.hack//DIVERGENCE Main

[Zavier_D]

Zavier slowly opened his eyes, the bright glow finally subsiding. Before he could even focus on the room, he was buffeted by cold. Not from wind…but from everywhere, from all sides of the area around him. He immediately clinched his teeth and looked around. He was in a small hallway, only a few feet from another room. Inside the small room was a small layer of water that seemed to be coming from the waterfalls that covered the walls. In the very center was a small slender girl on top of an upside-down cross, with a grand waterfall around her. He could tell that she was in pain, though she did not move. The air around her was extremely cold, and it was even beginning to get to him.

“I need to hurry and get her out of here. I don’t think she’ll drown…the water level doesn’t seem to be changing.” He walked up to the girl who, surprisingly enough wasn’t all that unattractive. “Let’s get you out of there.” He walked towards the girl and put his hands out. As his hands reached the water she was caged in, he became dizzy, almost passing out. He barely managed to remove him hands. “I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. Some kind of spell to sap the toucher’s strength? Let’s look at this more closely.”

If she were shackled to the cross he could not see how. She hung suspended in the waterfall, which made up the bulk of the room. While it looked like just normal water, his experiment earlier let him know that it had some kind of property that seemed to affect the character data of whoever got near it. This would make sense if the girl couldn’t free herself from the water. “First, let’s try brawn: sometimes the easiest solution is the correct one.” Zavier stood up, pulling out the Heaven’s blade and pointing it at the water. “I have to careful and not hit her…she might be as fragile as she looks. Rue Revolver!” Slowly the water element began to form around his sword and Zavier jumped, allowing his body to turn to an angle, allowing his sword to swing vertically, not horizontally. The sword picked up speed as his body spun, and he moved into position. His sword crashed into the water fall, spewing water to the sides. Zavier smiled as the sword slammed at it, removing a lot of the water that covered the young girl. As the move finished, Zavier landed on the ground and sheathed his sword. He looked up…and groaned.

While his Revolver had been able to remove a lot of the water that surrounded the girl, the water quickly recycled back to its former position. “Hm…if all of this has to do with water element, perhaps I can use the Water Dragon. With this aura, he might actually get stronger…it might grant him the ability to manipulate the water.” Slowly Zavier closed his eyes, calling on the power Water Dragon. It came to him in a rush, a torrent of water surrounding his body, imbuing his muscles with incredible strength. His blue eyes darted across the room, the Water Dragon allowing him to see what normal eyes could not. “Strange…this water looks unlike anything I’ve encountered.” The power of the dragon began to reach out to the water, trying to become a part of it. Zavier felt it working: his consciousness was expanding, and he could feel the water trickling down the walls. He pushed it further, merging the Water Dragon with it, giving him control over the water. He opened his eyes, though he wasn’t seeing with them; they were the eyes of the Water Dragon now, and he was in control.

He began the manipulation immediately. The water surrounding the young girl began to shiver, slowly understanding and obeying the Water Dragons wishes. Slowly, the water began to change its course, a small hole opening in the front. Zavier smiled as the hole widened and widened, now big enough for a hand to get through, now for an arm, now for two…and now one arm, and now one hand. Zavier lashed out with his will, trying to force the water to continue moving. It lashed out in response, sending some type of feedback through the Water Dragon. Zavier began shaking, the Water Dragon struggling under the pressure. Whatever this feedback pulse was, it was literally breaking any control the dragon had over the element. Zavier sighed as he slowly let go, allowing the water to return to its course. He relaxed, releasing the water dragon, and looked at the water once more. “If only I had been able to achieve the Fire Dragon…this would be cake. I guess I’ll just have to use the next best thing.”

Zavier reached into his suit and pulled out one of the only two scrolls he had…a Vak Rom. He normally would never, ever use a scroll for a situation, but when everything else failed, they normally succeeded. He couldn’t help but sigh as he looked at the scroll, and then looked up at the girl. “I only have one shot at this, so I have to make it perfect…young lady, if you’re listening, I’m sorry if this hurts a bit, but it’s the only way I can get you out of there.” Zavier reached back to throw the scroll…then stopped, thinking of a better idea. Since it was rom spell, it would be best if it had some sort of focuser, something to help it impact a direct spot. He could think of nowhere better than the water directly in front of the girl. He pulled out his sword and wrapped the scroll around its blade. “Alright….when this hits the water, it most likely will activate the spell. Hopefully that fire is strong enough to buy me the time I need.” Zavier stood ready, his wings bristling with power. He would need every ounce of strength and speed he could muster for this to ensure success. “One…two…GO!” He dashed forward, using his wings to give him an extra boost of speed. As his sword slammed into the waterfall, he called out the spell, the scroll activating immediately. As he had hoped, it focused along his blade, directing the flame energies towards the edge of the sword. The water began to turn and froth, and slowly began to evaporate. “Now!” Zavier rushed towards the water, the hole barely big enough for him to get his arms through. He reached out to the girl and grabbed her, not too fiercely because she seemed very delicate. He felt the spell winding down, and as he brought the fae through the opening, the sword fell, the spell ended, and the waterfall closed in on itself. Zavier couldn’t help chuckling at the situation. “When in doubt…ask for a scroll.” He slowly placed the fae on his shoulder and sheathed his sword. He walked back into the room, eager to know what these girls had to tell them.

“She’s from door number 3.”

[Senna]

Senna hadn’t answered Hac, only given him a somewhat apologetic smile. She hoped it wouldn’t be taken as a sign of smugness – that was certainly not its intent – but rather as a sign that she really didn’t have any place to comment on his rustiness or non-rustiness at the art of battle. Nine times out of ten she’d be shown up by him – he’d proven himself the better fighter by a bit more than once, and she wasn’t about to think less of that for the result of a solitary battle against a relatively small number of enemies.

So she hadn’t answered, but his later Flashmail earned another nod and a smile. That one had been puzzling her, but he’d gotten it fine. She was surprised he’d heard her, until she remembered that she actually HAD said it out loud, not just in her mind, the way she usually commented. It was a little embarrassing, now that she was thinking about it. At least no one else had heard. She trusted him, so if she accidentally said stupid things, he might laugh but it would, she hoped, he good-natured. Trust was an important thing. Lately, it seemed harder and harder to come by.

Thus she thought as she listened to first Rayo’s idea, then Canti’s willingness to join in said plan. There was no denying that it was a decent enough plan, if it worked, and she didn’t think they were really out anything if it didn’t – assuming the room’s limit didn’t trigger and leave only the grunty in the room to face whatever lay there.

(As an aside, she still found the sight of the Wavemaster and his grunty to be amusing. It wouldn’t do to laugh though. She was pretty sure it would never be wise to laugh at this person. Or most of the Freedom Fighters, actually.)

A good idea it might be, but there was one thing about it – Senna didn’t WANT to go into one of those rooms. That sounded… well, unduly dangerous. Separating yourself from the group in a field, going into the unknown without anyone to back you up or save you if you failed? Well, she supposed following his plan was going to negate the lack of backup, but still… isolation was for home base, not for out here.

“Why not you and Canti?” Senna asked. “Flight might come in handy?” She didn’t mention that Canti also just looked badass at the moment. It was a little intimidating. She was saying this when Hac approached the little clot of people with his own comments and insight.

And with this, a new thought. Could there be something aimed for those left in the main little room? But no… while he was talking, Phoenix came out of one room, and shortly after, Zavier returned from his chosen course. Zavier didn’t have much to say, but Phoenix, as usual, did. Senna schooled herself to silence as she listened to his appraisal of the room he’d gone into along with the rest of them. It seemed if that were the case, perhaps Hac was right and Rayo’s plan wouldn’t work – though if it came to that, there was still no reason not to try it, right? What was the worst that cou…

Wait. Forget she even thought about asking herself that.

“No, your points were well-taken,” Senna commented to Hac once Phoenix had finished saying his piece. She felt a little chill down her arms, like a cold breeze, as her mind started working on what they were all saying. Phoenix suggested these puzzles were fairly easy – they were the sort of skill-based puzzles that the Freedom Fighters seemed to excel at solving. So maybe there was more to all of this, as Hac suggested.

“Or, not that we could do anything about it,” she mused aloud, “But maybe they’re just using this to slow us down.”

But for what? To prepare something? To give them time for whatever they’d planned for the more specific traps they’d gone through to get here? Something with the Fae? Sighing, she sat down on the ground, eyes on the three still-closed doors. It didn’t matter. Speculation was speculation. Phoenix was right. May as well relax for now.

“If the next room has a jungle gym though,” she commented drily, “I quit.”

[Sekai]

The door slammed shut behind her and despite the stubborn AI's firm decision not to look behind her, she wound up doing it anyways and glanced over her shoulder at the solid wall behind her that blocked any kind of retreat and escape option. No going back now, just the same as basically every damn situation she and Sekai had gotten themselves into, be it by choice or by accident, and without any other choice but to go on and face the challenge head on rather than wait it out. Returning her eyes to the pathway ahead of her, Kira noted the heavy humidity and closed her eyes for a moment, reaching down deep into the shared heart of the body to really listen and see if anything wound up out of the ordinary. Damp earth, the scent of the humid air and the sticky pressure from the humidity all she was able to feel out as she shook her head and opened her eyes before walking carefully down the pathway. Her hands touched the sides of the dirt wall, coming away gritty like she'd been playing in the dirt outside, something jagged and dull ended that was likely- and a moment later confirmed as a tree root, or rather, a series of tree roots as thick as her arms and about the width of her palm poked her in the back.

