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

NPC THREADS

[aionmods]

Vaeka & Emet-Selch

[aionpcs]

Vaeka knew the risks that came with working alongside the Resistance. Things have been quiet for decades after the last war ended even before her time, it is always impressed upon new recruits that they were putting their lives on the line. It was an oath she took seriously or so she thought. The truth was that the Resistance has been able to act both unseen and unchecked for years.

She never thought that she would be the one to end up behind bars, that it was going to be her loyalty to be tested.

The jail is a building she has walked past numerous times as she grew up in the city but never once did she look at it with the thought that she would see the inside. To be left with her captors as her only company; agents of The Regent, loyalists, with no clue how they found her out of everyone in Godsblood. Fear gives into despair as Vaeka repeats her oath quietly to herself.

She never thought this day would come. But it has.

One of the Kenoma continues to hound her. She thinks it's strange at first as she half-expected them to look more like the shadowy figures depicted in stories, but this Emet-Selch looks like any other person. It's terrifying to think of how she may have passed by Kenoma without realizing it.

Vaeka grits her teeth, refusing to look at the man.

"I've said I don't know."

[lachtara]

It had been two days of the same. Speaking with her, asking questions, getting nowhere. Were it under his control he would spend more time on this. Anyone could gradually have their resolve whittled down bit by bit - such is the advantage of the perspective of someone long-lived. Time would always win out in the end.

Unfortunately, they are quickly running out of time.

Emet-Selch sighs faintly from across the table. His expression is one of resignation and wistfulness. There is only one recourse from here and it is not something he enjoys doing. Even if she were nothing more than a husk.

He reaches into the breast pocket of his coat and very deliberately sets a small bottle on its surface with a noticeable 'clink'. It is an intricately designed glass bottle sealed with a cork and topped with a hand-made silver charm. Inside the bottle writhes a distinguished black liquid. She is a resistance member. It should be apparent what it is.

When he speaks, his words are filled with the same melancholy that is clear on his face. "So many worlds I have seen are filled with those who suffer. Sickness, frailty, short-sightedness, ignorance, all the while those who live there tout how glorious it is."

He stands from his seat and begins to round the table toward her. "Those who would seek to improve the world for all are called 'villains' for their ideals. 'The world is beautiful' they say as their ilk dies around them. 'What right do you have to take life' they cry as they pour their efforts into war after war after meaningless war."

He stops by where she sits and leers down at her. "If you seek to play at being a 'hero' for your misguided cause," Again he withdraws something from his imposing coat. This time, it is a dagger with a black blade and intricate silver designs on its hilt. Emet-Selch wastes no time in thrusting the knife downwards towards the woman's palm, intent on pinning her hand to the table with it. "then let me be your villain."

His words are direct and authoritative. "You are a resistance member. You are privy to locations of import, other members, and secrets that may be hidden to those not of your own. The sooner I hear of them the sooner this suffering shall end."

[aionpcs]

Vaeka watches his movements with curious trepidation out of the corner of her eye to try and keep face. Dealing with a Kenoma directly is no small matter even if she feels she needs to make her stance. When he places the bottle of black liquid on the table her heart sinks into the pit of her stomach. Yes. Yes she does know that that is.

She swallows as she once again averts her gaze, making a point to turn her head even as he moves towards her. Vaeka catches his shoes in her peripheral but she can feel Emet-Selch's eyes bore down on her. She does an impressive job of maintaining her composure despite the fact that her heart is racing inside her chest as he speaks, declaring himself more than just her interrogator. But when he goes for her hand, she yelps.

He has her attention then, her eyes flashing with thinly veiled uncertainty as she finally looks at him eye to eye. It feels like the vein of her wrist is pulsing impossibly large, challenging the sharpness of the blade.

"...No."

She sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth, forcing her gaze to stay on him rather than the knife.

"I'm not. They don't trust me with that kind of thing."

[lachtara]

"Oh?" He asks curiously. "They, who?" This is an allusion to someone else. Allies, conspirators. It hardly matters which.

