Gates of Hell

GATES OF HELL

The universe is hostile, so impersonal,

Devour to survive... so it is, so it's always been.

We all feed, on tragedy.

It's like blood to a vampire.

Vicariously I, live while the whole world dies.

Much better you than I...

Terrain

General - These ten story gates are all that remains of this once great chapel. Broken pillars and shattered pews still carry open flames and burning embers, despite the rain. Around this once sacred ground lies a seemingly endless Battlefield, though it is divided by what crumbling bits of wall remain, and illuminated by the brilliant moon shining over the gates.

Weapons- None.

Benefits - None.

"It's like a dead zone."

Lazenca looked around at the scenery, or whatever.

"An electronic dead zone, you know? Heard about them on some movie... where things just refuse to work properly. But more than that... this reminds me of Burgundy."

Oh, nostalgia.

If Sunstrike and Lanzenca looked up, they would catch sight of a small slender figure silhouetted against the silvery luminescence of a full moon. The moonlight reflected a wash of silver against gold as it filled Teira's gaze. She felt strangely drawn to it, and so... she had scaled a pillar and was perched on top of it, moon gazing with nothing to hinder her view.

Her world was silent save for the howling hymn of the wind as it called and echoed through the ruins of the great gateway.

"For a bunch of GUARDIANs..." Lazenca shifted the cloak around him a bit overdramatically, turning for the sake of doing so and making it flare out. He didn't do a lot of that, so he may as well as they waited for the gates to open.

"...we do a whole lot of not knowing where that woman is. She's around here, anyway. She would've screamed if something was wrong, so I'm not too worried. We're the only fresh scents around. She probably wants to enter dramatically, at a venue like this." He could smell Teira, but didn't bother actually trying to hunt/track her. Being the kind of person he is that actually looked up while looking around, it was a couple seconds but he finally did spy her. He glanced upon her with calm eyes and slightly pursed lips.

Laz would have to agree with Silver; this place had one of those... dark kinds of beauty. One would have to see chaos and order within the madness, know the darkness and be able to carve a semblance of sense and thoughtfulness from it. However, even with all of this praise... he hadn't been in the tournament past the first round the other two years, so didn't know everything that happened. One tends to forget things that don't happen to you because you're knocked out early.

"When who came to the room?"

-HoH- Judge Wrote:

Ahem.

The strange voice caught Sun's attention, even if the change in atmosphere passed him by.

-HoH- Judge Wrote:

You have all been marked for elimination...!

The voice broke the night.

If Sun had had half a chance to speak, he would have cursed up a storm that would have withered the air. But there was not time enough for the luxury. Both Silver and Laz were within reach of his voice as he straightened, ignoring the twinge in his side.

Elimination time had begun. This year, they're opponent wasn't as clear or straightforward. It seemed that the judges took on they're brutal role once again.

This time, he wasn't alone, however, and people needed to move!

-HoH- Judge Wrote:

He did not leap so much as he gracefully stepped forward off the edge of the gates. His form a blur of black as gravity tugged it to the ground and it impacted the wet soil with nary a bend of the knees.

Come children, enough talk...lets make this worth the wait.

He said, his voice dancing forward like digitized silk across the ears.

Soon followed by his right boot stepping through wreckage as he walked straight toward the awaiting team without reservation or fear. Or more specifically, as he walked directly for Sunstrike. Humming, a barely audible tune, as if this was just a walk in the park.

Would these heroes remain Frozen? Or would this Hound of Hell face the Flame?

Sun could not hear the tune, he needed to focus.

"Laz swift FLANK!"

It was a sharp bark of a command, leaving which flank up to whatever instincts Laz called his own...

"Silver Front and Center!"

...and he suddenly gripped Silver by the collar, thrusting the younger man in the direction of the oncoming eliminator. Not to sacrifice, but to give him time to manoeuvre.

A few steps back, he still couldn't see Teira, but he knew what would be heard even above the dampening sounds of the courtyard. A thumb and a forefinger pressed to his mouth, carrying a shrill whistle. It was a desperate sound, that sent shivers up any creatures spines.

His captain was intelligent, but more then that, she had the advantage of not being within sight. Sun could only hope all three of the other members of Frozen Flame would take hold of their hearts and they're strength under the hasty orders.

Oh yeah, thanks Mr. Eliminator for not just throwing a large brimstone rock at Lazenca's head while he was going lolwut.

"Oh. Theeeeeeem."

At the clearing of the throat and declaration of intent, he knew what the score was. Though he wasn't part of the tourney this far before, he'd kept up enough to know kindasorta how it worked. The point was, just win.

His eyes went to Sunstrike, blinking as he gave orders though Lazenca was VC. Rather than respond with words, Laz grinned and peeled off to the right, giving the Eliminator a respectable berth. Such space to do things was going to drop soon, but this guy had guts taking them all on. And he had some pretty sweet armor... which was probably on too tight, which would be another acceptable reason or excuse for why he'd decided to take all of Frozen Flame on at once.

Eventually, Lazenca would be examining this armor from the back, putting his left leg back while dropping the same arm under the cloak, and making horizontal the right arm.

Ready 2 Rokk.

Seriously? Srsly?

"We're all in this."

He was even willing to let Sunstrike confirm or deny this claim, pretty sure that unless Sun acknowledged the other two men as able to perform, flags were going to be thrown making this a very short affair. So with this, Lazenca stood his stance, looking over the shoulders of both Cerberus and Silver.

"Just give the word."

Lazenca blinked. The option was there, but he didn't think it'd actually be taken. "Are you sure?" He'd heard nothing but horror stories about the Eliminators. But the two were already squaring off, and the Challenged had made clear the terms he would accept.

Eyes narrowed as he dropped his Draw Ready stance.

You'd better know what you're doing...

The vibrations echoed through both Sun's arms, and made old memories hurt at the joints. An ache that wasn't about to go away.

Fiery eye's seemed to be opened for the first time in recognition, even though Sun had been awake. He looked at Wulf in sheer panic for a second, realizing he'd misjudged again, and wouldn't have time to rethink.

"Maxi-"

KATHUNK!

mos. A muffled shout as surprise led to near suffocation in blackness.

Maximos Wrote:

...the first myth of reality. What you know the best, you observe the least.

can'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'tbreathe

He couldn't move as his brain went into overdrive on panic and adrenaline. The last time they'd met like this, it hadn't been exactly a win win situation, and he'd been daft enough to tell people to stay back?!

The truth was Sun knew what he was doing when he hadn't recognized who he was fighting. Now that he knew...the Destroyer had the advantage once again.

The salamander hadn't known, , that the creature he'd fought before could form words, just that it had ploughed through the stadium in hunger. Maximos had said it was gone within him. Now he'd met the cause, in his dreams, and understood the reality, that the creature could never die.

Probably a little too late.

What you know best, you observe least, god's damnit, Maximos, you poor b*****d. And it's all my fault, your paying the price for my actions.

Most creatures with that kind of guilt complex would be happy to fall over and die at that point, but it just pissed Sunstrike off.

When...

The quarter staff smacked against the forearm horizontally and hauled Sun's frame upwards as he grabbed both ends, pulling his legs to himself. There was a popping sound as some of the less forgiving bandages ripped and probably a few of those careful stitches, as he straightened himself out to plant both legs hard, metal and flesh, into where the arm connected to the rest of the his opponents body.

the hells

Once connected, and if he wasn't dropped, and or planted into the ground, he'd start the tedious task of ripping his face out from that grip, opening rents where the knife like fingers had tried to be so careful as the man jerked backwards.

do I

Sun knew he didn't have a lot of options left, the only hope was that Teira wouldn't be tamed and that he was enough distraction to focus that hunger.

GET A BREAK?!

{( Dimmu Borgir - Fear and Wonder )}

Lazenca grinned. He, and neither of these people, could make up their minds. Laz wanted to go in, didn't mind going in, but Cerberus wanted Sunstrike. And Sun actually said okay. In Laz's book, that was good enough reason to let it happen. It wasn't an issue of not taking one's fate in one's own hand, it was an issue of faith.

The reasons for joining this team were shaky, because he had to. But being around them... even though they hadn't had much in the way of a team dinner outside of the meeting with Mr. Decker, just being in the same area and observing for so long had built a quiet relationship. Even at his age, Lazenca was learning and maturing.

He'd learned to trust his teammates. If Sunstrike wanted to fight, if he believed he could take on the guardian of Hell, if the salamander wanted to prove something and let things ride on his shoulders... then by Daraku, it was going to happen like that. That Cerberus believed himself a great warrior who was going to take Sun out, didn't matter. Such attitudes came a dime a dozen, and a nickel on Sundays.

However, when the mask came off and the Hound stepped into the firelight, the script was flipped.

Don't go White.

Don't go White.

Don't go White.

Don't you dare go White.

The past was forgiven, but not forgotten. Blame the armor and scents for masking Maximos, the only person Lazenca would hesitate to fight. Twice (if Battle Royale was being counted) did they square off, and twice did it take the power of a demi-god to keep him alive.

