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lunaecalamitas2024-06-20 02:26 pm
promittere) wrote in lunaecalamitas2024-06-20 02:26 pm
[ They're better in that he immediately believes "we're wizards," and he nods. Though he does tilt his head. Whatever's going through his mind he isn't voicing it...
Tatara's name sparks recognition in his eyes. ]
Totsuka-san... Yes, yes! He's still here?
[ Akira staggers to his feet, unsteady at first. He seems pretty discombobulated. ]
I'm Akira, and I'm the sage. Is— [ The manor rumbles, and there's loud explosions outside. His head whips around, and it seems this is the first time he's noticing something is happening. ]
What's—what's going on?!
Tatara's name sparks recognition in his eyes. ]
Totsuka-san... Yes, yes! He's still here?
[ Akira staggers to his feet, unsteady at first. He seems pretty discombobulated. ]
I'm Akira, and I'm the sage. Is— [ The manor rumbles, and there's loud explosions outside. His head whips around, and it seems this is the first time he's noticing something is happening. ]
What's—what's going on?!
[ Better late than never, as they say.
Slipping in on Jing Yuan's heels, here's Shinjiro, none the worse for wear. That being said, there's something irritating in watching everyone scrape by when the worst they've got is a set of bruised knuckles.
Regardless of G'raha's healing touch, and the ominous pressure of their unexpected guest, Shinjiro prefers to turn his eyes to more important things; preferably, beating this mechanical asshole till he's a smear of mana dust and engine grease on the ground. ]
Meminero.
[ He may not have had the axe before, but it materializes in his hand now, scorched and smeared with ash as it's pulled from the smoking ruins of his room. When his fingers drag across the metal head, sparks follow in it's wake, the thrum of magic embuing itself deep in it's core as lightning cracks and coils around it's surface.
And then his arm rears back, shadows dancing across the curve of his features as he shifts.
He aims-
Go to hell!
And Shinjiro launches it, blade whipping through the air with a practiced finesse. It lodges, like a knife into butter, near the neck of the machine...and soon after, a flurry of electricity will burst forth from the axe itself, made worse from the splash of Khun's saltwater as it travels down the full length of the metal behemoth to try and short-circuit it from both the inside and the outside. ]
Slipping in on Jing Yuan's heels, here's Shinjiro, none the worse for wear. That being said, there's something irritating in watching everyone scrape by when the worst they've got is a set of bruised knuckles.
Regardless of G'raha's healing touch, and the ominous pressure of their unexpected guest, Shinjiro prefers to turn his eyes to more important things; preferably, beating this mechanical asshole till he's a smear of mana dust and engine grease on the ground. ]
Meminero.
[ He may not have had the axe before, but it materializes in his hand now, scorched and smeared with ash as it's pulled from the smoking ruins of his room. When his fingers drag across the metal head, sparks follow in it's wake, the thrum of magic embuing itself deep in it's core as lightning cracks and coils around it's surface.
And then his arm rears back, shadows dancing across the curve of his features as he shifts.
He aims-
Go to hell!
And Shinjiro launches it, blade whipping through the air with a practiced finesse. It lodges, like a knife into butter, near the neck of the machine...and soon after, a flurry of electricity will burst forth from the axe itself, made worse from the splash of Khun's saltwater as it travels down the full length of the metal behemoth to try and short-circuit it from both the inside and the outside. ]
[Ithaqua stands with him and puts his hands under the sage's arms to hold him steady. Like this boy is a kitty.]
A fight against a human who set his weapons on the manor. [It's quite destroyed right now. The sage room is still standing because... well. lol all those protections.]
A fight against a human who set his weapons on the manor. [It's quite destroyed right now. The sage room is still standing because... well. lol all those protections.]
Mm, yes. It's not so bad, having a spell split in two.
[Once in a while, anyway. He's come around a little on the idea of shared magic, considering all the innovative ways magic and its derivatives and tools are all spread out here. It's not unlike artifacts -- even if he has his nitpicks with those too. He's a flexible Eminence-slash-dark-knight-slash-wizard-slash-whatever-else, though!
