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Thread: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

  1. #1
    The destroyer of worlds Elite Trainer
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    Default Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    In the beginning, the gods took the ten elements that made up the earth, and from them bore ten entities of light, the Scions. These beings possessed greater strength and magicks beyond that of the fledgling race known as Humanity. In fact, the Scions were created to act as the caretakers of humanity. These divine beings would nurture the race, help them grow and thrive in the world that was formed for them.

    However, where there is light, there must be darkness. When the Scions were born, from their shadows arose another set of beings, entities of darkness that shared the strength and power of the Scions. As the originals were the Scions of Light, these new beings were the Scoins of Darkness.

    The gods did not know what to do with their dark children at first. But then, a task was devised. While the Scions of Light would nurture Humanity, the Scions of Darkness would protect them from the evils of the world, taking them into themselves so spare their siblings of light and Humanity from them. And for that, they would be admired and praised for their sacrifice.

    However, feared by Humanity, and scorned by the Scions of Light for their impurity, the Scions of Darkness looked to the gods with vengeful eyes, feeling betrayed and tormented, after their ‘noble’ sacrifice. Seeking revenge, the children of darkness raged war against their creators, only to be stopped and subdued by their light brethren.

    After the battle was one, the Scions of Light felt pity on their mistreated brethren. Instead of killing them, they contained their spirits in the bodies of humans, so that they could experience the nurturing care that they brought to humanity. However, to the children of darkness, this was an act of humiliation, to force them to be lower than then, to be lorded over by them. And so, despite their human forms, they waged a second rebellion against the gods. The Scions of Light vanquished their dark brethren, only realising soon after their destruction, they their souls will continue on, being reborn into humans over and over again. In order to prevent this, the Scions of Light too took to human bodies, and throughout the centuries were reborn again and again, keeping an ever watchful eye on their condemned siblings.

    Now, years later. In the modern day of man, a bright comit soared over the skies of man. This comet, while bringing a pleasant sight to all those that see it, also brought something else. One by one, the memories and powers of the entrapped Scions of Darkness were unlocked. The rage and hatred that they had long since forgotten was rekindled

    The war that had occurred at the dawn of humanity, was about to begin again.


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    +==The Beginning==+

    It was a calm, peaceful night in the city of Saint Tesara. The streets were bustling with the people of the night life, but over all it was a nice, calm evening. No major catastrophes or anything. It was just an average night in the bustling in the island city.

    However, things would take a very interesting turn tonight, when the sky was lit up by a bright light. Normally the bright city lights prevented the stars from being visible, butthey didn't have any effect on this. A bright, magnificent comet soared through the sky, leaving a dazling trail behind it. People stopped and looked skyward, marvelling the rare lightshow that the night was giving them. Truly something they never expected to see here in this bustling metropolis.

    However, little did the people know, this comet brought more than just a beautiful sight to the city. It would bring back a conflict that began at the dawn of their existance. A conflict that would shake this city, and perhaps the entire world, down to its very core.

    +==Xavier Fynch==+

    The sickly young man tossed and turned in his bed. Unlike most of the city, he wasn't watching the comet, having retired early due to his illness. However, as the comet soared overheard, Xavier's mind suddenly found itself under terrible assault.

    His eyes clenched shut, his grabbed his head as his mind was bombarded with images. Visions of sickness and death, over and over again. Memories of lives past that were not his own. Or were they? They came through so clearly, seemed so familiar. The pain of these memories wracked at his mind and body.

    Then he remembered back even further. To a time of conflict, against creatures not of this world. Fire, lightning, darkess, light, among many others flashing across the sky. Yet over this, pain, poison, and illness pervayed. The terrible illness. He remembered it ravaging his body, twisting him into a hideous monstrosity, one reviled and despised. Tears of misery leacked from Xavier's eyes as his teeth clenched in an undying rage.

    What is this? What is all this? Why am I seeing these thing? WHY!?

    Finally, he saw them, beings of great divinity. Yet when these beings appeared in his mind, Xavier felt only rage and hatred, a hatred that could shatter the very world itself.

    And with that final explosion of memory, Xavier's eyes flew open. Everything was now clear to him. He knew exactly who he was, who he REALLY was.

    Zedonas the Plague...

    Alrighty folks, time to get this thing rolling. All the Scions of Darkness, start regaining your memories. All the Scions of Light...carry on with what you're doing. Sorry the openning's so short.
    I'm in your dimensions, screwing with your reality!

  2. #2
    Written Into A Corner... Cool Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    /\/\/ Dylan Merrimack /\/\/

    One could call him the typical working man, without exaggeration. He paid his bills, he submitted his taxes ahead of time - and on the occasion, he would help his landlady renovate the 2-story duplex he shared with her. It was a modest affair and he knew (as she probably did) that the place would never really come around to looking beyond mediocre... and any other time, he might have been content to just leave it alone and accept it, but there was something about Mrs. Grady's tenacity that he found inspiring. There wasn't an ounce of apathy within her. The silver-haired raven might be taken as a kindly, harmless old woman by anyone else, but he had lived here long enough to know she was tough as nails and would not let something go unfinished.

    Tonight, though, she was out of town. Family reunion or some such. Whatever. Dylan wasn't terribly bothered by this one way or another, but the place did get lonely when he didn't hear any activity on the first floor. And so instead of listening to the deafening sound of silence inside, he sat out on what he could laughingly refer to as "the balcony" - essentially a wood-plank platform with a staircase leading up to a screen door in the back of his apartment - and drained a nondescript beer.

    He sighed, stood up, and set the bottle down next to the row of three that had already gathered on the rail. He crossed his arms atop the rail next to the line he had created and leaned down, content to stare at the ground some distance below and consider the grass down there. It was in less than stellar condition, yellowing out and choked by weeds. Mrs. Grady had never asked him to tend to the lawn, though he knew he could if he were motivated to.

    But as with so many others, that idea tended to wane and vanish, leaving him only with the ghost of a hope that he could amount to much more than he was.

    And what am I, anyway? he wondered idly. His hazy vision passed over his tanned arms and his stained T-shirt - he had forgotten to do his laundry. Again. Filthy, that's what I am. Good god.

    But before he could turn around to go inside, something out of the corner of his eye began to draw his attention. A strange light overhead... some odd glimmering effect that he could hardly attribute to the cityglow of the evening. He looked up in curiosity.

    Hanging in the sky was quite possibly one of the most beautiful and terrifying things he had ever seen. It could only be a comet, but to see one so near was to be practically in its path - and he knew enough astronomy to know if he was seeing such a phenomenon now, and if it was coming right at him, there would be no escaping it, no matter what he did.

    But no - the brilliant stellar object was not content to obliterate him then and there. Rather than rocket into his duplex and leave nothing but an ashen crater, it streaked across the night sky with far greater speed than it should have... and, it seemed it defy the Earth's gravity as it moved. For all Dylan knew, it was an optical illusion, but it almost seemed to arc upwards, as though narrowly - and purposely - avoiding collision with the ground.

    But now he had looked upon it for too long. His eyes were dazzled and his ears roared, senses assaulted by--

    No, it couldn't be the comet that was doing this, because now his mind was flooding through with strange, twisted images. Picture frames crashed through his mind, one after another after another, with the most brilliant contrast imaginable - enough to tell him that it was not merely his imagination producing such anomalies in his own thinking. A gathering of... of monstrous, hideous people. Gathered against those that had slighted them, preparing to take the world as their own and fight back against their creators.

    No sooner had the understanding dawned upon him than his back spasmed uncontrollably, causing him to arch backward so far that his vertebrae crackled with the exertion. He tried to cry out, but all that came out was stunted gibberish through his own wobbling cheeks, clacking teeth, and wagging tongue.

    It was as though he were being struck by a bolt of lightning.

    He collapsed to the ground, and control of his limbs returned to him. Almost by instinct, he curled all of them to him in the tightest fetal position he could manage. His entire body shuddered.

    He remembered.

    He remembered.

    They had taken his life from him twice before... but now, Moshinas the Thunder lived again.

  3. #3
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    The cathedral was empty, even the priest had gone out to witness the comet. Claire had stayed inside; original she had been out in the night, watching the sky with the rest. But as her eyes stared at the tail of the comet, she had felt strange. Her attention had drifted to this holy place. She had hurried inside, paying no mind to the collared man stepping outside to view the phenomena.

    Her head didn’t hurt per say nor did her body, something deeper did. It twisted in her, forcing her to drop to a knee before the mighty cross on the wall. Trying to fight whatever had come over her, she heard her neck crack as her head was raised to stare at the golden cross. Candles were lit all around it, with the figure of Jesus carved beautifully. Her eyes watered, unable to blink, unable to do anything but feel an essence crawl slowly up her spine and into her mind.

    “Me phobeou eme, Claire, se ger kai ego esmen he aute."

    The voice was hers but it was different. Like she had been alive for ages past, and was far more experienced then the young woman could ever be.

    Claire’s world faded to darkness and Nazara’s world erupted into light. She blinked slowly; the girl’s pained expression turning that to of cold-neutrality. It took a moment for the scion to realize she was staring at the cross. She hadn’t expected the transition to be so easy.

    She shrugged off the residual pain and bowed her head to the figure.

    “Deus meus, ex toto corde paenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum,
    eaque detestor, quia peccando,
    non solum poenas a te iuste statutas promeritus sum,
    sed praesertim quia offendi te,
    summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris.
    Ideo firmiter propono,
    adiuvante gratia tua,
    de cetero me non peccatorum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum.

    Standing, she heard someone enter and turned. The priest was looking at her, a smie on his face, he nodded to her. Nazara nodded back, going back to the massive cross.

    “Do you need something child?” His voice was shaky from his age. “The cathedral is closed due to renovations, I’m afraid.”