The hotel.

Upon recognition, it was painted on his face. Confusion, and plenty of wtfamidoinghere. Or we can call it what it was... that was fear.

Are you going to back down?

A deep breath, as eyes closed and reopened.

Start from Xero.

Draw Ready stance was retaken, even as the other two were already getting into it. He was a little slow uptake, but he was there. It was a bit too sappy for Lazenca to actually acknowledge, but he belonged in this fight with the other people who'd keep him going.

Congratulations, Shinji.

What?

...Nevermind.

{( Derek Oren, Jeremy Robson - Cantata for Dancing: I. Mors ego sum mortis [Final Fantasy VI] )}

Have you ever seen horror, pain, just waltzing over the horizon and know that it was here for you. That feeling of hopelessness swelling in your gut, tugging all your organs down to the ground as you fully realize "this is it". This wont kill you, but you begs the gods it would.

That was the feeling Sunstrike may get at exactly this moment. You see the moment his face was grabbed, Sun had handed the Hound of Hell before him precisely what he had wanted.

The Twilight Gauntlet, sunk its razor sharp digits into the godlings face. Its finger tips found homes in Sun's cheeks, and would likely leave four very nasty cuts. Four....Four because the index finger had other plans.

Sun had a front row seat as that finger rose, full of purpose. He would be able to see the armor itself slither and twist, an hear the pop of bone and muscle, as the index finger perfectly aligned itself with his eye. His eye. The good one. The real one. It was agonizing, and yet also smooth as if the finger was meant to move in such a way.

Then, like a viper lashing forward at its prey the finger shot forward. It was a long finger, Maximos had fairly large hands, and the twisted knife edges only made it worse. Teira was sneaky. She was quick. But quick enough to approach before a finger already on the mans face, moved a few inches?

Not so.

Should Sun not mount a defense, it would be no sooner than the eye was breached that Teira would descend. The pommel of he sword smashed clean into the elbow of the cursed limb. A dry echoing pop would resound from the impact point as the elbow was dislocated. And in the same part, slithering bands of armor seemed to squeeze and lock the limb in place.

But the elbow bent. This mean that while Sun's eye might have been just impaled the sudden bend to the extended finger would force the finger...and attached eye backwards with...all the force of Teira's descent and all the might she could muster. Like a lever.

In other words, it would rip the eye clean from it socket.

And Sun, would be released.

Unless Teira could see behind her the events would quite possibly remain a mystery. As it had happened out of normal viewing range.

Around the shadowy man, figures prepared to move. Others moved in preparation, but his world was here. He knew he was recognized, he tasted fear in the air. Laz might feel the air around him thicken just a bit with the weight of darkness falling deeper. It was nothing to effect his performance in the least, except to announce in a more obvious way "I feel that". Right here, especially as the elven beauty gave him a peck. She'd hear a giggle in the second that she backed up.

That tickled...did your just jump?

She would pull back to find something different. Entirely wrong. A grin unlike anything her brother had ever made in all there history together. In a swath of black, just beyond her peripheral vision the eye would vanish, leaving only a tuft of black, such a simple device was easy to send away.

Mmm...a kiss after so very long...I'd forgotten...

Of course, imouto-chan!

It sounded just like her brother, but not. Smoother, more suave, evena bit greasier, and yet more blissfully innocently cheerful.

Teira had made two mistakes.

Maximos had not once, ever, referred to Sunstrike, as Sunny. Sun, yes, even Sunny-puff. But never Sunny.

And secondly...while not openly advertised...her brother did not speak Japanese.

If she was not already attacking, Maximos was. His left hand shot forward, grabbing her right, while his right moved to grab her left. Aiming to effectively pin her arms at her side. Maximos was always the stronger of the two, and she of all people knew what that arm was capable of. Only in sparring there were always limitations. Pausations, breathers, of a sort, in the understanding that these existed because of there relationship. He twisted, his right arm, with its supernatural strength lead the assault, as he immediately pivoted to the right.

Too long...

With a wet smack he aimed to slam her back into a slab of broken wall which jutted from the wet mud beneath them. Enough to sting, not enough to crack her.

...I think I'll have another.

Then without giving her a moment to settle into shock or surprise, he moved in for the attack. Breaching all manners of personal space to press his lips against hers...not warmly, but even mistakenly. But passionately, deeply, and all together gracefully. Like to a long lost lover. The Dark God was a sensualist in the worst degree, he loved and savored every second he was able to experience, existence in any form. It was enough to make anyone who might watch this blush or scream.

Your going to hate yourself for loving that when you wake up...

For just a few seconds, he was like a statue. Unmoving, with an unwavering gaze ahead. Already, the brutality had started and Sun had lost an eye.

So from behind, Lazenca spread his arms in the cross pattern. The armor would have to come off, and at a 3x charge, Fangs of the Arctic Wulf should do well in testing the armor up at the shoulders. He could go full charge if he had to, make the constantly spinning and drilling attack harder and longer, applying flesh/bone/stone/wood/metal tearing power on one point. And hopefully, Sun's throw was under his own or he might actually get the eye torn up in the drillpoint blender.

Whether or not Cerberus (for the sake of not constantly switching names) turned, FotAW was slated to hit. And even in the odd circumstance that he dodged it, Lazenca was still low to the ground as per the usual draw motion, and sprinting in hard.

Devotion...

He said, with a wet voice. Teira had an uneven chunk of her brother in her mouth. It was wet, and tasted sweetly of iron and tea. What it was exactly, was a mystery shrouded in the crimson that poured from Maximos' mouth as Nocturne spoke.

She'll never forgive you...

So very close she would be able to see, to feel the lurch rise through Maximos' form as he knee reverberated against his breastplate. She had fought him a thousand times, she knew his reactions. This was where Maximos leaned forward and coughed, or hacked. He didnt, it rose. The action hung, as if something chocked it off. His breath caught for a moment, his skin pinkened, and then that smooth grin returned. He moved forward, forced by her thrust. But he was seized, caught.

But not before ribbons of black tore forward, pouring over his shoulders, tearing around his waist. Leading each ribbon was a wide, sickly, ethereal hand black hand. From the shadows that once seethed in his armor, had come arms to made of seething shadows.

...the second myth of reality, the faithful...

The force of their bursting freedom, tossed Maximos' hapless from forward, eeper into her knee. The arms reached for the elf, grasping at her arms, her waist, free bits of clothes, the folds and openings of her attire, aiming to secure her arms, pin her wings, rob her of a sense of fresh air. It was a stealing a securing, choking, violating grip.

She'll never forget...MONSTER!

Teira's sword, in all of its might had dug a trench into the armor plate over his shoulder, another swing would have destroyed the metal, but the sword was sent to the ground with a clang.

The shadow limbs, proceeded by Maximos' left and right arms lifted Teira from the ground. If she kicked no, there were no real joints in range. His face sinister, red streaks seeping down his neck and staining the armor a deep crimson. His reflection cast in the murky puddles around him.

...are most hurt by the objects of their faith.

This is who you are...can you taste their fear?

He immediately jerked the side, arms making the shove all the more potent. As he slammed her into...

Quote: ...the constantly spinning and drilling attack harder and longer, applying flesh/bone/stone/wood/metal tearing power on one point...

...Lazenca. Teira would be smashed into the oncoming drill as a sickly psychotic laugh filled the air. He would hold her there, against its motion unless the motion stopped, or she was given a chance to meet the eyes of her brother as they expressed boundless pleasure, at her increasingly deepening pain. As her back was being slammed first, one could only imagine how her wings would fair against an attack meant to shred her armor.

And then he would release her. Be it the force of suddenly impacting Lazenca. Or the toss of the Twilight Gauntlet and a myriad of shadowy limbs, he would shove Teira back and away and in the same motion he would pivot on his ankle to face Sunstrike. Those two would have to sort amongst themselves the effects of wings and face, and blood and bone. Meanwhile, he had other business to attend to.

Now there's no need to be rude Sunny...friends share, dont they?!

He'll never be the same...He'll hate...Or I'll crush him...

He would say, slipping a hand through his hair, spreading streaks of crimson across his blue spiked locks. His right hand hung low, his fingers twitching, swarms of black swirling between them as he looked at the fallen godling. A bloody, pink grin and red grin across his face.

Do you think they know how broken this body is? So much delicious pain...

Look at you in the mud, I only want...

His right arm suddenly shot up, his fingers grasping at the sky viciously, as if trying to choke the moon. Streaks of black seeping between his bloody digits like sand. His myriads of excess limbs scattered away in a thousand different directions.

Do you think they care? It wont stop them.

...to lift you, where you belong!

The shadows limbs swirled and reforged themselves around the fallen red head. It was night, it was raining, the dark had surrounded at all sides. And at the sharp motion of Maximos' hand, Nocturne sent them skywards. Ribbon after ribbon swirling on each other to make a single form. Sun would see a massive hand rise from the ground beneath him. Its fingers piercing the mud, its palm, a dozen feel in diameter. It would rocket into the air, nearly 20ft as its fingers closed and it aimed to squeeze the poor broken man.

