Fandom &nbsp; Madness: Plague

Elenion Aura · Oct 7, 2020

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Schism

Gaea Glade – Oasis: Serafim's head swam as the revelations washed over him. One after another. Relentless. Antivu. That name meant something to him. Danger. Enemy. The monster under the bed. Something to be feared. So the mere thought of Ismene in his presenc - let alone of her talking with him, befriending him - was almost too much to bear. And yet, here she was. Unharmed. No. More than that. She was restored. And if this was all to be believed, he owed these Plague Doctors and their enigmatic leader a debt of gratitude. They'd saved the thing he held most dear in the world, the thing his reckless power had almost destroyed.

☽☾

Ismene placed a hand on Serafim's shoulder. Her brother. Her protector. "He speaks truth, Ser." She cooed, calm, soothing. Like water. Like the rains on the mountain. Gentle like a mother. "I can't wait for you to meet him. He's exactly who we've been looking for." She gave him a knowing look. He would understand her meaning. He was the only one who could.

☽☾

Serafim knew what she meant. Swallowing hard, he turned to The Aegis. Something in him had changed. He was collected as he had been, his face a mask. But unlike before, the subtle lines of his uncertainty were gone, washed smooth by the currents. They were pulling him onward, and he had merely stopped resisting their flow. He would let the river carry him where it willed.

"I will go with you. To meet this man." He could feel Ismene relax beside him. Even this small acquiescence felt like betrayal... But was it?

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Sir Les Paul · Oct 8, 2020

The Aegis

Thorn

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

Location Oasis Lakefront on Gaea Glade
Mission Return with Serafim & Ismene
Status Calm, collected

Elenion Aura

"Then so you shall," Aegis replied to him. He offered a nod to Serafim. It was a simple act of confirmation, yet still different than the atmosphere of the DWMA. This was not to grant permission or a nod in the 'right' direction. It was acknowledgement of his stance. It was value to his words.

Aegis then pulled out what appeared to be some type of pager if that was still a recognizable device. If not, it merely appeared to be a vastly more simple device akin to their Blips. On it was a series of lights, only recognizable because of a blue one that was already dimly illuminated. Aegis pressed down on the singular button on his and after a brief delay, it glowed in green. In that moment, a thought occurred to Aegis. One that he had not been informed of, but one that nonetheless he felt was important. "Do you have any devices or trackers from the DWMA? If so, you should leave it here--or better, destroy it," he said, looking over at Sera directly as he did. His words even sounded different than the typical barks and commands of the DWMA. There was no force or coercion behind them; it was as if despite the importance of the matter, Sera could refuse if he so wished.

"From here, we need to reach the heart of the Oasis. Weaver is there with Ismene's next dose of medication, then we can leave the island," he explained. He nodded over Eastward to indicate the direction they needed to go, still necessary to circle the Lake, but not much. Ismene was quick to nod back, but stuck close to her brother. As friendly as she was with Aegis and the others, the company of Serafim was still second to none for her.

As the three made their trek around the lake and through the dense foliage with odd hairs of spider silk sprouting from branches in greater and greater volumes, Aegis decided to chat about the island. Dall Island was apparently a very dangerous ecosystem. It grew and shrank with the seasons of the year to double and triple its size and many creatures evolve to suit this. Additionally, the entire area was apparently in a dangerous zone of the ocean near Ley lines--naturally occurring veins or raw mana. It created the storms that literally rained magic. The Oasis they were in was both a magical nexus and a natural area. Magic attracted magic and the water from the entire island drained here naturally, creating the Oasis. It was all interesting enough until Aegis got into the fact that some type of plant parasitic fungus had taken over the trees and created a giant network through the Oasis. He went on in details about how the same thing happened in Oregon, too, but this is where Ismene stepped in. Politely, but firmly, she simply asked Aegis to stop talking. Facts were facts, sure, but at a point they become dull and perhaps just some time to silently walk as siblings was more valuable.

He seemed like a nice guy--a lot nicer than Gav or Midori, at least--but he talked just as much.

Aegis shrugged off her request and simply went ahead a little further, telling them to follow his exact path. This kept him a little further out of earshot if they wanted to talk, but remaining on the path was important to avoid Weaver's traps. Whatever the two wanted to discuss before this potentially life-changing event was their secret. But, it would likely be their last private discussion before arriving at the massive fungus-hybrid tree that Aegis tried to tell them about earlier. It was an impressive fifty feet tall if not higher and while it had the shape of a tree, it had no real leaves or foliage, instead surrounded by thick gills like mushrooms had. It was impossible to tell the exact color scheme or the layers to the tree as it was completely covered in beautiful silk that stretched out into the jungle indefinitely. It seemed to be the source of the silk they saw as they walked as well. Aegis was there at the base waiting for both of them patiently. It perhaps made more sense as to why he rambled on about this; it was, on some level, an incredibly unique structure to naturally occur without human intervention.

Arcanist · Oct 8, 2020

Agnes Fairhair

Mentions: - | Interactions: Adra (

Sybil ), Hawkes (

Sir Les Paul )

Agnes had never believed getting onto her feet with a leg that couldn’t bend would be such a problem. She saw herself as one of those blasted Barbie dolls she had, where the leg pointed poker straight. Damn that woman, cutting off one of the most vital parts needed through her form of combat, in the middle of a fucking desert. Needless to say, she could relate to that volatile weapon, if only a little.

So, rather than be the bigger woman in the situation, tell the weapon to back down and think about what she was doing, she simply stepped back, let her scream back at the Surgeon. It was clear she had been goading the chain-whip, and anyone in their right minds would have seen it. Though, perhaps not in the moment. No one was ever clear-minded in the moment, Adrasteia less so, and Agnes, from her own personal exploits, unfortunately never saw the consequences until they had flown past her very eyes.

Once again, Agnes, as much as part of her insisted she needed to stop this, she let Adrasteia fling those chains of hers wildly to her own Madness’s contempt. She was far past the stage of redemption now, too far gone perhaps to even be cured of such a terrible affliction. What good would a level-headed Meister, one that Adrasteia had placed on the same platform of contempt as this Surgeon, really do for her? But the fight had Agnes cringing behind her hand. The way Adrasteia twisted herself in pathetic and desperate attempts to land hits, the improper ways of punching. Again, not more she could do. Those riddled with Madness would never listen to reason nor advice. Agnes’s interference would only get in her way of blind revenge for the Surgeon’s cruel analysis.

The insults exchanged between them continued for some time. A pain to listen to. More goading and prodding at a beast that was already exhibiting symptoms of rabidness. Agnes would have been quicker. If she was so desperate to cut into Adrasteia, she would have done it already, especially if she had the apparent skill and precision this Surgeon claimed to possess. That was probably half of Agnes’s problem; she liked to wrap things up too quickly. Sure, plan ahead, but the plan had to be flexible, and when things don’t go to plan, the long-game wasn’t always a viable option.

The battle seemed to finally take a turn, an indescribable wavelength coursing through the Surgeon’s body and bursting out from her in beams of almost heavenly light. Agnes had shielded her eyes from it, though risked irritation out of curiosity. She didn’t need to just see how the intensity shifted erratically, but she could almost feel the change in the atmosphere too. The Fairhair had believed it was maybe an act of desperation from the Surgeon, though, the way she had bided her time, before she practically disarmed Adrasteia by burying those blades of hers into the sand proved otherwise.

Things never got better on the side of Adrasteia, and the more Agnes cringed at this fight, the more she realised this was a fight she wasn’t going to win. She was too unhinged, not even holding onto sanity by a finger at this point. The rabidness in Adrasteia only solidified itself to Agnes when she saw her teeth bared, running at the Surgeon like the feral beast she was.

Javla fan. Why was she ever let her back into the DWMA with that hiding in her?

The air grew intense around them again. That woman’s wavelength - it was her wavelength, right? - reached a remarkable new level, and what she hadn’t expected was her reaching out, and grabbing Adrasteia by the throat. It had the same picture to Agnes of someone grabbing a chicken, and about to wring its feather little neck. She watched her uncle do that once, an odd picture to recount now in this situation. Nonetheless, it was disturbing, and Agnes wasn’t sure if she could stand by and watch his go on for much longer. With a grunt of effort, she started dragging her leg, her brain commanding it to bend but her body seemed to lock her out of doing so entirely, as she made her way towards the Surgeon and Adrasteia. She was convinced she would be too late to stop some God-awful thing happening, and what position would that put her in? Responsible for grievous harm done to another student, only now with death thrown in on top of it? Skitsnack.

Though, the further she got to them, Agnes slowed, realising something wasn’t right. The two weren’t moving at all.

