Fandom Madness: Plague

[The Regal Rper]

Mission Status...

▓ ▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌▌FAILURE▐▐▐▐▐▐▐▐▐ ▓​

- Field Status Unknown
- Remote Monitoring Disrupted
- Lethal Protocol Engaged

Plague Doctors Deployed​

Synopsis​

Gaea Glade held many opportunities and choices for the students of the Paean Program. What was inevitable, however, was the magical storm that brewed and would hit the archipelago on their first night. Their next challenge was not one of creatures, combat, or even themselves. Instead, it was their ability to survive the harsh brutality and unpredictability of the storm. Some did not make it, requiring intervention from the Staff to be saved. Most made it through the brunt of the storm and were able to take a brief respite in the night. That morning, they would find the Glade and its ecosystem had changed. The once lush, expansive island had turned into a dry, arid hellscape of dead, rotting vegetation. The soft, wet dirt from the day before had already become dry and torn asunder, revealing the darker layers beneath it alongside entire root systems of uprooted trees and brush. The air was intensely humid, but only temporarily as the harsh sun dried water table of the island. The heat rose by noon to upwards of 120F and by then the air had become dry enough to beginning sapping a soul of all its remaining hydration.

In this new, nearly desert heat, the survivors would find their Blips provided notifications--a first--of a single remaining Oasis on the island and that reaching said zone of habitation would be necessary at least by night as the island would only climb hotter until sundown where then the temperature would begin to plummet and the nocturnal predators would rise from the sun-dried wastes. Against the odds, the survivors managed to make their ways to the Oasis only for true chaos to strike. Separated from each other and cut off from their proctors magically and physically, the survivors had to encounter their newest and perhaps most dangerous challenge yet.

• Lilly & Tau
• Adrasteia & Agnes
• Ciel
• Serafim
• Midori & Gav

• 
  
  Tags: @Mook-LandStrider BriiAngelic
  Location: Silk Cocoon in the outer Oasis located on Gaea Glade
  Involved: O Ran'nō Daikumo
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Notes: This is an opportunity to go wild. Your characters have extended mana supplies as long as they do not contact webbing and there is no limit to force, outside of collateral damage to eachother.
  

  
  Prologue The primary magic users were forced to use alternative routes to their destination in the Oasis as foliage was lined with sticky webbing that drained mana when in the proximity. When significantly separated, the two found themselves captured in a massive cocoon of the webbing seemingly impervious to magic.
  

  
  
  If not for the severity of its nuisance, the cocoon that surrounded them might be considered nothing less than beautiful. Comprised of the finest, most even silken threads intricately woven together in a beatific fashion wherein the threads seemed to almost be fluid with no distinct pattern. Light from the canopies bled through the webbing, displaying how it was strong enough to withstand impacts from steel despite seeming even more fragile than the blanched white sight of notebook paper. It glimmered as sunlight not only shone through it, but almost down it like optic wire with occasional bundles intersecting to create starlets of silk. These silken threads seemed spread throughout the entire oasis, acting like villi in a digestive system where mana was the macronutrient that fed their growth. Even Gav was not immune to this, although he had no real need for his magical reserves. The cocoon around the two was the first time either had seen the webbing in any significant amount, though.
  
  Almost counter-intuitive to the webbing draining their mana was that the very air they breathed seem to recharge them. The storm from the night earlier filled the water in all its forms with intense magical energy insofar that it not only rejuvenated their previously depleted stores, but almost empowered what they had--as long as they remained out of contact with the webbing. It was sticky to touch, but not impossible to escape from by any margin. Annoying, if anything. Far more troublesome was that any sharp or serrated edge merely glided right off of it. Magical means to clear it was first weakened by absorption then repaired by the thin, prehensile silken strands weaving themselves together as if mending wounds with no small amount of intelligence. Perhaps a mage such as Dantas could break through, perhaps not. In any case, the cocoon seemed impenetrable for the moment.
  
  The thin webbing made a defined perimeter in the trees, but also connected their branches and leaves in what seemed like a faint blue hue, creating eerie, pale blue wisps of cotton all throughout the treeline and draped down like curtains of imported asian silk among the higher, stronger trees.
  
  No matter how beautiful, a prison was still a prison and this cocoon certainly seemed that. Even more when the warden of this prison was introduced.
  
  A shadow loomed from the treeline nearest the large clearing in the center of the cocoon. While there were no birds or fly from the trees, those with sensitive ears could hear the absolute stillness that came from the rest of the fauna. The rustling of leaves near the silken curtains and the shimmering of their almost incandescent glow revealed a large, fur-lined arachnid uncurling its long limbs from around the corner of the clearing. Each limb the size of a young tree, the spider itself nearly as tall as the treeline. Each leg as it appeared showed a dark blue, basically navy belt of fur that soaked in light unlike the silk that almost reflected it. This beast was massive and throughout its fur was lined the same webbing that the plant life was lined with, ready and willing to soak in mana. The size of this creature made it a brute. Slow and insidious, turning through the treeline slowly to reveal its full body. On its back, wrapped almost like a turban, was a massive sac of silk that brought its overall height above even the trees--in fact making the size of this spider somewhat disproportionate like a hermit crab.
  
  The large, black eyes of the arachnid narrowed down on the girls. It stood near them at least a hundred feet away, but its focus was plain as day. It lifted its hindmost legs to scratch the egg sac on its back and in doing so released what seemed like thousands of silken fibers into the air. In doing so came a rain of what seemed like a thousandfold more spiderlings, bright blue in appearance and in distinct contrast to their progenitor. Gliding down using the silk as threads, the spiders began a frantic pace at the two, coating the forest floor in what seemed like a bright blue carpet that encroached upon them hungry for a meal.
  
  
• 
  
  Tags: Sybil Arcanist
  Location: Oasis located on Gaea Glade
  Involved The Surgeon
  
  
  

  
  Prologue Ditched by Ciel and Sera, separated from the mages, and now split up by a pair of absurd women, Adra and Anges found themselves paired up in a two on one fight during their mission to reach the heart of the oasis.

  
  
  Midori and Gav had already left the two after being goaded by a woman with admittedly incredible spiritual energy and oddly pink hair. Even if they wanted to follow the two numb skulls, it's not exactly as if they were openly permitted. Barring there way was a woman only slightly taller than the short pink-haired lady and perhaps only a little older. In one hand, she held an aluminium clipboard with a few papers and the other was planted firmly on her waist. A long white lab coat tailored for her lithe body and what appeared to be work attire beneath made her her appear completely out of place. Still, she stood between them and the path the other three had left down just moments ago and it was pretty fair to see this lady had a significant wavelength to her, too, although admittedly nothing compared to the pink haired woman.
  
  "You might as well just let them go get their asses kicked," she explained with a matter-of-factly yet still somehow arrogant tone. "If my research is right--and it always is--you two probably can't even pair up, let alone resonate. Which is .. kind'a important because that's the only way you'd ever have a hope of getting through me," she explained with that same infuriating attitude.
  
  "It's not like you could help anyway. I'd say Shihan could beat all four of you even if you could pair up," she explained, this time at the very least not talking about herself. "Honestly, the only reason I'm here is so that you two don't go try and convince them not to join us," she continued explaining, this time letting out an exasperated sigh upon admitting her actual purpose which itself was somehow insulting even if true.
  
  "It really does suck to be the least important members of a team, huh?" she asked, not once changing her tone. Every word pouring out of her mouth as if it was written in stone. Her stance and body language only worsened the tone she spoke in. Her hair sat bluntly still, a rich but dark orange that flowed down her shoulders accented by her bright blue eyes. They were cutting, really, as if peering into the two like cuts of meat instead of actual people.
  
  
• 
  
  Tags: @Phayne
  Location: Heart of the Oasis located on Gaea Glade
  Involved The Orb Weaver
  
  
  

  
  Prologue As always, the blue-winged 'angel' of the survivors used his natural gifts to reach the oasis first, in no small part frustrated with the in-fighting and lack of efficiency. Ciel found himself literally invited to the deepest part of the forest with promises of peace and protection, so long as he have a pleasant conversation with his host.
  

  
  
  "Ah, Mr. Ashforth," said a soft, male voice once Ciel neared the large, silk-covered, tree-like structure at the heart of the Oasis. It must have been at least fifty feet tall. The voice emanated not from any one place, but more so from all around Ciel, as if the very silken threads were vocal chords. This was much unlike the small, purple arachnids that approached him like messengers earlier. This was more... human.
  
  Once in the light, it was quite evident that the structure was no tree. It was more akin to a dense mushroom, definitely some type of algae or fungus. The silken strands that adorned it didn't quite seem natural, but the forest the young man just trekked through was obviously home to many things that were far from natural. The silken path that led Ciel to this location had him bypass plenty of obstacles, like acidic waterfalls, man-eating plants, and even acted as a barrier against some types of hellish predators in the forest. While he might have had reservations at first, it at the very least would not have made sense to bring Ciel all the way here past so many deadly and dangerous perils only to do him harm there. Especially when all this voice asked for was... a conversation.
  
  "You made it. I'm glad," he continued. As he spoke more, one could tell his voice was still definitely masculine and even still human. He seemed more like a meek or timid guy, perhaps a gamer or cubical worker. Humble, but not pathetic. "Though I admit, I'm far more glad they didn't give me a bonehead that approaches every problem in life as if it were a punching bag," he then added. Then came a more cynical, almost sarcastic tone in his voice. It wasn't as refined as it was initially, yet somehow gained a notion of genuine frustration in doing so.
  
  "If you fly up, there's a plateau up here. It's where I've situated my workstation. We can talk in person," he said, giving Ciel a bit of instruction alongside simple explanation. "As promised, you can hear what I have to say, then figure out what you wanna do. If you don't like our proposition, I guess you can just chill while the idiots duke it out," he said, adding on to his previous explanation and elaborating on what was promised when Ciel was offered a solution without fighting or violence. It was, as promised, a simple conversation.
  
  "Oh yes, they call the Orb Weaver, or just Weaver for short," he said finally, forgetting to ever introduce himself.
  
  
• 
  
  Tags: Elenion Aura
  Location: Oasis located on Gaea Glade
  Involved The Aegis
  
  
  

  
  Prologue Serafim was split from the group in perhaps the best way conceivable: by his sister, Ismene. It seemed impossible as she should have been still in long term care, but here she seemed... fine. As if nothing had ever happened. And, now she wanted her brother to talk to someone partly responsible.

  
  
  The Ismene in front of him seemed to be real. All the right memories, the entirely right attitude, the right jokes, the right secrets. If she was an illusion, she was a perfect one. She couldn't just be some fabrication. There wasn't a trace of demonic essence inside her either nor any direct magic to be sensed. For all intent and purposes, the soul in front of him and the body it inhabited were those of his sister. The path she took was fairly clear and direct. Exactly what she told him. An open beachfront for the lake near the center of the Oasis. It was massive and majestic, but more so fairly clear and open. It didn't seem unsafe, although the forest had already showed some of its hidden fangs.
  
  It was almost impossible to deny the beauty of the lake, though. It's water was unlike almost any one had ever seen. It looked as if it were crystal clear, yet had an impossible azure hue that almost made the water where it was still seem like a giant sapphire. Fish and insects surrounded the waters, and brilliant green plant life grew below. It must have been fifteen or twenty feet before one couldn't make out fine details in the water, and in part that was due to the foliage. It was gorgeous, like diamond in the rough. But, it also felt incredible. Raw magic radiated from the water there more so than anywhere else inside the oasis. It was rejuvenating even to those without the need for mana. The water itself seemed laden with this intrinsic magical force and even those with weak soul perception could probably pick up that this was a pool for magic on the island as much as it was water and the two forces likely worked with each other to keep the oasis alive.
  
  These thoughts were broken, however, when Ismene stopped there walk to point out a long extension into the lake. It seemed like pier made entirely of moss or perhaps a large stone covered in it. Either way, it was definitely enough to support a crowd. Alone on it stood a man crouched over running his hand through the carpet of moss and Ismene pointed him out, noting he was an ally called "Aegis" and he was who they were here to see. After her explanation, she picked up speed into a run, making it to him in no time. He gave her a nod, then looked over Serafim.
  
  Aegis, as he was called, was a relatively short, young man of dark skin with white hair, a thick, black tattoo on his face and neck, wearing relatively simple garments and a stone necklace. He seemed quite serious. Honestly, he had the male equivalent of resting bitch face. That said, Ismene didn't give him any second thought. Upon closer inspection, his hair seemed significantly finer than it looked afar, he wore piercings in his ears, and his eyes were a light brown, somewhat reddish color. Even when he tried to smile, it appeared as if a scowl was on his face. It also looked like he was attempting to force himself to smile. Upon using Soul Perception, it would be fairly easy to see something was somewhat off about him, but at surface value without focusing, it was quite plain that he was a Demon Weapon of some kind.
  
  "You must be Serafim," he said, somewhat stating the obvious. "They call me Aegis, I suppose because my weapon form is a shield. I was also an Earth Shaman, but those days are over," he said, introducing himself. He then extended his hand to Serafirm for a proper shake to complete the greeting.
  
  
• 
  
  Tags: The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul
  Location: Oasis located on Gaea Glade
  Involved The Shihan
  
  

  
  Prologue Midori and Gavril were goaded by the mysterious woman with pink hair. She was faster and somehow stronger than both of them, yet alone revealed her wavelength for a minute--and when she did, it was tremendous. She stated she could fight both of them simultaneously, so of course, they ran off to oblige.

  
  
  She introduced herself as The Shihan. She claimed to be one of the greatest martial artists alive, rivaled perhaps alone by a few Hoshi and Black☆Star himself. It was a bold claim to compare oneself to a Warrior God, yet here she was doing so. Perhaps it was vanity or youthful pride, but neither Midori or Gavril could go without testing it. She insisted that if both of them didn't work together at the very least, it wouldn't even be fun for her. She insisted they start out at their full power, or it wouldn't even be fun. They thought she was boasting. They were wrong.
  
  Midori started only to be beaten and battered around, neither his sword arm or bolts able to touch her. At points, she was too fast to see and even perceive. He had never since the beginning of his training experience this gap in power. He obliged her requests to push himself to his maximum, but her raw skill allowed her to completely shut him down. It didn't seem to matter how fast he was, she made herself faster. More so, her entire body was far more dangerous than his partial weapon transformations as she seemingly effortlessly countered each attack his after images made or could make. It was flawless and left Midori devastated.
  
  Gav followed, pushing himself to his own maximum and brutalizing his body only to be shut down just as hard. The two were just so far beneath her that it was impossible to even compare who lost worse. Of course, then, this led to the two attempting to double team her. As cheap as it felt, the sting of their previous loss lessened the lack of honor this fight had. Even at their maximum speeds, even with their combined skill, they couldn't lay a hand on her. As the fight progressed, they learned to cover the other, defending their blindspots and at the very least preventing this pink haired devil from attacking by countering her when she did. The problem was that even doing this drained their reserves until neither had enough left to continue going at pace that could match her.
  
  To add insult to injury, the two even attempted a resonance technique by merging their wavelengths into a single bolt, but this attempt was stopped in its tracks before it could even be fired. Told it was "too slow" and would "never work in combat", the Shihan literally tore apart their resonance with a tiny insertion of her own wavelength into their bolt of combined energy, causing a catastrophic failure in their resonance which ultimately overloaded and caused immense feedback to both of them. Writhing in pain, the two were out of options and left defeated. Their ditch effort was for Midori to actually turn into a weapon and allow Gavril to fight with him, but before this could even occur, the Shihan simply blurred into existence behind Midori and knocked him out with a harsh chop to the back of his neck.
  
  It was complete and utter defeat.
  
  "The worst part," she said, "is that you're what passes for elites these days." As she spoke, something quite distinctive happened. Her once perfect, spotless skin began to age rapidly, darkening slightly and losing its glow. Her skin folded on itself, becoming covered in countless wrinkles while the pink hue to her hair began to fade into a grey that somehow seemed just as dark as the pink. She lost muscle mass, tone, height, and overall the livelihood in her step. Where there was once abundant, light-footed energy, there was now a rigid, stern stance on a smaller frame.
  
  "Gavril, is it?" she asked, her voice now drier and less effeminate. "You have potential, I won't lie. I see it in you, but it needs beaten out of you like gum on a shoe," she said, "I imagine your current teachers use new, confounded ways to try and make you worth a damn in a fight, but nothing beats the basics."
  