Especially when that flexibility gets him fun firework finales. Presuming that this is a finale. Eh, they've got a few more turns to figure that out.
There's a long glissando of notes--]
Great Power! Great Consequence! Our enemy is about to learn the real ramifications of that.
Aren't you?
[He says this very dramatically mech-ward with a flourish of his cloak and is probably at least half-drowned out by the lightning wizards. It's fine. He tried and that's what counts.
And then he intones the real incantation of the hour, in a language no one here really recognizes but which bears a passing but indecipherable resemblance to European languages: I AM.......
ATOMIC: SWORD.
Thus somewhat mundanely named: a sword extends from his sleeve, from his hand, the same jet-black as everything else about him in this moment: honed to a point so fine it doesn't even need to shine, extending outward like an eclipse on earth. Half-hidden and completely powered up by the magic circle underneath them, his shadow sword extends itself, widens itself, until it's almost as imposing as a giant's sword might be -- poised at just the right distance to the second mechanical abomination of all wizard time.
The swing is much, much too fast for a sword that long and spread out, like a slice through space-and-time, sideways. The condensed magic of the sword aims to cleanly bisect anything it encounters, mechanical appendages, innards, pilot cockpit, pilot, and everything in between. At least part of that mecha is going to be running nice and separate from the other parts.]
[Once in a while, anyway. He's come around a little on the idea of shared magic, considering all the innovative ways magic and its derivatives and tools are all spread out here. It's not unlike artifacts -- even if he has his nitpicks with those too. He's a flexible Eminence-slash-dark-knight-slash-wizard-slash-whatever-else, though!
Especially when that flexibility gets him fun firework finales. Presuming that this is a finale. Eh, they've got a few more turns to figure that out.
There's a long glissando of notes--]
Great Power! Great Consequence! Our enemy is about to learn the real ramifications of that.
Aren't you?
[He says this very dramatically mech-ward with a flourish of his cloak and is probably at least half-drowned out by the lightning wizards. It's fine. He tried and that's what counts.
And then he intones the real incantation of the hour, in a language no one here really recognizes but which bears a passing but indecipherable resemblance to European languages: I AM.......
ATOMIC: SWORD.
Thus somewhat mundanely named: a sword extends from his sleeve, from his hand, the same jet-black as everything else about him in this moment: honed to a point so fine it doesn't even need to shine, extending outward like an eclipse on earth. Half-hidden and completely powered up by the magic circle underneath them, his shadow sword extends itself, widens itself, until it's almost as imposing as a giant's sword might be -- poised at just the right distance to the second mechanical abomination of all wizard time.
The swing is much, much too fast for a sword that long and spread out, like a slice through space-and-time, sideways. The condensed magic of the sword aims to cleanly bisect anything it encounters, mechanical appendages, innards, pilot cockpit, pilot, and everything in between. At least part of that mecha is going to be running nice and separate from the other parts.]
Then thou dost know of him.
[Interesting.
Following up with Ithaqua has said:]
Tatara and our fellow wizards are participating in yonder battle. We had ventured here to recuperate, though I daresay we were not expecting to discover thee hale and whole.
[Disoriented, sure, but definitely whole. Urianger rises to his feet, checking Akira over.]
With that said...well met, Akira the Sage. Were that the circumstances more favorable than they are.
[Interesting.
Following up with Ithaqua has said:]
Tatara and our fellow wizards are participating in yonder battle. We had ventured here to recuperate, though I daresay we were not expecting to discover thee hale and whole.
[Disoriented, sure, but definitely whole. Urianger rises to his feet, checking Akira over.]
With that said...well met, Akira the Sage. Were that the circumstances more favorable than they are.
[ Akira's eyes go a little wide when he's manhandled. Thanks?
There's another crack of lightning somewhere and his head snaps to look past the ruined wall up at the wizards flying around outside... Yeah, at least most of the room is in tact.
He dusts himself off as Urianger looks him, shaking off the grog of whatever state he happened to be in the past few months, and he takes a deep breath. ]
It's good to meet you, too. But we can spend a little longer introducing ourselves afterwards. [ His eyes are set and determined. He looks back and forth between Urianger and Ithaqua with unwavering confidence—now this is the look of a sage. ] Take me to the battle.