“Hey!” Agnes shouted at them, the first she had thought to open her mouth through this entire shitshow. No response. Not even a flinch. As she approached and stopped before them, it was as if the two were caught in a single still frame of a film. Both in their own little world, and locking her firmly out of it. She had considered reaching out her hand, touching them...but she thought better of doing that.

Agnes couldn’t help but draw another trail in the sand away from them before she haphazardly made her way to the ground again. Sighing, she landed on her back, sand bouncing up around her, specks of it landing on her cheek. She squinted up at what she thought had to be a sea of blue above her with the harsh light of the desert day striking her vision. Alone with her thoughts once again. As she felt her sweat mingle with the sand on her cheeks, she couldn’t help but bitterly laugh at how she hadn’t packed suncream for this programme. Hindsight truly was a wonderful gift.

Hours passed - or so it felt - when she felt the impact of a body against another surface. She rolled onto her front quickly, searching for where she felt the boom occur. Then, she had spotted the source; Adra, slumped against a tree, the Surgeon returning to an upright position from a kick that sent her hurtling back. Their little bonding time had come to an end, and Agnes wondered if she was in for another show.

The Surgeon hadn’t moved. Adrasteia rose to her feet, unbuttoning her shirt, something developing in rising on her face. A strange determination on her face.

Agnes wished she could share in it.

In truth, listening to Adrasteia’s proposition, she was tired of these tests. Sickeningly exhausted of them. It was all supposed to be one big punishment, rehabilitation for the horrible things she and the fellow Elites had committed. What shot she believed she had at redemption, to clear that sullied name of hers, was beginning to become an eyesore in her mind. Was it really worth it, in the end?

“Oh, do shut your mouth,” Agnes grunted, stretching and bending her good leg out, using it as the main carrier of her weight, before managing to get onto her feet again. “You win. I don’t know what it is you’ve won exactly, what games you’ve been playing, but I’m willing to concede to your victory.” She groaned, her hand rustling the back of her head, spits of sand falling out from dusty black waves. “Tsk, a mongrel with Herpes. Maybe if I hadn’t my head screwed on correctly, like I lost it completely yesterday, I’d let it right in there.” Her words were unusually crude the normal uptight, bossy Fairhair that trotted around the DWMA. Even she found the venom spewing from her mouth uncharacteristic of her. But she had enough sense to know the Surgeon was right. Madness wasn’t something she would have liked to risk.

Agnes glanced at Adrasteia. It hadn’t been with any sort of contempt. Her eyes had truly been drained of care for this situation. “I’d love to join you in putting this woman in her place, secretly. But,” she reached down, tapping her leg, an odd smile gracing her features, “whatever’s been done to this leg, I can barely bend it at the knee. Really, I’d only get in your way.”

Adrasteia’s words were ones Agnes hadn’t meant to part with. But it was ironic to think of how true they were in this context.

Sir Les Paul · Oct 8, 2020

The Surgeon

Dr. Hawks

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

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Winding down, disinterested

Sybil

The Surgeon listened to the response of the young Meister and was somewhat relieved that she declined the offer to continue fighting. Not that she would provide much of a fight. Or, either of them for that matter. In fact, thinking about it, if the two couldn't partner, the act of Soul Rejection might just be enough to knock out the Weapon that had to be running on fumes and that might just be entertaining enough to watch. Nevertheless, the Surgeon didn't exactly enjoy combat and the thought of it ending was a more ideal one.

It was quite plain to see the Meister she had disabled, so to speak, was at least fairly well-aware of her situation while simultaneously being quite worked up in general. The Surgeon was aware of the Paean Program. While she was a medical doctor, when drafts for the program were first introduced, she was asked her opinion on it. The idea of a program like this to rehabilitate demerited students in bulk, in her opinion, was a poor one. Her alternative would have seen one or two demerits worked off by reintroducing students to a healthy group while also performing critical thinking exercises involving why they were demerited in the first place. Perhaps even conditioning them to do better. If afforded the resources, perhaps even creating "conditioning teams" for demerited students, but that likely would only work in the short term as she expected these teams would get a reputation and thus negatively influence results.

In any case, the Mad weapon didn't deserve any form of conditioning. Hawkes felt she was beyond redemption.

But this Meister? She had potential. At least a lick of sense.

"Your leg can be easily fixed," the Surgeon responded. Her eyes remained fixated on Agnes. Adra was still in her field of vision, but she didn't expect her to be capable of anything that would surprise her. Not in her exhausted state.

"Well, at least by me. It would take a Surgeon without my skillset at least six hours, six weeks to heal, and likely eight months to a year for proper rehabilitation," she explained with utmost confidence.

"However," she added, "If you just come here, I'll fix it now free of charge. I really only needed you to stay put while I dealt with little miss Madness over there--and I get the feeling you weren't gonna listen if I just asked nice."

There was a hint of arrogance in her voice. It was found somewhere between her explanation of what it would take another doctor to fix this and the fractional time it would take her to do the same. Of course, that's neglecting the fact she caused the issue, and honestly, it was still a mystery as to how even that occurred. Nonetheless, the Surgeon seemed completely serious in her offer to reverse the damage done to Agnes' leg. She seemed back to her original, disinterest self once after having grasped the throat of the insane weapon.

Sir Les Paul · Oct 8, 2020

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The Shihan

Akari Hoshino

Species Human
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Disappointed

The Regal Rper

The werewolf swung. The Meister spoke. The master didn't give a fuck.

The razor sharp, nearly indestructible claws of the canine weapon lashed out in her general direction. Obviously not a well-orchestrated attack. Admittedly, she was impressed the weapon was even able to form words and transform so quickly. Perhaps it was his feral lineage. Perhaps he for his own reasons simply had a significant amount of willpower. In either case, the residual pain from her strike to his soul would normally have been enough to prevent a weapon from concentrating on a partial transformation to begin with.

Shihan coated her hand in her wavelength and used it to catch the claws as they lashed out. She gripped the blade firmly in her hand, suffering no cut and again overpowering the raw strength of the young male in front of her. She intended to display other facets of her wavelength mastery while holding his claw, but seeing the other Meister step in, she let go to see what he had to say. She could tell something was stirred up in him and her own curiosity wondered if it was worth hearing. Perhaps it was because she gave her actual opinion the last time. Perhaps it was because toying with his mind was more interesting than punishing his body. In either case, Gav had the stage.

Once he was done with his little tirade, Shihan lifted her hand back up to his direction. She held her middle and ring fingers back with her thumb before imbuing them with her wavelength. She let just a moment pass of them knowing what was to come before she released. And, when she did, what was released was a tempest of her wavelength in the form of the same Soul Force style technique she used on Skoll, albeit this time a bit stronger as it was intended to be indirect.

The force behind it was like being blasted in the chest with a watermelon being flung by gale force winds. It was hefty and massive despite literally having no mass. The gravity it carried was not physical, but spiritual. The weight it pressed into the chest of Gav hit his soul directly. While Skoll was given a pinpoint strike in his chest, Gav had his spread out over a larger area. It had time to dissipate due to the distance, but it would nonetheless affect his entire form. It was worse than Soul Rejection. Rejection was natural; it was his wavelength telling him that he was incapable with another. But this? This was a foreign invader so overwhelming that for a second, it shouted at his soul that it was going to behave this way for just a moment--and it did. It was a force capable of causing a disconnect in the body from the spirit. It was like losing all of one's strength, it was like each cell lost its will to live for a brief moment. In all honesty, Skoll likely had it worse because of the direct contact he received, but Skoll also wasn't battle fatigued and sore from a previous ass-whooping.

"You whine like a child," she said as the force from her hand brought him to the ground. She held her other hand--the one that had previously caught the claw--up to the weapon as if to threaten him to stay down.

"Your whole generation is entitled. I don't know who incorrectly informed you that you deserve a second chance, but you don't," she added, stepped forward and literally looking down on him. Her eyes didn't glance over to Skoll, but her words did. "At least he tried to stand for something, even now when you bring up your comrades, all you actually care about is yourself--that so-called second chance," she explained, still staring down at him.

"In my day, little shits like you died and the rest of us were better off for it," she added, reminding him yet again she was from a whole, harsher era. "You either need to find a purpose beyond your ego or give up this Path and realize the rest of the world might just be better off because of it," she said, yet again just tearing the young Meister down.

For the first time, her eyes darted over to Skoll. She tilted her head back to acknowledge him. "Don't you think so? How dangerous is a lone wolf to the pack?" she asked, boiling the entire speech she gave Gav down into one beautiful question for the werewolf.

Sybil · Oct 8, 2020

Adrasteia Chandrice
"Whiplash"

“......” The weapon watched this ordeal in... blatant shock. Her hands had finished unbuttoning her lower portion of her shirt to reveal her stomach, but now it hung open as she was no longer bothering with it and instead looked back between the Meister and the Surgeon. This was exactly how she didn’t want any of this to go, and her shock was a symptom of her mind trying to come to terms.