Dark as pitch here and I hate being underground.

For someone who'd been able to roam around or be beneath the sky at all points of time or at least in a place that had some form of water connected to the surface? Kira was just a little touchy about the fact that, despite the humidity, she couldn't feel the outside sky or the refreshing air it brought with the purification of the water when the two elements met. A faint memory of an old chant brought a ghost of a smile to the woman's face as she continued on her way, practically blind in the dark save for something that might have been fireflies or her world's equivalent of the things anyways flickering on ahead every so often and acting as small guides to what was probably her stereotypical demise. Man she was in a nasty mood, Kira frowned mentally to herself at the realization, she hadn't been in this foul a mood in... well, it'd been quite a while. Not since she'd taken care of Sekai's father and kindly let him know that he was no longer welcome in the politest way she'd been able to manage anyways. Stress somehow managed to turn her into quite the beastly little bitch with fangs, claws, a sharp tongue and razor edged words meant to cut to the quick. Bad habit, bad, bad, bad habit to get into really, she needed to break free of that habit, like, now before she wound up falling back on it to keep people from realizing it.

Her hands hit something metallic, touching and examining with her fingers since her night vision at this point in time was everything but helpful to try and identify it. Puzzled, the woman frowned and knelt down, feeling the entire thing up, ha ha ha no innuendo this time, she wasn't in the mood to make some crack about testing to see if it was strong or high enough for her to play around and act like a pole dancer. Heavy enough that she couldn't lift it more than a few inches off of the ground and the same height all around, Kira let her fingers explore the top half of the structure, cursing when she felt something potentially nasty and jerked one hand away. The tip of her tongue tasted her fingertips cautiously before she spat, a rude gesture for sure that would have Sekai scolding the crap out of her for being so... well, uncouth for sure, as the taste of charcoal and ash hit her tongue. Well... crap. She needed to go looking through what skills she had now to make sure she could light the thing; shooting an arrow at it a la an infamous video game had been fun when she'd watched it be played but seriously; not an option unless she was fond of soaking a ripped off portion of her outfit , wrapping it around the tip and then lighting it. Realism had its place too, Kira's half of the mind lectured as she frowned and continued pawing through her inventory to find what she was looking for.

There it was, one toasty form of light in the form of a Vak scroll later and-

Merrows put her necklace up in the night sky to form the moonlight and calm our night terrors. Or as the humans like to say; And the God says let there be light!

In the center of the room rested the person she was supposed to find, or rather, what remained of the Fae she'd come to look for. Shock hit her as she approached to see why the hell the fae woman was just lying there, face paling by instinctive reaction alone and the amber eyes widening in horror before she managed to shake herself out of it and hauled ass over there to the girl's side. Carefully examining the thorn, her heart sank as she realized the predicament she'd been faced with; the hands and near up to the elbows had been sunk into the thorn, same with her feet to the shins into the possessed wooden death trap. The Fae herself was impaled; the cruel and wicked point of the thorn greedily absorbing the blood spilled by the prisoner from its position sticking out of the girl's abdomen. Hurt so bad she couldn't even cry, Kira noticed as the captured sister of the one out of the room begged her wordlessly, eyes hoping against hope that she'd be set free from her torment and be allowed to leave and finally be at a pain free place. She mouthed a word repeatedly, trying to get her to understand despite the parched, dry and soundless things that refused to come from her throat and it took Kira a hell of a time to finally figure out what she was saying. It hadn't been a word; it was the Fae's name.

Sala was begging for her death and for Kira to deliver it to her.

-flopping around damn near like she was possessed and fought against the attempts to grab the shard of reddish-orange crystal on the silver chain on her neck. Impatience and rage mixed with thoughts of revenge sent her over the top as she grabbed the bow, loaded and shot straight down into the woman's throat to just get her to shut up about the children she'd damned for some chance at an escape. The guggling and the gasping, wheezing and choking seizures wracking the body in front of her as the life slowly left her eyes and her heart finally exploded from the effort of trying to get oxygen to her-

Shuddering and shaking her head violently from side to side, trying to clear out the overlapping image of the damned woman she'd slaughtered for her crimes, paying out the punishment she'd personally thought the woman far too easily had gotten. Life was a precious thing, especially in her world where one had to struggle to survive and only the strongest and the cunning could survive without being devoured or destroyed forever and to see someone like that bitch so easily take her own children's, her own blood, lives with her own hands? Well, dammit to Wryneck's abyss; she'd been right in deciding how the woman would end because of the circumstances she'd been faced with.

....right?

Her hands trembled as she walked over to stand behind Sala's dirty, tangled mass of black hair, looking down into the pain filled eyes of the Juk, or likely based Juk woman before shaking her head. How the hell could she kill this one when she'd done nothing wrong? Closing her eyes, she gently rested her hands on the Fae's neck, leaning her head in and murmuring a quiet, shaky apology for all she'd suffered and, as one who served under Merrows, that her spirit go to Krake's side without further interferences or pain before she snapped the fragile neck and spine with the strength of her bigger and likely stronger by far hands. A second fire scroll was placed where the thorn was impaling her, activated as Kira stood slightly away from the flames devouring the thorn down. When Sala's body began to slip off the thorn, she was right there and caught the deceased girl, hitting the ground on her knees and gritting her teeth against the lick of the flames against her bare flesh and the scent of burning hair and flesh before she used the cloak she'd used for a sash to pat the flames out.

“La Repth. La Repth. La Repth.”

Three spells later and she'd done the best she'd been able to in fixing the charred appearance back to at least the pale skinned one with the tattered dress. Resting the body gently in her lap and closing the Fae's eyes, Kira began untangling the mess of dirty black tresses in an almost formal and unusually sisterly or motherly like manner with her fingers. It took a hell of a lot longer than expected for her trial... but, the burial rites of the dead were things that Kira just couldn't ignore; not when so many had fallen in her past and hadn't had the time to be mourned properly or given the warrior's respect. An arrow appeared in her hand, metal arrowhead gleaming in the faint fire light at her as she placed the tip of her index finger on the sharpened point and pressed down until she saw blood bead up and drip lazily, sluggishly down the head of the arrow itself. Vanishing once she'd dropped it, Kira placed Krake's symbol, the Juk insignia, on Sala's exposed stomach from where her dress had torn and applied pressure on the punctured appendage until she could remove it without the damn thing bleeding again.

Carefully picking up and cradling the body of the deceased and hopefully at peace Fae in her red, blistered and burned arms, Kira rose up from her knees and headed out stiffly towards the door she'd come from. Losing another similar to yourself hurt more than seeing another player get their ass kicked or some careless dumbass to the administration's debugging team; especially when it was one of the innocent ones who were in the wrong place at the wrong time like she suspected Sala herself and her sisters were. Blood mixed with dirt streaked her face as she headed out and found the door, as she'd suspected, wide open and ready for her to emerge from, her armor was dirty and singed, not to mention the first and second degree burns on her arms and hands she'd sustained from having to put out the fire on the body. It'd eaten away at the parts that had melded into wood, leaving leg and armless stumps she'd done her best to wrap with the fabric she'd torn from her hakama and give the Fae at least a decent, cleaned up appearance.

Even the dead deserved some dignity of a well groomed appearance; especially if the sisters of the Fae had to view their sister's body as it was now.

Any who looked over at the Archer walking back from her door would see the body carefully cradled and held like it was something fragile and precious, long strides made and the clenched, set jaw revealing the emotion she was clearly doing her damndest to hold back. Her eyes were overly bright, pupils still missing to remind those who knew of the 'condition' between herself and Sekai that it wasn't the shy one, no, it was Kira who was still 'out' at that moment, as she knelt down beside the other Fae that had been gathered there in their reunion, bowed her head in silent apology and gently set the carefully groomed body of Sala down before backing away. Sending a surprisingly hateful and murderous look at the door the bastard with the tail had gone through after taunting them all, she made her opinion of the situation and of what she wanted clear in a voice that suggested she was fighting back tears despite the positively venomous tone she spoke with.

“I want that son of a bitch dead and in front of me now.”

Kira stood there, a little away from everyone else and continued to glare right at the door, falling completely silent with her jaw still clenched and fists tightly, stiffly held at her sides. There was no mistaking it; the death of the Fae had greatly upset the Archer and she wanted the bastard who'd done it's blood on her hands and his cooling body at her feet.

'Kira... it's... it's going to be alright. We will make him regret what he's done. Please... don't cry?'

One burned hand wiped furiously at her eyes at the soft voice coming from within her mind, hissing slightly as the salt in her tears stung the wounds and tried to make the tears stop with her anger and her rage; something that had always worked before.

I don't cry.