  

 

[Sybil]

Adrasteia Chandrice
"Whiplash"

The two bolting off after such a large scale event was beyond mind-boggling, but then again for the still somewhat drained Adrasteia she could not muster any real concern for something insignificant as chasing someone who wanted to clearly do their own thing. She simply stayed put, accidentally becoming the last one of two left where they were. The one with her seemed to be one she had assumed to be a meister yesterday, but who they were? The purple-haired girl had no real reason to pry just between the two of them. What was the purpose? Would it help them? Adra didn't think so. Her sullen eyes and lack of tension in her shoulders had never left her from the day before, the despair pushing her forwards as she slowly pushed to regain the inner energy she spent so much of then.

But, relaxation was clearly not on the menu. Neither was negotiations, not that the option ever enticed Adrasteia at any point since her near expulsion. The woman wore a labcoat and not much else of note, her words droning on into the brain of the chain whip which barely did more than metaphorically ran their fingers through them like running water. The words seemed irritated, disappointed possibly, but overall the current passing by her was arrogance.

Another one of these types... I can never escape them it seems...

"Do I kill you to be able to rest?" Her statement was plain and without much effort as she looked lazily at the likely enemy. Her mind, with all the chaos she had been through, was losing grip on what was important when she began the program, but that was obvious.

Location: Dall Island Oasis


Interactions: The Regal Rper
Mentions: Arcanist

code by RI.a

 

[Taigakitt]

Skoll Vargfang
CS​

Sweltering. That’s what the morning felt like. The temperature kept rising and rising and rising. Skoll had lost his group in the storm last night, good riddance, and now the climate took a turn for the absolute worst.

“Whoever doesn’t believe in climate change best make it out here,” he muttered to himself, wiping the sweat off his brow as his gaze swept the barren landscape.

Having remembered his past in the Amazonian jungle, this was just… sad. He had much enjoyed his time in the more tropical, wet woods of yesterday. This was too different, too quickly.

Toeing at the dry dirt, sending up a small dust cloud, he grumbled. The Blip mentioned needing to make it to an Oasis. Considering the desert landscape, he didn’t want to find out what the night would feel like. Luckily, if he needed to, he could just shift to keep warm.

Turning his human nose to the air, he drew in a deep breath, only to hack up a lung. The dry air was killer to the sinuses. At least he’d caught a scent of some type of moisture in the air, and he determined he’d need to make it in that direction.

As he rubbed his nose, he looked at the Blip and then at the sky, determining how much time he’d have left before the sun fell. There was no time to waste, even if he really wanted to go find some damn breakfast. That’s going to have to wait. He didn’t want to fail this.

​

Upon approaching the location of the Oasis, a new scent reached his nose and he slowed his tempo down. Narrowing his eyes, he looked at the horizon, seeing a figure out on the ground, one kneeling, and one standing.

His eyes darted in both directions, determining how to avoid what seemed like a conflict up ahead. It wasn’t his fight, and he saw no reason to get in between the two.

Skoll worked to try and walk a wiiiiide arc around them.

Mentions: Gavril ( The Regal Rper ) | Midori ( Sir Les Paul )​

 

[Elenion Aura]

​

Weapons Aimed by Destiny​

Gaea Glade – Oasis

Serafim and Ismene. Two halves of the same whole. Together they had entered this world. And together, they were meant to face the many trials of this life. Whatever hell may come. Neither of them had expected the hell to come from within... Seeing her there, now, Sera could scarcely believe his eyes. In that moment, his mind could not accept the truth of what he saw. This had to be some trick of the island. Its cruelest one yet. On guard, his nerves frayed to near breaking, he scowled at her, tension bunching in his shoulders. Any moment, he thought. Any moment, and this vision would fade. And the monsters would descend on him like a storm of claws and darkness. She only smiled at him, guessing his thoughts with a glance. She'd always been able to do that. And she'd always known exactly what to say. What he needed to hear.

"Brother, it's me."

☽☾​

The lake was beautiful. Serene. It shimmered with life and wonder. The light in it touched the light in Sera. And the darkness in him recoiled. This place. Was it truly the same island? The one that had been filled with such horrors... With Ismene, at this placid lake, memories of the past days were to Serafim like a fleeting dream, swiftly forgotten when the dreamer awakes. He could've stayed here beside these waters forever.

"Ser, have you been remembering to eat? You're looking a bit thin."

"... I eat." He retorted, a bit self conscious. Had he gotten thinner since she'd seen him last? Possibly. He remembered little of the days that followed the accident, but he doubted he'd eaten much. "How..." He trailed off, unsure of how to broach the question. Unsure if he wanted to know the answer. He changed direction. "How are you feeling?"

Ismene looked at him. Sera thought he saw her smile falter for a moment. She sighed, looked away, her lips parted as though the words were working their way up her throat. She caught sight of something. "There he is!" She exclaimed, masterfully avoiding the question. The 'he' in question was a vaguely man-shaped thing ahead who appeared to be standing on the lake. Sera did not know him. Ismene, apparently, did. Which was not unusual. She'd always been the more sociable of the two... Before Sera could clarify who exactly 'he' was, Ismene took off to him at a run. Bewildered, Sera shouted for her to not run, but nonetheless followed close behind.

Sera listened as 'Aegis' introduced himself. He froze as the boy extended his hand. Uncertainty gripped him. Who was this boy? Was he trustworthy? Where were the others?... The others! How had he forgotten? Seeing Ismene here had derailed his thoughts. He'd almost forgotten they even existed... If they ever had at all. Did it even matter anymore? He looked from Aegis' outstretched hand to Ismene. She was looking back at him, smiling serenely as she always did. Like he remembered her doing. She gave him a knowing nod.

They were together again. Nothing else mattered. He took the man's hand and shook.

Interactions: The Aegis

Tags:
Sir Les Paul​

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Aegis​

Thorn​

Species ??? (Weapon)
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis Lakefront on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Calm, collected

​

Elenion Aura

Aegis gripped his hand around that of Sera and gave it a firm squeeze, but a gentle motion up and down. It was a brief act, just a few seconds long, but it also represented something not quite present in the DWMA: a sense of equality. Of course, the DWMA was a massive body. It was a political body, military agency, and educational facility on a multi-national level. Serafim was in fact a student and the student-teacher dynamic was a clearly-defined one with a higher and lower status. This was not the case with Aegis. A simple handshake during a complete detour of his mission had the potential to carry much more meaning than the more stern, cold introductions of instructors at the DWMA.

His eyes were a medium shade of brown, not so dark that they contrasted his pristine white hair, but also far from being a light feature. More so, their brown saturation kept the slight undertone of red at bay, keeping his eyes more natural. It could be compared to the occasional red-eye in a photo more so than an outright bold color. Small, but important factors to pick up considering that Aegis kept his eyes locked with Sera's since the moment he extended his hand. Even with his sister there, attention was turned quite squarely to Ismene.

Once their hands dislodged, Aegis pulled it back and aligned it with his side, brushing it on his black cloak as he did. "It only makes sense that you're drowning in questions right this second. I do need to tell you that have a small window of time, here," Aegis told him, his eyes softening once the handshake was finished. His tone was quite matter-of-fact, but int he most humble way possible. A certain sense of self-righteous superiority was fairly common in the DWMA, but Aegis seemed to lack it--at least for now.

"First, this really is Ismene. I'll admit, I had nothing to do with her recovery. You would have to ask my companions, Weaver and Surge, and they're a little tied up right now. What I can tell you is that we took her from a long-term care facility in Death City where her charts made her out to be a lost cause," Aegis explained, answering questions he suspected Serafim had.

"Secondly, I'm not here to fight and Ismene may go where she pleases. I'm here to offer you an opportunity to make a difference in this world that involves more than being the lackey of a Death God. To be clear, we value personal autonomy quite highly, so if you do choose to remain with Lord Death and this petty Paean Project, all I do is leave disappointed and empty-handed."

"Lastly, I imagine you're asking, 'well why me?' and the answer is simple. Aside from being the victim of a broken, outdated system, you also have rare traits we've been in search of. You're a ranged-weapon Meister and your unique wavelength is exactly what Weaver said we would need. Honestly, my leader referred to you as 'perfect' for us. Like I said, we value personal autonomy. You aren't the only individual in the world with these traits, but you're one we think may honestly side with our cause if you heard it," he continued, even tying two points together as if the emphasis on them was more important than the first times he brought them up.

A brief pause permeated the air. Aegis had unloaded a lot of information onto Serafim. It was clear, too that Aegis wasn't exactly the brain of whatever group he was part of. Instead, he seemed to carry a type of loyalty, specifically when he referenced his leader. Not only that, he clearly carried considerable respect for his companions, almost as if admitting a certain type of superiority to him. It almost left the question of 'what was special about him?' if Aegis was given a role the role of talking to Serafim if he was so 'perfect' for their organization. What Aegis admittedly did was take into consideration what Sera might have been thinking or feeling at this time in a fairly human way which created a far different atmosphere than most of the DWMA.

"So, Serafim Tassilis, are you interested in who we are and what we want?" he asked after letting the moments air out, as if ringing out their tension like water in a damp rag. He looked over to Ismene whom also listened their conversation, but seemed to just let him speak for the bulk of it.

 

[Arcanist]

Agnes Fairhair

Mentioned: Adra ( Sybil ) | ??? ( Sir Les Paul / The Regal Rper )

Shit, sand. A grainy grievance. She never liked it, for a number of reasons. It was harder to conduct any sort of magnitude or vibrations through sand, meaning her deep love of tremours and earth destruction was limited in her hand-to-hand combat. That, and she hated the sensation of it, how it seemed to get everywhere without effort. Her parents always remarked how she cried at the beach because it lodged between her toes, got into unspoken crevices, and generally because she found sand in her shoes two weeks later from the trip.

Ugh.

Now, as if the forest's entire ecosystem changing overnight to a sandy hellscape hadn't been enough to put her in a foul mood, Gav and Midori running off to fight a pink-haired woman as children are like to swarm to lekplats, hadn't improved it. Worse yet, another woman, this one in a labcoat, blocked their way. She couldn't help but think of her mother when she saw a lab coat. She permanently lived in it, seeing as her research was constant.

Compared to Adra's slack posture and almost bored expression, Agnes's shoulders tightened, back poker-straight, eyeing the woman with deep suspicion. She tried to recall if she was a staff member who lurked around the DWMA or perhaps another student who joined them, but the latter she highly doubted. She remembered faces, and voices, rather well.

Her words - or rather her research as she assured was always right - may have had an inkling of truth in it. Agnes's eyes moved to Adra beside her. She was much calmer than during the chaos that happened yesterday but she could imagine their vastly different wavelengths. With enough training, perhaps it was possible, and it could have been wrong to cross it outright, but time wasn't a blessing they were afforded within this moment of time. The tone in her voice, acting as if this was entirely gospel, began to grate on the young noble. The twisting was most likely evident in her lips but she tried not to let that frustration boil over.

The woman's words, for the briefest moment, pushed her frustration to the side. "Join you?" Agnes narrowed her eyes. What on earth was that meant to mean? The woman wasn't helping her case any further, throwing such a riddle out to them, and worse yet, only going on to insult them further.

Or, so Agnes believed. She may have referred to her own state of affairs, her purpose within this 'group', which featured her, Shihan...God knows who else. But she focused on those words, that statement, jumping like some CD that was stuck on the same note. "Least important?" Her accented voice put too much emphasis on the 'tuh' in her words. "What gives you the right? You're speaking to DWMA Elites!" Those words stung, burning from food she had shovelled into her mouth far too quickly. Perhaps once Elites, in all actuality. They had to earn that title back, a thought that led Agnes to wonder the consequences of what would happen if she didn't.

Unexpectedly, she almost related to Adra's question.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Surgeon​

Dr. Hawks​

Species ???
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Bored, monotonous

​

Arcanist Sybil

The orange-haired girl rolled her head wistfully in the direction of Adra as she spoke, then gently realigned it to face Agnes when she offered her rebuttal. Her eyes remained half-lidded and her expression quite bland. It didn't seem that the threatening response from the weapon merited a reply nor did the fiery backlash from the Meister. She remained cool, collected, and honestly, somewhat bored. She was hardly on guard despite the nearly taunting nature of her remarks.

[ INSIGHT CHECK: SUCCESS ]​

A point of interest came in the form of fruition from the thought process Agnes had when she saw this girl. More specifically, the thought, 'had she ever seen her before?' The answer was yes, but not directly. This woman was at least somewhat famous within Death City. Some type of renown doctor that was both researcher and agent for the DWMA. Not just some type of physician, either. There were plenty of doctors in the DWMA. While Agnes likely couldn't quite put her finger on it, this woman had to have been on some type of book for her face to show up, or maybe Death City publications. She did or was something important because there was no mistaking that dark orange hair contrasted by the bright eyes.

"If you could kill me, I wouldn't be here," the woman responded to the foreboding question the weapon asked her. "And, if you were important, my mission would be to recruit you," she added, tying Agnes' question about joining them in with her comment about being important. While she seemed quite dull and emotionless, there seemed to be a fairly direct, cutting type of sarcasm that came from her. The type of truth that no one wanted to hear or that was made worse with wording.

As she spoke, she slid her hand into her lab coat pocket and pulled out some type of paper roughly seven or eight inches long and a little under an inch wide. By the time she had finished her comment to Agnes, she had the top of the perforated paper torn open, exposing the stainless steel end of some type of utensil. She then sighed once she finished her comment and held the utensil by its metal end, letting the paper slide down it to reveal the full length of a sterilized scalpel that she then flipped up into her hand and gripped almost like a pencil.

"But, if you insist, this is all I'll really need for you two," she told them while holding the incredibly small blade in the same matter-of-fact tone she had used earlier. She straightened her posture slightly, holding her right hand with the scalpel out further while her left held the clip board in arguably the most odd combat stance either of the two had ever seen.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Gav | Gaea Glade​

To say he had slept like a rock would have been a understatement. The weather transformations hadn't been something he had anticipated. No doubt a magical field that fucked with the climate around these parts due to some event that had occured on this island thousands of years ago was a result. Gav however, like usual, walked among the group saying little.

The fact they had been split up again was deeply frustrating. Perhaps he really did need to drop the gimmicks he was pulling, quit the acting and just be more straight. His eyes glanced at Adra.

For some reason his eyes had been doing that a lot lately. He wasn't sure why.

He recalled that look on her face from yesterday and his eyes hovered on the back of her head a little longer. Then his eyes shifted to Midori, expression as neutral as it had been since they'd all awoken and lived to tell the tale after that horrid frozen night. His respect for Midori had dropped significantly and then went back up all in the span of a single day. But now there were levels to that respect.

Damn it's too quiet. Yet silence was what he needed, else he would have missed hearing those unfamiliar steps.

The shortstack introduced herself as Shihan. He had never heard of her, at least that was what he had felt at first. The name did not ring immediate bells, but it sounded vaguely familiar.

Upon being challenged, Gav ignored her. She kept her distance, didn't make any sudden moves, just a bunch of claims that to him were half-assed at best. He ignored her and would have continued to do so had the shortie in pink sticked with the taunting and the bluffing. Unlike Midori who was willing to finish this new test the staff had thrown at them, Gav was disinterested. He hadn't been feeling that same level of energy since yesterday. Seeing Midori wreck all those creatures had shaken a part of him, not with fear but understanding that he really wasn't on par with the guy. Not yet...but soon.

"You got this." He nodded to Midori. More like he could move faster than him to handle it. Gav found no reason wasting energy on this when Midori could finish it just as quickly and with less broken bones.

It wasn't until Shihan yelled at him specifically, calling him a pathetic an inept Meister just as much as he was an inept mage.

That. That made Gav stop, turn, and look her in the eye.

That single look made him realize that this test attempt, whatever this test attempt was supposed to be that the staff was throwing, was supposed to be one he took.

"Princess, Ponytail, see ya." And he was off. Gav went with Shihan who led them to a clearing a good distance away. A part of him knew something wasn't right about this. Something was off here, but he ignored it. She shouldn't have known about something like that. It wasn't common knowledge, it was a private thing among witches. Either their child inherited the magical spark, they got something else, or they were "a disgusting normal." And that was all kept private. He'd met so very few male-hybrids that were like him in DWMA, done the research even to see if there were others- there just weren't. It wasn't that common. So how?

When they came to a stop it was Midori that prompted Shihan, calling her out on her bogus claims.

Then he felt it. For one brief second, he felt a tidal wave. A rushing river that swept everything in it away, downstream. It was...overwhelming. The scream of her soul made Gav cover his ears.

Then it was over. It took him s few seconds longer to realize since his ears were ringing. By the time he came to in full, Midori was already fighting.

But he wasn't winning.

