After playing around with the Captain's shield for a moment, Svante recoiled at something invisible and stared down the length of the alleyway. It was sufficient to draw the Captain's gaze down there as well, but he found it difficult to see anything.
"Sasha, incoming!"
It seemed like her brother's warning had been completely unnecessary. As a swarm of thrown knives came for her from the alleyway's end, Sasha proceeded to dodge half of them, reached into her boot mid-step and drew a short blade made of iridescent steel in a concealed sheath, and then batted a handful more out of the air, before Svante raised the Captain's shield and tossed it across the alleyway. It ricocheted off a wall and then seemed to hit their opponent, before bouncing right back, fortuitously close so the boy caught it once more.
"This is yours, sorry," he said, handing it back to Steve.
As if to excuse herself for the amazing feats of dodging and combat, in order to remain in-character with her Resplendent Destiny, Sasha looked at Captain Rogers and said, "I, uh, practice ballet."
"I played with a frisbee once," Svante also said. It'd be naturally apparent to anyone with more than a few brain cells that it takes more than playing with a frisbee once to expertly throw a Vibranium shield with so much strength and calculated prowess.
"Svante," Sasha growled in a whisper.
"Your excuse wasn't that good either," he whispered back, balefully.
"Ouch," a voice said comically, sounding relatively unhurt.
"Reveal yourself," Sasha commanded, returning her attention to the matter at hand and raising her knife into a defensive stance.
"I suppose we ought to."
A pair of men stepped out of the unnaturally thick shadows, both of them wearing dark cloaks.
The person standing on the left dropped his cloak to reveal himself as an old man with obsidian-dark skin and eyes of pure darkness, clad in a loose-fitting dark uniform. Around his chest, there were various straps filled across with throwing knives, a few daggers, and misshapen lumps of yellow crystal that radiated unholy power. As he smiled, a Caste Mark flared into existence around his forehead - a disk of pure black, so dark it hurt to look at, as if the darkness was more than a mere absence of light, but its existential antipode - anti-sunlight.
The person on the right did the same, revealing himself to be a youthful and stoic, pale-faced man with short dark hair. In contrast to his partner, he wore a suit of tight-fitting articulated plate armor, as black as his companion's skin and yet shimmering oddly in the light. Anyone with mystical senses would be able to discern the truth - its surface writhed with the stolen power of dead souls, poor tormented ghosts who'd been forcefully hammered into the shape of Soulsteel. Much the same applied to the cold, dark chains wrapped around his forearms, each link imprisoning a tortured spirit of a dead human. His Caste Mark was an empty wheel of matte black encircled by red; like blood circling rot.
"I suppose we might as well introduce ourselves. I am Masterful Staff," said the grinning man on the left. "I am an Infernal Exalt, Prince of the Green Sun, of the Fiend Caste - and proud servant and favored Chosen of the Ebon Dragon."
His partner decided to join the introduction, "I am Artisan of Blood in Seven Shades, Abyssal Exalt, Day Caste, and I can't believe you shit-talked the Mask of Winters in front of me."
"To be fair," Sasha replied, wincing, "I didn't know you were there. Svante, drop your Resplendent Destiny."
"Already done," Svante said, setting down into a martial arts form. "We'll apologize to the Pattern Spiders if we survive, I guess."
"I'm Sasha, Chosen of Journeys, but you probably knew that much already."
"I'm Svante. Yo."
"I suggest you stay out of this battle. It's a conflict between Yu-Shan and Malfeas, and none of your business," Masterful Staff said to the assembled group, as he reached to his belt and tossed down the misshapen yellow crystals - Yasal Crystals - onto the floor. All of them glowed with a pale light. "I unbind you from your crystals,
Blood Apes." Above each crystal, a demon appeared, each one resembling a hulking ape with dull red fur and horny bone protrusions along their back and on the crests of their head.
Masterful Staff instructed his follower, "Artisan, you handle the Chosen of Journeys. The boy is trained in the Violet Bier of Sorrows Style, so I'll kill him. And the rest of you, help us, and if it appears like the otherworlders, or Raksha, or whatever they are, plan to interfere, kill them. You can feast on anyone you defeat, but leave some flesh and blood for the Defilers to analyze."
As Svante commanded his Essence to rise, an imperceptible halo of violet energy floated around him, the Sign of Saturn unfolding on his forehead in a burst of shining radiance. As he moved his fists, they each left behind a crimson trail in their wake, as if holding the promises of blood yet unspilled. He was no longer a cheerful youth and traveler, but a Sidereal Exalt, and the Chosen of Endings.
"Blade of the Battle Maiden!"
In a burst of motion, Svante moved forward - Staff attempted to repel him, tossing out a flurry of knives, but Svante used his naked hands to parry them with flyswatter indolence, the roiling crimson nimbus covering his fists protecting them from developing even a scratch.
As the first Blood Ape came into range, Svante ducked low to avoid its ferocious hammer blow, then struck at the side of its chest with a thrusting motion, fist piercing yielding flesh to cause an eruption of blood and bone from the Blood Ape's back. The demon slumped over in death, as the rest of the Blood Apes reassessed their opponent and growled, attempting to surround him to the best of their ability.
At the same time, Sasha moved forward in a similar burst of speed as Svante, the air shimmering around her with the pale yellow radiance of the Maiden of Journeys, as she dodged and weaved between the Blood Apes, effortlessly evaded the Soulsteel Chains of Artisan, and sought a path to her target. It seemed, however, like the Blood Apes were closing in on her as well, reducing the distance that she could dodge to with each swipe of their hands.
@Noble Scion @littlekreen @Epiphany. @Wiggin @The Wanderer @Wade Von Doom @Valkan @LenxKaitoYaoi
Author's Note: Ordinarily, Exalted who conduct battle don't have to yell out the names of their Charms like Naruto characters. This is done largely for your own benefit because this universe (partially) runs on the
Rule of Cool as one of its core laws of physics. If it barely makes sense, but it's badass, it can happen - feel free to apply this yourself by doing absolutely ridiculous bullshit, like picking up a rusted pipe lying nearby and using it to briefly ward off rapid attacks with a sword, before thrusting into the open, screaming mouth of the assailant to shut him up.