Wisely, the girl within her own mind did the best she could by dropping the subject and, inside the small area the two of them generally looked through each others' eyes depending on who was out, did her best to hug the slightly transparent form that was Kira's consciousness when she was 'out' from behind in a show of support and comfort. It was all she could do at this point; she herself wasn't strong enough to be of any help at the moment but... the least she could do was provide support and comfort for the emotional AI at that moment.

Sekai just hoped things would start to look up sometime very soon in the future... she didn't know how much more heartache either one of them could stand at this point. And she really didn't want to know.

[Zhao Xun]

After entering the room, something about it was familiar... but I couldn't quite place it. It reminded me of something recent, something just out of reach thanks to my all TOO recent mental troubles. I had entered into a short hallway with soft, sandy ground. The walls seemed to be made of the same material, though more tightly packed. It had a name I just couldn't place... too much of my mind was jumbled and shuffled. Well, at least the most important things had survived. Dien, Rayo, and the others... I still knew them, and I was at least thankful for that, no matter how damaged my mind had become.

I moved through the hallway, and it didn't take long before I had reached an actual room, though still a small one. It was then that I saw the source of the strange odor: in the middle of the room was a trapped fae, caged in by bars that crackled with electricity. The smell of arcing bolts... something about it....

"I know who you are, Yoku; I know each of you. Though I suppose it's only fair; my name is Suraisu."

I barely knew who I was, and already I had to fight. Was I a fusion of two minds? The creation of one of them? A mind birthed by my own pure will? I had no idea. but it didn't matter.

"You're far from typical, Dien... you all are."

“Zhao is the mind you met first, and the warrior mind is Rikama. Rikama is not to be trusted, while Zhao can be trusted implicitly.”

“Congratulations on making it this far. We're almost done, the only thing left should be our boss.

.

Memories flashed at the back of my mind, giving me a glimpse of what I had sacrificed to remain sane, to remain conscious of who I was. Scattered words from people I didn't know, but I had known once... and my name? My name... and another? Dien's name was there, as was someone named Yoku, whom I couldn't place. But the other name felt as though it had more of a connection to me... Rikama?

Who was that?

Was he the other self... the destructive one I had tried so hard to suppress? Everything was swimming again, the way it had been when I first woke up. I had lost things since then... things I had remembered. I knew that when I had first woke up, I could have placed the voice... the one talking about me and this Rikama. And the other voice, I should have known that one too. But... I couldn't. I couldn't conjure an image in my head of what was going on. My mind had lost its grip on things that I had been solid on until... well, until now, as far as I could tell. What was going on?

Was I losing myself again?

I shook my head clear, knowing I couldn't afford any distractions at the moment. I looked back at the trapped fae, knowing I had to help her. She flew towards me, but was instantly repelled by the electricity of her prison. I felt terrible for her, and also felt memories beginning to bubble at the back of my mind again. Something about lightning, and being struck by it... and memories of betrayal....

I once again brought my mind back to the present and began to head towards the cage. The fae looked towards me, tears in her eyes. “Please sir, please help me,” she said. “My name is Liza... I can't take much more of this. Please, find some way to set me free!” I simply nodded, then reached for the cage and was instantly repulsed by a strong shock. Well, the shock is strong enough to stop me as well as her. Another approach, then. Some sort of darkness magic may have been able to cancel the effect, but I had nothing in my repertoire of that nature. I looked the cage up and down, searching for another solution, and noticed something odd. Near the base of the cage there was a device that appeared to be charging the bars. I examined it for a moment, then tried the only angle I could come up with: I drew both of my blades and began to hack at it. The first strike seemed worthless, but I saw the charge begin to fizzle after my second blow, and with a few more the electricity was gone. I reached towards the cage and pulled it open, freeing Liza from the cruel trap.

“Oh thank you sir, thank you!” she said, and I nodded again, smiling. I took her small hand and led her back down the hallway, out into the center room where the party was waiting.

[Fuzzhead]

The Fist Fighter passed through the doorway into a short hallway. It was a fairly average hallway except for two small details: it had no ceiling – and it was on fire. Precisely how this came to pass was a mystery to Victor, but what he did know was that if he was going to win the loyalty of his new comrades, he would have to gather up the little fine piece of ass at the end of the hallway and bring her back to the other fine piece of ass in the room he had just left. No easy task, considering the scarlet flames that threatened to burn him from existence.

The silver lining was that there was no ceiling that could cave in on his head. Mysteriously, the hallway simply had no roof and instead opened up into a pitch-blackness that was as inexplicable as it was infinitely huge. Like a massive void that existed only to baffle and mystify, it hung over the Fist Fighter’s head like a dream: it was there, but it couldn’t be credited with anything substantial.

At the end of the hall was the girl he was looking for: a fairly normal hot chick (she did have pointy ears) in every way except for her diminutive size – she was perfectly proportioned though… how strange – Victor wondered precisely which group of perverts the designers were trying to attract with this addition to the World. Deciding that pondering these things was not a good idea considering the rising temperature of the room, Victor moved forward to put out the flames surrounding the weakened girl in the middle of the room.

“Rue Rom,” he muttered, summoning a tornado of water-elemental energy – perfect for putting out the fire. In a few breaths, the room was overflowing with hot, hissing steam, instantly bringing tears to the Fist Fighter’s eyes and blinding him completely. Fortunately, it wasn’t too hard to probe around with his hands until he felt a miniscule hand at the edge of his fingertips. Grasping the wrist of the miniature woman, the strong Fist Fighter hoisted the fairy into his strong arms easily enough before spinning around and heading out the door.

She weighed almost nothing, enshrouded as she was by his chest and shoulders. An overwhelming urge to comfort the little creature threatened to emasculate Victor completely, and a few helpless coughs from her did little to help matters. Fortunately, the Fist Fighter had walked into the original chamber where the others waited before he completely broke down.

A few others had already made it out, including Zavier, a man who apparently knew Silk through his previous controller. Victor, however, knew nothing about him, so his fairly nosy message would have to go unanswered. Laying the coughing fairy to the ground beside the growing pile of little women, the Fist Fighter moved to a wall and sat Indian-style against it. It was time to see what he could see.

[Lighteria]

With Silverblade beckoning the group for the moment, Lighteria forces himself to take a break from dusting his hair out to follow the group. While not entirely comfortable with the decision, it was clear that with the disappearing path, there's really no choice BUT to move forward. Deep in his gut though, he couldn't help but sustain a grudging sense of dread as they walk. After all, Marionette, from what he could gleam from the flashmail, was a !@%#ing psychopath... and really cocky. The further they walk into his... ...her? ...it's field the worse they'll probably be. But still, there are too many questions to back down now. ...Not that there was a path back either. With that logic, absolutely none of this could be blamed on the party members. Of course, that didn't stop his surly attitude. He snarls under his breath and blocks out Canti's voice from his head all the way towards the double doors, Kit following by his ankles by habit. As the group heads down, the dungeon doors shut behind them. A little startled, the twin blade turns his head towards the door.

...Great.

Just another thing to tack onto the "Things I hate about this place" list. Little did he know his list was about to double in size. As they walk down the staircase, Nall calls out what could definitely be the least confidence-inspiring thing you could hear from the person whose supposed to be the strongest in the group. Since "Run for it!" is hard to debate or twist an insult from, Lighteria decides it would be a good time to take the advice as a first action. He rushes forward with the group, inching closer to the front of the pack as they rush. Through the sounds of footsteps and panted breaths, his ears pick up what sound like a sword fight. He quickly notices that blades are being shot from the ceiling and deflected nearly instantly. While this begged an explanation, he again decides it's a bad time to debate. It isn't until he skids to a halt on the opposite side of a large stone door that his heart stops racing. As the door slams shut, he can't help but let out a gasp. Silverblade is quick to deduce what the point of the trap was.

Devious bastard...

Feeling more like a death march, the twin blade moves forward with the group, losing both Silverblade and Zan along the way. By the time the group reaches the final room, Lighteria is more than a bit upset. It didn't help that Canti was starting to shout tired movie expressions. So with Kit scratching helplessly at one of the doors and thus unable to immediately scratch him on the leg, Lighteria decides it's a good time to vent his frustrations. Standing near the recently shut door, Lighteria turns his head and snorts in the general direction of the Grunty.

"Dear GOD Bright Eyes, you are SUCH a spaz." He growls out, glaring at Canti. "We're in the middle of a dungeon that was seemingly designed as a trap for people who need a really obvious definition of what a trap is and YOU feel that the best way to make use your time is by jumping around like an angry monkey! Hey, HERE'S an idea! Why don't you put on a jester hat and booties and dance a jig for the puppet master whose obviously watching this and is just tickled PINK by how much fun we are to watch." With that, his blade unsheathes like a lightning bolt and strikes the stone door they had entered from. Sparks fly off the blade and stone for a few feet but barely a scratch forms on the surface. The twin blade growls furiously, barely containing his rage at this point.

Mew mew MEW meow. (That is SO not helping.)

