EVENT #6: BY HEAVEN OR HELL (WRAP-UP)

[aionmods]

By Heaven or Hell

THE SNARE (cw: gore)

Above Achamoth, blow after brutal blow is rained down upon the Sanctifier. It's fiery wings have been drowned by the abyssal waters of Childe's corrupted voyager, and its chest torn open by the Regent's power. Though it tries to flee, it is assailed from all sides, tearing away scales and burning flesh, its eyes blinded with blood and infection. Even its roar has been torn, the damage to its throat leaving its thundering voice strangled and broken. As Childe's lance drives through the top of its skull and out the bottom of its jaw, it seems that its demise must be imminent.

Yet, this is a creature of the Pleroma. Fueled by a force that fights for life at all costs, the Sanctifier is denied an easy rest. Fitting, perhaps, that its host refuse just as vehemently. Within this ravaged body, Estinien Wyrmblood still struggles, even as each breath is choked by blood and blinding pain. He refuses. He's not ready to be mourned. He's not ready for the fight to end. Himeka, Abel, Hayame... he'd told them... he'd told them he would stay by their side...

On faltering wings, the Sanctifier makes a final effort. The Pleroma responds to Estinien's resolve, and the fire within it ignites in a desperate burst, driving it to escape this city and defend its comrades. Estinien will feel his soul seared with the intensity of his wish, burning him up in the overwhelming light of this undying sun. All the while, the power of the Innocence holds his spirit close, as if hoping to shield him from what is to come. It pleads with him to relent, as it knows this course, and he will not return the same.

With that surge of light, it seem for a moment that the Sanctifier may actually accomplish it, that its wings might ferry it away from the shadows that bite at its heels. However, it's not to be. Not with the trap that's been set, but he Kenoma and their master.

Darkness swells at six points around the city. Six void-dark spears, deposited by the Regent's most trusted followers, activate as the Regent aims their final shot. Six rays of the abyss pierce Achamoth's sky, each one piercing through the Sanctifier's core, stopping its desperate effort before it can truly begin. Though the bolts of darkness seem to stretch for for miles at first, gradually the blur of shadow fades, resolving in the great dragon's body run through by spikes of purest Kenoma. The Sanctifier crumbles, the light of its form dissolving, one last broken cry of agony escaping.

The arrangement of spears holds true with the shift of its form, and as the light of the Pleroma leaves him, instead there is only Estinien. Instead of a colossal dragon, one man bears the wounds of the Sanctifier, his torso ravaged by the spears piercing it and the Regent's power, held in place despite the futile twitches of his battered wings. Just as the Sanctifier was missing a claw, he is missing a finger, and blood pours from his forehead where a lance just was, down through the bottom of his mouth. Ichor drains from one brutalized eye, the other opened wide with shock despite its visible pains.

Estinien tries to speak, but cannot. His hands struggle to pry a spear free from his chest, but he finds no purchase. His broken body hangs above the city for several seconds, as if on display, before an orb of void envelopes him and he disappears.

A FINAL BENISON

After the agonizing end of the Sanctifier, the presence of the Innocence will linger around the spirits of the Pleroma for a short time, as if allowed to disperse in the absence of the creature it was sustaining. There is a mournful weight to its essence, and softly, the Pleroma will hear it speak:

I failed... I have failed you... Again...

The presence is already beginning to fade, but those already touched by the Innocence will feel its power flare up within them, like a new candle lit from one almost burned to its end.

Please... do not despair... continue on... and find the peace I could not give you...

With that it goes silent, disappearing along with its host.

[OOC: Several characters will be receiving PMs regarding this.]

REGENT'S REPRISAL

The protective light of the Sanctifier fades, and the Pleroma will find themselves prematurely awash in a furious Achamoth, their enemies having multiplied from from a mere two dozen Aions to hundreds, if not thousands of Horosians. The military, having been rendered helpless for most of this struggle, are eager to pick up the slack, firing with what offensive magic they hold and alchemy enhanced weaponry. Even civilians, furious and humiliated by what they perceive as Pleroma tricks, will begin to lash out, throwing what improvised weapons they might have and shouting abuse; anything to help destroy these invaders.