Is this it? Surrender? Begging for some higher power to fix it all? Just another boot to the face??

As a light breeze blew her shirt lightly opened at the unbuttoned portion, revealing numerous scars of varying ages but all relatively within a year of healing. None were incredibly recent, but many seemed deliberate in their damage. Self mutilation?

“.... that’s it? She gets... gets to just walk? We cry for someone to help us?? When things go wrong we look up??? This is all we are??” Her voice sounded desperate, the fumes she was running on still pushing her but with adrenaline starting to putter out she felt the damage more, her bones aching and the scalpel still buried in her shoulder from a precious attack.

“... this... this is just... you meisters... all of you....” Her brain was slowing down in it’s thoughts, her wounds causing her heart to slow as she slowly pulled the scalpel from her shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. She couldn’t believe this, but then again she could.

They would always disappoint her. This girl was no exception, and the weapon swallowed that pill. This realization, however, proved to be the last nail in her coffin as the body wobbled before falling to a knee and began to pant.

Location: Dall Island Oasis

Interactions:

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Taigakitt · Oct 11, 2020

Skoll Vargfang

Helplessly, Skoll had watched Akari just grab his metallic claws like it was nothing. Sweat dripped from his forehead, down his cheek. He couldn’t focus enough to transform his other hand. Keeping the transformation as it was now was taking almost all of his focus along with his fury to even keep it.

As soon as he was let go, Skoll quickly took a step back, staggeringly so. The more Gav spoke, the more Skoll found himself agreeing with him. He had brought up a good point that their time was being wasted, all because this strange group had a vendetta. What was even the point in interrupting a test for DWMA Elites who were being given another chance to redeem themselves? It seemed like they were a dim light of strength compared to what felt like the sun of Akira. What purpose did this serve but maybe make a point to Lord Death?

That accursed hand in a similar position as earlier when Akari smacked him with her power had moved up.

Shit.

If this was going to be anything similar, he didn’t believe he could get much further away, still recovering from the last attack.

Skoll jumped back quickly, as best he could, but he didn’t get very far. As soon as the power crashed into him, his partial transformation failed as he clutched his chest.

His focus was shattered, unable to linger on anything other than the pain that his soul felt. He could barely pick up on the words Akari was speaking, almost as if he were underwater and it was distorted.

When it seemed that he was being addressed, Skoll rubbed his temples with the bottom of his palms, trembling from rage, pain, and a bloodlust.

She speaks of lone wolves? Skoll might as well be one. Only one person was ever compatible with himself, and that was just barely. No one else had been worthy enough to wield him besides Tachi. Tachi was able to stand up to Skoll, and knew when to stand down. Tachi had to retire, all because of the actions of this selfish werewolf. Tachi was missing a whole limb because of this selfish werewolf.

This selfish werewolf wasn’t about to throw away his chances of making Tachi see Skoll in a new light. That Skoll didn’t need Tachi to be powerful, and that he could move forward on his own.

From his position, he glared through blonde bangs at the terrible woman, “You sure love your lectures. Lone wolves leave a pack because they don’t belong. Lone wolves don’t have a pack to be dangerous towards. This lone wolf-” he readied his hands in front of him, slightly opened “-has had enough of your shit.” He doubted he could do much, that much was quickly being made obvious, but he could at least put himself into a more defensive position.

Remembering the unconscious guy nearby, he briefly wondered why she was even keeping them awake. For what purpose? To toy with them?

“If your goal was to keep him away from the others, to keep me from walking into a death trap, why haven’t you just knocked us out? You are clearly capable enough. Why keep toying with us when it seems we cannot agree?”

Mentions: The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul

Arcanist · Oct 11, 2020

Agnes Fairhair

Mentions: - | Interactions: Adra (

Sybil ), Hawkes (

Sir Les Paul )

Agnes hadn't expected a different reaction from Adra. Of course, she would have reacted in such shock as if Agnes would have dropped everything at the chance to give this woman a taste of her own medicine. Oh, she wanted it, deep down, but she knew better than to put herself in the most intimate proximity of Madness. She wanted to open her mouth, explain further to her why it was a horrible idea, but she felt her lips sealing. Adra seemed to be beyond the point of listening. Explaining would have been as useful as screaming at the sand at their feet.

Agnes's gaze moved back towards the Surgeon, whose eyes remained firmly rooted on her. She swallowed back as she listened to her explanation. "Eight months...a year..." She mumbled, looking down at her leg. Hell, they might as well have just removed her leg at this point. An entire year off the field...that was if she could prove herself sane and reformed enough to work on the field again. She couldn't risk that. But the offer to fix her leg within an instant...that seemed almost too good to be true. It felt like she was dangling an opportunity in front of her face, only for her to snatch it away again.

But Agnes wouldn't deny she was desperate.

Agnes's lips twisted at the arrogant comment made by the Surgeon, but she opted to ignore it in favour of getting her leg's normal function back. Though, as she began to move towards her, she could heard another comment from Adra herself.

“... this... this is just... you meisters... all of you....”

"Are selfish," Agnes let the words drip from her mouth before she could think to keep them inside. "Awfully selfish..." She mumbled with a sigh. She didn't think she could ever change that within her. She continued making her way over to Hawkes, until she watched Adra drop to the ground, panting. Agnes felt herself pause, looking over to her, to the bloody scalpel lying in the sand. She wasn't sure whether to go running over to Adra or to Hawkes, her selfishness truly rising to the surface and testing her. Instead though, she looked to the Surgeon, enquiring, "What exactly did you do to her? When you were...?" She gestured vaguely to the spot where Hawkes held her in a choke-lock.

Sir Les Paul · Oct 11, 2020

The Surgeon

Dr. Hawks

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

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Winding down, disinterested

Sybil

The Surgeon had almost forgot about the impaled shoulder of the weapon. Inside the realm of the soul, time took on an entirely different pace. It could have been anywhere between four hours to half a day for their minds, but been mere seconds in reality. That type of lost time made it easy to forget such trivial things as a cut artery and profuse blood loss--especially when it wasn't yours.

She saw the look of defeat the weapon had, too, as she rambled on about surrender and the dichotomy of Meisters and Weapons. Petty nonsense in the eyes of the Surgeon. The truth of the matter was that the Weapon had exhausted herself fully against an opponent that outclassed her after already having been fatigued from nearly forty-eight hours in the wilderness of an island so dangerous that the United Nations allowed the DWMA to section it off for this exact type of testing. The battered and half-broken chain whip was perhaps insane and a touch Mad, but the Surgeon was beginning to wonder if her mental deficit extended to raw intelligence as well. Given the nature of whatever trauma she had to endure to get to this point, however, it would be impossible to ever tell.

The weapon took a knee and the Meister finally took interest in the sense the Surgeon was trying to beat into them.

"We all had a role," the Surgeon said, answering Agnes' question without doing so directly.

"Two of my companions isolated two of your teammates with the singular goal of genuine recruitment," she added, shedding light onto what these roles were.

"Two of us are essentially distractions... or baby-sitters depending on your point of view. I was assigned you two primarily because of her Madness," she explained, this time walking near Agnes, but not quite within range.

"I possess a Healing Wavelength. When I cut your leg, I intentionally it healed incorrectly. I can easily cut it again and heal it as if it never happened. Which also leads me to the answer to your question," she said, now standing within touching distance of Agnes. It was clear from her stance and demeanor she returned to her disinterest affect with no intention on fighting or harming anyone.

"A Healing Wavelength can also soothe the soul. I can melt Madness away, ease a broken mind, shackle the darkness inside the crevices of your brain... that's what I tried to do her--at least, at the end. I will admit I toyed with her Madness at first--but only to get a better understanding of it," she explained further. There seemed to be some level of conflict in her last statement. It was quite plain that she was aware of the morally reprehensible nature of her experiments, she merely justified it with the logic of learning. The ends justify the means. The same logic used by Nazi doctors in World War II; the same logic that pushed modern medicine to were it was today. Agnes might not have known the twisted things done by the hands of the Surgeon inside that shared space, but Adra did. The axe forgets, but the tree remembers.

"As for the ramblings of being Meisters and how selfish we are... I would remind you of what we really are: Homo Sapien. 46 chromosomes derived from two parents. We all eat, breath, sleep. Weapons contain one tiny, extra gene, but so what? Male pattern baldness exists because it isn't completed in their X gene and their Y gene can't have it. Genetic diversity has been the status quo for life itself since the pre-Cambrian explosion and we adapt faster because of it," she explained, addressing the less important comment made by Agnes, but still speaking loud enough for Adra to hear.

