in one blow. The grin was promptly wiped off his face as two blows hit him simultaneously. He was able to deflect the dual-sword wielding clone but the chain whip slammed into him with incredible force, knocking him back several steps and injuring his ribs. He was forced to reassess the battle itself. He could take out each individual clone with relative ease but it would open him up to further attack, and he didn’t know how quickly Ethan could reform them. It would come down to a battle of endurance – whether he could endure the constant attacks long enough to withstand a decisive blow, or whether Ethan could wear him down in the mean-time. He honestly couldn’t predict a result from what he knew, and that’s when the thought struck him.
It wasn’t worth it. It fundamentally wasn’t worth it. The two of them represented some of the strongest fighters on their side, only outmatched by the Aces themselves. If they were injured, then it would be a serious blow to the war effort, especially as it was just for power. Travis had forgotten himself in the craze of the conference and the duel. This was war. There was no place for pride. Travis stared at the shadow warriors… and sheathed his blade, standing upright.
“I forfeit the duel”.

TPBx

vielpotato · May 17, 2019

As Samael was taking a stroll along the diamond market, making sure to enchant each and every mirror sellers were offering Samael to look at, he noticed a loud commotion occuring with a young woman and an older man. Not one of these things again was the only thought that passed through Samael’s mind. He walked closer to listen exactly what was happening, until he was pulled into the action without any time to listen. Feeling the jab in his side, along with the jabbing stares, Samael knew this person was looking for a favor from her job’s customer. “Excuse me sir, but I’m sure you are mistaken from this young lady. Now I would prefer if whatever argument you two had to be finished as I wish to have a conversation with her myself.” Samael spoke in such a high class mater, his self ego and pretentiousness could make sure the man wouldn’t dare offend who he could have been if he truly was an upper class. “Now, miss, if you could show me the way..” Samael said, with his eyes hinting for his contract as a payement.

Ariel

BreezeCatcher · May 18, 2019

Alaric - 9 - Hearts
Location : Atria - East Gate, Kingdom of Hearts

Alaric had been passing through Atria when the gates exploded. He had no reason for being in Atria, it was just where the road had led him on this fateful day. And it would seem that he was meant to be here as trouble immediately seemed to spring up. A fight had broken out between what would appear to be his kingdoms Ace and a powerful being, but that was none of Alaric's concern. For all he knew this was some sort of crazy power struggle, and he didn't care too much for such things. What he cared about were the people, and as the rubble flew he reached out with his abilities. A myriad of weapons flew threw the air, destroying some of the falling debris before it could do harm, but for those that couldn't wait, his life-link reached out to them and he immediately felt the crushing weight of their plight upon his body.

Wading through the destruction, he made his way to those trapped beneath the rubble. He had protected them but they still remained trapped and in need of his help. And he had to move quickly, for his life-links continued protection he continued to experience the crushing pressure of the rubble upon his body. How long could he hold out under these conditions. He didn't know, but he did know that with each person pulled from the rubble, the weight on his body lessened. But as he pulled a young woman from the rubble he noticed her eyes darting around erratically, the fear plain on her face, and how she clung to his side. That was when Alaric realized that the battlefield changed. Mixed in with the screams for help came a clicking, a clacking, and the buzzing of wings.

Monstrous insects were everywhere, pouncing on the citizens of the Kingdom of Hearts that he had worked so hard to protect. And with this new problem came a decision. One Alaric would make rather quickly, for time was of the essence, but one that would probably haunt him for days on end. He was already straining himself, his breath coming ragged. There was no way for him to keep his life-link up for those that remained trapped in the rubble and combat the vile insects attacking those that he had just saved. He had to pick but did he really have a choice, to continue to protect those trapped under the rubble would only lead to his own demise. And no matter how inviting the soft embrace of death might feel, he had work to do, people still needed his protection, he couldn't allow himself to become another casualty on this battlefield. Looking at the terrified woman on his arm, he found his resolve...and released his hold on those trapped beneath the rubble.

A whirlwind of weapons descended upon the insects. A broadsword cutting the head off one of the insects before the mandibles could end a child's life. Arrows piercing the thick carapace of a winged insect as it flew towards a couple who had resolved themselves to their fates, and held each other for what seemed like the last time. And with a shield bash, Alaric pushed one of the vile monsters off of a young man. "To me!" Alaric shouted for all to hear, before finishing the insect off. A barrier had appeared in the distance, and it seemed as if that had become the fallback point for the citizens retreat. Exhaustion was weighing heavy on his shoulders, but they had a direction, and with it Alaric began to cut a swathing path through the insects for the citizens to escape down. As they moved, cuts and bruises began to appear on Alaric's body, these insects were tough, and they were beginning to wear down on his defenses. But they were close to the barrier now, they only had a dozen or more streets to go before they reached it. They were going to make it.