The shadows of the city, having been swelling since the beginning of the Sanctifier's fall, will seem to chase the Pleroma through the streets. Like violent ghosts, specters of darkness pursue them, lashing out with intangible claws that feel like shocks of cold torment. Sometime, they may even land small physical blows, like claw marks and bruises left by unseen spirits. These malformed spirits shriek with suffering and discontent, but only Aions seem to perceive them. Those with Tier 2 attunements will have the clearest gaze of ethereal forms, like the wretched, half remembered remains of people and creatures long past.

FROM THE SKIES

As the void swallows Estinien, Seekers & Visionaries of both sects are hit with a series of images flashing through their mind; thick green forests, a tall mountain sitting apart, a golden eye barely concealed by smoke. Red scaled lids close once only to sharply pull back as the eye widens swallows all around it. The vision fades in an instant.

A chorus of unfamiliar roars and screeches echo across the Citadel. Where one dragon once stood, dozens now swarm the air above the gathered Aions. These dragons appear in all sizes and patterns, some with scales hardened like wood or stone while others appear feathered and nearly birdlike. Any Pleroma who have spent time in Greentruth may recognize the shapes as shadows that have passed in the canopy overhead even if they have not crossed the paths of these dragons before. Reinforcements.

A little too late.

The dragons descend upon the Citadel led by a familiar figure; Tehri of the Deep Mists rides atop one of the largest of the dragons as they all come to land on the stony ground at the Pleroma front. They will provide cover for those looking to leave the battlefield and a flight back to Greentruth. If there are Pleroma who are staying to fight longer, a few dragons will wait around the edges until all battles have ceased. They are only dragons, so they could come under fire by the Kenoma should attacks be made.

Tehri stays on the largest dragon as it rears its head above the siege of the ire of the dead. She stands tall atop it, extending her arms as a cool blow envelopes her hands. A rush of cold air pushes forth as a thick mist forms in the courtyard, obscuring vision for all but a few feet in front any person. The Regent's malformed spirits are left confused and without direction, but will attack any Pleroma they do manage to find. The mists linger for several hours after the last Pleroma has fled Achamoth.

WRAP-UP

Returned to their homes of choice, each Aion will be free to recover and carry on with their daily affairs. Word of the assault on Achamoth gradually spreads across Horos, prompting startled reactions its populace. Has the Pleroma truly been so brazen? Had the dragon in the sky truly been as grand as they say? Had the dragon of the wood truly answered in turn? The raid will eventually be a hot topic of discussion in every corner of the continent, though there were few non-Achamite eye witnesses. It can be expected that the details will be exaggerated, understated, and misunderstood wildly.

❖ IMPORTANT NOTES

◆ REGENT'S RESPONSE: After the Pleroma have left the city, the Kenoma will receive a communion from the Regent whether or not their shards are exposed. Their multi-toned voice will express contentment with the outcome of the struggle, explaining that they have successfully captured the Innocence and its host. With this link to its power claimed, they have what they need to end its threat. Kenoma will be welcomed to join them in their throne room to see this done a few days after the battle, but attendance is not mandatory. There will be a short NPC log posted to cover this, though we will warn that the Innocence's 'execution' will be fairly gruesome, so if you have a more uncertain Kenoma whom you don't want to scare off the path, it may be best to not have them attend.

◆ DRAGONS ENGAGED: As the majority of the PVP and PVE finishes up, there are dragon NPCs available to battle against at your discretion. We will not thread these battles, but if any Kenoma would like to try to take out one of the dragons, they can reply below and we will do a mod roll for their success. Any killed dragons may be dealt with as desired in Achamoth. There won't be a Kenoma knock out mechanic for this, unless players specifically want to be mangled by a dragon.