Didn't mean Gav felt rushed to join. He sat back and watched. Choosing to observe. Trying to think of the name. Shihan. Where had he heard that before? Why couldn't he remember it that well? Why was it familiar yet out of reach?

The battle intensified, and Midori was struggling. It almost felt good watching him struggle for a bit. Dare he admit it, Gav almost wanted to see the guy get his ass kicked just so when he stepped he, he could come back up on top. Show off how all that hard work hadn't been thrown down the drain by some Two-Star getting dropped down a few pegs to completely one up him.

But then the fight's tone shifted. And Gav realized perhaps it was time to step in. When he did he was blown away. Every thing he did, she evaded or countered. She was good. And as the fight continued his frustration took hold as he came to see that she wasn't good, She was better.

Working with Midori at that point, honestly felt like it was the only option. At both their max he felt they could have landed a single hit, but nah. Nothing. She was a kid, they were her toys. They probably both had a good foot over her also- she was fucking tiny their range was greater than hers, they had speed, power, what was giving her all this advantage?! Was it experience? That was bullshit- there was no way a three-star wouldn't at least get knocked back once if a team like them were on the job. How was she doing this?!

Gav didn't get the answer, what he got was a sucker punch that knocked the last of his energy out of him, and Midori got a K.O. for his troubles.

"Shit", he got what he wanted. He'd outlasted Midori.


Staring at Shihan, Gav had to admit the young woman was sexy as hell. This probably wasn't the right time and maybe that tree trunk he'd flown through had messed with his senses a bit but--

--all of a sudden she was old. A classic GILF. A Grandma I would Love to Fuck. Gav stared with slightly wider eyes. Chicks didn't do it for him often, but even with his ass handed to him and served up, had Shihan not went all wrinkly on him he would have probably, maybe, happily put a bun in her oven because Death by damned she had had the hips for days.

Too bad she was ancient.

Then again, so was his mom, brother, sister, and pretty much every other maternal relative he had. Age, was just a number. To him that was literal. His lifespan would already slightly exceed a normal human's by a couple decades and that was just a gift of being half-spawn. So maybe if he was if she could stay in that young form long enough to--

Oh wait, wait.... was she? Was she talking?

He squinted at her. Reading lips was easier.

Perhaps he was suffering from a concussion.

Gav shook his head slowly and rubbed his temple. When Shihan addressed him he managed to focus, somehow. He stuck to just reading her lips because not all of what she was saying was sticking. Something about beating him?

For a brief moment he panicked and thought she had read his mind about the weird thoughts he had just had and was accepting his possibly joking proposal. Oh fuck no, he hadn't meant literally. He wasn't mentally prepared for chick loving-- wait no. No wait. He-- think, c'mon this is serious. Training. He remembered. She said he had potential and his training needed work.

The grimace spawned on his face at last after several seconds of staring at her with a glare that hid all his mental cartwheels from the outside world.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean! The fuck do you even want from me here lady, jeez. Bad enough I got this asshole unconscious, now you're over here telling me my skill ain't good either also? Damn, can't catch a break."

Oh, but from the sound of it- he just might. Gav heard someone else. A faint unfamiliar rumble of drums accompanied by the whistle of a flute. Gav wondered who it was but he made no sign he knew of someone else's presence.

"Look," he tried to get up and stumbled, cussing as he did. "What is it you want?" He winced, deciding to just stay on the knee. "I don't know what the heck you think you're doing but if this is part of the test, its a weird one!

Mentions: Taigakitt Arcanist Sybil

Interactions: Sir Les Paul

 

[Sybil]

Adrasteia Chandrice
"Whiplash"

The words seemed to drone on like endless buzzing to the weapon, her body sinking in this feeling of despair she was tapped into as it turned the lack of motivation into a motivator. What would be easier, to simply lay down? Or would it be to rid herself of opponents? One promised a longer more useful rest, and as her mind spent no time thinking of that option she straightened up slightly. It was obvious to the impulsive woman. She would do what she wants, and what she wanted is silence at this moment.

She would simply meander forward, not taking full strides but lazy steps as she had about as much energy as she had displayed. The opponent took a defensive stance seemingly, so why would she not take her time.

“You talk a lot. It’s annoying. You answered my question though without answering it. Tell me, is your soul pure? How will it feel?” The demon weapon loss any rigidity, their arms hanging loose as their head rolled on their shoulders.

If she was not stopped by the Meister or anything of note the girl would pause maybe ten feet away, swaying her shoulders side to side causing her arms to sway forwards and back, the right arm shooting back soon after a bit of swinging. As she brought it forward with a throw of her shoulder and solid step in her stance forward the arm transformed near the end of her whipping her arm, causing the chain to whip out at nearly top speed with their blades out . Once it would reach it’s end it would snap, the tip breaking the sound barrier aimed at the woman’s neck and chest to slash.

Location: Dall Island Oasis


Interactions: The Regal Rper
Mentions: Arcanist

code by RI.a

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Shihan​

Akari Hoshino​

Species Human
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Confident, stern

​

The Regal Rper Taigakitt

Shihan listened to every since word Gavril spoke. Her focus was as sharp as the scalpel her surgeon friend was likely using on his allies right this very second. She appeared stoic in demeanor, yet it was clear from her discerning eyes that every reaction the young Meister had was being judged. Not just any judgement, either. This was not the ignorant prejudice seen throughout Death City from the intermingling cultures. This was the cold, objective judgement of someone clearly superior; the type of judgement that no force beyond sheer stupidity or immense ego could resist. Needless to say, his attitude did not go unnoticed.

[ INSIGHT CHECK: FAILURE ]​

The title 'Shihan' perhaps sounded familiar, but it was an old one that predated the current Shinigami. It was an honorific that had become so antiquated that it was a mere cliff note in the DWMA. It was something most students read once and forgot. Something only the most avid fans of DWMA history would know. And, thus, the identity of this 'Shihan' if she earned said title was an absolute mystery. For Gavril, what a Shihan was and what said title would even denote were unknowns. It simply wasn't common knowledge and he wasn't the type of bookworm to know it. What he did know, however, was that the skill of this adversary and the raw power she exuded in her younger state were no joke; and, that if he perhaps survived this encounter, he should likely investigate what the Hell a Shihan was.

"It's not hard to see why you're in such a pitiable program," she told him in her direct, abrupt response. Her words carried the same hefty judgement as her gaze. Even without explaining what she meant, her dry tone conveyed well enough that she meant his speech.

"It's also not hard to see we have visitors," she said, refocusing her eyes in a direction through the shrubs and into the dense foliage to their West. While they weren't exactly on the outskirts of the Oasis, they were close enough at this point that sensing someone with Soul Perception was easily possible, especially if they were experienced. Perhaps out of Gav's range for now, but a master like Shihan had no problem.

"I was intended to handle you two alone, but plans have changed it seems. Be a dear and go retrieve this wanderer; they were likely from a different selection of students," she said, instructing him as if he were already one of her students. "Or don't, I don't care, but there's a good chance they'll be eaten by a giant spider if they venture far. Off to the West circling around us in a gentle curve, obviously attempting to avoid us. You should be able to perceive them once you get into the forest--if, that is, you give a damn about a life that isn't yours," she added as if salting the statement with the wonderful taste of guilt.

"Oh,"​

She said, finally speaking in a different tone, this time a slightly higher pitch than what she was using. "I should tell you, this isn't a test. Our leader has disrupted that magical twat that was watching you and gave those diluted pansies that pass as instructors something else to do for a while," she told him, this time her voice more lively and full. What she considered an afterthought here was probably the most interesting thing she had said thus far, but was cut short by her next statement, "go retrieve the wanderer and I'll tell you whatever you want to know, kiddo."

 

[Arcanist]

Agnes Fairhair

Mentioned: - | Adra ( Sybil ), ??? ( Sir Les Paul )

[font=Lato]The bored expression on this woman's face only sought to rile Agnes much more than it already had. Neither response seemed to have an effect on her, which made the young woman doubt words or negotiations were going to be a staple of this conversation with lab-coat woman. Worse yet, where she saw her face had only led her to become further frustrated. She knew she saw it before, that it had to have held some immense importance if Agnes was racking her brain for some sort of "Aha!" moment. None came, and the woman's bored tone pulled her out of her thoughts.

There it was again, a whole situation surrounding recruitment. Just what organisation were they recruiting for? It can't have been legal, perhaps underground or shady, but then why would she willingly show her face to them, no less one who had a vague recollection of her...

And just what made Gav and Midori so much more important and recruitable than them?! It's not as if either of them weren't bright stars dimmed by shadows. None of them were, but she felt she deserved to be a little selfish in her thinking at that moment. She'd have refused to join them anyway, given the repercussions that would bring back on her name if whatever she was recruiting for was shady. That would have been the Cherry on top of a Bakewell in comparison to the news of her demerits swimming across the sea to Sweden. Such thoughts led to her cheeks puffing out as if a chipmunk storing a full winter's resources in her cheeks, white skin taking a strawberry red hue.

Agnes felt her fingers wiggle, too relaxed in the presence of a stranger, and her hand formed a fist when the woman reached into her pocket. Someone reaching so staggeringly into their pocket was never a positive sign from Agnes's experience. And lo and behold, adopting a readied stance had proven her hypothesis correct, for out came a scalpel that gleamed under the sun's harsh light. Inconspicuous, perhaps, to be used as a weapon, but Agnes preferred caution in what was about to turn into a violent confrontation. The way the woman held it like a pencil reminded her of a student who had actually thrown pencils like they were shurikens, each wiggling in the walls and leaving granite spots above a teacher. She had learned, from then, to never underestimate the power of even a pencil. Her battle stance though...ach, she didn't have time to analyse that.

Agnes had spent too much time in her thoughts, unsurprisingly, and Adra had already advanced, her shoulders loosening, her arms swaying like blades of grass being pulled every which way in a storm. She shouted, "Adra, wait a minute--!" But the chain and its blades lunged forwards with the woman's neck and chest as a target. Stupid girl, the Fairhair's cheeks deflated, rushing forth. She had no choice but to get involved now, lest Adra found a scalpel wobbling in her neck.

Though the sand proved much slippier than the forest floor she had become accostumed too, she still managed to gain enough speed in her sprinting towards the woman, aiming for her side-on. If Agnes found herself close enough, she would halt on one leg momentarily, swivel on it as she lifted her right leg and forced it with considerable strength towards the arm the woman held that supposed dreaded scalpel in.

 

[Elenion Aura]

​

Weapons Aimed by Destiny​

Gaea Glade – Oasis

Serafim listened in resolute silence as the man - he didn't look much older than Sera himself - explained how he, and more importantly Ismene, had come to this place. It was true. He had questions. But his questions did not weigh so heavily on his mind anymore. Ismene was here. She was real. Serafim felt at once guilty and relieved. This felt un-earned. He did not deserve to have her. Not until he'd completed his penance... But, that was a selfish viewpoint. He should be simply happy that she was all right. Why was he not happy? And had he ever been?

Ismene nudged him, catching him as his mind started to wander and he began to spiral within himself. She drew him back out again, and he was once more listening as Aegis dangled tidbits of information before him, leading him toward something, some conclusion that Sera was meant to either draw on his own or be pointed toward. Either way, Sera admitted himself intrigued, if a bit daunted. The way they spoke about Lord Death... Sera assumed they - whoever 'they' were - were at best a neutral third party to the DWMA, or at worst an enemy. And if that was the case, then he was standing before an enemy. But Ismene had ran up to him, the way she would an old friend. She trusted him. Shouldn't that be enough for him?

☽☾​

He's not sure what to think, let alone what to do. Ismene watched with mounting concern as she saw her brother's thoughts play clearly across his face. Clear to her, at least. Everyone in school always said Ser was hard to read. To her he'd always been an open book. She could tell when he was happy, or sad, or hungry, or bored. Right now he was unsure. He wanted to believe in what Aegis was telling him, but something was holding him back. She searched his face, wondering at what it might be. When she feared that whatever it was would be enough to dissuade him from at least hearing them out, she reached out and grabbed his hand, gave it a squeeze. As if to say, I'm with you.

☽☾​

He felt her touch like a jolt. He felt his heart race, then slow. In her eyes he saw what he lacked: surety, serenity, peace. He longed to be where she was. Even if it meant leaving his comrades behind? Serafim took a long, ragged breath to steady his fraying nerves, casting one last glance at Ismene before he turned back to Aegis. Looking him in the eye, Sera nodded solemnly. He would hear him out, at least. For Ismene.

Interactions:
The Aegis

Tags:
Sir Les Paul​

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Surgeon​

Dr. Hawks​

Species ???
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Bored, monotonous

​

Arcanist Sybil

Ugh. I don't deserve grunt work.​

She had no real fears or concerns about the weapon attacking her, nor her companion. Not only were their attacks fairly telegraphed by their movements, neither seemed to have any skill in masking their wavelengths. She could feel with pretty precise accuracy exactly where they were coming from even if she weren't able to see them, but being that she could, it merely meant she had two ways of assessing their attacks. This was an important. Hawks was a very observant woman. Able to make incredibly detailed plans in a split-second based off little-to-no data, but such was a skill developed by those in the medical field. Often, her decisions were all that stood between life and death.

In a way, that was true when she fought, too. Her decisions might just be all that stood between life and death.

Nonetheless, she could feel the weapon make her hyper sonic attack about as soon as she made it. Every movement of hers was telegraphed. Impulsive. Erratic. She was predictable in the same way a wild beast was. Much different from her companion whom obviously didn't share that wild streak despite indulging in the same assault. The problem was their absolute lack of synchrony. Agnes was moving far slower, perhaps to watch out for her unruly ally or perhaps to look for an opening. In either case, the gap that existed between Adra and her chain and Agnes with her kick was enough that they might as well have attacked entirely separately. Their lack of teamwork dissolved whatever benefit they had from this two-on-one scenario.

Adra was fast, but Hawks could match it. She lifted her clipboard and poured her wavelength into it, reinforcing it for the hit. It was a quick move and regardless of just how fast the weapon was, Hawks only had to move a few inches for an attach she predicted while Adra had to cover ten feet. Even an attack at the speed of sound still had to cover ground. More importantly, when the tip of the whip planted itself into the clipboard, their wavelengths matched for the first time. The clipboard was unscathed, but Hawks was not. No, she got a taste of Adra in a way that no one had predicted.

In that split moment, Hawks could feel the madness inside of Adra. Time almost stopped as their wavelengths collided. Hawks could feel both the depressive state and the mania all mixed up inside the weapon. She was absolutely unstable. It was no wonder she was in a program like this. Why wasn't she medicated? Why was she out in the field? It didn't matter! This was a glorious find. There was a seed of insanity inside of Adra that could easily bloom into true Madness, it reverberated in every extension of her wavelength when she performed a partial transformation. And madness? Oh madness... that excited Hawks.

Hawks grinned as soon as the brief moment was over and reality returned. It was like life was given a new purpose. Problem was, this other girl existed and unless she was mad, too, then she was just a distraction. The excitement coursing through Hawks' veins alongside her new found purpose exploded out of her as she empowered her entire body--not unlike Gav earlier--with her wavelength. Her eyes, now narrowed and a steely blue, focused purely on Agnes. "I don't time for you," she said aloud while simultaneously moving. She was fast. Surprisingly fast given she didn't appear to be any kind of combatant. She let go of the clipboard that blocked Adra and used that hand to catch the flying right leg of Agnes. She had momentum and that was her undoing--an object in motion tends to stay in motion.

She didn't catch Agnes' leg to grapple her or throw her or anything like that. She just needed a single moment of stillness. In that moment, Hawks took her scalpel in the precision grip she held it and slashed it forward quickly, cutting directly down Agnes leg through her pants in a single quick motion. The scalpel was so sharp and the surgical hands of the women holding it so fine that the pain wasn't even immediate. Instead, the first feeling of pain didn't even occur until the next act of Hawks; retreat.

Hawks flung herself back as soon as she slashed Agnes' leg, debuting her enhanced speed. It wasn't quite like they had seen before in Gav or Midori. Her agility seemed to be in how quick she could move her hands, but her land speed didn't seem to have the same finesse. When she leapt back, it was in a straight line, clearly. This acted as a 'reset' for the encounter, except this time, she was without her clipboard and with a newfound spark. Adra made such a wonderful subject.

"The gastrocnemius muscle of the posterior calf. I reattached yours a little shorter for now so that you won't get in the way," she said, explaining to Agnes what she did with an almost calm, soothing voice despite her now grinning, manic face. The juxtaposition between her voice and face was as off-putting as what she said at this point, not to mention the sudden change in demeanor.