    “You…” Nazara trailed off, letting her voice go shaky. “You wouldn’t happen to have a spare room? M-my family and I… we had a falling out and…” She hung her head, frowning at the floor. “This was the first place in my mind to go too.”

    “There’s a women’s shelter just down the-“

    “No, they’ll look there…” Nazara smiled weakly. “I really, just want to stay here…”

    He was quiet for a moment, his smile fading as he thought. The man turned from her, heading to the podium to think. Glancing at her warily, he nodded. “There is a room, it’s a bit dusty from neglect, but it has a bed.”

    The scion smiled. “Thank you Father, you’re very kind.” She moved for the door. “I’ll be back, I just need to grab a few things.”

    “Of course.”

    Slipping outside the cathedral, Nazara looked back up at the darkening sky, a small smirk playing on her lips.

  4. #4
    ~HOPES AND DREAMS~ Elite Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Name: Aeryn McFallon

    True Name: Saighneán the Skyfire Mistress

    Age: 19

    Gender: Female

    Element: Electricity

    Light or Darkness: Light

    Appearance: Medium length black hair, blue gray eyes. About 5'8" with a slim but muscular body structure. Her mother was Japanese and her father was Irish so she looks like a mix between the two. Despite this and some of the cultural things she shares with her parents she is all american lol

    Appearance (Scoin):

    Clothing and Gear: . Likes to wear shirts that show her stomach, and flare jeans or medium length shorts with japanese style sandals. Has her white and gray striped cat Sushi with her always.

    Personality: Optimistic and uplifting, she always has a song in her mind. Loves to sing as loud as she wants reguardless of whos around. Has a melodic voice that reminds people of a sweet summer day, the warm sun and a cool breeze. She feels emotions strongly, and sometimes the air around her becomes charged with electricity because of it
    (a warm buzzing feeling in those around her if shes happy or excited and a tense staticy feeling when shes pensive or upset) Likes her life to be well ordered and peaceful and when its not, it unbalances her completely. When shes stressed she gets moody and withdrawn, choosing to avoid her friends rather than let them see her in that state. Has a temper if she feels she is being held down or made to do things she deems pointless or not necissary. Likes her freedom ^v^

    History: She grew up on a quiet suburban street, enjoying what some would call the good life. Her parents werent rich, but they were still very well off, but despite this she didnt grow up spoiled. Her parents both came from poor families, and, not wanting to raise a child that took things for granted, made her work for everything she has. Because of this she gets slightly embarrassed when people see how well off they are, she doesnt like feeling like people will treat her differently for it..

    She enjoys using her powers but mostly just uses it on instinct. Because of its potentially harmful nature to humans, she doesnt really practice shooting bolts of electricity at things, and shes not much into technology because she tends to break it with the static. Likes to use it to pick up radio stations in her mind though lol When she sings to her its an emotional thing, she FEELS the music.Singing thrills her as much as thunderstorms.

    Shes not the type who shoves singing in other peoples face or thinks she is the best singer ever, she just feels good when she sings so she does it. It makes her feel at peace with the world, when she sings outside it makes her feel attuned to nature.Is currently attending the local state college, in which she is majoring in animal care/veterinary studies.

    Weapon(s): An ornate metal staff, and metal throwing knives.

    Abilities: Electricity can crackle around her, she can shoot it but its most of the time like an aura, where it will AOE around her. Mainly uses it defensively.

    Signature Magick: Basically describe your signature attack

    Talents: Electricity manipulation, can sing well, knows some martial arts and just plain brawling if need be, and she likes to cook.

    Relations: Open!!!

    Other: She loves cats and the cats seem to like the static electricty that comes from her petting their fur. A lot of her shirts tend to have something called the 'sushi neko' on them

    ~~Aeryn McFallon~~

    I knew who I was.

    I didn't go through my life feeling like I was different, only to suddenly gain fantastic powers out of nowhere. I wasn't bored with my normal life, praying and wishing for one big event to change everything into an exciting adventure, shaking up my whole world and injecting conflict into an otherwise dull existence. No, for me it was quite the opposite.

    I was tired.

    I knew what I really was. I knew what I was capable of. And I knew what I had done. And quite frankly, I was sick of it. I knew what my purpose was, I have known ever since I was a baby. Could you imagine remembering all your countless lives, all the people you loved and lost, all the pain, strife, joy and sorrow that comes with it? Could you imagine watching the world age as you did, in a much longer and slower lifespan yes, but still growing even as the people, the players on the stage of life, made the same mistakes as the ones who came before them?

    I did. I remembered it all. I remembered Them, too, and how it was my job to watch them. It was because of them that I had to enter each life as a human child, grow, wither, and die, only to be spit back upon the world and start over. I didn't get the decency of rest after one dies, no, for my job was not over. As long as They walked the earth, it never would be.

    Don't get me wrong, I wasn't what the kids in this century called "Emo". I loved my human life, I had loved them all. Humans were such beautiful creatures, with simple beliefs and common desires. There was always the wild cards which caused much of the human suffering on this planet, yes, but despite that there was the human joy of being alive. I loved being a human, and if I had my way, I would enjoy and appreciate every human experience they all take for granted. But my sense of duty, despite my weariness, was strong. I lived my life with an ever watchful eye on Those Who Were Cast Down.

    And it seemed, in this century, I would see it was finally for a reason, as a strange comet approached Earth. I could tell it wasn't normal, and I felt a change in the Electromagnetic spectrum. It was happening, what the Light Scions had watched for for centuries. What I wearied of more than anything was upon us once again.



    First posttt~~~ Tag anyone lol
    Last edited by Asilynne; 3rd January 2012 at 10:12 PM.

    .: Ben + Brandy :.
    .: September 14th 2012 :.

  5. #5
    A serious brain-f*** Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Human Name: Karik Mason
    True Name: Fenrir
    Age: 27
    Gender: Male
    Element: Fire
    Light or Darkness: Darkness

    Appearance (Human): He is usually seen in a white t-shirt / dark jeans combination. There is a scar on the back of his right shoulder though he won't say where he got it from. His eyes are the colour of light hazel. His height is 6'3".

    Appearance (Scion):

    Personality: In contrast to the shy and sensible Karik, Fenrir is arrogant and rash. He acts on impulse and believes himself capable of anything. If he wants something he’ll take it, regardless of whether that something is an object or a person. He is merciless, especially in battle, and actually enjoys humiliating defeated opponents. He speaks what he thinks and doesn’t care for the consequences. He loves to cause chaos and disruption and will go out of his way just to make life a little more unpleasant for the people around him. For obvious reasons he hates it when it rains.

    Weapon(s): Just his bare hands. Usually whilst they’re on fire.

    Abilities: Fenrir cannot create fire he can only manipulate it through touch. Any flames that he has manipulated retain their form after contact until they encounter a target, run out of fuel, or are extinguished by water or strong winds. Any manipulated fire that he is still in contact with will not run out of fuel and cannot be extinguished by wind, only water. He is essentially fireproof and can extend this aspect to anyone or anything that he is in physical contact with. For laughs, he likes to manipulate fire horses and ride them through populated areas.

    Signature Magick: Fury of the Pack – Fenrir manipulates the fire into a pack of wolves. Unlike his usual manipulations, these wolves will never run out of fuel, cannot be extinguished by wind and will regain their wolf form should they encounter a physical object. Water is the only thing that can stop them. This move requires a large fire to begin with (an entire tower block would probably be the minimum blaze size with which he could pull this off). The size of the pack created is relative to the size of the blaze. Given the modern methods of fire prevention and control, the chances of him actually being able to use this move are slim.

    History: Born from the shadow of the Light Fire scion, Fenrir became a vessel for the dark fires of human nature: lust and rage. Over time he was consumed by them and they became the leading factors behind all of his decisions. Because of this, it was easy for Nazara to convince him to join the first rebellion, turning his never-ending rage against his creators. Following its failure, Fenrir decided to stay out of the second rebellion, predicting its failure. Instead, he turned his rage on the humans, carrying out a quest of anarchy based on the age-old tactic of raping and pillaging. It was during this time that he discovered the love of chaos so prevalent in his personality. With the light scions distracted by the rebellion he was able to bring much misery to the human race before finally being defeated. Reawakened by the comet, he’s more interested in bringing an end to humanity than the ones responsible for his creation.

    Karik is the only son of working class parents. He scraped his way through high school and got a job as an office slave in a town as far away as possible. Over the years he has watched numerous promotion attempts pass him by because his poor background in education has the office staff looking down on him. He has secretly been in love with Tessa since she started working there four years earlier. He makes just enough money to support himself whilst being able to go out on the odd occasion but his social circle is very small, limited to a few people he randomly met over the years.

    Relations: Has a lot of respect for Nazara after her attempt at leading the first rebellion but is sceptical of following her into battle again. Looks on Zedona with disdain, considering the frail scion to be inferior and generally weak.

    Other: None.

    Karik / Fenrir

    As most of the city ventured out into the night to witness the dazzling nighttime intruder, Karik remained at his desk. Passed out in his poorly lit one-bedroom apartment, the young man had no idea what had transpired in that silent night sky, nor what it meant.

    At least, not until the dreams started.

    It started with a glow, an orange light at the edge of vision that danced and flickered. He tried to ignore it and focus instead on the blurred figures in the distance but he couldn't. The orange spread over his vision, darkening to firey red that blazed before him. Against the flames, scenes began to play out. Countless deaths took place before him, not just his but those of others as well, deaths caused by his own hands.

    Memories...My memories. Memories of lives lived long ago.

    Then he saw them. The Scions of Light, his captors, jailers, and he remember his hate, his rage. But not towards them - no, not them. They remembered the task of their dark counterparts, acknowledged it even. It was the humans. The roaches they were put in place to babysit. How happy they had been to indulge in their dark impulses, to put all that weight on him and his kind. And for what? To turn on them for their task, to look on them with disdain, hatred, fear. Oh he would give them something to fear. If they wanted a monster then they were going to get it. The world was going to burn, and he, Fenrir, would be the one responsible for the spark.

