EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (GODSBLOOD)

[aionmods]

Sovereign Citizens

GODSBLOOD

At the height of the Sovereign's moon, Vaeka Lovenskol's execution is announced. Outside of the City Hall, a dignitary of Achamoth is flanked by an entourage of Kenoma, reading the words of Regent from an unfurled letter: Vaeka stands accused to conspiring against the Regent and abetting the fugitive menace known as the Pleroma. Though the details are not made public, rumors spread quickly, some far more wild than the actual truth. The full truth, after all, is something only the Regent's agents and the Pleroma themselves know, and even to them the manner of her exposure is unclear.

Though losing a proud daughter of an influential family, there seems to be little that the people of Godsblood can do besides accept it. After all, they are still a city of the Regent's empire, and for all the freedom they've enjoyed, there are limits. If she was truly aiding the Pleroma, the sworn enemies of the Regent - and in an organized manner, if the rumors are to be believed - can they truly object? Or would challenging the Regent's claim simply invite more death?

As with many things, the families of Godsblood are torn. Tensions are thick for the five days leading up to Vaeka's appointed execution by hanging, with everyone having an opinion and few wanting to go on record talking about it too loudly. As such, the people's frustrations come out in other ways. Bloodites are uncharacteristically unfriendly to strangers in this time, keeping to their own and treating everyone else with overt skepticism.

Those that have arrived as part of the Regent's official envoy, or seen guarding Vaeka, will receive a particularly icy reception. No longer are the Kenoma curious wanderers on personal business. Now, they are here as the hands of the Regent; few of the Godsblood citizens are foolish enough to challenge them outright, but they are ever an honest people.

Early on, the Kenoma and the rest of the Achamite contingent sent with them will be able to take over a jail in downtown Godsblood to hold Vaeka until her execution, clearing out all other Bloodite prisoners and employees in the meantime. This means they have a relatively secure position to guard their prisoner from, which is a good thing; after all, the Regent did outright invite the Pleroma to stop them, and Pleroma are nothing if not stubborn.

EXECUTION DAY

After five agonizing days of waiting and several high visible conflicts between the Pleroma and Kenoma, finally the hour of Vaeka's execution arrives. A gallows is set outside of City Hall, ready to welcome its newest victim, and a massive crowd has gathered in an spirit of anxious anticipation. Some worry that violence may break out in the streets, even without the Pleroma's agitation, but gradually the minutes tick by and the gallows remain empty.

First one minutes passes. Then five. Then fifteen. Slowly, it becomes clear to the people of Godsblood that Vaeka will not be arriving. Are the rumors true? Has she been saved? Have the Pleroma been successful, despite all odds?

As the hours pass and the crowds disperse, Vaeka Lovenskol is not officially reported as either living or dead. Fortunately, Godsblood is a place where information has a way of getting around, whether those in charge like it or not. Some are saying that she was seen being whisked away as if by powerful magic, following a bloody fight at the jail in which she was being held. Where did she go? Maybe her supposed connections to the forest people did her good, some surmise.

The days following Vaeka's failed execution carry a strange and uncertain energy. Where before there was tension and distrust, Godsblood now finds itself in a surreal reality where the Regent's word is apparently not absolute. Then again, do they really want a repeat performance?

QUESTIONS

What is the best way for Aions to travel to Godsblood?
For Pleroma, this is very easy, as they are likely to either already live there or be able to easy take Greentruth's portal. For Kenoma, they may come directly from Achamoth by boat as part of the Regent's envoy or arrive via Eustace's portal which is set up in a shed a fairly long jaunt outside of town. Once there has been some time to get established, Misa will be setting up another portal leading straight to the prison where Vaeka is being stored.

Are the Kenoma permitted by the Regent to kill other Godsblood citizens?
Though the Kenoma are authorized to kill any Bloodites that try to physically fight them, they are expected to keep things clean. The Regent prefers to only punish the guilty, and having the lines be clear will create less of a hassle in the future. Generally, Godsblood is not in a state where physical resistance is likely to happen unprovoked.