[aionpcs]

Vaeka thinks that should be obvious. She isn't pretending that she is the only member of an organization but she is also refusing to rat out a single ally. Even if it may mean her hand.

She steels herself, clenching her fist.

"...I forget."

cw: p-probably cw from here on /sweats

[lachtara]

"The mind can be fickle, but you are young and I have the utmost faith you may yet recall."

Emet-Selch turns and firmly grasps the knife in one free hand. A small conjuring of a spell catches the blade in a burst of fire, which are sure to sear skin and heat metal. With that, he slowly begins to twist the knife.

"Let us try a different subject, perhaps." The flames begin to crack. "Begin with locations of import. Strongholds, meeting places, or the like."

[aionpcs]

Vaeka's eyes widen at the conjuration and a new burst of panic sends her heart racing. If knives don't scare her, dangerous magic gets a visceral reaction. She closes her eyes as the combination of flame and metal begins to make its mark on her skin, sharp and sudden.

She hisses, instinctively trying to jerk her hand back and away from her aggressor. But forces her eyes back open.

"I don't remember...and even if I did, I'd never tell. Not to one of the Regent's lapdogs."

[vapour]

This is laughable. Each answer she gives is more and more pathetic. From his corner in the shadows he remains up against the wall, arms folded as his coat rests over his shoulders and his mask adorns his face. They don't trust me could have gone her way even if it's hard to imagine anyone willing to suffer for the sake of those who don't trust her, but then she has to say she forgets who it is that don't trust her. If Childe had his way, she'd already be dead. She's completely useless, as far as he's concerned.

Before Emet-Selch can respond (and he's sure the other would not respond kindly to being called a lapdog), he lets out a low whistle. "Can't believe that you really think not saying anything is going to make a difference, girlie! Don't you get it? You got ratted out by someone you trusted. More than just your name got back to the Regent already. That's why you're already on the chopping block."

He doesn't actually know any of that, of course, but he's an excellent liar when it matters.

Moving from his position he approaches both of them, his eyes fixed on the girl. For better or for worse he doesn't continue towards her, however, coming to put a hand on the other Kenoma's shoulder and lean in, but not before directly shooting one last comment Vaeka's way for her to think on. "—that or you're a shitty member of the resistance for getting caught so easy and are doing them a service getting yourself executed. Take your pick, I'm not fussy on the narrative~."

His voice lowers as he leans his head in to be level with the Emet-Selch's now. His voice is a murmur, above a whisper but not with interest in letting any other party hear it. "You sure you want to do this? She's not worth it— and we have no bargaining chip to dangle in front of her; not even a false hope with the Regent already decided on her execution. Even if you get something out of her, it'll be a lie, and we don't have enough time to make her regret lying about it."

Still no one likes being called a lapdog, even if Childe is well used to being called one. He'd understand if the older man wanted to retaliate.

He says a little louder for Vaeka to hear with a light shrug as he stands back up.

"I mean, I could suffocate her without even having to touch her, as an alternative. No need to be messy and leave evidence on her, right?"

He's not really interested, but he'll fuck with Vaeka's head all he likes.

vaeka's great escape megathread ... there will be separate headers for upcoming separate scenes!

[comelately]

[ It's been a long, tense few days, but for Johnny, this one promises to be the longest and tensest of them all. He's been in a lot of life-or-death situations thus far, in battles where he needs to do or die; this, however, is the first one where he doesn't have Gyro or Slow Dancer to help him out. Instead, the only bit of home is Tusk humming inside him - his companions now are Yuuta, upon whose back he's currently riding (again), and a bizarre little wood-elf-man-thing named Syrlya who he only really met a few days ago. Desperate times call for desperate measures, as they say, and war makes for some strange bedfellows.

Whatever. He looks like more a fighter than Johnny does, based strictly on appearances, so it doesn't really matter - plus, his ability is damn handy. It's much easier to approach the guarded building under the cloak of invisibility. Even then, they have to be quick. They're only going to get a single shot at this. Once his Stand ability is known by the enemy, he'll be at a much greater disadvantage, and he imagines the same is true for Yuuta and Syrlya. But, for the moment, they have a secret weapon: teleportation.

