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Post by Deleted on Feb 19, 2017 6:27:53 GMT
Azalea was growing frustrated. She had a plan, and this was not it. This was foolish. Hoping her directions would allow him to strike an unseen foe in any meaningful manner was foolhardy when both their lives were on the line, as far as she was concerned. "I'll do as you say, but I don't agree with this plan. I'll admit, I intended to use you as bait. She'd pursue, believing you were defenseless, and then I'd be able to make a strike at point-blank range against a clear silhouette. Now she's aware you have some idea of her presence, due to the way you're orbiting her, and she's likely to be more evasive. I may not be a fighter, but I'm no fool."
"In addition, if we'd made it to the tower, then you'd have better than relying on my words to direct your spear. Instead, you'd have your own eyes: a far more reliable tool. Do you believe you can make a killing blow against an invisible foe with only my words to go by?"
If at any point the spirit charged, even as she spoke, or tried to engage with her body or blade, Azalea would utilize the months of paranoia and terror she lived in since her death, the anguish she'd felt when she'd lost the convoy in the Jiwa Desert to a similar spirit, and every negative emotion she'd felt due to the presence of spirits in the world, and their propensity for eating those such as her. She'd unleash those chain of memories, similar to the singular orbs of memory she'd used in the desert, but this time as a web of interconnected memories, tangled together by those same unnatural appendages as the first bore: like dark tendrils from the abyss mixed with the electrical impulses of the mind. - Was this truly what memories were made of? - They'd wrap around the spirit like an agonizing shock web, if aimed properly, until, like a well thrown bolas, she was secured in the web by the balls of her memories.
Then, to expedite the process of infusing the memories, they'd explode. The force would be immense as she was wrapped so thoroughly, assuming proper application, and the blast would certainly hurt, if not shatter her carapace, and injure her vulnerable joints. The memories would be like a torrential flood, hopefully overwhelming her, and giving Daniel the chance to strike a helpless foe, at Azalea's direction.
Otherwise, if the spirit did not close the distance, Azalea would bide her time until it was advantageous to initiate such an attack herself. If she was forced to attack, and the effect was minimal, she'd inform Daniel of her drained state, the state of their foe, and urge he utilize guerrilla tactics until she could recover.
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Post by Deleted on Feb 19, 2017 21:29:16 GMT
spirit sighting
"Taste the power of the sea." ➼ antagonistic roll ➼ rolled on mm/dd/2017 ➼ 433 words | The human seemed to disappear for a moment, before it reappeared in the Spirit's perception, this time holding something that sparked of magic in his hands. It was... it couldn't be... The Spirit looked at the artifact with revulsion. It was the Gáe Derg, one of the toys of the Huntress. That weapon had killed scores of her kin in the olden days, during the war. What was it doing back in the mortal plane? She would have to destroy the disgusting blight, and then become legendary herself. Yes, the Legendary Spirit who had destroyed the Gáe Derg. She liked the sound of that.
Shrieking a challenge, she sent stream after stream of water after the ghost and the attached human, her sword outstretched as she swept lower and prepared to cleave the human's head from his shoulders. Her sword arm had swung back before something unexpected happened. A bolt of energy burst forward from the ghost, slamming into her with the force of a wave upon a rock. Such pain... The Spirit had never experienced an attack like this, as if emotion itself was electricity, and she found that she couldn't move even if she wanted to. The memories were wrapping themselves around her, as if they had physical weight, and thrash as she may, she couldn't free herself from the viscous substance. It was in that moment that the energy erupted.
Her armor protected her from the majority of the blast, but pieces of the armor littered the ground below them as it broke off, and she found that she didn't have the strength to move. Her low hiss became a groan of pain, and she looked up with a cold glare at the ghost that had done this. Her thoughts were spinning with foreign memories, even now, and they were disorienting enough that she couldn't divide them from what was happening in front of her.