Laughter. Laughter filled the air, booming like thunder.

Ha ha ha! Dont be so depressed! This is the greatest night of your life!

"Nii-chan..."

Her words were coloured with sorrow even as she watched her brother's body fight against the one possessing it. Watched as Maximos' unvoiced disgust and horror tried fought to be expressed, given physical form as his body went through the motions of retching--- but nothing. That phony smile painted itself on his features as this imposter put her brother 'back in line' regaining his composure.

She felt the the chilling touch of the many hands of twilight, creep across her body.

Every finger, of every hand.... touching.... violating... trailing horror across her skin.

"b*****d..."

She would spit it back at him, the mouthful of blood and thicker things exploding in a spray of inky black, mingled with crimson and squidgey globs of flesh in his face, clearing her mouth and wishing she could rid it of the taste of him as easily. Angry eyes pierced his mismatched ones,

"Who the hell do you think you are?---

--- Masquarading as my Nii-chan? I'll NEVER forgive you!"

Her eyes burned with anger and unshed tears. She would not cry, not here-- not like this. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"HRRRRKK!"

His hands tightened on her arms as he lifted her up, leaving her feet dangling off the ground. Normally this wouldn't be too bad, but her weight hung like a painful force on her dislocated left shoulder, sending a reawakened burning sensation through the limb and her shoulder.

He yanked her to the side painfully. Her arms were pinned, she had no way to make him let go, her wings weren't out so she couldn't try and batter his hands, even the un-cursed one, away. All she had was her tail--

The appendage snaked forth, seeking a purchase on his left arm. The metalic spikes of the tail spine would screech against the protective blackened plates of her foe's armour, wrapping around his forearm. With a sharp yank, she would try and yank him inwards however slightly, but her focus was to haul her body further to her right as she strained against his hold and right into---

'What the--?!!'

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

There was a fleeting second of freezing air and then Fangs of the Arctic Wulf tore through her shoulder. Her backless breastplate leaving her shoulder blades completely unprotected and even the simple pauldron-esque plates only covered the tops of her shoulders and upper outside of her arms. There was nothing to protect the limb from this brutal case of friendly fire.

Her world went white as Lazenca's attack bore through the socket, rending and tearing muscle and ligaments as the drill-like blast left a gaping hole where shoulder had been, splattering inky black against the eliminator much like the splatter from a gun-shot wound.

There was a slight hope that not having met much resistance, the attack, although weakened and having been mostly absorbed by Teira's now missing shoulder-- might strike against their enemy yet. Having pulled her to the side, and her trying to yank herself even further, as well as him having lifted her off the ground... the difference in their heights would hopefully find any remnants of the attack aligned with the imposter's own left shoulder--- where Teira's sword had weakened the armour.

Such a thing would remain to be seen however, as she was hurled... no... discarded, half blind with pain, her tail releasing his arm--

• SPLASHSSSKKK!-

She landed in a muddy puddle as her teammate dodged her and skidded along the slick stones.

For a second, Teira's eyes rolled into the back of her head as she groaned. The left arm hung limply at her side, barely attached by a few shadowy sinews.

Her vision blurred further as she couldn't hold back tears any longer. They spilled scalding down her cheeks, mingling with blood and dirt in muddy rivulets.

"I can't--- ughn!--- give up-- n-not hrrrnnn, like this---"

She rolled onto her stomach, using her good arm to half crawl, half pull her body forward onto her knees. Shaking, soaking wet, her bangs plastered to her dirty face.

"---not w-when-- I know that---" The left arm lolled uselessly at her side as splintered fragments of what used to be her shoulder floated pointlessly in the gaping void of the socket... like scattered pieces of a puzzle.

"--- the pain I'm in -- is NOTHING compared to-- ughn, what YOU are feeling---"

Panting in pain, she would stagger to her feet defiantly

'You aren't alone anymore--'

"--NII-CHAN!"

Lady Sierra Wrote:

I'll NEVER forgive you!"

I told you...

Maximos only seemed to smile, blood beginning to dry and stain his pale skin from cheek to cheek. He couldnt be bothered to wipe it away, no blood red seemed more his color. Blood red and a dark deep indigo which seemed to be the exact collar of the sparks idly jumping up and down his arm.

Her tail spines most definitely found a new home. The bits of sharp bone scraped trenches in the showpiece arm guards, a shrill cry of metal being torn filled the air, followed by a wet give. As Maximos' skin was bit by the spines.

They held so very tight. Beads of red would soon be swelling around the small puncture holes, and soon after those beads would come ribbons of black, to hold the limb in place.

You wont fall so easily. I wont LET you!

Teira's scream filled the air like a sanguine melody only such a beautiful elven voice could produce. He laughed, as the scream echoed through the shadows, tearing the dead and silent battleground asunder. A symphony most gorgeous. It had beat, it had rhythm, it had emotion. And it had Maximos' messy red tongue seeping out to lick blood from the side of his face, like chocolate syrup. A show? Snacks?

What more could a man ask for?

Sure a few lashes escaped and shattered the shoulder piece. And sure, deep inlets wound soon be puckering front from Maximos' left shoulder. But none of that mattered. Pain was a sensation all its own. Nocturne loved it as much as all the others.

But the sight, the image of Teira in agony would be forever etched on the mind of the Shadow, and the voice of his beloved sister screaming so horrifically would replay in his mind forevermore.

But they will...I'll BREAK them all.

Still...she was discarded. Her tail acting to literally unzip Maximos' left arm, as it shredded bits of metal on its escape, ribbons only barely containing the stream of red. His head hadnt even the time to turn away.

Quote: Teira was a much more unwieldy weapon, slower to be thrown than a limb. Her body was seen coming to him and with a juke to the left, he managed to barely avoid her. The rush had to continue, though... Cerberus was being given way too much breathing room. Cerberus was very likely not turning away to look at Sun...

No, not for a second or two longer. You see Lazenca had just barely missed Teira. And Nocturne was looking directly at the broken elf. We will not touch the difficulty found in trying to hide in the dark, in the night against the creator of Shadow's...but despite all of that. He could clearly see Lazenca coming and Teira going.

Quote: A flying knee. It hurt a lot worse than it sounded.

Yes. Yes it would. Perhaps Lazenca did not understand what he was charging so bravely into.

This arm was powerful.

Quote: Crepusculum Macies | Twilight Gauntlet - Once awakened, the arm forges a black gauntlet around Maximos' right arm composed of the same mysterious metal as his cursed bones. The small hands seen lashing out, each lay down around the limb, squishing the sleeve and creating the piece of armor. The gauntlet is armed with talon-like fingers, and infused with superhuman strength. Though only in the one arm. And only when motivated as such. Maximos while in total may only be able to life 300lbs, can lift up to 2000lbs with his right arm alone.

It was a monster in and of itself. Like a frenzied shark, or enraged bear. It hungered on its own. It craved on its own. And those fingers while very hand like were a maw, all by themselves. Five gaping fangs craving red meat...

Lazenca's leg snapped forward. His knee primed for striking. And Nocturne, with a god playing in the water to his side, and an elf soaring away had all the time in the world to watch him. The Twilight Gauntlet reached directly out, and with a metal on flesh, smack it landed on his knee. Knife-like fingers still draping around the joint.

Lazenca could try and reach for Maximos' shoulder. But he would have to reach over his own knee, and outreach Maximos' arm. And the Shadow was the taller man of the two. It was impossible. With all the strength of the cursed limb, it simply stopped Lazenca...cold. He wouldnt even be given the chance for Inertia to calm so gravity could take him.

Bad dog.

The voice fell limply. His face seemed sorely disappointed. And the hand crunched shut. Could Lazenca take quite literally a ton of weight focused on only one knee? Were his bones so intensely strong? If they were it would surely be by supernatural assistance....

Quote: Curo Ingurgito | Mana Gorge - Being of a beastly nature the Manus hungers for constant sustenance. While its preferred prey is life force it is able to feast on other forms of energy. Any enchanted item placed in the Manus' unholy grip will find itself temporarily inert. Any purely magical being in its grasp will find its energies slowly drained, in the same manner and time table as the Soul Taker. Likewise, if the arm is directly exposed into a supernatural or magical effect the arm may devour the oncoming effect entirely, adding its energy to the Manus' own. If its owner can survive said attack. The arm is unable to absorb a second attack until the energy of the first has been given function. If the energy is placed into an attack, that attack exhibits the same force and destructive potential of the devoured attack plus the arm's base strength. This form of counter attack may not be used while practicing the Gentleman's Fist.

...Assistance it would be utterly denied. There would be no magics to save this knee from eliminations. Nothing but bone, and crushing steel. And in the moment he felt the bones shatter into un-usable bits he would immediately thrown Lazenca backwards merciless might. Before the pain even really had time to register.

Laz was a big guy. A strong guy. But was he 2000lbs of big? No, not really. And in said grip he would not be becoming anything of the sort. Meaning he would likely fly far...and hard, into the burning pile of pews that was about 10ft behind him.

Sit.