    Coming up later, death and destruction, mwahahahahaha!

    One signature.
    Experience preferred although training will be provided.
    Witty slogans only, please.

    Imooto-deshi says:

  6. #6
    Rl #32:Enjoy The Little Things Master Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Chronos (AKA Tellus)

    “Terra Unda!” Chronos shouted as he used his maul to send the earth shockwave into the battlefield.

    “Fury of the Pack,” Fenrir said while unleashing the blazing wolves to hunt his prey.

    Both techniques made a collision that sent an impact to both of the Scions, sending them flying back and landing with a loud crash. They both took substantial damage, but their pride was not affected, so they both looked at the giant dust cloud created by the collision while getting up.

    Fenrir saw Chronos’ Battle Maul flying in the air. If the heavy hammer was flying, thenhe knew that Chronos had undoubtedly taken substantial damage. Plus his wolves would not be extinguished by ground attacks, so they would be hitting him while he was on the ground. He grinned as he realized that he had gained the upper hand…

    …or so he thought.

    He heard one of his wolves whine in pain. “What the…?” his vision was focused into the dust created by both magicks. He could not see what was happening. “Did he survive?” He pondered.

    He looked up again; the Battle Maul was falling down... then it suddenly vanished. “What?” He wondered why it happened. But as he muttered those words…

    “Take this!”

    Chronos dealt damage with his flanged mace. He had switched weapons right before attacking, and it was enough to distract Fenrir. His skull belt cracked… then the stomach pain… two of his hands moved in reflex into his stomach. He fell on his knees…

    Chronos took the chance to change to his Battle Maul. The wolves were coming…

    Chronos jumped! Though he could not jump really high, it was enough to evade the pack. He prepared his Maul to hit Fenrir right from above…

    He missed him.

    He landed a hit, but not on him. She was standing there, protecting Fenrir. She fell onto the floor, badly injured.

    Chronos could not believe he'd hurt her. He was in shock. Fenrir was also surprised at first, but then gained composure. He jumped while closing his fists and pummeled Chronos with a devastating blow. Chronos was distracted, so this attack took him by surprise, sending him face first into the ground. He wasn’t focused on the battle anymore, and thus took the hit entirely. Fenrir had won, so he left him to battle the other Scions.

    He used a bit of his strength to approach her and hold her in his hands. His physical pain was great, but his emotional pain was even greater, as he realized he'd hurt the one he loved.

    Her hand grasped his face and then fell…


    Tellus awoke in a state of agitation. With cold sweat covering his human body, his heart beating at a greater speed than usual, his brown skin now turning a bit pale, and his mind remembering the last images of that faithful day, he rose up from his bed. “Again…” He thought as he recalled the many times he’s had the same dream.

    He went to the bathroom to clean his face. His reflection on the mirror showed signs of uneasiness, but after he washed his face, he began to regain his color again. While drying his face with a towel, he wondered what time was now, so he proceeded to get out of the bathroom to check his cell phone. It was 8:02pm.
    “Hmm, 4 hours…” he thought at the time he took in his nap. His part-time job kept him busy today, and his body asked for some rest after he was done. But this quickly was dismissed by the recurring images of the nightmare flowing through his mind. He needed to catch some air, so he proceeded to open his small casement window and look at his surroundings.

    It was another quiet night in the outskirts of Saint Tesara, with only one or two cars passing every 15 minutes. Tellus preferred quiet places, so the outskirts of the city were good for him, plus the rent was cheap.

    However, he noticed some of the people passing by pointing at the sky. His gaze moved in the direction of the fingers. His eyes caught sight of a fuzzy coma and then, of the solar body passing by the atmosphere. The comet passed by just like a celebrity, drawing the attention of all the people who could look at the heavens. Even Chronos had to admit that it was a beautiful sight to behold. “Newspapers will have a front page tomorrow” he thought as he closed the window.

    Returning to his bed once again, he gazed at the roof while having many thoughts on his mind… How were the other Scions doing? How were the Dark Scions behaving? And then…. The images appeared once again…

    “This is going to be another long night” He sighed.

    Optimist award 2012.

    “There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.” (Linda Grayson)

    Thank you everyone... for being so kind and for bringing out the best in me! You are definitely awesome! ^_^

  7. #7
    You crook! Ya CRIMINAL!! Veteran Trainer
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    The Universe - 46 degrees north, 8 trillion degrees west

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Saint Tesara...

    Yes, the city of Saint Tesara WAS a bustling one, like a tropical New York. Brightly lit skyscrapers outshone the stars and blocked the low-hanging Moon, and the wind and the sounds of nature were obstructed by the deafening cacophany of car horns, footsteps, and voices in the streets.

    But on the outskirts of the city, near where the Brunson River emptied into the ocean, things couldn't be more different... The residual light of the city illuminated an otherwise-dark shoreline like the Sun itself. The running water saw almost no human life most days, and was instead populated by fish and the creatures that lived off of them. Various wading birds, deer, and even the occasional bear weren't uncommon sights.

    It was a place of tranquility... The place that he called home.

    He stalked silently through the shallower end of the river, his feet bare and his pants rolled up above his knees. His eyes darted around wildly, methodically, watching for any sign of movement in the water. In one hand, held over his head, was a wooden stick with some sort of metallic barb tied to the end. In his other hand, slung around his shoulder, was an empty 5-gallon bucket.

    'Steady...' he thought, being as still as he could be.

    After a few moments, a small fish further upstream neared one of his legs.


    The barbed staff came down like a guillotine, skewering the fish through the back. Its catcher finally allowed himself a deep breath as he raised his prize from the water and inspected it. Decent size, clear eyes, brightly-colored gills... Dinner was served.

    The unorthodox fisher removed the fish from his makeshift spear, but a sudden burst of light overhead suddenly diverted his attention from his meal. He looked up, eyes wide, as something bluish-white in color streaked through the sky overhead.

    'A comet...?' he thought. 'I've not heard anything in the media about-'


    The fish wriggling from his hand and falling back into the river snapped the man from his thoughts. He looked down for the creature, attempting to recatch it, but it was already gone. His stomach let out an unhappy growl.

    "Damn it...!" he hissed, glaring back up at the fading glow in the sky.

    '........van........ Ivan...........'

    Someone calling his name was enough to snap the man - Ivan Fostovok - out of his annoyance and look around himself. He tossed his empty bucket aside and leveled his fishing tool like a weapon.

    "Who is that?" Ivan demanded, his hunger immediately vanishing from his mind. "Who called me?"

    He was met with silence. The voice didn't reply, even after further instruction for an answer. Every noise for several more minutes - a stick falling into the river, a frog croaking, Ivan's bucket rolling along the bank - got a spear pointed at it, but Ivan's name was not called again. He finally let himself lower his walking stick.

    'Police, perhaps...' he thought, recalling a few days earlier when he'd been nearly arrested for bathing himself in what he now knew was a duck pond. That was why he was foraging out in the boonies for food again, for the time being.

    In all truth, something in his gut told Ivan that it wasn't the police after him again, but despite Ivan wanting to mull it over a bit more, said gut let out another, louder rumble, driving home his previous point. His mood even worse than it had been before, Ivan sat on a rock and dried his feet, then put his boots back on and began to hike further up the river in search of another meal.


    (Nintendo) 4 Lyfe

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  8. #8
    Hardcore Casual Gamer Cool Trainer
    Cool Trainer
    DivineAll's Avatar
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    Jan 2009
    Seattle, WA

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)



    Drake came outside his small beach house casually drinking a large glass of his favorite iced tea. To him, as Graxdon, this had become tradition whenever he became "awakened" in his current reincarnated form: he would immediately go out to the nearest large body of water with a large drink, look towards said body of water, slowly drink his beverage until it was finished, then go to his current home and simply wait for them, ally or enemy, to come to him.

    This was the way he had done it for centuries to help deal with the incoming rush of memories, the stress of multiple lifetimes, and the upcoming conflict. He was lucky enough in this latest incarnation to be living near a beach. Usually, he lived miles away from any river, dam, or beach nearby.

    Drake took a look up at the sky to see the comet passing by overhead. "So that's the cause of our reawakening this time, huh?" he thought out loud to himself. "It's always something we never see or expect until almost the very last moment like assassinations or natural phenomena. Glad it's natural phenomena this time around, I was getting a little annoyed that the last few reincarnations we brought on by assassinations."

    This was also another tradition: whenever Graxdon was awakened, he would reflect on his past lives and go over details about them, big or small. He never made sure to bring in details about the conflict or his association with the other Scions. To Graxdon, this was practically the only time where he could bring down the walls of his persona and be truly contemplative and reflective and not all about business. Even in the eye of the stormy conflicts, he was all about maintaining balance and order. The calm before the storm was when he could think as a true individual and not part of a collected whole.

    Drake took another slow drink of his tea and took another long look at the beach. He wanted to cherish his time of personal reflecting for as long as possible because as soon as he was found, by Light or Darkness, it would begin again.

  9. #9
    Written Into A Corner... Cool Trainer
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    May 2011

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    /\/\/ Dylan Merrimack /\/\/

    He was tossing and turning in his bed - even in unconsciousness, his mind was struggling to accept the ancient memories and the old rivalries, hatreds, grudges. It was an endless assault of information that his human mind could scarcely tolerate. Behind his tightly shut eyelids, his eyeballs flared with sparks and thunder roared in his ears. Arcs of purple electricity snapped all around his body, raking the blankets in which his legs were tangled and leaping from bead to bead of sweat adorning his nearly naked body. Grunts and groans escaped his throat, but while some of them were his own, others were obscenely guttural and distorted, as though several voices in unison were expressing pain and anger and betrayal.