(characters that might take notice)

Goonfire

Kloudy · May 21, 2019

The Argossian Invasion

The spears had decimated most of the Argossian foot soldiers as well as all of their armoured vehicles, along with most of the city too. A quarter of all the houses had been transformed into said spears and the rest were either entirely destroyed from the battle, drilled with spear holes or already on fire. Marillys lay on the ground, apparently defeated but not dead. The Four Suits' response force seemed successful, their last ditch effort had paid off.

But it wasn't enough.

"My, my, Mister Marillys. You've caused quite the chaotic mess, haven't you?"

A short figure robbed in a black shawl strolled up next to Marillys' unconscious form slowly, as if taking each step considerately. She had not been seen anywhere before on the battlefield and had simply appeared from nowhere it seemed. She had no aura, no magic signature, even no presence as if she weren't truly there but just a mirage. Her face was hidden by the cloak's hood, but the Suits would still feel a searching gaze come from within the shadows as the figure gazed in their direction. It was such an unseen yet piercing gaze that it felt as if she was stripping back the very soul and laying its contents bare. Her voice sounded old and young at the same time, careful and measured yet entirely authoritative, like a parent talking down to a child. She glanced back expectantly.

"Ah. The rest have arrived."

On the horizon, a fleet of metal battleships had crested. Several hundred destroyers with accompanying cruisers and carriers glided ever closer to Parma to reinforce the initial wave. Within them, there were undoubtedly more and more legions of Argossian soldiers ready to lay waste the destroyed island city all over again. Indeed, large artillery guns swivelled on the battleships' surfaces, bringing about heavy artillery armaments in preparation to bombard the island. Those conscious would notice that after the new fleet had come into view, upon looking back the cloaked figure and Marillys' unconscious body were gone. No sign of magic, teleportation, enhanced speed, invisibility or otherwise. They were just gone.

Several deafening booms sounded. The first volley was on its way.

TPBx

Diphylleia grayi · May 21, 2019

𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔦𝔞𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰
⟡

In the last seconds of summer, the hours are always too short and the seconds too long. With a tick of the second hand, the world slips back into the barren branches of autumn before settling in the white linens of winter right under her amaranthine fingers; chasing to grasp the loose ends of what has passed. She's stuck in the fabrics of yesterday and tomorrow, never being able to take place in today. Always a step behind, always too late she slips between the sparkling stars into dawn shooting spitfire over the horizon.

⟡

From grazing over the grovel in long strides her feet suddenly and inexplicably, take off in a stumble and she's sent faltering forward in a violent tumble across the courtyard. The accident has her grasping for control, limbs floundering for balance and hems ripping apart at the seams until the dress is merely rags of its former self. Arms heavy and legs covered in dust the girl scrambles to her feet, resin scraping off knees and thighs to uncover an iridescent mimic of flesh as alarmed eyes pick up the traces of where she left off.

But she's too late.

When she looks up time has passed her by and left her in the wake of its destruction; Weary souls faltering one after another in the tides of death pouring down from the heavens. The silhouettes become indistinguishable, friend and foe alike falling to the ground to refract into a field of red and grey.

As she crawls off again it does not occur to her that the next man she shields is an Argossian, it does not occur that the diamonds sprinting to the defence of a group are her enemies and it does not occur to her that the condition of the wounded ally she picks up was caused by previously mentioned. Her sight blurs between the overlaps of heaven and earth, words and thoughts being abandoned as regret streaks behind them in trails of repressed sobs. She cannot afford the hesitation which lingers in the buck of joints or the chaste moments of hope whispering worthless tales of salvation in the whistling wind as she reaches for the Jack of Hearts and his staff; lifting him under her arm and sprinting off in the bitter clenching of teeth.

In the corner of her eye, far in the distance, she catches a glimpse of the man who had once called her a puppet; now being corralled by his own powers.

⟡

Once presumed to be safe the girl lets the bodies under her arms down, gently propping both of them up against a nearby wall before wandering off again; a diamond fox sprinting off in the distance.

"I'm going to get Quillon."