"We're all human. Meister is just a title and Weapon is just a gene; get the fuck over it," she told Agnes directly. Her tone changed now. While she was definitely intentionally speaking loud enough for Adra to hear, she was speaking more personally and directly to Agnes. It was almost as if this was some type of odd, twisted 'girl power' speech, or at least some type of motivational speech regardless of gender. The point is that the Surgeon now seemed oddly supportive and this time, when she pulled out a paper-covered scalpel from her pocket, she waited to take it out of the paper, as if letting Agnes know she had some say in the matter.

Sybil · Oct 12, 2020

Adrasteia Chandrice
"Whiplash"

Selfish... huh... yeah you all are...

They would always disappoint her.

They all would. Teachers, doctors, peers. They are all beneath her arbitrary standards, but they were standards she found acceptable. Standards existed for her polar opposite as well, and every step of her way she found one more person who overstepped her boundaries and freedoms for their own motives. Good or not, the weapon found no solace or acceptance of the transgressions. Madness or not, she reveled in the idea of being allowed to breathe, to god damn think, without some person vomiting their ideals of bullshit down their throat. Like some perverse mother bird, she felt every doctor, every meister who wielded or tried to wield her, and even every teacher try to force-feed her these ways of what was normal and right. What she should do. What she should think. What she should act like. Her thoughts then revisited the current situation, the doctor finding her hateful focus once more.

The surgeon was nothing special. She was a woman who held her own head up by gifts she was birthed with and nothing more, a lucky recipient of the RNG of life. Adrasteia could do nothing about her starting point, but she would eventually move past those who were born high. Fuck this starting point, she would pave farther and prove them all wrong. This train of thought was all that kept her from passing out, the body running on little more than her will and not much else. It had been used, abused, and left out to dry, the body fighting fight after fight until it was left as it now kneeled, and then came the speech of the woman who spoke higher and mightier than she should. God the speech, it was like listening to droning sewage, the weapon nearly letting her will give out just to avoid her blatant and oversimplification of situations as simple labels. Spoken like a true outsider, one who never knew anything of what it was like on the ground.

"Good... try quack... but your brain... makes you pretty... stupid...I bet... from so high up... our differences don't... seem so big... but they are...oh and... Queen bitch... I'll make you see one day... and when I do... I'll tear your soul apart... you sick fuck." She slowly leaned back, unable to keep herself on her knee. Now on her ass leaning against the tree, she had been kicked against she just sat and glared through the one eye visible through her messy hair that had lost its style thanks to the fight. "Now fix the... meister... like a good girl... I am done playing with... a worse nutcase."

With that, she turned her eyes to the Meister. Inside those eyes Agnes, though the Surgeon as well, could see the exhaustion that had been plaguing her before and this had only pushed her through her fumes and into testing what it meant for a mortal to be truly relentless. "Don't let her drivel... make your mind... something she wants... and don't... let her in your head....... You think I am messed up?.... You haven't seen... shit..."

Location: Dall Island Oasis
Interactions:

code by RI.a

Arcanist · Oct 14, 2020

Agnes Fairhair

Mentions: - | Interactions: Adra (

Sybil ), Hawkes (

Sir Les Paul )

Questions, questions, more of them rather than clear-cut answers. She listened, nonetheless, without interrupting, trying to soak up any bit of information that could have been considered useful. Though, she couldn't help but scoff at the comment she was their babysitter. More fucking supervisors. It was beginning to seem like none of them were to be trusted, though if they were here, and if the midconducts were as serious as Agnes's, they probably had good reason to be assigned babysitters. Only...these weren't DWMA affiliated babysitters, from what she could gather.

And that word...recruitment again. For what and who? Some rival to the organisation?

That thought had been bypassed by the Surgeon's explanation of how she managed to cut her leg, or rather, incorrectly heal it. Furthermore, it explained how she tried to 'heal' Adra's Madness, how she could apparently do it with ease. She doubted she was very good at it, seeing as Adra's mind was still hopping like a box full of frogs, and she couldn't fully trust that she just wanted to earn more knowledge on Adra's strain of Madness. She saw how batshit she went at the thought of being able to dissect the girl, to see inside her and discovery the seed of it. But she could never understand someone like that, who was fuelled by that kind of thing. Agnes was built differently, was fuelled by an entirely different goal. She didn't want to think of the possibility she'd ever share something like that with this woman.

Though, deep down, perhaps she did. She took risks to reach the impeccable standards to the point she lost sight of things, and Clover, the one good partner she had.

And the Surgeon's...pep talk? Lecture? It didn't seem to make her feel any better, if that was her intention. If anything, she felt more like a chastised child. She was right. The differences were found purely in genetics. But genetics never made anyone selfish, always their environment. And she would be lying, if she said not every Meister had been selfish when it came down to their partners. Perhaps they all were, like Adra said.

Agnes, biting her lip, was about to confirm the Surgeon could fix up her leg, when Adra's babbling reached her ears again. Those words, that tone. The aggression mounted, further and further. Why did Agnes have to be here? Yet, in Adra's eyes...she felt just as exhausted staring at her. And yet her words seemed oddly genuine, oddly trusting. Agnes didn't respond, didn't thank her, but didn't chastise her, or snap at her. She brought her hand up to her eyes, rubbing at them.

"Just fix it," she told the Surgeon quietly.

Sir Les Paul · Oct 15, 2020

The Surgeon

Dr. Hawks

Species Human
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission ???
Status Winding down, disinterested

Sybil

"Is it just me, or is it absurdly annoying when an idiot tells you to do something you already intended on?" the Surgeon said as she unwrapped her scalpel from the sterilized paper sheathe it was in. She then neared Agnes and knelt down over her. She placed one hand on her leg above the knee and slightly turned it inward, pushing out the bulk of the muscle as she did. Her hands were firm and still. Incredibly still, almost like four marble protrusions. Her golden wavelength enveloped her Scalpel before she pressed it to Agnes' skin. It made a small incision. The pain was minor, comparable to the sting of a papercut, but immediately diminished.

"It seems to be a desperate attempt to get you to change their action; as if they expect your ego to be so large that you would refuse to do something merely because some insect coincidentally told you to," she explained. As she spoke, however, she slashed into Agnes leg. Once, straight down it. The cut was deep near her bone, then followed by two more cuts before she even finished her sentence. She cut through the muscle effortlessly and while the pain was intense, it was incredibly short lived--comparable to the flickering of poorly wired lights. Her tissue was only bare for a second before the golden aura of the Surgeon poured into it, causing the tissue to reconnect almost automatically, stitching itself back together and sealing itself up just as her sentence ended. It was as she promised. A moment with her was comparable to hours with a proper Surgeon.

Tissue felt like was still shifting inside her leg, not quite yet done. Which was fine, neither was the Surgeon. "We do have another topic to discuss," she told her before removing her hand from Agnes' leg. "Your ally over there does truly have a seed of Madness in her. I mean, you could say we all do, but hers has taken root. I made it dormant which will buy her time, but it will grow. I tried sealing it up, slowing it down even further with Wavelength stitches, but the idiot decided to rip them out... Death knows why," the Surgeon said, explaining more about what went on inside their Soul Space.

"She will forever be a danger to whoever she is around and she clearly has no control over it," the Surgeon told her. "You're her ally, not me. Perhaps you should decide. Do you think we should let her bleed out over there? I could heal it, you could apply pressure, but should we? There's no doubt she'll be a danger to anyone she's around. Hasn't she already caused you all plenty of problems?" the Surgeon asked, actually posing several important questions. She sounded academic here. Cold. Uncaring. She treated Adra like a dog that needed put down, not a mind that needed mending.

The Regal Rper · Oct 16, 2020

Collab

One moment he was moving away from her, retreating, moving towards Skoll to help him get out of the way, the next her attack had hit.

In that instant Gav lost touch with the world. He wasn't conscious of what happened to Skoll or even that he himself fell as he completely lost balance, body shutting down to his instructions. He landed but slipped and fell forwards, the pain pulsing through every fiber of his being, snapping him out of his daze. A rush of heat and wetness blinding him and in the same instant he hit the ground as he braced his body when the awareness touched his mind he was falling.

"Oof!" came the grunt.

His body pulsed with pain, and yet he thought it could be overcome with will power.

He was wrong. Tried to get up and he fell back down, a move that made his body ache worse and the first set of tears stream down his cheeks. A choking cough escaped him and muscles quivered. Through grit teeth, he snarled, furious, feeling her shadow. Reminded of training with Rosetta, his cousin, a witch, a time when he was on the path of a mage and was more the sparring partner magical duels that gave him some practice with controlling his wavelength in a pseudo exercise to understand magical control.

Gav said nothing for a time, during which he had no choice but to listen to Skoll's come back. A part of him agreed, particular with the toying part. Was this all a game to the bitch?