Syr told them they could still be heard, so he keeps his voice low as they near their target: a back corner of the building, nondescript enough. Johnny knows that there's a load-bearing beam just on the other side, though. One that he should be able to travel through. Has he tried it yet? Not really - but it has to work. ]

... This is the spot. [ he keeps his voice low. ] There's a couple of 'em in there that we're not gonna be able to sneak past, so I hope you're ready. Let's meet up on the other side of the cell door. All right? Don't leave me and the lady in there.

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya's focus is on one of the bar windows that seems to lead to the main hallway. The angle gives him just enough line of sight inside, but he knows that will be right into the guards as well.

So he already has both sword and shield at the ready.]

We won't. [He keeps his voice low as well.] We'll go in at the same time, and I'll draw their attention away so you can unlock the cell door with--Rika, was it? Yuuta will be joined by Rand coming in through the front so we can clear the way to get you both out.

[He glances up. Caitlyn should be in place by now as well with Akua, ready to handle the guards outside to give Rand and Yuuta a clearer path.

They're only going to have one shot at this.] Is everyone ready?

[recursive]

( it's different when it's someone else's life on the line. it's been quite a long time since yuuta really feared the ever-present reality of death, and it's an even more distant fear given the tenuous "immortality" that they had as Aions. but this woman, vaeka... she had no such supernatural security, and she was at risk to lose her life for the cause that she had been fighting for. if this were just a straight-up fight they were rushing into, he would be placid as still water, but with her life hanging in the balance... the young man is still outwardly calm (he'd learned that him at least appearing like he's confident helps keep everyone around him the same), but his stomach knots with apprehension.

the three of them wait under a cover of invisibility, close enough to the building that vaeka was kept captive in that the minutes were now winnowing down to the seconds. they couldn't waste time — not this close. syrlya's spell might have allowed them to approach, but it wouldn't allow them much closer than this; not without the risk of being seen through. they would split up here, and yuuta just had to hold in his heart that his companions would be alright without him. sending rika along with them gave him some peace of mind, but he would still try to bust through the front to back them up as quickly as possible. )

Yes. We're ready. ...Rika? ( a brief pause. ) I need you to look after and help Johnny and Syrlya, okay? Just for a little while.

( there's a lengthier pause, and then a voice ripples through the empty air, young and feminine beneath multiple layers of heavy distortion. ) If that's what you want me to do, Yuuta. ( she sounds plainly grudging, and yuuta knows it's not a perfect solution — he can give her orders up until her defensive programming takes effect, so... he'll just need to fend for himself for a while and not give her a reason to abandon her orders. he takes a deep breath to steady himself, and then he carefully shifts johnny off of his back, setting him down and for just a moment placing a firm, steadying hand on his shoulder. )

Stay aware of your surroundings, the people around you, and the situation. Communicate if you need help. ( he retrieves his hand and moves it to the hilt of his sword, shifting his posture so he's ready to move at a moment's notice. ) ...Let's go.

AIGHT... feel free to split off here!!

[comelately]

[ god, it's strange having someone (who isn't his race partner) actually care about him. Once again, the gesture of companionship seems to surprise him; he blinks at Yuuta when he sets a hand on his shoulder, then shifts his expression into something more serious. In another situation, Johnny might have smirked and been more confident - but, as noted, it's different when someone else's life is on the line. Instead, he just nods. ]

Yeah... same to you. Don't die. [ a beat; he glances over at Syrlya, too, who he doesn't know so well, but whose life is depending on him just the same - and vice versa. ] You too.

