Re: Intense Struggle! (Round 5 - Cervaled Fall)
07-23-2011, 07:19 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by SleepingOrange.
As Aeon had been killed and tossed aside like garbage, his grip had predictably loosened on the sword he'd been so unable to use effectively. It skittered across the coating of slush and water that coated the metallic floor, well away from anyone who might have wanted to use it. The newly-ensorcelled corpse lunged for the defenseless nun; her mind raced and her heart would have pounded had she been anyone else, and she grabbed the only thing to hand.
The cane portion of her swordstick came up and connected with the side of Aeon's head; a blow with such a light non-weapon would ordinarily have done little to deter such a revenant, but Clara had her own necromantic strength backing the swing. Aeon was knocked off-course and scrambled to stay upright on the detritus of the magical battle that had raged behind him. The old woman took the opportunity to skitter back towards the discarded sword portion of her weapon, raising it threateningly if inexpertly at the slavering corpse of her erstwhile ally.
Aph took advantage of the distraction that came with the resurrection to redouble her efforts against the other two casters. She pressed forward, taking every advantage and leaning heavily on her opponents' depleting mana reserves. As the hems of Konka Rar's robes caught fire for the umpteenth time in only a few minutes, he clacked his jaw loudly and sighed with irritation. "In the name of... Why didn't I just do this in the beginning?"
He raised his arm as though it still clutched a staff, drawing what little magical potential he could still muster to him. With little more fanfare than the single, barked word, he shouted "Blink!" and disappeared. It wasn't much of a teleportation, but a floor upwards was a world away from the hellish uphill battle he'd been embroiled in.
Amethyst was left alone and outflanked. A quick glance at her wrist confirmed there was little left she could do; she shook her head, stoic facade flagging only slightly, and resolved to go out with a desperate gambit. At worst, she'd die, but wouldn't leave anything for that monster to disgustingly commandeer post-mortem. A few adjustments and the running of a little-used script later and Amethyst was shouting "Crystal Form!"; there was a bright flash of light, and the young woman was replaced by a semitransparent crystalline version of herself. Bladed limbs and barbed joints swinging, she barreled towards the aggressive nymph.
Aph was surprised by the turn of events, but not floored and not left without a way to retaliate. With a dramatic sweeping gesture, she sent spikes of ice crawling across the already-slick floor; they hampered the heavy stone figure's movement, and while they failed to knock her over it was a significant enough distraction to allow the cackling pink murderess to fall back slightly and attack again with renewed vigor. Fire and lightning passed harmlessly over and through the crystals that made up Amethyst's new body, so she concentrated on hammering it with enormous chunks and spires of black, unnaturally-hard ice. She was having little success actually damaging the stony bulk, but Amethyst was having even less in moving at all forward; it was clear who would win in time if no intervention was made.
Behind the dueling now-pair, Clara was dancing a nervous waltz with the implacable zombie. Aeon had certainly not been a friend, but he had been an ally and certainly hadn't been a bad person. At least not obviously so. She didn't want to attack his body, possessed by mindless necromancy or not: it wasn't as though she held any illusions about the real Aeon still being in there somewhere; it's hard to maintain those kind of beliefs when one had the magical training and religious indoctrination that Clara possessed. Rather, she hoped that she could simply dispel the zombification if given the chance, then bring Aeon himself back to life. The rituals weren't easy, but it was the least she could do for anyone caught up in the brutality of these monstrous games whose corpse wasn't immediately spirited away. She was actually using her stick as a weapon more than the sword, healfheartedly battering Aeon's slathering body away when it threatened to get too close.
Her attention was drawn by a loud shout of anger from Aph. "Enough of this bullshit!"
She tried to size the situation up quickly without diverting too much focus from avoiding being torn apart. From what she could tell, Amethyst was beginning to crack in places, but was largely unharmed, while Aph was forced to stay back to avoid scything arms of razor-edged crystal. Nothing seemed to be happening that would have warranted such an outburst, even louder and shriller than her typical mid-combat rantings and taunts. It seemed her patience was simply wearing thin.