    His skin color warped and swirled between his typical light tan shade and a pale, sickly-looking color - the color of something that was either not truly alive, or possessed of life beyond normal means. His entire body blotched with spots of no color, only to have color return in some places and vanish in others. His cries became more intense and his writhing more violent.

    His eyelids flew wide open. If there were eyeballs within, they were obscured by light and sparks that snapped and sizzled from the sockets. More small, random energy surges arced from him, emerging from his eyes, his mouth, his fingertips, his toes. All around him, carpet and upholstery began to smolder with the heat transfer from the electrical bursts.

    Awareness returned to him then... a tenuous grasp on the reality at hand. With mere thought of the torment he'd had to endure through lives previous, he was destroying his own apartment. And small dwelling though it was, it was still a possession - a focal point of his life now in this world, a place where he could still be himself and none would care.

    He closed his fists and clenched his eyelids shut, willing the energy to stop bursting from him and remain within him. He had learned how to exercise rigorous control over electricity... he'd had to learn it in order to blend in, the second time. There had been no advantage to walking amongst Humanity spouting surges of this strange energy that they had only ever seen in the sky. And now, even with the understanding and control they were able to exert over it with modern technology, it would still strike many as odd that an ostensible fellow human would be releasing such forces from his body.

    The warping of his skin color eased, and returned to its ordinary coloration, while the purple static flaring all about him retreated back to his skin and then stopped its sizzling altogether.

    He dared to open his eyes and release his fingers. These he looked at with a mixture of awe and horror; his nails had dug so deeply into the skin of his palms that they had nearly drawn blood, and now there were angry red prints in each hand. His eyes flew about his room, and he inhaled the acrid scent of fabric-fueled fire - his carpet and blankets were still actively smoking from the energy poured into them.

    He muttered a curse and scrambled to grab a glass of water from his kitchen. Thankfully, none of the fires was larger than that which might be produced from a butane lighter... but it still meant that the carpet had a few scorch marks that had quite clearly not been there when he'd moved in.

    Oh, god... Mrs. Grady's not gonna like that...

    ...but why should I care what a lowly Human thinks?

    He stiffened as he doused the last smoldering ash on the carpet. The voice had been both his... and not. As had the thought behind it. The more the new (and yet old) memories presented themselves, sorted themselves out within his mind, the more he was able to understand of himself and the past lives he had led. Lives without ever realizing the creature he truly was.

    A creature of limitless potential. At least be honest about this. Because honesty was a policy to which the Creators did not hold, and it is what separates us from Them. The Gods On High brought me into this world, and They call it an "accident".

    ...So what does that make me? Am I an accident?

    He cast his gaze about, searching for... for... he didn't even know what. But his eyes landed upon the sheathed saber resting in the corner next to the television. A weapon he'd never had occasion to actually use, but that hadn't stopped him from finding time to practice his technique. It was a goal, at least. A purpose.

    He was very much in need of that just now.

    He virtually vaulted to the other side of the room and took up the weapon. Hurriedly, carelessly, he threw on a dirty muscle shirt and a pair of jeans, then raced out the door and into his yard, where he frantically drew the saber from its scabbard and brought it up to chest height. Just the sight and heft of the weapon in his hand seemed to have a calming influence on his mind, and he began to practice... thrusting at and parrying strikes from an enemy invisible to all but him. His movements were less hurried, more fluid and strong.

    A more serene expression adorned his face as he settled into the movement. The dance of personal war.

    Just focus on the goal. Nothing but the enemy in front of you. Nothing else exists. All you have to do is take the enemy down.

    All you have to do is take the enemy down.


    Tag anybody who wants to come see a strange man swordfighting nobody at all in his front yard.
    Last edited by mattbcl; 2nd November 2011 at 09:23 PM.

  10. #10
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    Crystal Tears's Avatar
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    Aug 2003
    I'll give you a hint. It's cold.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    Night was on them now, and the city gleamed under the starlight and glistening glow of the skyscrapers. Nazara felt somewhat at home here, perhaps it was Claire’s familiarity of the city that made her feel a little… nostalgic? Maybe, the scion didn’t might care. She enjoyed the way downtown glistened, and the crowds of people.

    It was easier to blend in. No one had given her a second glance (well there was that one creeper in the alley) as she strode down the street. Cars of all sorts hurried by, even in the night. She had little love for humanity, but she did enjoy their inventions. If her memory served her as well as it no doubt did, Claire had a car. Some little sporty thing that at some point the scion would have to go fetch.

    Now, normally she would be content resting, but so much had changed since Nazara’s last appearance. She could remember numerous lives, but she hadn’t actually lived any of them. No, instead some little mockery of her - some human form that had always been… simple… simple in idea at least. They were so very straight forward: countless lives being in wars, other lives being missionaries of sorts. Nazara found most the memories boring.

    I find war boring, now that’s surprising. She smirked at her own little thought, turning off the main street and wandering towards industrial. She could smell smoke and almost taste the pollution wafting from the facilities. Nazara didn’t frown, but she didn’t find herself enjoying that particular talent of humanity. She stood on the edge for a moment, crossing her arms and staring down the street. Casually she looked down at her hand and flexed it, hearing the joints crack as it formed into a fist. I wonder if I remember how to fight as well as my memory implies.

    There was no doubt ‘bad guys’ in such a place, and Nazara was intent on finding some.

    “Bitch owed me.”

    Definitely not hard to find. Nazara watched, half-curious of the group of five men gathered around a lit barrel. They were dirty, well most of them, one was notably larger than the rest. He actually didn’t seem to care much what the others were saying. He had a lighter in his hand, flicking it open and shut methodically as he looked around.

    “Didn’t want to pay up, says she couldn’t pay rent. Well, she’s gonna have one hell of a time payin’ rent with a hospital bill rackin’ up. She’s probably in a coma.”

    Oh, such a gentlemen. Admittedly, the scion cared nothing for the woman that had been hurt. Whether it was rape, a beating or murder, she could care less. But she did feel something in her twist at the thought of this dead-beat having the advantage over anyone.

    She watched them talk a little while longer, and noted how the big one just seemed to antagonize the others. A couple of times it almost seemed like he touched the fire without burning. The others didn’t notice, of course not.

    Idiots. The only one I have to watch out for is the barbarian. Nazara crept along the roof like a cat, her eyes glowing dimly in anticipation. He’s still only human, and no human can hope to lay a finger on me.

    “Fuck you man, you don’t know shit about-“

    The man’s sentence was abruptly cut off by Nazara delivering a powerful kick to the back of his head as she leapt. She landed rather well, but her target went head over heels to the ground, either unconscious or dead, and she didn’t care which. Her eyes flicked to the remaining four, all the smaller ones had backed up, one grabbing a crowbar, and the others raising their fists.

    “Morons,” The barbarian snarled. “Kick her ass.”

    “You’re not going to- AH!” The larger one threw one of them towards her, and his flounder punch found nothing but air. Nazara had side-stepped him easily, her fist flying out and colliding with the side of his head. He wavered, disorientated; she kicked him into the wall, making him fall.

    The other two came at her, and she nimbly dodging the madly swinging crowbar, bouncing off the wall to deliver an elbow to the weaponless one’s face. There was a crack, and he fell, face broken and bleeding. He had rolled back to his leader, who promptly stomped on his neck and ended him.

    Odd leader. She caught the crowbar and forced the last goon back, watching him with a cool expression. I suppose death is a great motivator to do what he wants.

    The crowbar wielding lunatic charged, and Nazara leapt. She landed square on his shoulders, legs tightening around his head, she twisted, and heard that distinct, satisfying snap of the man’s neck. He collapsed and she bounced off of him, eyeing the largest one.

    He spared the bodies a glance, tilting his head at the one she had put down.

    “Never liked him.” He shrugged, looking at her with no concern at all. “You, though… you I like.”

    Nazara’s eyes narrowed a tad. “I’m flattered.”

    “Oh, the spitfire speaks…” He smirked, flicking his lighter still. “Well with them gone, I don’t need to share...”

    Something told her he wouldn’t have shared even if they were alive.

    The scion buried the emotions that were trying to control her. Distantly she could feel Claire’s residual fear, and her own temper trying to flare. Getting angry at the opponent wouldn’t increase her chances of winning; in fact it would impede them. Nazara simply watched, waiting for his move.

    He was a hell-of-a lot faster then she had anticipated. Nazara ducked, dodging his swing, she slid to the left and kicked him, maybe moving him an inch to the side. He laughed, taking the attack that had put down one of his goons in stride.

    Joy, the man has endurance.

    She had figured as much when she had originally jumped down, but he hadn’t even blinked. She caught his swing, turning it into a flip, she sent him to the ground, roughly landing on his back. He got up a second later, that stupid, annoying smirk still on his face. Apparently this entire thing was amusing to him, and though she’d loved to wipe that stupid expression of his face, she needed to weight.

    Attacking him would serve nothing. He was bigger, he was stronger, and he was fast.

    Better to wait.

    He charged her, and this time caught her as she attempted to dodge. His grip made her arm instantly ache and she frowned as that was probably going to bruise. Nazara let out a hiss in annoyance, not faltering she swung with her free hand, her fist smashing into the side of his face. He grunted, his grip slipped and she backpedaled, escaping what could’ve been a bit awkward to deal with.

    “Bitch…” He grumbled, and she tilted his head at him.

    Easy to anger.

    “I’m sorry,” her voice taunted him. “Did I hurt you sweetheart?”

    He chuckled at the taunt, but she could see the growing anger in his eyes. That glare would’ve made Claire weep and beg for her life, but not Nazara.

    “You’ll regret sayin’ that.”

    “I don’t think I will.”