[ Rika's creepy voice isn't exactly comforting, especially knowing he accidentally stuck his whole foot in his mouth when they met. He tries to keep thinking of her as a Stand and not a scary ghost (which seems closer to the truth.) Once Yuuta cues that he's ready to go, Johnny shifts where he's sat, pulling himself into a precise position at the corner of the building. From there, events take place one after another, and very quickly: his hands and fingernails, light up with blue stars, a robotic-looking waist-high spirit appears out of the air beside him, and as Johnny holds his two fingers in a gun-like posture and jabs them into the side of his cheek, the Stand mimics the motion. Then, there's a loud buzzing noise, like a tiny fan spinning, and for an instant, Johnny's entire body distorts like he's being sucked into a black hole before he and Tusk are simply gone -- vanished into a tiny bullet-sized hole now marking the outside wall beside them. ]

>ciel, johnny, vaeka (and rika)

[comelately]

[ his gambit pays off - the proverbial tennis ball bounces onto the Kenoma's side of the net, and his nail manages to dig through the softer wooden support beam and out through the plaster on the other side of the inner cell wall.

The rest is off the books. Johnny prays that speed and the holy spirit are on his side, because he knows for a fact that luck never is.

When he enters the room, he has three immediate objectives: pinpoint Vaeka, figure out how many enemies there are, and find the door. Fortunately, the room isn't that big, so in the second or two it takes for him to pull his torso out of the wormhole, he's got all three mapped out. He sees Ciel - remembers her, the shady woman from Venera. Unfortunate. The other woman must be Vaeka. They were smart to keep someone in the cell with her.

Maybe it's because he recognizes Ciel that he doesn't aim for her first; instead, in that split-second to react, he levels his index finger at the door at the front of the room, firing his second nail, whirring like a chainsaw, right at the lock. At the same time, his body slips out of the bullethole in the wall and onto the floor with a thud. ]

[expiera]

[One more day to go before execution day. There have been attempts to free the prisoner, and while none has succeeded so far, it was very much no reason to let their guard grow lax. If anything, the more time passed, the higher the tensions mount: there's no doubt in any Kenoma's mind that the Pleroma will keep trying until they exhaust their resources, whether it be time or themselves.

Thus once Rand was successfully freed, they could no longer afford any shred of complacency, any gap in their defenses. Ciel didn't stop Emet-Selch during his 'interrogations', she simply began taking his place whenever the Ascian was no longer keeping the prisoner company. She also opts to erecting a barrier within the cell where the rebel captive is held, though there was no telling if it would be any effective at keeping things out and in.

Effective enough, as it turned out. Johnny makes it in, but Ciel is alerted to an intruding presence the moment the bullet pierces through and distorts a magical layer he could not know was there. The breach's awareness affords her a split-second to observe him, and it's both the lack of hostile intent and the way he focuses that makes his goal immediately obvious. Two Black Keys cut through the air in response: one to intercept the bullet (??) aimed towards the lock, the other towards the crippled but not-so-helpless Pleroma Firebrand's leveled index. As the nail-like swords are magical in nature, canceling out whatever the man had fired would be ideal, but if not, she's prepared to contain the prisoner first and dispatch the newcomer second through any means at her disposal.

That she recognizes the man and that he can't walk... Ah, nothing personal. He gets it too, doesn't he?]

[comelately]

[ he figured that she had some sort of ability if she was the one guarding Vaeka directly, but he had no idea what it might be, and they had no intelligence on her at all - now he's seeing that she's right. The nail collides with her black key destructively, the hole it leaves in its wake immediately working its way through the blade, but suspended in the air without a pathway to its destination, it won't accomplish much more than shredding the key. Which, actually, might be a good thing for Johnny; the fact that his bullet doesn't hit its mark means he has half a second of extra time to yank his hand back before her second blade slices off his finger.

Christ alive. He'd better be careful, or she'll disarm him (quite literally.) Looks like this will be a little harder than he thought. Eight bullets left... If her ability is - apparently - to summon blades out of nowhere, there's no telling where she might strike next. Which means he'd better get this over with before she gets a good grasp of what he's capable of. ]

Tch...!