That suspicion was borne out when she suddenly dove forward, catching Amethyst off-guard; the nymph feinted left, followed by her tentacles whipping in from the right. Suffering punctures and cuts from the barbs and spikes that covered much of Amethyst's crystal form, they nevertheless squeezed tight, binding their victim helplessly. With visible effort, wearing a rictus of pain and rage, Aph whipped her upwards and around, eventually casting her over the railing into the shaft that made up so much of Cervaled Fall. Amethyst's unmoving face was completely unable to form the final scream she so desperately wanted to utter; the only sounds aside from Aph's gloating and Aeon's ravening were a crash as she collided with a wall and a much later, louder shattering as her fall ended on the floor below.
"It's too bad, really. I was hoping I could kill the little bitch up close. That's two meals I've been cheated out of, Clara? I just don't think that's fair, do you?" There was a brief pause in the monologue as the callous nymph took a few moments to cackle, tentacles writhing. "Still, there wasn't much left in that twiggy little shell, and old bones-and-rags probably wasn't ever very impressive to begin with. So, with the appetizers gone, it's time for the entree."
Clara's eyes narrowed and her knuckles whitened further on the hilt of her sword and the shaft of her cane. That was it. Schleier forgive her, but poor Aeon would have to stay dead if she was going to stop this rampaging monster. It was probably for the best, she told herself as she swung; the poor man didn't have much of a life to come back to, and if she understood things correctly he wasn't even truly himself to begin with. She grunted slightly as she forced the blade bodily through the dense meat of the ex-mechanic's shoulder, face contorting into the first true anger she'd shown in probably decades.
The zombie howled as it lost its dominant arm, but it lunged forward again regardless, forcing Clara back yet again. "Oh, showing a little spirit finally are we? Maybe I will have to break your useless old bones myself after all! That's alright, I like it better that way. You just finish butchering poor old what's-his-name and we'll talk."
The furious nun's gaze snapped up to meet the giggling nymph's. "Break my bones? Kill me? Just what in the thirteen mounting hells do you think you can do to me?"
She pointedly dropped both cane and sword, waiting for Aeon to attack again. When the simple corpse obliged, she rammed her right arm forward, palm open. Between the force of the zombie's lunge and the strength lent to Clara by her undead nature, her hand came out of Aeon's back clutching shards of bone and what could only barely be called a heart anymore. She shook her arm, liberating the failing revenant, and snarled. "I died years ago. I spent three days having the life bled out of me. I've spent longer than your entire existence being dead."
Without losing Aph's gaze, she retrieved her weapons. "I could rip my own arm off and beat you to death with it if I wanted, and your pathetic, stolen magic couldn't do more than make me uglier." She began moving slowly towards the hovering psychopath, each step deliberate and loud, a shimmering golden veil forming around her. "Nothing you could ever do would make the slightest difference, because you're weak and you're ignorant."
Aph dithered, hovering slightly backwards, wringing her damaged tentacles. After a few moments, she sputtered "N... No. No, you're bluffing. If you were that invincible, you wouldn't have been such a coward since the beginning. You would have done something instead of biting your lip and worrying."
Without pause, she sent a barrage of ice towards the advancing woman. Those that actually hit their mark impacted harmlessly on the aura Clara had surrounded herself with; her snarl twisted into a furious grin as the shards scattered. "Power is about choice, not slavish devotion, wanton slaughter to appease base urges, or accumulation of mana. Power is something you lack, you little pink blip."
The unblinking receipt of the icicles combined with Clara's now thoroughly bloodied arm lent quite a bit of credence to her tirade. Aph hovered farther back, internal voices screaming at each other and at her, tentacles furious and frightened and confused. To Clara's great relief, she seemed to be buying it. The timid old woman wasn't sure how much longer she could maintain this facade of untouchable might, and she only hoped the indecision it was buying would give her time for one good attack. And if that wasn't sufficient, well... Aph would probably learn firsthand exactly how much bluffing was being done.
Both women blinked at once, literally and figuratively. Waves of mana suppression were washing over them both, and computerized voices shouted "RETURN TO YOUR CELLS OR FACE DISCIPLINARY ACTION, POTENTIALLY INCLUDING CORRECTIVE, PREVENTATIVE, OR CAPITAL PUNISHMENTS."; robotic guards with reinforced chassises and prominent mana-suppression cores closed in from both sides, weapons raised. Clara's shield wavered and eventually faded; Aph's consciousness did the same, and she hit the floor before she could finish the string of curses she'd opened her mouth to spew.