Yet another part of him was outraged at the character assassination she was performing. He had put up with it, and now he was sick of it.

"I ha-have had it!" he winced, looking down as he tried to regain some semblance of energy to get back up. Then only after that pause lasted a few seconds did he continue after inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, "Yeah, I do have an ego. Won't deny that. But I'm nothing like how you suggest." his body shook as he slowly tried to lift himself up, muffled as he said, " Lemme tell you something lady" Gav stated in as calm a voice he could, even if his breathing was off just a little. Settling for propping up on his arm. "You can have all the info you want on someone, analyse them all you want, and still come up with blanks about who they are. I let that comment slide earlier when you were talking about paths, but calling me a chaotic loose cannon, a selfish egotist with no cares for anyone but himself- I don't know how long it's been since you left DWMA, but I would have been out long ago if I were as bad as you say. That is character assassination. I put up with that from Vanya, I experienced that for years from my own family, I'm not taking that from some old lady who barely knows me. You want to say I'm following the Path of the Demon, I say you're wrong. You think I'm obssessed with power, I ain't stupid. I've been following catalogues on DWMA agents and most Guild Agents since I was fucking six. I know who Mifune was. I've done my research. If I weren't confident in what I knew, I wouldn't be talking right now would I? I know how he affected Black

Star. My 'Mifune' is my mentor Raubtier. I put up with over a decade plus of manipulation by my own mother's relatives for being born with a deficit;" mockingly "'you need to do this so you'll get x, you have to be like this so you can finally be accepted as y'-- he helped me through that more than my own parents did. I'm not about to take that brainwashing shit from an opponent on the field who seems to think they can read me like a book after a single fight and less than two hours of a conversation where 79% of that conversation was You shutting us down. You may be able to analyze me, but trust me, if we're playing that game I'll tell you right here and right now" his finger tapping the ground, "you sure as hell don't know me." then he pointed a finger at the sky, "Or any of my peers. Maybe you can manipulate them to get the results you and your friends are looking for like how Midori and I fell into this trap, but you don't know any of us personally. I ask you stop talking like you have insight on everything in how DWMA is currently and how its latest batch of agents are. I don't care if you have some kinda psychoanalytic doctor there, it means nothing if that doc hasn't dealt with each of us personally-- and frankly speaking I highly doubt you have anyone like that on your team. Someone who could combat Adra's..." his voice trailed off. For a moment he went silent.

His face sizzled into confusion. She said they had people that were there to intervene and split them up, that means…

Gav's expression went from frustrated to realization. The 'oh' written on his face without even needing to be said. He'd been so distracted trying to get info out of her that he had forgotten about the possibilities of what the others might be dealing with, with their own opponents. If there was someone like Shihan in this group that could counter both him and Midori, even working together then Adra's madness wouldn't be a weapon if they had information on them. Sera's sniping and attacks wouldn't be effective. Ciel's flight could be countered.

A look of conflict crossed his face.

Shit, I've been wasting time here while they've been having their way the whole time. And if they were really a de facto branch, how many members thought or felt similar? He'd been so obsessed with knowing more he hadn't even thought about the other variables.

The fire that was Gav's tirade vanished in quite a sudden instant. He blinked away the blurry and tears rolled down his eyes as he tried to get to his knees.

Only thing he could say was: "Holy crap… I really haven't been thinking this entire time...while I've been stuck here, the others…" his jaw tensed and his chapped lips twitched down, a hand running through his hair. "Holy shit, I did it again. Got so focused on the goal I forgot about everything else, just like yesterday...damn…"

He honestly looked deflated.

“Oi! Don’t go giving up now when you’re the one who dragged me into this. Get up!” Skoll’s voice came out in a growl as his hand swiped at air in an expression of his frustration. The vocal tirade was enough time for Skoll to feel like he could shift into his partial weapon form again, in which he made sure to do for his left arm.

”You’re so close,” Shihan said as she let out a dry sigh, ”yet, so far.” In her ample years teaching, Shihan had developed a special type of patience. The ability to withdraw herself from a situation and become more of a silent observer than an active participant in the conversation. It helped her take in every action that followed more objectively.

There came a time that silence needed to be broken.

”Child, I have not assassinated your character. You see, assassins like my cousins, they like to work from the shadows--use stealth, deception, misdirection. What I’ve done is quite the opposite: bring your character to the spotlight,” she explained, yet again cutting through all of his nonsense. ”Your problem is you don’t like what you see, so you reject it,” she added with that same, overbearing tone of condescension.

”Whine, whine, whine, cry, cry, cry, bitch, bitch, bitch. It’s all you do. You sing the same pathetic song I’ve heard a million times: you don’t know me, you have no idea, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Kid, shut the fuck up. You talk so much that you miss the point I’m making and it genuinely just makes you sound stupid,” she said, focusing clearly on Gav, but her attention quickly turned to Skoll.

”You’re some shit type of wolf, too, kiddo. Wolf packs are powerful predators in great numbers and with incredible coordination. A lone wolf either doesn’t live long or doesn’t stay alone long. Why? Because packs don’t exile wolves that cause dissent; they kill them. Lone wolves become carrion, eating the dead prey of other real predators until they find a new pack in a new territory,” she said, cutting right into Skoll as well.

”Well, there is one tiny exception. You see, when female wolves get a certain age, they get kicked out of their packs right along territorial lines and they’re forced to find a new pack. Wolf packs take them with open arms, too, because it creates genetic diversity. Prevents inbreeding. Makes the pack stronger,” Shihan told him with a devious grin. ”So, unless you’ve suddenly lost that furry set of balls you should have, you got no excuse,” she said, clearly intending to purely insult him.

Her eyes darted back over to Gav with a piercing intensity. While she wasn’t looking, Skoll’s face had contorted into a fury, standing where he was. Silent. Fuming.

Pop. A ripple of heat flashed through the werewolf’s body. His lip curled up into a snarl as teeth sharpened and muscles bulged. Heat and pain, signature of a werewolf shift. A pain Skoll was used to. With a guttural growl, teeth snapped from a furry muzzle, his white fur standing on end along his spine, his tail a giant floof. His weapon transformation altered to accommodate his more wolf form. Skoll’s voice was more growling and deep from his chest in this form, “You know jack shit about werewolves! Don’t act like you do!” He was done and had enough. He had already been attacked twice physically, and now insulted.

Done.

Skoll lunged, enveloping wind around his claws to extend his reach when he would eventually swing his claw at the aggressive pink bitch. Within his claw was all of his rage. All of his frustration and power. All of the feral force that came from the bloodline of a beast. Yet, in the end, it didn’t matter when facing an opponent like this pink-haired bitch.

The wind from his attack hit her wavelength and stopped dead. His power and wavelength came to an abrupt halt without even a flicker of her own. His claw itself neared her, a fraction of a millimeter from her bare skin. Just before the sweet satisfaction of a claw in flesh, she was gone. It wasn’t but another moment before she reappeared with the flat of her hand jammed right between the cervical vertebrae of Skoll. There was no Soul Force applied, either, instead just a bare hit from an empowered hand.

And, just as it did for Midori, it was enough to take Skoll out of the realm of conscious thought. All of his rage turned into blackness, his energy brought to an immediate stop, his body falling limp to the ground. Neither Werewolf nor Death Golem could withstand a strike from her even if the former endured a direct strike to his Soul.

The werewolf reverted back as he fell to the ground and Shihan didn’t miss a beat in turning to Gav. Business as usual.

”I don’t care about your family. I don’t care about your mentors. Neither of them have taught you what absolutely matters most, and it shows in everything you do. More importantly, it shows in your weakness. You need a purpose greater than yourself--this is an irrefutable fact. Stein did not reach his potential until he found his true purpose. Black☆Star did not reach his potential until he fought to do more than prove himself. Every generation after them has proven this true and it is no different for you, dumb shit,” Shihan told him, reiterating her previous point.

”My ally, the Surgeon, is talented. But, you and either weapon here could likely defeat her, especially with women you left behind. It is no secret that you two were the most dangerous of this group. All it took to solve that problem was to appeal to your ego. You tell me I don’t know you, but you did exactly as predicted and our plan is going off without a hitch,” she explained before pulling out a device with two illuminated lights on it--green and blue.

”This means that friend of yours, Ciel, has already been dealt with. The same for a fellow named Serafim. Soon enough, a pink light will glow to represent you two--three now, I guess. My point is, the only person you fool with your bullshit is yourself,” explained to him about the lights, but quickly added, ”And, honestly, if you can’t stop making excuses, you aren’t worth my time.”

Staring at the ground, eyes lifting up as he pushed himself to a knee, Gav asked a simple question: "So what do I do then?" the genuineness in his words reflected by disappointment on his face. "What's your advice here?"

