Fandom Soul Eater: F.A.T.E

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
​

Listening to what was said, her look of pure aggression softened somewhat, though she remained guarded, as she listened to all the woman, no, this golem... No... Was that even right? Her existence was something not so easily quantified. She was little more than a biological weapon, stripped of will and made into a slave. A slave aware of their situation and given independent thought. No, that wasn't fully true was it? They had personality, abilities, other sorts of oddities, that she seen from the mage killer, Midori, and now this Lady Crimson. But they all had one thing, even Midori she was sure if not for the actions of the DWMA, a compulsion to follow the man and carry out all his commands. They were slaves with "free will" unable to even see their free will was a lie.

But was free will event true to begin with, or were we all creatures of our environment, of chaos and order? As she debated that internally, the later words to be spoken by the woman, or perhaps the other, some of them put her back into a sour mood. As dense seemingly as always, it was the mention of her Master, no, who she truly seen as her mother that got to her. While not yet going to the angered looks she had with the Lizard as she thought of the mage killer, it was more closely tied to her guarded look from earlier, as if to say she was tired of all this shit. Still Maria was always willing to speak with another, provided the conversation interested her. Though she was not so self-absorbed to not address the rest of what was said, for the most part.

"Hmm... But why give a golem aging? That only makes your utility and use limited to your lifespan, even if it would be unnaturally long. Though I suppose that is reason enough, makes them easier to dispose of.... Still, to be found as the most interesting, I suppose I am honored." She said, tipping her dress in a curtsey before continuing, "My creations are born of wood, but shaped to the smallest detail of articulation, without the weaknesses or oddities of the flesh, and given some other trade secrets of my own, take my dearest Alicia." With that she motioned with a free hand, connecting wires from her silver rings to the battle damaged Golem that stood before the group, rather than go for it's weapons, as some may fear, it placed its hands upon its dress, curiously shutting its eyes as its grim smiling face, before giving a curtsey as well, then full flowing movements of its hands and arms, before going back to its silent vigil as the wires disconnect. "There are improvements to still be made and other projects aside... As to stripping away ones titles, I am a Sorceress, not a Witch, though, much like your friend I doubt that distinction matters much, given I am only different in a couple aspects from them.

And if you know who my mother, or rather my Master is, Mirai of the Black Workshop, then you already know I must decline this offer. Though short of my loyalties and wishing to see Man and Mage co-existing in peace this arrangement is one built on blind faith... You are little more than a slave, even if a highly valuable and well-constructed one. You cannot guarantee anything, should your master suddenly go "Why did you bring her here? Kill her at once." Then you would have no choice but to oblige. Not to mention your lizard shape shifting friend would be out to kill me at worst and making me unwelcome at best.

Your Lord Eros also got to where he is with the blood of many witches upon his hands, and his new path in life came about as he could not accept the new peace. I have little reason to accept an invitation offered in the moment in the hopes that one who I see as counter to my own existence would like me as an apprentice, more so in regard to my Mother as you put it."

She then ventured another step, perhaps a step too far she smiled. "While he has produced results. I wish to create an Autonomous Doll, with its own soul and its own life. Not from stolen souls, not from defiled corpses, not from the betrayed and the demented, turned into biological monstrosities in the pursuit of unknown and selfish goals. Should I follow him, then the world most turn on me or I am in the direst of situations, having lost my mind, having lost my magic, and having lost my science. And if anything, if I followed you now, I would betray him in an attempt to wrest away control of your souls and see his madness cast down and emancipation being given to you all, even if you used it to kill me later. As I'm afraid our visions for the future and our values on human life, which already put me apart from most of my own kind, just are not compatible.

It's truly a shame we could not have this talk over some tea. I might even have made a plushy of you in another life."

Interactions: Sir Les Paul (Lady Crimson)

Mentions: EmperorsChosen (Elly) Sir Les Paul (Midori) The Regal Rper (Zosar) Haze- (Wren)

 

[Merciless Medic]

Michael M. Moreau​

---

Mission: Disturbance in Qena w/ RedArmyShogun

Sir Les Paul Peckinou Mook-LandStrider Shotgunpenguin EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper

Date: September 20th, 2067
Location: Eastern Shrine, Qena, Egypt

---

Moreau watched as Gauss gave his orders, and asked for Moreau to choose once Ark made a map. He raised an eyebrow, but thought it was a good idea. Though, he wasn’t sure if he was able to determine anything as of yet, so he waited for Ark. Meanwhile, he chewed on the question Ark gave about Ismael. “He’s a researcher and a trusted one at that. I was even a tomb raider in a group with him a long time ago.” When Ark brought the map up, he hummed as he took in the information given to him. He hummed, listening to what Wes had to say, his hand over his mustache.

“If you guys think that’s the best thing to do, then I won’t tell you no. But my only concern is that the Anpu would try to do something with it that put us in jeopardy.” Then he chuckled. “No, we won’t be splitting. That never became an option when we entered the dig.”

He then looked over where the path led to the west, where the blood letter was found. “Let’s go here.”

Peeking through the open door, there were quite a few shambling undead stuck and unmoving. Upon closer inspection, bits of the floor had given way and he sighed. “Well, we found our first trap: pitfalls. There’s also some undead here, but they seem to be actually dead. Nothing wrong with double tapping the ones we can reach. If you go in there, don’t go any further than those corpses. The flooring might crumble.”

He waited for anyone to go in and take care of the undead.

Ahead, the floor look dilapidated after the corpses, lines showing erosion or maybe it was purposeful to hide the danger underneath. A series of broken flooring opened to a few fifteen-foot tall holes. At the bottom of these are other undead, also unmoving, but it’s unknown whether these have been there before or if they were Evans’ hapless quarry. Other holes will have an almost oddly shimmering sheen covering the floor of these holes.

Ark would have been able to sense the presence of not only the chambers with his seismic sense, but he would be able to sense the magic within the shimmering floor in these holes. Wes should be able to hear the shimmering floor click not unlike a bug.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Sara Middleton​

Date: September 19, 2067
Location: South Central Avenue, Downtown Los Angeles, California
Interactions: Eva, Nadia, Dani, Adrian, Raph
Mentions: N/A
Mook-LandStrider RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

Wait, what?

The entire area smelled like rotten eggs, and she saw so many people staring at her. Her ears pinned back. What did she do? All she wanted to do was protect people!

The surprise that the civilians would even draw their weapons had her realizing just what kind of stupid mistake she made. Her intentions? Still good. But horrible execution. She should’ve just waited for Nadia to continue with whatever stupid plan she had, but she doubted these guys would even feel fear that isn’t using Dani as a cross against a demon.

Sara sent her wavelength to Eva to be amplified before she charged at the civilians , smashing one over the head with the lantern flail and kicking out to swipe two cilivians’ heads to knock them out. Grabbing a plate in the same movement, she smashed it across the head of the last cop at the table and dove under the table. Some of the bullets grazed her skin, but thankfully due to training she was able to react just quickly enough not to do something about it.

She heard Nadia over the comms, but didn’t care she was called mutt. She’s been called far worse.

She didn’t know what to do now that she just cornered herself under a table, but she did find a few people pulling out melee weapons. She charged at one in a blur to smash the lantern flail against his legs, staying low to the ground so she wasn’t continuously peppered with gunfire and so she could find other cover.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Raphael Valerias​

Date: September 19, 2067
Location: South Central Avenue, Downtown Los Angeles, California
Interactions: Sara, Eva, Nadia, Dani, Adrian
Mentions: N/A
Mook-LandStrider RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

Raphael could not believe the issue they had just walked in on. And he just jailed his buddies here. Groaning, he dove for cover, thankful nobody started firing at him first and using his Grimoire to find a spell that would be useful here. Given a command from Nadia to grab the weapons then get the three people who are not evil. There was a group of people that were directly in front of his position, so he used his entrapment spell, anchor runes appearing beneath them before chains suddenly sprout off the ground to grab their limbs and pull them to the side, making them stumble or fall.

Moving over and using them as meat shields, he grabbed one of their pistols and held it properly as he had to work his way towards the vendors. He saw Nadia pretty much just throw someone towards the shotgunner. Sliding quickly towards the vendor, he created another entrapment spell, the anchor runes appearing around the stalls and its people before attempting to lock the people’s limbs against the food stalls.

He then rolled around to the side of the stall, using it as cover from other gunfire as he readied the pistol and wondered if he'd be a crack shot at it or not.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Adrian Hackney​

"The Maiden"​

Species Human
Partner None
Rank Fate Agent

Location Downtown LA, California
Mission Return of the Stalker
Status Alert

​

Tags: Merciless Medic RedArmyShogun Mook-LandStrider EmperorsChosen

A lot occurred within a short period of time. Quite frankly, Adrian was dumbfounded that Sara even remotely considered that a good idea.

Despite the chaos that was swirling around them, the only real thought Adrian had at the moment was the legality of Sara announcing they were LAPD. Factually, they were not LAPD. They were DWMA Agents doing a ride-along. Would that be construed as impersonating a police officer? Were they about to get arrested after fighting these guys? Surely not. Still, the thought waltzed through his brain whilst the gunfire rained down around them.

Being that Adrian was originally the furthest from the front due to his positioning with Raph, he wasn't in immediate danger. This afforded him a brief window to observe what was going on around them. If Sara had dug the hole they were in, Raph brought the nails for their coffins. At the very least, both of them bounced back adequately. Raph elected to use bodies as human shields, which was slightly detestable in its own right. Sara jumped into melee, but did very little to actually halt the gunfire. Nadia took out two conspirators at the stand, eliminating them for whatever reason. Adrian hadn't seen that they had more dangerous weapons.

What did see, however, was that these fuckers realized how quickly they were outmatched real fast. Sure, Sara might have taken some bullet grazing here and there. A flail was a hard weapon to deflect bullets with. But, overall, she was fine. Raph might sore if his body shield got hit, but again, fine. And, Nadia looked like she could deflect small arms fire like Neo, from the Matrix video games. They remade that franchise into a VR-RPG some time ago and it gained traction.

If all of them decided to run, there were enough that some may escape due to the sheer numbers.

Adrian transformed his arms into the open doors of his Maiden and rushed over to Raph, deciding that fucking idiot might actually have the utility to help out here--if he timed it right. Had he done this stunt half a year ago, Nadia and Sara might have ended up with a few additional holes. Regardless of the what ifs and possibilities, Adrian had conviction in his decisions. He would defend Raph and see if the chain sorcerer could actually do his job.

As stood, eight of the mystery murderers had themselves been murdered, leaving a little over half. Most of whom were determine to just run the fuck away. It seemed these animals weren't quite cornered yet and given that their initial fighting response failed, their flight response kicked in.

["Fuckhead, try your magic shit now. I won't let your ass get riddled with holes," Adrian instructed, though vague in his meaning. Truth here was that he actually didn't know what if anything Raph could do with his chains, he was just pretty sure whatever it was would be more than what he could do with his spikes.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Ao Mitsuki​

"Lady Crimson / Songbird"​

Species Human (Golem)
Partners Roland, Pensri, Phawta
Rank Three Star-Star

Location Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
Mission Assassination of a Stein
Status Neutral, frustrated

​

Tags: The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Haze-

"Well... you certainly know how to sour a mood..." Lady Crimson replied, a dull type of disappointment laden in her tone.

"Perhaps it's best you just stay right where you are and keep that tea warm," she added, transitioning away from Maria with a dismissive, almost awkward, attempt to get away from the woman. She talked a lot. A lot in sequence. There was nothing really fun about what she said, either; it was just dull drabble, fact or not. It seemed that Sorceress had no idea how to live in the moment. Which was quite counterintuitive to what many Witches did. In the experience of Lady Crimson, plenty of Witches were creatures of impulse.

It really was too bad... but, much like she had little respect for Elly with her grand goal of self-preservation, she had little respect for Maria when she did nothing but spew logic in the fact of interesting, even if menial, conversation.

Elly was no fun. Maria turned out to be no fun. Two checks out of three. Perhaps her final chance at an escape from the banality that was her life would spark something entertaining.

"Don't worry, 'Dori, I'll get to you in a moment... I can see your soul over there is getting all antsy. Ten shades of green over miss Maria, and she probably doesn't even know why," Lady Crimson announced, really openly as she didn't even bother to look over to Midori upon speaking to him. She was clearly done with Maria. For all that Maria said and as many tethers to conversation that were there, not even one of them ultimately interested her, or created an opening for her actual goal.

Lady Crimson redirected her attention to Wren and Zosar. She approached them not unlike she approached Maria earlier, with confidence and conviction in her stride. Yet, somehow, not a care in the world. No guard, her body language open; it was difficult from outward appearances to truly believe she was a threat. One might even call it arrogant, if it weren't so warranted. Though, rude nonetheless that she simply left Maria hanging there and continued to put Midori on pause. Her mean girl, boss bitch attitude seethed out into almost every action she took at this point.

"And, to answer your question, no, honey, I wouldn't wait ten seconds just to belittle Midori, let alone ten minutes," she explained, though the answer oddly seemed more like a contrarian shot at Midori again.

"Let me explain something to you," she said, slowing her approach if only to make it more dramatic, and add in time for her short little soliloquy.

"I wasn't the target of Lord Eros. I was a happy little accident. All he wanted was the Hoshi to sneak back into the DWMA..."

"...in the beginning, I was just a disposable little thing, you see. He didn't even name me. I wasn't Ao or Whistle or Lady Crimson; I was Songbird. Ao was dead, just like Midori was. But, I hadn't apparently earned a new name yet, so I picked one."

She then stopped entirely, popping out her hip to wrest her hand on it, then tilting her head over just slightly to let her hair fall. "At least the Sorceress over there gave her doll a name. I had earn one," she told them.

"I didn't get some fancy new body like Roya did, either. I didn't get gifted some new skills, either; I had to work and train for it all," she told them.

"So, yeah, when I'm belittling Midori, do forgive me for venting my frustration about the fact his last name let him sit on his ass at the DWMA feeling sorry for himself while I trained relentlessly to survive missions I was meant to die on."

Her eyes fluttered for just a moment before she decided to take a deeper look at Wren. Zosar, she had no interest in. Zosar was just as fucking bad as Midori, really. The man that couldn't figure out all his trials and tribulations were nothing compared to what real struggle was like. Life or death because there no alternative. A self-fulfilling prophecy of a man playing a victim over a Robin Hood-esque life he chose, and the struggles he had with his merry, little men. From what she knew and she saw, Zosar was responsible for the vast majority of fuck-ups in his own life. Really, a fitting friend for Midori. The man that had no idea how good he had it.

The man who benefited from nepotism even in death. Even beyond it, as a golem. They were both men that had no idea how good they actually had it because they were too self-absorbed with their bruised egos and hero complexes.

She didn't that in Wren, though. No. That girl had a profound soul. Cutem Clan meant the traces of werewolf lineage could be seen ever so slightly in her human form. Capacitor Soul, making her entire wavelength uniform and he reserves large. It was more than that, though. She had a hunger. A yearning. A fight within her that wasn't just some bestial nature, but of one that struggled. The girl was a survivor. She had to have seen some shit in her life.

"You know what that's like, don't you?" she asked pointedly, specifically targeting Wren with this set of questions. "To survive against all odds, I mean," she added, fleshing out her question. It was really an assumption. A shot in the dark. She could be wrong. After all, interpreting a soul wasn't an exact science. There was always room for error.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | Hallerbos Forest, Belgium

In a way it was odd. She sort of reminded him of Becky. The way in which she held herself especially.

To summarize, as she responded to Elly and pointedly silenced Midori, if they showed even an ounce of aggression towards her, they would have been or would be dead.

Cool, good to know where the limits are.

He was relieved that Wren didn't goad Ao choosing instead to ask a rather sensible question she was clearly ignoring. Though, he wondered if it would get addressed later.

She had silenced Midori with ease and was focusing far more on the others than him. It was pretty clear she hadn't been waiting on only him then as had been their presumption, perhaps she had truly been waiting to see how they had survived Royal.

He didn't really care that she was focusing on the girls, he didn't even move when she came closer to eyeball Wren. Though his eyes followed her to a tee. Even if she had moved unnecessarily close to lay it on with his Weapon partner like how she was doing with Maria, inserting himself between that wasn't a smart idea. He knew this sort of game well, if he had reacted even a little she could have taken that as an excuse to ice him. Her statements weren't the end all to consider. She had autonomy. She could kill them if she just suddenly felt like it.

Then again, with how she looked, it might have been comedic if she killed him for his current state. Probably wouldn't have gotten even a word in for how it was her psychotic partner in crime’s fault.

The question that really made his ears hone in was the question of Maria coming along.

It was such a strange but interesting offering. Eros trying to further his expansion, after just catching Astila?

If she gave Ao the green light, stopping her would be akin to slowing down Ao or trying to stop her from returning, anything they did to stop someone deciding to go with her that she had agreed to take would be an obstacle, that immediately sealed their fate by extension. He doubted Maria would, but he had to consider the moot possibility.