It wasnt nearly fatal. The wood was soggy and old, the fires were relatively young. 'Of course he may have trouble standing to exit the flames...But Nocturne didnt care. And he would turn back to Sunstrike.

Quote: Now there's no need to be rude Sunny...friends share, dont they?!

Quote: "They certainly do...it's too bad you're not giving me much in return, strawberries are nice and all...but, I'm a man of simple pleasures."

They were gods after all. All this mortal business was supposed to be behind and beneath them while they lorded over creation, usually making a grand mess of things. Or something to that effect, Nocturne was a student of the old ways.

Come now Sunny! You get a glorious performance every time you lay your head to rest!

He laughed, his head cocking back, his back arching, his arms falling limp at either side as his voice boomed, fired straight up at the moon. Pure honest laughter was hard to come by. So was such a good time!

I see why you like him, he's worth every second!

Quote: "It's just jealousy, I don't feel pretty enough for you any moooore-WHOA!."

Nocturne hadnt felt around inside the massive hand, its contents didnt really matter. He was busy laughing. Too much enjoyment to focus on the details.

You'll look gorgeous! I'll give you another eye,I'll even design it myself!

The hand began to unravel, as if it was covered with a armada of bandages which had simultaneous and suddenly began to come loose. Only in the case of poor Sunstrike these were not infact bandages but arms, the many arms that had comprised the hand, now fell loose. Without warning the object trust in the sky had lost the shape of a hand, and now looked like an incredibly large patch of glass. Ribbons of black poured into the sky in a horrifing mess. The flickering lights of loose flames making them each seem leathery and wet. They were innumerable in the night, each with a hand, each grabbing at the godling. He would be able to feel them racing around him, slithering against his skin, and past his being like a swimming in a tank full of snakes and eels.

To hold, to wrap around, to pin, to secure. And most importantly to lower him to eye level with the Shadow before him. Once lowered a good half of the limbs would slither away into the nothingness of the night, leaving only the least amount necessary.

Maximos brilliant smile, shifted to a smaller darker grin. Not losing a drop of its sinister essence but instead condensing it into a smaller, neater package much more effective. His voice was calmer, because if all was according to plan, Sunstrike was no being held securely, and all he had to do was walk up and take what he wanted.

But first! Give me what I--

Lady Sierra Wrote:

"--NII-CHAN!"

The arms fell limp. Sun was free.

The scream was like a javelin tossed through the armor and piercing the heart of the monster before her. Maximos froze, his arms retreated back, his steps hurried beneath him trying to pull him away before he fell to the ground clutching his face, digging tiny holes into it, as he yelled and raged with himself.

Teira...Sun...I'm so sorry...

Tears streamed down his face. His fingers dug in the mud, as he cried out. Trying to bury his blood fingers in the murky rain water. He played at his lips, running thin cuts along them with the knife like fingers of his hand as if he was contemplating ripping them off.

I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...sorry......so sorry...

His voice spiraling weaker and weaker as the sadness seemed to utterly overtake him, as if he had lost the strength to beg that his loved ones not abandon the disgusting thing he was.

He looked entirely defeated before her. Like a few nights before, only without her arms to keep him from crashing into the ground in a heap. No maybe even with them. He wouldnt even lift his head. He was simply broken, in that black armor covered, ribbons of black holding him together.

So sad...isnt it?

Sun made a face, which was saying something since it felt as though most of it was actually falling off, and shoved himself away from the pillar, only to be caught, struggling upside down for a moment, and then smacked up against the darkness again, hard enough to make him see stars for a moment.

When he was righted again, the view with all the stars started to look more appealing. Nocturne bore down on him, Laz was surrounded by flame, and his captain was a small crumpled body. Sun struggled with the shadows, trying to brace himself somehow, and trying not to get that odd sinking feeling in his stomach that said he was well and truly trapped.

It was when Teira screamed, and suddenly all that oomph threw him a bit further then normal once the restraints disappeared. Sun fell to the ground with an undignified splash and a pain filled noise.

Bad Nocturne...no cookie.

Sun struggled upwards, tripping and barely catching himself when he heard the apology.

"Max..."

He shook his head, save ice doggie from fire first, heal damaged psyche's in a minute, Teira would be the first there anyway. And there was nothing Sun could give Maximos at that moment but his own guilt and frustration.

Sun stumbled in the direction of the flame, not even hesitating before walking through to his team mate. Placing a bloody hand on Lazenca's shoulder.

"Hang steady, boyo."

The salamander crouched down, and concentrated, the marble of his eye pressed into the floor. One by one, the new fire died out, decided it wanted to be elsewhere, or fizzled non-threateningly. Once finished he'd straighten, wobble, and turn back to the two figures in the rain.

"I think I'd rather take the cards I was given and leave the table alive, Laz, this is one of those "Mamma told me not to come," dealies." He spat red into a dying flame, putting it out with a sizzle.

Such strength...such gusto...

His hands were shaky in her grip. They slid away from his face as beads of rid slipped down, joining the pools of the stuff around his neck. His left hand twitched in her grip, not out of some dark evil but out of muscle damage from the shredding her tail had given it.

Such love...such caring...

His right hand, that disgustingly powerful Twilight Gauntlet shook loosely, and seemed to just barely resist her efforts, before finally resting on his knees, as they were buried in the muck.

Quote: "It's okay-- Nii-chan."

Such purity...such innocence...

Quote: "It's not your fault, so stop beating yourself up. I'm here... I won't..."

Maximos's body gave into her embrace. Melting even, as she placed her arms around him. Her torso before him, his head over her shoulder. Her cool cheek against his, smearing blood and muck between the two, as his voice silenced, the stream of apologizes slowly fading to wet sobs.

Such naivety...

Quote: "WON'T leave you alone."

His left arm, still seeping rain faded red, reached up and around her. Accepting the warm embrace, his hand resting on the upper half of her back.

I..e...h...a...

He was trying to speak, his words stolen by sobs. His face hidden as it faced opposite hers. She wouldnt be able to see the smile, or the arm moving until it was too late. Blood seeped down pale cheeks, his wet hair matted forward covering the sinister gaze in his murky mismatched eyes.

His hand was on her back, it pushed her closer. Holding her. Though the hold was something she couldnt know until she tried to resist it. Something she might not try and do until it was likely too late.

Such stupidity!

The Twilight Gauntlet thrust forward, and up with all of its sickly glory. Its fingers aligned together like one single cutting blade. Its aim was simple. To slice clean through her chest, and dig into her back. Specifically around the area of the heart.

WHHHHRRRRRIIIIIIIII!!!

Twice a loud as thunder, yet for half the time. There would be a glow gushing from inside Teira's body. Through the hopefully now existant wound. She would know this move, by sight, by sound, by feel. This was one of Maximos' signature techniques.

Quote:

• Shadow Bomb - Umbra Praemium

Ambient shadow is pulled in from the surrounding area, and are shoved into a small sphere. As more shadow is drawn in, the higher the instability of the sphere. After prolonged compression the sphere begins to crack and break. When let loose it explodes in a concussive blast of deep indigo flame, emitting no flame or heat damage, but rather a rather large gust of force in all directions. While the yield may not be fatal, the force is more than what is necessary to tip a semi onto its side.

She had seen it a thousand times. Teira would know this move by heart. No pun intended. She would know that it would blow her fragile shell to a very bad place, and all her words and efforts would be for not. The Gauntlet dug into her back, securing its hold as Maximos stood.

His eyes would gaze at her, as he chuckled to himself.

Who would want you?

It was his voice. It was perfectly his voice, like she had heard all her life.

Your just a doll...your not even real.

The cursed arm crackled, the violet pouring through cracks in her being. A move and he'd set it off.

....you dont even have a heart.

He said with a grin. Maximos' grin. Despite the silent threat being made, there was no killing intent. As every judge knew, as was public knowledge, Teira was not human. This attack could NEVER kill her. Though with the arm inside her, her magical energies were being quickly drained. And with the inside of the shell exposing her open soul...

Quote: Animus Raptor | Soul Taker - In order to initiate this effect on another living being, Maximos first needs skin to skin contact. A drain of the person life force immediately ensues. In effect every action the victim takes while under the influence seems to be twice as difficult, twice as stressful, until such time as they simply cannot act any longer. This is not absolute and instant kill. In total it would take likely up to one minute of contact to knock a person unconscious. And then three total minutes to finish them. Though this abilities draw speed can be increased at the cost of Maximos' own health, it can never be instantaneous.

Teira, while fully alive, was being incapacitated on many many fronts. Nocturne would take enough for her to stay alive, but hazy, groggy. If she could hold her sword, she wouldnt be able to lift it. He could increase the rate at which he drew from her, but at the cost of Maximos' life force...not a life force he cared very much for. He very much wanted her the doll she was just called.

Such...

He would turn to face Sunstrike. His tone, his face, everything shifting to as it was a minute earlier. He spoke with jagged intent, but a bloody grin.

...Conviction, Sunny! The third myth of reality, only those who seek the truth can be deceived.