As Aeon had been killed and tossed aside like garbage, his grip had predictably loosened on the sword he'd been so unable to use effectively. It skittered across the coating of slush and water that coated the metallic floor, well away from anyone who might have wanted to use it. The newly-ensorcelled corpse lunged for the defenseless nun; her mind raced and her heart would have pounded had she been anyone else, and she grabbed the only thing to hand.
The cane portion of her swordstick came up and connected with the side of Aeon's head; a blow with such a light non-weapon would ordinarily have done little to deter such a revenant, but Clara had her own necromantic strength backing the swing. Aeon was knocked off-course and scrambled to stay upright on the detritus of the magical battle that had raged behind him. The old woman took the opportunity to skitter back towards the discarded sword portion of her weapon, raising it threateningly if inexpertly at the slavering corpse of her erstwhile ally.
Aph took advantage of the distraction that came with the resurrection to redouble her efforts against the other two casters. She pressed forward, taking every advantage and leaning heavily on her opponents' depleting mana reserves. As the hems of Konka Rar's robes caught fire for the umpteenth time in only a few minutes, he clacked his jaw loudly and sighed with irritation. "In the name of... Why didn't I just do this in the beginning?"
He raised his arm as though it still clutched a staff, drawing what little magical potential he could still muster to him. With little more fanfare than the single, barked word, he shouted "Blink!" and disappeared. It wasn't much of a teleportation, but a floor upwards was a world away from the hellish uphill battle he'd been embroiled in.
Amethyst was left alone and outflanked. A quick glance at her wrist confirmed there was little left she could do; she shook her head, stoic facade flagging only slightly, and resolved to go out with a desperate gambit. At worst, she'd die, but wouldn't leave anything for that monster to disgustingly commandeer post-mortem. A few adjustments and the running of a little-used script later and Amethyst was shouting "Crystal Form!"; there was a bright flash of light, and the young woman was replaced by a semitransparent crystalline version of herself. Bladed limbs and barbed joints swinging, she barreled towards the aggressive nymph.
Aph was surprised by the turn of events, but not floored and not left without a way to retaliate. With a dramatic sweeping gesture, she sent spikes of ice crawling across the already-slick floor; they hampered the heavy stone figure's movement, and while they failed to knock her over it was a significant enough distraction to allow the cackling pink murderess to fall back slightly and attack again with renewed vigor. Fire and lightning passed harmlessly over and through the crystals that made up Amethyst's new body, so she concentrated on hammering it with enormous chunks and spires of black, unnaturally-hard ice. She was having little success actually damaging the stony bulk, but Amethyst was having even less in moving at all forward; it was clear who would win in time if no intervention was made.
Behind the dueling now-pair, Clara was dancing a nervous waltz with the implacable zombie. Aeon had certainly not been a friend, but he had been an ally and certainly hadn't been a bad person. At least not obviously so. She didn't want to attack his body, possessed by mindless necromancy or not: it wasn't as though she held any illusions about the real Aeon still being in there somewhere; it's hard to maintain those kind of beliefs when one had the magical training and religious indoctrination that Clara possessed. Rather, she hoped that she could simply dispel the zombification if given the chance, then bring Aeon himself back to life. The rituals weren't easy, but it was the least she could do for anyone caught up in the brutality of these monstrous games whose corpse wasn't immediately spirited away. She was actually using her stick as a weapon more than the sword, healfheartedly battering Aeon's slathering body away when it threatened to get too close.
Her attention was drawn by a loud shout of anger from Aph. "Enough of this bullshit!"
She tried to size the situation up quickly without diverting too much focus from avoiding being torn apart. From what she could tell, Amethyst was beginning to crack in places, but was largely unharmed, while Aph was forced to stay back to avoid scything arms of razor-edged crystal. Nothing seemed to be happening that would have warranted such an outburst, even louder and shriller than her typical mid-combat rantings and taunts. It seemed her patience was simply wearing thin.
