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Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Wed Jun 17, 2020 7:36 pm
by Gwathdraug
Wings folded back Erin and their new copy streaked down towards the position of the cat-bomber. With a soundless snap the pair unfurled their wings cutting from a dive into a quick glide that saw the original - smirk hidden beneath the now-full mask - landing firmly on the back of Riley's construct. The second Erin tilted their wings and began to orbit around the flying-cat defensively.

Looking over her shoulder, Riley could see her other self kneeling down over Eryl, the dark wings of the other magician folding protectively about the triclop's unconscious form. Cargo secured. The thought seemed a bit rude as it was sent from one Riley to the other, but the stage magician only had time for a simply reply: Keep her safe!

Turning her attention towards Shame the brown haired woman could feel her own smile pulling itself into place borrowing confidence from the smirk her counterpart was sporting. "From what I understand-" Riley called back to Jane as she began to figure out what she needed to do to get the tail end of the bomber pointing directly at their enemy. "-as long as you stay cool enough you shouldn't fall!" Raising one hand up Riley rolled her wrist, her fingers disappearing amidst a flourish and reappearing holding a stiff-brimmed, flame patterned cowboy hat that was formed from a split fragment of courage itself. "You'll probably need this!"

As Riley tossed the hat in the air the spare Erin still flying was almost a blur as it caught the accessory and then air dropped it straight to Jane. The magical gunslinger had only a few seconds before the cat-bomber was suddenly climbing, and then the whole construct and everyone on it were hanging upside down as their stage magician pilot pointed the bright white and blue striped tail straight towards where Shame was flying.

At the edge of the tail the air shimmered and was suddenly painted with brightly coloured circles highlighting multiple weak spots from wounds to gaps in the enemy creature's rended armour. To the left of this field a smaller cat burrowed its way out from under the tail's thick fur. The smaller construct was wearing a pair of goggles and had a lever-action rifle strapped across its back and held a sign declaring: WELCOME TO OUR CATALYZER GATE! With much fluffing of tufts a second cat, this one with a pair of pistols holstered by its hips and a long blue mustache blending into its white jowls, unborrowed itself and held up its own sign.

STRIKE WEAK POINTS FOR CATASTROPHIC RESULTS!

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2020 9:08 pm
by Straken
“Why do I taste licorice and… tabasco?”

The borderline nauseating combination of flavors hitting his tongue jolted him awake just as much as the healing effects of the potion itself. With his left hand he grabbed the small goddess and pulled her away, coughing as the vile vial left his lips; holding Tulan by the collar near his side. The events of what transpired before came flooding back, filling the void of the memory of the dream that began to fade. He felt oddly at peace, but felt his adrenaline spike again as he remembered being stabbed.

“S’pose Ah owe you some thanks. For a couple of things now.”” the Druid said, looking down to Tulan, while his gauntleted right hand gripped the Dreamer’s Needle. Looking forward, or more accurately down, at Akanus, he placed the sennit on the armor. Then an idea came to mind. Although the chances of it working were likely slim, Ruarc at his core still preferred avoiding fights when possible. Pinching the needle, he lifted the trinket to his mouth and bit down; pulling the needle out of the cord. Looking down one more time at Tulan, he gave a one shouldered shrug.

Moving his arms and legs a bit, he oriented himself in space facing Akanus. Extending his arm, he had the needle lying flat on his thumb, and braced with a curled index finger. He was going to flick the needle. Focusing, he put some of the newfound energy into the wind rune, hesitating a bit as he tried to put enough to make the wind plus needle hit the target, but not so much that he blasts Akanus to bits again.

“pLeash 'ake uh', Ahknu,” Ruarc mumbled as he tried his best not to ruin the cord in his mouth.

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 8:14 pm
by Mr. Blackbird Lore
Jane was nonplussed when Riley tried to explain the Rule of Cool to her. Gravity quickly filled in the details, though, as the flying cat cannon flipped upside down. Gloved gunslinger hands buried themselves deep in fur and faded jeans were clamped tight around ribs in startling reflex.

"You'll probably need this!" Jane glanced back just in time to catch the hat. The pattern was so foreign to her as to make the entire object unrecognizable to her at first glance. When she finally understood the flame-patterned travesty she held in one hand, Jane groaned a mixture of exasperation with Riley and disgust at whoever was first compelled to create such a horrendous accessory.