Kit sighs a painfully cute sigh, spending her time taking a trip along the perimeter of the room, checking for ways beyond the room... or at least something that can act as a make-shift scratching post. It doesn't take long for her to realize the sad truth... there is NOTHING that could be scratched in this room, oh and there's no obvious way out.

[Armina]

She gave a light wave & welcoming smile as the one called Silk joined, very pleased to see he already had friends among their number.

'Mina was having a harder time than she expected, keeping mental watch around the group. Keeping watch meant she had to open her mind, nd that let in some of the more pungiant or dark or just simply confusing thoughts of her won party members. She picked up that Zan was a werewolf, able only after his initial anger at finding out she was a telepath from Rayo's flashmail to be able to shift her walls around to be able to better deflect those angry thoughts so they would not be so prominant in her head while still keeping a light mental tab on him. But that was nothing to the distasteful thoughts from the one called Phoenix. At least Zan had reason behind the unpleasant feel of his thoughts. This Phoenix mentality seemed to have some strange idea that players stuck in the World would be better off NOT joining them. What else could they do? It's not safe to others... there's more chance at being found... and little chance at finding a way out alone. Armina's heart ached to leave, even if she lost her new gift forever.

Almost belatedly she checked the flashmail about Lighteria she had missed before as they went down the long boring path. Something about the wrong personality being in the player. She almost laughed in a sharp way and wound up giggling instead. So what else is new? I wouldn't have seen a difference, not knowing Lighteria to begin with... but somehow with everything else I'm just not surprised. Not as much as she would be without the inside scoop her 'gift' bequeathed her. Armina was starting to wonder anew how much of a gift it really was.

The LongArm did not like the place they found. It was nothing she could put her finger on, nothing she could put to words. Just a general sense of unease. It had been too easy. No field she had entered before when with her companions was so simple. Maybe because they've already been here... but the reasoning sounded hallow even in her own thoughts.

Blades from the ceiling that only Nall could save them from. "Nall!" Armina heard her own voice ring out with a pained sound as the door closed him off from them. With them or not, the Time twinblade would always be to Armina one of the two real leaders of their group.

She was more surprised at Silverblade's ability than the trap clearly prepared just for him when it came. Nighthand had not had such a skill that she knew of, but things could have changed. And that's not Nighthand, his body or not. Armina reminded herself.

Zan's challenge & entrapment next did surprise her, as the realization dawned on her that the werewolf likely then was the third strongest of them all. Blue eyes glanced at Rayo, wondering where the lightning WaveMaster ranked on that list before shaking the thought away as not being very important. Perhaps that added to why she did not notice the faeries or the man's thoughts right away, other than the overwhelming pain and grief that flooded through her open mind. It took all the practice she had done to swim through that and make her mind her own once more. Silly 'Mina! Strong thoughts and emotions need a different filter!

She could work on that later. Nall! Silverblade! Zan! Are you okay? Let me know if you need help or want me to fill you in on what I've seen of our progress ... or anything you think I can do. Like a mind-link. Non-intrusive of course. Armina managed to keep her mental 'tone' bright and optimistic, and only a trace of inadequacy & fear tinged the edges of her sending. Once more blue eyes looked to Rayo, half hoping to hear plans for some sort of Flying Monkey Flinging Oranges plan for whatever boss they were more than likely to come across before getting to leave this field as she actually tried to make eye contact. It was hard to concentrate with the cacophy of thoughts -not to mention very odd behavior- teaming withing the group of them left after some went to hopefully bring back the crying fae's sisters. The still learning telepath tried to block out as much as she could without hindering her receptability & usefulness. Rayo... I think I can make a link-up of those trapped behind with our thoughts if they let me. Anyone else you'd trust or would have good input? The LongArm had been gone too long... knew too few of the others. Hijinx she trusted... to be Hijinx. The thought made her smile with good humor while five companions brought fae out of the 5 rooms they had gone into. Curiously she reached to lightly touch the minds of the fae.

[Nighthand]

One by one the players chose their rooms, and one by one they returned. Each would have experienced similar ordeals; save for Sekai, that is. Her trapped sister had been the first; she was the worst off. Her trap was the most invasive.

One by one the sisters were brought together. The unconscious one awoke to find herself reunited with the group. Only once they discovered one, their sister Sala, lay dead, did their jubilation cease. Still, they held no ill will towards Sekai or anyone else. Only the mysterious man in black and red.

"Thank you, thank you all for bringing my sisters back!" Elin proclaimed, before the sisters gathered in a small circle.

Together the sisters chanted. "To each a gift, for goodwill. To each a will, for power."

To Zhao was presented a strange armband, inset with five small topaz crystals. To Silk was given the charred stick of a torch. Sekai was gifted with a pair of earrings, silvery thorns. Zavier was given a headband laid with pearls. Phoenix was presented with A ring with three small diamonds on it. And finally, Elin's key was given to Lighteria. Why, only she could know, but the twin-blade came into possession of a necklace with five crystalline teardrop shapes.

"The use of these gifts will become apparent later, but for now they are keys. Entering the final door will take you to the sanctum of the Evil Man. We cannot follow, we are too weak and he is immune to our powers. Only you can stop him, now."

The fae linked hands and formed a circle around their deceased sister. Each emitted a light that blended with the rest, until it seemed enough to blind them all. Then the light cleared, and the fae were gone.

Deprived of leadership, and with only one way to go, the party advanced. The key items given to each player in turn caused the door to click soundly, the noise of a lock opening. Slowly, the door swung inwards with a groan.

The room inside was straight out of a haunted house. The floor, made of creaky wooden floorboards, was uneven. The wood was rough, full of splinters sure to annoy anyone who fell down. It was also at a slight slant; enough to make everyone want to lean to correct it, but not enough to be more than a distraction.

The walls were rough, cold stone, with water dripping along them, mosses growing here and there, and the occasional missing or jutted out brick. The ceiling, if there was a ceiling, was far too high up to be seen.

What lighting there was came from antique lanterns with flickering candles that seemed far brighter than they should have been, but were still dim compared to the size of the room; half a football field, give or take, to a side. On the opposite side of the room was a door identical to the one they had entered through; their destination, of course. Only, it couldn't be that simple.

The man in black and red, the Evil Man, stood in the center of the room. Hanging high, suspended in the air, were three forms. Now Armina would realize why she was getting no response to her questing telepathy; The trio she had searched for was unconscious.

Zan was in the middle and seemed the least out of it, for he was struggling slightly. The other two, Silverblade and Nall, were out cold.

"Ah, noticed my treats, have you? Wonderful additions to my collection if I do say so. I just need to let them cure a bit." The voice of the guardian came to the ears of them all. Collection? What kind of sick monster was this creature?

Suddenly Zan's struggles intensified, and in an instant, something seemed to break. He fell to the ground, landing on his feet slightly in front of his captor. "So you managed to break free.... I knew my bonds were a little weak for you. Ah well, no matter. One more against me changes little. So, have at you!"

And so began the first battle.

------------------------------ooc:

I'll PM the effects of the various "keys" some of you have obtained.

Marionette Devil
Level: 50
HP: 99,999
SP: 0

Marionette Devil is a cocky guy. He has a lot of HP, so doesn't mind taking damage... because damage is greatly reduced when it hits him. As his coloring implies, he mostly uses Darkness and Fire elements, though he has additional resources in Wood.

So far, in this form, he has nothing in the way of special attacks. He has access to every class's weapon, however, and forms them out of raw elemental energy. He can use any level 2 physical skill of the Darkness, Fire, or Wood element, including whipmaster, archer, and fist fighter abilities. Additionally, he can cast any level 1 or level 2 spell of those three elements.

When he's hit, he'll counterattack whomever hit him. If he's left alone, he'll attack whoever's nearest, or whoever is farthest away. He's very mobile in battle, dancing around crazily, using the odd environment to his advantage. He also likes to, well, pull sort of pranks on people. He's just about as likely to hop behind you and push you on your face as he is to hit you with a skill.

I don't expect you to keep track of his HP or how much damage you deal to him, I'll take care of that. Just know your attacks, unless exceptionally powerful in nature, won't really faze him that much. He doesn't get angry or anything, just a seemingly happy sort of playfulness.



Also, I will be leaving Thursday afternoon for a weekend trip across the state. Movies and Bowling and Friends, oh my! If you have questions, PM them to me, since I probably either will be signed off or will be away. I may check while I'm gone, but I may not; if not, I'll get back to you once I'm back, which will be either Saturday or Sunday afternoon. Probably Sunday.

[Rayo]

No sort of attempts at breaking through the given rules were necessary, a fact which made the wavemaster glad. Everyone made it back alive, the series of rooms were for delaying them, not actually dealing any damage. Following along with what Elin had spoken of last time, her story was unfolding, as compared to just running through a bunch of rooms at the hub they succeeded in disabling. Was Marionette trying to make the battle out to be more like a typical RPG by providing some semblance of a plot? Save faeries, save a princess… it was an old and overused concept.