◆ STATE OF ACHAMOTH: Achamoth managed to avoid any irreparable mass destruction as a result of the raid, though there were some 'presumably Pleroma' assaults on civilian infrastructure that will be highly talked about in coming weeks, including the looting of a few houses, attempted arson of a church, and the attempted destruction of a factory. While the Sanctifier was not purposely attacking Achamite civilians, its battle with the Kenoma did result in some casualties among both the military and civilian population, while other soldiers were slain by the Pleroma on the ground. (Or, in one case, one of the Kenoma?) Multiple watchtowers were destroyed by the dragon's throes. In general, Achamoth is furious about this, and more hateful towards the Pleroma than ever.

◆ RECONVENING IN GREENTRUTH: Once back in Greentruth, Tehri will send a communion to all the Pleroma and ask them to attend, if they can, the first Aion Council meeting in early Sekiseri. She encourages all to take the time to heal both physically and mentally in the days to come. The council meeting Tehri is requesting will take place in September. This will be offered as part of a mini-event log where characters will be able to discuss with one another and speak with Tehri directly.

◆ VALLEY OF THE INNOCENT: Any Aions passing through the Innocent's Shrine will notice that, following the Innocence's 'execution', the once lush valley's plant-life is starting to die off in what is clearly a non-seasonal manner. Locals will say that the valley is generally in a state of eternal spring, and this is the first time they've seen it suffer like this. The death of the flora here is not complete or immediate, but it is devastating considering the valley's former state of perfection.

◆ SEKISERI: There will be no game-wide event in September, but there will be some NPC activity of various flavors. Players will be free to plot their own activities as they will.

Comments

[affal]

( when J had first found him, heralded into a teenaged boy's bedroom by desperation pushed through his own blood into an occult ritual that fished from hell's depths one of its archdukes to answer, makoto had been similarly vacuous. sure, the vicious, over-eager, and ravenous side of him that he had been denying for so long had been all too quick to sign away his soul in exchange for the one thing that he had desired most, but when that surge of satisfaction ebbed and the afterglow faded, he had been horrified to see that — nothing changed. even having satisfied his desires once, they still lingered (they might have even intensified), and his overall disillusionment with his mortal life and its place on Earth remained. indecision had followed. he'd drug his heels in completing his contract, or at least until the point that J had proven to him so overwhelmingly that he could only be interested in what would assure the deaths of others that he finally decided he should be done with it. done with his contract, "satisfied," so that he could die as contentedly and as 'purely' as he possibly could.

but that's not how the story had gone, and even in hell, he had struggled for direction. for all of the venomous words that he could hiss and spit of his demon master, there is one thing that he knew he couldn't avoid acknowledging: for every abrasion that the man had lovingly inflicted upon his soul, he had given him purpose. he had given him drive. he had given him determination, to somehow wrest a meaning from all of his pointless suffering, even if the only meaning he could think to find was nestled at the core of J's self, beneath skin and flesh and offal and bones, something that he could hold, crushing, in his hands before consuming it once and for all.

to hell with those that would claim that anger, hatred, and spite weren't some of the most powerful motivators.

he thinks of attacking her in the same way he had attacked the Sanctifier, flying like some sort of divine (or perhaps hellish) arrow, but he is both aware of his own natural toothlessness (figurative, not literal) and how he couldn't possibly call upon the Regent's power again so soon without damning himself once and for all. no, he's not ready for that, and so he instead draws the long fang of pale steel from the sheath at his side and he dives to meet her as she rises toward him. there is something similarly horrible and manic in the demon's soul that recognizes the expression on her face as something close and kin, wrapped in the morbid intimacy that arose from throwing all mortal caution to the wind and bidding one's life against another in a struggle of bitter hatred, endeavored revenge, and the desperation of one hoping to shout into the void and force it to ring with that sound.