Then she clamped it down tight on her skull, and it filled her with a sense of determination not altogether unlike what she would have felt if it had been her hat. As if in sync, the end of the cannon tail lit up like a holographic overlay of her opponent. Her hands seemed to naturally find the grip and trigger of the beast-weapon and her mind comfortably slid into a rifleman's poise. She lined up the largest of the highlighted points.

As she pulled the trigger, the words she whispered were stolen by the rushing wind and blasted into a million incoherent phonemes, like dry leaves in a hurricane.

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 9:01 pm
by Kai
As Miyuki was feeling the exhaustion of casting so much magic in quick succession, she felt something on her cheek- Warm, familiar, she turned toward the sensation but saw nothing, a flicker of emotion, of want for him whom would have given such, it was washed away suddenly by the gentle pressing of an object into her open hand. "One of his..." she muttered to herself, the otherworldly words ringing softly in her ears. Indeed, she was nearly ready to give the potion to Ruarc, as he was more wounded than she, but the Druid was too far away, and seemed to have been given one of his own. Smiling, her eyes became moist with happy tears for just a moment, before the liquid froze and was whipped away by the blustering winds.

Grateful, Miyuki pulled the top off the bottle, and downed it. again, it was warmth, a feeling of deep contentment and an easing of the pain that she had largely become accustomed to through many battles and adventures. it spread through her, easing the aches and revitalizing her, even her own emergency measures melting and drifting away as he potion worked on her body. Thus, renewed and reinvigorated, Miyuki turned to the oncoming enemy. The arctic key was gripped in her hand, but instead of by an end, she shifted her hand to the middle. a subtle weaving of Ice magic stringing the item as if it were a bow, a lance of ice forming in her off hand, which drew back, and then released, sending a lance of Ice at Akanus as a final attempt to stop his corrupted form before she took measures to slow her own fall and avoid becoming part of the landscape.

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Tue Jun 30, 2020 4:31 pm
by Kokuten
A storm had snuck up on them in the fighting. Broiling thunderheads began to threaten rumblings above as well as the dying explosions below had done. Clouds wisped through, and rain began to fall upon the fires below. The thunder, however, was the least of their worries.

"Your deaths, I will bear them," howled Shame, rivulets of shadowy blood whipping off the eye-holes of his helmet. His horrid wings beat against the buffeting gales as nature seemed to turn against him. Jane could see him lining up his shots as she adjusted herself. The shade's focus was entirely upon the cat-bomber, " just as I bear hers."

THOOM, THOOM, THOOM, THOOM, THOOM.

Five shots, like a battery of cannons. Each had a trajectory that bent towards the passengers. The first came screaming down and the cats holding their signs went into action. A lever-action rifle was unslung, and the the Catalyzer Gate sign went flopping off into the wind.

BLAM!

One shot struck the oncoming round, sending it off course. A pair of pistols came unholstered, and the Weakpoints panel joined its brother off into the clouds.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Rapid pistol shots tore upward, deflecting two more of the incoming strikes, but it wasn't enough to hold back the remaining two. Like artillery shells they came down above, Erin's copy intercepted the first, but her body could not withstand the full brunt of a direct hit. The last continued through her dissipating mist, aiming to take out Eryl and the real Erin next. A bloodied hand shot up at the last moment, and a wicked shield caught the last hit, forcing the projectile to ricochet harmlessly into the storm.

Their resident Maelgwyn coughed, having come to at the sound of cannon shots, the scent of blood-magic fresh on her hands. She barely had time ask where she was before Jane took her shot.

Carefully aimed, lovingly directed, and mildly assisted, the return volley came back to greet the offender with violent effect. Jane's bullet tore against wind and rain, then sank into the skull of the shade, the force blasting the helmet off and most of the skull underneath. At that, the bomber cat and the fallen angel passed each other. Shame's wings were still flapping wildly, a gout of blood contrailing in its wake, there wasn't much of the head left.

Yet it tried to fight on, hissing a gurgling song of hate as it turned, aiming to strike the cat again. It almost made its senseless turn before a spear of ice came down from above, sinking into the horrid creature's neck, plunging deeply through the collar and down through the thigh. As if it had a face to do so, it looked up at Miyuki, catching the sight of her falling with a staff wielded as a bow.