Comments

[goldendeceiver]

[ While Ernesto has always been pretty good about keeping his tones and expressions friendly or neutral as needed, one of the biggest stumbling blocks he's found in this world has been the way long distance communication works. You can fake a chipper tone over the phone, and admittedly you can fake one over the shards as well.

But that welling feeling of disgust at the mention of supporting the Regent? Well, that's a little harder to help.

Sorry, Misa. He'll at least politely not comment about that loud and clear emotional feedback she just got, and he'll do a good job of whisking away that feeling as he breezily moves on in the conversation. ]

I'll be honest, I don't really want to get into any fights with you either.

[ At least there's nothing suggesting he's lying. ]

But there is someone that might still get hurt in all of this even if none of us duke it out.

[ Which is all to say, her words sound disingenuous to him. ]

[lifespanned]

[ In a way, she's glad the shot doesn't come immediately— it gives her some time to calm her nerves. And, more importantly, to dress her existing wound, with the supplies she's collected (only belatedly does she realize that she should've done this first, before making herself a target a second time.) She does the best (messy) job she can while managing her shard in her hand, though Caitlyn may sense that she is distracted before she responds again. ]

Of course I do. The world is corrupt... but I want it to be just and kind. In the world I come from, people get away with all kinds of terrible things. I've seen it for myself... someone has to do something about it. It can be remade into something kinder.

[ Even at the cost of the lives of others, even if it takes great sacrifice. She could bear that burden, and bear the weight of blood on her hands. Yes, destroying the universe was a stepping stone to get there. But her eyes remain firmly fixed on the ends, not the means. With a wince, she tightens the last knot around her leg, hands becoming sticky with drying blood. Her tone comes off stubborn when it goes through their connection once more, her head turning just to the right to peer out the window with her peripheral. ]

So maybe it's fine to you, but I don't want to go back to the way things were.

[lachtara]

[ The words may not get the reaction she expected. He doesn't scoff or look away, but he meets her gaze with a lazy half-smile. The comment about being a 'softie' is completely forgiven for the accompanying positivity in their success. God, how he could use the positivity sometimes.

But he says nothing and listens to her description. Ah, young 'love'. How it can brighten every facet of the world and be so simultaneously foolish.

He returns to his food while continuing the conversation. ]

Oh? How did the two of you meet?

A

[vapour]

[ This Kenoma stands on a roof of a building adjacent to the jail on such a fine morning in Godsblood, crouched down and watching the other curiously. Unfortunately for Johnny, Childe is able to identify him as a Pleroma and a Firebrand, at that. Assuming Johnny happens to glance up to spot him at some point, it'll be a blank staring contest for several moments between them before Childe blinks first. As if admitting to his loss in the impromptu game (that obviously Johnny knew they were playing just now, yeah?), the Kenoma sighs in defeat before giving a cheeky little wave.

Good morning. The silent greeting is clearly there, but as to how sincere (and safe) it's meant to be is anyone's guess.

For the moment, at least, the Kenoma doesn't seem keen on opening his mouth or approaching the Pleroma in any form. Although Johnny isn't (yet) able to detect Childe as a Kenoma, he may be able to feel a bit of something in relation to them sharing the same legacy, even if he's unaware of what it is. ]

[aquaveiled]

[ Himeka laughs, setting her shoes aside with the full intent of getting to dip her toes (and probably tail) in the water. Trust is likely the last thing they're actually building with the locals, but they will have a reputation, won't they? ]

Let's just say I was inspired? I'm usually abysmal at--

[ Then she feels it. A shift--a familiar shift in the air around them that cuts her off mid-sentence. Her smile starts to die as she turns, vision cut off by the ice that suddenly encompasses them. It doesn't look like the same wall of ice that Kaeya had cast to protect Makoto, but Himeka has no time to contemplate the nuances of umbral spell-casting.

The first sword flies much too closer to her foot and right though the wood of the dock. ]

--Watch out!!