Collabers:

Sir Les Paul · Oct 16, 2020

The Shihan

Akari Hoshino

Species Human
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission Distraction, potential recruitment
Status Disappointed

The Regal Rper

Epiphany. It was the only word to describe the moment. In front her face laid bare a Meister that had an overwhelming sensation of brutal realization--about himself, his allies, his past, his future. Dr. Hawkes may have the moniker Surgeon, but it was Akari in this moment that cut the deepest. It was a rare moment; so few of her students ever came face to face with reality like this... but they tended to be the great ones. The moment was made even rarer by the reality of what she was surrounded by: two-half breeds and the world's only Death Golem. All of their stories were convoluted with twists and turns that made them unique little monstrosities in this Oasis. Perhaps this moment would pivot just one of them into a better direction.

"I can do many things, kiddo... but I can't give you a purpose," she answered him. It was almost a sullen answer; all of that build-up just to be informed she couldn't give him what she told him he needed.

"The reason a true purpose will drive you further than your ego or any other ambition for that fact is that a true purpose is fuel for your heart. It will temper your soul in flames hotter than any blow to your pride ever will," she explained, making sure to take this time while he was listening to pour on the most important tidbits of information she could.

"Let me make this as clear as I possibly can. Find something that drives you to succeed so damn much that you don't give a damn if anyone knows your name as long as you see it through. And, if that thing--whatever it is--conflicts with your mentors or your family, to Hell with'm," she explained. Unlike nearly every other time she spoke, this time, it was without condescension. These words carried a sincere honesty and powerful gravitas that few others had ever achieved when speaking to Gav. Or anyone, for that fact.

"My advice is simple. Find your purpose, then find me. If our purposes align, I'll train you to make it happen. If they don't, fight me and show me how strong you've become. Maybe you'll finally be the one to kill me," she told him, but smirked, "though I do doubt that."

She then let out a sigh as her body began to revert to her aged form, losing the color in her hair, her posture, tone--just everything bright and vibrant about her. "'Til that day, I suggest you watch these two until reinforcements arrive," she told him before pressing her thumb down on her little device. Just as with the others, it was but a few moments before it glowed pink.

Sybil · Oct 17, 2020

Adrasteia Chandrice
"Whiplash"

The words were melting in the air before they reached the weapon, her eyes unfocusing slowly as they blurred. Honestly? Her body had more important priorities than her vision and hearing, putting them on the back burner as it dealt with shock and trying to clot blood in the correct areas. She hadn’t thought she was this hurt, but then again she never thought about her own injuries until after a fight. She felt like it was not directly lethal, but to the blood loss and mental thrashing in her soul she took had started to leave her dazed. Time stretches and surged, moments turning to milliseconds and seconds being stretched out to minutes, the whole concept of time was relative it seemed to her perception.

Regardless she just got as comfortable as she could against the tree behind her, taking deep breathes and putting the remaining effort she had into curling her legs up to her chest to reserve body heat.

Shit is fucked... what’s new?... if it wasn’t for all these damn teachers and shits.... this might have been a fun Island... Damn...

Location: Dall Island Oasis
Interactions:

code by RI.a

Arcanist · Oct 21, 2020

Agnes Fairhair

Mentions: Adra (

Sybil ) | Interactions: Hawkes (

Agnes scoffed. Boy, was it annoying indeed. Story of her fucking life. She didn't want to relate to the Surgeon, but she did say a lot of things that she found herself agreeing with...or perhaps that was her goal too. She couldn't be sure. She couldn't be sure about anything going on on this island anymore. Agnes complied with her at the very least, letting her turn her knee inward, cringing slightly at the sight as she pushed out her muscle. She watched the wavelength wrap around the Scalpel, before it pressed into her skin. The paper-cut like sting hardly affected Agnes, or at least, she didn't show it had affected her so easily. She had been through worse, after all. P

"Perhaps," Agnes murmured, wondering if such an objective was shared among her family. To keep pushing her, and pushing her, until she truly went off the rails, a turtle stuck on its back with few ways to find itself onto its feet again. Silly, but it would solve many of her own problems, and many Fairhair PR problems at the most as well. She winced, then groaned at the intense pain that shot through her leg. Her immediate reaction was to jerk back her leg, but the Surgeon's hands and her forcing herself to keep still managed to keep the leg in place. Agnes hadn't even time to inspect the tissue, the muscle inside her leg, when the quick surgery was done.

Mostly done. The leg was still mending itself, as if a bug had gotten lodged inside of her and was crawling through tissue in an attempt to escape. The though made her shudder, but the Surgeon's next topic had taken her away from such horrific thoughts. She listened to her explanation, back to Madness all over again, what she had done to it, or tried to. Her eyes shot back and forth between the Surgeon and the weapon. The Surgeon's next suggestion was brutal, not a shock to Agnes, but implicating her in it had made her hesitate.

Adra had caused problems. Drove people to crazed antics and insanity the day before, cutting very thin ties people had others, and worse yet, made for a very awkward sleepover. Yet now, watching her over there, curled up, she felt pity for the girl. Had she ever asked for it? Even if she did tear out her stitches, refused to walk the path of sanity...wasn't someone like that meant to be helped and not put down? Agnes understood the danger. She understood why she had been asked, countless times, to reap souls as a matter of protection. But to kill what was close to a colleague, a student, even if it wasn't by her own hand...it wasn't her place to. She came here to redeem herself, not to play Executioner among Elites. That would land her in more trouble than what it was worth.

So, Agnes turned back to the Surgeon. "Of course she has," she said, nodding as she looked back to Adra. "...but it isn't my place to decide whether she dies here or not. I might not appreciate that...Madness in her, and she's a liability clearly, and I don't owe her anything, but I'm not entirely the heartless bitch everyone seems to believe I am." To her comrades, at least. She wished she showed further care towards them now; all three of them. "Thank you for fixing my leg again, but I'm afraid I cannot let Adra die as a result of negligence as a comrade. It almost happened once, and I don't intend to let someone reach that stage on my behalf again."

Sir Les Paul · Oct 21, 2020

The Surgeon

Dr. Hawks

Species Human
Partner ???
Rank ???

Location Oasis on Gaea Glade
Mission Distraction
Status Calm, sincere

Sybil

The Surgeon listened to every word that Agnes had to say, ever observant and constantly analyzing her answers despite her disinterested face. By this time, the odd movements beneath the skin of her young patient had healed. She was that quick. Or more, her wavelength was. She had realized a long time ago her Healing Wavelength became dramatically more effective as she became more effective as a physician as if it had a symbiotic correlation with her skill. That thought wasn't pertinent at this moment, however. No, she had far more interesting opinions based on the two in front of her.

Adra. She was a problem. The Surgeon had access to a type of case report on her. Not quite as thorough as if she were still a doctor for the DWMA, but enough to get a good idea of who she was and how severe things were before ever even seeing the girl. And, unironically, meeting Adra in person only worsened her perspective of her. Whatever psychiatrist allowed her out of a ward and more importantly out into the field was a quick and Hawkes would believe nothing less. She meant what she said: the girl was a walking liability and her Empath ability only expounded the situation. But, as Agnes said, she was not to be judge, jury, and excutioner; and, she tried what she could do in a therapeutic sense, but patients ignoring doctors orders was nothing new.

Agnes. She had potential, unlike her current counterpart. She had the ability to reflect back on her faults, but just as importantly, she controlled herself in the situation on repeated occasion. When the girl had her leg cut and was clearly outclassed, she didn't try anything rash. Perhaps she had some internal conflict or guilt for watching Adra get beat down, perhaps she got some type of delight out of it. In either case, she didn't do anything stupid when she had multiple opportunities to. And, when offered, she allowed herself to be healed without complication. Hawkes knew several individuals that might just strike back once they found themselves healed only to end up back in the same position, if not worse.

"Hindsight is 20-20. Maybe someday you'll look back on this decision and regret it... but" the Surgeon said, addressing Agnes once more, "that's not what I mean in this case."

The Surgeon held her scalpel in her hand and began pouring her wavelength into it far more drastically, turning its golden glow into more of a literal golden huge as if the stainless steel was now a more precious metal. "I told you that you were the least important member of this squad. However... on a squad full of delinquents, borderline criminals, former traitors, and apparently even the Mad..." she said, giving a brief moment before finishing her explanation. "Being the least important person isn't exactly an insult," she explained before turning the now-gold scalpel to Agnes, handing her the blunt side.

Meanwhile, she pulled out a black device of a thick plastic and several glowing lights. Blue, Green, Pink, and after a brief delay when the Surgeon pressed her thumb to the button, Orange.