    The fight continued, and the more she seemed to dodge or repel his attacks, the more he became like a beast. Though the attacks were slightly easier to dodge, if any one of them hit it would be a disaster. She bounced off the wall, kicking him in the back of the head before landing. This had been a good little work out, but this really needed to end.

    He turned round, and Nazara felt a twinge of nervousness. He moved forward, and kicked the flaming barrel over. The fire roared out, far more then it should’ve, and she shielding her face. When she looked again he was on her, and had grappled her. He picked up up, bending her a little too far in the wrong direction, causing her back to crack painfully before tossing her like garbage.

    The wall, and the pipes running along it, were certainly painful. Nazara hissed, holding back a groan and a curse. Small bits of flame bit at her face and she shook her head, waving them off. She looked up at him, a glare that signified her growing frustration. That’s when she saw him standing in the flames, yet they didn’t hurt him, they did nothing to him but perhaps tickle. Ribbons of fire danced up his arms, spreading out like veins.

    Not normal. She looked at the ground. It was wet, her eyes travelled to the pipes she had been thrown into. How extraordinarily convenient.

    “You’re going to burn you whore …”

    Nazara looked at him, and a smile crept onto her face. “Hello Fenrir.”

    She rolled; energy igniting over her wrist, the brief image of a blade appeared as she sliced. The light-blade disappeared as soon as it appeared, showing nothing more than a blaze of blue white. Not that the newly revealed fire scion was paying attention. The water in the pipes rocketed out onto him, drenched him and the fire on the ground. He snarled, stumbling back as the liquid continued to pour onto him.

    The light scion stood, her smile softening, she strode towards him, promptly kicking him square in the chest. He fell over, coughing and sputtering water but halted when her foot stomped on his chest. The blast of light appeared again, but the light-sword stayed, growing in size until the tip of the blade was dancing on his neck.

    Fenrir’s raging eyes seemed to calm a bit as he eyed the sword and then looked back at her. “Nazara.”

    She tilted her head, the smile kind but taunting. “Why doesn’t it surprise me I found you in the shittiest place of the city?”

    He smirked, but still the anger was in his eyes. “You’re going to kill an old friend?”

    Her eyebrow rose a bit. “You just lit me on fire,” the woman countered, letting the blade singe his neck a little. “I owe you.”

    The blade moved up, touching his cheek, she gave it a light flick and watched as a slit in his skin formed and fresh, red blood began to form on his face. The sword disappeared, and Nazara watched the now drenched fire scion stand, shooting her a glare.

    ~ ~ ~

    Tag Sam! Sorry if anythings off. o:

  11. #11
    RPG Dyke's Bitch Moderator
    ChobiChibi's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2003
    In your base, killing your dudes.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Karis Simmons/Eirwyn

    Karis’s life changed when she left training that evening. No, it hadn’t been because her partner had been a complete dick the entire evening, it was something much more significant, much more confusing.

    She walked alone, as usual, along the usual roads, but something felt different. She noted the comet zooming through the sky as she travelled and her stomach churned. At the time she thought it was a coincidence, but as she got closer to home, she felt worse and worse.

    Her decision to go straight to bed to try and get rid of this feeling, however, was the wrong one. Although she slept for a short amount of time, dreams flooded her mind, some violent images disturbing her until she eventually pulled herself awake with a sharp shriek. She became aware of who she was, what she had done, but perhaps worst of all, what she couldn’t remember.

    There’s a whole chunk of my life missing... What was so horrific that I can’t remember? She pondered, staring up at the ceiling. Any tiredness she’d accumulated during the day had disappeared and she lay awake for hours. There was one great reassurance though: she remembered Nazara, she remembered her friendship and guidance, so she decided that in the morning she would try to find her.

    But the thought of a whole memory of an incarnation was lost scared her the most. What had happened to her? Did she want to forget, or was she forced to?

    Eirwyn got up unusually early, since she was unable to sleep, packed a few things into a backpack and headed out towards the bus station. She remembered a Cathedral in Saint Tesara that Nazara was quite fond of, so decided to go there to begin her search. There was no harm in that was there?

    She wasn’t really sure why she felt it necessary to take a few spare changes of clothes, but she got the feeling that she wouldn’t be going home for a while.

    She got the first bus to Saint Tesara that arrived, sitting somewhere in the middle next to the window. The motion of the bus made her drowsy, finally, but she tried her best to stay awake. The bus got busier as they got closer to the city, so she had to scooch over to let someone sit next to her.

    Karis found his curly hair amusing in her sleepless state, and fought the urge to pull one to let it spring back. She stared out the window instead, feeling her eyes close. A little snooze won’t hurt...

    When she awoke, she found herself in an unfamiliar place, not just on the bus route, but in general. Her head wasn’t up against the window like she expected, but on the shoulder of the gentleman sat next to her. It took a while for it to sink in, but when it did, she sat up suddenly, bashing her head against his on the way.

    “Ow...” She whispered, rubbing her head. She turned towards the guy sitting next to her, who was also rubbing his head, and she had to suppress a giggle.
    “Sorry, I didn’t mean to use you as a pillow.”

    He blinked at her for a second, but soon his expression warmed to a smile. “Don’t worry! You must be tired.”

    As he said it, Karis had her hand over her mouth, yawning loudly. “Maybe...”

    Had to cut this short, sorry! Wanted to get it up before I went away for Graduation. I intended to respond to Matt's tag after this, but I won't be like "blah" if someone takes it before I get back. TAG CHRONOS
    Last edited by ChobiChibi; 9th November 2011 at 10:33 AM.

    X-rated since April 2012!

    Weasel Overlord says:

    Crystal Tears: Shut. Up.
    Or i will hog tie you
    and ram you
    with my train

  12. #12
    The destroyer of worlds Elite Trainer
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    Sep 2002

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    +==Zedona the Plague

    After his awakening, Xavier, or rather Zedona, sat quietly in his bed, silently fuming. All these centuries, he had been living out lives of misery and agony, while no doubt those miserable Scions of Light were living it up in luxery in their creator's favour.

    He wondered quietly. Were the others awake? Was it just him who regained his memories? The frail man wasn't too sure, but he could find out.

    He closed his eyes, beginning to concentrate. Slowly, he could feel it. The energies of those who were not human, those like himself. The scions. He could feel the light of their light born counterparts, filling him with rage, but he could also feel the darkness of his bretheren. He could feel the different signatures of each darkness. The burning flame of Fafnir, the cold ice of Eirwyn, and even the soothing light of...

    "Naraza..." he murmured softly. Yes, her, the only one who ever seemed to give a crap about him.

    Slowly, he began to pull himself from his bed, slipping into the wheelchair. After a few minutes of difficulty, the dark scion of poison had changed into a more suitable attire. He had to go seek out the others. He had to bring them together. With any luck, the scions of light had yet to realise that they had awakened. This would give them an excellent opportunity to launch a surprise attack.

    He wheeled out of his apartment, heading for the elevator. He knew instantly where to go first. Towards that soothing light, the same light that led the first charge against the gods that forsook them.


    Zedona's out and searching for the others. Sure, he's looking for Nazara, but feel free to run into him if you wish.

    in other words, TAG everyone!
    I'm in your dimensions, screwing with your reality!

  13. #13
    Rl #32:Enjoy The Little Things Master Trainer
    Master Trainer
    Shadow Wolf's Avatar
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    May 2006
    Puerto Rico

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Tellus Shields/Chronos

    Tellus had to do a few things before finally be able to fall asleep again. He browsed the web on his computer for a bit, watched some TV, listened to some of his favorite songs, made sure to have everything ready for work. Finally, when he noticed that it was 1:37am, he went to the fridge, took a glass of milk and went to bed. He looked again at the clock… 1:43am was the last thing he saw before his eyes closed and he went into slumber.

    The alarm clock rang and Tellus woke up. He had to get out of his bed quickly; after all, for some reason, the bed feels more comfortable just as you wake up and five more minutes of rest could easily become 30 minutes, which would be enough to get late to work. He is a fan of punctuality so he rose to his feet and rushed to the bathroom. The warm water flowing through his hair and into his face was enough to dissolve any symptoms of hypnosis brought by sleeping and open up completely his almond shaped eyes. After washing his mouth, he jumped inside his usual clothing had some cereal for breakfast. Even though he was a janitor, his company gave him the privilege to work in his usual clothing, so he had no problem in picking his clothing quickly. While putting his wallet in his pocket, he closed the door of his apartment and went to the bus station.

    As he entered the bus, he felt some uneasiness. A scion is here, and from the looks of it, probably a dark one. he thought. He concealed his aura, as he wanted to go to work quickly, and morning is not a good time to have problems.

    While walking through the passageway of the bus, he waved his head from left to right, hoping to find a place where he could sit. Finally, somewhere in the middle row, someone moved, revealing a free space for Tellus to sit down.

    Speaking of Scions, I wonder how the others are doing. Lou pondered in his mind as the bus resumed the journey through Saint Tesara. He also wanted to know which person was the dark scion, but there were a lot of people in the bus, so this could take some time. He was a bit lazy for some stuff… he just relaxed!

    While on the ride, he felt something touching his shoulder. He looked to his side… he was surprised. The young woman sitting next to him fell asleep on his shoulder. But what surprised Tellus was her calm, delicate face as she lay asleep next to him, which was as clear as an ice sculpture. Unable to stop looking at her, Tellus decided not to wake her up; besides, the dark circles on her low eyelids gave him the impression that she may have not slept much so a nap could benefit her greatly.

    Is not because he already cared for her, but because he knew what it was like to not have enough sleep. Having his experience in mind, he knew what to do… He could hold his uneasiness with awkward situations for a while…

    After a while, he felt the young woman moving a bit, so he quickly glanced to his side. She was waking up.