[ Himeka immediately raises her arms, summoning up a bubble of light that expands up above the dome to try and ward off the swords, or at least slow their progress. It's the kick that comes as a surprise. Her eyes widen as the shield dwindles with the force of the blow and all she can do is drop the spell and try to dodge at the same time ]

[lifespanned]

[ If there's one thing she's grown accustomed to in Horos, it's the reliability of Abel's optimism, hand in hand with his bumbling, endearing clumsiness. She doesn't find a trace of that man when she's made to meet his eyes, and the world seems to come to a stop when she realizes, perhaps for the second time, the depth of his concern for her - a girl he'd never met before Horos, on the enemy side, who had always kept ulterior motives in the back of her mind whenever they talked. It isn't often that Misa feels unentitled to things— she's greedy, and quick to take things and feelings from others without asking. For once, she feels undeserving, feeling as though she's done nothing to earn this level of care. She should reject it, distance herself from it, cut off anything that would be a liability to her cause. But she just can't. She clings onto it, foolishly and desperately, like a man keeping hold to a sinking ship - distantly aware that doing so will only harm her more in the end, yet being physically unable to let go.

All she ever wanted since the tragedy was to feel cared for again. Isn't this feeling what she's been looking for all along? Why does it feel so bittersweet, then...? Why does she feel such a sense of dread in her heart? ]

Abel... I'll be okay. I'm not scared.

[ One of her hands moves to wrap around his wrist as a comfort, giving him an encouraging, friendly squeeze— all while keeping his hand pressed to her cheek. Misa says this with all the meandering, light tone her speech is typically laden with, though quieted to suit the tenseness of the moment. Her natural reaction is to try to cheer him up, to tell him things aren't so serious, that she doesn't care what happens to her in the end. Because she just... doesn't. Not the way Abel seems to care. There's a flippancy, and inevitability to her delivery, as though she's already submitted herself to what she may need to endure on this path with the Regent. The reason for which becomes crystal clear moments after; her voice lowers even further, solemn, yet still strangely detached. ]

It's like I said... I thought I'd die that night. I'm probably supposed to be dead. [ It's a fine enough cover for her certainty of the fact— knowing her time was already over had permanently made it easier to give up, a development that has only made her desensitized to what the Kenoma demands of her. ] Even if it costs me everything... I'm not scared if it's for something I believe in. I'll be happy if I even helped a little...

[ If she has to bear terrible burdens, or lose her life in the process, then it'll have been worth it if she could move the world just a step closer to a better place, in the name of her savior. ]

[inutilis]

Himeka--?!

[ the cry is a startled one ripped from his throat in surprise; the frigidity of the air is barely recognized before he is moving on instinct. circled and encased by a barrier of ice, there is very little room to maneuver - and yet he is direly aware the need to do just that.

Abel finds unintentional refuge from the pelting of Black Keys beneath Himeka's protective bubble - but it is shattered by the force of Ciel's kick. --Ciel. blue eyes are wide, incredulous, as they take in the face of their assailant--

no preamble. no warning. not so much as a polite 'hello,' this time - and to gun right for Himeka...

--he is jerking his companion back by the waist, bodily lifting her immense small figure and out of the inevitable follow-through of a certain blue-haired woman. ]

Ciel! ...Emet-Selch? Please wait! There's no reason for us to--

[ he does not... cannot... understand. Vaeka's fate has already been decided. they should have returned to Achamoth days ago-- and yet...

...

his words die in his throat, because he knows all too well that, like Amos... some of those he calls his 'friends' would sooner see both him and Himeka bled dry of their blood in the name of the Kenoma's cause.

...god damnit. ]

[lachtara]

[ It's none too surprising that casting would have given itself away. A practiced mage would be able to sense the shift in the world around them. The small ripples in aether and prickles that run through the atmosphere before the elements bend to their will.

Their cries of surprise are paid little mind outside of a furrow of his brow. He moves into the next spell without a word in reply - a quick thrust forward of his hand in silent offer of shield magic for Ciel - which would encircle her in a bubble of protection. It would be needed if she were to be the one confronting them up close.

And then he concentrates on his staff once again for the spell meant to follow. Something about his spellcasting being quick, deliberate, and precise, indicates a level of desperation that wasn't there before. Not as a result of wanting to use this chance to stay in the Regent's good graces, but the culmination of someone burdened with the knowledge that this is his last chance.

