aionlogs | EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (GODSBLOOD)

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EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (GODSBLOOD)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[There's no preamble, no warning. The wall of ice is accompanied by a flurry of six slender, rapier like swords raining down from above, their source a darkly robed figure perched atop the chilling conjuring. Each packs enough force to punch through concrete, aimed for shoulder and knee joints to incapacitate with impunity. Legacy bearers of the Martyr have a split second to recognize their own, before the assailant jumps down towards Himeka with the intent to deliver a crushing kick backed by gravity's momentum directly to her head. The red-headed woman is the caster who can command offensive and healing magic, Emet-Selch had already shared intel about this Pleroma Wanderer and it's information Ciel has no intent on squandering. It's only logical to take out support first, the other monster who works so hard to disguise his own capabilities can come after.

How courteous of their foes, to not only linger but also isolate themselves for easy picking. How advantageous this is, that they have the great element of surprise on their side. How fortuitous they are, that the Pleromas they have happened across are also linked to a certain Entity. Words are truly unnecessary; Emet-Selch will provide magical backup, Ciel will take care of things directly in the fray. They will succeed this time, whatever it takes.]

[ 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 ]

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. ]

[ 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. ]

[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.]

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

[ 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. ]

[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.]

[ Her magicks can't heal deep wounds even if they can lessen the damage or stay off the effects for a while. What scares her, though, is how she can't simply straighten herself to prepare for the next attack. It should be enough, shouldn't it? They've only just begun and she has single-handedly fought off several foes of significant power using only her White Magicks plenty of times before. She's fought gods and came out victorious. A few swords in her gut should be a preamble.

Why is there still blood pooling in her mouth? Staining her dress?

Himeka coughs again, sending blood outward in spurts as she's feeling the first real blast of cold down her spine--but it's not from the ice, it's fear. Fear that, for some reason, somehow, she may not be able to heal through this. That she can't hold off Ciel's attacks not just for herself, but for her friend. She has to summon up another spell and fast, though she only has one more shield left available before she needs to recharge...--

And then the air around her shifts in a burst. It could send her to her knees, but instead she finds herself clutched protectively by arm and wing alike, neither of which are familiar. But there's a part of her that already knows it can only be one person. She grips that arm--it's keeping her steady--and looks over the line of her shoulder. ]

--Abel?

[ This...this is what he's been hiding? ]

[ Then the next onslaught begins. Ciel's timely departure should be indication enough, but Himeka can feel that shift in the aether once again, a swirling mass of angry heat that she's so used to being on the casting end of. She grits her teeth--she's not a barrier healer and she doesn't know what Abel's wings can withstand, but she can try to mitigate the damage.

A swirl of green aether forms around her feet as she begins to cast before it explodes around them in a prismatic blast of light. It feels like a breath of fresh air forcibly filling her own lungs, pleasantly tingling her skin, and lessening some of the pain in her torso for now. Abel will also receive the benefits of it's soothing effects, at least for the next half a minute.

Fire is all around them, taking down the ice barrier that Emet-Selch had initially used to trap them. It seems like that is their safest space right now, even though she realizes it gives Ciel an easy target to shoot.

Himeka shifts tactics as a small blue orb begins to rotate around her and Abel, given that he's sharing the same space. As fearsome as he looks, she trusts him implicitly. ]

This-- [ She explains as she sucks in a ragged breath. ] --takes me a moment to cast, can you--?

[ Withstand it for a few more seconds? Could he even fly them away? ]

[ he can afford to pay no mind to anything but the churning fury of magic, an ebb and flow he can only perceive thanks to his heightened connection with the Pleroma. this is a new skill, a new enlightenment, and his eyes aren't yet trained to follow the dizzying sensations: Ciel's ministrations, Himeka's... Emet-Selch's, building and burning white-hot on the sea breeze.

all Abel knows is that the very air is becoming stifling, suffocating, as unnatural flame begins to lick and curl, expanding and ripping up the docks as though appearing from nowhere. this... is Emet-Selch's doing, and he can feel the mercilessness behind it. this man is not holding back, fully intends to raze them both to ash.

and Ciel would happily watch.

as if in jarring juxtaposition, Abel also feels his body being permeated with a cooling, rejuvenating energy he recognizes as Himeka's own - it sits in stark contrast to the sharpness of fire and flame threatening to consume them whole-- and her haggard question is one he barely answers with a decisive nod. wings spread, and in one sweeping gesture, he has lifted Himeka into his arms and is carrying both of them skyward bound in a powerful leap. if time is what she needs--

he will give it to her. ]

--Please hold on. Himeka... hold on. It's-- it will be okay.