To Armina’s question, he tried answering back the same as he did back during their previous battles, simply focusing on her mentally as he spoke. Whether or not it was useful for the long arm picking up a signal, it should at least suggest she was welcome to listen in. ‘All of them should be able to provide some useful information… Nall is most likely to have some noteworthy tidbits of information we could use, but I doubt we’d hear about it until he intended us too. I have faith that getting in contact with Zan would definitely be worth it, that guy doesn’t know how to give up from what I’ve seen. I’d normally put trust into Nighthand too, but I don’t know about Silverblade. Use your own discretion of course.’

Shifting his thoughts back to his own, his mind was relatively free of any thoughts Armina would have found useful up until they reached the next room. The display in front of the mage as soon as he entered answered the question on his mind, that’s where they were. The three players who had stayed behind were unconscious and additionally were pinned to the air, at a point high up enough that it was out of his reach. As soon as Zan landed, the mention of bonds and control didn’t sit well with him. Would Silverblade and Nall be used against them? Possibly. Last time the pair was captured they were simply suspended, kept from joining in. A time farther in the past Nall was manipulated to fight against them, making the battle a hell of a lot tougher. Gulping down a Sport’s Drink, the flow of electricity felt natural to his body. The boss was colored most suitably for Halloween, a holiday associated with darkness and trickery. The element of thunder impeded the joker’s path a moment later, with Lanceor Ch appeared between the newly rejoined heavy blade and the one who captured him. The goal was to create a bit of distance to at least let Zan recover, and if possible push the monster farther away from his prisoners. If a mental link was used, a greater distance might mean a weaker connection. Sure, the guy might have wireless but that didn’t go through floors as well as it should, not in his old home anyway. With any luck, the lightning beast should prove damaging.

“Sekai, Phoenix! Can you bring Nall and Nighthand down here? Armina! Once they’re down, do whatever you can. Even if they’re unconscious and in a state of dreaming, there should be some sort of thread you can attach to get your thoughts in there. If Zan could break free, then it’s possible for them as well. Your mind has strength, provide backup for them if you can.”

Hesitant to recover the duo locked midair because of what Marionette’s pet had spoken, healing was only spared for Zan. Who knew what injuries the three might have, but those with potential to turn on them could be healed later, if and when they woke up friendly.

“Ol Repth!”

Marionette Devil had already made a move, regardless of whether or not the wizard had been able to follow it. If he more fully understood what their opponent was capable of, Rayo would understand he wasn’t being taken seriously. A prank normally reserved for Hijinx; a branch was sticking out of the ground, in every direction of where the magician stood. The event easily foreseen happened but a second later as Rayo took to the side to try and ascertain just how effective his last attack had been. Somewhere, deep inside his mind, there was a cry of ‘wtf?’ All of the other bosses serving as guardians had been out to slaughter them coldly. Primal cut them down with ease, the Flare Hydra dunked them in lava, and the snake sent out a flurry of magic every time it’s eye got poked. This boss set up a minor and ineffectual… well no, it had been effective. Yet, the lasting result was meaningless as there was no follow up to take advantage of his lack of defense due to the no balance syndrome the blue mage had experienced. Striking back more for pride, GiGan Zot’s pillars popped up from beneath Marionette Devil, aimed at sending him off balance this time… and for damage too one would suppose. Mostly for knocking him over though.

The guardian’s retort this time was on a serious level, as a swirling mix of fire and even more fire engulfed the mage. BiVak Rom dealt damage, but nothing lethal. More importantly, if the creature was prone to casting fire techniques…

“LaRue Zot!”

While eager to see the results of his latest attack, he was less eager to find out how their antagonist would respond. Hopefully the others would have more luck retrieving and waking up their disabled allies.

ooc: Blue: Ap Raio, BiVak Rom

[Fuzzhead]

A rickety old house. The floor slightly tilting. A fungus-like infestation crawling up the side of rotting wooden supports. A ceiling soaring beyond the eyes of men. Darkness, murkiness, the subtle yet pervasive sense that all was not well. Chills running up spines, just waiting for a giant to come grind bones for his bread.

Giant appearing, dressed for Halloween. Ridiculous oranges and blacks, striping up and down along side a less-than-utilitarian gray overcoat. Fear gripping at throats, eyes training on the enemy. Sweat dripping off noses, inert forms hanging in the air. Staring ahead, clenching and unclenching fists, muscles on fire, legs twitching, weapons hissing from sheaths.

One fighter escaping, will overpowering. Ol Repth healing, and then…

Silence like a coffin. Candles flickering in blackness. The roar of blood pulsing through veins. Battle joining.

“GiGan Zot.”

Spiky pillars of earth erupting from the floor, stabbing harmlessly at a flitting form. Haunting laughter echoing along the winds, mixtures of rage and reactions against rage playing across faces searching for certainty within pandemonium. Flames blackening a mage’s emerald cloak, but failing to whisk away the life force closely associated.

Another spell, another offensive. Halloween man moving faster than the discerning gaze, appearing, disappearing, escaping, countering. “LaRue Zot!” Brushing away with ease, poised to destroy…

“My turn. Kiwami!”

Black flecks dancing across vision. Lightning fast charge with the happy ending. One. Two. Fists like meteors seeking planets to destroy. Success? Perhaps. Eyes cutting in every direction, breath coming heavily. Pressure building, senses screaming alert. Halloween man’s next move…

[Lord Canti]

“Why not you and Canti? Flight might come in handy.”

(Though the last comment was more or less aimed at Rayo, it pertained to the winged Twin Blade as the beginnings of a conceivable plan. It meant taking the summoning man and the dark-and-devilish man to make up some sort of rescue team of sorts. Not a bad idea, really. It would at least give him something to do, especially since there was apparently nothing in this room for him to mess with. Not one switch or crack or funny lever. Nothing! It was positively boring, which is why Canti nodded at the idea of teaming up with Rayo, just in case. Of course, some people didn't appreciate his attitude on things here, especially when it involved his fairly-comedic methods of handling frustration. The Snakes on a Plane reference was shouted out deliberately to blow off steam in a manner that was constructive, to ease his temper. However...)

"Dear GOD Bright Eyes, you are SUCH a spaz. We're in the middle of a dungeon that was seemingly designed as a trap for people who need a really obvious definition of what a trap is and YOU feel that the best way to make use your time is by jumping around like an angry monkey! Hey, HERE'S an idea! Why don't you put on a jester hat and booties and dance a jig for the puppet master whose obviously watching this and is just tickled PINK by how much fun we are to watch."

(For the record, Canti was not amused. He sighed heavily after hearing that aggravating tone of voice used on him. It was like some preppy jerk or airheaded girl that he use to know in school, except that there was no possible way that this could be one of THEM. Lights probably wasn't a Bostonite, like him. Regardless, he had had just about enough of this.)

Canti: Pardon me for a sec, you two.

(Thus turning, Canti stepped over to Lighteria nonchalantly, whom he knew was NOT Light at all, and spoke candidly.)

Canti: Would that be your professional opinion, Linda Blair, or are you channeling someone else now? How about someone useful, like Woody Allen?

(Because even a neurotic director/producer would be more useful at this stage. Lighteria snarls at Canti, brow furrowing in anger, looking him up and down a moment.)

"Watch it comedy-breath. I'm not the one bouncing around like berserking kangaroo. Why not just drop your neck and make it easier for the guys around here to chop it through?"

Canti: Because unlike some people, I have a good head on my shoulders. Like, for instance, MY OWN!

(He could have chewed titanium he was so pissed. Fact is, he just did a good job of keeping it underwraps at times. This other Twin Blade, though. He, she, or whatever was apparently skilled in the art of pressing the wrong buttons, such as the ones marked "DANGER!" or "EXPLOSIVE DISCHARGE!". People like that always got on his nerves. It was as inevitable as the sun rising over the mountains. Lighteria bopped him lightly over the head after his outburst.)

"Your head's about as useful as a bowling ball to us. And if you've got something to say about my predicament, feel free to express your opinion after I've shoved my foot up your ass."

(S/he said this with a rather menacing, sweeping arm gesture. Canti moved the hand away in a 'get the hell off of me' sort of fashion, clearly annoyed by that. The problem here was that this was definitely a female in a male's body, just as Zan had stated. Or rather, Zan hadn't said it was a girl in there, but that it was an imposter. The dark Twin Blade gathered the rest on his own, what with all the PMSing going on. She wanted him to bring it out into the open? Fine by him.)

Canti: Your face and my ass. Alright, bitch, I'll spell it out for ya. The only thing keeping me from kicking you around town is that that isn't even fucking you, but some other poor guy's mess. And since I'm hoping he's a decent fellow, I don't wanna wreck where he lives. But aside from that, fuuuck you!

(You have to hand to a guy who can speak his mind without fear. Of course, rage commands fear, right into a bloody corner with whips and chains, so you have to know how that beast works to keep everything all nice and neat and in check. The other Twin Blade, for instance, was not quite the same. Lighteria snarled and cracked his fists, looking death at him...)

"Don't you DARE call me a bitch you sad sack of moronical flea bait!!. I've got half a mind to smear your face up this floor so you'll at least serve some aethstetic purpose!"

(This...didn't have quite the intended effect on Canti.

Canti: Half a mind...

(He looked down for a moment, smiling funny.)

Canti: ...and the balls.