There was however, some nuggets of information to take from this. Nothing useful but better than zero. Stating the only one she didn't have info on except Wren for instance.

There was no way to confirm that but going off it…

So Eros had moles. That was a given for him to be capable of what he was doing, it made sense. Ao knew something about all of them, or at least what DWMA had on them, as far as the main base was concerned it seemed. If she didn't have info on Wren then Eros intel didn't extend across multiple branches, this was all hypothesis though. Wren was from the Western European branch that, so despite Wren’s transfer she didn't know much about her. Not even he knew that much aside from her tranafer being due to that unfortunate incident that got her in FATE. Unless it was a lie, something he didn't doubt as a possibility.

Instead of approaching Midori she had turned to Maria, was she singling them out one by one?

With Wren beside him, all he had to do was bump his bare exposed arm into her shoulder to establish a link. The situation at the moment was also proving to be the perfect distraction for his wounds.

Still though he went for it. ‘If she does come here to chat it up with you, remember, right here beside you.’ He knew how unnerved she had been, prociding that ounce of reassurance even if it was fruitless was a better psychological boost than just adding the fact his presence didn't matter.

She didn't need to be reminded that. She needed to remember she wasn't alone.

That message was barely a second in time as Maria's reply came. Which drew him in if only for the fact of what it revealed both about her and how she saw this whole little meeting.

“Cute, smart and spunk, haha, well I'm not surprised there.”

Her ultimate goal however was certainly a feature. Akin to the security golems of DWMA if his understanding was correct. Her undermining of Eros wasn't surprising, Maria approached the conversation with logical reasons but it was quite clear that Ao wasn't interested in that in her demeanor. She was looking for something here, and he wasn't sure what it was.

So it was less surprising when Crimson’s growing disinterest reached a peak and she disengaged at the end of Maria's spiel.

Was it plain curiousity? He had to believe it was a motivation. He may not have been an expert in magic but he knew some general details. It was more educational to watch the exchange if anything. This was another reason he had come. To be an observer. It was clear Ao had information on most of them, knew who they were even before they introduced themselves. So it was clear she could form her own opinions on who actually interested her. That was when she turned her attention to them. And that's when he caught it again.

She wasn't actually looking at him. In fact just like when they had arrived she was pointedly glossed over him. It was subtle, but not enough for him to miss it.

He had plenty of experience being looked over, knew a few people he had been on teams with as an Enlightener and in DWMA that had behaved quite similar enough for it to strike out to him in the passing moment, and he found it if anything, interesting.

She kept shutting Midori down and if he was starting to get a glimpse of what Lady Crimson was abkutnit was because she was more interested in seeing who Midori hung around with than immediately airing out their dirty laundry.

Even her answer was something along the lines of a confirmation. She hadn't been waiting really for just Midori. She had been waiting to see if anyone would be with him.

Sure, as a kid he might have been irritated at being glossed over, but he had grown far more than his twelve year old self. For most that might have been rude, insulting even and had this been a more formal or agreed upon get together he might have said something but this wasn't that kind of get together, so all it really did was make him consider the variables as to why.

He could feel it even without needing Perception. Midori wasn’t someone she wanted to jump right too, and he certainly wasn't either.

If Ao knew what DWMA knew and knew that he had essentially sabotaged himself to end up where he was presently than the conclusions she would make would no doubt be similar. As she spoke in explanation it became increasingly clear even that there was resentment towards Midori even, for his status, something he was born into, and that he had a strong feeling, would also be projected on him.

He had heard it all. He was a crook, deceiver, traitor, two bit criminal that had gotten full of himself and taken a dumb risk hoping to seek some rewards, had been told multiple times by others as he finished his general education while under survey, that he was getting exactly what he deserved and it was a blessing DWMA Intel had discovered the truth before he could pull something truly nefarious, he had heard argumenta from his former friends trying to vouch for him just to have those illusions broken down when he spoke the truth, he had seen and heard every version of every view in two years, and since he had gotten back was seeing how far those views could push people when a few started picking fights.

Whatever Ao’s view would be wouldn't bother him, he had accepted it from day one when he went into that hospital. There was no reason to feel sorry for himself when he had put himself in the situation.

If he felt sorry about anything, it was letting himself get caught and not being skillful enough to assist Sting and Zodiac’s team without having to rely on the full destructive power of his soul. If he had been as good as Kenny or as lucky rather, he would have been able to help the Elite One Star team dispatch the Corrupted Soul without resorting to that last ditch move. After all, no one needed to tell him he reaped what he had sowed. He knew that already.

Repeating it to him was just plain annoying.


That was the key difference between Midori and him, Midori had ties to DWMA, he had none. And that was the key point Crimson was pointing out. Midori had been picked precisely because of that bloodline, she had just been collateral and then left to do or die.

What a way to live for five years. No wonder he had felt like there was something to the way she kept taking shots at him.

Having ties to powerful names in the DWMA was a game changer. When you were blood it was different.

He knew that for a fact. it was why he had made popularity his focus. Through that he had met the grandchildren of multiple legends. The Evans, the Star clan, and through Stinger, the Eclair, among others. Those links were all burned now. Eros chose wisely.

He imagined if someone like him had been picked, someone with no links in the chain, even more someone easily disposable, life under Eros' would have been similar but different as life as an Enlightener. Fighting for rewards and recognition back then wasn't a cake walk. As the numbers had grown in the company, so had the ability for his specialized training time diminished in length to a tight schedule.

If he had slacked, he was out. Except instead of getting pushed to the next phase of training to be better, it was a token award at extending your own life. He had been on plenty of missions where he could have died and hadn't.

Thing was, he had accepted every single one knowing the risk. Just like the one that got him here.

Wren being the focus of such a question, didn't escape Zosar. He knew why she was in FATE he didn't know anything else more. Ao felt they shared something here clearly.

Had she been lying about what she knew?

“You’re not about to tell us in your last life you were also a bad ass in your field like her, are you?” he said it aloud, there was a new curiosity in his voice even though he was still touching her to just ask through link. Doing that though could have been rude given the timing of Ao’s sincere question and Wren’s reaction to it had he done that

It may have sounded like a joke but he also wasn't joking. Not much at least. He was genuinely interested.

There were plenty of experienced people in the corporation that weren't just from DWMA before he had left. Some.were thugs, people that had turned to crime and crossed paths with the Enlighteners and then, bizarrely, recruited. One of them was Ithuriel. Not every criminal was irredeemable.

It was the ones that savored what they did that were.

He hadn't ever met him but he knew from word of mouth he was lethal and extremely good.

And this was where being taller gave him the advantage to give Wren a rather curious stare, albeit a somewhat distant one that was neither cold or warm.

“You know what she's talking about Wren?” he pressed, though it wasn't in any intense or forceful way it was actually said with a degree of tact and gentleness not quite expected in the moment.

Partners after all were to share everything they could to be stronger. He wasn't going to press her to share more, in fact his wording here was to give Wren a way of shortening her answer. A simple yes might have been enough but he was pretty certain with this topic a simple yes wouldn’t be enough, and if what Ao had just said about living on the edge of life and death were true every day, then all this really did was give him greater insight into her Madness.

If Wren felt anything despite the way he was looking at her, it was a sense of reassuring calm he was projecting. He couldn't say it, but he didn't want her to dig into something that might actually trigger her Madness, hunger as it's root, memories tied to stress could have an effect. If she didn't want to talk about it, he wouldn't say it but he certainly was trying his best to project a supportive aura spiritually even if he was also asking the same question.

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen

Interactions: Haze- Sir Les Paul

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Eloise Keegan - Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Elly watched the exchange take place. She wasn't sure what to expect from this, which made her nerves run all the more high. The woman carried herself with such nonchalance at all this. That was what made this strenuous. All the praise and pedestals Midori placed Ao on painted a picture of a poor woman acting out against her will, which was true at least in part, though one would expect someone in such a situation to be far more pessimistic about their circumstances. Certainly, Ao was, but not so much so to throw a few flirtatious remarks and try to pick up some women in what was now a graveyard of her own creation.

Perhaps the former monster hunter didn't want to kill them. However, did that refer to apathy or aversion? Elly currently leaned toward the former. The woman even called her boring, seemingly for not being comfortable enough to run her mouth freely.

"How kind..." Elly mused as the woman explained she more or less bribed her partners with a favor.

As the woman spoke, Elly only continued to feel this was a more poor idea than even she already believed. Ao spoke of Astilla as if she were chicken scratch. Speaking of her "perfect body", Elly failed to observe any obvious wounds. It was that one-sided.

Waiting patiently for the woman to lay it on rather thick, Maria began to run her mouth, making Elly worry slightly, though it seemed to do nothing but eliminate any interest the red-head had. Maria made several points Elly herself thought of, but unlike the dollmaker, Elly had enough of a mind to not risk making such blatant statements against her. The woman's ability to age, her believe that she would be able to safeguard anyone, just to namea couple. Wren, too, brought up a point. She waited for a reason, though thus far she had only swayed her hips, fraternized with a few, given them more or less information they already knew or could surmise, and in fact chastise Midori. Surely this interaction wasn't meant to be that shallow.

Elly used her soul perception, trying to get a read of the woman's emotions as she spoke. Flutterings of irritation were there, as did her soul occasionally droop in disappointment.

The woman set her sights on Wren next, giving some insight into her backstory. So she was meant to die while Midori infiltrated, yet she managed to turn herself into a treasured subordinate. Elly could understand the woman's frustration, as in link how the woman came to hold that irritation. As far as logic went, there wasn't much. Midori didn't have any more will or power than she did. He wasn't even let in that some small piece of Ao was melded into even a throwaway pawn. Eros set the trap, had them killed and turned them to slaves, so the target of ire should clearly be him, if anyone.

Then again, Midori insisted they come here in the first place. Perhaps they really were partners with all that emotion on their sleeves, sapping away rationale.

More than anything though, he cemented Elly's previous belief. Whoever this was, she was not Ao.

"I do hope you didn't, instead, wait 10 minutes just to swipe left on everyone still breathing," Elly commented as the red-head stared down Wren. Her words lacked Elly's typical cadence and were rather dry and neutral, in no small part due to the current situation. She was fine being boring if boring was synonymous with breathing. "Even if you don't shoot us with an arrow, we may very well be dead from the suspense at this rate."

RedArmyShogun Haze- Sir Les Paul The Regal Rper

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
​

"Oh my. It seems I showed my true interests. How very unfortunate. I'm so, very, very, sorry." With a smile plastered across her face it begged the question from Maria's other interactions with people, was she always aware or dense? She was no doubt self-absorbed or cared about her craft more than anything else. While she had friends or would do things she was not used to, Maria knew by and large what the woman had wanted it seemed and had purposefully shut it down. Or she was simply that angry with Eros, what he had done, made and was. Still the woman had not bothered countering a single one of her claims.

If she had accepted power, for powers sake alone, she had little doubt Eros would have had her killed or forced into being an unwilling accomplice in his activities. Though, she wasn't too far off from the Chaotic and Whimsical nature of most witches, just of another persuasion. Who were often given to destruction and pleasure being the focus of what they did and so always veered into degeneracy and often the Death of the Witch at the hands of another. Be it Witch or DWMA when their hedonistic acts caught up with them. Maria's own Master would dress provocatively but was rather grounded in her pursuit of knowledge and cooperation with man. In general, the Witches that seemed to Govern were calmer and less passionate beings. Maria herself had very little interest in the pleasures of life as some may term them.

That wasn't to say Maria had not picked up other activities, such as Dance, or listening to records and chatting with Nadia, or as recently the games with Dani. But more of she did not seek out thrills or greater pleasures over the previous. Such a way of thinking would lead no place good and was why Maria held herself to being superior to her destruction minded Kin. But most importantly, though not hostile, though not willing, this woman was the Enemy. And Maria feared she was only buying time for the Lizard to return, something she was passively channeling Mana throughout her body in preparation for sudden spell casting.


Interactions: Sir Les Paul (Lady Crimson)

Mentions: EmperorsChosen (Elly) Sir Les Paul (Midori) The Regal Rper (Zosar) Haze- (Wren)

 

[Haze-]

Wren
Hallerbos Forest, Belgium​

Her skin went tight the moment she felt Crimson’s eyes on her, like she were a fine cut of meat on display.

She knew when someone was making a pass at her, and the feeling alone made goosebumps break out all the way to her tail. Wren didn’t know if it was the pressure of her stare in of itself, or the sheer absurdity of the fact she’d come onto two of their five man. Something about it— just thinking about the twenty or so dead agents tossing and turning in their graves watching them— made a nasty clutch twist in her stomach.

It ripped through her like a bullet.

One corner of her mouth quirked to a fake half-smirk, awkward, putting a herculean effort just to hold it. Even still, the feeling was fleeting, just as fast as it’d come, it went. Or rather, she’d quieted it down quick enough.

Once the redhead turned her interest to Maria, had her eyes off them, Wren chuckled faintly.

Zosar would’ve felt two bumps on the shoulder, a nudge from her elbow. If he dared turn to it, he would’ve caught sight of Wren waggling her eyebrows at him, with a big, toothy, idiot grin plastered on her face. Droopy, smug expression, pointing a thumb at Ao’s back — 'She wants me~' — She spoke through their link.

If this didn’t make it clear for Zosar that Wren used to be the class clown back in her day, then there was no telling what would. He could still feel that edge on her, tangible, just from their resonance alone relaying it to him, but on the outside— it was almost as if she was just too good at hushing it.

Made you wonder for how long she’d been doing it.

It took a one-sided conversation for crimson to lose interest in the ‘most interesting one,’ now her eyes were back on them. Wren’s face slowly softened, tensing less and less to a lopsided grin, donning thoughtful eyes. Half in understanding to what she’d laid out on them all of a sudden, half in dejection to her harshness towards Midori.

There wasn’t anything she, a total stranger, could do to defend him. After all, it was his trouble. He had to speak up at some point; Wren could only hope that being around his teammates would up his spirits.

Her hands had gone to her pockets once Zosar interjected with his own intrigue. She scoffed, only glancing at him. Her eyes came back to find Ao’s — “You must be one hell of an empath…to be able to tell all of that just from a glance.”

“In my own way, I suppose I do.” — She told her — "‘Only the strong survive,’ no other choice, right?”

'If you really want to know…' — Wren tapped a foot on Zosar’s, anchoring it. Keeping their link up to speak to him there. There was no need for Ao to know everything about her, but she was comfortable enough to finally lay some of it on Zosar. After all, it’d been two weeks already.

They needed to air out some ghosts if they really wanted to be connected.

“Though, you’ll be disappointed, really…” — One hand came up from her pocket, mindlessly scratching at one side of her neck. A pause, a smile before she continued — “We’re not the same, if that’s what you were trying to get at.”

'I was born without a name, without a home— and if I did have any of those things, I must’ve been too wet behind the ears to remember them. Even the name I have now, it’s not mine. Didn’t choose it either.'

“I guess you could reach and say that we both wear the same,” — That they reeked of the scent, both of them, the stench of the death sentenced — “But from what you’ve told here, you survived stepping on corpses— bare fists and white knuckles, like in one of those old underdog melodramas. I've never had enough muscle to do so.”

“You couldn’t expect some malnourished, annoying little mutt like me to be that cool, I guess. I just ran faster than everyone else.”

'I remember my first name starting on a vowel. Sometimes I like to think it’s something pretty like ‘Elana’ or ‘Alessa’, something that rolls hard off the tongue. I lived in the apartment my parents had abandoned for a good two to three weeks, until they kicked me out. I was up in the wind for years after, moving from corner to corner.'

“Hell, I could’ve probably ran you better than poor Astilla back in my prime.”

'I settled at some nasty old man’s place somewhere down the line. It was…nice. At the time it was, I suppose. He made me into a dope peddler, ‘least the one that defends the people pushin’ the stuff, the enforcer. Taught me how to really drain the pockets of the people out in the streets— dish a beating. We survived together, and I was using him just as much as he was using me for his own benefit. I believe I was, it’s hard to remember…'

“So, no, I don’t really see myself up there with you on that pedestal, Rossa.”

'That life is behind me. I don’t keep it on my chest.'

“You’re a real survivor.” — Her tone didn’t make it sound like anything other than a genuine compliment. A light, easy smile played on her lips for a moment, a hitch made the wind whisk her words away, something else she wanted to say, lost under her breath. She shook her head instead, huffing a sigh.

“Though, that’s enough sob stories…You never really answered my question, y’know?” — Wren tilted her head, puzzled — “Why did you wait here to talk to us?”

'You know the rest. I…bit the hand that fed me. When I wasn’t trying to. Now I’m here making conversation with a mass murderer.'