Her steely blue, focused darted back to Adra and somehow her demented grin widened. "But you... I want to cut you up and see what makes you tick. There's a little madness in you and I want to know how it works," she said, lifting up her scalpel and holding it in front of her while her free hand remained open and to the side. Just a moment ago, her stance was defensive, but this was clearly a type of offensive or reactive, to say the least.

In short, Adra may not be the craziest person on this battlefield.

[ INJURY ASSESSMENT ]​

While Anges leg was clearly cut by the incredibly fast, skilled hands of the Surgeon wielding her scalpel, there was no actual wound or blood. The pain was only brief and instantaneous. Her pants would clearly be cut as well, but again, no blood stains. While one might initially believe the movement was perhaps so fast that the wound itself might not immediately be present, that would also prove untrue as any later assessment of the area would show no cut or even scar. Whatever the Surgeon did, it didn't appear to leave a mark. Her explanation likely revealed very little, but it would have lasting impacts. From this point on in combat, Agnes right leg will behave differently. The gastrocnemius muscle forms half of the calf muscle and is responsible for assisting in bending at the knee and moving the foot up and down. It is primarily involved with 'fast' movements such as running and jumping, but walking and other movement is affected to a lesser degree. In this case, any time Agnes would attempt to move her right leg from the knee down, the shortened muscle will flex "faster", throwing off her balance and ability to use her legs in synchronous motion. Important note: do not worry, these effects are temporary and do not impact Agnes other abilities. (If there are concerns, contact me for information.)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Aegis​

Thorn​

Species Earth Shaman (Weapon)
Partner ???
Rank Unranked

Location Oasis Lakefront on Gaea Glade
Mission Recruit Serafim
Status Calm, collected

​

Elenion Aura

The man before him was quite statuesque, difficult for likely even the most apt people-person to truly get a read on. Aegis was not necessarily known for his inherent people skills. The reassurance Ismene provided, however, gave some insight to Sera. Aegis was able to determine there was a significant amount of hesitance from the Meister, but such was to be expected. It was hard for Aegis to really formulate what to do, honestly. This was a task he thought Weaver or perhaps Shihan would be best for, but their leader said he had faith in Aegis. He said that if any of the four could convince Sera, it would be his most fervent follower. It would be him.

A fairly significant period of silence hung here after Sera nodded. Aegis remained calm, but it seemed quite clear that there was some type of difficulty or hang up. In all honesty, Aegis was just lost. He didn't want to disappoint their leader, but he felt like a fish out of water here. He closed his eyes for a second and just sighed.

"Honestly, man, this isn't what I normally do. I'm more like the yes-man to our leader. I'm the smartest or strongest by far," he said, finally admitting he was at a slight loss for words. "But, there's a reason I'm a yes-man. Before I met him, I felt like I had no real purpose. I'm Earth Shaman from a tribe in... a place you probably don't care about," he said, beginning to explain a bit about himself, but cutting short of his whole life story. Obviously some details were less important than others. "Thing is, the spirits of the Earth, that energy we tap into.. it deserted me. I started dedicating my life to the ways of our tribe, but I lost my connection. In my tribe, that's an ill-omen. In the DWMA, it basically puts you on a watch list. For a while, I guess, I was headed down a bad path. Not the worst, I guess, but I had no guidance. I was angry at the world, maybe even ashamed of myself," he explained. There was a genuine sullen nature to his story and it started connecting together a lot of traits about him.

"This lake, it's so beautiful. I can almost hear the spirits, like faint echoes deep beneath the soil, but I can't make out what they say or get their attention. I want to be angry at them which probably sounds stupid to you, but they're real... and I can't hate them. Have you ever wanted to be angry--felt like you deserved to be--but just couldn't bring yourself to do it? That's what this is like, man, and that was my life before him," he continued on explaining.

"He gave me a purpose, newfound power, and everything started to make sense. We're one of the best-kept secrets in the DWMA. Those that know about us call us the Anti-Death League, but they're far and few between. Truth be told, we don't seek to destroy it. We want reform. I hated them for years until he showed me a better path. I just wanted a chance and they refused because of something... I had no choice in. If I stayed with them, I was fated to be in NOT classes to control my weapon form, then booted out to be a pariah in my home. That's why I want change," he told him. The truth about their organization was unraveling in front of them and Ismene was far from shocked. It was as if she had heard it all before.

"It's not just about me, though. We all think Lord Death is still too immature of a Shinigami to run it entirely by himself. He's not his father. He is deceitful, hiding his failures and keeping the consequences of his choices from the general public. Our leader lost his partners and nearly died all directly due to the choices of Lord Death. Only reason he survived was his own unique wavelength," Aegis explained, this time broadening the topic to more than just his own story.

"Which... I guess leads us to you. You have the anti-Demon Wavelength and it's one of the few that is compatible with... well, it's a unique process that bestows considerable power onto the recipient. The same minds that mended your sister perfected it. But, it's not just that. You're a Meister and you specialize in long-range weapons. Our leader is a weapon, a ranged weapon. What we need to push for the change that the world needs is for him to have a partner," he said, pausing for a moment, then just shaking his head. "Sera, it's not just that all the puzzle pieces fit. It's that everyone that's behind us truly believes in our cause. We want to make the world better. We want better leadership for the DWMA," he told him, reinforcing the points he made earlier.

 

[Sybil]

Adrasteia Chandrice
"Whiplash"

It was not in her non-existent plan to be caught, her spontaneity being her edge and downfall. She simply reacted, especially in her despair-ridden state of her latent madness she could do little beside make actions in reaction to direct attacks.

But a little something sparked. Something she couldn’t deny. Someone connected with her, and not in the way one might heal or suppress her. No, this time someone entered and grazed her. A feat unobtainable to every meister who has tried up until this point. It was familiar, like Samsen, it was a connection intrinsic to the very core of who she and they were. Weapon and meister. Two halves. One whole.

The whip weapon threw her arm to the side, smashing the clipboard easily without it’s protection and withdrawing her arm as she gripped her shoulders, shivering. Her body was shivering... trembling as she stared down letting her bangs cover her face.

She... she.... i... they touched me... my soul wavelength.... h....
....
...
..
.

HOW DARE THEY?!

Adrasteia looked up, checking up on the seemingly fine meister, seemingly able to determine one thing. They weren’t in her way, and she turned her glaring two yellow eyes back at the woman who now proclaimed her interests. These interests of insanity? Her madness? Her? The teeth clenched, the spark inside of her as she seethed.

“Filthy slut, put your hand on me?? Put your wavelength on me without daring to ask such an honor?! Who?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! DAMN MEISTERS! DAMN DISGUSTING BREED, I’LL SKIN YOU ALL FOR THINKING YOU DESERVE ME! DON’T UNDERESTIMATE ME!” Her face distorted itself in anger, the tension in her jaw only matched in intensity by her eyes and near foaming mouth. She didn’t need to think, less so now as she began to run berserk.

She would glare, arms swaying once more as she kept her movements fluid as per her fighting stance demanded. Her own stance she had devised, one which needed the body to hold as little tension as possible... which was a feat ofstrength considering how much anger was inside.

But she wasn’t without a mind. She strikes similar, a thrust forward only to snap and fling the blades up once more as a slash. A similar attack, but the girl rushed to close distance, attempting to wind up a punch with her transformed fist which was nOw her sharp ended handle. In reality? She wanted to bait out a stab, then transforming to nullify the blade and then capitalize on the opening. Other than that? She would attempt this and try to pummel her as well.

A complete dead weight however to her fellow classmate, as regardless of her counter measures, rushing with so little info was reckless... then again that is her habit.

Location: Dall Island Oasis


Interactions: The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul
Mentions: Arcanist

code by RI.a

 

[The Regal Rper]

Gav | Gaea Glade​

Tch, he couldn't remember. Really wasn't the time to start regretting past self's cocky attitude and slacker position back in Gamma One, but here he was regretting anyway.

Gav listened, not that he had any real choice in the matter. At the very least, while she talked he could focus what energy he had on boosting his healing process by stimulating the muscles in his body with his wavelength and kicking cells into high gear. It would take a few minutes and he wouldn't be back to top shape but hey, better than being slightly off his top game than absolutely off his game.

His eyes didn't narrow and his expression didn't shift at the mention of the staff. It didn't take a genius to figure out by now she wasn't affiliated to DWMA after she started talking. It made perfect sense to a degree also given the current circumstances. The wording and way she talked about the staff must have meant that therr was someone out there that could counteract mage like abilities, anti-magic wavelength and maybe even devices that could counter other abilities perhaps? it didn't matter at the moment. Gav couldn't dwell on it long because this 'Shihan', had also spotted the guy he had.

That did make his brows twitch. Damn. He wanted to point out how dumb it was she was asking him to go bring someone who may fight back in his current state, but Gav already had a decent enough idea of her superficial personality that he wasn't supposed to be flapping his gums to make excuses. The woman wanted some damn results, and from the way she spoke, he was expected to do them.

The fact she seemed to imply he was a self-righteous, self-centered asshole seemed to make that last point pretty clear when she made that jab about him being uncaring enough to not give a shit about some idiot walking around in a unsuspecting trap.

"Fine. Give me a second." Was all he said. The pause that came lasted seconds and during it, Gav made no signs he was in a rush to get up. Whoever was roaming around, he could still hear them. He may not be a perceptionist but his hearing was on point. Even if they were faint, he could track this guy down- maybe see if they would work with him to take Midori and ditch since it clearly seemed the woman had no interest in him, else why knock him out? Why not stun him with her wavelength if she was as good as she said she was? Then again, he was basing it off assumptions. Theory, no real facts.

Go retrieve the wanderer and I'll tell you whatever you want to know, kiddo."​

His eyes remained closed. Gav didn't even bother looking Midori's way. He was dead weight right now, and showing any signs that he cared whether the guy lived or died while he was away was possible leverage this woman could use against him. If there was one thing he was good at that his master had taught him- it was hiding his emotions well enough when needed and being able to act like anyone who meant anything was as important to him as a bug on the sidewalk.

Wordless, he vanished. Launching up to a tree behind Shihan and then ricocheting odd the trunk to another, heading west to follow his target who he circled around and approached from the front. Whoever it was, they had good enough senses to detect the current fight. He couldn't tell by the sound of their soul, but he was pretty sure that this person was a soul perceptionist. The way they had stopped and then steered clear was a sign of it, or at the very least they were very sensitive to energy.

When Gav spotted the person in question, he landed on a branch and called down to the blonde. "Hey!" He called from above, the guy noticed him. "I knew I sensed someone earlier!" Gav said with a grin that betrayed his actual move and injected a level of joy and amusement that could kill a clown. "Where do you think you're going guy? I'm guessing you're another student or something right? Lemme guess, separated from the others also, right? Hahaha!" He clapped, staying in the shade of the trees and given the distance he was up at, no doubt seeing him from below was tough. He couldn't tell from this guy's soul what he was. Then again his weird abilities never really told him about species, all it could tell him was mental or spiritual state, even physical if he paid attention.

"Look, follow me this way here guy. The path you're heading is dangerous. You keep going that way and you're screwed, trust me. C'mon this way." He pointed down a different path, a different direction, away from Shihan and Midori. If he wanted this guy to follow him he needed to make it look like he wasn't affiliated. He needed this guy to trust him, even for a bit so at the very least if he could get him to play along instead of being forced to attack him that would make things easier. Shihan was probably studying his position now, if she felt he was running away- odds are she could cross the distance in a heartbeat and cut him off. The sooner he got this guy to work with him, the better. "While we go, lemme ask you a little something on the way..

Mentions: Taigakitt

Interactions: Sir Les Paul

 

[Taigakitt]

Skoll Vargfang​

Skoll clicked his tongue when he realized he seemed to be of interest to one of them from that group. Though it was too late to smother his spiritual pressure, as it wasn’t something he felt he had needed to really suppress, he wanted to sigh. It seemed as though suppressing it on these trials just wouldn’t matter anyway. Whenever he had been in a pickle before, he usually just fought his way out. This situation would be no different.

Welp, now to pretend like they were of no interest to him. Maybe they weren’t approaching him in particular? Only a dummy would think that. He didn’t get to his position thinking like a dummy. He sniffed the air, determining where the prey was lurking. Skoll wasn’t about to allow himself to become the prey. He was always the predator. Always.

When the man appeared on a branch, Skoll was not quite so surprised, but he made sure to jump back a distance, prepared for anything, even if the other was pretty high up in the trees, and the sun was kind of blinding. Though, upon inspection, the other seemed just as much of a student as he was. Was he beat up too? It was hard to tell.

Also? Ah, Skoll’s thoughts about the other being a student seemed to be on point. Should he lower his guard?

No.

“I’m going where the Blip told us to go.” He wasn’t sure how much information to give. Sure, he had been separated from his group, but it wasn’t a bother to the weapon.

Dangerous? This whole place was dangerous. Skoll narrowed his eyes, “I don’t know how my path is any more dangerous than any other, but… I’ll keep my eye on you.” It seemed the man had a bone to pick, though Skoll would do his best to keep that bone.

“Lead the way,” Skoll said cautiously. If this was part of a test, he didn’t want to fail it just because he didn’t listen.

Interactions: Gav ( The Regal Rper )
Other tag: Sir Les Paul ​

 

[Elenion Aura]

​

Memories... Like Tears in Rain​

Gaea Glade – Oasis

Serafim could not deny that part of what Aegis said rang true. He'd talked about it before with Ismene, only Ismene. His hidden resentments, his desire for revenge. No. Not revenge. Divine retribution. Back then, Ismene had always been the one to calm him. She'd always remind him that it was the DWMA who'd saved them. Who'd fed them and clothed them. Who'd given them a home when they were orphaned on that fateful night all those years ago. Who'd offered them every opportunity to succeed, in spite of their circumstances. Sera could hear her saying all of it. Even now, as she stood before him, apparently in league with something called the Anti-Death League. It all seemed so unbelievable... Had so much really changed in the time that they'd been apart? It didn't seem possible...

☽☾​

Ismene remembered the stars at night on their mountain. Sera and her would sleep beneath them sometimes, when the weather and their parents allowed. They were such children then, so young, so naive. Ismene couldn't remember the last time Sera had smiled the way he had on those cold nights, laughed the way he had when she'd told him a joke. Her jokes were never funny, but he used to laugh anyway just to humor her. Before her accident, Serafim had withdrawn so far from everyone and everything, that even Ismene could barely get a smile out of him anymore. It was no wonder, she thought, that he'd been sent to remedial classes.

☽☾​

Serafim froze as understanding percolated to the surface of his mind. This was a recruitment. Aegis was trying to get Sera to join the Anti-Death League, or whatever they called themselves. Because of his Wavelength, a memento of his murdered clan. Had Ismene known this? She must have. How could she expect him to agree to this? And to speak about these things so casually? After all the times she'd chastized him for thinking along these lines in the past? "I... Do not know what to say." Sera muttered, stalling for time, searching for the truth amidst all this confusion.

☽☾​

Ismene knew that her brother would be difficult to convince. She'd said as much before all of this began. Still, she thought it could be done. It had to be done. After all, they were meant to be together until the end.

☽☾​

If Sera read between the lines correctly, Aegis was suggesting that Serafim partner with this 'leader' of theirs. Serafim looked at Ismene and failed to picture himself partnered with anyone else. Even when she was in the hospital, he had told himself he'd rather be alone than find someone new. He was her partner and no one else's. He turned back to say as much to Aegis. He was ready to let that be the final word on the subject. After all, what he was asking was impossible. Ismene was already his partner.

"Ser, it's okay."

He felt her draw nearer to him. She squeezed his hand again, and instantly his guard fell away. His walls cast down. He was vulnerable. Without her, he'd never have agreed. But with her, there was never a chance he'd refuse.

"I'll always be with you. But, please, do this. For me."

That settled it, though he still could not quiet the black doubts lingering in the recesses of his mind. Serafim gulped hard, then nodded. "I... will try." He had never owed the DWMA anything, anyway.

Interactions:
The Aegis

Tags:
Sir Les Paul​

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Aegis​

Thorn​

Species Earth Shaman (Weapon)
Partner ???
Rank Unranked

Location Oasis Lakefront on Gaea Glade
Mission Recruit Serafim
Status Calm, collected

​

Elenion Aura

"This must be a lot to take in,"Aegis said. Serafim may have prided himself on how calm and stoic he appeared; or maybe, he didn't give two damns. It didn't matter in this case because written on his face was the reluctance. Aegis wracked his brain thinking of ways to try and answer the inquiries that must have been bubbling up inside the young Meister. Yet, it seemed he didn't have to. He saw how Ismene calmed him with just a touch. He saw how her voice, soft yet stern, brought him to serenity. He saw how she was the damaged one, yet she was the support for them both.