There's another crack of lightning somewhere and his head snaps to look past the ruined wall up at the wizards flying around outside... Yeah, at least most of the room is in tact.
He dusts himself off as Urianger looks him, shaking off the grog of whatever state he happened to be in the past few months, and he takes a deep breath. ]
It's good to meet you, too. But we can spend a little longer introducing ourselves afterwards. [ His eyes are set and determined. He looks back and forth between Urianger and Ithaqua with unwavering confidence—now this is the look of a sage. ] Take me to the battle.
Edited 2024-06-25 05:19 (UTC)
[ Day has to be impressed by the dramatics, not gonna lie. Showmanship is always going to be a point of interest to most bluesids. ]
[Well. Here we go. Ithaqua gives Urianger a nod, before taking a breath and reciting his incantation again, changing his clothing once more into the white coat, white suit, all pristine and intact as if he'd never become injured in the first place. He flips his hair out of his face, behind his ears and growing antlers, extracts the lantern from his mother's staff and attaches it to his belt, and then picks the sage up to balance him on his arm.
Then he holds his free arm out to Urianger so he can do the same to his boyfriend.]
Come, I am the fastest out of all of us. [He's confident!]
Then he holds his free arm out to Urianger so he can do the same to his boyfriend.]
Come, I am the fastest out of all of us. [He's confident!]
[If dark swords are going to be the name of the game today, Phil can certainly join in on that: he'll be repeating the same spell he used earlier, once more summoning the transparent purple sword that swings itself towards the mech, decreasing its ability to defend itself once it strikes, and with any luck cutting at least part of the way into the metal as well.
... yeah, it's really not that hard to see just why these two ended up as a pair, honestly.]
... yeah, it's really not that hard to see just why these two ended up as a pair, honestly.]
[ Since the Old Sage is back and there's quite a commotion from the battle outside, there's no need to stay anymore and they slip away. That boost of magic given to all the wizards is also felt, so.... Might as well. Comet rides their broom up high, hands clasped together. They have their special outfit on, now blessing their talent with the true element they were good at.
A huge glowing circle appears above the mech, decorated with patterns of craters and circles inside its border. ]
The largest sea of the moon, darkened and scarred by the early heaven's downpour...
Mare Imbrium. Crash down with the heavy rains.
[ The magic circle summons a phantasmal shower of blades, pinning down the mech with powerful gravity magic weighing upon it. ]
A huge glowing circle appears above the mech, decorated with patterns of craters and circles inside its border. ]
The largest sea of the moon, darkened and scarred by the early heaven's downpour...
Mare Imbrium. Crash down with the heavy rains.
[ The magic circle summons a phantasmal shower of blades, pinning down the mech with powerful gravity magic weighing upon it. ]
Edited 2024-06-25 14:10 (UTC)
[Urianger nods back at Ithaqua, then turns to Akira.]
We shall make it so. 'Tis time we made our way back as well.
[With Ithaqua changing back to his special clothing, Urianger determines that this is the opportune moment to debut his own outfit. With a quick incantation of his own, his tattered robes are exchanged for an elegant ensemble.
He's about to summon his broom, but finds Ithaqua's arm extended toward him instead.]
But I...
[He doesn't need to burden Ithaqua still... Well, Ithaqua is the one who's offering. So with a breath, he nods and makes his way over.]
Let us go.
We shall make it so. 'Tis time we made our way back as well.
[With Ithaqua changing back to his special clothing, Urianger determines that this is the opportune moment to debut his own outfit. With a quick incantation of his own, his tattered robes are exchanged for an elegant ensemble.
He's about to summon his broom, but finds Ithaqua's arm extended toward him instead.]
But I...
[He doesn't need to burden Ithaqua still... Well, Ithaqua is the one who's offering. So with a breath, he nods and makes his way over.]
Let us go.
[ Akira grabs onto Ithaqua without hesitation, looks to Urianger, and nods firm. They may have just met, but he's putting all his trust in these two. ]
Time to put an end to this.