“Were you really that bored?” — She chuckled, bringing a hand up to cover a short, honest fit of laughter — “If so, I know this killer place back home. Nice food, good people. I can take you out if you want to, just ask for the ten digits.”

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen
Interactions: The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Daniella Ethalyn - Streets of LA
​

Everything was turning into Chaos. Just pure Chaos. All because of that one weakness. Now after catching a few grazes and hiding under a table, the wolf was being a little useful in regard to the melee fighters.

Her plan to strike fear into them with a show of force, to kill those who were immediate threats was even now unraveling and the whole neighborhood for miles around would hear the symphony of gunfire in the short and brutal engagement. At this rate minus the knocked-out ones who might not cooperate, would take time to convenience, provided the two in her ranks with misplaced morals didn’t prevent her questioning in the first place. They had no reason to fear the LAPD, but they knew when they were outmatched.

‘A good commander sticks to a plan, the clever one improvises as needed.’

‘I think the original plan is going smooth. They’re scared shitless,’ Dani commented disinterestedly, noting that the suspects had swapped from trigger-happy to routing in a matter of seconds. ‘So, how’re we improvising?’

‘It is not smooth, they are afraid of the difference in power, but not you as a demon. So we shall play a bit of cat and mouse.’

Speaking quietly into her comm unit, and hoping the enemy did not hear of it, “Adrian. Raph, and Sara, I want the wards down and traps pulled back from the Eastern, make the failure look natural or that you are pushed back. The Dog’s LAPD impersonation may serve to give us incompetence they can keep believing in. I’m going to burn several of them, make it look like they barely escaped with their own talents. Sara you will use your nose and tell me if they split up or if a group stays together, stay ahead of them, if your dear pure soul wants to save a hostage should they take one, then do so.. Do not hinder me again. I am the chaser, you shall tell me what is along where they run. I shall burn the hides of a few. Adrian and Raph work together in getting the weapons away from them, bind the knocked-out ones, tell the LAPD and then chase, it should only put you a minute or two behind me, five at most. I'd rather have two.”

‘They’ve hardly seen the demon,’ Dani remarked pointedly as Nadia gave her commands. The sword wasn’t very keen on burnt flesh, but she wasn’t going to feel too sorry about these people either. ‘Man, you really are pulling a Batman…’ She further mused.

‘Well, you adjust the flames for what you like through me then. And Hmph, as if you never hunted something that needed to fear you.’

‘I’ll put on a show… and I have, but I haven’t let people run to catch them later…’ Dani admitted, which was likely fair. If the pink-haired weapon wanted to hunt anyone, she wasn’t likely to do anything less than chase them.

‘It is a hard, violent work task for us, I’ll cheer you up somehow, maybe a group thing, Adrian has done well so far.’ “Now.” Rising to feet after a few dodges and blade slaps, she did pretty much what Adrian had believed her able to do as she took Dani in hand and sparked and scraped all across the ground, calling out loudly. “The LAPD Brought in some hired hands. Heh.” She said loudly and clearly. “Open season for you weaklings.” Throwing herself into the midst of them, dodging bullets or deflecting them, her grin was wide, as the fire and scorpion tail slung about.

With the provided efforts, this would cut numbers down and hopefully they were all stupid to run right for the big guys..

‘Oooh, was that praise for my boyfriend? Can’t believe he’s finally growing on you,’ Dani remarked with a light snicker before addressing her concern. ‘I’m fine. Let’s go.’ And with that, the Demon Sword channeled the flames to flicker and rise to accompany Nadia’s theatrics, sputtering more violently as the pair encroached on the would-be victims.

Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Dani) Sir Les Paul (Adrian) Merciless Medic (Sara - Raph) Mook-LandStrider (Eva)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Ao Mitsuki​

"Lady Crimson / Songbird"​

Species Human (Golem)
Partners Roland, Pensri, Phawta
Rank Three Star-Star

Location Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
Mission Assassination of a Stein
Status Intrigued,

​

Tags: The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Haze-

Now this was the type of response Ao was after. A multi-faceted glimpse of humanity, layers of meaning between the sentences, a personal response over things that most would find small and insignificant. Wren and for that fact everyone there might not have not known it, but all it truly took to satisfy her was a simple, genuine conversation.

A conversation, though, was only as interesting as the person having it. It seemed Midori surrounded himself with these one-note figures housing bland personalities. His own partner had little more to her than that pathetic drive to survive. The Sorceress seemed so promising, but she was a slave to her own loyalties. Her goals might have interested others, but Ao already knew a man capable of giving an inanimate object a soul. The nuanced difference in what Maria wanted and what Eros did mattered very little to Ao. In fact, it seemed like such a pointless goal to her. The world was full of countless, beautiful souls in it. People with wonderful souls and stories to tell. Why build what nature had already provided?

Besides, she was just a slave in her own right. A slave to her loyalties. She straddled the line, too, in what she said. Much further and she might have cost her own life. The most interesting thing that girl did was contrary to what Ao wanted out of this exchange.

Midori was just obsessed with her. He was an unfortunate case of wasted potential. A man so consumed by his self-pity that the drive that pushed him to compete with her in their youth had fallen so short that he was little more than a fly--a pest--to her. At one time, his efforts and adulation were endearing. Now, it was almost insulting that she ever saw anything of merit in that man.

But, Wren? When she spoke, it struck all the right chords with Ao. That sensation of excitement as what felt like a jolt of electricity shot up her spine was what she craved. Oh, the way she bounced between comparing and contrasting the two just brought her heart aflutter. It was truly more than she could have asked for. There was, in all reality, a moment where those gemstone eyes of hers hazed over while she listened to the werewolf. A moment where she she softened to let herself truly take in the words being told to her. She wasn't sure if Wren was trying to stroke her ego or not, but Ao didn't necessarily care. Her ego was the least of her concerns.

If anything, the fact Wren might have even tried such a thing in her reply meant some level of critical thinking was going on that only made the conversation that much more entertaining. It was something she expected of Elly, if anyone, but she was just... such a coward.

She let out a soft chuckled. A brief moment where she closed her eyes followed, then tossed her head back to flip her hair a little further away from her face.

"I am that bored..." she admitted, her tone low with each word spaced out, only emphasizing how simple of a response it was. It was hard to tell what emotion hid behind her words. Sadness, perhaps. Frustration, equally likely. Anger, disappointment, a jaded sense of melancholy. It was hard to tell, yet all there the same.

"Had we the time, I'd let my partners tell you just how dull my life is..." she said, only going on after a moment. "You think killing Astila was some big feat, but it's what every day of my life the past three years has been dedicated to," she added, speaking as if her assassination and subsequent elimination of agents meant nothing at all.

"Unlike Midori, we don't have free time. We don't have freedom. We are tools. From dawn 'til dusk, we train. We develop skills you probably haven't even heard of. We might go out on a mission, but it's not like there's any real danger--not anymore, at least. Once you become one of his prized possessions, he doesn't send you somewhere to die. He doesn't let his favorite toys go so easily," she explained to them. Her tone and demeanor shifted entirely. A new passion was inside her. She spoke quicker with more conviction. She truly was perturbed by her situation.

"So, yeah, I'm bored. It has been over a year since I've had a discussion with someone else that wasn't Lord Eros or another death-damn Golem. No offense to my partners, but let give you a little insight to my living Hell. Roland over there outright hates me," she admitted, venting her frustrations all over again, giving the entire group some insight as to what her life was like. This monster they feared so much, the one that walked over the corpses of their fellow agents and disposed of Astila. That monster was more human than they realized.

"You see, Roland was the replacement for 'Dori. He's a bow. It's what I use. He was only captured by Eros to be my weapon--and he resents me for it. I feel it every time I use him. Worse, neither of us have a decision in the matter, and because of Eros' machinations, he can't even reject me," she explained to them, giving them the sad fate of one of the weapons behind her.

"Pensri and Phawta? Twins that were taken by Lord Eros with some astounding abilities, but not specifically for me. Either way, they're stuck being my weapons instead of the sibling duo they used to be in life--and they hate it," she told them, spilling out more information about her partners and more so enlightening the group on what it was like to be a golem on the Eros side of things.

She paused and exhaled. She was clearly getting worked up. Her wavelength even spiked with it, and it was terrifying in its own right. Another oscillating wavelength, not unlike entirely unlike someone else they knew in the program. However, the spike from Ao alone was far more refined than anything Roya had spilled out alone. She caught her breath. She calmed down.

"Yeah, we waited. I knew 'Dori was with you. I thought maybe it might save my sanity from this banal excuse of a life I have. I thought maybe at least one of you might be interesting and give me a few more memories to think on other than the hundreds of lives I've taken," she explained to them, just pouring out her emotions to this group of mostly strangers.

"You always hated fighting others..." Midori said--his first words of the exchange.

Midori had been strangely silent, obeying the instructions Ao gave him like a well-trained dog. It wasn't like him. He was a rebel by nature. Elly and Zosar probably knew that best. Hell, Elly at times probably wished she could convince him to listen as well as Ao did. This was an extenuating circumstance. Midori normally had some urge or conviction that resulted in his actions. He remained steadfast to whatever that was in any given situation.

But, this one defied his normal approach. He didn't know what to fell. He was completely overtaken by emotions. In the face of it all, his final response... was freeze. She told him to remain quiet, but he couldn't even parse if he should reject her commands or storm off. He just took it. Over and over and over again, he took it. All her verbal beratement. All her abuse. All her rage. Everything. It didn't even phase him how she was making passes at Maria or Wren; by that time, he had too much to mull over.

In just moments, his heart broke. Over, and over, and over again. She was right in so many ways. He didn't want to think about the world where she was alive because it hurt too much to think she was still out there. When that ignorance was shattered, reality hit him and it hit hard. He didn't have it that bad. His hatred of Eros was a selfish one. It was replaced with hatred fueled for all the right reasons. More so, the reality that Ao... felt like she was just a tool. Midori had wished for a purpose time and time again, yet here was Ao with a strictly defined purpose, countering everything he felt. He had no excuse. He had no high ground. He was just wrong and selfish and stupid.

There he was. Standing there, stoic and stupid while she shouting with passion and brilliance. He was hopelessly lost and she decidedly captivating. He wanted to just go back home, call it quits, and collapse into his bed back at the estate. He couldn't get over the thought... that if people were flames, he was a miserable, little match, and she was a beautiful blaze.

He wanted to say anything to follow-up. He wanted to explain how bad it must have been, reliving all those murders that she never would have commit otherwise. But, she knew that. He wanted to tell her sorry. To admit she was right. To break down and confess all his sins, to tell her that he truly had wasted the freedom she obviously coveted so much. But, she knew that. He wanted to say anything that might make this situation better, but he couldn't think of any words and even worse any actions that might make the situation better.

Her eyes gazed over to him, losing all focus on Wren and Zosar in that moment. She waited for him, thinking he would say something else. Quell this awkward silence. But, he didn't. He couldn't do anything when it came time, but... she knew that.

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Downtown LA​

Despite the rough start to their assault on the food court, the outcome was both swift and fairly successful.

By the time the actual LAPD had arrived, Raph had eleven of the total attackers chained, confining their hands and feet as well as restraining their arms and ultimately binding them around the steel tables of the food court that were bolted to the ground. Another seven were dead. Three were severely wounded, low likelihood of survival. In all reality, the only reason more weren't in such severe shape was that these attackers proved far more resilient and durable than a regular human.

Though, far less so than even a one-star agent. Aside from their athleticism, they were all closer to a trained human than a DWMA Agent as well. If not for their raw numbers, these criminals would have hardly been even a remote threat to the police.

Four in total did escape, but given the numbers they had and the necessity to keep them restrained, such would be considered a necessary loss. No one expected this many to have congregated in the same place, let alone for the agents to have tracked them down.

Still, the entire place did wreak of stolen blood and faint Madness.

Sara and Eva were able to easily incapacitate most of the would-be attackers in a close range. With Adrian guarding Raph, he was able to cast some of his more malevolent spells on those with small arms. This resulted in a few of them with severe burns and bruising, but it did clear the grounds fairly quick. As for Nadia and Dani, little needed to be said about their efficacy.

With the LAPD on scene and ambulances on their way, the judgement call was made that the currently-captured individuals were not an immediate threat and would go into the legal system as per any usual criminal. In short, if Nadia wanted to play executioner, she should have more broadly used the opportunity she had mid-fight. Same applied to any agent, really. The criminals around them all straddled the line between human and corrupted, though by all means they truly were Corrupted Souls. Something was just slowing down their progression. There was no way to commit murder without being forever changed.

They would all need put down like dogs eventually.

Regardless, this created a unique situation. Once taken into custody, more intense methods of interrogation if deemed necessary would be off the table. If Nadia wanted to use fear, forceful coercion, brute force, or the trademark skill Adrian--pain, she would need to do it before the paddywagons took these damned souls off to rot in a cell.

Meanwhile, Sara had to contend with issues of her own. This area infested with death and the seemingly satanic rituals of blood was not only getting to her, but affecting Eva to a lesser extent. Souls that were ripped apart and sacrificed alongside the maimed bodies created a ceaseless sea of cries and wails that never made sense--all of which Eva was attuned so. Similarly, the presence of these bloody rituals had an adverse affect on Sara, causing her a general feeling of malaise and anxiety. It was as if her very body was uncomfortable with the gore around her when normally such was hardly a problem.

Raph, on the other hand, was receiving praise from the officers due to his non-lethal methods of capturing the suspects. California, being quite the liberal area, was also one that was very open and accepting of magic. In fact, he probably was accepted here more than he was in the mixed culture of the DWMA. In a similar fashion, the police had assumed Adrian was some type of partner for him. Chains and an Iron Maiden? Made sense to the uninitiated. Much to the chagrin of Adrian, the LAPD were claiming the two made quite the effective team.

The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Merciless Medic Mook-LandStrider​

 

[The Regal Rper]

Ark | Egypt | Rings: 0/1

“There is another frequency we can use that should allow us to be able to communicate fine even if it does interrupt magic.” Was his reply to Wes.

Frankly he hadn't thought splitting up would be an option. It was just what he had brought to the attention of others he wanted their input on. Though with Moreau's direction, West it was.

Moreau's attention drew them to the trap and the undead was confirmed as Ark used Seismic Sense again to get a deeper look at the Chamber for anything else inside of it. Keeping his range limited for the room itself.

The floor ignited like glowing chessboard squares and he could detect clearly where magic lingered in the case of potential activating trap areas. He wondered if he could bend anything here or if he could just simply manifest platforms for the group to cross.

A second pulse expanded the range further, tuning the clarity and providing some extra detail beyond the room.

“The room ahead of us is similar. For some reason I can detect magic from the pitfall holes. Aside from that, there is a triangular room further ahead of us I can detect. From what I picked up it seems to be a shrine but there doesn't seem to be anything or anyone I can sense within it. No magic I detected in that shrine room either but I would still suggest looking at it once we pass.

“The largest room I picked up on beyond the rooms ahead of us gave me vague details but I'm pretty certain I sensed movement, those are where our possible survivors are. We might want to hurry whatever is going on there was unclear but what I detected didn't feel right. Easiest way I can explain it.

Mentions: Merciless Medic

Interactions: RedArmyShogun Shotgunpenguin Mook-LandStrider EmperorsChosen Sir Les Paul

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar | Hallerbos Forest, Belgium

Two bumps on the shoulder, a nudge from her elbow. He turned his eyes down to look.

Big toothy idiotic grin with wagging brows, a touch of smug thrown in.

'She wants me~'​

His eyelids drooped just a little. There wasn't a shred of amusement on his face like there was hers. He didn't even look annoyed, it just seemed like the humor hadn't quite landed.

Not to say he wasn't amused but he felt it, like a tightrope shaken even slightly he felt the disconcert within Wren shake the link like a flicked guitar string, barely perceptible to the human eyes, present to the mind--

--There it had shriveled, compressed until it became the bouncing feel associated with the emotion of humor. All done so quickly in one fast smooth transition he might have missed it if he hadn't felt the uneasy in her first the second Crimson's eyes landed on her.

Humor for discomfort, he would have given a passing reassurance and returned his attention to the source but he couldn't ignore the way Wren’s reaction had felt through their link; the way she played it off easily in expression and reaction, the way her wavelength convulsed then quickly evened, left a noteworthy detail he would have to pay attention to in the future. If it weren't for his experience paying attention to emotions, he would have missed that passing rise of discomfort. Even with a link bridging the gap between emotions, a person suppressing or trying to avoid displaying certain feelings, could still make them difficult to detect even for their partner, even more so if they meant to avoid those feelings from transitioning into the link.

A mock sensation of annoyance rose in reply at her decision to point out her success however, bragging at catching the eyes of wayward baddies, he let out a huff, broad shoulders, the flare of pain from that one exposed side, momentarily bouncing as he let out that wind.