"I won't be healing her; you will. I've poured enough of my wavelength into this scalpel so that you can just jam it into her shoulder and it should heal that wound and keep her calm while you do it; it won't take but a second," she said with a gentle smile. The Surgeon she was seeing now, while not exactly nice, was still a fair bit different than the one they initially encountered. Her idea of 'kindess' was still quite rude and direct. Her 'pep talk' might not have been the most energetic, but it still carried important points. Perhaps these were just flaws in her personality. Not everyone could be a social butterfly.

"A suggestion. I do believe you'll succeed in this program. Pick a partner you think deserves another chance and help them succeed," she said before turning around to walk off into the thick foliage of the wilderness.

Note: I assume here Agnes will take the scalpel for the sake of brevity.

Arcanist · Oct 24, 2020

Agnes Fairhair

Mentions: - | Interactions: Hawkes (

Sir Les Paul , Adra (

Sybil )

Eventually, Agnes felt the movements cease under her skin, and she had to admit, she was relieved at that. The thought of feeling something like that crawling under her skin were nightmares she had many, many moons ago, and she would have hated to relive that again.

But back to the Surgeon. She could see her disinterested gaze over her, and wondered just what it was she was thinking. Was she judging her and her decision? Judging Adra? Or perhaps, almost assessing her? It was a look that she was familiar with, and what usually followered were expectant gazes or disappointed looks. She wondered which of the two the Surgeon would come back with here. Neither disappointment nor endearment arrived. She should have expected that, what with how cool and stoic she had been for some time now. Agnes raised an eyebrow at the Surgeon, wondering just what she meant by her comment. She watched the scalpel glow with that same golden hue, like the hue around treasure in those old cable movies she watched in the ridiculously early mornings.

Agnes listened closely. The least important member amongst all these students, all these elites...and yet, it wasn't so much of a bad thing. If anything, she was in a better position than most of these people. She would (hopefully) still have her name to fall back on, should the worst befall her. She had the support of her parents and brother, at the very least, and at the very worst, would find herself in the Countess's Bad Books. The others ones? They not only had the judgement of society on them, but like the Surgeon said, the eyes of the State on them, diseases, a lifetime of mistakes trailing behind him...if anything, she had the most security, even if it did seem shaky.

Agnes took the scalpel in her hand, hesitant, and confused as to what the Surgeon wanted her to do with it. She was even more bewildered by the device she pulled out, with four distinct colours, before pressing on the orange one. Again, more questions than answers, but that wasn't the main concern here. Instead, now she would be playing doctor, or rather nurse, doing the last of the doctor's prescribed dirty work. "Wait, so where are you...?" She was going to ask where she was going, though, she figured she wouldn't get any straight answers here either. "Fine. I'll see to it."

What surprised her, next, was her assurance that Agnes would make it through this program. One of the first, and few, to tell her something like that in relation to this damn programme. It was clear she was surprised, when the Surgeon would be met by stunned silence. Her next bit of advice, to find another partner, not for her to succeed, but for them to reap the spoils of success...it prompted some thought for her. Hadn't success been the only thing Agnes had ever tried to secure? For herself, for the Fairhairs? How a Scientist, who, so stoic one minute, yet, could go some crazy joyride in analysing a mad weapon, present a thought that Agnes had never consider before, was unthinkable to her. More apparently, had she been so selfish to have never considered it for herself first?

Before Agnes could even respond to the woman, she had walked off into foilage. She was in half a mind to walk after her, though, noticed the scalpel was still in her hand. Her thoughts, and whoever that woman was, would have to be dealt with later. She sighed, before rushing back to Adra, getting on her knees beside her, scalpel ready in one hand.

"You better not make me regret this," Agnes murmured to Adra. "Hang on for me. I'll fix this." And with that, she jabbed the scalpel into Adra's shoulder without waiting for confirmation, waiting, and hoping that the wound would clear.

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Elenion Aura · Oct 25, 2020

Let it all burn down around us

Gaea Glade – Oasis: Serafim nodded in return, unsure if he had earned this strange man's respect by agreeing, or if his respect needed to be earned at all. Nevertheless, Serafim could not deny that something about him was odd. Perhaps not odd, per se. Different from the authoritative mannerisms on display at the DWMA, that was for certain. He felt Ismene relax beside him the moment he'd agreed to do what it was that Aegis wanted, to meet this 'Most Wanted' person. He was not afraid. He wanted to be off this island, but otherwise he was jarringly content. Ismene's presence had made all of the difference for him. Still, Aegis' next request gave him pause...

It was possible that Aegis, who only knew Serafim secondhand through reports or word of mouth from his sister, might've missed the subtle dilation of Serafim's eyes that betrayed his lie. He shook his head as if to say, 'I don't have anything on me', which was not true. The Blip device was tucked away in the fold of his tunic. He could all of a sudden feel its mild heat against his breast all the more fiercely. Ismene on the other hand...

☽☾

Ismene's eyes locked on her brother. He was watching Aegis. Aegis didn't seem to notice - if he did he didn't make any obvious show of it - but that didn't help shake Ismene's growing concern. 'Why, Ser? Why would you lie?'

☽☾

Serafim and Ismene followed Aegis as he lead them to their destination. For his part, Serafim didn't mind Aegis' commentary. At worst, he could simply tune the man out. Ismene, on the other hand, had no problems asking him to keep quiet. Serafim colored some at this. His sister... Impertinent as always, he thought. They talked as they walked, their voices low, but not too low so as to raise suspicion. Besides, Ismene assured him that Aegis was not the type to snoop. He believed her. Eventually they came to their destination. Serafim took a moment to marvel at the sight. Only Ismene tugging slightly on his shirt pulled Serafim out of his trance-like staring. He looked at her, her face suddenly pale. "Ismene..?"

"I'm okay... Just a little tired's all."

A lie. He could tell. Anger caught in his throat. It made him all the more angry for not knowing who to be angry with. He wheeled on Aegis and snarled in a low voice, "Take us to this Weaver person. Now."

"Ser, calm. I'm fine. Really..."

Undeterred, his eyes blazing, Serafim waited impatiently for Aegis' reply.

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The Aegis

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Sir Les Paul

Sybil · Oct 26, 2020

Adrasteia Chandrice
"Whiplash"

The flow of conversation and actions were a blur to the weapon, her body begging for the relentless brain to give it a ceasefire. A break. Just some time to breathe... But the mind refused. Her mind was, despite what people would assume from her, quite strong of a will under most circumstances. A creature of whim, but her whim was iron-clad. There was a reason she was here, on this island in a reforming program, instead of locked up and forgotten. She was a student of high marks, her partner cooperation and resonance scores were of noticeable levels given to her rather complacent nature before. She practically screamed potential, and her inclusion in the program didn't likely do it hoping for someone to be able to rein her in. Rather, it was to likely send her to a place filled with oddities and punks to find someone outside the normal sphere to handle her.

But since coming to the island? Her volatile nature had endangered students, caused rifts amongst them, and even endangered herself in her reckless actions. She was a liability. She was psychotic. She was prejudiced. She was bipolar. Her mind was getting more and more set into this toxic mindset, her abilities to inflict toxins a direct representation of her soul's hostility.

Her brain was her strength. It was her weakness. It was her.

Which was why the scalpel that sunk into her shoulder confused her in its strange lack of pain. Instead of piling on pain for her consciousness to fight, it instead found itself in the glow of replenishing energies. Agnes would find the mark as it sealed the sound shut, Adrasteia's shoulder no longer sagging down as it tensed. Her body consumed the healing eagerly as well, ravishing the soul wavelength provided to replenish herself in more than just tissue but energy itself. With the scalpel removed she would shift slightly, her head rolling a bit to the side to look up at the meister. With one yellow eye, she stared, the light returning to her eye as she slowly regained color and hearing to the world around her. This eye stared with confusion, out of all the possibilities, how did this come to pass.

What does she gain from this? What does that quack gain? Are they the crazy ones?? This is... nonsense... From refusing to fight.. to this?

"...you surprise me.. in all parts of the spectrum..." She rolled the head back up, now properly looking at Agnes face to face with a grin as her legs uncurled and laid out flat. "... I would ask you why... but honestly I wonder if I would even understand your reasoning... so instead I'll ask something else. What now?"

No curses. No refusal. No fight. Just the first sign of cooperation the venomous weapon had offered likely to anyone in a long while.

Location: Dall Island Oasis
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Sir Les Paul · Oct 28, 2020

The Aegis

Thorn

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

Location Heart of the Oasis
Mission Return with Serafim & Ismene
Status Calm, collected

Elenion Aura

Aegis could tell two things: Ismene needed her next dose of medication and Serafim was far from happy about it. It seemed like if anything were to set a wildfire inside the young man, it truly was his sister. This, however, was an inevitability. Ismene functioned on the treatments from Weaver and too long without the mage meant her condition would decline. These were things Aegis was well aware of and prepared for. All he had to do was bite his normally-short tempered tongue at the irate Meister in front of him.