Time to put an end to this.
[In that instant when Phil saw Day catch that blast full-on, he swears he felt his heart stop, his blood running cold. He's too stunned to even make a sound, just staring in horror and waiting for what he's sure will happen next (Day and the broom plummeting to the ground, because that's the only thing that can happen next)... until he hears the unmistakable sound of Day laughing.
It's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. And even watching Day unleash a curse without the slightest bit of hesitation - with a grin that's almost feral - is beautiful in its own way with how full of life and spirit he is.
It's dazzling, and Phil finds that he can't look away even if he wanted to.]
It's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. And even watching Day unleash a curse without the slightest bit of hesitation - with a grin that's almost feral - is beautiful in its own way with how full of life and spirit he is.
It's dazzling, and Phil finds that he can't look away even if he wanted to.]
[ The old-young sage is back and in good hands with Urianger and Ithaqua (or the other way around), but Ginger, who has been itching to join the battle and contribute more than just the very little he has, decides now’s the time. The sage gets a distracted nod and smile from him, but Mika’s the one who has his attention. ]
Shall we, my love? [ Between the two of them, Mika’s the fighter. So he suggests a plan, hashed out in murmurs between the two of them.
There’s a lot going on in the air when Ginger flies them out through the window: lightning and darkness, water and heat, gravity upturned and so many swords - and from below hands itching to drag this scant leftover of a man to hell.
He flies them even higher than that, where it feels like they could touch the Heavens, where he’s always been the most comfortable with his power, and then -
One by one his mirrors - his barriers - spiral below them like a staircase of cards. A crimson ratio of red, the carpet unrolling for… ]
Shall we, my love? [ Between the two of them, Mika’s the fighter. So he suggests a plan, hashed out in murmurs between the two of them.
There’s a lot going on in the air when Ginger flies them out through the window: lightning and darkness, water and heat, gravity upturned and so many swords - and from below hands itching to drag this scant leftover of a man to hell.
He flies them even higher than that, where it feels like they could touch the Heavens, where he’s always been the most comfortable with his power, and then -
One by one his mirrors - his barriers - spiral below them like a staircase of cards. A crimson ratio of red, the carpet unrolling for… ]
Edited 2024-06-25 06:49 (UTC)
You might be right.
[ Tatara reaches to put a hand on Khun's arm, his expression serene. ]
But you might not be. We can think about it now, but don't get too caught up thinking in circles. I know we'll be prepared to face whatever hiccups that might come up.
[ He squeezes, and smiles. ]
It'll work out.
[ Tatara reaches to put a hand on Khun's arm, his expression serene. ]
But you might not be. We can think about it now, but don't get too caught up thinking in circles. I know we'll be prepared to face whatever hiccups that might come up.
[ He squeezes, and smiles. ]
It'll work out.
[ Tatara's head is whipping around to look at anyone nearby because LOOK!!!
If everyone's crests have vanished and he's no longer the sage then that means this relationship is okay now SOMEONE LOOK AT HIS BOYFRIEND LOOK AT HOW COOL HE IS—
LOOK AT THE SPEAR THROW
LOOK AT HIS POWER
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH ]
If everyone's crests have vanished and he's no longer the sage then that means this relationship is okay now SOMEONE LOOK AT HIS BOYFRIEND LOOK AT HOW COOL HE IS—
LOOK AT THE SPEAR THROW
LOOK AT HIS POWER
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH ]
( ... Mika, light as a feather, his rapier pointed down.
Like a drop in his stomach, Mika had been afraid when he'd felt his magic sealed. His vines withered black, the roses turned to ash and dissipated— leaving behind only the faint scent of blood and decay.
He is not powerless without his magic, but he was not powerful enough, and if he was not powerful enough, people would die— again, as they always did; and, worse yet, he might not be among them— as always, as always. Death's shadow settles across his vision, and he hears it ask him, again, if he is watching.
He has not felt so chill since he had died.