    If Tellus was a bit surprised at her innocent face, what he would see next would just leave him speechless. As her eyelids opened slowly, her icy blue eyes combined with her light blonde hair, left Tellus so stunned that he took some time to react just after she bashed her head unintentionally by him in surprise.

    “Ow...” She whispered, rubbing her head. Tellus suddenly felt the pain and his hand moved quickly into his forehead, trying to relieve his pain with a small rub. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to use you as a pillow.”

    He was so focused on her eyes that he only blinked once before her words finally made him snap back into reality. He smiled while saying: “Don’t worry! You must be tired.” As he said it, she had her hand over her mouth, yawning loudly. “Maybe...”

    “Haha, yep, you’re still a bit tired” he said while smiling as if he almost laughed. “If you want, I can wake you up when one of us gets to our destination. I’m going for my job at the town square.”

    “I’m going to the Cathedral” she replied.

    “Well, it looks like we’ll be getting off the bus on the same place.” He looked at his clock… “We’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

    “Then I could use a bit more rest” she said while closing her eyes again. “I…” Tellus preferred to stay quiet. She fell asleep on his shoulder again.

    Small moments… moments that may go unnoticed as we spend the day, but that are as precious as those big dreams that humans strive for… pause time for a moment, and enjoy this little scene… and, if only for this time… cherish this moment as if could last forever.

    “Hey, we’re here.” Lou whispered at the girl while the announcement was heard: “Next Stop: Saint Tesara Square”. The girl rubbed her eyes as she woke up, stretched a bit and finally thanked Tellus for waking her up. They both proceeded to get off the bus and walk toward the square.

    “So what brings you here” Tellus asked. His voice showing signs of nervousness. “I plan to meet a friend” she replied. “I… I see…” Tellus answered as they crossed a street. He wanted to have a casual conversation, but he had trouble communicating with humans; but he was putting an effort –though unsuccessful– in at least say a few things.

    “Well, here it is!” they both stood in front of the colossal building know as the Cathedral. “I hope you find you friend…” Tellus said. His face suddenly turning a bit blue for some reason he didn’t knew yet.

    “Thanks… umm” the girl replied while wondering his name. “Tellus, Tellus Shields” Tellus replied. “Well, thanks Tellus” she said as she gave him some kind of paper. He was unsure to refuse her, so he just took the paper.

    As she walked to the doors of the Church, he opened the paper, wondering what it was… a phone number. “Wait…” it slipped through Tellus lips, though unintentionally. He didn’t know her name.

    She opened the door… and looked straight at Tellus eyes. “Karis, Karis Simmons” her face shined with a warm smile before she turned away to enter the Cathedral.

    He stood there motionless for a while. His wristwatch gave a light chime that made him return from dreamland. “I’M LATE!” He rushed to his job without remembering that there was a dark scion in the bus and without even thinking that there was a reason as to why he was feeling uneasy and calm at the same time with a girl he just met...


    Wow, OK, here we have Karis (Eirwyn), and Tellus works as a janitor at the same place where another Scion works, so even if the Scion’s not mentioned here, I’ll have it tagged (he/she knows who he/she is ). Finally, this happens during the morning (or early at dawn), so if someone is going to the Cathedral, then tag to anyone who wants to see a guy staring at a church for no reason or sprinting towards a building.

    Optimist award 2012.

    “There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.” (Linda Grayson)

    Thank you everyone... for being so kind and for bringing out the best in me! You are definitely awesome! ^_^

  14. #14
    A serious brain-f*** Advanced Trainer
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    Sep 2002
    The "awesome" accents factory

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    The dark scion of fire was not amused. Bored of the dull night his host had left him with, he had gone out in search of entertainment and found himself in the city’s industrial district. Sure, spending a few hours talking to the scum of the Earth wasn’t exactly how he’d wanted to spend his first night back on the planet but they did have their uses. Sometimes they would good place to start looking for fun. Sometimes the fun came to them.

    That night, it was the latter.

    Fenrir loved a good battle. And when one finally presented itself he was more than happy to take up the challenge. Of course, he wasn’t so stupid as to just charge in and find himself disappointed. No, the woman had to be tested first and the men who had taken up so much of his time were happy to offer their lives to her trial. He was sure she wasn’t human. What he knew of human woman didn’t fit the creature before him. No, he had decided that this one was most likely a scion. And, if he was very lucky, a light scion at that.

    To lock horns so soon. I’m going to enjoy this.

    The battle had been shorted than he’d desired, the fault being entirely his own. His cockiness had cost him his advantage, and not for the first time. He would never admit it, but he was relieved when he discovered his opponent was actually on his side.

    Fenrir stood and thumbed the blood from his cheek. “I suppose that’s fair,” he said, rubbing it off on his fingers.

    “More than fair,” Nazara replied.

    He eyed the scion of light. “What are you doing here? Doesn’t seem like your usual hunting grounds.”

    “Just experimenting with the new body.”

    He smirked. “It’s a fine body.”

    She stretched back a little, emphasising her breasts. A coy smile spread across her lips. “You noticed?”

    “You’re toying with me.”

    “Yes, but it’s fun.” She took a step closer and wiped another trickle of blood from his face. “I have a question for you.”


    “How do you feel about rebelling again?”

    Fenrir shook his head. “Following you into battle didn’t exactly go well for me last time.”

    “Call this payback for what I did for you last time.”

    “Nice try, but I remember that being payment for a debt you made in the first rebellion. Cost me my favourite hand.” He turned away from her and stretched. “Sorry Nazara, but I’d rather spend what little time I have causing as much chaos as I can.”

    “What if I told you I had something to offer?”

    He glanced back at her over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. “And what would that be?”


    He turned to face her fully and searched her face. He had no way of knowing what she was thinking, that much he knew, but he wanted to be sure. This offer sounded too good to him.

    “Not interested?” She turned her back on him. “Never mind then.”

    “Wait a minute. I didn’t say I wasn’t interested?”

    “So you agree to help me?”

    There was every chance she would end up betraying him. He knew Nazara, if the time came where his services were no longer required and her aims could be achieved with his demise, she wouldn’t hesitate to destroy him. Even so…

    He moved over to her, so close there was barely any space between them. “I’ll help you, but on one condition. You have to help me achieve my goal.”

    She turned her head towards him, watching him out of the corner of her eye. “Which is?”

    “I’ll tell you later.”

    She turned to him, considered his face for a moment and then nodded. “Very well.” She reached up on to her toes, touched his cheek with her hand and kissed him. “We have a deal.”

    He awoke earlier than usual. Maybe it was how bright the morning was through those large windows or the unease of being in a hell hole of worship. Whatever the reason, he was awake. He lifted his head and looked over as the naked woman fast asleep beneath his arm. It was strange to know her like this; the scion so long denied a human form. But that didn’t mean he would forget what she was capable of.

    He lifted his arm from her and climbed out of bed. He had never been fond of the routine of retrieving his clothes, it felt too much like an acceptance of guilt over things done the night before and Fenrir was never one who regretted a night spent with a woman. Nazara stirred as he was buttoning his jeans and he glanced over at her. It wasn’t his style to sleep with someone more than once but a body like her’s was difficult to deny was it put on display. He actually found himself somewhat excited at the prospect of spending another night with her.

    He pulled on his t-shirt and wandered over the nearest window. Outside, people made their way back and forth. Maggots. They’ll burn. I’ll see to it every last one of them feels the pain of our existence.

    “You’re still here.” Her voice sounded more irritated than surprised.

    “I’m just leaving.” He slipped on his shoes. “I’ll be back tonight to continue our agreement.” He left her then and found one of the back exits of the Cathedral to slip out of. It was too early to deal with so many people.

    Even though it was early for him, his host was already late for work. He realised this when an odd twinge panic momentarily caught him stomach. Guess I still haven’t taken over him completely. But then a cruel smile stretched onto the scion’s face. He hadn’t destroyed Karik’s spirit completely. A trace of the boy still lingered within him, a trace that carried with it a secret hatred for those who had looked down at him for years. For the woman who’d scorned him. Fenrir turned and made his way towards Karik’s office. There’s fun to be had today. Oh yes there is.


    “You’re late, Karik! I’m docking you an hour’s pay for that.”

    Fenrir said nothing and as the rest of the office looked on; Fenrir drew back his fist and punched the manager in the cheek. The beast of flubber and flannel fell back and everyone gaped. “You’re pathetic. All bark and no bite.” He pulled a lighter from his pocked and crouched down. “I’ll show you how to really put the fear of a god in someone.” He flicked the lighter and took the small flame into his palm. “Take notes, fatty, ‘cause this is going to be good.”

    He launched a ball of fire towards the nearest female, grinning as it caught hold of the cheap fabric on her dress and began to spread. She screamed and flailed, begging for her others to help them, but no one rushed to her aid. Maybe they hoped the sprinklers would save her and they would be able to justify their cowardice but there would be rain from heaven to her save; he had already seen to that.

    One by one, he torched his vessel’s former colleagues. Those who tried to run suffered slower fates than those who let their fear bind them completely. The boss was the last to die and he made sure it was the slowest. It was revenge, even if it wasn’t exactly his own and contrary to the popular belief he preferred this particular dish chargrilled and still smoking. He helped the dying flames on the corpses find new food in the building that had once been Karik’s torture chamber and left.

    The street was unaffected. No one who walked past knew what he had done. The manager had done everything he could to separate the office and the outside world and his death had been all the sweeter for it. Oh how he’d screamed and begged to be set free. How he’d cried for help. But no one could hear him. He walked through the street, hands in his pockets and a grin on his face. He was long gone before anyone noticed the fire, already well on his way to see his next and final victim.

