==========================
Madelon Vallois &
Caelen Lughr
As Madelon was pulled along, she managed to muster a tiny smile. "I don't suppose you 'ave 'anozer knife?" she asked.
Well she wasn't fighting him at the least. Still… did he have another knife? He patted around for a moment before he felt the multi-tool in its sheathe and frowned. "It's got a knife?" He offered with a small shrug, as he tapped at the sheathe hooked to his belt.
Madelon blinked at the multi-tool, barely able to make it out under the illumination of her glow. She reached out to take it, carefully feeling at the various tools to make sure didn't cut herself or pull out a bottle opener instead. Unfolding the tiny knife, she ultimately didn't feel all that much safer or hopeful. Frowning, she kept on regardless.
"What are we going to do? Stab it?" she said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
The click told him she had found the knife, and he spared her a glance at the sarcasm in her tone. "Well, it's better than before I guess," he remarked vaguely before he shook the hand that held hers. "Should probably not try this connected by the arms, but yes, that's the general idea." If she thought he was being sarcastic, a quick glance would reveal that he seemed to be dead serious. He was going to try and make whatever these things work for it, but that didn't mean he actually had a grand plan for it.
With that said, he refocused on the red pair of eyes that were closer than ever before now. Seemed like there wasn't much more time for snark and sarcasm.
Madelon quickly retracted her hand, seeming a tad more embarrassed by the action. She looked down at the knife, as if surmising its usefulness, before glancing up at the eyes they approached. Were they really about to try stabbing something clearly dangerous? If they got closer, would they even see anything besides an invisible entity? Madelon gripped the knife with an audible tension.
As the two approached, those red eyes sped up as well, as if invigorated by the courage that they displayed. The screech of blades against whetstones resounded more sharply, more frantically now, until that dissonant din was all they could hear.
Which made the sudden silence all the more surprising.
In the span of a breath, the red orbs dove down, sliding until it was almost level with Caelan's feet before closing the remaining distance. It swung right back up then, rising to a height three feet above the blue-haired ex-operator, before it remained, unmoving.
The silence within the abyss remained, unbroken.
Madelon stopped in her tracks as it sped up, knife extended haphazardly before as if she truly had the resolve to stab at something so tall… and wholly black. With a shaky hand, she held it out, pointed up towards those red eyes.
His hairs stood on end as the sound intensified to an unholy din that would have drove him insane if he'd been forced to listen to it. The sudden silence registered, but the sudden movement was what truly had his focus. A foot slid backwards as the orbs dipped low and he fought the urge to make a swipe as they passed by just in front of him, rising up to stop above them.
Glancing at Madelon, he shifted his stance so he was sideways to the eyes before them. Frowning as he squashed the urge to not look away, his eyes flicked to look behind the two of them, searching for the other pair of eyes. Surprise and uncertainty dulled the intense impulses, and he couldn't help but mutter, "Well then…" Optimistic and hopeful? Hell no, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
The other side of red eyes was not difficult at all to track down. It remained where it was, standing off in the distance, those bobbing eyes now as still as the tall being before them. The light that they gave off could not penetrate the darkness that shrouded the being, but at the same time, it didn't seem to move at all, whatever it dragged alongside it now no longer scraping against the ground.
Or, perhaps, it had lifted those appendages upwards?
In the uniform blackness of the space around her, Madelon could not make out the seven thin blades that slowly dropped down from above her. No, she was transfixed by those red orbs, and by the thin, throaty whisper that seemed to crawl out of it.
"...bereaved and beloved…"
But Caelan, his eyes flickering back and forth, would see the shadows that encroached on her shining form, descending lower and lower.
Eye level.
Chin level.
Shoulder level.
Madelon stayed put, certainly not the one who would lunge out first and get a stab at the motionless creature. Arm still raised in defense, she kept her gaze trained directly on the swinging red orbs of its 'eyes', watching carefully for any sudden shifts or indications of sinister approach. The fact that it spoke in cryptic, human words only worried her more. If anything, it being silent would have made her feel less confused about the whole situation.
Caelan's grip tightened as he finally noticed the needles that encircled Madelon, too late as they already surrounded the shining girl. His eyes flicked towards the red orbs above as he debated on the right course. Strike at the needles and hope that it pulled back in pain, or aim for its "head"? Gritting his teeth, he made his choice and lunged forward as he swung his knife in a wide arc, bringing the edge across three of the needle-like blades in front of Madelon.
The blow struck true, a crystalline ring resounding through the empty space. Accompanying that strike was the sound of something clattering against the black ground, skidding off in the distance.
It had struck true, but silhouetting against Madelon's radiance was not the severed shadows of needle-blades. It was the image of Caelan's own knife, shattered. The monster's appendages hadn't given an inch, hadn't stopped lowering.
Chest level.
Waist level.