Aegis reflected back on what his leader said when detailing out the plans. This had been a long time coming and this excursion to Dall Island was just a perfect opportunity. His leader insisted Ismene be given her own free will, not coerced by Weaver. He insisted that the Surgeon do all she could for her and then some. He insisted Shihan give her lessons over the father of Lord Kidd and convince her that the younger Shinigami was still but a shadow of the former. He insisted they effectively and genuinely recruit Ismene... and now he understood why. Ismene was the key to Serafim. Aegis would have almost felt bad if not for how genuinely well Ismene was treated by the Plague Doctors. Still, to see these plans come to fruition was incredible.

"I think I should make sure things are clear. I told you about the Anti-Death League, but my leader and companions are only one small faction in that group. We called the Plague Doctors. And, if you are serious about joining us, I think it's time you know just who are leader is," Aegis explained, trying to add some better cohesion to the information he provided Serafim. His last rant was an emotional one, even for him. He pulled out deep secrets that he hadn't really vocalized before, but felt added the necessary weight to his words.

"We follow Antivu... he's known by a few other names. The Antivirus. The White Death. Apparently, even The Most Wanted Weapon in the World."

[ COMMON KNOWLEDGE: UPDATE ]​

Much like the FBI has a 'most wanted' list, the DWMA has a similar list. Most of the members on it are corrupted humans--powerful, dangerous, perhaps even possessing a low-level madness wavelength. Few were volatile and powerful Outlaw Witches. Even fewer were Fae or Human. But, Antivu was an exception. Some considered him a domestic terrorist, some considered him a vigilante, but everyone that knew of him was sure of one thing: one of the most dangerous living beings on the planet. His exploits had earned him the status of 'run on sight'--even groups of three star duos were instructed not to engage and mages had it even worse as rumor was, magic could not affect him. In fact, rumors surrounding him were abundant. It was common knowledge that the higher one went up in rank, the harder it was to remain solo. Autonomous Weapons rarely reached three star for this reason. Antivu was dubbed the 'Most Wanted Weapon in the World'; to earn that kind of moniker despite this intrinsic disadvantage garnered a lot creative feedback and speculation, yet the DWMA never released official statements about him. What little formal information on him existed in tandem with his 'run on sight' and 'do not engage' orders; it was that the man was most dangerous when he donned his white armor. It was possible Sera had even seen this on Death City News as this white armor--which appeared more like a full-body white suit with long-tailed jacket--was how Antivu appeared when he was caught on camera.

"He is not what the media makes him to be... Ismene has met him many times. Ask her," he said, clearly worried this new information would be a deal-breaker.

 

[Arcanist]

Agnes Fairhair

Mentions: Adra ( Sybil ), ??? ( Sir Les Paul ) | Interactions: -

To say the situation was dire was an understatement. Naturally, with Adra running forward and attacking like that, Agnes had little time to react or come up with any kind of game plan. She had been cautious, mainly because they were faced with an uncertain foe, and who knew what she could have pulled? It was much the same with Adra. She watched as both clipboard and chain clashed, and the two seemed to pause as if they could see into one another, as if communicating. No doubt this had been something to do with their wavelengths, but she couldn't feel or see a thing.

Something changed in that woman. What calm exterior she had put on before was wiped clean, replaced by some crazed visage, one not so different from that of Adra the day before. Could she not go one mission, one day, without someone losing control of themselves? She'd have been a hypocrite, considering the events previously, but she wasn't the only one to lose themselves in that regard. With the clipboard pulled apart, Agnes had thought she had a clean kick to tear into the lab-coated woman, but her fierce demeanour shattered when she felt her catch her leg. This should have been the part where Agnes shifted, used her hand or her arm, something other than to stare at this woman. She was waiting for something to happen, anything other than what she had watched her do next.

Agnes felt nothing - at least, not at first. But the scalpel cutting through to her leg sent a new sudden wave of terror through her, so much so that she hadn't realised Hawks had retreated after committing the heinous act and she had felt herself on the grand, cushioned by accursed sand. Now she would have been complaining about how she would be picking it out of God knew where later on, and yet, looking at her leg, waiting for any sort of wound to come up, and the pain to pass, she could only think, Not my leg. Anything but that.

Her mind flew back to sitting on that ward, with her brother, Annoying Twerp, then eleven, she fourteen, mindlessly blabbering on some topic that she failed to show any interest in. She watched flakes of black nail polish drop onto pale legs, all while straining to listen to the conversation between the doctor and her father in the room they sat outside of.

"Mister, uh..."

"Magnus. Just Magnus will do."

"Right, Magnus. Some of your leg should retain its normal function-"

"Some?" Agnes's mother intervened.

"Yes, some. It's too early to say for sure, but you may have to reconsider any future field missions. Your leg may become more of a hinderence than a blessing to you, giving the damage done to it."

"Mm. I see." Something about her father's tone hurt her. How calm it was, like he had known this, how he kept it from her and her brother and their mother. The way he smiled and laughed with them as if everything would go back to normal. Agnes wasn't so stupid to know things would change. But they were so much worse than she imagined.

"But it's early days. You'll at least be able to walk with it, albeit with some difficulty."

Things changed for them. For all of them. Her especially with a brand new millstone on her shoulders.

Which is why she couldn't go the same way. Never. Not now, not after the shit she's already gone through already.

Adra's shouting broke through Agnes's thoughts, the obscienities she was shouting and the crazed looks between both women. She was brought back to the present moment, watching and listening to that woman describe her deep fantasy of cutting Adra wide open, Adra's obscene insults and her fluid movements with the sole intention of doing damage to that woman. She had to stop one of them before either got hurt or worse. The last thing she needed to add to her record of misdeeds and fuck-ups was watching two people brutalise one another.

Though, standing proved to be difficult. Even as she tried to jump onto her feet and spring into action, she groaned and hissed at sudden stiffness in her leg, terror coming over her that she couldn't bend her knee or her foot. She spent her time trying to get up, like some pathetic turtle flailing on its back, all the while spectating two crazies spar. One was bad enough. Two just made matters much worse.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Truth of Matters
collab between Sir Les Paul Taigakitt The Regal Rper ​

Gav went around, avoiding the same path. Skoll stuck a bit behind, his sharp eyes watching him.

Sniff.

The entire travel back to Shihan's proximity, Gav kept his distance from the new guy. Gav kept his ears up and his alert on high. He didn't know who this guy was. He had never seen him before in the school. Images, faces, clothes, voices, a register of everyone he could remember, everyone he had interacted with was checked off in his mind as they moved. Sure, back in the day he had been a bit of a prude and showboater but he never forgot faces, the whole point of being a showboat enthusiast back then had been to test people and to interact with as many as possible. Being the bubbly sort hadn't fit his style so being the attention grabber fit for his background. It was what his master had advised him on, that if he wanted to interact with people, he needed to switch his methods of approach from aggression to a more sensible and approachable attitude. Although 'advise' was the wrong term, more like Raubtier had been the one to give him the idea.

Sniffsniff.

As they moved, Gav found himself irritated at the new guy. He never forgot faces-- unless they were ones he had actively chosen to avoid in the past and thus lost track of them in the present, but those were far and few-- the point was, he didn't know this guy. He liked to believe he knew a lot of people regardless on whether he was on good or bad terms with them. His spiritual notes sounded nothing like one he had heard of before in DWMA's US Branch, and he knew people in NOT for crying out loud. Without Soul Perception he also couldn't tell what this guy was, he wasn't an Earth Shaman like his master so there was no supernatural connection to aid him here either and despite being a Witch, he was pretty bad off magically.

Skoll’s eyes narrowed as the scent wafted into his nose, understanding working its way through his brain.

And now Gav was also a pretty bad off Meister under the mercy of some stranger. If this really was a test, which he had long since tossed aside as a theory, then it was doing a good job reminding him a bit about how old him used to be. Letting Midori go into that fight and getting wailed on for his own amusement had been a bit sick, Gav didn't want to admit that but he knew it. He was angry at the guy. He knew he was more skilled than him, but he hated how Midori had completely one upped him when they were surrounded by those beasts the previous day before. It was infuriating to realize that his talk hadn't been just simple bluff and talk. Whatever Midori had been doing since he got back into his career after his 'break' wasn't as bad as he thought it was. The guy really could have killed him had he gone the extra mile and challenged him. Frustrated, but keeping a pin on it Gav pointed as a signal for Skoll to follow him southeast, where they went around the direction he came and then made a curving right, going behind Shihan and Midori's position. If he flared his wavelength, she would no doubt sense it, could stop him from actually entering the field where Midori was and prevent this guy from knowing that he was the same kid he had stumbled on during that fight earlier.

Bleeding momentum off as they came to the ground, Gav rolled off a bush and slowed his speed down as both the werewolf and Meister came to a stop. "So, what's your name again?" Gav asked. Chit-chat to pass the time always helped. Especially since he was leading this guy into a trap.

Skoll couldn’t trust this guy. The closer they got to where he was being led, the more the scents made more sense to him. He stopped several feet away from Gav, taking one last sniff at the air as Gav had asked his name. “... Skoll.”

"Well Skoll--"

Widening his stance, a growl came to Skoll’s throat, which probably sounded funny coming from someone who looked human for now, “Listen, I don’t trust you even though you look like a student… You smell like a fight.” A fight he almost had run into “ What, you just wanted to ask my name? What about you?”

Taken slightly by surprise, literally not expecting this reaction- Gav didn't have anything to say. His expression reflected the shock even, and the moment it clicked he was looking at a werewolf, it suddenly made so much sense.

Looking at Gav, Skoll couldn’t care less what he was. If he was a student in this hell-forsaken land, then he did something wrong enough to land him here. It was enough to warrant being weary. Which seems funny, since he willingly followed the guy! Tests are stupid was a thought on Skoll’s mind.

"W-Whoa there now," Gav said, injecting that tremble in his voice and shifting his expression from surprise to anxious confusion. "Hold on there, that may be true but no need to get all nippy on me okay?" He grinned, the corners of his lips twitching as he tried to stretch it into a disarming smile but was clearly failing. "I told you a while ago I sensed you earlier," which wasn't a lie, "so I came here to warn you about the path." which was the lie. "I had to go around after trying a few times to go straight through- you can't blame me for trying to get us to stick together with how royally fucked up this place is right? Hehehe" he chuckled in his pseudo nervous laugh.

“I did lose my group, and I acknowledge that in this fucked up place, groups… might be necessary, but don’t fuck with me.” Skoll narrowed his eyes at the strange guy, who now looked confused by Skoll’s cautiousness. “I swear, if you lead me into the fight I avoided…” An unspoken threat lay hanging in the air between them. Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, he sighed, “Get on with telling me your name already and we can get moving again.”

Well aren't we all demandy, Gav rolled his eyes at the gesture but grinned at the implication of the request. "It's Gav, nice to meet ya" at least for now. "And hey, you won't regret this" Gav chuckled, you'll probably just hate me for it.

While the two bickered, Shihan sensed the tension. Gavril likely had not accounted for the scope of her perception, but it ultimately mattered not. The two settled their squabble and moved forward. Her beady eyes narrowed on the two as they exited the thicker foliage and entered the clearing. The young meister may have tried to lighten the air between them, but their body language was more than enough to communicate their distrust. Smart, if anything. There are few more swift deaths than those caused by misplaced trust.

”I see you can, at the least, follow simple instructions,” Shihan said aloud. Her raspy tone was filled with the same dull condescension as earlier. This mild success did not reprieve them from her constant scrutiny. Her eyes then focused more clearly onto Skoll. He was an unknown. Clearly a lost student capable of surviving the desert outside and likely traversing a great, miserable distance given how far the groups were apart. Unlike the others, she had no other real information on him.

”I don’t know who you are, boy, but let me be crystal clear. I am not here for you. Having this idiot pull you from that forest before the bugs ate you was a kindness. Ignore my kindness once and I’ll leave you like the Hoshi,” she said, gesturing her eyes down to the unconscious weapon. If animal instincts were sharp, it would be clear that there was absolutely no fault in her. Her words, her demeanor, her affect--she was not scared of them. Either of them. Yet, there were no displays of aggression. Her words were not like the barks of a wolf to startle its prey; she was warning them.

”I assume both of you answered to the same group of twats,” she said, changing her focus from just Skoll now back to both of them. ”I’ll be blunt. I work under Antivu and right this second, I can’t imagine even half of those idiots are even left conscious. What I mean to make clear... is that this diversion is not part of that stupid-ass program,” she explained. She then let silence permeate the air. In part to let the gravitas of the situation settle in with both of the boys. In part, also, to gauge their reactions.

[ COMMON KNOWLEDGE: UPDATE ]​

Much like the FBI has a 'most wanted' list, the DWMA has a similar list. Most of the members on it are corrupted humans--powerful, dangerous, perhaps even possessing a low-level madness wavelength. Few were volatile and powerful Outlaw Witches. Even fewer were Fae or Human. But, Antivu was an exception. Some considered him a domestic terrorist, some considered him a vigilante, but everyone that knew of him was sure of one thing: one of the most dangerous living beings on the planet. His exploits had earned him the status of 'run on sight'--even groups of three star duos were instructed not to engage and mages had it even worse as rumor was, magic could not affect him. In fact, rumors surrounding him were abundant. It was common knowledge that the higher one went up in rank, the harder it was to remain solo. Autonomous Weapons rarely reached three star for this reason. Antivu was dubbed the 'Most Wanted Weapon in the World'; to earn that kind of moniker despite this intrinsic disadvantage garnered a lot creative feedback and speculation, yet the DWMA never released official statements about him. What little formal information on him existed in tandem with his 'run on sight' and 'do not engage' orders; it was that the man was most dangerous when he donned his white armor. It was possible. It was likely either of the two had even seen this on Death City News as this white armor--which appeared more like a full-body white suit with long-tailed jacket--was how Antivu appeared when he was caught on camera.

The image of that suit rekindled in an instant. Gav recalled the memory, the picture in the papers as it displayed an image of a man, no larger than a dot, moving in a sequence as a clash of light and projectiles went in his direction. The explosions and offensive attacks were dodged by this white dot before he disappeared over the ledge and landed on the other side of a building before disappearing from view. The GIF repeated itself on the paper, a magically altered newspaper, a result of the ingenuity of licensed mages adding their skills in the media business. Gav recalled reading about that article, and then recalled watching the coverage about it right after reading it.

Antivu, the Indomitable Defense. Gav's stunned expression was hard to miss, the trickle of sweat that had been building up since he left to the return trip back now made his clothes stick to him in a uncomfortable sort of way, and the beads of sweat above his brow were more defined. He'd never seen Antivu in person, but he knew of him. Any fight that could take out one of the few Autonomous Weapons he paid attention to, the guy who had killed Edward Stein and, ended the life of The Huntress, was someone he didn't want to or hope to ever get into a fight with when no doubt the guy could floor him faster than Shihan could blink.

To put it bluntly, Skoll was pissed by this point. The scent of the woman now in front of them was clear; this was literally what he was trying to avoid. Kindness? To not get eaten by bugs? He wouldn’t be much of an elite if he couldn’t handle a few man-eating bugs! Not only did he get dragged over here, this wasn’t even part of the program! What in the hell was DWMA doing if they couldn’t prevent outside sources from interrupting? Glancing down at the downed man, Skoll might have recognized him, though he hadn’t paid much attention to others in the Asian branch that he attended. Clenched teeth made for a snarl as he eyed both the woman and Gav, itching to just up and walk away, but there was something in the tone of the white-haired elderly woman that stopped him from doing so.

Gav licked his suddenly dry lips and then asked with narrow eyes, "Why are you here? Why this place? Whatever you're here for I'm pretty sure your boss can spend his time doing better shit than fucking up our chance at getting back our respect. So what's his aim? And what do you get out of it?"

There was much to this situation that Skoll didn’t understand, and as much as he wanted to declare that if the woman wasn’t here for him he could just leave, he doubted it would be just that easy. His instincts screamed at him that this wasn’t a situation he should be getting involved in, but it seemed he had no choice, thanks to the liar who led him here.

Finally. The boy was serious. Perhaps she saw this look in him briefly during their Skirmish. A touch fear when the weapon was defeated so handedly reaffirmed when she repeated the feat--albeit against both of them. The second was clearly hesitant to even be present, but it was best nonetheless to keep him from wandering into Weaver or Surgeon, let alone Aegis. Wildcards like him needed reeled in.