they collide with brutal impact, one that resounds metallic in his teeth, rattling his skull and every bone in his body. but he doesn't allow himself to be thrown off by the sudden pain of all his somewhat-healed injuries reactivating once more; his hand flashes like a striking snake to bury sharpened steel into powerful horseflesh, ultimately stymied by a thick knob of bone. he snarls, frustrated, and the trap of his wings closes in around her, the talon studding every bony digit trying to gain purchase in flesh past studded leather armor, yearning for injury and pain that would be proof permanent that he had made some sort of mark —

even though she's already injured and half-blinded, hayame is so strong. strong in her body and just as strong in her spirit, revitalized with a typhoon of anger that rivaled the demon that attempted to grapple with her as if they were cut from the same type of cloth. but they weren't. in a sickening moment of vertigo, he is suddenly thrust back to his first meeting with kieran; the other demon had been physically overwhelming, manhandling him into a position he had been utterly powerless to contend with. if it hadn't been for J's intervention, there'd be no telling what might have happened, but... J isn't here to save him this time. this time, he can only struggle in vain as the woman's powerful arms wrap around his whiplike form in a crushing, debilitating embrace before she rears up in a long, agonizing moment of weight shifting in inertia before she brings him down on the stone surface of the rooftop. he wishes he could cry out — something like that would be more dignified than the tortured wheezing sound that escapes him as every ounce of air is forced out of his lungs, bones bruising, cracking, and breaking; there's something dangerously wet in the breath that he finally manages to urge back into his lungs, but he can't think about that. he can't think about any of it, about how his body's instinct is to give out in the face of such overwhelming pain, but the power of his Enmity causes a sudden surge of strength to carry him forward just a bit more, animated by the bitter determination of the underdog that craved a last stand even if there was no guarantee anything would come of it.

as close as she is, she would be able to feel it: as the injury is inflicted to his body, so too does a surge of strength seem to rush in to meet it, shoring up some shortcomings in order to try to give him what he would need to go down swinging. his eyes refocus on her face, and his lips part to bare sharp teeth smeared with blood — he drops his blade (useless), and instead reaches out to sink two clawed hands into her shoulders, putting every ounce of his increased physical power to try to force her back. he can tell within a second or two that he won't be able to force her entirely off of him — two Firebrands beneath the Firaseri moon, they are an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, but he at least wanted to feel her flesh tear beneath his hands, hot with fast, angry blood; he wanted to see in her eyes at least a shred of surprise and recognition that a creature like him could begin to contend with her natural strength. in the heat of the moment, he can't seem to think past the next few heartbeats, the next few ragged breaths, especially as it feels like blood continues to fill his lungs. )

[hundredpower]

[Barnaby's powers are useless with no way to escape from the gravity well, so he's lifted up and slammed into the ground, Eustace's rifle slipping loose from its holster on his back and clattering across the ground from the impact. Barnaby barely notices though, letting out an agonised sound as the force of the hit makes the still-healing stab wound in his torso flare up. While his powers give extra resistance to attack, they can't compensate for wounds already there, only try to mend them faster while his power is active.

So he remains doubled over for a moment, clutching his abdomen just below the ribs as he pushes himself onto his hands and knees, glaring at Syrlya.]

Howl's already suffered enough! And yet you... [He coughs up blood, spitting it onto the paving, before getting unsteadily back to his feet.]

[hundredpower]

Barnaby is surprised by the gesture, blinking uncomprehendingly for a moment, before he takes the handkerchief with a sigh, his anger seeming to melt away. He pushes up his glasses to wipe at his eyes, then the rest of his face, before offering the handkerchief back to him.

"Thank you," he says, and means it, now having calmed down somewhat. "...There's something I should show you."

[warmare]

[Sharp steel bites through hide and muscle and nicks into the bone of her shoulder, the force of his dive and their collision enough to drive the blade through the leather layers of her newly commissioned and already blood-stained armor. Not just her blood, either. Some of it is crimson and sticky, half-dried, and some of it glows with the presence of Innocence pleroma, rained down from the skies above. Enough of it glows that Hayame does something she shouldn't.

She hurts herself, too, in slamming her heavy weight down to the cracked roof on top of the writhing, fighting enemy she has pinned to her chest. Her own joints bleed and she leaves skin and dun coat along the broken stone, bruises get their swollen, colorful starts, but she doesn't care. Not when she hears what she wants, gasping, struggling, cracking in the painful and awkward tangle of too many limbs, tail whipping, wings batting, long spine twisting as they scramble for position and dominance. Yet even that provides no surge of relief, no pulse of triumph.

Is this when I wish you an honorable death or a glorious victory? Estinien had smiled slightly, then, in those moments before they stepped through the portal, and said that he wished for the latter. For her as well.