Its attention, however, had turned. Sharpened. Focused. And though it had no pupils to signify where it was looking, the blue-haired youth could feel it now, the pressure of an unknown predator locking in on him.
Caelan felt a pit in his stomach form as his hand stung from the powerful blow, but it was not the pain that made him uneasy. It was the feeling of the knife in hand, straining as he pushed it to cut through and unable to do so. It built and built until suddenly he was swinging through, yet he knew it wasn't because he had managed a successful cut.
The clitter clatter as whatever broken pieces landed on the ground sounded far louder in the otherwise perfect silence, and he growled, "Of course." Yet for all the intensity of its focus, now directed at him, it refused to leave Madelon alone. Something cracked as he gripped the ruined knife's handle all the harder. The jagged edge and webbed cracks in the metal made him feel flushed as he raised at up and stabbed it down at one of the black needles again.
A second strike, and this time, metal shards broke right off, a flash of sparks temporarily lighting up the darkness. And still, there was no effect. No narrowing of those orbs. No eldritch screech of pain. Nothing but silence.
Caelan didn't even hear it as its second set of claws emerged from the darkness, slapping him away like an annoying pest.
Chips and shards broke off the badly damaged knife, and the warmth seemed to wrap around Caelan. For all the good it did though, as nothing seemed to have changed. The black needles remained unscathed and unmoved. The red orbs did not deign to even shift in reaction, but he nonetheless sensed danger.
The raised arm did little but give way with a sharp crack before whatever hit Caelan lifted him off the ground and tossed him aside. The only other sound was a sharp gasp from him as a rush of adrenaline slammed through his veins anew, and the dull thud that he made when he hit the ground. One tumble, a second, and then he managed to catch himself with the arm that wasn't broken, what was left of the knife scraping over the black surface they stood on. His head snapped upwards, fighting through a pain that dulled quickly, and he looked at the orbs that were now about a dozen meters or so.
The sound of ringing metal was all that Madelon needed to break, and she swung out with a light growl, no longer satisfied with simply standing by as the creature stared her down. Taking little notice of the fact that what had happened was to her own benefit, the girl's own minuscule weapon struck against something unseen before the point could close much distance. Swinging far less strenuously than Caelan, the knife did not have enough force behind it to break against the needles, stopping short against something Madelon could not see.
She paused, blinking, and retracted the knife. It was chipped, and a gaze into the darkness just before her illuminated nothing out of the ordinary. The sound of a dull thud and gasp turned her attention, and what had initially become a distilled fear as the creature yet still did not harm her became full blown terror. Caelan had been thrown, that much was certain. And by what other than the entity before her?
Madelon grit her teeth and took a step back, knife outstretched once more.
"A-are you okay?!" she called out to the boy.
@Zombehs @Asuras
It turned to ash.
Within the palm of his right hand, slick from sweat, the knife dissolved, reduced to flaky ashes that caked his hand with soot. He could hear it rushing through his veins now, his blood evaporating, turning into pure flame.
A god of fire was rising from the depths of his soul, a merciless deity of war that demanded further sacrifice, further tribute, further offerings.
Further destruction.
Another light finally pierced the darkness, a wrathful torrent of red flames, arising from Caelan's body. An aura that provided such wonderous warmth, and yet, like an addiction, only made him desire indulgence further. The fire god, the primordial symbol of destruction granted him its boon within the lightless abyss, but at the same time, it demanded more than just the destruction of a tool.
In the face of such grand blessings, Caelan made his decision.
His broken left arm blackened, crackled, and disappeared, blown away by the hot winds, and the flaming aura doubled.
In the face of such violent brilliance, Madelon's own light shrunk, a chill spreading through her very limbs. A dark fear began to drill into the back of her brain.
A fear of that fiery fiend.
@Jageroux @Jakers @Random
The mist continued to grow, that damp sensation growing, becoming more and more unpleasant as the ticks continued onwards. And nothing truly impeded their march towards the obelisk. Casting away the whispers in the wind as illusions, the trio resolutely continued, until they stood before grand obelisk a second time.
The last time they were present, they had lost their lives, turned into sacks of meat by the blackbird with the Contender.
But this time, there was no such individual to greet them. Just the tranquil, eerie silence that continued to hang over the ghostly area. The tall pillars around them remained imposing, yet unmoving. The mist never rose, nor did it lower. Their feet just remained chilled to the very, very bone.
The trio had made it to the black obelisk, the 'clocktower' that had been stained so deeply with their blood.
A single phrase was scratched into the otherwise flawless obsidian surface.
Reverence Begets Revelry
@Click This
Heidemarie jumped.
She jumped into the emptiness, and she
fell.
Like her vision, she plummeted and plummeted, falling farther and farther away from the heavens as gray hands chased after her.
As her brother's hand reached out, to save her from being dashed against the earth.
She took that hand into her own, feeling the coldness of death.
The gray sun pulled her in, consuming her entirety.[/hr][/hr]