But that was the moment that the human struck, his spear finding the spot in her chest, the gap in the armor. Her blood was blue as it colored the accursed spear. The weapon stuck in the carapace of her back, but as her body began to shimmer, the weapon was released. She gave a last laugh, a wet laugh with the blood that clogged her throat, and she faded away as if she was made of mist. The water she'd controlled splashed back to the earth, and her chipped sword clattered to the ground, the only remnant of her existence. The barnacles coating the back end of it died and browned before their eyes.
((DM NOTES: Congratulations, the Spirit is dead. You may either keep the Gáe Derg or exchange it for an Event point. Please post once more to close.))
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PLAYED BY OOC NAME
PLAYED BY Subject D-2
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Post by Daniel Caim on Feb 22, 2017 2:09:55 GMT
“ The Righteous Side of Hell. Daniel suppressed the urge to growl at the revelation of Azalea’s plan to use him as bait. While he agreed with the method and thinking behind it, he couldn’t help but rail against the idea of being used in such a matter. It was bad enough that a god was bending him to his will and having some woman that he barely knew attempting to do the same was salt in the proverbial wound. He still had his pride after all. There wasn’t time to be focused on that however; there was still an enemy close at hand and she appeared to be moving closer. The vague area he knew to designate the spirit’s presence was dashing towards him at an alarming rate.He tried to gauge where the spirit’s chest was, but there was far too much guess work involved for his liking.
“Azalea, I need you to do something and I need it now!” It came as a pleasant surprise when he when a net of what looked like goo appeared with the spirit trapped in its grasps. He gritted his teeth against the stabbing pain he felt lancing into his ears. Whatever Azalea had done, it was more than a little painful for the spirit, and that was before the net exploded. He capitalized on the opening the attack left him and rose a few feet into the air before folding his wings and entering a controlled dive with his spear drawn back, ready to strike. The whispers spoke into head again, flooding his vision with the proper technique behind thrusting the weapon. He smiled in the moment before impact as he drove the spear into his opponent’s chest and drove her from the waves to the ground. The blade twisted in flesh as blue blood sprayed his face.
The hunter attempted to pull his weapon free for another strike but found that it stuck. He was about to draw his revolver and splatter his foe’s brains across the sand when she simply vanished in a cloud of mist, leaving only her sword as evidence she’d even existed. He stared blankly at the space the spirit had once occupied for several moments before a smile cracked his features. He started laughing at the exhilarating rush he felt. His hands were trembling—not from fear—but from the simple delight he felt. That fight had been his best in years!
“Hell of a job, Azalea!” Daniel shouted. “Now, let’s go check out that lighthouse.” He collected the cutlass as a trophy and alighted himself upon the winds, winging his way towards the lighthouse.
((OOC: I'll be keeping the Gae Derg for my own use.))
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Post by Deleted on Feb 22, 2017 2:31:42 GMT
Azalea was exhausted. She remembered how much a single moment in time had drained her. This was months: almost the entirety of her ghostly existence. A feeble, "'kay." was all she could muster. The exhaustion was sure to carry through her voice, but so too would the fact she smiled, if her companion knew how to tell.
They did it. They were alive. They did it! Had it not taken everything out of her, she'd be celebrating. As they flew across the sky towards the lighthouse that every fiber of her being still called towards, she'd be filled with a touch of guilt.
"I'm sorry," she'd pause for a moment as a revelation hit her. She'd chuckle weakly, too tired for a proper laugh. Her words were slow and ponderous, as if every one took considerable effort. She panted heavily as well, as if trying to catch a breath she did not have, "I just realized: I have no idea what your name is. I shouldn't have thought of using you as bait. It was just, in the moment, I wanted her to get close, but I didn't want to risk my own life."
She thought back to her past experience, "The last time I faced a spirit, I risked my life to save others. They died any way. This time, remembering the fear I felt that first time, and how effortlessly it killed an entire convoy of people, I couldn't imagine that we'd do anything but die. Honestly, I still haven't quite processed the reality of what happened. Everything feels surreal."
She'd said quite enough, and with that she'd return to resting.
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