”Respect? Why would you want to be respected by that pale imitation of a God?” she asked. This was the first time her voice shifted out of its monotonous nature to anything that wasn’t sheer, raw condescension. ”You may think that merely because he saves a few wretched souls that he deserves praise, but boy, I was around for the real Lord Death. Kidd rides on the coattails of a father he can’t hope to compare to.” she ranted on as if every word that flowed from her mouth was spit to the face of Lord Kidd himself.

”We are the Plague Doctors. My mission was to defuse the most dangerous of this group--you two. My secondary mission is recruit you if I so deem fit,” she explained, answering his questions despite clearly fighting the urge to continue ranting about Kidd. ”Our overall mission is to remove Kidd from power. Not to destroy the DWMA, as the news would suggest. The power of a Shinigami is great, but power alone should not dictate law. Perhaps he deserves a seat at the table, but he is not his father and he does not deserve the absolute authority he possesses. For every soul he’s saved, he’s damned ten more through poor decisions,” she added with that same spiteful tone, ”you just so happen to be the lucky side of that ratio.”

Gav laughed a bitter sound, a de facto group? This was just what he needed right now. "Then enlighten me, what makes you think Lord Kidd isn't worth the effort compared to his father. In case you haven't noticed, he hasn't roamed the earth for over 800 years, give or take some millenia. Of course you can't compare them, the experience gap is magnificently huge!" The statement made with an accusatory finger. "And," he emphasized with a scowl, "you don't know sh--

That was it. That was the moment of petulance she was waiting for. Her reaction wasted not a moment and held back not an ounce. She released her wavelength in an explosion of raw power, using her antivirus mutation to revert her age just as she did when they first met. As she gained height, her muscle gained mass, her skin toned, and her hair bloomed like a budding flower back into its pink hue, her wavelength poured out like a boundless sea--if only for a moment. It was intense. Not necessarily in volume or even power, but more so in how refined and rich it was. Every strand of her wavelength was charged with energy as if it were a vein of ore in an untouched mountain, every note that came from her soul was sung as if it had a full chorus behind it, even the scent of her wavelength was an indescribable overload to the senses. Skoll had cringed visibly the moment he caught wind of the wavelength’s scent reaching his nose.

Yet in and just a moment later, she had it under control and held within her effortlessly. Her soul was still and silent, quenched by her self control and tamed by her talent.

”You answered your own question, boy,” she said. Her tone shifted from the raspy variant of itself to now a more light, harmonic tone. Her condescension might have come across as flirtatious if not for how utterly terrifying she was. ”He lacks the experience. As do you. Shihan is a title. It is not my name. I am Hoshino Akari. I was the wielder of not one, but two Death Weapons. I brought honor to the Hoshino name, elevating it to the rival status to the Hoshi. I am she who trained Stein who trained Black☆Star who trained your master--boy. To defend Lord Death and claim he is ready to lead as his father was is no less than to claim you are my equal,” she explained, holding back no amount of her ferocious nature. She intended to shut down his argument with the same finality that she defeated the two with previously.

”I am going to repeat this and it would be in your best interest to listen very, very carefully. Perhaps Lord Kidd deserves a spot at the table, but he does not deserve absolute authority. Lord Death was not born into his position, he earned it. He brought together the Warlords, but more so, he brought together cultures from across the world to form the DWMA. You cannot expect his son to be able to manage that alone on hardly a tenth of the experience. And, if you think expanding the DWMA solved the issues, you’re an idiot I don’t have time for,” she said, reaffirming what she said earlier but with a specific emphasis on the notion of authority.

Skoll scoffed, “And what? What happens if Lord Death does get removed? Humans smother the other races? Fuck that! He didn’t murder us!” His mindset was that if this woman, who was… suddenly younger preferred Lord Death’s father, then where would that put himself? As far as Skoll knew, the past Lord Death was not so kind to the werewolves, going so far as murdering a whole tribe just to prove a fucking point so long ago, as was preached to him as he grew up.

Her face softened. Where one might think frustration would form, there was not. Instead, her face had a warmth to it. In moments like these, it would have been easy to consider her beautiful if not for having just seen her aged face moments ago. ”It seems at least one of you has a brain,” she said, ”to consider not only the possibility but the forward thinking for the outcomes.” She grinned, more impressed with the critical thinking Skoll had demonstrated more so than any of the combat skills either Gavril or Midori had prior.

”Conflict among races has always existed. The young tend to neglect history and efforts to de-escalate. In my whole life, one of the few universal constants is that we point fingers and assign blame. You could try to convince me Lord Death attempted to commit genocide and I would tell you that you’re forgetting those he gave asylum, the times he attempted to negotiate; Hell, even the times he held back his Warlords,” she explained, not quite getting into specific details. The more specific she became, the more likely it was to spark an actual argument.

”None of which matters. Peace among the races is like peace among the nations. Ideal, but not simple. You want equality? Why let a single soul act as leader over every other race? I said give him a spot at the table; there is no reach to disallow any race set at that same table. As with all systems of governance, creating the constitution by which it functions should be done by the people of which it is designed to represent. You want my alternative? Force the immature Shinigami to step down and allow the adults to dictate how the world--and their races--ought to be run. His voice should be no louder than the Fae or Humans, Werewolves or Mages,” she told them both, taking the point of controversy and making it a strength for their cause.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Gav | Gaea Glade​

When she used her wavelength to express her annoyance, his reflexive instinct was to remain silent and submissive, muscles tensing, heart rate elevating- genuine annoyance at her for the first time truly flickering. His ears rang and Gav had to cover them at the sound of her presence and in just the same amount of time as it arrived, it was gone.

He was really starting to hate this old lady. Her charms and looks in her youth aside, the manner she spoke to him reminded him so much of the Witches of the Witch Society. It sent him back to those first few months back as a Beta in DWMA when he'd been testing the waters to establish the sort of persona he felt would be the most successful. Back to when he was getting that wider experience with other species outside the ones he already had exposure to because of his family.

It reminded him of those early days in Mage training. Back when he'd been trying. Where he'd been easy picking for the bigger and stronger dogs.

Gav frowned as he stuck a finger into his ear and rubbed for a few seconds, all the while listening to Shihan. Hearing Skoll voice his opinion made him look at the guy with a look of neutrality. He had said 'Humans suppressed the other races', Gav would have wanted to say 'what the fuck are you on about?'

But he didn't get the chance. Shihan's barb at him and the following compliment to Skoll and immediate lecture turned Gav's attention back to her. The whole time he remained silent. After sne was done, he stared at the ground for a moment. Saying nothing.

"...you know what" he finally sighed, "I'll admit you are right that Lord Death hasn't done as great a job as he could. I never said he was perfect, you cut me off before I could finish," he stated hotly. Voice calming back down he continued,"You're right, he doesn't have all the experience. His father earned it. And yeah," he said looking at Skoll, "I'll be the first to say I have personal experience that DWMA has a sense of xenophobia that permeate the student population. And I don't much care for it. But you'll be hard pressed as shit if you think anyone from my generation is gonna sit down and just let you and your group easily push him out."

I also think you're full of shit, but since you can read my soul and are 100% going to ignore anything I say to challenge you- I guess I'll have to make sure I keep my emotions in check, won't I.

In truth, Gav saw the points she was making. But he also thought those points were biased, flawed. And he felt that way because she had shown him she was biased. The manner she spoke of the staff and even of himself and his training, all were signs that she didn't really respect the system or care for the training methods of whatever it was DWMA did. She already had a decision in mind. One he could tell was firmly fixed.

Then again, maybe he wasn't much to speak because he saw Kidd trying and he respected the man for it. He never knew his father but he knew the legends of him. Had studied him in school and outside it. The previous Lord Death had been a true god in every word, Kidd by comparison was still growing. Just like he was. And yeah, DWMA wasn't at its best he supposed, but that wasn't for him to say. He didn't have a look at any branch's current statistics or operations and he wasn't about to get into a debate with someone he knew wasn't going to change their mind and had decades, to a century of more knowledge on the machinations of the organization when he didn't. If they were wishy-washy, they wouldn't be here. They were here because they firmly believed in this cause, just like he believed that some of the races were starting to express their racial bias more and more.

He'd seen it with Tau. Tau had been his gateway to understanding Fae culture and before meeting her he'd long since learned the different races and their political differences of the olden days from his mother, before learning of the more recent political ties in school. He was no expert in politics or international relations, but Gav paid attention to it. It was important, and he kept his eyes on it just as much as he kept his eyes on training. Maybe he was biased, but he didn't buy Akira's argument about Kidd stepping down and letting all the other races come to the table for equal discussion. There was a reason Lord Death had kept every specie under his thumb and watchful eye for more than eight centuries. There was a reason he had been doubtful of Witches and humans forming a positive relationship. There was a reason he had stayed humanity's guardian, and the same reason applied to the current Lord Death who continued that mantle.

Kidd may have built the network of diversity that DWMA was and in turn invited social division on some level within the organization, but at the same time to Gavril, his actions would keep the other species in check. Allowing each race more freedom than the diplomats they already had coming to the table was inviting more trouble than he saw worth it. Kidd may be worth only the table to Akira Hoshino and her allies but to him- to Gavril and possibly even to Skoll's own point, he felt strongly that removing Kidd would create a butterfly effect that would do more harm than good.

There was a reason Kidd was still in charge. His own damn mother, even if she didn't always agree with DWMA saw the benefits in the treaty Lord Kidd had helped establish.

Tau's view of humans alone proved that to him more than once, he'd noticed it in how she spoke, that her kind didn't really perceive humans on par with them. Hell, he knew she labelled Meisters with that dumb cute nickname because he knew she didn't think they compared against true mages. He knew that somewhere deep down, his friend didn't entirely respect his occupation. A viewpoint of hers he had noticed had grown over the years as she changed.

He'd been among vampires back when he had had a boyfriend that joked about how delicious human blood might be, how "humans were the grand prize lambs waiting to be slaughtered", even though it was basically illegal for vampires to drink the blood of beings on the List of Forbidden Hemo-Donors unless a Offering of Contract had been made and notarized.

His sister and her demonic friends had haunted him in their pranks for months back when he had been trying to develop illusion training as a mage by showing him the different things that could be done with a manipulation of the senses. A lot of that had been done against him for fun, not even actual training purposes. Just a dumb prank they thought was funny.

His own brother, a man who taught upcoming mages, had more or less dismissed him after he had abandoned his training. To top it all off, there were mages that Gav noticed were human who held radically superior views on some level. And why wouldn't they? When 5% of the world was guarded by humans born with special abilities like him or Weapons, why wouldn't you think you were the best shit since grilled cheese if you could attain magical abilities and in some ways match a Meister-Weapon partnership in power.

His own personal experience in the Witch community in his youth had shown him personally how quickly trouble could brew if witches were given more freedom than what the Queen now allowed.

So yeah, he knew Shihan had a point. But also, fuck her point. Because in his eyes what she was suggesting was absolute horseshit and would just cause more trouble than good. If the views were this divided towards Lord Death, then shit would be worse. His dad worked in the bloody intelligence branch and he'd never ever heard any concerns of this sort at all. Then again his dad would have had no reason to tell him, but still.

Gav looked Akira Hoshino in the eyes and contrary to his own thoughts, he asked in a curious expression: "I'm sick and tired of being treated like gum under someone's shoe," which was the truth, "so give me a reason to join you. You want to remove Kidd from power, that's great- but what is in it for me. I'll only join if you tell me why you picked me and him" he nodded his head to Midori, "and what you intend to do with blonde since I pulled him into this. I'll join your squad and leave, but if I find out anyone in my group is killed- the deal is off ya old hot bitch."

Mentions: BriiAngelic

Interactions: Sir Les Paul Taigakitt

 

[Taigakitt]

Skoll Vargfang​

As the woman spoke more about Lord Death, his lip curled into a snarl. He decided not to push buttons. He remembered how that flash of wavelength felt like, and he very much didn’t want to feel or smell it again.

He fell quiet as she spoke about wanting to make things equal. There were issues with trying to topple a head honcho, Lord Kidd included. Even if things were to be pushed for more equality, Skoll just couldn’t see it being feasible. Terrible wars might break out, just because a human and a supernatural just may not ever see eye-to-eye.

His eyes flashed over to Gav, who decided to call him “blonde.” Either he already forgot his name, or he was trying to not give it out. Unsure of why, he thought he could see where Gav was going in the conversation.

This woman seemed to think they were selfless, a group they could use as pawns to further their own agenda with honeyed words about equality. He wasn’t so sure, even if a future of being equal at a table was their goal, as nice as it sounded. He also didn’t want to interrupt when Gav had asked what she was going to do with Skoll.

Mentions: The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul ​

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Shihan​

Akari Hoshino​

Species Human
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Confident, stern

​

The Regal Rper Taigakitt

Shihan listened to Gav and his rant. Typically, this type of outburst would be one she would shut down quickly or punish harshly, all things considered. This time, however, it was important to listen to his words. Wisdom was knowing when to let a fool speak, when to let the ignorant prove it, and when to let the passionate burn like a flame. Gavril consistently demonstrated he was a combination of all three. Beyond that, he demonstrated some level of intellect, a sense of self worth that would be both annoying and valuable, a drive that could be compared to few others, but maybe most of all, the type of selfish nature one could exploit.

Even at his age, Gav was but a child to her. This type of selfish nature was one that she could exploit easily, but so could others. In this moment, Gav failed in likely the greatest feasible way he could. Their leader wanted men that would get behind the ideals of their group, not those that sought it out because of the power they possessed. The second guy stayed silent. Shihan thought he either didn't care that much about this endeavor or perhaps was intelligent enough to follow the mantra, 'it is best to remain silent and let others believe you a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.' In either case, Shihan was finding little real potential between the two for her group.

And, she sighed. If she were her old self, this brief exhale would exude the stale, disappointed nature she truly possessed.

"My mission is simple: make sure you specifically do not interrupt the others," she said, completely ignoring his tirade. "You two were the only ones with the potential to be a problem. Our other friend there would likely get himself killed if he stumbled onto the others, so again: it is my kindness to keep him here until we are done," she explained. "We are not taking the Golem. He is trained in the Old Ways and perhaps training him would be easier than you, but Antivu is aware of his creator and leery of any tricks he may still have. Aside from that, there are too many variables with him. Golems, Werewolves, Fae--fact is, their bodies just aren't the same, and all our research is for humans," she told him, explaining her disinterest in the other two.

"Which leads me to this next point. Demon Weapons were first made to give humans power because outside of a few unique cases, they had none. Honestly, I almost vomited giving that speech about inclusion. Not because I have hatred, but because it's horse shit. For centuries, humanity was prey. Literally. Many of them followed Witches or Earth Shamans--maybe even a Fae--for protection. Few of them had priests that would pray for power and receive it, although rare. That was the way of the world for thousands of years. Then came the creation of Weapons and the first Meisters. Long before the DWMA was born. The sheep became the shepherds. Now I'm old, but I'm not old enough to have seen the founding of the DWMA. But, what I know is that power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Humanity needed reigned in just as much as it much as it needed protection and now we're all in this shitty mess of politics and morals. Fact is, everyone is a little evil, so no one deserves the throne," she told them in a rant that seemed to contradict a good portion of what she said earlier. It seemed this was more true to who she was, too. It seemed that condescension she had earlier started to seep into every word she said, even in her younger, more sultry form.

"And lastly... no. I won't give you a reason to join us. If you can be bought by promises of power, then you are of no real value to us. If anything, training you would be a waste," she told them, specifically focusing on Gav. She then looked over at Skoll before allowing her wavelength to spike up, although not tremendously. The intensity of her wavelength still managed to radiate through the air in a way that made it feel almost tangible, as if it could be touched with the bare hand. "There are things that I can do that even the mentor of your mentor never mastered because he sought power instead of perfection..." she said, as if disgusted by the very thought.

Then, in and instant, she was gone. There was no movement in her body. Their eyes, inhuman or not, could not perceive her. Their ability to perceive souls would never be enough at their current levels to catch her, either. It was stillness, then gone. In the very next moment, she stood in front of Skoll with her thumb holding back her middle finger in front of his chest. Then she released. And, what came next was unlike any technique or ability either of the two had ever seen. The force behind her flick was no greater than a regular girl doing so, no incredible feat of strength or absurd destructive power behind it. To his raw skin, it was but a tap.