[ not to him, and not for their harried place upward and airborne--

but to life. please don't--

please hold on... ]

[ The winged creature darts up from the flames, leaving a trail of embers behind them. They obviously aim to make a quick escape.

Emet-Selch makes for the quickest spell he can muster, one whose dark presence has always found a place with him, and one that the Kenoma seemed to favor. Perhaps one that those little lights would find it particularly unpleasant.

He lets his staff fall to his side and raises his hand into the air. With a sudden snap, they would be consumed in a wash of absolute roiling darkness intent on smothering their light. ]

[Tch. Self-sacrificial, the both of them.

So much for that storm of hellfire. Ciel had briefly considered switching to magecraft herself, but sensing Emet-Selch's magic at work once more and witnessing how the previous spell did little to slow their opponents, abandons the idea without second thought. She's not a magus anyway, never had been and never will be.

The demonic creature rises further into the air; they're buying time, and she cannot allow them. Kicking herself off the ground, she shoots off towards the closest ancient ship nearby. Repurposed to serve as a building of business, she swiftly jumps her way up to the top of the mast before propelling herself upward like a human bullet, beneath dark wings that must have surely heralded much destruction and despair. She may be incapable of flight, but they will find her a highly mobile and aerial adversary. Emet-Selch's spell is a timely assist too, they may not see her coming with the cloaking darkness that may snuff out more senses than just their sight. The Keys in her fist are renewed for another stab: Himeka is still the priority target, but Ciel will certainly not complain if she ends up staking through a vampire's body instead.]

[ this isn't the acrid smoke wafting upward as part of the dock gives way to flames; the darkness that encroaches his vision - a vision that grows hazy despite its unnatural acuity in normal nightfall - and makes him feel suffocated in an uneasiness he cannot describe...

...Abel is at a loss against opponents with such craft at their fingertips.

the only thing he can do is continue to gain momentum and altitude; his opponents are grounded (or so he thinks) and in a bid for time for Himeka to prepare whatever is at her disposal, to avoid being caught unawares - he does not stop his upward climb.

at least, not until he senses it with a fraction of a second's time to react - there's a disturbance in the current and flow of his perception as his opponent is very suddenly airborne, the sound of objects in motion raising Abel's internal alarm. he shifts his grip, jutting his free arm up just in time to permit the limb to be impaled with a splash of bright red blood.

blood that, should any of it be carried to splatter across Ciel or her clothing, may begin to immediately begin eating away at whatever it touches like acid.

red eyes burn through the darkness to find those of a too-clear blue; Abel's resolution remains unwavering. she knew he was a monster, but--

suppose he knew the same in reverse, and he will not show her mercy if she continues to aim for his most precious ward. he will not let this light die. ]

[ They finally have a little room to breathe, thanks to Abel. Room to breathe and to prepare as she readies an ice spell that, while not nearly as powerful, could try to counteract some of the damage all this fire is doing.

And then it's all darkness.

She recognizes the spell instantly, including the sharp cut of the aether as it explodes around them, but has no way to counter it. Emet-Selch is really going for broke, isn't he? A part of her had imagined--nay, hoped that their last conversation had been only the shock that needed time to settle, not a true show of his renewed conviction. He burns those hopes along with the docks. She can smell sea life being cooked in their own home beneath them.

He's fully prepared to tear this world to the ground in pain, for them to suffer as his people did if he cannot have that, isn't he?

Himeka's cast is interrupted as Abel is forced to shift her weight around. No blizzard is delivered. She can smell rather than see the blood--that they're both injured in more than just smoke and heat is not a good sign. She clenches her right fist again, expending a second lily to send a new rush of vitality directly to Abel this time.

It's time to shift her tactics, the little blue orb disappearing entirely. If Emet-Selch will try to envelope them in the darkness he feels in his heart, the only way to meet him in kind is to fill it with light.