The spell would take a moment to cast. Hopefully, Ciel would pay enough mind to move so that she may not get caught in it. ]

[recursive]

( seventeen years old, and this isn't the first time yuuta has faced down another person with the very tangible reality being that he would have to kill them — or at the very least try to.

the first time he had crossed that threshold had been over a year ago. one of the most powerful curse users alive, getou suguru, had specifically targeted him to get to rika's curse, so he could use her prodigious strength for himself, and the ones that had suffered for it had been the people closest to him. walking out onto the school grounds and seeing panda's broken form, maki twisted and bloody, and toge scarcely able to croak out a plea to run... an anger had possessed him, hot enough to boil his blood and call rika forth with the intent to kill the man that had hurt them, just so he could get to him.

he hadn't been the one to kill getou, but he had defeated him, and since then he has occasionally been called upon to bring down curse users — sorcerers that went rogue from the jujutsu society and used their abilities to harm people and for their own selfish gain. he had never liked those assignments, but he had taken them without complaint, because curse users are very dangerous... and he is only one of four sorcerers powerful enough to be considered "special grade."

yuuta doesn't know amos, but as he run towards him, he can't help but wonder about him, even as he tries his damnedest to keep his mind empty and clear. perhaps it's a line of empathy drawn between them as individuals of the same Legacy. perhaps it's because he's still working through his feelings about fighting against those in the same situation as him but twisted towards a different, darker purpose. why is it that he's here? what is his personal prerogative in this? would he have agreed to do so under different circumstances? does he even really want to hurt yuuta either? he's only a few feet away from amos when a vulnerability hidden deep within the mechanics of the young man snaps. he doesn't want to kill him. hell, he doesn't even really want to hurt him — he will if he has to, but he just wants to keep him busy. so in a gesture so quick it could be easily missed, he does something fantastically foolish: he flips the falchion over in his grasp. there were no katanas for sale on the streets of godsblood (obviously), but he had picked this weapon because it felt as close as he might get. a single-bladed weapon, one that would make the most sense with the way he'd learned to wield a sword. held this way in his hand, he would bring its blunt edge against amos, not the one keen enough to cut through flesh and bone.

probably for the best, because amos will realize very quickly that this is not your average, everyday, garden-variety teenager.

he will receive the physical evidence of this when the force of the sword, even if it is the blunt edge driving into the side of his armor, it strikes with the force of a jackhammer. put on a blunt edge, that force spreads out over the surface area of the armor, lessening the immediate damage, but it feels like the one swinging that sword is ten times stronger than the puny-looking scrap of a young man that amos faces now.

yuuta's typical method of fighting is deceptively simple. blessed with a prodigious amount of cursed energy, unsurpassed by any other sorcerer, so he uses that energy to reinforce his body, making him stronger, faster, and more durable than a normal human's capabilities. with so much of this resource at his disposal, he typically tries to overwhelm his opponents with incredible force, able to tank hits others might try to avoid because he could just use reverse cursed energy to heal through the damage. with this instinct in mind, still not shorn from his mental tactics, he doesn't even try to move out of the way of amos' blow. the man's fist connects solidly, and though it does rattle his brain and thoroughly bruise his jaw, shattering his vision into fragments and stars and bringing the copper taste of blood to his tongue, amos would also notice that this kid is a hell of a lot more durable-feeling than the average person. not quite like punching a cinderblock, but on the way there.

what he's forgotten in this moment is that... reverse cursed energy doesn't seem to be as potent here as it was back home. he starts using it on reflex, exhaling a huffed sigh of dull blue energy that begins to repair damage to bruised flesh and bone, but it's slow. too slow. he needs to be more careful. that, and if he's too brazen with his cursed energy (because manifesting rika a distance away also drew upon that same resource just as much as he did to reinforce himself and his weapon), he'll run out, and then he will just be one (1) garden-variety teenager against a man with what felt like supernaturally-enhanced strength.

ironically, they both arrive at the same conclusion: try to end this fast. temporarily on the back foot after the blow to his head, yuuta recovers with a fierce determination in his dark blue eyes and resumes his assault; he trades brute strength for speed, lashing out with the unsharpened edge of the sword in a flurry of swipes that don't have the power of the last one, but that he hopes might be enough to confuse amos' guard so he could get in a more decisive blow afterward. )

[goldendeceiver]

[ This is the kind of thing that Ernesto excels in, all the prep work and planning that goes into making a big plan come together, but he's never learned to enjoy the tension that builds as he starts to slot things into place. Some people thrive under this kind of pressure, but while Ernesto has never wilted under it, the anticipation has never been his favorite.