But hope appears like a spark. Not in the form of a hero, maybe, but he feels the gentle hymn of spirits in the rustle of nature about him and how that song swells within him, and that is enough. He is steady enough to plan with Ginger, and he is empowered by the strange blood that courses in him like a roaring furnace - one that'd fought against his reason telling him to stay in place and protect the former sage. But with Bruno and Ithaqua behind them, Mika and Ginger could step forward, and act.
Shall we? Ginger asks, and Mika's answer is, as it would ever be: Always, my heart.
He is someone born startlingly incomplete. He feels the balance in his step, descending Ginger's mirrored steps from heaven, to act as two halves of a whole. And in the night, beneath the heavy moon, he feels - light, and at home.
His mind feels clear.
Mika's vines overbloom from the earth below: the thorned tendrils sprout massive and thick as they shoot upward to seize the body of the mech and spiral 'round it, vast roses blooming in overtime. They hold it still, or close enough.
And down comes Mika.
In concert with everyone's attacks, Mika lets gravity - impact enforced with magic - guide his blade downward, its point aimed into the face of the juggernaut, seeking to fatally pierce the human within. Wound around his blade are his thorned vines and roses, grown from his own blood and energy. The logic: if these can provide an absolute defense, they may make his blade unbreakable enough to shatter through the cockpit, and through the bloody heart of the pilot. )
Like a drop in his stomach, Mika had been afraid when he'd felt his magic sealed. His vines withered black, the roses turned to ash and dissipated— leaving behind only the faint scent of blood and decay.
He is not powerless without his magic, but he was not powerful enough, and if he was not powerful enough, people would die— again, as they always did; and, worse yet, he might not be among them— as always, as always. Death's shadow settles across his vision, and he hears it ask him, again, if he is watching.
He has not felt so chill since he had died.
But hope appears like a spark. Not in the form of a hero, maybe, but he feels the gentle hymn of spirits in the rustle of nature about him and how that song swells within him, and that is enough. He is steady enough to plan with Ginger, and he is empowered by the strange blood that courses in him like a roaring furnace - one that'd fought against his reason telling him to stay in place and protect the former sage. But with Bruno and Ithaqua behind them, Mika and Ginger could step forward, and act.
Shall we? Ginger asks, and Mika's answer is, as it would ever be: Always, my heart.
He is someone born startlingly incomplete. He feels the balance in his step, descending Ginger's mirrored steps from heaven, to act as two halves of a whole. And in the night, beneath the heavy moon, he feels - light, and at home.
His mind feels clear.
Mika's vines overbloom from the earth below: the thorned tendrils sprout massive and thick as they shoot upward to seize the body of the mech and spiral 'round it, vast roses blooming in overtime. They hold it still, or close enough.
And down comes Mika.
In concert with everyone's attacks, Mika lets gravity - impact enforced with magic - guide his blade downward, its point aimed into the face of the juggernaut, seeking to fatally pierce the human within. Wound around his blade are his thorned vines and roses, grown from his own blood and energy. The logic: if these can provide an absolute defense, they may make his blade unbreakable enough to shatter through the cockpit, and through the bloody heart of the pilot. )
This must be what traveling to a faraway place is like, huh? [ He knows that's one thing he and Bruno probably have in common—Tatara scarcely ever got the chance to go beyond the boundaries of Tokyo, and he figures Bruno probably never left where he lived. ] To go somewhere totally different, and then end up finding little pieces of home in the people you meet...
[ He doesn't know about the language thing, but he's certain Khun must have felt a similar way. Even if he never mentioned or showed it. ]
Oh, I know. [ His eyes widen as an idea comes to him. ] I'll make something for you to take with you. You can always talk to it like I'm with you—oh, or maybe I can get someone to enchant it so it talks back...
[ Now he's thinking ideas— ]
[ He doesn't know about the language thing, but he's certain Khun must have felt a similar way. Even if he never mentioned or showed it. ]
Oh, I know. [ His eyes widen as an idea comes to him. ] I'll make something for you to take with you. You can always talk to it like I'm with you—oh, or maybe I can get someone to enchant it so it talks back...
[ Now he's thinking ideas— ]
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