She releases her hold on Abel, trusting him to keep her aloft as she extends both of her harms out. A prismatic aurora swirls at their feet as a new ball of bright blue light forms above her head. In a few seconds she raises her right hand, sending the ball upwards as it leaves a comet's tail of that same aurora, before it explodes above them in the shape of a blooming flower, delivering a punch of aether to those in their immediate vicinity and scattering the darkness around them into a mosaic of cloud-like voids. ]

[ Even without being in the direct path of the spells sweltering blue petals, he could feel their effects keenly. The sickening swath of light could wear his strength to nothing if it is allowed to continue. Emet-Selch takes a moment to put his hand to his head and take a steadying breath.

He would not fall to this accursed blessing of light. His face grimaces with determination through the dizziness. Not when he had work to finish.

Emet-Selch lifts a hand upward and his physical form fades into a purple and black swath of shadow. The shadow snakes through the open air and closes the distance between him and Ciel almost instantly. He returns to his physical form at her side, disregarding the gravity that is surely meant to tie them to the ground.

To deal with their adversaries then. He arcs his staff back with both hands. It disappears in a rush of smoke-like shadow and reforms into a large black blade with intricate silver detailing. The blade is long as he is tall and looks plainly unwieldy, but he is able to handle it with ease. Emet-Selch smiles at them briefly - a dangerous and malicious smile - before he cleaves the blade forward toward his enemies. A swelling rush of darkness accompanies his swing. It is not a gesture meant to cut. It is angled to run them both through all at once. ]

[Instinct, premonition, or something else? The source is unclear, but intrinsically, she knows: every part of this monster is blasphemous, dangerous, its blood is no exception. But at this altitude and with this proximity, there was nowhere for her to dodge—not that she would even if she could, she is not letting go.

Crimson splashes onto the length of her arm and her face, instantly setting flesh sizzling while her clothing remains whole. Her robes are magically enhanced to be able to weather the caustic substance for at least a little bit, but Ciel herself is nevertheless of human flesh and bones. Her expression tightens, and it's the only hint of pain: she invited this willingly upon herself, by using the blades that have pierced a heretical being's arm as anchor to pull herself closer. Melted skin and gnawed flesh give way to fresh blood running freely down her cheek, yet icy blue remains decisively locked onto fiery red as monsters mirror each other's unwavering resolve even as they irreconcilably clash against one another. Like this, she can, with her free hand--

--No, she won't have enough time. The magical energies gathered by Himeka have reached critical point, she can feel it on the verge of overflowing in the very air around them. All she can do is raise her other palm to throw out a hastily woven magical barrier, which along with Emet-Selch's previous spell of protection cast upon her person, end up absorbing the worst of the flower's explosive impact. The light may be disorienting and blinding, almost burning, but her grip holds fast and she is not shaken off. That's the key part, that's what matters. That's all that matters.

And within the next moment, Emet-Selch has joined them.

No exchange of any form is necessary, Ciel knows what she must do the moment the Ascian has manifested his staff. Pouring additional mana into strengthening her limbs, her free hand begins gathering mana anew as she pulls her body up and brings a foot flat against the vampire's torso. Its skewered arm is then yanked downward as its body feels a kick less like someone trying to harm and more like someone trying to jump; as if being treated like springing board, it'll be too late by the time the winged figure realizes what she has done. It's already provided her with the solid support she needs, in order to catapult herself back into the air with complete disregard to the consequences of gravity. Like the swing of a pendulum, Ciel arcs above them as a magical circle unfurls at her outstretched fingertip directly right atop their heads, it's immediately followed by a beam of destructive magic that can likely smite through a building in a heartbeat.

A horizontal cleave from the front, and a vertical blast from overhead. The Kenomas have trained together, and they can—and will—see their goal come to fruition.]