Especially because he also seems to have a knack for only getting involved in plans that have a high risk of death or serious injury.

He glances out of the corner of his eye at her, humming thoughtfully, before turning his head fully to look at the small sliver of the prison that he can see. ]

I can't say for sure how many, but I can at least tell you a little bit about the ones who decided subtlety wasn't for them.

[ He turns his head back to facing in front of him staring at the air as he considers. ]

You've seen the bird man flying around overhead before, right? Besides him there's a big bruiser named Amos, and a couple of small girls that probably won't be too much of a risk to you at this range. You're better off bailing if they spot you and start coming towards you though.

[expiera]

[Ciel hasn't spent all those weeks in Emet-Selch's vicinity back in Achamoth just to make sure he remembers to eat (and eat properly at that). From observing his lessons imparted to the less magically inclined of the Kenomas, to the work they did together in organizing the training exercises, to talks and discussions they may have had on magic in general, she's gained a passable understanding of his favored engagement style. That means also learning to adapt to it, thus his (unnecessary, but appreciated) offer of protection is taken as naturally as breathing.

No, this has nothing to do with staying in the Regent's good graces. They failed at carrying out Vaeka's execution, that is indelible fact. Ciel is more than ready and willing to accept any potential punishment that may derive from this botched operation, there was no excusing their inability to carry out the Regent's will. Locating Abel and Himeka during a sweep of the city with Emet-Selch is simply a stunning stroke of incredible luck that dropped a unique and priceless opportunity in her lap, and she will not have it go to waste. This is not about the battle they've already lost, Vaeka slipped through their grasp and that's that. This is about the war that's been ongoing since time immemorial, one that still rages on in this very moment through their clashing attunements as agents of the Kenoma versus agents of the Pleroma.

The initial barrage of Black Keys deflected, they are dispelled the following moment, dematerializing into what appears to be pieces of paper that harmlessly flutter to the ground. The Pleromas may have narrowly dodged her kick too, but the enemy is directly in front of them now, has joined them willingly in their prison of ice. Six more of those sword-like weapons appear in Ciel's hands, three in each clutched between her knuckles like claws. She thrusts an arm forth within the next instant towards Abel's chest with every intention of running him through with all three blades, that he's holding onto Himeka too now works out just as well: she can skewer them both, two for one.

Already forced on the defensive, that should be enough to keep their targets busy while Emet-Selch completes his casting. Ciel'll be mindful, but it's fine, truly; friendly fire is more than acceptable for the sake of meeting their objective, what happens to her in the process is a nonfactor. She understands her position and responsibility though, so she won't permit herself become incapacitated until their work is done.]

[gravings]

[ Capture him too, if you can. Kill him if you can't.

Those words send a chill through her, putting a fine point on the seriousness of their directive. She isn't a soldier, just a girl from the countryside with a peculiar set of talents. But this is the world she's in now, and they're all part of a war they can't avoid. If she must fight, then she'll fight — even if her motivation for doing so lies not with the Regent on their throne, but with the people close at hand.

She answers Amos's look with a small nod before turning back to Abel. He hasn't yet made a move to pursue Amos, so she doesn't yet make a move toward him. Despite Amos's instructions, she's in no rush to fight. The longer Abel wants to talk, the farther Amos will get — and if by some chance Abel is able to incapacitate her, at least Amos will have that much of a headstart. ]

... I'm sorry, Father. I can't let you hurt Mr. Amos for the same reason you want to save your friend.

[ Her tone is softer now with Amos retreating, though her posture is the same. She doesn't intend to move until Abel takes a step forward. ]

If you take that man back, won't he kill more Achamites?