[ he uses the split-second momentum of yanking his hand back to push another finger up to his jaw; meanwhile, his off-hand's the one pointing downwards, and he takes the moment to fire from both, Tusk appearing briefly at his side before both Stand and user are sucked into another bullet. The one that went to the floor is now a bullet-hole crater, moving steadily towards Ciel's leg and leaving a path of destruction in its wake; the other takes Johnny with it and flies to the ceiling with similar intent, though this time, it's burrowing towards the door again. If he can just destroy enough of it... ]

[expiera]

[Her gaze narrows further as she takes in the result of collision between bullet (it's not a regular bullet; it's too thin, it spins, it's too compact--) and Key: it is evidently supernatural—spiritual, and has the power to cause some sort of spatial distortion. She's not left wondering for long; some sort of... pink shimmer? Flickers at his side, and in the next moment, he shoots two nail bullets.

There's no room for interpretation. His crouched stance was that of a sniper, he held nothing in his hands before he fired. One moment, he was perched from distorted space, the next, he's gone with his shot.

Her priority is clear.

The crater on the ground is barely given a passing glance. Sharp and steely blue remain firmly fixed on the nail that the intruder disappeared with, and within the next instant, three additional Keys have appeared in her hand. Clenched between her knuckles to create a fan-like formation, they are then thrown in turn at different intervals. The first is based on her instinct in trying to catch the nail bullet early, the second is based on initial impression and assumption, and the third is based on observation and calculation. All three are imbued with a spell that will cause its target to burst into flames upon impact; if the first two miss, the last one may graze its target a mere few centimeters away from the cell door.

At the expense of her own mobility, perhaps; focused on the bullet that she can spiritually perceive and interfere with thanks to her superhuman capabilities, she only manages to shift her stance enough to get one leg out of the bulldozing crater's way. Damaged flesh and bone in one leg is acceptable anyway, as long as she doesn't risk losing the limb whole. Her powers do have limits here, she can't be too complacent with the nigh perfect immortality she possessed before.]

> Gray, Syrlya, Rand (later Vaeka)

[chronosynthesis]

Of course. [Though Syrlya's concern is less on himself and more everyone else. But there isn't time for longer declarations, so he offers Yuuta and Johnny a nod in affirmation.

And then their off. Syrlya moves out of the alley and focuses his attention on the barred window, narrowing his eyes as he focuses on the space just beyond it.

And then, in an instant and a crack of magic, he's on the other side. The invisibility spell rapidly wears off in that moment, as Syrlya no longer maintains it in the face of, well, that he's about to get into a fight.

He moves the Achamite shield in his off hand in a defensive position to his front as he moves forward. Looks like it was the right hall, and he sees Gray nearby what must be the cell with Vaeka. Gray looks... young, but not so much for him to assume she isn't a threat. He's not good at estimating the other race's ages but that's Old Enough.]

You can surrender now and make this easy. [And now no one can say he didn't try mercy?]

[gravings]

[ Things were bound to get a little hectic on the day before the execution. This isn't even the first person to zap themselves into the prison from out of nowhere, so Gray isn't as surprised as she maybe should be. She feels a whispering relief that it isn't Johnny this time, but someone entirely new to her — though she has to wonder what this means for her companions outside, if they've been incapacitated or if they're completely unaware that the prison is being breached.

But now isn't the time for those kinds of worries. This odd-looking intruder is clearly here to fight. ]

Add.

[ It might sound like an untimely command to do arithmetic, but she's actually talking to something else: a tiny box she draws from her cloak, its eerie, intricately carved face not unlike that of the intruder in front of her. The box is only out for a split second before it's expanding and reforming magically, twisting like a Rubik's cube until it snaps into the form of an oversized scythe in the blink of an eye.