But there is no more of that here, is there?

Though a part of Hayame is surprised that the slight body of her enemy manages to muster that much strength in the fight against her own, perhaps she shouldn't. She half remembers how he summoned the energy to keep fighting in Venera past when she thought he would, how he stood bloodied but determined against Liem before ripping him away... But she hadn't had him in her grip then, her muscular arms tight around his slim body and her fingers twisted in hair and clothes and wings. Even if M's hands grab her own shoulders, if his claws dig in and cause her pain...

Sharp fangs that do not belong to either the human or equine looking parts of her body snap and snarl in his face, one bloody socket and one dark eye fixing him with a look of utter loathing. Any play at civilized, at the elegant and composed warrior she'd always longed to be, has been stripped away, leaving only the raw, consuming anger behind to fill the gaps in her shard where hope had been before despair could take it, reducing her to the animal that could only be fled or put down that she had never let herself be called. Instead of words, a challenge, an insult, or even an accusation... Hayame hauls her head back and then slams her forehead so violently into M's that a new source of blood opens up along her brow and in her mouth where her teeth slice into her own tongue.

But she doesn't stop. If she stops, he will find a way to counter, she will have to face what happens when this is done, and so-

Hayame wrests herself from his clutches in that moment, releases him from the deathly squeeze of ribs coming undone from their mooring and blood filling punctured lungs to seize M's hair in one of her hands... and begin to pound his head into the roof. The demon that she grapples with may have Enmity on his side, but... She had pure, unadulterated rage. And in this case... her hatred might just be stronger than his.]

[aionmods]

Sorry for the delay on this as we see it was sort of time sensitive! The answer is unfortunately not at the moment, though! The spirits are listening to the Regent at the moment. This is potentially something Kenoma characters could learn about and interact with in the future, though!

[subsist]

no worries at all, mods! and thank you for the answer. i'll be keeping an eye out for the opportunity to chase after them one day. 👀💜

[semicharmed]

[ His smile brightens into a beam. Dying honestly wasn't so bad. He remembers searing pain, of course, and the sight of his own mangled body just before his consciousness snuffed out. But was it worse than losing his hand? No.

... Probably not.

At any rate, it's far away from him now. And Paul's approval is immediate, filling him with warmth. ]

Thanks, [ he says. He rakes his fingers through (still damp) hair. ] I'm ... sorry if I worried you. I hope you weren't worried, but you know, if you were.

[subsist]

There are some things that are better left unsaid.

To this day, Kaeya still wonders how things could have been between him and Diluc if he'd never told him the truth of who he was. Would they have still kept their strong bond, sworn not by blood but by their shared circumstances and sacrifices? It wouldn't have mattered to Kaeya if he had to keep lying for the rest of his life — it wouldn't have changed anything, after all, because he's still lying now — if it meant he was able to protect what little shred of happiness he had back when it still existed.

Maybe there would have been a chance that he wouldn't feel as alone as he does.

When Ryunosuke tells him that he's slipping towards total despair, there's little he can do to stop the bitter laugh that escapes him. It lacks mirth, it lacks warmth; it's just as empty as he feels on the inside. The sadness is evident in the way he smiles too, a split-second glimpse of things he'd rather keep hidden. Honesty doesn't come easily to him, if only because there's always a price he has to pay.

"What was your first clue?"

He doesn't wait for Ryunosuke to answer. Instead, all the spikes that manifested around him are sent careening straight for the other man. That's sure to bait out Ryunosuke's shield, but that's exactly why he's charging too, sword raised and ready to shatter whatever defenses the Pleroma will put up against him.

[wavetrain]

Ah--!!

[ Tsunami scrambles to hold onto him before he can fall to the ground, looking down at him in alarm. ]

A-ah, I'll just, I'll just hold onto you, okay? You'll be alright, I'll get you out of here and someone can patch you up, I, I bet. Come on, I'll just...