The act contrasted the more potent flicker Wren would have felt. From the sputtering spark of emotions, amusement was the strongest, she would have genuinely felt it as his real reaction to her statement, whether she realized that though was a different matter. He had buried it, intentionally, under several other emotions that matched his unamused, reserved front. The strongest of all the emotions hit like the first candle illuminating a dim room before several other candles were lit immediately after simultaneously.

For our sake, let's hope she doesn't want you enough to take you.

It didn't translate into the link though. Wasn't something she needed to hear.

Wren's answer, as she shifted her gaze from him to her, would hopefully satisfy Crimson.

He felt Wren’s foot touch his and didn't move it. Listened both inward and out of the link to everything she said. His eyes were trained on Ao but his mind was focused on listening to Wren.

She didn't feel anything in his link while she spoke, from start to finish. It was like he had closed her off from his thoughts, just like a one-sided conversation, the only thing that gave sign he was receiving what she said was the tingle, that supernatural sense that he was still receptive.

A street urchin, dealt the bad hand in life, left to fend for herself. Got mixed in with someone that saw opportunity, took a chance for mutual benefit, and had eventually saw that deal which brought her out of the streets into an entirely new life.

A peddler, enforcer, the words were certainly unique ways to describe herself.

He’d seen her type before. In Jamaica, in Venezuela, Brazil and Spain, Germany and France. He had seen her type many times- had brought her type in on a few occasions and helped them adjust to life connected to the Enlighteners, it was almost odd how he hadn't made the connection easily.

It made things click. The ruggedness, deeper still there had always been this lingering sense of toughness to her despite that moment of fragility she had allowed him to see. Wren had her informal mannerisms that came out like claws, the ‘air’ he had gotten off her that very first day, that she had this aura that was familiar yet different, he hadn't been able to place it.

Now he knew why.

To live with a bad hand and then make the best of it, every time.

He had once upon a time thought the world had played a sick joke on him, as a child, emotional and naive, had both hated and loved his gift. A twisted joke that made the idea of fate bullshit, when he had been told time and time again by new recruits that made leaps where he struggled, that he would never amount to much of a ‘good’ meister. Had pushed and proven them wrong but always felt that lingering frustration at how limited he was.

That of course was what the missions had given him a chance to work out. Revelations and learning points from other people's lives. How they had been affected, how regretful wished they could have done things differently. Had multiple revelations, some good, some awful, some bad, each taught him something.

Wren made it on her own, no connections to boost her, no one to bounce her back, only one old guy using her for opportunities and from the sound of it, both capitalizing on the familial sense they shared to get on by till life threw the dice at her again and she had to adapt once more.

“ Can't deny that” he commented, voice at ease, tone nostalgic “certainly sounds like you two are alike where it counts.” In his own way that was a compliment to them both.

He had seen many just like Wren, just statistics in the world’s biggest gamble of life. Broken homes yielding orphans or rebellious kids gone wayward or fucked up communities churning out high crime rates influencing those trapped within, like his bro Jo who used to break teeth, serve up bloody comas, turned numb when it came to breaking bones, giving mercy or if necessary, snapping a neck, to the cheering of crowds in rings for enough euro to provide for his younger siblings when los adultos couldn't bring enough to pay bills and provide food for the day or even the week. Jo like Wren turned what bad hand life had dealt him into his benefit. They were examples of stragglers he knew that made it, where others hadn't, either going one way or going down the other that brought them in his route, on death's door.

He found it amusing though, her final note, in a conversation with a mass murderer.

‘That’s just the stroke of luck kicking in’ timing was on point, exactly after she made that mass murderer comment.

‘Garantizalo, next roll of the dice, we’ll be fighting an actual giant, maybe you'll get some attention there too or if you're lucky we'll get a hot witch to fight’, a touch of amusement carried over. And then it poured out, shifting his expression into a grim smile between Crimson's further clarification and Midori's brief interjection.

What a smoothie of emotions.

Silence hung in the air for a moment, awkward and straining--

--a surprised sound intermingled with amazement. A huff, tossed his eyes to the side, scratched at the side of his cheekbone, centimeters above the place where he had been burned by Royal’s blood, a small three dots.

“A partnership that stays because you don't have a choice or say.” It was disturbing, though as much as it was he spoke sympathetically, a manner that held a sense of familiarity.

“You know I had two kinds of partners?” Guess it was his turn to share. He said it aloud, open conversation, rhetorical, but the statement was more a way for him to breach the topic. He was doing it now because Wren had given him more than enough.

He had to do right by her and at least give her a bone to chew. A treat, for giving him her story at least.

Since he hadn't moved his foot from Wren yet he told her four simple words.

‘I was a spy.’

Wren could have felt in the moment he spoke was this solid vague feeling that couldn't quite be articulated in emotional terms.

Continued in real time with what he was initially saying--

“Guess you could say I was a rogue.” HE had never considered the Enlighteners, rogues, others had considered him one though. The mind ran wild when there was nothing truly solid to go off of.

The more prominent rumors he knew of had been about who he had willingly worked with to infiltrate the DWMA, what offerings had been made to him, what leverage he had been aiming to achieve by sitting in the same seats as children of legends or individuals of the Guild from some prominent families, getting into the social network with ease and flourishing, like a political saboteur-- it was never about who had manipulated him into doing what he had done. Not like how it had been with Midori. Not with how the DWMA Intel saw how little guilt he actually felt about infiltrating the organization. The rumors he knew of had ranged in him being the byproduct of Rogues. The worst defectors of DWMA, the ones that split either after the Treaty was formed or after the Second Witch Hunt upon Spirit’s assassination. The sort that hated monsters or witches or had personal vendettas against specific noteworthy individuals within the organization, if not rogues then it was Outlaws. If not Outlaws, it was some other worse group. That was really what made getting partners after a certain point difficult in the survey process once those sorts of theories or hypotheticals spread.

It had never really been like Midori, even though they were both spies, Midori's rumors pointed at him as a human puppet, a fake, a brainwashed assassin. Unlike him, there was never a doubt in his loyalties. After all he had come to DWMA without any true connections save the ones that vanished without him.

They were similar but at root, they were different. Just like Ao pointed out, they were similar as victims of Eros but at root, they were different.

This was just a highlight he was reliving really.

He felt for him. Ultimately however, there was not a thing he could say for him. He knew enough to know that whatever had been there in the past with this person, was dead now.

It was a mirror situation really, with how he saw it. Different likely in outcome, in how he imagined what would happen if he ever met Becky again on the field in the future.

She probably resented him in the same way Crimson did with Midori.

The hate, confusion, frustration, never left him he recalled in her eyes. Like the gazes of all the others as he left them behind.

He could live with her-- all of them-- resenting him, knowing at least unlike this situation these two shared- they had escaped.

Eustice had confirmed it, among other things in the dungeon. Things that solidified his beliefs on going back being the wrong choice and hammered it in the day he stood staring at Jõse.

“I got caught and got a deal of a lifetime. Get out of jail card. Survey for a period of time before I could get into the program,” he said with a little whimsical smile. As if it was amusing. ““I know what it feels like to be stuck with whoever was given to you, and know what it is like when they harbor feelings against you for it. My condolences, gracia roja.”


For all except Midori, who knew the most, it was the first he breeched the subject. “When you're locked in and the only person you can talk to is yourself or the walls, or someone that has a grudge, or someone that you know couldn't possibly begin to care…it sucks.” He was looking Ao in the eyes as he said it.

Didn't matter if he had caused his own problem and she never would have been part of the equation if she hadn't been with Midori that horrible day. He knew what it was like. Knew something at least even if Eros bypassed the way Resonance worked regardless. He understood.

“Worse if it's a partner you're stuck with. I ain't a stranger to that, could never compare to what you all suffer, but I get it. The ones assigned to me made it their goal to probe in subtle ways, when that didn't work out, got pissy and left, or stayed until we did reject and blamed me for it. Self-inflicted, I know, reaped what I sowed” he shrugged, not in a defeated way but a factually reserved one,
Wren had partners get up and leave the moment she admitted the truth. He understood that.

In their eyes she was a grenade waiting to go off at the worst time. Few would risk that, knowing she could gain a brief rush, that made them her target.

For him, it was a risk he could take because of her potential. Like what she revealed now.

Girl was a gem. Others hadn't seen it.

Like her, he had been lucky, he knew that.

If he had been too late, his capture would have been worse. After their fight with the Corrupted a high level two star duo had been sent to assist the group and only reached the location after they had concluded.

The plan he discussed with Markus was he would go, try to help where he could so they got the kill in, then bail, go into hiding outside of Death City. Be on the run till he could get word in, have Hiroshi send Jo and a team to pick him up, using their contacts to get word back.

Wasn't like he couldn't survive on his own without the crew. He had before. Flip the script decisions that were necessary when the dice changes things and he had to adapt quick or die thinking what could have been done differently.

Had the teams he came in with to infiltrate the DWMA and gather Intel on their operations or sabotage missions that conflicted with Enlightener activities caused death or harm, he would have had worse treatment. What happened to Lars was a testament.

He knew Hoshi had techniques to force entry into the soul, walk around like it was a library, pull information from memories. Hiroshi had told him. Told them all about it. That was the dangerous part about being captured and why plans they were not private to had been made about where new bases would be located once teams were mobilized. Forcing entry into the soul was discomforting when resistance was up, it wasn't painful in the normal sense but it was extremely uncomfortable. He hadn't had the choice to pick who his partners were when that had been put to light in front of him during the deal. If he refused he could rot in the dungeon. In time, DWMA still got their information after all. Found his real identity.

Not that most people knew.

At the end of the day though, every partner had wanted the same thing. Information. Both the volunteers and the assigned wanted to know who he worked for, what he did, if anything he had built was real, if he had ever cared, why he did it, why he bothered saving Stinger, a ‘friend’ and if it had anything to do with her blood ties to the Eclair family and personal relations to the Ox Ford family. They all wanted information too soon, when he wasn't about to give it up and when that failed they left and took to adding to the fire of rumors lingering around.

Not all of them, sure, but he knew the ones that harbored the most resentment towards him either having been informed of his status or a combination of knowing and hearing the increase of rumors until most couldn't bare it, and the few that did made sure he knew they disliked him for it, for what he represented as weak as that made Resonance as a whole.

“ Though my bigger concern should probably be the mention of time.” His voice respectful, “What happens when time is up?”

Foolish to ask perhaps but Crimson had all the power here. Not like he forgot about back up. Just that if it came what happened to them? Lambs on the slaughter?

It was harmless to ask.

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen

Interactions: Haze-
Sir Les Paul

 

[Haze-]

Wren
Hallerbos Forest, Belgium​

She listened intently to her every word, feeling the pressure grow and wrap an asphyxiating grip on her, and her wavelength waved again. Not out of discomfort this time around, but out of sheer indignation— anger, the type born out of impotence.

It was for the slightest second; just like before, it evened out to its usual, stable self. She rolled her neck, throat bobbing with a breath she was swallowing down, scrunching her eyes; she didn’t hide the disgust in her face this time around.

There was a newfound understanding sparked within Wren, something that drew a clear line between Crimson— no, Ao and Royal Pain. One was a puppet that enjoyed its part in the play, the other did the dance limp, letting the strings flail its corpse around because it couldn’t do anything about it.

Then, multi-faceted as she was, there was the professional part of her. The DWMA agent, gloating on all the information they’d managed to ‘scrounge up’ out of the enemy. She was taking mental notes, even if her eyes were all doom and gloom as Ao gestured to her partners.

Roland, Demon Weapon— a bow. Comparable to Midori; if her assumption was correct. Pensri, Phawta— sibling duo. Possibly close-range weapons. Assumptions, theory craft.

The soul of a Stein was taken, not a hard assumption to draw what would happen next. It was another line of reports to give. Reports she didn’t want to give at all.

“Had we the time…” — She echoed, scoffing at how downhearted she sounded.

“All miserable over our own ghosts,” — She scrunched her nose, sparing quiet glances between Ao and Midori; feeling those ghosts lengthen. Some more than others, that was for sure — “Ma così è la vita.“

There was more on her mind, things she wanted to ask. Things that’d only sigh into the hollow parts of her mind, not even Zosar would know.

“You ever think about it? How you’d function if one day you woke up and…”

Snap—

“Tin-man no more.”

Or had she gotten too comfortable already? Was it routine work by now?

She might’ve been going back to comparisons with that thought. All she remembers from the past is wanting nothing more than to be a loyal dog back when her life wasn’t hers. Wouldn’t have to think about soppy things like ‘cherishing’ or ‘losing’ anything that way. She would just move mindlessly, one foot after the other for somebody else’s whims. Without feeling.

Hell, even now that she was on air-strings herself, Wren was still learning how to move autonomous.

Ao wasn’t the same as her back then. They weren’t even on the same lime light in the now. It seemed as if every waking moment for her, she was making a vain attempt at snapping the strings she was hung up on. Cutting her hands on them, gritting teeth— all useless at the end of the day.

Even more useless was the thought of trying to console her, extend a hand in understanding. Wren herself had almost done it without thinking; there was no telling how long it had been since someone had shown Ao genuine connection, reminded her how that felt. But in cases like these, it was tact foremost. Sure, she could try to hold her up with mere words for a bit and, just maybe, that fellow feeling would well and stew inside her the night after.

“Così è la vita…“ — It would be gone at a snap of Eros’ fingers. Useless.

It was a cycle of mindless violence that would only end once it rounded back to where it started. Nothing else would solve it, nothing else would lessen it— she knew that much.

“Shit hits the fan, I guess.” — She added after Zosar, sliding her boot off his, not before adding something else — ‘Spy, huh? Sounds like a cool story…’ — Punching in a chuckle for good measure.

For now, all Wren could give was nothing but a hopeless, useless pledge— “You know agents are coming, you should hit the road soon…but, ‘fore you go,” — Not something of assurance, not something out of pity — "If we ever see our ugly faces again, and you wanna play-pretend like we’re not on the wrong side of things, we can stop and talk. Get something off your chest. Like we were two old, menopaused hags sitting at a park throwin’ bread at ducks.”

Just a reminder that she’d give her exactly what she wanted again, if she was up to it. Braindead chatter, from stranger to stranger — “I’m bored out of my damned mind most days too.”

“Just for a bit though,” — She brought a hand up to her face, pinched her index to her thumb, only stopping at a small gap’s distance from touch — “I’m a busy old woman.”

Mentions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen
Interactions: The Regal Rper Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Ao Mitsuki​

"Lady Crimson / Songbird"​

Species Human (Golem)
Partners Roland, Pensri, Phawta
Rank Three Star-Star

Location Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
Mission Assassination of a Stein
Status Sullen

​

Tags: The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Haze-

Kind words from some... no words from others...

The wrong words from one.

There was plenty left to say. Zosar ate up plenty of time with his replace. Wren with some theatrics. In truth, Ao wouldn't have minded to follow-through with those conversations. They had a depth beyond the senseless effort for self-preservation or the single-minded ambition of the other two agents. Had she her way and all the time in the world, she might have stayed there for hours on end, just spilling out more of her soul and wasting a little more time on this blue marble they called Earth.

Alas, there was not time. Zosar and Wren were correct. Ao had a pretty good idea of the net of en route agents and how it was closing in. If she wanted to escape and do so easily, she didn't have much time. She could get by some of those agents, kill them quick and simply make a mad dash Eastward. Once she crossed out of the country, disappearing into the wind would be easy.

Ao sighed, acknowledging to herself that her brief taste of freedom was over. She had to return to her original plan.

"Time is fleeting, you're right..." she said, her tone somber and defeated. Defeat by life, that was. An unending life she no longer wanted. That slow, dull tone was almost hollow, devoid of that same passion she had when she was shouting just moments ago. That was the profound gravity she felt at the time. The realization that in mere moments, she would be back to being a tool.

"I won't waste my last few moments soaking up the sympathy or pretending like we could forge some friendship over ocean that separates our worlds," she announced the group. Her weapons now finally started paying attention, now looking over to her and watching fairly closely. It wasn't clear what was going on or how they knew to look when the rest of the time they had paid no attention and maintained a whispered conversation by the broken tree they sat around.

Ominous, maybe, but it didn't slow her, "Instead, I have a confession."

Ao turned towards Midori and started walking over to him. It was a sad, awkward sight. Midori was even more difficult to read than normal. Not because his emotions were hidden or because he had his whole soul suppressed, but because the tempest that was his soul was more chaotic than even Zosar's on his worst day. His facial features, his body language, the indescribable aura he put off; it was all broken and illegible. Ao, by contrast, was not a storm. She was a black hole. An abyss of sorrow that which no ray of hope could escape. When the two neared, was melancholic scene that words really didn't do justice. These were broken, battered souls that few could relate to and even fewer could truly understand.

"Midori... I-I never even liked you," she told him, "and, I knew how you felt... I just didn't care."

She stared at him blankly. She wasn't the hot-headed, passionate woman she was before. She was cold, flat, stoic. She was different, but not because she was lying or this was some sudden change. It was because she had recited these words a thousand--no ten thousand times over--in her head if she ever got the chance to say them.