That suspicion was borne out when she suddenly dove forward, catching Amethyst off-guard; the nymph feinted left, followed by her tentacles whipping in from the right. Suffering punctures and cuts from the barbs and spikes that covered much of Amethyst's crystal form, they nevertheless squeezed tight, binding their victim helplessly. With visible effort, wearing a rictus of pain and rage, Aph whipped her upwards and around, eventually casting her over the railing into the shaft that made up so much of Cervaled Fall. Amethyst's unmoving face was completely unable to form the final scream she so desperately wanted to utter; the only sounds aside from Aph's gloating and Aeon's ravening were a crash as she collided with a wall and a much later, louder shattering as her fall ended on the floor below.
"It's too bad, really. I was hoping I could kill the little bitch up close. That's two meals I've been cheated out of, Clara? I just don't think that's fair, do you?" There was a brief pause in the monologue as the callous nymph took a few moments to cackle, tentacles writhing. "Still, there wasn't much left in that twiggy little shell, and old bones-and-rags probably wasn't ever very impressive to begin with. So, with the appetizers gone, it's time for the entree."
Clara's eyes narrowed and her knuckles whitened further on the hilt of her sword and the shaft of her cane. That was it. Schleier forgive her, but poor Aeon would have to stay dead if she was going to stop this rampaging monster. It was probably for the best, she told herself as she swung; the poor man didn't have much of a life to come back to, and if she understood things correctly he wasn't even truly himself to begin with. She grunted slightly as she forced the blade bodily through the dense meat of the ex-mechanic's shoulder, face contorting into the first true anger she'd shown in probably decades.
The zombie howled as it lost its dominant arm, but it lunged forward again regardless, forcing Clara back yet again. "Oh, showing a little spirit finally are we? Maybe I will have to break your useless old bones myself after all! That's alright, I like it better that way. You just finish butchering poor old what's-his-name and we'll talk."
The furious nun's gaze snapped up to meet the giggling nymph's. "Break my bones? Kill me? Just what in the thirteen mounting hells do you think you can do to me?"
She pointedly dropped both cane and sword, waiting for Aeon to attack again. When the simple corpse obliged, she rammed her right arm forward, palm open. Between the force of the zombie's lunge and the strength lent to Clara by her undead nature, her hand came out of Aeon's back clutching shards of bone and what could only barely be called a heart anymore. She shook her arm, liberating the failing revenant, and snarled. "I died years ago. I spent three days having the life bled out of me. I've spent longer than your entire existence being dead."
Without losing Aph's gaze, she retrieved her weapons. "I could rip my own arm off and beat you to death with it if I wanted, and your pathetic, stolen magic couldn't do more than make me uglier." She began moving slowly towards the hovering psychopath, each step deliberate and loud, a shimmering golden veil forming around her. "Nothing you could ever do would make the slightest difference, because you're weak and you're ignorant."
Aph dithered, hovering slightly backwards, wringing her damaged tentacles. After a few moments, she sputtered "N... No. No, you're bluffing. If you were that invincible, you wouldn't have been such a coward since the beginning. You would have done something instead of biting your lip and worrying."
Without pause, she sent a barrage of ice towards the advancing woman. Those that actually hit their mark impacted harmlessly on the aura Clara had surrounded herself with; her snarl twisted into a furious grin as the shards scattered. "Power is about choice, not slavish devotion, wanton slaughter to appease base urges, or accumulation of mana. Power is something you lack, you little pink blip."
The unblinking receipt of the icicles combined with Clara's now thoroughly bloodied arm lent quite a bit of credence to her tirade. Aph hovered farther back, internal voices screaming at each other and at her, tentacles furious and frightened and confused. To Clara's great relief, she seemed to be buying it. The timid old woman wasn't sure how much longer she could maintain this facade of untouchable might, and she only hoped the indecision it was buying would give her time for one good attack. And if that wasn't sufficient, well... Aph would probably learn firsthand exactly how much bluffing was being done.
Both women blinked at once, literally and figuratively. Waves of mana suppression were washing over them both, and computerized voices shouted "RETURN TO YOUR CELLS OR FACE DISCIPLINARY ACTION, POTENTIALLY INCLUDING CORRECTIVE, PREVENTATIVE, OR CAPITAL PUNISHMENTS."; robotic guards with reinforced chassises and prominent mana-suppression cores closed in from both sides, weapons raised. Clara's shield wavered and eventually faded; Aph's consciousness did the same, and she hit the floor before she could finish the string of curses she'd opened her mouth to spew.