[ She lifts him back up so that he's positioned against her shoulder, her broad webbed talons splayed across his back to support him. ]

[uproared]

"That's right, I am!" His response has her doubling down, insistent on being taken seriously. "... Not that I'll be doing the tending. A king also knows when to delegate, so I'm leaving that part to you, Selchy."

So generous. So regal. There's a wavering pause in the communion, arrogance warring with practicality... but with the battle not yet over, she feels more inclined to give him the honest assessment of her status that he initially asked for.

"I hate to admit it, but I might have gone overboard against that thing. Just a little. I'd still be more than a match for any Pleroma, but I'll need time to recover my energy, in case something even bigger shows up."

[lachtara]

The absolute look of disgust Emet-Selch responds with speaks volumes. No, he is not taking that handkerchief back after someone has wiped their face on it. He makes a small 'ugh' noise and puts his hand up in silent refusal. Keep it.

"What is it?" What was so important that he needed to see it now?

[locumstudentesquire]

Fittingly, that laugh is every bit as chilling as the ice that Kaeya launches towards him... Maybe even moreso.

He's right that it makes Ryunosuke bring up his shield, though it's a dome this time instead of the bubbles Kaeya is more familiar with. Clearly, he's picked up a few new tricks since they last fought, and he's not going to be so easily knocked off balance this time either.

That said, he's clearly alarmed by Kaeya's dramatic and violent reaction to the comment, and his mind is racing trying to make sense of it.

He has one hand off his crossbow to make a gesture that will help maintain the shield longer, but it's bound to pop after a few hits either way... The recoil effect, once it does pop, should at least knock the Kenoma back a few feet, giving Ryunosuke time to counter... The question is how. Should he shoot him? Try to knock him out with a sleep spell?

He doesn't like either option. He knows it's stupid to be a bleeding heart over a guy who's clearly trying to kill him, but, seeing someone this abjectly miserable... Knowing the Regent is probably preying on his suffering... It makes Ryunosuke so angry, on top of everything else that has happened.

"Call it intuition," Ryunosuke groans, knowing full well that the question was probably rhetorical, his teeth gritted from the strain of keeping the shield up. In a split second decision, he flicks his hand and banishes the shield while Kaeya is on the backswing with his sword, bringing the plated front of his crossbow up in time to block the next hit instead. He pushes up with it, using brute strength to try and knock Kaeya off his stance instead; he actually has some strength to throw around now, even if it's not immense by any means, and he intends to make good use of it here.

[tohell]

Hello again, Mods!

This directly ties into the Mod response to Hayame's actions above, so I'm sliding it here. With the Innocent's death, are the anti-scrying powers in play over the forest bordering the Valley of the Innocent no longer functioning?

Thank you!

[subsist]

The new form of Ryunosuke's shield doesn't bother him all that much. It's something he'll take note of because this means there will be no chances of repeating the hamster ball incident from before. Still, this also means stabbing the other Aion in the back is a lot easier if he keeps opting for this shield, so — he keeps this in mind. What does catch him off-guard, in the end, is when the shield all but vanishes.

His blade clashes the crossbow, starry eye visibly widening to make his surprise visible and obvious. The fact that there's strength backing up the force of Ryunosuke's push earns a smirk from the former knight, but it's hard to tell whether or not that's a good thing. Maybe it looks close enough to someone feeling proud of him.

"So you learned how to fight back," he muses, almost absently. Just to reward Ryunosuke for a decent attempt, he allows himself to be forced backwards, rebalancing himself while he jumps a few steps away. "That's good."

His retaliation comes differently this time around. Instead of charging right at the other again, he stabs his sword into the ground and allows it to be the originating point of several frozen spikes shooting up from the concrete. They're rapidly approaching the spot where Ryunosuke is standing, and if he isn't fast enough, it'll stab him from underneath.

(It won't be a pretty sight.)

[chronosynthesis]

[Whatever Barnaby says is ultimatley lost on Syrlya. He's dizzy, and focusing desperately on just a way to survive.

--The gun. He lifts his head, narrowing his eyes to focus on the ground behind Barnaby. Just--if he can just pull together a little more magic...