But his soul. His soul would be shook. Her wavelength would be shot directly into his as if it were a cannonball being shot into the unclenched gut of a performer unready for his act. This was unlike any Soul Menace or Rejection the two had ever encountered. It was not merely a wavelength being weaponized, it was a wavelength that had the capacity to directly hurt a soul. And, hurt it did. The pain of a soul being struck like this was unlike anything that could be described. Pain was something the body felt in response to injury. The soul had not such a mechanism. Instead, a disruption of the soul was a disruption of life force itself. It was like a bolt of electricity shocking a house, short circuiting the appliances inside. It could cause the heart to stop briefly. Air to leave the lungs. A stomach to wretch and eject its contents. It could cause the brain to fritz like a broken television; if Skoll were not of strong soul and body, this tiny motion would have been enough to overload his brain and throw him into convulsions. At worst now, it would merely make him feel separate from his body for just a few moments.

While Skoll might be in shock from technique, for those watching like Gavril, it was plain to see that her skill was not due to her martial arts or the seemingly immense power she had. There was talent. Secrets. The only situations where a soul might be struck is with the Soul Resonance techniques typically used by Death Weapons and even that required two souls. At that point, too, the duos boasted raw, unadulterated power used to combat things like Witches and Kishin--or foes like Antivu. To see Shihan strike a soul seemingly effortlessly--to see the tip of her finger cause a reverberation in the wavelength of another without causing a discharge or rejection. This was something no mentor he ever had, not even a legend like Black☆Star, had ever brought up or demonstrated. It would be unclear to whom it would be more frightening: Skoll that experienced it or Gavril that watched it unfold.

"You aren't gum under anyone's shoe, kiddo," she told Gavril, watching the Weapon in front of him she just realized was a Werewolf once interacting with his soul. "Gum was useful once. You won't be useful 'til you find a cause bigger and better than yourself," she added, her eyes still on the werewolf, wondering how he would react to the strike at his soul. They wouldn't have a use for him anyway. Werewolves weren't compatible with the vaccine. At least, not yet.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

The Seed of Madness
collab between Sir Les Paul and Sybil , mentioned Arcanist ​

• An Evil Grin
• The Operating Room
• The Stitches Removed

• Her heart raced.
  
  Adrenaline coursed through her arteries.
  
  A curious, diabolical grin crept across her face.
  
  The Surgeon watched as the unhinged nature of the weapon in front of her pushed closer and closer to that of the Madness she was so desperate to see. She could see it in her soul now that it flared just like she saw the fear in the eyes of the other Meister. It was plain as day. She could almost taste it in the air. Not even for a moment did her eyes glance in the direction of Agnes.
  
  ”Oh, you dumb little whore… you think I care about your permission?” she said, pushing the situation that much further. ”You should count yourself lucky I would even dream of using this scalpel on you for something as… intimate as exploratory surgery,” she added, her words now dripping with a goaded fetishization.
  
  As the Surgeon filled the air with a rebuttal, it was evident that the chain whip had little but absolute volatile words to throw back as the two likely would never reach a peaceful state. The weapon was fuming, seething, and her one-track mind was made up.
  Destroy.. Shred and flatulate…
  
  “YOU?! I have seen more wannabe meisters try and wield me that had more potential than you! You are a deadbeat doctor, unusable! Your own profession doesn’t want you, why not just die?!” She couldn’t help herself from unleashing a punch with a hand transformed into the handle with the sharpened end, wanting to punctuate her point without hesitating as if this would validate her mindset for the Surgeon. As if her display of skill and violence could justify any of her whims as right.
  
  ”You certainly talk a lot…” the Surgeon commented. She had expected a girl with an obvious seed of madness to act much faster, but to see all of this bluster come out of her. Was it for attention? Was there a deep-rooted psychological need for affirmation? It was clear the girl was throwing petty insults; the Surgeon had hoped indulging in that impulse would push her over the edge, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet.
  
  ”Aren’t you the one that hurts your partners?” she asked, twisting the scalpel in her hand with a fine, dextrous motion. ”Do you do it intentionally? Is it easier to kill them than let them hurt you?” she asked with what seemed like a genuine curiosity. In all honesty, she knew her targets well; she knew the weapon had a history. She was playing to it.
  
  “Wrong Bitch! They are in my way! Especially the one who wielded me for way too long!” Adrasteia couldn’t help herself from responding, clearly her tongue was as loose as her fighting stance demanded her body be as she was firing off a reply every chance she got as she attempted to push the handle into the woman’s face. Her whole body was pushing it forward in a weird use of momentum, having wound herself up to effectively throw her fist rather than simply using the muscles to propel her punch. A tactic that was bizarre to watch as it meant her body was bent slightly back in a lean as she stood in her stance.
  
  Not yet. She wasn’t close enough yet. She wasn’t over the edge. The Surgeon saw the speed the weapon worked with and was still sure she had nothing to worry about beyond feeding this madness. The Surgeon shot her wavelength through her body and enhanced a simple, yet effective move: the sidestep. A single twisting motion to dodge the butt of the weapon handle into a spring backwards at blurring speeds kept the scalpel wielding girl out of harm’s reach.
  
  ”Oh, honey, don’t you just exhibit most the signs… P.R.A.I.S.E.M.E,” she said after landing a good seven to eight feet away. ”Provocative behavior, relationships you think mean something, attention seeking, influenced by others easily… it goes on and you tick every box,” she added, although not really explaining it was a mnemonic. ”I hoped you’d be so much more than just another whore with a personality disorder,” she told her followed by a pouting sigh.
  
  As Adrasteia’s eyesight caught up to the movement of the doctor the arm was being pulled back like a whip until it naturally hung at her side, the arms limp and swaying once more and the hand returning to a human hand. It was her body that showed the only modicum of restrain and relaxation, as her face was straining to the point her temples felt like they would explode from the pressure building.
  
  “OH? The doctor learned something in school and thinks she knows something? Sorry to tell you, but I ain’t that complex bitch. I want it, I take it, I just lived a life repressing that. Right now? I want to make you bleed for touching me with that DISGUSTING WAVELENGTH! I AM ABOVE YOU!” Without a doubt a blood vessel in her forehead was ready to burst from the multiple pulsing veins present, her howling in raw anger in defiance. As to if her defiance was denial or just pure innocent rage, there were truths to both camps.
  
  Was she being provocative and attention seeking consciously? Surprisingly no, not directly as she simply lived for her own whims. But was she seeking approval? She could only remember the constant disapproval of Samsen, her one wielder that held her the longest… was she an egotistical maniac all along under her old calm demeanor for all those years? Or was it a defense mechanism that arose from abuse?.... or was it both? If anyone knew, it would NOT be Adrasteia. Memories flooded back of the disapproval, the scoldings from officials of how she ruined her career when she had attacked Samsen and got herself landed in the program she now found herself in. Fuel to the fire, as without pondering them she used the raw emotions to keep her anger burning inside.
  
  “ ALSO STOP THIS RUNNING SHIT, YOU WANNA CUT INTO SOMETHING? LETS CUT YOUR PRIDE DOWN.” After that it’s not surprising she transformed her arm, leaning back and twisting before launching the chain whip arm with three blades at the current position of the doctor.
  
  Teeter-totter, teeter-totter, teeter-totter.
  
  The Surgeon could metaphorically see the wobbling legs of the weapon in front of her as she struggled with her stability. Every spike in her wavelength, every manic word, every twisted facial expression. There was an energy building up in the girl and the Surgeon just had to know what it was. Just a little closer. A little more prodding.
  
  A whip. Three blades. It made her annoying, too. Such a prehensile weapon on an unstable opponent was a hindrance. If she had time, she would have postulated that this girl likely wouldn’t have lasted long as a more static weapon, but time was limited. She had to double down on her current efforts to keep this charade going. Her wavelength burst out from her body even more aggressively, lighting the area up with the same type of intensity the group had become accustomed to when Gav empowered himself.
  
  Her wavelength changed quite drastically, too. The usual calm, restrained nature it had became more erratic. If it were a color, it would have shifted from a pale yellow to an intensely bright beam of sunlight. If it were a sound, it would have shifted from a slow melody to a brighter, faster harmony of choruses. If Agnes were watching closely, it was plain to see the shift in intensity was immense, but perhaps at the cost of control and precision as the edges of her energy were jagged and out of sync.
  
  The last moment. The absolute last moment. The Surgeon waited for the blades to be at her doorstep before she lunged up into a flip over them. She wasn’t retreating, no. Her entire demeanor changed as she displayed newfound bouts of agility and athleticism. That same speed she used to dodge the oncoming attack did not deteriorate as she darted towards Adra. Once she flipped over the chains, she then jumped straight down onto them, burying them into the earth with an overpowering amount of force before lunging forward. It was clear even Adrasteia, even in her rage, had not come to expect the quick attack that landed her chains in the soil preventing what she had planned on countering a dodge with.
  
  If her speeds were blurring earlier, now they could be described best as neon streaks through the air left by her bright hair. She ran parallel to the chains on the ground, leery of any movement they might have made in response, but she was sure her speed at this point was far greater than that of the weapon’s extended blades. Before reaching true melee range with the weapon, however, she leapt straight upward and over her in a roll, but only as a distraction. Her twisting motion mid air allowed her to hide the act of throwing her scalpel through her lab coat and she withheld imbuing it with her wavelength as to avoid it being perceived. Her goal was simple. Pierce the upper right shoulder of the weapon before she realized what hit her.
  
  A goal so simple it predicted… incorrectly by Adrasteia. She kept up sight wise on her opponent, but when it came time to transform and negate damage she assumed wrong as her head and neck turned into a limp loop of chain and the scalpel pierced down in the shoulder, plunging in and causing the weapon to tense in pain as they recoiled. She, however, was speeding up as well as she threw her other arm back transformed to slash the handle at the Surgeon. “BITCH!!”
  
  As her mistakes of missing continued and her anger was peaking, it was clear. She was reaching a breaking point, the seething anger losing its grip. The Surgeon continued to dance around her. Once the handle came flying at her, she adjusted herself mid-air to literally kick off of it utilizing her wavelength to make it a platform. The downside to this would be an intense feeling of rejection. The searing pain shot up her leg, but wasn’t enough to throw off her balance as she expected it. If anything, it prevented further damage from Adra. The weapon, however, likely had not considered this double-sided defense.
  
  The Surgeon landed then on her opposite foot behind Adra and twisted around, seeing the seething weapon in all her fury. Just a little more. She thought to herself, realizing how unstable this weapon was really becoming. She dialed back her wavelength as well, believing it would soon be time for her experiment to really begin. Her bright eyes narrowed onto Adra while her hand slid into her pocket to pull out another paper-covered scalpel.
  
  ”I don’t think you’re enough after all,” the Surgeon said aloud. Her voice returned to the more calm one she had displayed earlier in the fight. ”I hoped you were special, but it seems you’re just another slutty weapon throwing a tantrum,” she explained. ”Your partners probably realized the same thing.. You’d never be enough,” she said coldly. Plainly. As if it were a matter of fact written in stone by God himself.
  
  “YOU....” She turned slowly, her eyes wide and trembling in her skull, her breathing and heart rate clocking out as her body was under the acute distress of exertion and injury. The wound itself, her shoulder, continued to bleed with the scalpel still dug into it. The pain was a noxious fume in her head, not unlike her poison. She just wanted one thing, and yet the world seemed to deny her. So she did what anything living did when it was pushed into their corner.
  
  “...BITCH!!!” She lunged herself at rapid speed, her mouth opening wide as she did probably one of the most feral things she has done since being released from the mental ward. She was trying to bite off a chunk of the surgeon’s face with her sharp teeth, and if it wasn’t for her speed it would be an entirely pitiful display.
  
  This was close enough. The Surgeon could see the instability within the soul of the young weapon. She could see the erratic frequency, the crazy spikes, the haphazard edges. The weapon was obviously in a manic state and while continued stimuli might perhaps push it further, there was no need. This deranged little whip would be plenty to study in such a short period of time.
  
  She wasn’t sure if the weapon was becoming faster as that seed of madness began to sprout of if simply was more focused--if adrenaline from the pain in her shoulder coursed through her veins and gave her just that extra boost. It didn’t matter, it only mattered that the weapon was faster than before. Not enough to be a problem, but a notable difference nonetheless. Luckily, she hadn’t transformed and if she intended to, it was likely after contact was made. The Surgeon… no. Hawks had no intention of letting her get to that point.
  
  Hawkes embraced the true power of her wavelength and let it course through her. Not the increases in speed or power she displayed a moment ago. That was trivial. Merely the amplification of a high-level Meister. No. She was tapping into her own unique power. Her normally pale-yellow wavelength became more still, more controlled, and shifted in color to a more lively, golden hue. It was as if it had the intensity from before, but in a new, calm form.
  
  Hawkes was serious now. No more dull demeanor or crazed theatrics. She was focused with a razor-sharp precision matched only by her scalpels, except she didn’t need them now. Instead, while Adrastreia launched forward with her nigh-feral ferocity, Hawkes lunged forward in a single, fell swoop to accomplish one thing: grasp the throat of the girl. And, that she did. It turns out, attempting to use one’s teeth as a weapon of engagement was an incredibly poor tactical decision.
  
  Her intent was not to choke out the girl. No. She only needed one thing: physical contact. The moment the skin of her skilled hands wrapped around the soft flesh of the girls throat, their wavelengths touched again. This time, however, it was not a brief, flirtatious graze, but more an all-consuming embrace. Hawkes used her wavelength to push into that of Adra and impregnate her very soul with her wavelength. In that moment, the two were no longer on a battlefield with Agnes or in an Oasis on Dall Island. They were inside a shared space created by the connection between their souls. This was a Soul Space all their own. A place typically reserved for the intimacy of close partners. A place that should be impossible to just create without causing intense and painful rejection. Yet, here they were… and Adrasteia was beyond the simple flow of discord her soul normally felt, which was all the more impressive.
• Infinite blackness surrounded them in this new plane of existence. Their consciousness separated from their bodies, time frozen in the corporeal world. All that existed in this new place was a cold, damp floor with what felt like chilled water around their ankles, yet without the resistance or the wet texture of a fluid floor. The two could see each other plain as day, yet there was no source of light and the contrast of the echoing darkness that stretched outward.
  
  ”You never had control, darling…” the Surgeon told her, standing a solid ten meters away from her in their Soul Space, ”now be a doll and show me that Madness.”
  
  Adrasteia, despite what had been normal up to this point, was completely quite. She couldn’t. It was impossible. She was beyond it, as she had finally hit her limit. What mattered at this point? She was exposed at her soul, beaten, and now laid bare. What was this for? A shred of sanity? The thing that the Academy set as a norm? That the Ward had tried to imprint back into her?
  
  “.... what….” She finally spoke, the sound almost seemingly causing a red gash to appear across her own chest and neck. The sounds of her soul broke a string in their weird harmony, and the black and purple twisting soul began to glow a shift of noxious green inside. “....is even the point of what you want?”
  
  One by one the chords of her symphony began to snap, the remaining strings of her orchestra shrieking as they began to strain and break. The soul itself began to contort, no longer remaining spherical but instead spiraling into a hemisphere sprouting now a maw on a pseudopod which seemed to burst forth from the inner parts of the soul. The parasitical madness had found nourishment after such detrimental breaks back to back. It was like a Venus flytrap, seething and yet smiling with razor sharp teeth. As much as she had entered, it was only more obvious that such forceful entry should be nearly impossible for anyone. The soul projection of Adrasteia couldn’t prevent her head from pounding, the knee jerk reaction being to hold it as she curled up. It was true, in a sense, trembling of her brain.
  
  Her body just looked upward from the previous kneeling fetal position, her head looking up to reveal her relaxed and almost euphoric face. Her eyes seemed to focus on nothing in the black empty sky, a squint forming softly as if she had seen something pleasant and wanted to make it out better. Her face, still with a little foam of her rage, now was relaxed. It wasn’t until the smile began to creep onto her face did her eyes share the sentiment with a crescent arch open, the madness sprouting. Her mood swings, while always volatile, had swung back harder than ever before as she began to giggle.
  
  Her thoughts would spill from her mind, the soul space flooded with the words.
  
  Why? Why do you even matter Miss Doc? What is this? You think you won? Now that’s funny. That’s rich! You have accomplished nothing, just made me stop thinking inside that damn box. This is rich! This is better, much better! I should thank you, your blundering and blubbering make me feel AWAKE!
  
  Her grin now stretched too far, her face stretching to accommodate the new expression. The wicked grin and euphoric expression of bliss wrapped in manic eyes.
  