"I... AM THE LAST GUARDIAN." hissed Shame, his voice clear to their minds, but sick noises accompanying from where its head had been, "THE STALWART, THE WIND! I WILL NOT FAIL HER! I WILL NOT! NOT WITH A THOUSAND LANCES; FOR I AM..."

Thwip.

The wretched and wounded shade stole a look at its chest, a small, harmless needle having embedded itself past the sundered plates and through the woolen uniform. The declaration had stopped cold, with only a meager, sputtering name to signal the end of Shame.

"I am ... Ah... kagh... ... nuhs..."

Withering as the other shades had done, the creature fell towards the surface below, its crumpling body disappearing into the foamy clouds.

The only remaining sound was the wind, and the path was open to the Centrifuge.

They could see it, a massive dome of black tar, surrounded by a littering of little dots on all sides. It was hard to make out what they were, but the land was immensely scarred surrounding the structure.

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Thu Jul 02, 2020 11:25 pm
by Straken
The group’s assault paid off, it seemed, as the launched needle found its mark through the shade’s shattered defenses. While ideally the Druid had hoped the needle would have done something miraculous, the rational part of his mind made it clear that it already had; Shame was defeated, and Ruarc had evaded Death for the time being with its help. He felt a bit of catharsis as Akanus faded away, but also a pang of guilt. Whereas when fighting Sorrow he had been fueled by rage, all Ruarc had felt on the tail end of this fight was for Akanus to wake up. There was no elation or cheer, and the look on his face was one of regret.

“I hope you wake up,” Ruarc said softly, drowned out by the wind.

”Now how about landing, Tom Petty? Laoise said, a feeling of relief coming from her as she was certain the Irishman would be alright.

”Ha, good one,” Ruarc thought with a laugh. ”But we’ll be fine.”

As the ground closed in the Druid pulled up his hood to give some added security to the dove still gripping his hair, and then tucking Tulan under his arm so she wouldn’t go flying off either. With all the passengers in their seats, Ruarc readied his next move. He didn’t have his staff or tome, so any spell he cast would have a hard time focusing, but in this particular instance that wouldn’t be a bad thing. Extending his free hand again, he held it open palm rather than putting power into any of the runes. Taking a few deep breaths he gauged distance and focused on the air flowing around him.

“Séideán láidre”

As he spoke the words, Ruarc could feel the flow of magic channeling the air through him and down his arm. Lacking an arcane focus, the torrent of air released like a magical shotgun with gusts of strong wind pressing out in a wide pattern without much at all in the way of range. There were times and places when this kind of casting can be helpful, but since it can also be harder to control he rarely ever did it. For trying to slow a fall though, it was reasonably well suited; if nothing else, the potion he had ingested and the residual durability from Stone Skin made him somewhat confident he could handle the rest of the fall.

The wind whipped, and once the ground was a short way off he closed his hand and cut off the flow of magic. Dropping a wee bit further than he had really intended, Ruarc landed on braced legs. Standing still momentarily as he let the shock of the landing pass. Looking around, he took stock of the destroyed surroundings.

“Well, we really did a number on this place, now didn’t we?” Ruarc said absentmindedly, before relaxing his arm and lowering Tulan to the ground. Now with a free hand, he lifted it up into the air, and said a quick chant; summoning his staff back to him, if it and the Babylon gem affixed to it weren’t destroyed in the blast.

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2020 5:49 am
by Gwathdraug
Looking towards the tiny Decanus following her, Riley gave the small rogue a thumbs up as the battle came to a close. "We looked good didn't-" The large smile on the woman's face didn't disappear as she froze, but her eyes darted to the cat-bomber beneath her feet. The blue and white fur was sticking straight up into the air and quivering in a motion that conveyed very well a single concept: distress.

"Oh. That's not good." The stage magician's grin only spread wider with manic energy as she spoke softly to the construct beneath her. Kneeling down Riley gave the large cat a good scratch before clapping her hands together as a series of flashing, klaxon blaring red lights burst into a cacophony of mixed sound and harsh flashes dominated their way across the spine of the beast.

THE RIDE HAS COME TO A CLOSE. THIS RIDE HAS COME TO A CLOSE. THANK YOU ALL PARTICIPANTS.