She isn't the sort for battle banter. The intruder has made his intentions clear, so there's no reason to hesitate; she launches herself at him like a human bullet, her cumbersome-looking weapon having no apparent effect on her speed. Her scythe carves an elegant ring around her as she whips it around with enough force to turn it into a battering ram, aiming directly at his shield. ]

[dragonmount]

[ this prison isn't rand's favorite place in the world, but not returning today wasn't an option.

doubtful that any among the pleroma in godsblood would've forced him to come if he'd refused, of course. but he'd chosen to stay in the city to try saving vaeka lovenskol, and whatever happened in between then and now he's still committed to that. more committed to that than before, maybe. so whatever he might feel about being back here gets buried as deep down as he can. there'll be time for that later. himeka's healing means he's in good enough shape to fight, whatever time he might need to come back to normal — that can wait for later, too.

right now, he follows yuuta in the building, but with more discretion — no obvious channeling outside, avoidance of too clearly being part of the rescue team. no one knows him for an aion in godsblood, let alone pleroma, and he. lives here, for better or worse. (feels like worse for the locals of the city, but that's another thing that can wait until later.)

so: his arrival to this fight is a little delayed. so: once he's inside, all bets are off about obvious channeling. but there's still a beat of hesitation as he comes upon the scene. with some surprise: ]

— Gray?

[ but no, there isn't time for that. he lets saidin pour through him, channels it into a weave of air that he throws her way. if it strikes, it'd feel kind of like running into a wall, if a wall were thrown at you, all blunt battering force. ]

[chronosynthesis]

[Syrlya's approach remains slow, wary about whatever kind of focus that is. But is doesn't unleash some large magical blast like he expects--it houses a weapon, and he shouldn't take it as any less of a threat but he feels more prepared for that.

He lets her run towards him, waiting to follow the curve of her movement before he lunges forward with a twist of his body to deflect the blow with his shield at an angle so that his shoulder doesn't absorb as much of the shock.

Her weapon gives her better range than his, so rather than approach from the front he steps back and gestures with his sword hand. Vibrantly colored purple magic starts to swirl from the fingertips and under Grays' feet, and once formed a large circle with clock hands ticking down aims to send shocking pain through her at every second she remains standing in that spot.

He's focused enough on Gray he almost misses Rand's entrance, until there's channeled wind blowing past him. He looks back at him with a quick look of acknowledgement, but right now they're in the fight.] Let's clear the way!

> yuuta & amos

[recursive]

( for just a second, yuuta is frozen in place, eyes flown wide from what he'd just seen. having never really seen that particular capability of johnny's abilities in action... wow! it was crazier than even the craziest cursed techniques he's seen!

but he can't waste any further time. for just a few paces he runs alongside syrlya until they as well vanish, teleporting through an open window and into the building; he continues to blaze a path along the side of the building and towards its entrance, all the while sketching out a mental map of distances so he could make judgments once inside on where to go in order to join them. if the scene around him descends into chaos, yuuta doesn't pay it any heed — any guards posted around the building can be readily dealt with by caitlyn and akua as they provide ranged support. if rand is also closing in on the entrance, he doesn't immediately see him. all he sees is a closed, barred door — but not for long.

it wouldn't be strange if one raised an eyebrow when they saw yuuta, a thin and wiry scrap of a kid, barreling at the prison's door as if he could bust his way through them. one might even laugh or begin to raise their voice in concern when he raises one leg to kick at it. but when that kick connects, it's not necessarily the force from his heel so much as a wave of cursed energy he puts into it that rocks the door and blows it open, going so far as to splinter the wood and damage the masonry that it was connected to. from the inside of the building it would've looked like an artillery shell blew the thing open, but the first thing that runs through the door is...

a teenager.

yuuta begins to race through the building in the rough direction he knew vaeka's cell to be in, eyes scanning with surgical precision as he does so to try to locate any Kenoma threat that he can keep locked down here and not bursting into the cell to further complicate matters over there. the one that he finds is amos, and then he makes a beeline for him. if the dead severity in his eyes isn't a giveaway for his intention, it's hard to mistake once he draws the falchion from the sheath at his side, leveling it as he runs. )

[baltimores]

[ It isn't a surprise that the Pleroma are making an assault. It isn't even a surprise that they've waited this long to do it. But everything still feels chaotic, the suddenness of this attack, and Amos isn't in the fighting shape he was a few days ago.