(He thought about this for a second, a hand on his chin and looking off to the side, then decided...)

Canti: Know what? Lights out!

(This was shouted while suddenly leaping right at 'him', fist practically rocketing towards Lighteria's face. Lighteria took the hit to the cheek, and leaned over for a second, holding his face, shuddering in a bit of pain.)

"...you're boned."

(He growls and spun in the air, going for a spin-kick to Canti's head. FWAP! One unexpected hit later and Canti reeled for a second. Damn, right in the cheekbone... They may not have been using weapons, but this shit still hurt like real life. Then, with a wicked smile, Canti's foot shot up to kick at Lighteria's place between the legs. {i.e. The Naughty Bits.} He was kind of curious...and wanted to know if that still worked... Much to his delight, Lighteria's eyes widened and he shuddered as he was struck between the legs. It was a strange, almost numbing feeling at first, then came the pain. He screamed and wildly started to claw at Canti's eyes and face like a cat!)

Canti: Ah shit!

(There comes a time in a man's life when he has to take into account all the things that are going for him in life, such as it is, and remind himself that he is mortal and falliable and most definitely NOT immune to pain. Therefore, having fought the good fight for whatever reason he may have had, there was always a good and proper time to bugger off and now was one of those times! With Lights screaming and striking at him wildly, Canti panicked and tried to back away, putting his arms up in defense and attempting to fly out of reach! Lighteria snarled, still reeling in pain, not going after him right away. He knelt down and shuddered, trying to suck the pain up. After a second, though, he growled loudly again and lunged at Canti's torso to slam him against the wall. Unfortunately, at this time, the dark Twin Blade hadn't quite gotten the wind under his wings yet, so to speak, so Lights still caught him and...)

Canti: OOF!!

(Caught by the hips and feeling a definite pain in his diaphragm, Canti growled back and thrust his arms down to try and catch the other Twin Blade where the shoulders meets the neck. Lighteria was simply too infuriated to block or dodge anything at this point. The blow to the back of the neck was just another reddening of pain in his eyes. He buckled slightly lower and growled, slamming his elbow into his gut.)

Canti: Urrggghhh...motherfucking...

(He didn't finish the sentence. Wings spread, Canti simply leapt with a knee going for Lighteria's face as he tried once more to take flight. Lighteria growled out, the knee just missing him. With Canti trying to take off he grabbed for his ankles. The winged Twin Blade felt a certain weight on one of his ankles, namely the clingy other Twin Blade, still trying to get at him.)

Canti: Hey, uh-uh! No riders! Room for one only!

(While talking, he was using the other leg to kick down, as he couldn't really go any higher right now. Lighteria still growling - likes to growl alot - looked up at him, one hand blocking his kicks.)

"I swear I'm going to rip those off your back when I'm done with you!!!"

(Now, amidst all of this, you'd think someone would have tried to break them up by now, but the fact of the matter is...it kind of happened very quickly and unexpectedly, so you'd find a human being a little slow to react. Yup. In fact, you'd need the reflexes of a CAT to try and keep a lid on this. That being said...)

Kit: That's enough!! Both of you!! We're not accomplishing ANYthing like this!!

(...it was a cat that decided to intervene. Canti stopped kicking so he could redouble his effort into using his wings, with stronger-pronouned strokes.)

Canti: Tell that to the clingy bastard that stole this guy's body!

(Lighteria clawed at his ankle in a fury before letting them go.)

"You don't have the slightest CLUE what you're talking about, bird brain!!"

Kit: I said ENOUGH!!

(It was kind of embarassing, being scolded by a cat. Canti reached an altitude that was out of reach and hovered there, looking down. He seemed calmer, but still annoyed.)

Canti: Sorry, cat. I got a little carried away. Let's just say that I know the score and I don't like it, and leave it at that.

(Lighteria fumed, deeply irritated. He pointed up to Canti, dropping his act.)

"You think I LIKE this?? Being stuck in this body?! I never wanted this and I NEVER wanted to have to hang around you!"

(He growled again and slammed his fist into the ground, fuming and brooding. Kit seemed satisfied he wasn't not going to kill anyone now. Canti suspected that he couldn't if he tried. In fact, he was fucking indignant about all this, crossing his arms while in flight.)

Canti: Yeah, like dealing with a whiny pain in the ass with no sense of humor is a walk in the park, right? I hope the real Lights is better than this.

(Lighteria's head whipped up, eyes fiery, almost hurt.)

"SHUT UP, you whiney little BITCH!!"

(He flung one of his blades as hard as he could at Canti's chest, his other arm charging a Vak Rom. This time, however, Canti was prepared...sort of. Instincts told him to whip out his hands and catch the knife. Yup. Just one problem. Good instincts, bad hand-eye coordination. He ended up with part of his gloved hand cut and winced at the pain.)

Canti: At least I know that Mythbusters was wrong...

(He was referring to the supposedly-busted myth about catching and stopping blades with your hands as they were thrust or thrown at you. But in any case, Lighteria was not listening anymore, and the Vak Rom left his hands to blast forth straight at Canti.)

Kit: NO!! STOP IT!!

(FWOOSH!! Fssssss... The flame-tornado swirled around Canti and...did minimal damage. His smoldering body seemed...pretty okay, actually. Lucky for him, she didn't know his powers too well, as it was part of his hellfire nature to be resistant to fire and darkness, thus weaker against lightning and water. Pity, that. But still...)

Canti: Okay, that crosses a line. Beating the shit out of each other is one thing, but casting a spell on me now, like this? That's going too far. Leave it, Lights, or whoever the hell you are. This shit isn't my fault and I'm in the same fucking boat. So just give it a fucking rest.

(Lighteria snarled, his fist shaking in rage, looking up at Canti. A second passes before his snarl turns into a smirk. He then turns around to sit by the wall, nursing his wounds.)

"Whatever. I'll kill you later."

Canti: Don't bother. Anymore of this and I might have to hang myself for want of relief.

"I'll supply the rope!"

Kit: *While groaning* You're both impossible...

(Canti ignored this as he let himself return to the floor, throwing away Lighteria's knife in some...random direction. It was kind of useless alone and he wasn't too keen on trying for a pair. The dark Twin Blade now had the luxary of feeling properly hurt, as adrenaline was his friend, making him try to ignore pain whenever possible. It was only after battle that he felt like collapsing into a pool of broken body parts. Let's see... His back and chest hurt, as well as his diaphragm. Plus, he'd been kicked in the face, cut on his hand, and burned. Well, at least one thing worked for him. Smoldering had cauterized the wound on his hand. It did little for the rest of him, though, and he was so glad that Lights hadn't thought of knocking HIM in the pills. It was about this time that the people who went into those rooms were awarded prizes by the NPCs of this place. They weren't pawns in a trap? Oh, thank goodness... Now, the meatsack that his body was - aptly named because he felt like he'd been attacked by Rocky Balboa, somewhat - gonna be able to get a break instead of having to rescue people. The prizes awarded to the team were the keys to the locked door, allowing them to press on. This was another little game in Marionette's maze. Well, he wondered what exactly the ole' puppetmaster thought about that tussle, eh? Getting a look inside...)

Canti: Oh yeah. This is a place that needs to burn.

(You couldn't find a more trashy and inhospitable locale. It was designed to be rustic, run-down, and on the brink of ruination. Alliteration aside, it was also pretty damn corner, like the carnival setup that's trying too hard. It was also like one of the old Adam West Batman villain hideouts, which were always crooked on the inside. Typical theatrics. Color the burning one unimpressed. His footsteps left scorch-marks on the wooden floor, as he was still somewhat pissed off. The one saving grace was that there was alot of room here, flyer-friendly if you will. The lighting came on and Canti saw a door. The Door is The Way, right? Well, not without a challenger. 'Course it's a bleedin' trap! Where's the cliche' without the pay-off? The joke without the punchline? John Contantine without someone getting killed? There was an "Evil Man" afoot! He...umm... Canti faltered. Just thinking that made him feel like The Tick... There was, however, nothing too silly about this guy really, as he had abducted their friends! Silverblade, Zan, and Nall were all hanging from...from...nothing at all, and unconscious! Well, not Zan... The werewolf managed to break his way out and stand against the creature before them now, though said bastard didn't appear all that intimidated.)

Canti: Right then... Repth, and...wait a minute...

(As the healing light made his soar body feel better, Canti smelled something. It was a particular scent that he was well-acquainted with now. It was the stench of decay, and of burnt hair. Something dead and on fire, and it wasn't coming from his own body. Okay...then where? Him? The Devil-creature? It looked about right. Canti put away the Dante's Blades and slipped on his Fuse Blades. This guy was strong, but made he had the right idea, what with his senses giving him a nice big whiff up front. Served him right for bein' downwind. In any case, Canti leapt up high as others made their move. Rayo suggested Sekai and Phoenix getting Nall and 'Nighthand' down. Fair enough. He was more suited as a bird of prey than an albatross. Circling for a moment, the Twin Blade waited for the Marionette-Devil's back and then swooped down, not a word or a sound escaping him until he was in fighting range of the guy and lashed out at him with...)