Midori finally had emotions break through that tempest. Gusts of wind that overpowered the others. Turbulence that swung his maelstrom of emotions in one direction over all others. Anger. Anger with hints of humiliation, overtones of betrayal. The earnest joy he had from seeing her again was gone. The sadness from the situation, it was quelled. Those words sparked anger. An anger that right now manifested as confusion. His memory--the pristine, perfect memories from before his first death--had countless times over the years of their partnership where it felt like more. And, now, he was being told all that was wrong?

"Ao, I--" but, he didn't get to finish.

"I am not Ao Mitsuki and you are not Midori Hoshi," she replied, still calm and cool, completely collected. Yet, it seemed one could even squeeze blood from a stone as silent tears strolled down those cheeks of hers.

"Ao used Midori. She was just a poor Japanese girl being abused by her dad. She got into the DWMA by stealing from agent. Once she got in, she did everything she could to avoid going back to the streets of Tokyo," Ao explained flatly, just trying to spit these words with a difficulty that was hard to convey due to the practice she put in just to say them. "She remembered the very first time you met, the first words you said. I know what she thought. You were a ladder for her from day one. Having a Hoshi as a partner drew a lot of eyes. She got to train with your family. Learned the Old Ways--even better than you. All that time, she always found you annoying. You were entitled. You thought you had it so bad because you were a branch family member--the Dark Star, they called you. A fucked up eye is all you had. Ao, she had to fight in the streets--and sometimes, she lost."

"She trained with dozens of better Hoshi and wished she had met so many of them before you," Lady Crimson admitted, "or, wish she waited to find someone else. Someone that was grateful. Someone that she didn't have to hide her hatred of every time they trained or went on a mission."

GORE WARNING​

Midori attempted to talk again... but he didn't get to finish.

As soon as any sound could have emanated from Midori, all that came from him was a guttural, uncharacteristic cough.

At their level, this type of speed was hardly visible. The human eye could only be amplified to see at certain framerate. The eye of Witches could be amplified magically as well. In this case, none of the agents present had the raw skill level to see what had occurred. One moment, Midori was attempting to respond to the incredibly brutal claims Lady Crimson had made about Ao in what seemed like third person dialogue. The next was a gruesome scene.

Lady Crimson had plunged her hand, flatted to a point, straight through the chest of Midori. Her fingertips slipped through his clothes, his skin, and between his ribs in one quick motion, and inside his ribcage, grasped his right lung and forced it through the back of his ribcage.

The result was a bloody mess of mashed, pink meat with stripes of white flesh dividing it into sections. If one could even make that out. The mesh that was left of a soft lung that had been grasped and forced through bone was hardly something that could be identified easily. The flawless, porcelain skin of her hand and forearm, while stained by his blood, had no signs of injury. Just the fleshy mound that was at one point a vital organ. His bones provided no more resistance than his lung. As it was a fist that protruded through his back and straight through him, three of his ribs were splayed open like the hard covers of a book. They protruded through his skin where it wasn't just outright torn with bone fragments from the impact falling to the ground, amidst a spray of blood that followed in the brief moments after.

Nothing else was said following that. Lady Crimson withdrew her hand from his cavity, after releasing the bits of flesh that were once his lung. Blood flew freely from that wound and more breathless gasps erupted from Midori. His brain just couldn't parse what had occurred to him in such a short period of time.

Lady Crimson was done with him, though. She was done with this whole scenario. Once her hand and arm were out of Midori, she jumped back to her weapons; all three had transformed. During the speech Lady Crimson had gave, the three had moved the three they were on, revealing a pile corpses that laid hidden under it. Roland was strapped to her back while Pensri and Phawta were twin hook swords at her sides. She was ready to leave, but not before one final word. She held her hand in one of the pouches on her thigh, her fingers dipped within it.

"Do not chase me. Do not let him search for me. You have no hope of killing Lord Eros," she warned the remaining four.

Midori, in the mean time, had hunched over, but had an answer for this potentially lethal situation. He could transform. As bad as it was with a lung entirely destroyed, he still had the ability to begin his golem transformation. As his humanoid form began to glisten with the shimmer of his pearlescent form, Lady Crimson had offered her final words to the group. After her warn, she tossed out a series of small, black, stone objects that resembled nesting dolls, with each roughly the size of a large marble.

Once those stones were in the air, Lady Crimson departed with that absurd speed of hers. An after-image is all they were left with this time, a faint outline of her before she was gone from the tree her weapons waited at.

What she had left for the group with her final distraction was something unlike any of them had ever seen. Another invention of Lord Eros. Each of those black stones fell to the ground, most of which bouncing off the bodies they hit. There was no rhyme or reason to it. Gravity just pulled them down. Upon touching the flesh of those corpses, the stones began to react. They released souls. Corrupted Souls that were hidden behind not just Soul Protect, but the oscillating wavelength Lady Crimson had that caused distortions in the area around her. This might have half-explained what happened to the other souls that vanished if not for the fact these were already evil, corrupted beings.

These souls took root inside of the corpses with only a brief delay of them flying around through the air to find their new home. Once they were inside, they began to animate the corpse. Their bodies contorted into grotesque forms only for them to begin shifting in form entirely as Madness radiated from the entire lot of them. There were eight in total, all with some frenzied Madness Wavelength and an intense bloodlust set on blind murder. As these bodies transformed, they demonstrated an odd pattern: they were all almost identical. In general, every Corrupted Soul was unique, as was their powers. These eight Corrupted Souls all had an obsidian stone skin surrounding them. They varied slightly in size, and each as it shambled to its feat actually conjured a different weapon comprised of this same obsidian material, but otherwise, they made for a terrifying impromptu fighting force given the potency of the Madness radiating off of them.

This was absurd. Outnumbered in moments by a squad of mad corpse-golems... violating both the laws of nature and magic.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

Eloise Keegan - Hallerbos Forest, Belgium
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

This conversation was growing more unpleasant by the second. They were still teetering between death and life simply for being here, and now they were listening to the person who would tip the scales vent. Elly could not say she was all that moved. It was a bad situation, that she understood. However, considering the woman was an enemy, Elly wasn't particularly keen to empathize with her. Perhaps, if she thought it would do something, but no. Any such sentiments would likely be seen as insulting, or so she figured.

Her eyes turned to Zosar and Wren, narrowing subtly as Zosar tried to do exactly what she thought wasn't a good idea, and met with minimal results. Still, there was some information to be gleaned from the woman's ramblings. They knew about the bow weapon and could presume he was similar to Midori. Logic would place the twins as a replacement for his other form, the swords or another type of dual weapon.

Elly's gaze watched as she began making her way towards herself and Midori, and Elly tensed slightly even if she tried best to conceal it. She didn't need to look at Midori to notice the erraticism of his soul. Ao's on the other hand just seemed sorrowful. Then came the confession. There were a lot of notes Elly could pick out from the brief interaction, notes that led the meister to believe that the assassin wasn't entirely being truthful. The way her soul dropped in vibrancy, she stuttering with the stone-cold cadence to avoid any emotion slipping through. It circled back to what she said before about being disappointed that Midori hadn't ever really moved on from what happened. Elly had seen, and used, such a tactic before, though she would like to think she sold it a bit better. At the very least, she never had to punch a hole in someone's chest for emphasis.

Elly's eyes widened at what she saw. It was too much information to process at once, even for her. Her eyes lingered on the red dripping from Midori, the arm stuck through his torso, the faces on both. Her heart jumped and she froze admittedly, taking abnormally long to process. She couldn't do anything but grip Midori's shoulder instinctively as he began to lurch over. It wasn't until Ao had stepped back and thrown those abominations to slow them down that she shook herself free mentally.

It seemed Midori was already transforming to mitigate the damage. That was good. Her face turned from shock to a grimace. "Form up around Midori. Maria, kill or cripple as many of the things from a distance or with your doll as you can. Zosar, Wren, you to pieces any that get close. They're barely able to walk right, likely more of a distraction than a lethality."

RedArmyShogun Sir Les Paul Haze- The Regal Rper

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Maria Mayer - Hallerbos Forest, Belgium​

Immediately as the woman got close, Maria was on guard, the conversation not being one she was particularly interested in. While the woman had suffered, she had also proven to be the biggest coward in the world as far as Maria was concerned. Here she went on about suffering and surviving. There was not one Agent here who had not suffered, though the extent to which they did varied greatly, it was aggravating to see her making so little of it, to automatically write off the rest. Nadia had lost her whole family to a brutal War, Dani had to watch everything slip from her and bear the burden of what happened with her brother, Sara was always an outsider among her own people, even the more well off ones like Gauss and Raph had issues. She did not know how to quantify the suffering of the humans around her, they just all had something, it just differed in how they could take it.

Maria herself had her family killed by the DWMA and was isolated for many years for fear that her own madness would spread to the rest in those early days. These were things that shaped and affected her life. Though she never begrudged the DWMA for it, and she had come to terms with her own uniqueness over the course of time in FATE. But then Zosar had to speak, causing the Dall maker to clench her jaw. While he had problems of his own, his Sympathy, and even the pointlessness of his words, that he himself admitted to, had only bought the enemy time. Before long the wolf also seemed to be doing the same, though hers were much shorter, and ended up calling herself an old lady...

Maria still did not like this, for all of her talk of not wanting to kill someone, she was atop a mound of corpses. Like some hypocrite of a mech pilot that always aimed for the cockpit. She may have had a heart of gold, but she was still a dog on a leash, and as far as Maria was concerned, as the next words came rolling out, it wasn't gold, it was Iron Pyrite. Maria may have been distant, there were things she did not and likely would never understand about people, she was an observer, and she knew this one was going no place good.

As the woman sought pleasures, as the woman claimed that who she was, was dead, as she went on with how much she hated Midori and the situation she was in, Maria was already reaching out with her wires to her dolls, but she was much too slow. This soul was the walking dead, coping to extremes, like a student who was a failure at the Guild, yet believed their day was to come... No, she didn't even believe her day would come. It was the last bit about Eros, that she screamed out, not in hysterics but in a calm, certain and purposeful voice. "All things Die and so shall he. Even should it take me 150 years, he will pay for his crimes, for breaking the taboos, he will die as the cowardly dog he is! I stand with my creations! WHERE IS HE?!" Even if she didn't hear most of it, or any of it, Maria said these words for herself, justice, her stance as a conservative reformist of the Guild, and for her team as well. As the black dolls magic began, or in the process to completion.

Madness seeped from them, the Chaos of the days she did not endure, but the bounds of Creation, of Order, her own madness being counter, simply instilled her will, as the chaos touched her mind and soul a rampart of order, retribution and righteous vengeance descended upon her. Like before the book became charged with mana and the broom leaned against her back, Maria had heard the orders of Elly but was already a step ahead. "Their numbers are not enough! I ask you leave the heads intact, so I may take teeth imprints so their families may know for sure who has died!" The souls that originally belonged to these bodies, they were likely being taken to the Mad Smith's forge, to be turned into weapons to use against the DWMA or to be broken and driven mad like these here now.

With that she called upon her larger doll, dashing it into the enemy formation at once to body block and knock down the nearest two with a swing of its dual blades, while the Witch immediately connected to her four smaller ones, the two casters had a couple more spells to throw into the mix before landing back at Maria's feet, the two melee's were connected to her harness spools, carrying out complex orders to support Alicia as she used her free right hand to summon up a Wind Blast towards the rear most enemies, staggering the front between the enemy line if done correctly.


Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Elly) Sir Les Paul (Midori) (Lady Crimson) The Regal Rper (Zosar) Haze- (Wren)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Downtown LA​

Sergeant LaCrosse of the LAPD had already told Nadia of the fifteen minute ETA until the fleet of police cruisers would arrive on scene to start packing away these criminals. The larger vehicles they had for transport were elsewhere, so these individuals would be going the slow, methodical way. One-by-one in cars, not even taking the risk of letting them go two-by-two.

LaCrosse was a strict cop. Unbeknownst to the group, he was a former Captain demoted for a vast array of complaints, most of them having to deal with disregarding policy and allowing use of excessive force slide one too many times. He had no sympathy for these criminals. For really any criminals. He stood on his moral high ground proudly.

He also made it known that he wouldn’t be reporting any methods Nadia or her group would use in gathering information, so long as it was his little group of officers that were witnessing it. Even for Nadia, the disgust he had in his soul for these men was obvious. He’d have put every round of his .38 special in the back of their skulls himself, had the chance.

Point was, Nadia had this window to do as she pleased with the eleven captured criminals.

Agreeing with the man, what he hinted at and what his soul showed from her brief glimpses, Nadia paraded down the line, her hands clasped behind her back. Tauntingly she looked at each, aiming to break their spirit to show what weakness each had and to viciously exploit it. The chase had ended much more quickly than she would have liked and turned up nothing of note, between the pursuit, a last minute defense and so many of them simply not taking the exit, only a little under half were captured.

Which by Nadia’s views were still too many. They did not deserve such mercy. Nadia herself was no saint, but these men and women had done too much, and went too far. Looking down on all of them, she gave a thin smile and spoke on the next pass, beckoning Dani over.

“You all are lucky to be alive. In fact far too many of you thanks to my soft hearted compatriot. You have killed, ruined the lives of others, spread chaos and brought about Madness to many aside, engaged in crimes that your God may forgive…. But I am not your God, and you will find my power to be all the more real. Some of you may die here, in fact I approve of it. We are not LAPD, we are the DWMA. You won’t be going to a state of California prison, you will not stand trial, you will not have the US Government jumping to protect you with the filthy lawyers that would jump at the chance. You will be buried so far down, so deep, kept in lovely little cells, surrounded by things your minds cannot comprehend.” Smiling at that she reached out to grab one of the men by the jaw that looked rather indigent.

“I am sure the LAPD won’t object to the transfer of the Prisoners? Though… It would be a shame if a few of you violently tried to escape in the handover… After all, how many officers have you all killed? If you are prepared to kill someone, then you should be prepared to die, da?” She said in a thick Russian accent as she forced the man’s head to look at Dani.

“But why would you do all of this? Because, I have a surprise, in fact one of you feared for his soul upon seeing it. Calling her a demon and heretical. What would happen if such a thing took your soul? I look forward to talking to you all, one by one… Trust me, I can be rather persuasive in questioning the enemies of Man. Dani. Show them, let us see if their Religion comes to save them, to see power their charlatans cannot match…

When you play with fire, what is the expression? You all have done such terrible things, and now you are going to pay the price, though if you talk more willingly, you will save yourself pain and be afforded some level of civility, your families won’t even need to learn of your crimes, you will simply not return home. A kinder fate than those whose Fathers, Sons, Daughters, Mothers, Brothers and Sisters you robbed of such a chance. It's frankly more than you deserve and I do hope you resist.”

There was no fear within this group. Not because they were hardened, like seasoned soldiers that had grown numb to the explosions above their heads, or sailored that had heard the cacophony of cannons too many times to count. There was no fear because there was no sense to the men and women that were surrounding her. The thin line that separated life and death, the beating of a heart and blood spilled from the veins, it was blurred to them.

Laughter rose amongst the ranks. Soft in some places, louder amongst others. Her intimidation had no real effect here.

One woman, bright blonde hair ruined by muddy brown eyes, her highlights stained brown with dried blood. She looked over to Nadia with a fire in her eyes, a rebel streak, and more so, a greater madness inside her than the others.

”Your God is nothing but a false idol. Death is just the next step in our journey,” she responded, her voice full of confidence that bridged right into delusional arrogance. ”Do your best, you dumb bitch. We kill in the name of our Lord and the blood we shed brings us closer to him. Kill us, and our blood will help the next–and there will always be a next,” she went on, ranting on with the teachings of their priests.

”We are the children of the Night. We know what lies beyond death. We are beyond good and evil. You could not hope to understand,” she told Nadia. She challenged Nadia. Restrained and battered, it mattered not. Her wrists were already blistered and burned from the hot chains of Raph, yet that pain mattered not. She was not so easily broken.

Dani watched Nadia take all too much pleasure in her posturing. The woman was a commissar, and apparently this was an enjoyable past-time. Though, Dani wasn’t very surprised. She watched, hands in her pockets, as the freaks brushed off the woman’s threats and laughed. This ticked Dani off more than if they were simply rebellious and, in her mind, solidified them as trash. “Aight, fuck it,” Dani growled marching up with her wavelength flaring.

As the pink-haired woman closed in on the mouthiest one, the fiery scorpion tail sprouted from her spine, curling out and hanging over Dani like a guillotine. She gripped the woman by the jaw and tugged her forward slightly, clenching with enough force to keep the girl’s mouth locked open. Even with Dani’s meager focus of self-enhancement, it was more than enough to manhandle the cultists.