Oh, he'll still do it; that's why he's up and running towards all that noise, the sound of a door getting borderline demolished catching his attention first and foremost. Ciel is with Vaeka; she'll be fine handling things on her own there. He needs to tackle other threats as best he can.

Which might be something of a tall order considering how he's now down a couple of fingers; considering how he lost a lot of blood when his throat got cut just a day ago. But. What else can he do, right? This is his job. This is all he's really good for, so he's ready to face what smashes through that door head on. He has to be.

... He is not expecting a teenager.

He is not expecting a teenager with that kind of look in his eyes, and the second it takes Amos to register both Yuuta, the telltale Pleroma clinging to him like a disease, and the fact that he means business is enough for Yuuta to get the jump, coming at him probably a bit faster than he can handle. (And fuck, is he fucking tired of swords.) He's got no weapons on him — it's just him and some light armour, prepared at least that much for the occasion. And as much as he'd prefer to not fight someone so young, well... that choice has been made for him, hasn't it.

Amos' lips curve into a snarl as he rushes forward to meet Yuuta, slower than he should be, weaker than he should be, but ready to give everything he still has. He knows better than to underestimate anyone just because they're small.

He'll do his best to block the falchion with his armour, though there are gaps in it, so of course he's vulnerable; takes a swing right for Yuuta's head, though. Knock him out, capture a Pleroma, provide additional backup is basically the goal. ]

[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. )

[baltimores]

[ He doesn't like that Yuuta is so young.

Amos has been wrestling with Yuya's presence here since the beginning. Something about it has always sat wrong with him; wouldn't, if they were on the same side, but since Yuya hadn't obliged him in that request... And now the Pleroma have someone else; a little older, still, but—

He's getting conflicting messages here. From the way Yuuta hits him with blunt force rather than piercing. It's almost certainly going to leave a bruise, but it's not lethal. Maybe he can even downplay it to an annoyance at best. (He can't; when this is all over, he's certainly going to have at least one thing to remember Yuuta by.) From the emotions he's picking up from their shared legacy, the way Yuuta does not have that killer instinct.

But then the fact that Yuuta clearly knows what he's doing. Has been in this kind of confrontation before, even though his youth shows on him. In any other scenario, Amos would feel for him; here, he takes it as permission, because he does have a killer instinct. Has had it since he was younger than Yuuta presently is.

Amos had taken his first life at fifteen without much thought. It seemed like the right thing to do, so he did it; quick and easy, someone unsuspecting, a shotgun up close against the chest. The second and third lives he took mere days later had been much more brutal, and he'd taken his fair share of damage along the way. But he'd also learned what it was to be a wild animal, to chew off the foot caught in a trap not so he could escape but so that he could lunge at his attacker and end his life with nothing more than his hands. If he could do it at that age, then surely Yuuta can do something similar at this age, even if he doesn't seem to want to.

Which works to Amos' advantage. So. That's one decision made, then.

Amos brings his arms up to try to block Yuuta's blows, effectively pinned; speed is not in his repertoire. Not like this. He is nothing more than a talented amateur with no filter and blessed with exceptional strength. It's reminiscent of his time in space, which is probably why he'd developed it as an Aion — Belters grow up in lower gravity. Their bones, their muscles, their cardiovascular system, their bodies are all weaker. Unless he ran into someone else from Earth up there (and even then), any time he got into a fight he always had the upper hand, never had to develop anything more. Which is turning into something of a problem here, because it's clear Yuuta outskills him, but when you're born down in the mud you learn to use that to your advantage. Take your blows, because you can take anything; hit back harder than anything they've ever thrown at you.

He leaves an opening for Yuuta, clear as day, in trade for making a grab at the arm controlling the falchion; his other fist pulling back in preparation to nail Yuuta with a worse blow than his first one. Beat him into submission.

It's worked before; as long as he can find a way to sustain everything Yuuta is hitting him with now — and that's not exactly an easy task, but it's one that he thinks he's up for, has no choice but to be up for — then he figures there's no reason it shouldn't work again. Seventeen; a grown adult when he'd been fifteen — in this moment of battle, there's no difference to him. ]