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  15. #15
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    I'll give you a hint. It's cold.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    - + ~ Nazara ~ + -

    Any other night, any other day, Nazara would’ve been out of bed. Normally though, she wouldn’t have spent a good portion of the night entertaining the fire-spitter. She watched him leave through a cracked eyeball before she rolled over. To her mind, it was too early; this human form had a weakness of needing sleep. Sleep was time that the enemy could use against her, though she highly doubted any of them were aware of what had happened with the appearance of the comet. In the back of her mind, she could feel them, distant little pulses of energy meant to mark out her allies. Her very awkward thankfully not blood related family..

    Quite a pathetic family really, those born from shadows will only live as their shadows. Given the job of a sponge, and a sponge ends up dirty and rotted at the end.

    Some of the pulses disappeared, but she didn’t ignore the one that seemed abnormally close. She frowned, only rising from her bed because the day demanded that she begin preparations. She needed to know the status of her allies and enemies, she needed resources, and while now she had gotten a particularly fiery one, she needed more.

    She slipped on her clothes, she had snuck into her apartment and grabbed some more before she had led Fenrir to the church. Simple jeans and a black baby-tee. It was good enough for today. Nazara stretched, hearing her back crack, she opened up the door and came face to face with the priest.

    Nazara blinked, letting her surprise linger, if she was to calm about it he wouldn’t like it. Priests, pastors, councillors… all of them wanted guilt. Guilt was a human emotion that one would be accepted by those that thought, even in the purest sense, that they could exploit it.

    “F-father!” She smiled nervously. “Hello…”

    “That man, who left your room…” He eyed her suspiciously.

    “Him, he’s-“

    The look she got, from this human, made her blood boil. She shrugged it off, giving him a wary, smile.

    “It’s personal Father, I don’t think I should discuss it. But it’s not what you think. I swear.”

    He frowned, but nodded, accepting the answer. “You have visitors.”

    She nodded, watching depart down the hall, she scowled at him and hurried for the main chamber. Energy was tingling around her wrist, for all she knew one of those damned god-defenders were here, to put her down before anything could be done about the state of things.

    No, instead…

    Instead standing before her was a woman that gave the impression of the first fall of snow, with a glistening beauty that only the heavens could bestow. She looked at Nazara warily, perhaps sensing that the scion was on edge. She looked around, admiring the cathedrals interior before she neared.


    “Eirwyn.” She stated coolly, watching as the girl smiled. She was surprised when she rushed forward and embraced the light scion in a hug. Slowly Nazara returned the embrace, though not entirely sure what was going on.

    The ice scion parted from her, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Have all of us awoken?”

    Nazara didn’t offer a concrete answer. “Fenrir has returned, I don’t know about the others. As it stands now though, we can assume all of us regained our memories.”

    Eirwyn looked put off, she looked at the ground warily. “Nazara… I don’t remember what happened in our last battle with the defenders… I just, something told me to find you.”

    The light scion narrowed her eyes. If that was true, and Eirwyn didn’t remember, then for the moment, Nazara had nothing to worry about. She smiled and touched her hand to the girl’s cheek.

    “We lost, if you couldn’t tell.”

    “I’m sorry.” She frowned, hanging her head. “I thought I could win – we could win… What happened to me?”

    Nazara didn’t answer, she simply smiled like a mother would to her worried child and lifted Eirwyn’s chin. She looked at her leader nervously, but seeing the kindness, she seemed to quickly regain her confidence.

    “It doesn’t matter, not right now anyways.” Nazara was about to continue when the cathedral door opened, both of them looked quickly. Though they seemed to calm down when a man with a wheelchair rolled in, looking at them cautiously. “Zedona?” The light scion smiled, stepping around the icy-one to greet her sickly friend.

    “Nazara.” He smiled weakly, rolling towards them; he came to a stop shortly.

    “You remember Eirwyn?” Nazara gestured to the other girl.

    He nodded. “Welcome back.”

    “You too.” Eirwyn replied, and then they both looked at her. “What’s going on Nazara?”

    “Honestly?” The woman looked at them. “I have no idea, not when it comes why some random falling star awoke us. What I do know is eventually the others will catch on, and they’ll do exactly what they’ve done the last two times. Humiliate us, and maybe this time they’ll strip away our powers and just trap us as humans with our memories. Unable to do a thing about the gods or them.”

    Zedona hung his head. Nazara approached him, placing a caring hand on his shoulder. “Well we have the element of surprise. Shroud your energy, don’t let them detect us… its how they found us last time.” She paused, moving away from the duo, she strode up to the Christ figure and gazed up at it. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked back at them. “We need to find the others, allies and enemies… Eirwyn you will try and find our own. Keep yourself shrouded and search out who you can… I think Moshinas is close.”

    She nodded.

    “Zedona…” Nazara looked at him. “You’ll find our enemies, they won’t suspect you… Whatever you do, do not attack them. Watch, interact if you must but you keep your true identity and motives hidden.”

    “What if they attack me?” He seemed worried.

    “Exchange numbers, all of you. Don’t worry about Fenrir, he’ll return later tonight… I’ll tell him all he needs to know then.”

    “Where is he?” Eirwyn tilted her head, curious.

    “Who knows…” Zedona commented, albeit quietly. “Off pillaging another village?”

    Nazara smirked. “No doubt…”

    “What are you going to do?” Eirwyn questioned, she was always full of questions.

    “I’m going to work.” Nazara shrugged. “I need to be there in an hour, it’ll give me time to think of our next move.” She looked at them. “Get going, call when you find something.”

    Both nodded, and moved for the exit.

    Nazara was quiet as they left and she turned back to the figure. Not that she had anything against the imaginations of humanity, but the gods looked nothing like what they thought. She tilted her head, knowing that she would have to hurry if she was going to be on time. But still, she couldn’t help but feel a little smirk crawl onto her face.

    This time, I will make you bleed. She snarled inside her mind, before heading back to her room to change into something a tad more work appropriate.

    “Claire!” The CEO of Sigmund Exclusive smiled at her, with a shaved head, thick rimmed glasses and a beaming smile it was so obvious it was gay it was funny. He always dressed nicely, and though he was hard on everyone else, he was never mean or cross with Claire. Claire had proven her worth. “My darling! How have you been?”

    “To be honest Sigmund, I think I’m coming down with something!” She smiled at him, grinning as he feigned keeping distance from her.

    “Oh no! Well if you need a day off honey you tell me, I’m sure I can keep things together for a day or two.”

    “I’m sure.” She nodded, grinning.

    “Do me a favour and deliver this to that boy down in printing…” Sigmund handed her a folder. “Go on! Before I find some other petty task for you.”

    Nazara smiled and nodded, pivoting on her heel, she hurried.

    She came around the corner, and bumped hard into someone. Grunting she stepped back, blinking.

    “I’m sorry Miss.” He looked at her warily. “I…” His train of thought trailed off when he met her gaze.

    Nazara rose an eyebrow at him, not annoyed at him, just… a little impatient. “You…?”

    He blinked.

    “What’s your name?”

    “Tellus Shields.” He offered and brought the mop handle closer to him. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

    She smiled kindly. “Don’t worry about it.”

    ~ + ~

    Time to try and get the ball rolling. Follow yer orders scions! :3 And have fun~

  16. #16
    RPG Dyke's Bitch Moderator
    ChobiChibi's Avatar
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    Jan 2003
    In your base, killing your dudes.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    For once in her life, Karis was glad that she didn’t have any form of transport at her disposal, because she had a lot to think about, and walking alone meant she had plenty of time to do so.

    Finding Nazara wasn’t as hard as she had thought it would be, thankfully. She expected a massive revelation on her part, but it just didn’t come. She was kind and comforting though, gentle with her fragile mind. Was that like her? Perhaps, but she may well have changed since the last time she could remember her.

    With her ability to sense auras reawakened, she turned a corner, heading in a new direction, away from the bustling city centre and out towards the residential areas.

    Zedona hadn’t done much for her memory either, but from what she could recall, she was never particularly close to him, so it wasn’t surprising. She only felt a sense of security from him, as though he would not let her down. She took great comfort in this.

    But as she walked, the thing that kept popping up in her mind was completely irrelevant to everything that should be important. Why on earth did she give that guy her phone number?! With everything that was going on, why did she feel the need to complicate things further by adding a new person into her life?

    “I blame Karis.” She grumbled, turning down another road, narrowly avoiding walking into an old man and his old dog. “She’s on the rebound. I’m on the rebound. If only Tellus wasn’t so kind, and Derrick wasn’t such a prick...”

    She could feel that she was getting closer to Moshinas; static began to grow in her mind, the lingering feeling of lightning in the air. He was using his abilities out in the open already? Eirwyn hadn’t felt the need to try them out, as it was only nearly autumn, patches of ice would be suspicious in the late morning sunshine. That’s not all you can do, though. At least you remember how to fight.

    “He probably won’t call anyway.” Her mind swerved back to the apparently more pressing issue. “What would you do if Karis was still with Derrick? Would you let him rule you still? Would you kill him?”

    You ARE Karis. She reminded herself, stopping a few feet short of a driveway. She caught her reflection in a parked car’s window. She lives up to what should be an Ice Queen’s appearance, even if that’s not reflected in our personality. She smiled in amusement. Just leave the Light Ice Scion to be the Ice Queen, it fits her perfectly.

    The man on the front lawn didn’t look familiar, but his fighting stance did. He fought an invisible enemy that Eirwyn seemed to be able picture. She watched him duel his imaginary foe for a while, before stepping to the edge of the driveway. “Moshinas...”

    He didn’t hear her; he was too in the zone. Eirwyn related greatly to this, remembering that he too would train so hard to strive for perfection. She needed his attention.


    Again, no response. Should she just call Nazara? “I found him, but he was too busy waving his sword around to pay any attention to me, we should come back later” probably wouldn’t be a satisfactory report.