⟡

The way back is a prayer of trembling hands and sharp breaths; voice spiralling off in the articulations of his name and feet struggling against the weight of the silence responding back. She cannot afford the compassion resting at the tip of her reaching fingers nor the determination of her creations, all collectively trying to reach the lost Ace but she holds onto it anyway. The will to not let his tomorrow fade, crumbling around the edges and waning in the middle.
In the background thunders the approaching enemy forces, giant metal apparitions hovering above in grey constellations of clouds; threatening to eliminate them on the spot. The panic becomes apparent as she starts to rush, arm stretching out towards the shrapnel wall only to be violently rejected. Doubt sets in the heel of her feet, slowly dragging her away as iridescent eyes glimmer in disbelief. Her limbs fight against the motion, torso turning but legs rooted firmly in their position, that is until the enemy makes itself reminded again and she is forced to flee due to the incoming artillery - gaze down and fists tensed.

⟡

Coyote Hart

Kloudy · May 23, 2019

The Royal Flushe - Two and Three

(250/2000)

“Now listen here Mister Ace of Hearts. I don’t think we got to finish our brawl!”

A voice called out in the distance but rapidly grew in volume as it approached. Two landed near Leolin with a thundering crash after having leaped from the city’s outskirts. Fists clenched with anticipation, the foolhardy Flushe member grinned at the ace, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he felt truly pumped up now that he’d died at least once. He pointed at his adversary in an obvious challenge, then flipped his hand over to gesture at Leolin to come at him. It was clear he wasn’t going to give up until one of them was dead... again.

“Don’t get in my way, Two. The food is trying to escape.”

The still-cloaked female was standing upon a nearby building, gazing with contempt at the magical barrier that had been erected over the city’s main administrative building. She was annoyed; that ridiculous Hearts queen had dared to mess with her and aid her prey to safety. It was undeniably irritating and she was probably using somebody kind of breast-enlargement magic on her chest to compensate for her hideous looks! Practically seething at this point, Three cast back her hood, allowed her moth-like wings to spread freely and smiled thinly down at the other woman through the barrier.

(500/500)

“I may not be able to compete physically against either of you, but my children will prove my strength.”

Moments later, several things happened. Something came clawing out from the ground near Two, cracks forming in the cobbled road as a large carapace head broke out from the surface. Lifting itself from the earth, the 10ft tall creature stood up to its full height and stared down at Leolin with glassy bug eyes. It was proportionately thick to its height, perhaps more so, bulging muscles and veins popping across it’s armoured body. Soon after a wave of bugs came into view a few hundred metres down the street approaching from the east. Skittering faster than the average human could run, it seemed the oversized cockroaches had finally made their way to the city’s centre on the hunt for more people. The more worrying event happened when a guard rushed out from the tunnel’s entrance and rushed over to his queen with a frantic look, explaining that something was blocking the tunnel. However the worst news was the intense murderous pressure that had suddenly appeared behind Guineverre.

The Royal Flushe - One

(300/1200)

The presence behind Guineverre turned out to be none other than the man that had been standing atop the administrative building, One - the leader of The Royal Flushe. He was standing less than a metre away from the Queen of Hearts to her rear, but it was only now that anyone took any notice of him. Perhaps he hadn’t been there a second ago, perhaps he had? The guard who had just delivered the bad news about the tunnel jumped back in shocked confusion, then drew his sword with uncertainty in One’s direction. The masked man had removed his cloak and gave the guard an emotionless look, like dead fish eyes, before returning his unreadable gaze to Guineverre. The massive aura of violent intent was gone now, replaced with a dull undertone that suggested the man did not possess any particularly destructive magic or at least didn’t have much mana. One nodded to himself for a moment before slowly turning his head to look up at Three’s location.

“Farlene Charlemagne’s story is not as pretty as her face.”

His expression did not change as he began recalling Three’s past, but rather kept as tempered and measured as it had been thus far.

“There was once a town of Hearts bordering the Clubs border who knew the Hive Scourge. They feared it. As they should, she was less controlled then.”

A small dagger appeared in his hand, seemingly from nowhere. He played with it, flicking it between his fingers unconsciously. The movements were practiced, skilled like a craftsman after decades of work.

“Her clan derives from a very rare bloodline that once wielded the powerful ability to command insects. Her family were unable to wield this power for generations, but Farlene could. When they found out, they dragged her to their sacred ancestor’s crypt and experimented until they could control this girl’s power for their own means. “

The blade stopped twirling abruptly and the nearby guard’s sword was suddenly somehow divided in two length ways. The guard’s fingers were apparently unharmed.

“Farlene broke that day, she became something entirely inhuman. She craved vengeance on her clan, but above that she craved sustenance...”

One finally turned back to Guineverre and looked deep into her eyes with his cold, dead gaze.

“Do you know what she did then?”

Goonfire