[ The fallen soldier is still cooling nearby, his blood still filling the cracks in the street. ]

[aquaveiled]

[ Himeka could try and test that barrier, but she won't. Not when she and Abel are forced into a very literal spikey and cold corner. Moving away from him would mean that Ciel would have multiple targets to have to choose between, but with the fact she clearly has abilities with an area of effect and Himeka isn't sure how well Abel can withstand those alone, she won't.

But maybe she should have anyway.

She calls up another bubble--a very literal one that seems to take a shimmering surface around them. This one doesn't try to stop the attacks, though--instead it merely lessens the blow as she takes the full brunt of it. She gasps immediately, the blades piercing through her corporeal aether. It isn't fatal, but it hurts like a bitch.

Gritting her teeth, the fingers of her right hand suddenly close in a sharp fist. An explosion of blue light sparkles outwards as she expends one of her lilies to heal herself, causing the blades to push back in the other direction out of her torso. ]

[gravings]

I don't think any of us want to fight... or, um, most of us don't.

[ Luo Binghe does still exist. Also Zenos. Also Estinien. Also Hayame. ]

You can't say that none of you are planning on doing something, though. People were very... passionate at the Regent's address.

1/2

[inutilis]

[ it happens so quickly.

Ciel's blades are puncturing the air with a dizzying speed and Abel realizes he won't be fast enough; to call upon that will take too much time to conjure anything useful to guard. his only recourse will be to try and block as many of the blades from fully piercing through to her body; he can regenerate the damage once he begins to--

--ah...

...she's already moving, a blur of red hair as she stands to take the whole of the blow, the sickening sound of blades finding purchase in flesh enough to curdle one's stomach if the heady scent of blood didn't do the trick. Abel has no context for the abilities she is utilizing; he doesn't even know if she's sustained fatal damage, but it might be hard to believe all her vital organs would be spared, and...

--no. no.

no. ]

[inutilis]

[ there's a sudden, violent, and oppressive pressure that scatters outward from his person like a wave; it is electrically charged, enough to make the hair at one's nape stand on end and paralyze nerve endings, make the knees weak, make the air seize in the lungs. a pair of black, feathery wings -- deceptively pliant, looking soft to the touch -- burst outward from the priest's back in one jagged motion, one unfurling protectively around Himeka as she might find herself cradled protectively in the creature's arms.

...and the other wing, perhaps, aims to swoop outward and veritably sluice whatever part of Ciel might be too close for comfort if she doesn't manage to retreat out of range. the feathers hold a consistency hard and sharp as any weapon found on Horos and are fully capable of lopping off a wayward limb if one isn't cautious.

red, burning eyes pulse with a hungry fervor -- a righteous disbelief, incredulity as they remain fixed on his adversaries, snarl of warning at his lips as his fangs clench in possessive rage. this isn't happening... again. he is not being made to watch as someone he cares for, someone he so badly wanted to protect, suffers and... dies, again.

no more. no one else has to die... no one else.

he will buy her precious time to try and heal herself before moving her. --all he can do is pray it isn't already too late. ]

[aionpcs]

She doesn't like being called weak, but what can she do? Being strong is going to make her any less dead than she is already geared up to be. At least Childe's seething remarks are a distraction from the blistering wound on her arm for a short while.

He makes several points. Godsblood hasn't been anything but a source for tithes for decades, leaving Vaeka's people feeling independent and almost untouched. Her eyes flicker around his mask, trying to find some bit of read on the man but finds nothing and forces her own gaze away.

"Just because the Regent hasn't closed their fist on Godsblood until now doesn't mean we didn't always know it was coming."

She pulls her injured arm to her chest.

"We've seen what they do to other cities. What they don't like? They destroy and erase. Everyone is just a stepping stone to their next big conquest. Or are you so deep in it that you never noticed? Or...no, you probably just don't care."

[gravings]

[ Given that she asked a yes or no question, she shouldn't be surprised that he answered in one of those two choices, a resounding no. She manages to be surprised anyway at the thought of someone simultaneously devoid of a drive to life into the future, yet driven enough to make that future come crashing down sooner rather than later. Once upon a time, she had the former but lacked the latter; she never had enough courage to plunge into an uncertain afterlife, one that posed a risk of turning her into one of the specters she so feared. ]

I think I'd be sad to see everyone come to an end. Even if the world that comes next will be better... there are a lot of people here I think are good as is.