Luckily, Aegis was also kept on track by the sheer punctuality of Weaver. What seemed like an army of thousands of soft green spiders rushed down through the silk covering the tree to begin weaving together a large cocoon that reached far into the height of the tree. The speed at which they weaved was impressive, but it helped that a lot of their weaving was already done as if this particular construction had already been built before. Nonetheless, it seemed like the more obvious answer to Sera and reminded Aegis to stay on track.

"Up we go," Aegis told them, "Weaver apparently has been waiting." Aegis was the first to step into the platform. The spiders had created a flat bottom of intricately woven webbing, but it still had a slight squish to it. It would nonetheless be strong and sturdy. Nature was a powerful thing and Weaver had a way of working her into many of his mechanisms. While Ismene might have been feeling fatigued, her decline was still slow. Hardly noticeable in difference between the base of the tree and the ride up in the silken cocoon. Once the three stepped out, the cocoon made its way back to the floor of the Oasis and Aegis stepped forward, leading them all to the treetop plateau.

It was more akin to a shelf built into the tree, really. The entire area perhaps large enough for a youth soccer game or a large household dining hall, but even then, the tree itself still continued to ascend while sprouting more of the gilled mushrooms off its main body. It didn't seem the webbing ascended much higher than the height of the plateau which itself was higher than most of the treeline in the oasis unless one looked outward toward the lake. The oasis was shaped somewhat like a bowl with the lake being the lowest part. The entire floor of the plateau was coated in the webbing that Serafim had seem periodically through the Oasis and it reached out into the treeline and in dense networks akin to power lines.

"Finally some company. Mr. Ashforth took off some time ago," said a soft albeit masculine voice. The source of which was found through a veil of silken drapes where a large majority of the massive silk conduits ran. Aegis walked forward fairly quickly through the drapes and motioned the other two to come along. Ismene was quick to oblige, tugging Serafim along in her usual manner. She was definitely quieter than usual, perhaps a side effect of her fatigue.

"The others will be here shortly. You should really see thi--" Weaver said, attempting to provide Aegis a bit of an update. To Aegis and even Ismene, the sight through the drapes was no surprise. To Serafim, it might just be. Weaver was no ordinary man or mage. His entire lower body past his human abdomen was that of a large spider with a glowing arachnoid abdomen. His skin seemed to have a shiny, stiff texture and be an off color. Many mages took on traits of animals if they used them in their magic, but Weaver was on a completely different level. He appeared closer to a Corrupted. He appeared some type of mutant. A monster. And, given the sheer amount of magic that was radiating off of his legs which themselves were each anchored to the floor inside massive bundles of silken thread, a powerful one.

"Save it. Ismene needs another treatment," Aegis said, cutting him off. From the very beginning, Aegis had a serious look on his face. And, Aegis had a face that even when serious, he was ready to throw down. One might say he wore his heart on his sleeve. Another might say he had the male equivalent of resting bitch face.

"Oh.. well, I suppose I'll have to fix that," he said in a still pleasant tone. Weaver extended out his hand and within in materialized a fairly small spider with no discernable traits beside another one that dwarfed it in size and was a light lavender color with thick, blue fur on its abdomen. Ismene walked forward quite casually and extended her hand for the smaller spider to jump onto before crawling up her arm. "I'm not sure if the concentration of magic in the area would have an effect on the treatments, but I'm quite sure the reunion has been exciting. Elevated heart rate and all sorts of things might have cut down how long it lasts," he explained. She nodded along. The smaller spider bit her forearm just enough to draw a slight amount of blood, then scurried back down to the larger one.

This was were the magic of Weaver really put him on another level in terms of utility. The larger spider literally consumed the smaller one and in just a few moments, began crawling onto the hand of Ismene. This time, instead of her letting it crawl, she placed it on her opposite shoulder and bunched up her muscle there, not unlike a how a nurse would when giving an injection. The spider retracted its fangs, but instead of just bearing down, its fangs split open to reveal two smaller sets of fangs that appeared more like stingers. These fangs quickly pushed into her flesh and into her muscle to deliver its venom. The whole process took less than a minute and afterward, the spider began to disperse into the same magical glow it materialized in. The change was nearly instant, however. What little color Ismene ever had returned and she ran back to her brother to embrace his arm in a way she hadn't since they first met.

"Now that that's done, I suppose proper introductions are in order," Weaver said as he looked over to Aegis. "They call me Orb Weaver, or just Weaver. I'm an Arachnid Mage by birth and a Biochemist by trade. Soon enough, you'll be meeting Shihan and Surgeon, the other members of the Plague Doctors. I'm sure you have questions about your sister and her condition and her treatments. What I can tell you is that the Surgeon found a way to use entirely organic methods to deliver her treatment using my spiders after some modification. The first spider tests her blood and the second formulates a venom based on it so she always gets the optimal dosage," Weaver explained. His voice was still oddly soft. Not to the point of being feminine, but almost as if he wasn't entirely matured. Comparable to a choir boy singing the highest octaves of hymns.

Arcanist · Oct 31, 2020

Agnes Fairhair

Mentions: - | Interactions: Adra (

Sybil )

Once Agnes had sunk the scalpel into the wound, it seemed to stitch up itself, the same golden glow that came from Hawkes's wavelength swirling around it. The majority of Agnes's work on that front was done, and all she could do was wait for it to finish its job. She noted the stare from Adra, clearly her coming around, but she also seemed focused on her. She couldn't help but stare back too, oddly unphased. She supposed it was because she was use to staring, to whispers, to trying to read other people's thoughts on their faces and in their eyes when she met them.

But she couldn't do it with Adra here. Was it because she was so unpredictable, that Agnes didn't and wouldn't ever know what her next action would be? Most likely, however, that was her role as a Meister. She had to deal with unpredictability.

Agnes finally disengaged the scalpel from Adra's shoulder, once the glow had all but started to dissipate. By then, Adra was beginning to come to, and Agnes got up from her knees, brushing the sand off her knees. Fucking sand, fucking desert, fucking programme. She wanted nothing but to return home and have a nice, long bath...

She glanced back to Adra again when she started speaking. Agnes narrowed her eyes, not out of spite or anger, but out of genuine curiosity. "Surprise you, huh..." She felt rather flattered. She had heard otherwise as of late. She noted that grin returning to her face again, that Adra truly was back to her old self -- whatever that really was. Agnes blew a strand of hair away from her eyes, spinning the scalpel between her fingers in some thought. "Well, we can sit here, mope, have a long and lengthy discussion about our pasts and how it's made us who we are today..." She looked back to Adra, pinching the scalpel between two fingers, and turning to her. "Or...we could actually do something. Find the others. Find out who those andra skit stövlar är*. Maybe even finish this programme and get out of here."

Agnes held out her hand to Adra to help her onto her feet. If she was willing to cooperate, and perhaps put behind the shitshow that had been happening, perhaps it would make for a good temporary pairing until they reunited with the group.

Sybil · Oct 31, 2020

Adrasteia Chandrice
"Whiplash"

The weapon watched the girl fiddle with the scalpel, her eyes bouncing between the blade's movement and the eyes of the meister as her attention span showed the shortness in a rather casual setting. The fight was over, over for them at least for the moment... and yet this girl wanted to dive back into it? After all that had happened? After surrendering to that doctor, she was going to just get up and move to the next?

"... I like it. Seems we have some semblance of a plan. Not that we need one. Just try to not hold me back, yeah?" She grinned wider, her hand grabbing Agnes' hand firmly and with a solid slap, pulling on their joined hands and leaping up and stepping past the Meister with a renewed life in her she hadn't shown since her first landing on the island. What was even rarer was the fact that Agnes would feel an opening with a spark. As the weapon stepped past her and her hair was just in her peripheral sight, they would both feel the unmistakable feeling of souls grazing.

Two souls open to the same wavelength, if even just for that moment due to a shared emotion or goal. While this feeling Agnes probably had little difficulty feeling when working with willing weapons, the soul of Adrasteia was like an ever-changing lock. Her toxic nature made her consciously turn her soul compatibility into a lock shifting, combining, and disassembling to confuse and separate those who would try to breach her. Despite that, the half a second of soul compatibility from the closeness was there before she let go of the girl's hand, letting out a silent breath to move on.

....souls are just fickle... no matter how hard I try to control it, sometimes this shit is still subconscious huh... interesting.

"..... So, where are we headed? Lead the way, we just might have to kick some ass or bail some idiots." She seemed to not address the feeling directly, instead offering the original topic before that split second distraction had caused the delay.

Location: Dall Island Oasis
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