He said, catching Sunstrike's attention and finishing his own thought. His face suddenly turning very serious as he held out his left hand in front of him. Sun would be able to see the grip, see the essence pouring from inside her unnaturally. Her supposedly dull, helpless expression.

....Now give me the eye boy...or you will forever remember your last kiss, as your kiss goodbye...

That wasnt a playing, empty tone. It was as serious as Death itself. He simply waited. Like any confident masterful monster. He didnt move. His attention remained on his bait. This was checkmate. And Sun would deliver the eye, no tricks, now Lazenca because he valued her life over his. Sun valued anyone close to him, over himself.

Maximos took it all. With a blood splattered face.

That grin was forced onto his face like a plastic mask, even though his body screamed in agony...not a sound escaped him, but a rolling chuckle. The tip of her blade protruded from the front of his breastplate. She had the time, she had the angle, and the reason.

Fellowship...dear boy...

Blood rolled from Maximos' grin. From his nose, down his chest, the ground was stained an even darker shade by the mix of crimson and wet ground. The body spasmed, nearly entirely as the sword sawed a wedge in the soft tissue between two vertebrae. It made moving a nightmare, breathing a horror as fire ran across every nerve in his body.

...the fourth myth of reality...

But the body moved. It moved to compensate look Teira right in the eye. To show here a smiling face, and show her the agony hidden in its eyes. And then fire.

He gasped for air. Flames seeped from his open mouth and nostrils, gushing from through the opening in and out of him. His veins filled with violet fire. His pale skin almost seemed a lavender hue, as the glow filled it, like a flashlight held up to skin.

But even within those dry heaving gasps, was a grin.

...As the tides of war shift, so do loyalties.

Surges of violet coursed up and down the cursed arm. Feeding and sending, more and more fervently. Maximos' eyes seemed hazy, glossy, still despite the tack on smile. His very life was being poured into this, draining his strength, his very being so that he could more expediently harm his sister. Teira had mounted a defense, but the increase in energy as it was drained from her made it inert.

Hands rose from the ground around him like daggers or spears, shooting up into the Shadow's body, popping him full of several brand new holes, just barely dodging more major organs. Max was being perforated.

BOOM!

Teira's sword, having been the focus of the flames had been launched away. Like any object that creates and intense force in an enclosed space that does not rupture. The fire had built up inside him, but was allowed to gush and escape through the newly inflicted myriad of holes in his being. Maximos was now covered in puckering burning passages, leading deep inside him. Each bled red, mixed with ashy black, and from each poured black smoke.

His first breath was black. A violet glow still visible in the back of his throat, as the final flames faded.

Maximos was terribly hard to kill, but even his body had limits.

He lurched forward onto one knee. Black smog rose from his charred form. His skin burned like hell itself. Any minute now he waited for those gates to open and take him.

She'll love you...in memory boy...

It seemed like the end for the poor Shadow. Or at least it should have been. Burned, cut, broken, slashed, and bleeding. But like a fathers graces, ribbons wrapped around him. Black lengths draped around his chest, and torso. Hands violated his form, slipping into his would and branching out. His spine was kept solid. His blood was kept from draining completely. And against the impossible...

He stood.

He looked more dead than alive. Despite the bright smile, anyone could see the arms were holding him together like a broken toy. None the less a very deadly, broken, toy. A brilliant, violet covered his form, from head to toe. It slipped across runes as Teira looked him in the eye. He did nothing but grin back, even as the runes faded away, and the bleeding came to a stop.

How does it feel to be dead again? How does it feel to be home?

And then forward came her wing, with crushing power it slammed into his side. Sparks rippled down his body, from his arm, straight to his leg as it slammed into the ground. Spirals of black rising up to secure his footing.

A god will not kneel in his own house.

Maximos' eyes never left Teira, giving her one last view of her brothers toothy grin before she faded. A view filled with cracks. Cracks that did not belong on skin.

Maximos. Shadow Warrior. Nocturne. Father of Shadow. It had been quite a long time since he had exited the flesh. With blood still coating his form, black and red mixed together he turned back to Sunstrike. Left hand out. Right hand, still inserted in Teira's chest, purple essence bleeding from nearly every oriface, crack, and opening on her.

Quote:

• Shadow Curse Release - Atra Somes de Nox Noctis

A ghost, placed in a suit of shadow armor magically linked to the ghost so that it is able to interact with the world around it. Though in truth it is only a tool with which to experience the world. And if its destroyed, the ghost is simply left homeless. That is Maximos in his Shadow Form.

Maximos is able to perform this shift at will, though it takes an extreme amount of effort and pain, and has been know to have its side effects. The Shadow Form is much less durable, and its cracks and breaks transfer when Maximos reverts back to human form. A severed or shattered arm, will return to flesh as an arm broken in three or four different places. But in return, in his Shadow Form his speed, durability, and magical resistances are greatly increased as he lacks muscle mass.

Quote: ....Now give me the eye boy...or you will forever remember your last kiss, as your kiss goodbye...

|| Inspired by Beauty from Pain(pt.1) ||

The lights go out all around me...

Her vision was starting to dim as the darkness threatened to consume her.

The Twilight Gauntlet deep in her chest, pulsed and flickered with her very own ebbing essence, her life force and her vitality... and there was Nocturne grinning, holding it in the palm of his hand. If she were a normal being, had a flesh and blood body--- The scene would have been gruesome. Organs exposed, her still beating heart--- oh wait. She wasn't flesh and blood. She was a shell. And like he'd said...

She was heartless.

Even as her opponent sought to put her down, she sought to keep fighting, pushing herself further, even in this state-- fighting to move forward, for the ones she loved.

Even if it meant attacking them...

The pain in Maximos eyes made her sick, her entire being was repulsed. HER. Nobody but HER had made him suffer that pain-- and still she couldn't stop.

Forward.

The image of her brother's face wavered--- at first she couldn't be sure if it was because of her weakened state and her failing vision, or--

No. He was different, spidery cracks decorated his face, even as they decorated her body. Even the feel of him-- he'd changed. One moment he was human the next, he was like her. A shadow.

Her tail lashed out, striking at his throat, If it was out of reach for the appendage to wrap around, then it would settle stabbing or slicing as it flayed back and forth.

She would open his throat in a second smile, slitting the pale flesh to leave a gaping, crimson grin.

In this form, it wouldn't be fatal, like her, he had no organs.

The tail would continue thrashing, impaling and slicing whatever it could reach. The actions started out, rapid, frenzied-- as time wore on they would slow, become sluggish.

Catching sight of Sunstrike nearing, she stopped moving and tugging.

'NO! Sun, don't give it to him!' Her mind screamed even as her mouth formed the words,

"Hggnn... Sun...strike... d--!"

Sunstrike Wrote:

"Do what you want with the shadow fragments,"

Even as Sunstrike took another step forward. Her head hung low, a spill of crimson shadowing her beaten and bloodied face, hiding her eyes beneath the fringe of bangs.

"What are you saying?"

She didn't look up.

Didn't move.

Didn't anything.

"That I don't--"

One last candle to keep out the night.

Sunstrike Wrote:

"she was never alive to begin with. I'm keeping the eye."

"N-no."

Sun had opened a part of Teira that nobody else had touched. A chamber in her heart where feelings had turned into a fire that filled her with warmth... shed light in the darkness. She had --

Her remaining shoulder shook with the silent tears that streamed freely down her face, salting the raindrops.

One of the very people who had helped her find her identity. Helped her believe in herself-- that she mattered, existed, was more than the manifestation of a memory... more than some fractured fragment---

"Don't you care about ME?

Was this all pretend--

was I some kind of doll for you to dress up and play with?"

Her left arm spasmed even as her right hand gripped the left wrist tightly and gave a solid yank, tearing the limb the rest of the way off with a wet plucking noise as the last few shadowy sinews overstretched and tore.

'Don't say it--- don't tell me that I--'

"DO I NOT EXIST? Am I not REAL enough for you? HRRK-- Do I matter so little?...

... LOOK AT ME DAMMIT!

Sun...strike... ... please..."

And then the darkness surrounds me...

Nothing.

That light... that warmth... extinguished. Like a candle whose flame had been smothered. The silent sound of a heart breaking--

Forsaken love.

Sun who was ignoring her, would be met with a vicious slap. Using her left arm as a club, she backhanded him, cracks running through the entire length of the limb as it began to disintegrate in her grasp, her right falling back to her side limply.

I know I'm alive but I feel like I've died.

She was so defeated. Crushed by the loss of the two people she loved most. betrayed consciously by one, and against their will by another. It would seem that Nocturne would have something else to delight in, relish in her pain and self-pity...

Unstable laughter escaped bleeding lips, as she half cried and half choked on sobbing laughter.

"You want it so badly?

My essence?

---THEN TAKE IT!"

All that essence that he's been soaking up in the Twilight Gauntlet, all the essence he was trying to pull on still-- She triggered it, in a phenomenal wave of pain and anger. Her rage triggering a backlash of shadowy flame, and like a wick soaked in kerosene, the trail of her essence led straight to the Twilight Gauntlet and still she fed more into it.