“How bout we don’t kill you. I’ll just give you a magma suppository and let you get ass-fucked in prison. Does that work for your shit god?” Dani growled, the point of her tail hanging precariously over them.

Snorting at that, Nadia had very little to say as she wished to gauge reactions, to find weakness and pick who to hammer for answers. Still there was a bemused chuckle as she looked at the woman so eager to talk. “If you are the Children of the Dark, then we shall drag your little cult kicking and screaming into the light. Where you will wither, scatter and be unremembered like the bugs you are.”

Dani did not know what it was like to be a werewolf. She did not know that there was odd, almost bestial kinship between them, especially those of the same clan. Because of that, the best comparison she had was to that of her own brother.

An odd familiarity. Up until this point, she and her flames hadn’t had any real meaningful interaction with these cultists. These criminals. The situation had changed. That madness, tho weak in nature, now resonated with her. Not in the spiritual sense, but that it became clear. That the noise it made in the background now became a faint whisper.

A whisper that she understood alone amongst the group. That same whisper that crept into the ears and down the spines of the cultists. They knew the power she possessed because they had seen abilities that came from the same source. Her flame was their flame. Her power was their power, even if exponentially greater within her.

Most of the cultists became still and silent. Like meager wolves in the wild without a pack binding them, they fell in line before the strongest and most powerful in front of them. Nadia might have excelled far beyond them physically, but they only respected the flame.

The black flame.

Those dull, ashen eyes of the once-mouthy cultist fell on Dani. The flames of her scorpion tail danced in her dark irises, and she could only stare. Those flames may have been red and orange, but they were birthed from the same black flames each cultist saw once they became children of the night. Once they consumed the blood of the stalker.

The bemused, the threats, the pressure–it meant nothing to them. Nothing to her. Only those flames did. She was little more than a moth attracted to that which would burn her alive if given the chance.

”Y-You have been touched by the night… by the darkness…” she muttered, her state now in utter confusion. Dani might have understood that confusion, if only because it made so little sense that there was any odd type of connection here. Then again, the unknown forces here that spread the madness and murder so far hadn’t made sense to either soul studies or this new field of flame research.

”Only a bishop…” she muttered, growing more nonsensical by the moment, [/b]”a Bishop… a Bishop…”[/b]

Most of the others soon also started with these incoherent mumblings, repetition about the night, about the priests, how all blood flows in the same direction. Worse, the madness that was once minor and benign seemed to grow–not drastically–but enough to register amongst those like Nadia and Adrian nearby. Not a danger with their broaches, but a side-effect they could see and feel nonetheless.

“This power does not belong to just your cult. There are other sources of it in the world, ones that do not require sacrifice.” Keeping an eye, or rather her “eyes” upon them with soul perception, at the slightest sign madness would leap from one chain to the other, she would reach for the knife at her hip and thrust it into them one by one till the effects died off completely. Dani would not be lost to this vermin. “Your faith has been shown up by a random DWMA agent, and you have killed others for no reason. Where are your Bishops?” Shifting her gaze over to Adrian she hoped he would notice her intentions, should the madness grow in tempo and power, making a subtle movement towards her knife then eyeing over the prisoner line, a return to the old days could not be allowed for the sake of information alone, more so at the cost of Dani.

Dani felt a shiver down her spine as she felt an odd connection with the cultists. It was faint, but familiar, the madness that reverberated from them. Hesitantly, the woman’s grip loosened around the cultist’s jaw. “...I wouldn’t call it darkness… but… yeah, sure,” Dani remarked, somewhat disappointed by the lunatics’ reaction. She allowed Nadia to go about her speech, picking up on what Nadia was trying to do. “Sounds to me that you got scammed by someone who doesn’t know what they’re on about,” She added in remark.

It was not the faithful that faltered. It could not be. Those that truly believed, who devoted their hearts to the darkness, and were consumed by the flame… they could not fathom what was occurring. It was a pointless venture to try and pry anything out of them.

Salvation here came from those of little faith. The newest converts to the cult of the night. Those that had committed the fewest sins, spilled the least blood, whose souls had been tainted the least. They still had the wherewithal to answer something. And, they did not do so out of fear. It was not some survival instinct, or an avoidance of pain. It was pride. The idea that they were deceived.

It was not the mouthy blonde from earlier, but a lanky young man in the back brown of hair and light in complexion. Nothing outstanding about him except for the fact he was the first to talk.

”Stop your shit. I’ll tell you what little there is to it,” he spat out, frustrated by the whole situation–not to mention the burns he suffered prior to his capture.

”They find us one way or another. Recruiters, as bad as the military, but with better deals. It’s probably gonna be the same story for just about everyone,” he explained, outlining the process of getting at least to where he was, and doing so with a fair amount of disgust climbing out of his throat.

”I had a fucked up leg. Football injury. Lost my girl, lost my scholarship,” he told them, ”they said they could fix that–and they did. You go drink this nasty black shit out of a fancy cup; next thing you know, you wake up covered in blood and feeling fucking great.”

”It’s a high. It’s a ride. It’s better than coke. Then when you can stay awake during the trip, a priest will teach you how to do the ritual. After that, it’s better than busting a hundred nuts at once–I swear to God himself,” he told them, ”and you go on chasing that high forever.”

”The priests organize everything on burner phones or by drop points. We get together and they teach us.. The Sutra of the Night, they call it. It’s a lot of the same chants you’re hearing now, but it’s all about the same damn thing: we kill people, do the ritual, and we may get ourselves killed in the process. What they teach you is that the more blood we spill, even if it’s your own, the closer we all get to the Eternal Night,” he explained, this time actually giving them some more specific details.

”It’s like heaven or some shit. It’s the place we all see when we first drink the black shit. It’s dark an’ cold even though there’s fire everywhere. It’s the trippiest shit ever, and when you get back from it, you are high as balls. Even better than when you do the ritual for the first time. That feeling is what we’re all chasing,” he admitted, ”that’s what this shit all is, ladies.. It’s just chasing a really good high. You’d believe fuckin’ anything to feel that.”

At first, Dani almost wanted to dismiss them as a bunch of crackheads, gaining an almost inconvenienced expression as she looked down at them, releasing the woman and looking at the male who talked next. However, there were various clues that caused anxiety to creep upon her. The black flames, the plane that was neither heaven nor hell, that dark and cold despite the flames surrounding it, the reaction to her. Adolla? “...A gray sky?” She murmured darkly, halfway between a question directed at the man and a musing

”Yeah? I guess?” the guy responded, though clearly unsure. ”When you’re that far gone, you don’t exactly remember the details,” he explained, ”it just feels like the best version of the world. It’s fuckin’ weird when you try to put it into words.”

”Fascinating.” Nadia said in a way that didn’t truly mean it as she decided the fate for this lot, There was no enemy to lead them back to. ”How does contact come for you all to head to these sudden meetings?”

Dani stepped back looking as if she’d seen a ghost. She returned to Nadia’s side as she asked about how one was summoned, the scorpion tail dissipating back into her spine.

”Bruv, I told yo dumbass: burner phones or drop points,” the criminal responded, frustrated at the apparent necessity of repeating himself. He started at Nadia for a moment with raised eyebrows and a piercing stare, his face mirroring his contempt for Nadia.

With that Nadia grabbed the man by his shirt collar, lifting him up, even as the bindings meant to hold him down were strained and pulled at. “And where are those? Or should I say when. And don’t try and be smart with me. If you could have done that you wouldn’t be here in the first place.” With the chains pulling at him, his body was more or less on a stretching rack as Nadia fully focused on inflicting pain.

”Biiiiiitch…” he grumbled once getting grabbed. His eyes squinted and a glare of frustration was flung directly at Nadia. ”You aren’t a lot smarter if you gotta ask a question I already answered,” he told her, having no real regard for her grip on him or the situation in general.

”Besides that, I don’t fuckin’ know. This is only my second night,” he told her, pointing out the fact he was new to this whole murderous community. Which might have resounded some with Nadia in the sense he was likely the least corrupt, so he had some sense left to him. Unlike the others that were reduced to gibberish once Dani revealed her tail.

Releasing him, Nadia stared at the rest, walking the line. Harsher means would be needed to make them talk, or they needed a convert, or to assume the identity of another… Or there was that third option she was thinking of. And the more she thought about it, perhaps the better it would be.

“Have they been searched…?” Dani spoke up finally as she looked to Nadia, thinking one of them may have one of the burners on them. Folding her arms, she looked at the others that were mumbling with a narrowed gaze.

“Sergeant? Also I want to get them separated as soon as we can. They will have to be handed over to the DWMA. If they are left to their own devices and in the general population, they will likely bring about dark days… And not because of their faith, but because most of them are mad. How much do you know of wavelengths and the like?” Gesturing with a hand she shrugged. “As to solving this issue, I would rather we not speak of it here in front of them.”

In truth, they were scum and more likely than not between their powers and the unregulated madness they all contained, which even now was infecting the room. Pondering it more, the cup they drank from was likely some form of biological agent inside of it that led to the powers. But how was the question. They were worth little more than test subjects or to be slated for immediate execution. Provided Lord Death didn’t show them mercy.

The simple fact of the matter was, she would have more luck in getting a bloodsucker to imitate one of them with shapeshifting than any of these cult foot soldiers having anything more she could use, aside from beating the codes for their phones out of them. They were useless, just killers that were deranged and had powers only a Meister or sufficiently powerful weapon could deal with. Killing them all would be the safer option…

“Other than that, Dani, I may have a third idea that I’m sure our Sergeant LaCrosse would find more interesting, though once more, not a topic for these few.”


Sergeant LaCrosse didn’t exactly monitor every little thing that Nadia and Dani did, but he was close enough for questioning. His arms were crossed and his face statuesque in listening to the requests from Nadia. And, that’s what they were. Requests. He may have had a distaste for these criminals, but that didn’t mean he defaulted to falling in line with what some no-name agent was telling him to do. Aside from that, his chain of command didn’t include her.

”Jurisdiction over these punks is on the LAPD unless your superiors can pull some strings–and I’m sure they can,” he replied, outlining how the following events were going as things stood. ”Won’t in the end, though. Until you get some convoys from Death City, they’ll be in our holding cells,” he told her, bringing up another logistical point here. Even if the DWMA wanted to take possession of the criminals, such would take time.

”If you want them separated, we can try, but we only have so many empty cells in this part of the county,” he told her, ”but if you want them searched, I’d suggest you do it yourself before their escorts get here. Once they’re in those squad cars, anything on their persons will be evidence and it’ll be a bitch to get your hands on.”

“Oh, don’t worry I won’t be taking them or dealing with their case. I’m not a jailer, I’m a field agent.” She said in a simple reply. “Simply put, you and yours will need to take the greatest care with them, I do not overplay this, but together like this, the mumbling? If left alone, minus the mostly sane one, they propagate and spread madness, meaning if left in concentration or near others, this situation will just repeat. So I will be calling my superiors once we are done here and arranging the transfer. Though your people will have them in the meantime.”

Nadia was past caring if they knew what she was about, they likely didn't have the presence of mind or willingness to even comprehend it, much less to debate it. And unfortunately, she couldn’t just kill them now that they were caught, even the DWMA had laws in regard to this.

“Adrian, keep them confined, I’ll search their pockets, Dani stay here just in case. We’ll get the codes if need be to open them, though if they are burner phones they shouldn’t be encrypted at all. Small wonder why they are the way they were.”

Dani let out a low growl toward the conversation of Nadia and the cop. “Don’t fuck around with them. You guys aren’t equipped to deal with this shit,” She remarked, adding onto what Nadia said. She wasn’t sure if the officer was just giving them an idea of how the bureaucracy is or if he took the warning as a hit to his pride. Either way, it irked the Demon Sword. “You don’t want an outbreak,” She stated further.

Sergeant LaCrosse understood, at least slightly, what the girls meant. He was no spiritual expert, but he knew there were dangers beyond explanation. These girls might not have known it, but cops were a superstitious folk by nature. Even a brute like LaCrosse had a few less-than-logical beliefs he dared not test. Put people like that in a situation with satanic serial killers and spiritual superhumans and only the most incompetent wouldn’t fall in line.

”Get your people to put in the request and I’ll… talk to the Captain,” he responded, though begrudgingly. Not necessarily at them, but at the fact he would need to converse with the very Captain that replaced him some years back.

They weren’t on great terms.

Time marched on and the search did produce some results. Two phones were found and confiscated before the squad cars began arriving to take the criminals away one-by-one. Luckily, LaCrosse could at least decide what order they left in. This bought enough time to find that the phones weren’t encrypted, but were protected with facial recognition. Luckily, once inside them, they were able to disable that meager security.

Unfortunately, the two they found the phones on were the least coherent of the group and no one else knew shit about them. Apparently, the system seemed to be that the ones with the phones would receive instructions to set up local drop points and the ones without direct contact would just check those drop points periodically for their instructions.

The problem they faced at the moment was that these phones just seemed like some standard, off-the-wall GoPhones. Literal burners. They didn’t even have minutes or cell service on them. In short, it wasn’t clear how messages were being sent and received. Trying to pry an answer from the rambling criminals at this point was little different than demanding answers from a brick wall.

The only success found here was that Nadia did make headway in getting mission command to authorize acquisition of the criminals by morning. They would need to be monitored, though, for worsening conditions. Command wanted to study their weird Madness phenomenon, so guinea pigs would be the ultimate fate for these eleven murders.

Probably better than they deserved.

Unfortunately, the safest way to accomplish this throughout the night was to keep them all in a relatively close proximity so that the agents could guard them, excluding Dani who seemed to exacerbate the problem. It was an awkward situation. Sara was battling her odd anxiety around these individuals, Eva was just as bad off, Dani somehow made the situation worse. That left Nadia without Dani, Raph, and Adrian. Logically, more so Raph and Adrian.

The decision as to how to babysit these killers fell on Nadia. Who to put where and how many agents were really needed solely for observation, not to mention the problem of the mysterious phone. They could have them assessed by the technical teams with the police or sent back to the DWMA, but they didn’t have anyone more immediately handy with technology to help out.

With the obvious issues in the situation and the criminals having no value, and were actively spreading Madness, as unaware of it they may be, Nadia had little choice than to deal with this Captain and the Sergeant both, flatly informing them that unless they kept armed guards around them 24/7 or automated defense guns, these men and women would be issues. They literally COULD break these cuffs. Or the ones the cops used at least, she had little doubt they would either escape, or cause a madness flareup in prison. Federal Prison would be a good place for them, something max sec with isolated rooms where the light of day was seen for one hour… But that unfortunately would require a trial, and they really had nothing on them. A lot of suspicion and finger pointing yes, but LA’s finest Defense Lawyers would have them out within a week. This was part of why Nadia had wanted most of them killed.

Now that they were captured, Nadia, though a militant sort, unfortunately had a code of honor. Upon communicating with the DWMA mission control and presenting her plans to them, Plan A, unfortunately, that being the enemy had anything useful to tell them was a wash. And while they DID fear and even seemed to revere Dani, they just as quickly became a babbling mess. The bleeding heart saved a little over half of them, and now was suffering the effects of being in proximity to them.

Then there was plan B. Which was taking the phones and having a blood sucker agent to impersonate one of them, having them “escape” then waiting for the call. This could not be done with such short notice and although the DWMA could secure transfer of the prisoners, it would take a little time to organize a convoy. Not ideal, but it was, what it was.

With Sara and Eva being sent off to patrol the perimeter of the precinct, Nadia stayed at what amounted to an empty desk in the patrol office, Dani close to her, Raph and Adrian would be kept watching the prisoners with a few SWAT Cops on standby should the prisoners get rowdy. Which left Nadia now talking to the Sergeant in an attempt to do plan C, as there was no way the Captain would go for it, it was a pain enough to get the prisoner custody transferred, which was rich, not like the LAPD arrested a single one of them, but it was what it was.

“So. I am left with plan C to solve this incident, but it is one that should prove beneficial to you, once the convoy arrives within the next couple of hours, I would like a list of any and all suspected locations and people connected to the Cult, you can even throw in more troublesome targets that you may wish…, hmm… Solved, da, solved. I cannot promise to kill them of course, but they will be smashed in. Though if we find more with madness like these, enhanced, I would rather kill them in battle, but we’ll take custody of them as well, or have your FBI come in to move them to something that can hold them. No offense sergeant, but these people have power, real power, and they are steeped in madness.”

Pausing for a bit at that she smiled slightly, hoisting up a cheap cup that contained a bit of tea that one of the officers had, the rest seemed to like coffee. Taking a sip, she smiled. “Your men may even have fun with it. I plan to rampage in these areas with my partner’s abilities on full display. The enemy will have no choice but to contact or to confront us. As you saw with the others this seems to cause a religious schism within them. Hopefully we will not be in your hair for a day or two. And if the cultists leave, well, it is no longer a problem for LA.”