[ the blade is extricated from his arm with another splatter of blood as Emet-Selch comes into view; the Ascian's ominous sneer is an ill omen if Abel ever saw one. his grip on Himeka's waist tightens as he observes the culmination of swirling magical currents - a torrent that is almost disorienting for how they congregate around the Kenoma. the flower Abel's comrade had summoned - and its powerful, luminous explosion - bought them precious time, but--

it seems even hard-won seconds evaporate in the face of a pair of far too synchronized adversaries.

he barely has time to brace for Emet-Selch's cleave; Abel prepares to flap his wings and carry them sharply backward, try to escape the long and impossibly nimble reach of that blade-- but there is a heavy, ragged exhale as Ciel launches herself off of his person and into the air, first. the menacing consequences of her gathered energies is naught but a horrible light in his periphery, the only warning he receives that something bad is coming--

and instinct is all that saves him -- and perhaps Himeka, too -- from taking the brunt of the Kenomas' coordinated attack unmitigated. Abel does not flee for distance, but instead curls his wings around their bodies like a protective cocoon as tightly as he can manage--

...even if it might strike him later how such blows that would normally glance off of his nigh-impenetrable wings instead pierce, incinerate, and rend his feathery appendages. the sword sinks through, though it might not manage to penetrate as deep as intended where it threatens to burrow into his shoulder-- and the blast from above is enough to have Abel uttering a pained, surprised noise upon impact.

then they are hurdling on a downward trajectory from the force of the vertical blast, Abel's wings tattered and singed unable to support flight, regenerating at a sluggish, unfathomably slow pace for his normal capacities. this is... impossible; had he the wits to properly understand how cataclysmically his normal abilities have failed him, he might be concerned. as it stands--

the only thing he can do is dazedly tighten his hold on Himeka, the only thing he is concerned with is her already wounded body, tucking her to his chest folded in what remains of his wings and pray they fall in the water. (...truly tragic, then, they're on a collision course for the burning docks instead.) ]

[ That Emet-Selch makes his appearance in the air isn't surprising--the fact he has decided to take them head on is. Now well-aware of how much he dislikes this style of combat, the fact that he is willing to do so, to look them in the eyes as he drives that great sword forward is telling in all the worst ways.

The fact that a part of her still goes how could he is even more pitiful.

They're moving backwards thanks to Abel before Himeka could begin to utter anything in response. Battle--survival comes first. Survival comes first and though she has only one bubble of damage mitigation left, she doesn't hesitate to cast it on Abel just in case.

In the end, it doesn't matter. Ciel uses Abel as a spring board and bears down upon them in perfect time with Emet-Selch's cleave. Himeka's instincts dictate another burst of healing on impact, but it isn't enough--encapsulated in the fortress of Abel's wings, it may offer succor to the instant of pain, but it does nothing to repair what is already too broken. She can feel the way her stomach tries to shoot up into her chest as they start to fall.

This is bad.

He's bleeding. She's bleeding right back on him. And the scorched docks are fast approaching beneath them. Abel is already preparing himself to take the brunt of that impact, but she doesn't know how either of them can withstand it in their current state, much less the flames. She shouts in frustration as she shoves both of her hands outward past his wings, calling forth an instant burst of wind towards the docks. The flames blow over with the gust, but so do they, changing their trajectory instead towards the heated water.

A small blue orb appears once again to orbit around them like a newly captured moon.

When they hit the surface, she nearly loses her breath, slamming back into Abel with the impact. And down they sink.

A moment later, a sudden tower of ice breaks through the water line before shattering nary a second later, cooling the around them. ]

[ All they've left to do is watch from above. Emet-Selch's eyes narrow at the two as they fall haplessly into the water below. A shame that this is what it's come to, but it's necessary all the same.

Ciel is left to gravity's whims as Emet-Selch exchanges his blood-tipped sword for the mage's staff at the flick of a wrist. Magic is his constant and preferred companion, and he's glimpsed what that 'acid' could do besides.

The very next moment, he outstretches his hand and crosses the distance between him and Ciel with the same slithering shadow as before. Emet-Selch catches her by the wrist to slow her descent and she is lowered gently to the charred surface below. Again, demonstrating an unspoken promise that he would safeguard his allies where he could.

As Emet-Selch's feet touch the ground he swings his staff at the ready and begins concentrating once more. This time, the snaps of electricity begin to pop in the air around them. Water alone would not be their undoing.

If not evident enough in action, the ruinous look in his eyes clearly shows that he intended for this to be the last spell he would cast that night. He would drag them back as shards. ]

[Like an ill-fated star, they fall, they sink.