The disembodied voice cut across the keening of the rest of the activity, it wasn't Riley's and the stage magician could only nod for a moment at the gravelly, clam authority that had gone into crafting the declaration into her spell - she had honestly forgotten about excitedly adding it as a component near the end of the whole conjuring.

"Hey!" Crossing down the spine, alight with the various warnings now repeating themselves, Riley nodded approvingly at her copy who was still holding onto Eryl. "Hold still and, ah, just fly us down off this death trap okay?" On the far sides and below the cat creature's paws and wings were already unraveling into streamers of twisting, fog bearing light.

Not waiting for a response Riley awkwardly sized up the exact copy of herself in front of her and, with a shrug, began latching on and clambering up on the doppelganger's back. "What are you-" The voice that squawked out was her own, and the voice responding being same de-railed the conversation into a muttered mix of a one-person comedy routine. "You gotta fly us down- I can't with this much weight- Wow! You know we're the same- Is this really the ti- I think so- Well, I think not- We can weigh nothing."

The two Rileys, one still in their full faced black mask and the other reduced back to their half and opposite copy, suddenly dropped their champion efforts at glaring at each other and, with an enthusiastic nod, turned themselves and Eryl all together ethereal dropping down through the fraying construct as if it had never been there at all.

--

To the side with Jane, Erin's full clone, watched their progenitors make well of their title as fools with a snort. The black winged mage eyed the garish hat that Riley had just had to create for Jane with distaste before dismissing it with a snap of two black talons. Then, with a shallow bow to Jane, the copy's copy spread its wings in an offered display of its current capabilities.

"Good Lady, Good Partner, I would not assume but-" The looked towards where the head of the cat-bomber was now entirely gone and with each passing second more bumps and hiccups were introduced to the rapidly disappearing flight plan. "-do you require my assistance?"

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Mon Jul 06, 2020 1:08 pm
by Kokuten
As the group began to land, the sight surrounding the massive dome became clear to them. The colorful dots surrounding the structure were not dots at all.

They were bodies.

The field was a torn landscape, drowned in a howling wind that swam through standing swords, spears, and staves. They were thralls, or at least they looked like the thralls that followed the Gods of the Elementalia Magicus. Many of the bodies shared the corrupted features of the shades, stretched over colorful heraldry that represented the guardian that they served. Most had perished in what seemed to be a bloody assault upon the centrifuge. There were craters that still hazed with magical energies, broiling the air, corpses scattered like leaves around the blasts. Lances of earth and metal protruded from the bodies of the assaulting force. It was a battle that had as much magic as martial prowess, and the destruction that resulted from that mix showed.

There were polluted colors of blue, white, silver, and black; all scattered in the wide mass of slaughter.

As he waited for his staff, Ruarc and soon Riley could see a line of red and black heraldry littering what seemed to be a breach in the dome. The killing seemed to have been at its thickest there, and a consuming darkness wafted from within. Whatever happened, it seemed that there had been some success to the attack.

The tree line surrounding the dome seemed to evenly circle around the structure, and they could see bodies stretch as far back as into the forest. The attackers appeared to have charged from all directions, flooding into the dirt-trodden field. The only structure besides the dome was a small pile of stones that Ruarc would recognize was the place they had first met Tulan, where she had struck him with a bag filled with a chest.

After a moment of standing among the howling winds, the sound of a flying object began to rise above the silence. Ruarc's staff was coming to him, but from the direction opposite of the town where they stood. As it returned to him, he found it in no poor condition, but it had been considerable singed and chipped.

Eryl meanwhile, in the care of stage magicians, opened her eyes wide as they fell through the Cat. She went limp as she lost consciousness again, missing most of the descent.

Aulan slowly came to the ground next to Ruarc, having used Miyuki's mystical parachute to keep herself from hitting the ground too hard. She stumbled a bit, but landed on her feet, which didn't matter as she soon came to her knees at the sight that had been waiting for them.

"What... What happened... Mr. Flynn..." Aulan's voice shook. She looked up to him, a youthful fear in her eyes, eyes that weren't suited for things like this. "Why is this happening? What is happening?"