The shadowed figure before her would have a fleeting glimpse of a smile to mirror his own--

The flames wouldn't burn her, they wouldn't even burn Sun. They would burn the shadow however. But still, the release of energy was destructive in itself and Teira's chest was further blasted open, cracks through her whole body. Shadowy gaps with 'fragments' floating in them, a whole punched through her back. There wasn't much keeping her together other than her tiny sides.

Teira would slump, unconscious and dangerously close to the edge.

Nocturne loved sadness. The final moments before someone truly looses hope are oft the sweetest. But sadness was like a very rich chocolate, and Nocturne a small child. The more one ate, the less appealing it began until it simply began wearing thin...at which point a child simply picks up another candy.

Teira would slash at his throat, a line of black dripping down his neck, barely visible amongst the water, and the sheen. Yes, she was a fighter, brave, earnest. But as her tail moved again, he would snatch it out of the sky with his left. He held it by the meaty mid area. Teira's position was unmoving and so he the most it could do was tug at an unforgiving grip. Its spines dug deep into the hand, but in this form, that hardly mattered.

Oh thats quite enough of that....

Shadow was easier to crack then flesh, but it was also far more dense, compact, solid.

No. Nocturne wouldnt jump or flip or attack because a sliver of metal had been shoved through an empty carapace of inky black. He would however release her tail once it went limp and grab the offending foot.

Trust, Datho...

There was nothing Sunny about the man in front of him. And he loved it. While transversely, he could see and much worse feel the build up of flame in her chest. Magical attacks by hte very nature of the arm were only going to be eaten and again used to fuel the arm. The Twilight Gauntlet bent, and extended again. A swirl of violet pooled around his ankle before the grip literally fired off.

Quote: | Manus Dimitto - Maximos launches the Manus off of his actual arm like a projectile husk. It soars through the air like a missile, unraveling at the break point and violently burning through itself as fuel to launch the arm forward. It will continue its motion until it is either stopped by something stronger than the arm itself, impacts something hard enough, or runs out of "fuel". In the last case with the arm itself gone the hand vanishes completely in a single final burst.

Teira would fly, until she struck wreckage, at which point the arm would shove and push her against said object until it unraveled. Its dark sheening metal unaffected by the lashing black that wafted over it.

...the fifth myth of reality. Every truth holds the seed of betrayal...

He tugged the leg, his right hand plowing forward against with monsterous strength. No metal did not mean, no power. Toward the marble? No, not at all. But instead to the great surprise of most watching, to the eye socket of the godling. Nocturne didnt need to grapple it, or stab it, simply to run his hand along side it, or touch near it.

That was absolutely monsterous.. Your finally seeing things my way....

The touch. The contact. It was all Nocturne needed, he needed to feel Sun, to expand, for just a moment the connect between them, manually. His skin to Sun's. Black Noct Blood to Sunstrike's crimson caramel. It gave the Shadowy diety all the bandwidth he needed to send Sun a new program of sorts.

If all went right Sun would feel a slithering in his vacant socket, something crawling around, something foreign, and wet and cold. Before it brought itself to bear, maneuvering itself to its home at the edge.

It was black, and had something of a inky quality. Not a single solid marble, or a warbly gelatin, but instead a puddle of liquid held together by seemingly nothing. Its iris was a deep dark purple, something royal, but from the back of the eye soon came a spiral of orange which traced across its surface and soon connected with the violet. The colors did not intermingle, but the purple did change it shape, into a lovely sunburst. As it settled Sun, effectively had a black eye with violet and orange-ish sunburst for a cornea.

If not hindered it would blink, into functionality, giving him sight. It would take a moment to feel warm against the flesh, but it had all the trappings of the eye in palm. What good is a god without power?

Nocturne would be silent, save for a smile as he ran his large bloodied hand down the side of Sun's face, across his shoulder and down the hand holding the godlings eye, releasing the leg as he did so. He aimed to rest his hand, gently around Sunstrike's. Blood trickled from an open wound around the redheads, but blood and muck were no strangers in these moments.

You see? Horrible lies surround you. Reality is a harsh place Datho...but one I am free of...you neednt fear me...

His voice was sweet, but not too sweet. It was like the wafting aroma of a cake on a window. It called, but did not tug. It crept, but did not overtake. Like lace or silk on the pointed ears. His face was almost innocent. Almost. But not deceptive, innocent in that he was telling the truth. As far as he saw it.

Smearing a bit of black around pale redheads skin his hand would reach, around aiming to touch the eye. Not snatch! Not a play at grabbing it. Just a tap.

He would await Sun's answer, mismatched eyes meeting mismatched eyes.

With me, you neednt fear anything...not even yourself...

The slap was unexpected and harsh, but no less then he deserved. Shouldn't I be sorry? Maybe it's how I knew things would be, even before I began...Teira, I can't take care of you anymore. She was discarded, thrown away some good distance then, and it seemed, even though she'd been practically in pieces, that Sun breathed a little easier.

Maybe he wasn't sorry. Or maybe, just maybe...the change in atmosphere was giving him a clue to how the tides were turning.

But Sunstrike was caught, going in for the final blow, he felt the god of shadows slip closer, felt himself waver under the words that slipped over his consciousness and reached deep.

Then there was a sound that could only be described as music with the weight of winter behind it. And Sun's whole world turned white and blue for a stark moment in time.

Inches.

That's how close Nocturnes dark, outstretched hand was to Sun's ravaged face. The eye socket bled red tears as he just stared emptily towards it. His foot was still stuck in a tight grip and that was a problem, also, the cold, it ate at him, and woke him up from wherever he'd been. Sometimes you had to stare down the maw of the beast in order to get the best attack in.

He had a front row ticket to watch the grenade come in.

"Shiii-" Hand against ice he threw himself backwards, slipping out of the cold grip, and falling, crashing into the mud and...snow?

It was such an awkwardly pure weather considering the current situation.

There are good ideas. There are bad ideas. And then there are what northern and southern parts of Aria and Gaia would know as "Lazenca Ideas" once Nocturne was free of that insipid door.

Not only had a dog interrupted gods speaking, but he had done it so extremely rudely.

Nocturne would not fall. He would not bend. Tendrils extended to and from his leg as he stomped forward into the frosting mud. A shotgun has certain effects to a human being but...this body was no longer human. The shells mostly punctured through the target, and were dissolved to nothing by the tremendous heat inside it. His eyes froze on the wolf that now ventured so far as to touch him. To touch him. The only reason, the singular reason the Twilight Gauntlet moved even an inch was because Nocturne was trying to be gentle with Sunstrike.

But now he was mad.

Teira had an ability known as Shadow Flame. The ability to manifest a powerful emotion as searing hot flames. Maximos had taught her this ability...and the being before Lazenca had taught Maximos. There really was no word, no form, no description for how incredibly mad Nocturne was right now. Or how hot the violet flames seen pouring from his eyes and seething through his teeth were.

Ecks X Wrote:

Here, Cerberus was trapped in a new sculpture that was about 150 yards high and long, give and take for the jaggedness of the structure.

Here Nocturne had just spent the last few minutes draining all by the very least amount of life and magic from Teira. That energy had to go somewhere. It could go into an attack, or it could simply turn into raw unadulterated strength.

I did not give you permission to touch me, filthy beast!

Maximos was completely still, but his voice was completely audible bouncing from every shadow in a 200ft radius. Resounding in one booming, resounding voice.

A whirring would be heard, like gears turning. Oh wait...he was buried in ice. Nothing would be heard, as a charge ran through Maximos' jet boots. The glossy white and icy blue completely drowned out the already barely visible glow of the runes as they moved from purple, to violet, to indigo, to lavender, pink, and then stark white. You see the boots were run on pressure. At base Maximos could push them to an air speed of 50 miles an hour, but if that flow was stopped it built up, doubling on itself, the level of pressure shown by the color runes themselves. White meant that the boots were going to move at several times normal speed, usually pushing Maximos to speeds of around 150 to 200 mph. Zero to 200 in about 2 seconds lasting for about 1 mile.

Without any warning. The statue of ice exploded. Even permafrost would have crumbled like regular store bought brand cubes. It was not only the arm that Lazenca would see, but a myriad of tendrils pouring from the holes in Maximos' back which had ripped the cage to shreds. Maximos's body was made of shadow, filled with shadow...he had the ability to manipulate shadows into any shape he desired. Simple math.

The only real question was if Lazenca would would be able to see anything at all, as before the wreckage had nearly finished falling and the air was filled with a blanket of tossed snow and falling bits of ice. Before the Wulf could catch a scent Maximos would be on him, and 100ft farther away. Lazenca's knee was not just chipped in a few places, the joint was crushed like a can at 10,000ft below. It wasnt a matter of pain, it was a matter of functionality. There should be nothing but bits of bone to hold his weight, and he was heavy. So unless he was regenerating bone matter spontaneously....the idea of him dodging something moving so face was ridiculous.