Canti: Thunder Dance!!

[Sekai]

“Sekai, Phoenix! Can you bring Nall and Nighthand down here?”

Eyes locked on the sorry ass excuse for a living being in front of her, Kira acted like she didn't even hear the question asked of her, well, technically asked of her little one for the most part. Heat filtered into her face, burning her ears and her cheeks as she watched him dancing around, chattering like it was no big Vulcan be damned problem that he'd slaughtered something innocent to entertain himself. Black and red, hint of green on his bastard form, clothing generally spoke of what Wave people aligned themselves with; even if they chose the colors at random or by instinct alone. Sorting through her inventory and keeping herself in the background, her current weapon swapped out and replaced itself with a blue tinted silvery metal bow that twisted and spiked out at the ends. Grimly testing the weight of it and nodding when she'd pulled the wire back to test the strength of the bow itself. Now, what on earth was the elemental alignment and was it something she believed she could use? Five seconds of examining later and there was a not so gentle smile on her face. One that showed a rather lot of teeth that probably would have had certain people she'd known backing right off had they seen it.

Oh yes, she liked this bow. Liked it a lot actually.

Revenge, thy name is Silver Wind Bow.

Silverblade would have to wait and she'd be damned if she'd take Nall himself down without winding 'accidentally' breaking his damn hacker neck first.

Some lame ass fight broke out between Canti and some other player she had no clue about and didn't give two shits in a can over, proving to be nothing more than a moderate pain in her ass when it came to trying to concentrate on hitting her target. Eyes narrowing as she sighted, aimed and waited until a strike from Canti was used before she followed up with her own attack. She'd be taking care of the squabblers here in a minute; douchebag was first priority at the moment. Arm steady, Kira focused on the arrow itself, metallic shaft gleaming dimly at first before she felt the steady pull from her magic reserves. Only when the arrow itself started to slightly blind her did she release it, sending the crackling shaft soaring through the air to hit the thing, damn she'd missed the intended target for the front of his pants, in his skinny ass; all because he'd twirled around to probably bash Crow-boy in the face for his attack. Yes; Kira had wanted a crotch shot because she was in one hell of a foul mood and felt like getting in some below the belt, literally, shots at this asshole.

“Shocking Arrow of Voltage!”

“Let's how happy dancing you're going to be with an arrow in your ass.”

Kira muttered with no little amount of venom in her voice before feinting left to head towards the hanging figure of Silverblade himself, taking the time to yell at Canti and Lightera, well, whatever the damn idiot's name was anyways that'd been fighting with the black winged one before she launched herself to take Silverblade out of the air.

“Tweedle Dip and Tweedle Shit; quit fighting each other when this asshole's still standing. Kill each other and yourselves for all I care; just do it after this guy's dead and we're the hell out of this field!”

Vulcan be damned and Wryneck with him; she needed to get to a field that didn't have a collection of idiots who would rather kill each other than a dancing giggling jackass jack-o-lantern rip off in front of them. Priorities get fucked up when humans are in comas, the AI groused as she flew up, small trickles of ash falling off her wings, and watched with no small amount of confusion as she reached through Silverblade's shoulder and felt herself pass right through his body.

And damn near hit the wall while she was at it too.

Shock throwing her out of her mood for a moment, she turned herself around and paused to hover in the air right next to the body of the AI she'd spoken to with a frown on her face. Her hand reached out again, moving down to land on where his shoulder should have been and watched as it went through once again. A thoughtful expression appeared on the AI's face, pupil-less eyes landing on Nall's unconscious form with more than a bit of a sadistic grin on her face as she maneuvered herself over to the spot he was at. Staring for a moment before shrugging, she tested her theory on the damn hacker as well by throwing a punch at the back of his head.

No dice. Awesome; she'd sucker punched him- and a kick in the kidneys for being an asshole who withheld information from what she'd gathered from the group, and none of them landed. Personally, she'd probably be watching as they woke up after they'd found the two of them later on after the battle and would have to explain why one of them had a sore shoulder and chest and the other had one hell of a headache and his kidneys hurt. Oh well, she'd relish it as long as she could and scowled at the fact that they were just, well, as far as she could tell with limited capabilities at the moment, illusions of wherever the two were really being held.

“Yo; Mage or anyone else who gives two shits about these two up here and ain't the douchebag in black and red. They aren't here; it's a, what the hell do you call it again...”

Nice of Kira to draw attention to herself; stupid AI was stupid.

Little one; what in the name of all hells is that term you called that one thing at the museum?

'...um, you mean a hologram?'

“That's right, that's what that is.”

A fist smacked into the palm of her hand decisively, as if whatever she'd done by pausing a moment to think had suddenly brought the thing she'd been looking for into reach.

“They're holograms; ain't no way to free a hologram as far as I can tell. Anyone up for a round of Q&A with this guy?”

[Phoenix512]

As Phoenix saw the others returning from the remaining four rooms, a brawl was brewing between Canti and Lighteria. It seemed to the blademaster that they have been spewing insults back and forth to each other since everyone was at the hideout. Even though Phoenix had attacked his fellow comrades in the past, he did not attack them because of hate but for a means to a goal. He decided not to get involved in the matter unless it was spilling out to the others. The fight soon ended with Lighteria’s cat breaking it up.

Lighteria’s cat is probably one and the same but Lighteria himself is another story. He/she or whatever gender is the current possessor of Lighteria’s body finally admits the truth which Zan already figured out. I wonder about Zavier though. I wonder about his current state since he’s like Asgard. Everytime I see them again, they have changed their abilities. So Zavier, what abilities do you have this time?

Silk was the last one to return from the five rooms which brought the five fae sisters together again. As the five sisters disappeared in a blinding light, they left gifts for some of the members. Phoenix was given a ring with three diamonds on it. He proceeded to put the ring on his right ring finger. After the gift giving, the group proceeded down to the newly opened doorway. As the group entered the room, it was a typical boss room in a haunted house. The blademaster was glad that they were not fighting in a forest or jungle this time.

The group had managed to find their missing comrades but they were hanging above as the Marionette Devil was commenting on them for his collection. Phoenix was guessing that he was turning them into statues of some kind but he was going to lose one of them right now as Zan managed to break free from his grips. The devil’s movements seriously reminded the blademaster of Hijinx in so many ways including its subtle dark intent.

Rayo asked Phoenix to rescue Nall and Silverblade but he wondered how could get them since he could not fly but Sekai could. She immediately tried to get the two leaders down to the ground but could not because they were not there in the first place. That’s interesting. Why Nall and Silverblade aren’t in the room while Zan is? That’s odd. If the Marionette Devil could isolate Nall and Silverblade, why have Zan here where he could help us? No matter, I think about this later.

The blademaster focused his attention back to the Marionette Devil which he glanced at the ring and remembered what the fae said to the group before they left. Maybe this ring can do something against this guy but I don’t know what the effect will be if I can activate this ring. After Canti finished his attack on the Marionette Devil, Phoenix went towards the boss and activated the ring as he got very close to him.

One of the diamonds became black as a dome of light no more than five feet in diameter hit the Marionette Devil and anyone else within the blast range. Phoenix hoped that the ring’s power managed to weaken the Devil greatly as the dome of light disappeared as quickly as it was summoned.

[Zan]

There was something in his transportation from Marionette's stronghold into his suspended position above the group that slipped him from consciousness, that stole away his mind for what was probably little more than a few seconds. Time, however, didn't seem to matter. No, it was then he had realized how much his mind had been fighting away Lowen, how much he had been willing to forget about her to ignore the pain seeing her, feeling her brought him. Perhaps that should have brought guilt, or something vaguely similar, but with that subconscious barrier gone in his current state...he only felt a sense of relief fall from his hands. Any wondering as to why was quickly answered by the sight of the girl before him, her form curled and shaking naked on a dirty hospital bed. The hospital, Zan knew, was underground somewhere by the slick, water-stained look of the cement walls that accompanied some of the subterranean structures in New York. The last he had seen her was during a projection when she was in surgery, when they tampering with her insides to see if her genetics were any different than the rest of mankind; just another rest on the list that was only growing.

Zan found the wolf's Rage begin to boil his blood at that helplessness, wondering just what was inducing her tremors. Was the fact that they felt no need to give the girl he loved even the barest hint of clothing making her cold? Maybe that was part of it, but the clammy, pallor hue of her skin hinted at further possibilities. Infection? Had they not given her the proper protective antibiotics after the operation? That too, he decided, could not be the problem. They wouldn't risk a 'specimen' like her dying from such a thing. It was the contorted, agonized look on her face and the tight curl of her arms against the nigh-disfiguring stitches grotesquely sewn about her gut that gave him his answer; they had given her antibiotics...but that was it. No painkillers, no anything else. To this the Rage burned further, scorching the rivers of crimson beneath his skin until he thought he'd be consumed by it. How dare they treat another human being like this. How dare they treat Lowen like this. The lycanthrope could feel that anger rolling off of him in waves of power, exuding off of his projected consciousness like a sea of black hatred and blood thirst. Teeth gritted tightly against each other as he fought the urge to slam his fist into the wall (something he knew would be fruitless in his current state of...matter?), to scream out.