Exhausted already from the mental strain of this mission, Adrian just sighed silently as the events transpired around him. All this red tape and police bullshit. Jurisdiction this, plans A through C that. It was annoying. Part of him couldn’t deny that the simplicity of just hunting down as many of these cultists as possible was the much more appealing option.

Something scratched at the back of his skull, though. A seemingly obvious step that they overlooked. Adrian was hardly against cutting some corners, but even he had to admit that jumping straight to what felt like the nuclear option was perhaps a bit premature.

What struck him is how the entire problem seemed to be that they had no leads. Dani seemed to make the cultists turn into toddlers in her presence. Or, more accurately, the presence of her tail. While Adrian thought it was kinda hot, no pun intended, it obviously had a greater impact than he realized. Worse, it was drying up their pool of resources.

The thing was, they did get resources. Adrian couldn’t help but chuckle at the insults slung at Nadia, but it also highlighted a pattern. Their means of communication. The only one to talk to them said that it was drop-off points and burner phones. Well, Adrian had played plenty of games with both burner phones and drop off points.

The entire point of a burner phone was that it was disposable, replaceable, and that it could be provided by someone in command. The entire point of a drop off point was to avoid person-to-person interaction for an exchange. The drop off point couldn’t have been a solid lead at the moment; how could anyone get to it if they didn’t know where or when it was? It didn’t make sense.

But, that burner phone. There had to be more to it. If the new guy wasn’t trusted with one, then it stood to reason that the means of communication was provided to them. It wasn’t something they could just go and acquire themselves. If that were true, this likely was a situation not unlike what the Riddler did to Batman in the Arkham games. He preloaded his own software.

And, that was the end of that logic train. Adrian knew quite a bit about games and was fairly tech savvy with roms, but had no idea what to do with the phone. Still, it couldn’t hurt to at least try something before they went nuclear on alleged criminals in downtown LA.

”Uh… so, Nadia, I got this idea…” Adrian stammered, still hesitant on suggesting anything to Nadia due to her authoritarian attitude, but finding it within himself to muster up the willpower regardless. ”If we gotta hang around the police station anyway to get the deets on the suspects, how about.. You let a professional look at the phone while we’re there, yeah?” he asked, suggested, really, as sensitively as he could.

Pausing to look at Adrian for a bit, she was wondering a bit why he was here, however, she was not angry, though she had not considered that. Still he had gone about it in the proper way. There was no loss of face. “Adrian, you being here aside, I trust you and Raph are swapping shifts? I am not one to denounce an idea, merely as it was not my own. You did this in the proper way.” Still it was another thing to actually ask for something. As a DWMA agent, the cooperation of the Authorities was always a given. Still, she had already made the Sergeant’s day a bit harder.

Sitting her tea cup down, she sighed, picking up the phone and she looked at the man. “Sergeant LaCrosse, while it would be nice to clean up LA a little, I think that may only upset your Captain more, though I get the feeling you would not mind that. I’ve taken your Prisoners and now I would like to take, borrow, your skills. Or rather, those of your men, I ask as a personal favor that your men look into the phone and give us a report or just telling, showing us if anything useful is there. I have no tech specialists, and I barely know how to use a phone to begin with. In return I can do something for you, or see to it that this business is wrapped up quickly, and hopefully without more paperwork for you.

I would just question the prisoners, but they honestly are of no use and are more of a danger to themselves and everyone around them than sane sources of information.”

”Do you want it done officially or quickly? You pick one,” LaCross asked, his tone flat and matter-of-fact. LaCrosse wasn’t particularly interested in the quid pro quo or any other benefits that might have come from this arrangement. The DWMA had already faxed over the pertinent papers to his Captain, explaining the threat-level of these eleven homicidal freaks held in his cells. For as rude as she was initially, she was also right; the danger-level here was beyond that of even mass killing sprees, apparently.

Ego aside, he just wanted shit done. He wanted this out of his city.

Pausing for a bit Nadia wasn’t sure how to process that as she laughed a bit, she herself was on the opposite side of this man, or rather his MP brethren, if only to survive. And now she found herself on their side for several years now. ”I’ll make you a deal, I’ll let you have all but two of the phones so you can go about it officially and use it in your prosecutions or what have you, finding out more of who was killed, and you can keep them, but the one for us, I want it to be a quick side project. I am Raspopova Nadia Semyonovna. Nadia Semyonov. That phone was simply one I found on the ground as it were.” Now it remains to be seen if the man agreed.

The Sergeant exhaled. He wasn’t amused. He could do this, he just needed to know the timeline. If they were submitted into evidence, it wouldn’t be any time soon. If she handed it off to him, it could be done in an hour at worst. He didn’t need some deal or lengthy introduction. But, whatever. DWMA Agents were a weird time. He simply agreed, and took the phones presented to him. The one Nadia gave him for a more personal review immediately dropped off at the desk of one of the lab technicians with a special set of instructions.

Lo and behold, it would have only taken half of that hour to find the hidden messaging app on the phone and bypass its security to see its logs. Here revealed various encoded messages that were broken within no more than ten minutes on a codebreaker algorithm. It wasn’t even complex encoding by the current standard. Little different than a cheap padlock on an old shed; only effective at keeping out good, honest folk.

The messages were coordinated with timestamps, all dated for after they were sent. It meant they were instructions to be at those coordinates at that time. Beyond that, their purpose was unclear.

“Hmm…” Looking at the phone timestamps and dates found within the hidden program, it seemed she was still right on them being idiots, the cultists that is. It would have been by chance or some hours later they would have learned of this upon being received by the DWMA, as, unfortunately short of chance none of hers had the potential to do this. As far as she knew at least.

”Thank you Sergeant. I would offer you a toast of Vodka for an agreement struck, but I have given up drinking on missions. Now we need to find the nearest date and location. I’ll gather my men after the prisoners are handed off, unless your men would like to guard them. Though it should not be long till the transports are here.”


”You’ll need to be a little more specific,” LaCross responded, his tone carrying a touch of sarcasm. Not aimed at Nadia, but instead the sheer volume of information about these attacks the phone had covered. Once the report on the phone had came in, he was given several manila folders, one of which he now slid across one of the police desk over to Nadia.

”There are hundreds of drop locations, all set for O-Nine hundred this morning. It appears their pattern is just to have them ready for mass pickup,” he explained, and, closest is complicated. You want the closest to the attack? The station? Closest to what?”

Narrowing her eyes at the information, or the scale of it, it was amazing and a bit concerning the cult was so widespread and seemingly well infiltrated, “<How in the fuck did this slip through the net so long and so far?>” She said to herself in her native Russian, with only Dani likely to understand as she got to her feet looking through the folders. “It is truly a good thing I saved two of those phones for my side of things, the DWMA will need to see this at once, the rest I assume you will send to other American Authorities?”

Looking at them all, this was a bit more complicated than she was led to believe. ”Closest in Date. I had figured this to be a couple hundred men and women and no more. But this scale hints at thousands. That or they are rather busy killers. To think of this from the enemy point of view, when assaulted I would attempt to withdraw, but I also would not use anyone important at the pickups. A city like this, like all cities I suspect, has plenty of road traffic, more so in the middle of the work morning. Harbors or Airstrips would be the best way out, or even a subway system. Though, I think it best it happens in an area with little civilians on day-to-day business, and I would like the LAPD to block off the area when we go in. Are there any that stick out to you, Sergeant? If you can select a small number, then I’ll just get my team and we plan from there.”

LaCrosse mulled over the information provided. He considered it from a tactical standpoint. He had four years in the military, but absolutely none of it was relevant to this situation. As an officer, he hadn’t seen anything like this before. To say he was out of his element was an understatement. Despite that, he had been one of the most active officers in the crisis over the last few weeks. After his divorce, he had little else to invest his time into aside from work.

”If these were locations meant to be attacked, all of LA would be wiped out in a month,” LaCrosse commented, playing out the possibilities of what was ahead. ”That doesn’t match the rate of attacks, so these must be something else… if they’re drop points, like drug dealers use, then all we’ll find at them are instructions or weapons,” he explained, giving a fairly rational bit of insight from his experience.

”I hate to say it, but patience may be real important here,” he told her, looking over to Nadia, his face stoic and his demeanor serious.

”If they’re dropping off instructions for a meeting or when to attack, then they’re probably just copies of instructions. You could go just wait and yank one. It wouldn’t make a lot of sense to capture anyone going to one to find whatever is there; we just captured eleven and can’t even handle them,” he told her, ”but, there is another option.”

”You could do a good ole fashioned stake-out. Pick a location, wait the rest of the night, and see who shows up to plant whatever goes at these locations,” he explained, ”my boys can probably watch some others and tail them, too, but I’m not sending them in to be shot at. Not all of us can just pick bullets out the air.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, this was not a good set of options, though the man was not wrong. She herself was a brawler, Adrian, Dani, both of them were unstable depending on a situation, no matter how much she could rely on, or cared for the latter. Then there were the two do-gooders. A stake-out was very dicey. However, the DWMA simply did not have the manpower for something of this scale, well not without drawing teams and forces from elsewhere and the Western European branch had been getting its ass handed to it since Paris… US Federal forces could do it, but it took time and political proof to mobilize such. Simply put they had no idea what was at these locations, or enemy numbers, objectives. So far it seemed to be a garden variety cult, but now, it was not so clear.

”Nyet…ah, no, we shall do both as you say in a manner. We shall pick a cluster of the sites that are easy enough to see or move too at one location, and no, I rather your men just watch and report, if they tail, do not engage. As much as I hate to say it, the lunatics do have a little bit of power, if your men have to engage, I would use SWAT Units with orders to kill… Not arrest, kill, we shall keep watch through the night, and if nothing of interest shows we’ll search the spots in the morning. I will also contact Death City and see if they can provide any support, maybe drones. Either way, if they cannot, they will at least have information for further actions.”

The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Merciless Medic Mook-LandStrider​

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Downtown LA​

Early Morning | September 10th, 2067​

For all the discussion and sleuthing that lead up to the decision to observe the locations found on the phone, the results were fairly mundane. Predictable, even, to the police officers. This type of dead drop wasn't uncommon; it just normally wasn't on this scale. In the wee hours of the morning, well before the nine o'clock pick-up time, several individuals in hoodies scoured the city planting various leaflets at the locations listed on the phone. Notably, they also went to several locations not listed on the phone logs. The pentagram calling card on each of the leaflets made it pretty clear that these were in fact tied to the cult.

Now would have been time to make an important decision, yet again, falling to Nadia. The group was currently split three ways. Adrian and Raph were alternating in guarding the prisoners until the DWMA convoy arrived. While each one was sensitive to Madness, they could alternate to alleviate the problem and the broaches they wore mitigated most of the wavelength regardless. Once Dani had been removed from their presence, they calmed down considerably. Similarly, Sara and Eva were able to calm down quite considerably with time. The current ongoing theory was that the ritual itself caused their anxieties, though for differing reasons. This mean Sara and Eva could assist with the stakeout, spread out from Nadia and Dani with other officers to have more eyes--and Soul Perception--present on the streets.

The decision at this time would have been whether or not to try and apprehend one of the hooded figures delivering the messages or wait longer to see who would be picking them up.

The radio flared up. A code was being called across all the stations in department.

"We have 991 at the Deathbucks on the corner of South Alameda Street and East 14th street. No identification on involved parties. Confirmed property destruction."​

Now, it wasn't expected that the DWMA Agents know police code. In fact, they varied between states and even departments. That's why the next words from Deputy Campbell might have came as a slight surprise. "You guys..." he said, bringing attention to Nadia and Dani, "might be interested in that."

"A Nine-Ninety Code is an emergency code for contact with suspected supernatural forces and the Ninety-One confirms violent or otherwise combative behavior has been witnessed..." he explained to them, somewhat nervous and sheepish around the girls. In part because he was a young gun and both girls were fairly attractive. Also, in part, because DWMA Agents were often intimidating to civilians, and neither Nadia or Dani were specifically helpful in that perspective.

The Regal Rper RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen Merciless Medic Mook-LandStrider​

 

[RedArmyShogun]

Nadia Semyonov - Streets of LA
​

Having spent scant few hours asleep during the night, Nadia stood in silence, a pair of binoculars looking at one of the drop sites from a Highrise office, not much of interest had happened. While they could always grab a messenger, Nadia did not expect to learn much from them and while she wanted to keep watching to see who came to the drop sites, the DWMA team leader did not like how limited her resources were. It was not usual to have to investigate like this. Not for her at least. She normally had information she needed and a target to Assault, even that corroded forest was pretty clearcut. And there was but so long till the enemy caught on to their captured brethren, nearly a dozen dead and nearly a dozen captured could not be concealed for long, if at all. Junior though they may be, unless the scale of the cult was as she feared, they would notice.

Turning her head to the young patrolman and away from her thoughts, Nadia listened to what he had to say, her glare as always, the man clearly was not so comfortable around her and Dani, but Nadia didn't much care. "Hmm... Supernatural activity you say. And in a public place, this would normally be what the DWMA is called in for... Is there any more information? Such as numbers, details on the figures? Are we dealing with a bloodsucker angry their latte wasn't red enough or is there a significant presence?"

"We're just police officers, miss. We're not educated on the supernatural... that's why there's a special code that covers any of it. If we knew what it was, we would have a code for it..." Deputy Campbell said in short reply.

Staring at him for a few slow breaths it was debatable what harsh thoughts were going through her head, what anger as she calmly said. "I'm not asking your men to fight it, I'm asking how many suspects there are. Is it one man or a significant number?" With some delay as the question was asked, the answer was vague and frightened a bit even as it called back across the dispatch, dozens. And fighting someone or something else, though seemingly only four.

"Very well, follow these instructions carefully Deputy. I'm asking for the assistance of the LAPD and the Los Angeles County Sherriff's Department. Cordone off the area as best as you can for whatever your command deems acceptable, remove civilians not showing madness spikes, get whatever vehicles are on hand and bring all of my men there, not you personally, but I will need everyone that was with me. Inform the precinct to have armored guards with whatever firepower you have inside and around the holding cell, have Adrian and Raphael keep the prisoners bound, until your men can affix shackles to them, double them up. Then get the two of them there as well. I will of course be going now. Dani, Deputy, let's move. Ah and Drop us two blocks away, we'll go in on foot, give same instructions to the other drivers."

Nadia said, calling to her partner, sleep could wait for when the day was over and won. This wasn't likely to not be separated from the cult, though she was curious who the other party in this conflict was. While she would have liked leaving Raph or Adrian to watch the prisoners, one alone would cause more problems than it solved. It was not ideal, but it was what the DWMA did. If this all was not related, well, they would just start again, but she found that very unlikely.


Interactions: EmperorsChosen (Dani) Sir Les Paul (Adrian) Merciless Medic (Sara - Raph) Mook-LandStrider (Eva)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Yutu Tatigat​

"Astor"​

Species Meister (Werewolf)
Location Daedelon Island
Mission An Ancient Quarry


​

Tags: Merciless Medic EmperorsChosen

It was not difficult to see why the centaurs might have had difficulties with these ants. They were impressive in number, although not quite the overwhelming swarm that ants of the regular size would have. Given their size, it would imply a massive underground network if they did in fact have the same sheer volume. More importantly, these ants proved pretty damn durable. The hunting bows the centaurs used, even if they had iron arrow-heads, likely wouldn't get through the entire carapace of these creatures once they reached a certain size. They did have larger war bows, but those were huge and unwieldy, so it was doubtful they would be reliable given how fast these ants were.

It was a simple as that. The centaurs likely could fight a few of these ants and stomping the small ones would be relatively easy, but the larger ones are definitely where they would prove dangerous as nothing would stop them from getting up close and personal.

Luckily, all three mutants were well-equipped to do internal damage to these ants. As it turned out, small or large, their durable exoskeleton provided next to no resistance to wavelength-based attacks. Astor was able to carve through them like butter, Shiro able to kill them with Soul Force Strikes aimed for any real important part of their body, and Alek could do a combination of striking and using his white blood bandages to bring them down. All in all, it wasn't a difficult fight. Hunting scorpions outside of the DWMA would have provided a greater challenge, and One-Stars handled that just fine.

This fight brought them no closer to their goal of receiving the golden idols, but it did at the quell the infighting that had erupted prior to the mergence of the ants.

Just as the fight might have became dull...

The ground shook.​

Ants are incredible creatures, really. They are easily one of the most successful organisms on Earth. They survive most natural catastrophes, climate change, environmental changes. While true that human encroachment on wildlife might have shrank their natural habitats, ants have a way of encroaching right back. The various species of ants throughout the world have evolved a diverse set of traits, and really, these ants are no different.

One of the most common traits of ants is called polymorphism. Still not entirely understood by entomologists, polymorphism allows ants to drastically change their body shapes and sizes, typically believed to be through mean of heat regulation, extended growth cycles as a larvae, different nutrition rates, or perhaps a queen can just lay a special egg. In any case, these gold-loving, giant ants only got larger due to the supremely interesting evolutionary trait of polymorphism.