The idea of him counter attacking, was even more so. Maximos led his charge with his right arm. The Twilight Gauntlet, looked barely recognizable as a human limb. Arms flailed and poured from the arm even as it was embraced by some sort of burning indigo miasma. There was no definite measure of the power it now exhibited. It could likely drop the Gates them selves onto Lazenca, but it didnt.

Now be a good boy!

The monster that had Lazenca had awakened charged directly for him. Countless arms of black poured from behind Maximos, not directly connected but rather diving from his wake, a myriad of tendrils like a sea of snakes jumping into the shadow of the carving he left in the ground with sheer force, and then leaping back out.

And he aimed to smash directly into Lazenca, lifting him a good 3ft off the ground. The shoulder charge from Hell. Something like being assaulted by a truck. Fatal? No, no. Death was wasted if it came too soon or easy. His body covered in thousands of degrees of horrifically hot flame. Nocturne barely ever got mad, but when he did, he hated everything. Existence as a whole could feel his flame unlike his limited daughter. He would carry the man a mere 100ft before the arms embraced Maximos form, from there dark abyssal corners. An instant that would likely feel like an eternity. Behind wreckage, in puddles, under small things. Countless hands reaching from nothing to grab him, sacrificing millions of themselves to finally bring his body to a skidding halt. Lazenca would not be so lucky. The sudden stop would send him soaring backwards by means of sheer inertia.

AND PLAY DEAD!

With Nocturne's right foot leading he roared forward at the flying wolf. His right arm snapped forward with blinding blurry black speed, grabbing for a leg. Lazenca's bad leg. He would grab it by the ankle and then rip his arm back, pivoting on his right foot to complete one 360 before snapping at the wrist like a fisherman to send Lazenca soaring into the sky.

The force of the spin alone, and the deliberate snap of the wrist, should have been more than enough to snap the leg from the broken knee downwards, clean off. Combined with the lashing flames that which attacked the ice, and the force of sudden impact the leg was likely unprotected. And soon to be disconnected, as the lycan was sent soaring at a 45 degree angle straight up and back.

But more so, as Maximos stopped charging the tendrils trailing behind him raced up to and finally through him soaring directly after Lazenca. As they passed through Nocturne, they ignited in his horrific flame. With ease the shadows would be able catch the dog, even if he stopped, even if he righted himself. A thousand burning arms, moved to cover his body. The arms meant to grab, and pin him to the ground setting Lazenca on broil, while covering his face, mouth, and eyes. And pull him out of the air, straight onto the ground. He was to be buried in black, and cooked. For as long as it took for him to be freed by someone. Way after this elimination was over.

Nocturne would turn on his heel. So this was Maximos' angry face. It was so rarely ever seen, it would look odd. But still, oddness was perhaps not the best term to use when describing an angry shadow god.

Now look what you've made me do Datho!

His Twilight Gauntlet extended forward with an accusing point. The shadows bubbled around Sunny, who for his sake was hopefully stable enough to run by now. The night looked like an uneven sea, dark corners showed things peeking and slithering through them.

You've force my hand! Now I must be RUDE!

He slammed his fist shut. And like suddenly running a spider web, Sun would hopefully find himself caught. Like elastic bands of black the shadows reached out from all directions inwards. Sun was a bigger target, he was enraptured in larger limbs. This was no random netting, no these arms gathered, and sought the arms, legs, and torso. They meant to hold Datho a few feet off the ground, limbs outward, like caught prey. Like a fly caught in the web.

Regardless of there effectiveness, Nocturne streaked forward directly at the red headed godling.

The Destroyer...

He had such a chaotic anger about him, if Sun remembered. That hungering breath. That bloody mouth. That was the face that bore on him. His hair blowing viciously in the wind, sending rain scattering in all directions. Turning a dozen flames from firey red and sunset orange, to deep royal purple and summer lavender.

GIVE ME MY POWER!

Not very classy huh? I suppose everyone has to slip into something more terrifying some times...

--Meanwhile--

You dont understand the depths of what darkness truly is...

Her brothers voice, and yet not.

What Teira would find would be something utterly different that what she expected. She would find bodies. Thousands, no millions of them, stacked on each other holding onto each other, despite there horrid forms. Each body missing a fragment. A head, half a torso, legs, with gruesome detail though these wounds were clearly old, each holding on to another, and another. They made a cocoon of sorts.

Oh, you dont have the heart...

A voice echoed through the black-scape. Each body cried, each lamented, and a few seemed to sing sad songs. There sadness was indeed a crashing wave, a powerful wall of emotion. Around the saddened figures were screens, foggy memories, bits and pieces on replay of someone quite resembling her brother, but with D's mouth killing...alot....of people. Just clips of gruesome murder and then a flash to a new scene. This cocoon floated in the black, and as she approached, the living structure of pale flesh opened. It unwrapped itself to give the small elf entry.

She would slip inside, searching for her brother, his figure before her. Her arms would wrap around him. Her soft smile, felt through his turned back. It might be then that she would notice where infact she was.

This was....the Library wasnt it? Back home? Books scattered everywhere...Maximos was leaning up against the fireplace as violet flames danced inside of it, a book held between both hands.

Tiera!

He said with a bright smile, and a sort of odd surprise. He was far too calm for what was going on outside.

What're you doing here?

He closed his book, putting on the ledge above the fireplace as he turned around to face her.

What an odd dream. Either way, I'm glad to see you.

And he would hug her. Completely oblivious.

Go ahead...we always hurt the ones we love...

((I dont like to mix OOC and IC. But when an IC post is just a cleverly enshrouded OOC post, I feel I must at least, say something to help clarify. Which bluntly said means Lazenca's post offends and attacks me as a Roleplayer publicly, and I'm going to defend myself now, publicly.

We'll start from the top.

Quote: HoH... surely, members of the celestial plane could cook up better things to do than take the eyes of others.

Sunstrike is also a god, and his eyes are the centers of his power. Nocturne needs that power to free himself. Sure it was sarcasm, but it falls rather flat in the light of simple facts.

Quote: The Backlash Grenade didn't have buckshots, just force. If it matters.

This is a two parter.

My post.

Quote: It took another second for it to reveal its true nature as it cracked and burst with fury, throwing all of Lazenca's frustration, ignorance, and anger at the middle of Cerberus' back. Like taking a double buckshot at point blank range, with the Hollywood effect of flying back did it attack.

This was the buckshot being referenced, the grenade was not being mentioned because of my second point.

Your post.

Quote: Here, Cerberus was trapped in a new sculpture that was about 150 yards high and long, give and take for the jaggedness of the structure.

"...But I'm the Alpha around here..."

Sunstrike was probably right next to it, having been grabbed. If he was caught in it by the grab, then the damage to his leg would be like an ice cube on the Glacier compared to what Cerberus was going to be expecting. Teira was probably some ten feet away now, if the throw was anywhere near the one Lazenca received. The Gauntlet wasn't going to be able to do anything to stop it by sucking it in, because that was being turned far away... yeah, Lazenca felt HEART being suppressed when his knee got shattered, and it was HEART that had reactivated.

And so the Aquatic Zone Backlash Grenade came crashing in with an imploding force pretty much guaranteed to end this match, on Cerberus' head and back.

And my post reads...

Quote:

Ecks X Wrote:

Here, Cerberus was trapped in a new sculpture that was about 150 yards high and long, give and take for the jaggedness of the structure.

Here Nocturne had just spent the last few minutes draining all by the very least amount of life and magic from Teira. That energy had to go somewhere. It could go into an attack, or it could simply turn into raw unadulterated strength.

"I did not give you permission to touch me, filthy beast!"

Maximos was completely still, but his voice was completely audible bouncing from every shadow in a 200ft radius. Resounding in one booming, resounding voice.

A whirring would be heard, like gears turning. Oh wait...he was buried in ice. Nothing would be heard, as a charge ran through Maximos' jet boots. The glossy white and icy blue completely drowned out the already barely visible glow of the runes as they moved from purple, to violet, to indigo, to lavender, pink, and then stark white. You see the boots were run on pressure. At base Maximos could push them to an air speed of 50 miles an hour, but if that flow was stopped it built up, doubling on itself, the level of pressure shown by the color runes themselves. White meant that the boots were going to move at several times normal speed, usually pushing Maximos to speeds of around 150 to 200 mph. Zero to 200 in about 2 seconds lasting for about 1 mile.

Without any warning. The statue of ice exploded.

Note where my post interrupted yours. Nocturne was caged in icy, and shattered out of it. He did so before the grenade was set off. He did not STAND and EAT it at all. Except of course being flash frozen...he preceded it. If the grenade was launched, immediately with not a second to spare, the post does not reflect this. And I, again do not know your moves. More so...

1st Post.

Quote: And so the Aquatic Zone Backlash Grenade came crashing in with an imploding force pretty much guaranteed to end this match, on Cerberus' head and back.