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2020 1:37 am
by Mr. Blackbird Lore
Jane gave a grim nod of satisfaction. She couldn't smile anymore- not here, not now, but she could be content in victory. And she was. Everyone still lived, which was a miracle in itself, and they had come to the Center Of It All. The Finale. The Big Showdown. This was where Calamity Jane Smith truly came into herself. But first things first.

"Yes, ma'am, n thank ye for obliteratin that nonsense." Jane looped an arm around Erin and let her carry them to the ground far below. It was a little strange being on the receiving end of a rescue for once. Strange, but not unwelcome. On the ground, she separated herself with another quiet, "Thank ye."

She paused after a couple steps, finally realizing what all those dark shapes were. That foreboding breeze struck her and tugged at her coattails, as if pleading for her to turn back. It's not too late, it might have said. You can still leave here alive, it might have suggested. But war and death did not scare her. They were colleagues, playing the part of enemies as often as they were allies.

The Calling had brought her here, and the proof was on the wind. An object of irregular dimensions tumbled across the ground, caught in the skirling breeze. As it came toward Jane, the wind picked it up and she snatched her trusty hat from the air to pull it low over her eyes.

She steeled her heart for the likely losses ahead; she walled her mind against the distractions of corpses, and uncertainty, and friendship; she tensed and eased her body, her hands naturally settling on revolver grips.

When she finally looked up once more at the ominous dome, it was with that cold fire for which she was so well known. She began the Foreboding Walk, silently and without waiting for her companions to follow. It was a stride filled with determination, barely suppressed fury, and love. It was a warrior's battle stride.

Re: [Chapter 1.2] The Call of the Centrifuge

Posted: Tue Jul 07, 2020 9:47 pm
by Straken
Ruarc tightened his grip on his staff, and shifted his head as he looked down to Aulan so that his face was mostly obscured as he considered the question. Growing up, he had always laughed at the trope of mysterious hooded figures and their attempt to hide in shadows, but right this instant he found the technique his best bet to hide his uncertainty from the young deity; what’s more, his tightened grip lended itself to reducing how much his hand was surely shaking. He tried to find some piece of wisdom that he could share and alleviate Aulan’s worries; tried to find anything at all, but when his eyes met the kid’s eyes it took all he had to hold his stern demeanor.

Maybe it had been the near death experience a minute earlier, but he was suddenly struck by how close in age he was to Aulan; or rather, how young everyone present truly was. Casting about, he took in every bit of the carnage surrounding him that he could. Aulan was looking for understanding from someone hopefully wiser. All he knew was that no kid that age should have to see destruction like this.

”Wisdom is born from experience,” Ruarc thought as his eyes lingered on a body. ”A man burned by fire is by all accounts wiser for it. If any good may come from all of this, then let me become wiser.”

Absentmindedly the druid reached up and felt the hole over his heart on his chest piece where a bullet had struck him, before letting his hand wander down to his abdomen when a bayonet had run him through; his gloved hand came away with tacky blood that had yet to fully congeal. Two moments that should have killed him in the last ten minutes, not to mention Laoise dying not long before then. For a second he couldn’t remember how old he was. His eyes sank once more as he realized he was still over a year shy of thirty.

The flutter of a duster drew his attention, and the sight of Jane almost silhouetted as she moved forward seemed to give him what he needed. Releasing his staff and letting it rest in the crook of his right arm, Ruarc leaned down and gave Aulan a pat on the head. His hand was strong and reassuring, the shake that had plagued it before mercifully absent.

“I don’t know, Aulan,” Ruarc said honestly. ”Something is broken, and the break runs deep. But, that’s why they called a handyman. I can’t fix what has been done, but I promise I will do everything I can to try and get this world green again. For the time being, hold on to this for me.”

Lifting his hand from the kid’s head, Ruarc unclasped his cloak and draped it over Aulan. It was heavy, well-worn, and warm; but in a comforting and cozy way. Standing back up to his full height, he gave a couple of test tugs at the other pieces of warded leather armor now visible. Dark leather vambraces and pauldrons hugged close to the Irishman’s arms. These, along with the chest piece, newly added right gauntlet, and a pristine white dove perched on his shoulder made for a curious sight as they fit over top of the man’s practical attire of dark green flannel, faded denim, and work boots.

Taking his staff in hand once more, Ruarc slammed the end of it onto the stone with a resounding crack. A moment, and a deep breath, later Ruarc strode in behind Jane.