  “So, tell me, did you think you could tease and touch me? You have no tact~, such shame~”
  
  Hawkes watched the girl intently. Listened to every word that seeped from her lips. Inside these confined spaces, even their thoughts echoed through the emptiness, reverberating faint traces of meaning and depth in the otherwise boundless darkness. She could tell now with absolute certainty that there existed almost a third entity within the sprawling space. Herself, the unstable and broken Adrasteia, and the madness that existed within her.
  
  A parasite had its own heart. It’s own life. Even a tapeworm was alive inside the bowels of that which it drew nourishment. This Madness was the same. Alive on its own inside the mind of this girl. Alive and struggling for control. At the DWMA, Hawkes never allowed to interact Madness this intimately--this closely. When needed, she silenced it. But now, she wanted to hear every word it said.
  
  Hawkes lifted her hands, outstretched and open. ”I don’t want the girl,” she said before slamming her hands closed. From them shot out beams of golden light. The new illumination shot through the space almost immediately, bringing color to the cool water beneath the two. In that flash, figures of the darkness arose from the depths. Behind the weapon shot straight up a padded stretcher and from it, prehensile, leather restraints. Animated of their own will much like Adrasteia and her chains, these restraints attempted to wrap around her at blinding speeds and behind her to the stretcher behind her. As they came Adrasteia did nothing to resist, her body whipping back with the flow of restraints until she was held down, the weapon’s face holding the grin that tore her upper face from her chin filled with her sharp teeth.
  
  ”I want the sickness within her… so stop hiding,” she added. The light from her hands continued to fill the entire room until the inky blackness began to fade away, revealing a smaller, confined room surrounded by pristine, white walls, various tables full of surgical equipment, reflective stainless steel, perfectly grouted tiles, and even the humming of fluorescent lights. This was the manifestation of her wavelength.
  
  As the Demon Weapon remained on the table, the one notable thing in the room that was out of place was the manifestation of the madness given form of the blackened tar-like Venus fly trap grinning. It was still sprouted from the girl bound at the table like a new limb, yet it never moved even as the body did as the pseudopod stretched and accommodated. It indeed has its own presence, and it just grinned like Adrasteia.
  
  “Something wrong doctor? Don’t like the package deal?” The madness and the Weapon spoke as one, indescribably two distinct voices yet blended like one. There was no mistaking the seed, but it was a seed. It was her seed. Her Madness. The Venus flytrap glowed green and purple, the grinning mouth leaking frothy purple ooze and mists, the essence of which was toxicity of the mind made into a material as it sizzled and bubbled on the clean floors turning them cracked where it landed. Despite the clear subjugation, combined with the exertion Adrasteia already endured, her strength was only increasing the longer the madness was exposed. A power which seemed to have a will not unlike the Weapon’s own.
  
  ”Nurses, sedate her,” the Surgeon said aloud. As she did, shadows with warped, faceless heads adorned in light blue scrubs manifested from the corners of the room. One opened a pristine, stainless steel cabinet and pulled out a similarly metallic drawer before sliding its androgynonous hand into its pocket to pull out a small, silver key. It inserted the key into the locked drawer to pull out an accordion of marked cards full of pills. Meanwhile, second one donned gloves one at a time before opening a paper and plastic foil marked ‘22 gauge’ before drawing it back to an indent marked 5ml.
  
  ”A nurse’s dose, please,” she said, correcting the second nurse. In response, the faceless apparition drew the syringe back a little further, just hitting the 7ml mark. The other brought over a vial from the locked cabinet and set it down for the first nurse. ”And prepare the Lorazepam,” the Surgeon added. While the first shadow locked and closed that drawer to go to a refrigerator unit in the corner, the second shadow pressed the needle into the vial, flipped it upside down, injected the air from the vial, then drew back the needle into the fluid to refill it with a clear liquid of an equal amount.
  
  “So clean too clean. Is this what you like doctor? It’s so… boring.”
  
  ”Nothing is wrong,” the Surgeon said, finally responding to the manifestation in the form of a living plant. ”I just want to see if you can function without her,” she added, now grinning. ”I don’t really care about that sack of flesh… this is about you,” she finally said, staring down the plant as a predator would its prey. Meanwhile, the nurse with the full syringe inserted it into Adra’s upper shoulder, squarely into the bulk of her muscle before injecting the sedative in a single, swift push.
  
  Adrasteia didn’t even flinch, the needle finding no resistance as she simply laid down and took it. Her eyes were too busy focusing on random points, her brain preoccupied with more important things like the weird space she found herself in. A queer place, she thought, one without much imagination. One with a locked idea on what was reality. How boring…
  
  ”Don’t you know, this has all been for you…” she said, trailing off in a tone that could only be described as obsessive to the flytrap strapped to the table.
  
  Adrasteia couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as the delirium of the suppressant disguised as a needle of sedative, the effect rather mundane in her experience… and surprisingly finding little foothold in her space. Effective, but like giving a painkiller addict a ibuprofen it seemed to not have it’s intended overkill. But it was enough, enough to put her temporarily out of the picture as much as the doctor wanted. The flytrap, however, simply strained and spewed the noxious fumes and thick liquid. It was free, or to be exact it was freeing itself more and more as time passed in this stasis. Soon enough the restraints would groan from strain, the new limb swelling in strength.
  
  The madness wanted out, and as the restraints snapped and it began to bite through the shadow nurse beside it. As it bit through the nurse, it passed through the shade like vapor and reformed as if smoke clinging to what little form it had. The nurse beside the fridge meanwhile repeated the same process as earlier. Unlocking the fridge, pulling out a smaller, clear vial, filling a syringe up to the 2ml line.
  
  This time, however, the Surgeon stopped the shadow, voicing, “bring it here,” redirecting it to her to hand over the needle instead of taking it to the other nurse. Before taking the needle, the Surgeon held out her hands exerted her wavelength, coating them in pale golden gloves. Once she took the needle, she began imbuing it with her wavelength, too.
  
  She held this syringe in one hand before clenching the other. ”Let’s have the real fun begin,” she said, watching the manifestations of her wavelength take form. Dozens of golden hemostats shimmered into existence around the base of the plant, each one clamping down on it in a different place. Its leaves, its stems, every newly formed sprout that came from its budding body locked in place--all except the mouth of the flytrap.
  
  She then handed the syringe back to the nurse, the clear fluid now a gold. The same golden light manifested in front of her, taking the form of a scalpel made of the same material before she grasped it in her hand. ”I’m not sure how to anesthetize a plant, so this may be quite painful,” she said as she and the nurse neared the flytrap.
  
  Adrasteia simply stayed still with her eyes following what stimulus it could find, her grin wide like a child awaiting a treat while the manifestation of madness within her began to writhe in the potent restraints. If it wasn’t for this strange appropriate counter of a power the madness would spread, as every few seconds the wriggling mess would sprout a small limb and begin to blossom a small mouth upon it somewhere on the pseudopod of the original.
  
  ”You see, I like to think Madness is a disease,” the Surgeon told her. She gently placed the edge of her scalpel along the new sprout. Its golden edge was not just the cold steel of a blade, it was nearly toxic to the madness. Akin to pressing acid into flesh; the moment it came into contact, going further only caused pain.
  
  ”Some diseases, they have cures... some don’t, maybe never will,” she said, pressing the edge of her blade into the stem of the plant. ”Sometimes, we can only treat the disease or maybe mask its symptoms,” she continued on as the scalpel dug deeper into the flesh of the bud. ”Sometimes, treatments get better and better over time even if we can’t find a cure,” she explained. Then held still for just a moment.
  
  ”But, we’ll never know if we don’t experiment a little,” she said before allowing a satisfied grin to escape her face. Right after, she drew the scalpel down the length of the plant, cutting right through the sprout that was growing to remove it.
  
  And yet, despite this clear act of cruelty, the sprout and main ‘plant’ seemed relatively unaware of their fate. They seemed to be aware enough they snapped and bit seemingly at random, but they showed no signs of stopping until something was completely severed in which it would shrivel and turn to the sludge which would eat through the surfaces it touched. Adrasteia and this madness seemed to exhibit a severe lack of bodily awareness, but then again Adrasteia lacked the care at the moment for even her present.
  
  This continued on. These slow, careful, methodical cuts. The Surgeon attempted various little experiments as time passed as well. She tried catching and sustaining the buds that she excised, but to no avail. These seeds--Madness itself--seemed unable to live without a host. This Madness, too, was still extremely immature. Like a stem cell, it was versatile and fluid, it could still turn into anything. Unlike the more advanced Madnesses encountered or studied up to this point, it didn’t seem to exhibit any specific traits. The information she gathered in what felt like hours of excruciating surgery between Adrasteia and the plant sprouting from her garnered more questions than answers for the doctor. Removing it proved impossible, too. The plant itself seemed tied directly to her life force at its core. The Surgeon could do many things, but surgery on a soul was outside of her skillset.
  
  The world shimmered briefly. Like an old satellite dish losing signal from an overhead plane. It was but a moment, but the Surgeon knew what it meant. One of their souls, likely Adrasteia’s, was at its limit for endurance. Maintaining this Soul Space for much longer would be impossible.
  
  ”It seems our little experiment must come to an end,” she said, looking over Adrasteia and her restrained body, this time with four nurses surrounding her instead of two--necessary for some of the more complex procedures previously performed. ”I’ll do you a favor for having done one for me… a little quid pro quo,” she said in a mockingly sultry tone.
  
  Two of the shadow nurses brought forth more syringes. It was impossible to tell just what they were injecting her with at this point. Different medications seemed to come from different places, either the lock box or a refrigerated unit. Each would have different impacts as well. Some made pain go away, some numbed the mind, some might even take the mind to a different level of reality from a high incomparable to any pill popped in a mortal form. In this case, the needles injected into Adrasteia through her thighs had a single purpose: to keep her calm through this next and final procedure.
  
  The Surgeon removed her glove. Not the first time; she had swapped into new gloves periodically through the surgeries. This time, however, her hand itself glowed with a golden ball more intense than any of the golden scalpels, hemostats, or other useful implements already in use. The intensity of this ball alone was enough to cause the flytrap to recoil instinctively. It was but a few more minutes until the intramuscular injections worked their way into the girl’s system--even in this prison of their mind, certain rules had to be followed. Once they did, the Surgeon lifted her hand and directed the light directly at the plant.
  
  It was like salt to slugs. It was the bane of Madness itself. In some places, the plant would wither and die. Extra mouths, limbs, vines, leaves--they all were victims to the harsh rays of the Surgeon’s wavelength. The mouth of the flytrap closed and withered as the entire thing began to shrink back, recoiling into its roots in the chest of Adrasteia. It was intense. It was painful. That was the point. The purpose of the IM’s to keep her stable while the Surgeon completed this task.
  
  It was impossible to kill the Madness. It was an unfortunate truth. But a young, weak Madness such as this that had just barely taken root… the Surgeon had plenty of power. The very core of the plant, the bedrock of its roots, were implanted deeply into Adrasteia’s chest. At this point, the roots were dormant, like those of annual flowers waiting through the winter. This still was not good enough, not for the Surgeon. The bright light of her wavelength concentrated further into what could best be described as a miniature sun on the tip of her finger. She used it to draw into the flesh of Adrasteia, creating sutures of gold that made its way around the rooted core of her Madness manifested in her chest. Each of the offshoots of the roots wrapped in golden thread, each anchored down into her chest before she completed the stitch, closing the seal. And, a seal it was. After it closed, two more layers of the golden suturing formed around it, creating an ovular seal along the sternum.
  
  The Surgeon stepped back from Adrasteia and the world itself started to dissolve. The shadows dispersed like a thin fog and slowly but surely the world of stainless steel, glops of dissolved, toxic plant life, and used medical equipment faded from reality. Soon enough, even the restraints that held Adrasteia back and the medication that was coursing through her veins began to disappear, although its effects somewhat lingered.
  
  ”It would take a great deal of force to undo that seal--from the inside or out. You shouldn’t hear its voice. You shouldn’t feel its influence,” the Surgeon told her, knowing she should be conscious at this point, albeit a little groggy. ”I imagine your mind is quiet for the first time in years,” she added.
  
  The girl, after stillness and cooperation which seemed to last years yet milliseconds, simple rose as if lifting herself from the now dissolving table as if it was a simple awakening. Her body did some stretching in their mental palace falling to ruin, turning to the surgeon with a soft smile. “Quiet? Well, that is subjective…. but yes. It is. And shall I thank you? Like some kind of favor? I think you misunderstand me, not that it matters to either of us.
  
  As she spoke the white walls blackened, the stability of their bond showing how weak it was. As a tray table’s legs dissolved and crashed into the muck of black, the weapon raised an arm. “I will however thank you for one small thing, for being exactly what I thought you were. My doubts are now settled. Your breed… are not deserving of what you claim.”
  
  Sanity… was a choice. One many embraced when torn down and burned by their trauma or seeds of madness. It was comforting to have that clarity, so to reject it was simply never in mind when people were desperate for that clarity.
  
  Which made it all the more disturbing when the weapon plunged her own arm straight into her chest, grimacing as she began to bleed from the injury she gave herself. Adrasteia was no surgeon, and thus as she gripped the very sutures they now held her soul in a tight embrace of warm light she began to tear them out with a clenched fist from her chest. The pain only focused her eyes as she stood in the ruined room, throwing the dissolving sutures. This was not madness that rejected the Surgeon, but the very sanity the Surgeon freed chose to reject the additional surgery.
  
  With that the room would begin to crumble, this stress upon the soul taking its toll as this forced entry overstayed their welcome.
  “I will never fall to your kind again. You or any of the many who tried and did what you have done to me. Meisters and Doctors who couldn’t make it as meisters. Don’t underestimate us weapons.”
  
  
  The Surgeon watched her, listened to her really. Her behavior was not entirely unexpected. It was clear, at least to Hawkes, that the girl in front of her craved control. She thought it to be freedom, but that was a delusion. She thought she made a choice here, but she didn’t. She was clinging to the thought of control. It was all about control. Control… and consequences. This weapon did not consider the consequences of her actions and Hawkes went as far as to postulate she refused responsibility for them.
  
  There was a Madness inside her, true. Even without that Madness, however, the girl in front of her was not stable. She was a danger to herself and everyone around her and it was plain to see that she didn’t care. She wouldn’t let social convention or consideration for the safety of others control her.
  
  ”You’re not just crazy, girl. You’re fucking stupid,” the Surgeon said as the world dissolved around them. There was a clear amount of disgust in her voice. This type of ignorance was likely some of the worst.
  
  Those were the last words uttered in that Soul Space. In the next moment, the two returned to the real world. The Surgeon with her hand around the throat of the weapon. Adrasteia, however, was in different shape. Maintaining a Soul Space like that for so long was an exhausting endeavor and in combination with the experiments done on her, it would drain her body and soul both to the point of being on fumes. Not the type of exhaustion even her worst mania could push through, either. No, this was what one would call the point of failure.
• The Surgeon was aware of exactly where they would return to. She took this opportunity to pivot on her hips to thrust her foot into the chest of Adrasteia, kicking her full force after letting go of her throat to send her flying back. It was back to the real world and her fun was unfortunately over.
  
  Adrasteia didn’t resist, as the bludgeoning force pushed into her chest was a worthy sacrifice to her endurance if it meant she could create distance. Out of everyone she had dealt with, the Surgeon was the more potent wavelength healers she had dealt with and risking a second incursion was not on her list. She went and collided with a tree, hitting it with a tense body as she was coming back from the harrowing experience of another raid. Another unwanted touch.
  
  But she knew one thing. She tasted a hint of victory, her defiance proving one thing. The stronger she got, the less other’s whims could control her. A fact, and one she could live by as a goal. Even if it meant making sacrifices along the way. The pain would be worth it, if it meant she could achieve her goal. She tore herself from her seated position at the base of the tree, standing up and unbuttoning her lower part of her shirt as she began to feel the signs of early exhaustion course through her system. Not a new sensation, but one which she knew were something to watch out for.
  
  “... hey…. Meister…. you tired of these tests yet?” Adrasteia turned her head to Agnes, the anger nowhere near the levels that for her were mere seconds ago. Instead Adrasteia was focused, the weapon’s eyes demanding an answer from Agnes and expressing her own frustration with this system they were tested in. “Because I have about had it…. and I’m ready to just tear this bitch down… you in?”
  
  "I'd reconsider that if I were you," the Surgeon said aloud, equally calm and just as condescending. "And this idiot just broke the seal on her own Madness," she explained. "Madness, you see, is like a disease. Even if you could partner with her, it would be like spreading your legs for a mongrel with Herpes. You risk a life-long infection for a temporary good time," she said, this time intentionally insulting the weapon that just rejected her treatment.