To say an attack is "Pretty much garunateed says nothing about the strength or form of the oncoming attack. Only that it was an implosion. So in effect you've only said "I hit you hard enough to beat you." When in truth, you dont know what it would take, or how hard of a hit it would take to end your fight. You know what a human could take, but the last post stated Maximos had tossed away humanity. All you had was assumption. You gave nothing to respond to except perhaps to say "I took it and apparently lost just because...it imploded hard." It lacked the detail necessary...

2nd Post.

Quote: And then he STOOD and ATE 1.5 football fields worth of pressure, that would have crushed the Tech launcher thrice... or at least put him in a body cast. If it matters.

....This detail. Which appeared after everything was said and done. Wulf, I dont have your profile memorized, I dont know what you move is or how strong it is, one times, two times or even three times its normal strength. I do not know what HEART is except something Mati from Captain Planet shouts. I do not know what effect it has on your techniques. I cannot know unless you tell me, and you did not tell me. But more so...referring to my first post. I moved before the grenade.

Lastly.

Your post.

Quote: So did anything Lazenca do matter? Was his participation really wanted, needed by anyone here? Stepping in to assist, after getting ignored almost spelled the end for him. If this didn't stop soon, like NOW soon, Lazenca was dead.

Not that it mattered.

Laz is apparently dying.

My post.

Quote: A thousand burning arms, moved to cover his body. The arms meant to grab, and pin him to the ground setting Lazenca on broil, while covering his face, mouth, and eyes. And pull him out of the air, straight onto the ground. He was to be buried in black, and cooked. For as long as it took for him to be freed by someone. Way after this elimination was over.

Last I saw, Lazenca was not physically made of ice, a very slow burn in a tight space was not only not designed to kill. But, really had no chance of killing an ordinary human...So why Lazenca is suddenly dying NOW. I dont know.

In the end, despite the billion ways I could have said "I R SHADOW GOD!" I basically set Nocturne on enough blaze to counter any immediate ice crushings, I charged at Laz really fast and even had him exposed to the flame for few seconds at worse, snapped off an already broken leg...and them tied him to the ground and set to him to broil. Its something any weak fire elemental can do. I'd say I was being rather nice. Hell, Maximos likely took more damage from the sheer G's of accelerating that fast. But Laz is dying....really?

But...before you or anyone goes calling Reapers. Let me ask you, and all of you inquisitive readers out there casting judgments and such. Look back through the fight...has anyone...even Lazenca here even tried to attack the shadowy arms? At all? Even a tiny bit? A thousand of anything can feel a lot stronger than they are individually. A thousand bee stings can kill you, one leaves a painful welt. The Shadowy Arms are called "monstrous" and "terrible" but no reference has been made to there actual strength. These arms could each be extremely feeble, and yet by sheer number feign strength, through unity. Of course if that was the case they'd be surprisingly easy to defend against wouldnt they?

Huh.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled elimination already in progress. For any further questions or comments, Wulf, please contact me via PM or MSN. I'd rather not put any more OOC of any sort in an IC thread. And I'd hate to see your team take the .5 OOC penality.

Thank you,

Max.))

[i'm addressing things straight down the line as i read them. no time for quotes.

the mention of gods playing was some offhand way of laz waving his hand at the fact that he didn't know they were gods, what with not seeming godly to him. last he checked, gods had other things to do than go looking for eyes, power notwithstanding.

i know what was being referenced, but i wanted to make sure you didn't think it was a shotgun blast, in ice form. that's like saying you turned into a mack truck and shoulder rushed me.

define the interruption whichever way you wish, really... but you did eat it in the worst of ways. i don't define time because people like manipulating the hell out of numbers, but next time i'll make the post even longer by putting in all the cool action sequences with a clock in the corner the likes of which are suited for an anime. but... for the record, i didn't plan on giving more than a second's time between cast and attack. you had the solution to the problem in that short time... whatever, that's what you do, congratulations or sommat.

yes, i do think "pretty much guaranteed to end the match" speaks for its power. such a statement implies that at my estimation, the power of the attack is enough to defeat you. again, i'll put in joules and psi and whatever else if i have to, but i don't like getting SCIENCE'd. however, if the quiet assumption that i beleived that the attack ws enough from sheer virtue of being awesome, maybe the fact that you have 1.5 football fields worth of ice sitting on your head and back that come imploding in would be some descriptor of its estimated power and why i'm so "how in the hell did my attacks get eaten."

i don't see what knowing my normal power limit or my latent abilites have to do with anything when i'm telling you that you have the pressure of all that ice sitting on you, and i'm telling you all that matter. for the record, HEART helps with healing-- when the gauntlet was placed on the leg and started sucking power from any assistance that may've been added, that was all that was affected because i had no other abilities activated, and i don't activate things at the very last second of attack like that. or maybe i do, but this would be a very retarded instance for me to do so.

THE POINT IS that i didn't ignore the gauntlet's taking aura/power/uppercut away, and that's why it was pushed down. i just didn't have a reason to, or want to mention it in the post of being thrown off. bringing up the purpose of HEART is nothing more than an attempt to jab back, 'cause i've heard the mati jokes already. it has no other bearing on anything but one motion, small but critical.

yes, lazenca will probably die if he is forced to lay there and take some fire. i don't know about the temperature settings, but "broil" is the highest setting on my oven so that, along with the fact that i'm fighting a god, would mean that i can expect some hardcore temperatures. i also just spent x# posts, assuming i was posting while y'all continued the story, charging and i launched a huge attack. despite the weather conditions, i follow a set of rules that state that after a Combo Tech, there is some downtime. the weather makes it not as drastic, but something has to give. were i to just to laugh at the hands and fire, comparing it to the hot-handed massage of a viet masseuse, then you'd be some pissed. sorry for giving your power the benefit of the doubt, i guess.

i don't see what talking about the arms has to do with anything, really. if they're monstrous, i expect the gnarled arms of some gigan or large demon-type. if you want them to be baby-demon arms in strength, then i'm sure you'd say "they're not as bad as they look." why would i attack arms anyway, when the source of all of it is 3 feet away?

i'd be a liar to say that i wasn't taken aback at getting asked not to take what was about to happen personally. i offered to step away and let the story battle happen (accepting sun's "stand down") but then we got re-challenged (your "don't you dare) so i thought the plans for any FMV i didn't know about were canceled. but then i'm ignored for the fight, so y'all can FMV it up anyway. no, i openly stated that i chalked it up to cerberus-char just pushing laz-char's buttons in all the right ways.

but when the attack the judges all tell me to switch up because of its instant death laser base nature is EATEN with just a tickle and a short movement, then the 1.5 football fields of ice are juggernauted through, i tossed my hands in the air.

next time, tell me when i'll be in the way; i've better things to do than get my hands broken for pressing start on the FMV i didn't know started.

and if you're so offended, i can remove the litany... but i like the post just as it is. i challenge anyone to show me how my participation in this matters.]

Move back, rewind, work through it.

It did matter that Laz had drawn the attention so solidly away from Sun. It DID matter that, Lazenca had done all he could to help out. That Teira was now out of the way, that Sun got half a chance to pull off half a miracle.

It just did, matter. Regardless of the consequences.

In the end it was inevitable that the eliminator would win out. It's their job, and this one had more then just that as his motivation for wanting Sunstrike's eye.

And c'mon, it was a ******** good eye, colourful, sparkly, chock full of that magic stuff.

The other eye, now, the left one...that was an interesting point.

He'd gotten it as a gift, from a very good friend, for a favour he'd done for the shades. A group of beings that could bend dark matter like steel. This, of course was a tiny version, magicked to look exactly the same unless one of it's kin set it off.

Sun just hoped his plan worked, and it wasn't long before it was put to the test. Hands wrenched him with a nasty sound from the mud. He was drenched, wound in his side obviously bleeding...

"Wait...wait...Nocturne, I submit." Sun looked out of a bleary eye, blood streaming down from the many cuts on his face. Teira was a small crumpled form, Wulf was heavily damaged. This wouldn't do, not at all.

"I'll give it to you. I know you hold all the cards, but I'll give up your gift to replace my sight, in return...in exchange, for some reparations to my team members, and the one who's body you are currently residing."

His knuckles were white around the small orb, and Sun swallowed blood and dirt, making a face as he hung there.

"You can easily take what you want, you can easily ask for more on my part, just please...as your..." Again a swallow, harder this time, as if choking on the words.

"As your friend."

"I need them if we go through to the next round. It'd suck if I had to fight without the rest."

To say there was no hesitation would be lying. Sun was giving up a part of himself, and, well, magically this was supposed to be the closest he'd get to becoming castrated.

"That's something I imagine she and I'll have to get to grips with, then. We can't all have paradise, y'know."

Orange and yellow swirled and Sun carefully, almost agonizingly, placed it in Nocturnes hand, not letting go, even if the god wrapped a hand around his own.

He just met those eyes looking ill, tired...slightly hollow.

I guess this answers whether I'm a bad person or not.

And he'd slide his hand out of the grip, sans eye, shaking it a few times as if ridding himself of a nasty feeling. Touching Nocturne was like having very small hands clutch every inch of your skin, looking for a way through to deeper things.

"Take care of it, s'saved my skin on numerous occasions."