He teleports, still hunched over the ground as he's behind Barnaby in a flash. He lunges for the weapon with his left hand, dragging it as he staggers to his knees. He a heavy breath, he shifts his hand to put the finger on the trigger and lifts it up with a shaky arm. His gaze tracks Barnaby as he stands up, and purple light swirls in concentration around the end of the barrel.

As it fires, it isn't from Syrlya pulling the trigger. It's raw magic that shoots forward just as fast as a bullet. The actual strike of it won't puncture, it won't even bruise, but the magic creates an echo of pain as if he had been struck with the force to daze him.

It also still causes a pushback in the rifle, the force causing Syrlya to twist and topple back to the ground as it jerks back and dislocates his shoulder.

Well, ow. But it's enough time to stop Barnaby from turning around as Syrlya holds his breath and draws on all of his waning strength to pull a veil of invisibility around himself.]

[chronosynthesis]

[Ah?

His focus returns slowly, but not completely. Tsunami is... speaking. He can hear worry.

He takes a sharp breath, but before he can respond she has him slung back against her shoulder.]

[lachtara]

The entirety of this dialogue makes him give a glare look to no one in particular. There are so many quibbles with the entirety of what she's said. Perhaps that reflects back in his following statement - which addresses none of her concerns.

"Emet-Selch."

It's said flatly and then he continues before dwelling.

"If you would aim to hinder their retreat, look to the northern gate outside the central square. That is where many Pleroma will likely seek to depart from Achamoth." He continues. "If you would seek to recover first, there is a building to the North of the square that is relatively out of harm's way. It has several exits in case you find yourself followed."

[uproared]

Smoothly ignoring his correction, she chuckles.

"Damn, you've got a whole freakin' map in that head of yours! Must be crowded!"

Because that's how memory works.

"I'll take a break, then head over to cut them off. Stay out of trouble, alright?"

[bythelight]

"I don't want to sleep until I've done something about our injuries," he says. He doesn't want to leave them in their current state longer than necessary. If he rolled in his sleep he's at risk of doing worse damage, too.

All in all, not a brilliant idea.

"I can make it back, we could meet up back at our accommodation. Or I can accompany you, if you have concerns."

Either about buying the right things, or about leaving Anduin to his fate briefly.

[vivificantem]

[Paul isn't sure what to think about the fact that it was Amos who did this to her; his first instinct, however, is to believe them when they said there was something deeply wrong with him mentally. There would have had to have been, for him to have done this to one of their own; he doesn't know Amos well in the scheme of things but he feels that he knows more than enough to know that this isn't within the normal scope of things he would be willing to do. So Paul will keep quiet on that front; he has thoughts, surely, but they can wait to be dealt with later, after all of this is over, and he just focuses his attention on Misa.]

She'll be all right. [The healing is faster nowadays, now that he's gotten a better hold on it, now that he knows what to do with larger injuries; his tone isn't light, but it's gentler than it would be if the situation were more immediately dire.] It might take a little while after I'm done with this for a full recovery, but don't worry, I'm not going to let anyone die.

[He glances over at Gen after Kaeya's suggestion, though.]

I can take care of you, too, once this is done with. You all right with that?

[vivificantem]

You died. I think I'd be more concerned if I weren't worried...?

[Granted, that's not confirmation of whether he actually was or not, but that hardly matters at the moment. It's confirmation enough of something, at any rate. He's getting good at that sort of thing.]

I would prefer it if you didn't make that a continual, repeated experience? But I think I can forgive you this time.

[lachtara]

"The same could be said to you." The connection between them is sharply cut off. Now that he had the location where she would likely be -

he will be heading to the exact location he'd given her specifically to heal her first. Sheerly out of petty spite.

[semicharmed]

[ Matt doesn't really feel like he died. Then again, he doesn't know what dying is supposed to feel like. All he can say for sure is that he woke up having changed. Seeing more. Arguably, that's the very definition of being born again.

So he just chuckles. ]

I'm gonna do my best, [ he assures Paul. ] Hell, I might even start trying to ... learn combat that isn't just setting people on fire.

[vivificantem]

You set someone on fire.

[Matt. Why.]

[semicharmed]

So did you! [ Matt protests. ]