But she felt it just the same.

"Who...nng..." A question paused by a shudder of pain. "...Conner? Conner, is that you?"

Momentary distraction had his eyes scanning about the remnants of her cell, a solid, windowless room comprised of concrete, the bed, a bowl of progressively dirty water and a bucket. A motherfucking bucket. It took all he had, all he was not to lose himself to the Beast then, to let that powerful Rage be all he was. Zan was convinced the only thing that prevented it was her voice, however hurt it rang. The Heavy Blade opened his mouth to respond, but felt something pull at him, felt his presence before her. He was smart enough to figure out he was waking, that he was coming to in The World, but...he didn't want to go. As much as he hated to see Lowen like that, as happy as he was that his nose didn't work, he didn't want to go. Something in her face at the realization of his company made him smile, if only a ghost of such. If only he could remain for a little while longer, a few minutes more. Zan would be able to help her think past the unnecessary torment of her butchered insides. He'd be able to give her something. Whatever mechanism, whatever string connected him to her didn't seem to care about any of that. A breath and he was gone from her, forced back into a place where he had lost patience in the continuous fight against the Elites.

-------------------------------------------------

The ground rushed up at him as his eyes opened, a sight that wasn't exactly a welcomed thing. Only his preternatural reflexes kept him from face-planting on the haunted-mansion-esque floor, feet landing gracefully and soundlessly down, fingertips rested against the wood. Something in him was tempted to be surprised or anxious at the sight of what was undoubtedly the Hub's guardian (a creature that looked oddly like Marionette himself), but all he felt was that white-hot fury that had carried over in his transition. Zan's rise to his feet was a slow one, hood back and brown locks of his hair half-obscuring the orbs of his eyes, revealed only through the half-tip of his head. Lids were narrowed, containing the orange-amber of the wolf in not just the side of his face that held the marring scars, but both. The anger that had welled up was beginning to change him and only the control he had so desperately wrestled from his first trip into the Shadow kept him in the driver's seat. Those same eyes were turned to Phoenix's curious eyes, the expression on the Blademaster's face insinuating a suspicion that Zan was too geared for violence to care about. He'd give his 'comrade' the same look he'd turn to give the Guardian a second later; seething and yet...neutral, a cool, killer's calm etched in the lines of his face.

Ooh, I like you like this. We need to get people to abuse Lowen more oft-

If you ever want back out, Nulus, you won't finish that sentence. As always, the threat was plenty to shut the Shade the fuck up.
The desire to shut people up only mounted with the childish bickering between Canti and 'Lighteria', the spectacle two seconds from being stopped by Zan's fists - or so the case had been before Kira's verbal intervention. Seems the AI was good for something besides snotty remarks after all. Whether from her words or from their own little determination to focus once more, the feud ceased. That predator's gaze, eyes full of the Beast, turned back to the Marionette Devil yet again. An idle hand thumbed the coin in his pocket, pondering using whatever energies it contained this against the Guardian. No, he'd wait. If the thing ended up healing people or some shit, he'd feel like a real jackass wiping the slate of any damage his companions might have inflicted thus far. He'd wait until he was pushed into a corner and use was absolutely necessary. Hell, if he never had to use it, more power to him. Due to the First's willingness to behave, Zan could think of no more reason to keep it contained within the cuffs and, with a thought, brought Nulus into being. The blazing green eyes, glowing in the image of a wolf's own irises, slammed shut on the cuffs and appeared behind the darkness of a pulled hood in the form of the tall, flowing and tattered cloak that was the Oldest Beast.

"That's better, asshole." Words said with a growl of annoyance aimed at the Heavy Blade. Whatever.

Continuing to waste as little time as was possible, Zan synchronized his mind with Nulus, their thoughts and strategic planning shifting from words to lightning-fast and mentally interpreted images and emotions. It was dangerous to bring himself so twined with the mind of someone as sociopathic as his...friend...so often, but there was little choice to do otherwise. This way they didn't have the mental time to argue, only think and respond. The question was: what the hell did they do? If the Devil was going to be anything like Primal, it would have some God damn special ability or attribute that Zan didn't want to be the one to trigger. Another popular tactic in all of the first Hub's guardian's forms (say that five times fast) was counterattack and, of course, they were always brutal. Did Zan want to put himself against something like that? Fuck it. The group needed to find out what the bastard was made of anyway, correct? Calling the High Forger into existence, a trio of spaced data rings spinning out near his hand before the sword found itself in his grasp, he wasted no time. A blink and Nulus nodded at the plan, calling his Dek Do against the boss at the same time the lycanthrope cast a duo of Ap Do's on either of them. Noting also that color schemes tended to give away a monster's strengths and weaknesses, Zan tossed out a Dek Ruem and a Dek Vorv as well (the latter to give him, a physically-focused fighter, an edge as well as any others who might seek to physically assault the bastard).

All of that done, it wasn't long before Nulus (with stats Zan had found to be closer to a Twin Blade of thirty levels than any of the other classes) burst forward with the Ap Do under his proverbial belt, zipping head-on into the boss as Zan sprinted around to place himself at the thing's back. With the First charging in, eight-inch, metal-hard nails capped on every finger and being brought down upon the Guardian, Zan completed the pincer attack with a blast of his signature MeRue Rom from the Shiva's Rings and a coupled, heavy fall of his weapon as the spell road itself out. If both of his weakening spells had taken effect and his attacks landed (not to mention the Dek Do, if it too had worked), they held a potential for a serious wake up call.
It was time to see just how metaphorically asleep the Devil really was.

[Senna]

Everyone was reconverging. The bigmouth Twin Blade was getting into a knock-down drag-out with Canti, a fact which should have been more irritating on her nerves than it was. In fact, under other circumstances, she would have expected people to try to pull the pair apart (maybe that was still the facts of real-life acting on her mind, that she thought someone with darkness powers and someone with a talking cat and lord knew what else to his name could be pulled apart like a pair of squabbling high-schoolers in a proverbial pissing contest).

But there was something about the way one of the returning team members was walking – something maybe about the set of her face or her posture, or maybe the sound of her voice after she laid the all-too-still form of one of the fairies with her sisters – the commanded a lot more attention.

It wasn’t that the death of the fairy was particularly affecting to the Long Arm. It was just an AI. Artificial. And she didn’t know it, hadn’t met it, had no connection to warrant an emotional response. But the Archer apparently had. And there was a certain respect and solemnity due to the steel that was evident in that woman’s demeanor as she returned from her self-imposed journey.

Given that, Senna stood by silent to watch the brief ceremony (if you wanted to call it that) the fairies had to thank those brave enough to wander into those closed off rooms. She felt determined to help, not for the sake of the mission, but for something else. She couldn’t quite figure out what to call it, where its source lay. She supposed it was just foolish sentimentality.

The way was opened and the group proceeded. Nothing that faced them in this new room was a welcome sight, from the broken, slanting form of the room to the three forms hovering in the air near their newest opponent. Zan, as one might expect, managed to get himself free. Surprisingly, the others were not able to. Very odd, though maybe whatever stunned them just didn’t affect the werewolf-y guy as much because of his nature. Whatever. It was time for another fight, in the grand tradition of RPG dungeon crawling games. Funny that even when the function of The World changed for them, the form did not.

Several people went in for attacks. Senna, all too aware of the uselessness of so many of her attacks in so many battles, decided not to join the initial flurry of activity. She was hanging back, watching. Was there a pattern, a method to…

The Archer’s voice caught her attention instead. Holograms? That explained one thing thought it brought another… another question…

She missed whatever it was that bothered her, feeling it flit at the edges of her consciousness like a teasing moth. Back to the battle. Back to here. Back to SOMETHING. The others were all acting out against their tormentor. Phoenix did… something… what WAS that? … and Zan was doing what he did best. Amusing in a way how the quarrels fell away when there was a fight to be had. Amusing? No, not really. Maybe in the hysterical sense.

Senna physically shook her head. Why was she doing this again? Her mind was just meandering, unable to focus, to concentrate on the battle at hand. Or unwilling…

No. Another shake. There didn’t seem to be a link yet in its movement that might show how to fix it. How to bring the damn thing down. And if they did, if Sekai was right, then they might just be stuck here looking for the other two. Assuming, of course, they weren’t on the other side of the door. In the far side of the room.

She began moving, letting her steps take her in the direction of the room’s slant. Something, something. How could they pin it down? How could they get answers? They could ask Marionette, but she didn’t trust it to answer and answer truthfully. Much as they were dancing for it, she was getting more and more of a feeling – contrary to her initial thought – that it was the real enemy. Of course, one might forgive her for that, considering who she had to thank for the fact that when a particularly long splinter from the floor jabbed into her heel, it HURT.

Part of her wondered if Phoenix’s display was from whatever he’d been given, and if the others would follow suit. By your powers combined…

Dammit, concentrate. Do something.

Something. Something. Very well. May as well go with the usual – Dek Ruem, followed if allowed by a GiRue Kruz. Either or both might – probably would – miss, but at last casting drove other thoughts from her mind, however briefly.