The entrance to the mine simply was not large enough for this ant. It was larger than most bull dozers in size; those massive mandibles stretching well over fifteen feet. It had absurd strength, too, able to clear out the entrance of the cave simply by ramming those mandibles into it, sending stone flying. It was an aggressive beast, the ant equivalent of a tank. They had decided it was war. If the exoskeletons of the bear-sized ones were enough to stop arrows, then it would have been a safe assumption that these were even thicker. Given that debris from its destructive exit of the cave bounced right off it without slowing it down seemed to confirm this.

Worse, four more followed it out of the cave. These monsters were much darker than their brethren, in some places just outright black, but they had less hair. Much of their body was shiny, almost gemstone or the shell of a beetle.

Interestingly, following these ant majors--which is what they would go by formally--was a platoon of several much smaller yellow ants. Nimble and quick, these ones scoured out at the three mutants before the majors all even had a chance to exit. They were fast, truly, but were far more disturbing in their behavior. These little yellow bastards came out in droves, but did not immediately rush in for melee combat like the originals. No, instead, many of them stood back and began vomiting an acid spray at the mutants. It wasn't difficult to determine that's what it was, either, as these same yellow ants were vomiting this acid onto their fallen brethren, dissolving their corpses and slurping it back inside them, causing their abdomens to begin to distend. Cannibalistic little fuckers, it seemed.

It factually was more of a necessity. They couldn't let the fresh corpses of their brothers become waste; growing to this size required a massive investment of nutrients and biomaterial.

Biomaterial they intended to also make out of the mutants.

 

[Merciless Medic]

Michael M. Moreau​

---

Mission: Disturbance in Qena w/ RedArmyShogun

Sir Les Paul Peckinou Mook-LandStrider Shotgunpenguin EmperorsChosen The Regal Rper

Date: September 20th, 2067
Location: Eastern Shrine, Qena, Egypt

---

With the order to dispatch the undead that were remaining, a simple headshot or smack to lop off their heads got rid of the threats in the room, leaving Moreau to walk inside and hum as he looked down at the pitfalls. His entire body shivered. “Ah, mage-man. I can see why you’d sense magic in the pitfalls. Those are flesh-eating scarabs. They’re like piranhas, but bugs. I’m sure spiritual attacks would fare better with them. Last time we had a witch with us on a dig, she wasn’t able to kill them as swiftly as the AW on our team. That was a particularly dangerous dig…” He mused to himself before pointing out a path to walk through. “Be careful walking through here. There are some sturdier sections. Walk along those with larger cracks. I know it sounds weird, but the uneven floor that covers the holes will dip inward, making the cracks look like hairlines and fool those walking through. If the cracks are large, that’s when you know there’s some foundation under it.”

To prove his point, he walked along the larger cracked portion of the floor as if he’s walked it a thousand times, making it to the other side of the room fairly easily.

The next room he peeked into, there was an undead struggling against a wall rather weakly. Its arm was stuck in a hole in the room’s right wall, Moreau confused as to how it got there, but it was likely put in there by Evans quite some time ago. However, as the movement stirred at the entrance, the zombie snarled and lurched its hand out to get at the group, only for a portion of that wall to fall away, covering the room in dust. As it settled, the zombie that was there had died, but moaning and groaning from beyond the hole in the wall - which to Ark didn’t seem to have anything else inside - were a group of more undead.

Moreau chuckled and backed off, putting his bandana over his mouth to cover his lips and nose from the dust. “Hah, uh, yeah, I’ll let you guys deal with them. Undead and scarabs are indeed in the walls if the wall or ceiling falls through.”

Thankfully for the long-weapon wielders, the room with the undead was wide enough for their style of combat. The undead themselves looked more recent, wearing just the clothes on their backs, their daggers gleaming with bronze.

 

[The Regal Rper]

Zosar & Wren | Belgium | Duo Trouble

He caught that, from Elly and Maria, subtle shifts or no attempts to hide, the change of expression. Expected, not surprising, couldn't read their minds to tell for certain what they disliked more; the empathizing with a small aspect of a victim in an abusive relationship, or the fact he was entertaining it at all.

The gist has been lost or maybe it just wasn't something they got or in Elly’s case, cared to try to get.

Ultimately their feelings, from what he saw or felt was moot to Midori's. He was the real reason he was here at all.

Ao moved up to Midori, he could feel the sorrow from her roll off like heat from a fireplace, and some part of him sensed something was about to happen. Something bad. Instinct from experience, rang alarm bells in his head, but he intentionally ignored it despite the reflexive way the muscles in his body were subtly constricting in anticipation.

Not out of aggression but bated apprehension.

He felt like he should do something as it seemed like Ao was reaching the end, when Midori interjected he felt he should move- something in his head told him not to, the logical part of him that always gave a 1000 to squash his emotional side, that impulsive reflex gut kick decision that saved himself or his partner or the teams he was on multiple times, was squashed because he knew if he moved aggressively, she’d turn right away from Midori and blitz him with a finisher move before he could even blink.

A blink lasted 0.1 to 0.4 seconds, he hadn't even blinked when Ao had committed to that brutal attack and backed away, he didn't even see movement. He saw a flicker that looked like movement but his mind didn't process fully, and then she was leaping backward.

And he was feeling all the negatives from everyone from her reaction.

One blink and time slowed as Midori keeled forward and Elly caught him. Maria turned and reacted but whatever she said he didn't register it, he was stunned, surprised.

The shock of how quick it had all happened and her departure, the sight of the Corrupted Souls mutating the bodies of the dead, twisting them with what he was certain he could feel faintly as necromancy, warping them in sickening crunches, growing and changing, sounds that didn't bother him, but the fact this was happening so quickly--

It was the sheer surprise that saved him from displaying anything towards Ao.

She was already moving when he registered the enemies she dropped. Small little things, that pulsed with activity as they came alive. Corrupted Souls responding to the dead--

On the move before he could even fully formulate a deep thought accompanied with Maria's righteous yelling--

--he focused, could feel his soul, feel the beat like a heart, a rolling with emotions, turmoil, numbness, anger-- he was still alive- for now- getting him help was key. They needed to end this immediately.

“Wren”, his tone was light, it was almost chillingly casual, more from the surprise still leaving his system but there was a subtle urgency, a command in saying her name alone, a readiness to act.

But she didn’t reply at all.

She stood dead still with her eyes trained on Midori and Elly, watching the blood pool away from him, not even mustering the guts to breathe at that point. There was something on her face, a wet red streak that’d splashed across when Ao pulled her hand from Midori— she didn’t need to look to see what it was.

Arms limp at her sides, Wren didn’t even listen to whatever Zosar said, and if he was saying anything after that, it fell as nothing but alien gibberish on her ears— not a language she spoke right now.

He realized, to his chagrin, to his alarm, that she was in shock.

The clock ticked down by the seconds, something was thumping, getting closer, and she could already feel that tingle of madness the golems were emanating scraping against her neck. Words and sounds were muffled, distant.

There was nothing she could do but ask herself, why. Mull over the situation in those scant seconds of freeze.

Was it a byproduct of her commands that made Ao lash out like this? Did she know from the beginning that this is how their ‘conversation’ was supposed to end? More importantly, could her attempts at keeping this skirmish a mindless chat and not an execution have been in vain?

Could she have done something else? Spoken the right words, in another tone, anything just to prevent this mess from happening?

That’s when she remembered what Zosar had said earlier, in their link:

“It won’t matter either way.” ​

She didn’t know if it was that dazzling, inebriating stench coming from Midori’s blood or if it was the madness the golems were throwing off that was getting to her— but Wren had a smile stretched from ear to ear, clutching at the blood trailing her face. Eyes in an absolute daze.

”So it’s like that…” She muttered low, feeling the clock ticking back. She’d wasted one too many seconds already “Alright then…”

Before Zosar could call out to her again, remind her they had to jump to action, he would’ve felt his wrist get yanked and held up, his hand was enveloped by the usual lightshow as she shifted. Then there she was on his hand, already trying to take wavelength from him without uttering a word, not even minding the buffer of her capacitor as she tried to rev her blades.

She yanked at the cord over and over again, waiting for the engine to roar alive. Merely counting the golems before her for the sake of keeping her mind occupied from the hunger, separate it from what her soul was feeling.

Every time she yanked on that cord, he felt a sharp pull. That yank on his wavelength, like claws on a scratching post, the forceful pull felt like a gravitational jerking sensation that pulled uncomfortably all around him.

He could hear her counting. There were eight. Eight Corpse Golems, each one with a madness wavelength.

Maria’s comment on preservation of teeth while she leaped into action with her golems, all eight now fully formed and rising, was what Zosar really gave more acknowledgement.

Elly calling the golems a distraction was a short sighted judgment call.

Another sharp yank made him grimace, and without trying to hold her back anymore, he gave into it, threw a stabilized dose of energy at her but not what she wanted.

‘Assert control Wren! KEEP fighting it!’

But his attempt to bolster her mind, was a fruitless effort.

Maria's attack landed, and when it did there was a sudden pulse from the golems in response, a spike in the wavelengths of those targeted that was palpable.

For Maria, it was akin to an involuntary shiver down the spine, a wave of disgust and nausea hitting her at the same time. It was like something warm and cold, biting down on her shoulder, caused a jolt from their brain to their every muscle to go on edge.

Elly with Super Soul Perception had it worse, almost just as bad as someone Madness Sensitive. She lost whatever nerve she had and was stripped down to her fear, felt as if the temperature around her had dropped, could feel sweat intensely, slowly, glisten her forehead, decorate her arms and legs as that simple collective shake from the eight, sucker punched her anxiety into gear.

For Wren, it was something else entirely.

Madness by itself impacted a person differently, no one individual had the same experience. Even Zosar who felt the shift where Royal’s was harmless couldn't ignore the new danger these eight posed.

With her already struggling for control however, Wren was woefully ill prepared for what happened next.

It was like the aroma of a restaurant that made her taste buds tingle, throwing this electric energy into the air, through her body, even in Weapon form could feel it, like a beckoning.

In truth Madness lingered in the air for a fraction of a second when that spike came, and that alone was enough.

The yanking on her cord came with the snarl of her inner wolf.

The madness wavelength of eight locked in on her desire to feed, stoked it and then within her soul space, locked in on her and then gifted her the worst reward: sharpened senses.

Her teammates became the focus of those senses.

Elly’s soul and the brief scent of trepidation, Maria's anger and disgust making her soul flare, Midori's turmoil and pain making his spirit the easiest of appetizers, but worst of all to be her focus wasn't her teammates- it was the young man viciously refusing her what she WANTED.

He felt the Madness in her yank, and with stubbornness matching a bull he mentally yanked back, trying to force his resilience into Wren with furious vigilance all while in reality, Zosar made ready to follow suit, commanding Wren to use what he sent her to boost his speed, deliver an attack as he mentally fought with Wren against her fighting Madness. Acting as if the mental battle alone wasn’t starting to strain just a little the more Wren slipped.

In this state though she didn't entirely care. A small fraction did, but it wasn't enough, only enough to barely hold the reins. The attack Maria made and then the following reaction came with a second spike as the attacked became even more enraged. This second spike was similar, easier to fight off if prepared-- Wren however wasn't in the realm of preparation, it was an illusion if she was, Zosar blitzed, even as she fought on focusing, trying to support him and trying to keep a firm hold, trying to deliver some kind of hit that would take one of the eight down--

--he wasn't fast enough.

What happened when that second spike hit Wren was a sensation and within the close proximity-- she was thrown back to Gluttony’s Paramour. Back to how enhancing the ultimate treat’s very presence made everything she put on her tongue feel. How, in this very mission his wavelength had hit her with both a sensational and exciting rush, better than a caffeinated drink to be a pick-me-up, stronger than a sugary delicacy; how easy it was to do Resonance techniques that took her and her first partner weeks, how hard it had been in comparison with few others that took her on, her mind fixated on these facts. How perfect a match they were, how flavorful his presence made everything, she was the compliment to his dish, they were a perfect unison, how they were pulling off all these feats in only two weeks yet they were pulling it off with finesse and he wasn't even breaking a sweat. How the overwhelming rush he had thrown was just a glimmer at what he was really holding back--

Then her mind fixated on something crucial, something important as she warred for control--

It was a singular thought before the dam broke.

He was denying her. Refusing her. Resisting her. He had promised her, he’d stick with her, but here he was preventing her from satiating the voracious ache that his wavelength if released could soothe. That only his wavelength in this moment could soothe before she turned to the others.

She yanked hard, and Zosar, swinging Wren, staunchly resisted her as he moved on one of the golems, trying to eliminate it from play swiftly. The attack struck but the instant it did and he pulled back, he felt a disturbance, as if the boat on water were on the verge of capsizing.

Two howled as one.

She had asked nicely, the tug had been a kindness, now there was no more.

Her eyes became the true slits of her were-kin, not the decorative pretty slits she adorned but perfect monstrous pupils, sclera slightly changing, teeth even slightly sharpening within their soul space as she was bathed in struggling madness.

Hair dipped down in saturation, turned a darker shade of silver for a cloudy darkish gray, her nails morphed to durable claws and anatomy toned instinctually, her body becoming more lean for speed but with strength like she could outrun cheetahs for days and take down lions or elephants, feats she wasn't completely capable of reaching like practiced members of her clan could do but within their soul space became attainable as her Madness began winning.

She tugged at his wavelength one last time, this time digging claws and hauling it right out of him. Deciding to give in, he let her pull.

Shuffling out of her balance, clutching at that heat splayed on her face, feeling her heart hammer against her ribs; shoulders rose, heaved and shrugged with every staggering breath she took as she saw her capacitor bloat to the brim, feeling that rush of adrenaline like lightning flaring her every nerve.

That’s when the chainsaw roared, near jumping out of Zosar’s hand the moment it started burning through every ounce of that storage. The initial kick he would’ve felt on his wrist from the chainblade wasn’t anything like before, it was raw and uncontrolled, overpowering.

Every bone rattled for that split fraction the chainblade took to rev up, from the knuckle of his ring finger and up to his skull. Amplification prevented his hand from being damaged but the struggle was real now. It didn’t calm down either, it didn’t let itself be swung, not without threatening to fly out of his grip.

This wasn’t the optimal, perfect resonance they’d practiced. She was messing up.

The moment she noticed that, that sliver of the her struggling for control took over her rabid, drooling self. Her face scrunched up, looking at her hands like they weren’t hers. Just a passenger in a body moving on instinct, desire. Like a damn animal.

But she wasn’t around the bend just yet. She could hold on.

It was the same pull she felt gripping at her stomach back in the Sahara Desert, when she first lashed out. Maybe even worse than before. An unearthed hunger pooling, and it was like fighting against the tide. Made her want to claw her stomach out.

“I…m sorry…” With whatever reigns she still had on herself, Wren keeled over, grasping at either side of her, shuddering. Her voice was strained, broad with feeling. She barely managed to strangle out a few words. Growling, groaning— miserable.


Those narrow slits locked in on the corpse golems, in a desperate attempt to aim her hunger at them, drive it away from her team “J-Just kill those golems…! P…put me down if I…I…” It started creeping back in, she had to bite down and tighten her jaw, focus up.

Deep inside, that small portion of herself wanted to believe that she wasn’t just a starved wolf. But the collective whole of her soul knew that resisting it was useless, it was in her nature.

When the hunger came back around, she couldn’t hold onto that belief any longer. She accepted it for what it was, for the slightest moment.

In their shared soul space, in that vast storm of Zosar’s and that ambling lightning of Wren’s, she heard something, right on the shell of her ear. She turned, blinked, and the dark walls surrounding were waning. Like an empty world crumbling, shifting to meet her gaze, it dripped down and lapped towards her. Until she was almost neck-deep in it, looking to drown in it.

When she turned again, blinked, she was…somewhere else.

The darkness began to dissolve, move away from her. Like the swash pulling away from the shore. Where it waved it revealed a checkered floor, trailing a high-decorum hall that blurred where the eye tried to meet its end. Marbled, headless statues. Antique pillars. Regal candelabra. Classic symphonies echoing on a distant record player; an earworm she’d heard before.

Wren looked down to see herself sat atop a velvet throne, watching an orderly console table splayed before her eyes, stretched from her end to somewhere her eyes couldn’t reach. Countless empty seats flanked it on each side; countless guests that never showed up.

It was a royal banquet.

She froze, taking in the sights, the music— a shoulder slipped from the armrest of her throne, and she allowed herself to fall on it, let it catch her. Cackling mad, with a tight face like she wanted to burst out crying, she slammed a fist again and again on the dining table.

“Just hold on, eh…”


He was barely even managing that as her saw whirled wild.

Collabers: Haze-

Interactions: RedArmyShogun EmperorsChosen
Sir Les Paul