...And so does she; for all her acrobatics, Ciel cannot teleport or fly. At this height, she can make a standing landing by further reinforcing her body, but knowing her limits on Horos, she will cause a crater in concrete and have her legs (temporarily) crushed in the process, if not punch straight through wood and join their targets in the ocean beneath. She braces herself for impact despite knowing Emet-Selch's stance over how he treats his allies, and it is not a question of trust. She should simply be able to handle herself regardless of circumstance at all times, expecting help from others is not something she is in the habit of doing. Thus it's something of a surprise to be caught, and she accepts the assist as it is. Her face is still in pain, but the disfiguration caused by the caustic blood is already healing. In a few hours at most, it'll be gone completely.

They land, and she steps away from him. Her attention quickly shifts from the point on the ocean's surface where their targets have crashed back onto Emet-Selch, the instant she feels prickling on her skin the enormous amount of magical energy he's begun gathering again. He intends to—]

Emet-Selch.

[She turns to face him, standing firmly in front of him with her arms lowered >~~(for now)~~ at her side. (Does her face look bad? She shows no hint of acknowledging her fading wound.)]

We can take them back for questioning. They will also help us bait out the Innocence Entity better alive.

[As hostages, it goes unspoken. This is a recourse made with rationale and reason. Will he stay his hand? This may not be completely over yet, but it's undeniable that they already have the upper hand. If he goes any further...]

[ In some ways the water is a blessed reprieve, especially after the blizzard spell has cooled it to a more reasonable temperature in their vicinity. The force of the impact is something she can still feel in every bone of her body, but her concern isn't for her own state--it's Abel. He took the brunt of the impact and several others besides, shielding her from the worst of both of their adversaries.

In the water his wings look no better than they had in the air, raw and mangled even if they are no longer actively burning. His hold on her has lessened considerably as they continue to sink and she can see bubbles of air leaking from his mouth. He looks dazed, but not fully unconscious.

Himeka grunts as she pushes back against him, separating herself further from his hold, but just for a moment. She's feeling weakened from the blood loss, but it's not enough to stop her from scooting around him so that she can wrap her arms around Abel's torso from the back. She inhales deep, the water filtering without issue thanks to the Kojin's blessing she's had throughout her life, and with a few kicks and powerful lashes of her tail, she pushes them upwards towards the surface.

When they break the surface, it's far from graceful. Red starts to stain the water around them and Himeka is vaguely aware of their adversaries still on the docks, keeping them in her peripheral. Her tail moves with an ease that the rest of her cannot as it moves like a snake beneath the waves, directing them towards the shore. There, she can attend to his wounds...or die trying, if the static in the air is any indication of the next impending onslaught from Emet-Selch. But she can't risk going under water again. She can't risk him. ]

H-Hold on just a moment longer...

[ How could this have gone so terribly? ]

[ their plummet into the water (water--? he had been so sure they'd hit the docks; Himeka... she truly is amazing) is one he barely feels for the way his nerves are already taxed from their efforts in regeneration far slower than they should be. maybe he is mildly concussed after taking the downward blast to the head; even so--

though he isn't aware... the feeling of Himeka's arms winding around him beneath the temperate water (not boiling; again, she'd manage to save them a most unpleasant fate) is accompanied by the more virulent tingle of genuine, faster recovery. the blood she oozes clouding the murky water is unwittingly providing a boon from one Aion to the next... and by the time his head is bobbing above the surface -- Abel's wits have recovered enough he can actively aid in his own salvation.

he takes in a breath of air, coughing, spluttering momentarily and prepares to tell her to swim, to flee if she needs to--

--and instead, the only thing that leaves him is a choked, strangled sound as a burning, familiar pain shoots up from his right hand across his body, rippling like a wave permeating muscle, sinew and bone alike. the unnatural glow from the Innocent's sigil has spread -- a faint but unmistakable light as his ears fill with the sound of cacophonous screaming.

--Estinien.

smoldering red eyes falter, flicker, and fade back into blue as the disorienting and nauseating assault steals his newly regained sense from him as well as vitality. Estinien. --Estinien. a panicked flood, urgent and heavy, becomes his sole focus.

something has gone horribly, terribly awry with their friend... and the vow they had made to protect him is being tested.

they are being found unworthy. ]

EVENT #5: SOVEREIGN CITIZENS (GODSBLOOD)

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1/2

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1/2 cw: blood but that's probably a given

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cw: blood? idk there's just violence this whole thread,

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tw: disfiguration, blood, more violence, etc etc

ya the cw's go all the way down,

everyone's having a great time

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