[ Though she understands the void that must still occupy his heart after the loss of his loved ones. There's no replacing the people who were important to her either. ]

[lachtara]

[ All the while he concentrates, a swath of darkness carves a casting glyph into the earth beneath Emet-Selch's feet. 

From Ciel's attack, the resulting injury, and his flicker of (begrudging) worry for Himeka's shard, it seems they've uncovered something unexpected besides. A winged creature whose presence is accompanied by such force that his hood whips back and reveals his face. Emet-Selch has to smirk in reply - A clear dark smirk filled with contempt. Oh, has the dear pacifist finally decided to bear his teeth? ]

Then you shall leave with us as shards. 

[ Hopefully, It's enough of an indication that Ciel should give room. He arcs his staff through the air. A massive orb of fire erupts into being at the center of their conflict with the intent of consuming them all. Its swirling flames snake outward and sear the air with its brutal heat before bursting with such force it would shake the earth.
 
Emet-Selch twirls the staff between his fingers and makes to conjure a few more in quick succession. He promised her everything in his path would burn. And so he seeks to bring that promise to bear as he summons forth blazing death. One after the other after the other.

Everything that could not protect itself would be set aflame. The wooden docks catch fire, ice cracks and begins to break apart, and even the nearby waters being to bubble from the heat. ]

[expiera]

[Himeka's ability is... curious. Ciel can feel the force of her blow becoming lessened, and how her hand is pushing through something that is flesh—yet also not quite. She's being repelled, but it's still within her power to push forward again. The sorceress she hoped to take out first is fine; she can read the flow of mana at this distance, feel and see that the red-headed woman is beginning to heal herself.

It's as far as she was permitted to observe, before the shell-shocked man at Himeka's side morphs.

Emet-Selch's protection turns out to be more than well warranted. It successfully shields her from the sudden and savage change of pressure in the atmosphere, helps her in maintaining a stance that is quickly shifting from offensive to defensive without loosing her footing. This development may be drastic, but it is not shocking. Feeling the oppressive charge in the air so close up and the scathing rage roiling off him like waves, Ciel is uniquely well-placed to witness the transformation of a sorry excuse of a man into a veritable monster capable of snuffing out countless lives.

She knew it.

This is the creature he's tried so hard to hide. This is the proof of his sins he will never be forgiven for. This is the evil that developed a conscience after destroying more than it could ever take back or restore. This entity of unquenchable fury and desperation is who that "priest" truly is at his core, and harming his close ally is the trigger in breaking its cage.

Ciel backs away in time. The Black Keys are dismissed, Himeka is no longer somewhere she can easily reach. For the first time since awakening on Horos, she feels an impulse: to charge in and fight, muster every single last drop of her magical energy until this Enemy of Humanity is utterly destroyed. More ironic still that it appears vampiric; it would seem that she can resume her old line of work here after all.

It is the sound of Emet-Selch's voice that has her forcibly ground herself: she is not on her own, this nonsensical impulse is reckless and dangerous. Thus she kicks off the ground to reach the top of the (melting) ice walls once more, then jumps back a distance that is the bare minimum of 'safe'. She must keep track of their targets in case they try to flee, account for the possibility that Emet-Selch's spell doesn't end up as devastating towards them as it's being towards everything else around them. Activating her own magic circuits in this window afforded to her, she begins processing mana as well. They have to be prepared to respond to anything, now more than ever before.]

[baltimores]

[ Did he ask about what the people of Godsblood might think? As far as Amos is concerned, their opinions are irrelevant. He's been getting looks from them ever since he first turned up in the city something like a month ago; that certainly hasn't changed. They strike him as the type of people who are always going to give him shit but not in any meaningful way — they don't have the power to do that — so in the end, they really don't matter.

The only response he has for Syrlya is to try to bring up his arm to block the shield when it comes for him. He's only partially successful, and the force of impact is jarring, reverberating down through to the bone and fuck, yeah, that hurt. He's keenly aware that there's only so much damage left he can take. ]

Wonder what the people of Achamoth would have to say about you.

[ The Regent did order them to capture Pleroma, after all, and here's one right in front of him. Amos puts all his strength into that same arm in an attempt to sweep the shield away, disarm Syrlya. Not that he wants to start shit on the streets, but... technically, he's the one who started it, so that gives Amos somewhat free rein as far as he's concerned. With his other hand he reaches to grab at Syrlya, keep him in place while he aims to headbutt him, if he gets the chance. ]

[baltimores]

You did attack them.

[ Like... come on, dude. He knows he's hit Rand in the head hard a couple of times now, but surely that much still had to be obvious to him.

Amos is able to sit up a little straighter, using the wall for support, a little less helpless now. Bit by bit, he's gonna get back there. ]

The Regent's fair. It's not like they go after people for no reason. You attack them, they defend themselves. You rebel against them, they remind you not to. You disobey them, they tell you where you went wrong, and then you get to try again. [ That last one was firsthand experience; he knows what he's talking about. ] None of it's a bad thing. You only get smacked down if you really fuck up.

[ Which is kinda what the Pleroma are doing. Really fucking this up for everyone else. Not like anything had been going wrong before then.

He shifts a little, brings his right hand to rest in his lap. Better there than on the floor if he isn't about to pull himself back up any time soon. ]

I mean, this is my fault. I wasn't able to bring you back with me the first time. So we're fixing that now. I'm hoping the Regent will help you when we get back to Achamoth, get the Kenoma in you. Then you can get a second chance to do the right thing.

[ That's all anyone should want, right? ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Arm wedged under the buckle, he doesn't lose his grip that easy--but the force does pull on his arm and drag the rest of it weight with it. He can feel Amos grabbing him, but... it's only an ordinary hand.

So before Amos' head can land, in a flash magic Syrlya disappears from his grip, teleporting back about ten feet to put distance between them.

He rolls his shoulder, trying to ease the pain.] What, as a Pleroma Aion or a Sylvari?

[It probably involves screaming either way. In the time he has, he draws his blade to ensure he's armed for Amos' next attack.]

[expiera]

[He's right to be afraid. It's a shame he's all basic instinct and no organized thought, this young man is no better than a caged animal. His impulsivity is testament to his lack of experience, suppose he'll have to learn the hard way lest he continues facing defeat for so long as he persists in his foolhardy approach. A fellow Pleroma will need to teach him about patience and control; here with the Kenoma, he will only be paid in pain and blood for his troubles.

Rand's flailing retaliation does not find a mark this time. Grabbing onto both his wrists with both her hands, she forcibly pins his arms to his sides against the wall before more fire leaves his fingertips, then drives her knee hard into his stomach with enough strength to almost feel like both him and the wall have been caved through. She may not be tall enough to drag his arms above his head, but she can keep him still for the split second it takes to quite literally knock the air out of his lungs. He needs his arms mobile to use his magic, this was already evident knowing Misa's power and how he's already been held here for several hours. Petrification was a kindness, however.; now that he's forced her hand, she has no qualms engaging him in melee until his limbs can no longer answer him.]

[baltimores]

[ Oh, what the fuck, if Syrlya can teleport like that then this is going to get real annoying real fast. He stumbles slightly as Syrlya completely nullifies his attack, going ahead a step further than planned before righting himself, fixing him a glare. ]

A what? [ Between the teleportation and the part where he's just learned a new word — Sylvari — Amos is a combination of irked and baffled. ] As a Pleroma. [ He projects the word as he says it in case anyone nearby is able to catch any of this; that this guy is a Pleroma Aion, not to be trusted, and that means Amos really does have every right here to try to take him in. ] That's the only part that matters.

[ Because sure, he's never seen anyone who looks like Syrlya before, but that's nothing to hold against him. That's not his fault; not like being Pleroma is.

He drops his head a little, sighs as the sword is drawn. He is so tired of swords. Not like that's going to stop him, though, as he lifts his head back up and charges at Syrlya, armoured part of his right arm braced up to absorb any potential attack, left fist cocked back to try to knock him out. It's clear he's going to need to get a lucky shot to get Syrlya, so here's hoping this'll be the one. ]