    No, she needed to do something drastic to get his attention. Slowly, her icey gunblade formed in her hand, gleaming as if brand new. She glanced around before running its blade along the side of the nearest car, watching it effortlessly pierce a hole in its side and scrape a path through the metal. Yes, it was sharp enough.

    She took a few moments to continue to watch Moshinas’ movements, ready for her strike. She rushed forwards, her blade intercepting his just at the right moment. They stood there, eyes and swords locked for what seemed like eternity, with an undeniable chill to the air around them...

    “Good morning, Moshinas!”


    X-rated since April 2012!

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  17. #17
    Hardcore Casual Gamer Cool Trainer
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    Jan 2009
    Seattle, WA

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)



    Drake/Graxdon walked his way to work carrying a half eaten croissant and a plastic bottle of orange juice looking strangely refreshed and relaxed for someone who woke up in the middle of the night and had discovered his true identity. 'Guess that news article I read about waking up in the middle of the night, staying awake for an hour, and going back to sleep was correct.' he thought to himself.

    Then again, this was normal behavior for someone like Drake/Graxdon. On his way to work, he couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding as he passed a wheelchaired individual on the street. Drake shrugged it off for the moment and finished off his pastry, as he went towards his way to the back door to Borderlines Café.

    "Morning, Victoria!" Drake called out. "Good morning yourself, Drake!" The chipper and attractive red-headed owner wearing her usual bright outfit and work apron of Borderlines greeted. "So what's today's agenda?" Drake asked as he went to put on his work apron.

    "Well, remember that I had some job interviews with a couple of people two weeks ago correct?"

    Drake nodded as he finished off his fruit beverage. "Well, I've narrowed the list down and I want you to be the one to evaluate them today since you're the best one to review them." Victoria said handing Drake a piece of paper.

    "That makes sense since, besides you, I'm the only one working here." Drake said in a tone best described as fun sarcasm.

    "Stop joking around Drake." Victoria giggled. "We have an interview with someone as soon as we open, so judge them fairy, alright?"

    "No problem, Victoria." Drake responded. "I'll be sure to give..." Drake looked at the paper Victoria had given him. "...Aeryn McFallon a fair review."

    Tag Asilynne
    Last edited by DivineAll; 22nd November 2011 at 12:20 AM.

  18. #18
    Written Into A Corner... Cool Trainer
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    May 2011

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    /\/\/ Dylan Merrimack / Moshinas the Thunder /\/\/

    The intruder upon his circle of responsibility was startling to him; the fact that she had managed to find her way under his defenses and catch his blade upon her own was perhaps even more of a shock. For just the briefest of instants, he felt a flare of embarrassment beginning to touch his earlobes... and some part of him was fairly certain that embarrassment wasn't the only reason for color to reach his ears. Her sword was perfectly locked against his, and he could sense the power she pushed through her arms into her blade. It would only be with considerable effort that he could win the lock... but he was certain he could do it.

    Until the moment she spoke.

    "Good morning, Moshinas!"

    His face twisted then, a mask of unholy fury, and suddenly half of the young man's visage was gone, to be replaced by a single glowing, sparking eye socket, pale whitish-blue skin that engulfed the left side of his head (which side was now abruptly bald), and half a bright yellow beard.

    A surge of lightning crawled down his arm and wracked his weapon, which he forced sideways and down, until the tips of both blades were aimed directly at the ground. The sound of electricity snapping and the icy edge of her blade creaking and squealing in protest against the metal of his sword filled half the block with hideous noise that made at least two local dogs whimper.

    But then she pulled a move he didn't expect - using her precise control of the ice from which her weapon was forged, she hyperextended the tip of her blade to shoot straight into the ground, anchoring it there and forcing him to fight the earth itself in the saber lock. Before he could properly react to the display, she delivered a devastating punch to his left kidney.

    The bizarre duality of his face was suddenly gone, and his human appearance was fully re-asserted just in time for both his eyes to bug out. He went down on one knee and groaned in pain, simultaneously dropping his sword to the grass.

    She bent over, her pale hair silling about her almost equally pale face, and she gave him a disapproving look. "That's not really how I expected to meet an old friend, Moshinas. It's been a long time, but I thought maybe you might be glad to see you're not alone, here."

    He let out another cough, then spat on the ground in disgust. Should've paid more attention instead of just flailing around. Shows I get what I deserve. Then he looked up at her... and narrowed his eyes... and tilted his head. It wasn't just in what she said, it was in her inflection, too.


    "Guilty as charged, Mr. Thunder." She tentatively offered him a hand; he took it, and together they brought him back to his full height, which was nearly a head above her. She sized him up for a long moment. "You look like you've had better days."

    "If I have, they were few and far between," he answered. "I'd like to hope that the best ones are still ahead."

    "Funny you should mention that. The way Nazara talks, it sounds like the two of you might actually be in agreement on that."

    His eyes narrowed. "Nazara, too? How many...?"

    "We don't know yet," she responded. "It's me, you, her, Zedona, Fenrir... maybe others, but those are who we know for sure."

    His shoulders slumped, and he looked to the ground - his sword was still lying there beneath her steadily melting gunblade, some silent testament to his relatively simple and anticlimactic defeat. He leaned down and picked up his weapon. "So which of you is in charge this time?"

    She blinked, wearing an expression of honest surprise. "What?"

    He frowned. "What what?"

    "I have no idea what you're talking about."

    He scoffed. "Whatever."

    She gave him another look of disapproval. "Moshinas... I didn't come here to argue with you."

    "Good, 'cause there's nothing about this conversation worth arguing over." He blew an irritated breath out his nose, then turned to his apartment. "I need to go in and change. C'mon in and grab a soda or something if you like. Let's sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings." He aimed a significant look back at her. "How some have been deposed, some slain in war."

    Without waiting for her response, he opened the front door, and though he did not face her, his next words were just audible enough for her to hear.

    "Round Three's coming, I guess."


    Tag Chobi!
    Last edited by mattbcl; 16th November 2011 at 09:28 PM.

  19. #19
    Rl #32:Enjoy The Little Things Master Trainer
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    May 2006
    Puerto Rico

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Tellus Shields/Chronos

    “Behind every successful man there’s a wise woman”.

    The rumors at Sigmund Exclusive, the place where Tellus worked had a clear example of this common saying. Tellus began working recently as a janitor on the company, but rumors spread like pollen; thus he knew that the reason of the company’s success was summarized in a name that everyone in the company knew: Claire Reynolds.

    Sure, the CEO might be the one who established the company, but it was thanks to Claire’s ideas that the company reached the fame it enjoys today. Every time her name was mentioned, the word “perfection” could be drawn out of the gossip. Leadership, initiative, beauty… almost any good adjective that a human being could think of would fit this charismatic CEO first assistant.

    He only saw her walking by once in his few months at his job, but even her graceful steps –which could be compared with a skillful dancer–, were enough to make every man in the company hold their job for a while, just to have a glance at “the woman”.

    However, in spite of this, Tellus didn’t even considered being able to talk to her. After all, janitors were lonely workers. Usually, their fantastic cleaning abilities go unnoticed. They are the ones who clean the mess done by others in the bathrooms, which usually requires “a strong stomach”. They get to work early to have the floors polished for the people who walk by them every day. If there are decorative plants in a company, they are the ones who water them every day. And if a company has an air conditioning system –which is a must-have in every company– then the janitors have the job to keep the dust out of them.

    People seem to forget that, if they always find a bathroom tidy and clean, if they walk through a polished hallway, if they smile while noticing a healthy plant, and if they can breathe the cool air of an air conditioning system, is because the janitors have been there completing their duties. They might possess great skills, and some of them might even make good conversations, including funny jokes; but most people look down on them.
    Tellus was one of those janitors. He knew that his job required skills and dedication, but he also knew that people would look down on him. This is why he, unlike most men in the company, did not dream with meeting Claire someday.

    The thing is that even the most logical conclusions can be taken down by undeniable facts. And today, facts would prevail over conclusions.

    Tellus was at his usual routine, he would mop the floors early in the morning, clean the garbage cans and bathrooms once every hour (he would have this task divided with a co-worker in periods of 30 minutes), water the plants, and if needed, he would have to provide services for employees on higher positions, who would usually have their own office. This way his usual routine expect on Mondays, where he would have to inspect and clean the air conditioning system as soon as he arrived to work. Sure, the employees of the night shift were the ones who cleaned the ventilation system, but in case someone didn’t do his job properly, then Tellus will be the one to make sure the job was well done before turning on the vent system.

    Thanks to Chronos ground abilities and knowledge, Tellus could deal with dust and earth-like particles easily. While making sure that no one saw him, he could manipulate the dust like a magnet and pull it out of everywhere, that’s why his designated areas for cleaning were polished, even in those small and annoying corners where the broom could not do its job effectively. Sometimes, he would even make pictures and words with the dust, just to have something to laugh, but he would quickly return to his cleaning duties.

    Today, he was mopping the floors, so his gaze was drawn to the pattern created by the mop as he went from left to right and vice-versa, leaving each tile clean of dust. He was close to the corner, almost ready to finish this hallway to proceed to the next, when he felt someone bump into him. His gaze quickly went into the person’s feet and noticed a pair of high heels. hmm, a lady… I better apologize quick . Even though he wasn’t at fault, he preferred to be the one who offered apologies whenever this happened. That way, people would be put at ease by his kindness and continue their duties.

    “I’m sorry Miss.” Tellus quickly said. “I…” His train of thought trailed off when he met her gaze. He never expected to be face to face with Claire Reynolds. Her sapphire eyes and charcoal hair, along with her beautiful skin was just enough to left Tellus unable to say anything.

    “You…?” she replied, her eyes showing a bit of impatience, probably because she needed to hurry with her task. He blinked, returning to the scene.

    “What’s your name?” she asked.

    Crap, this sounds bad! I need to apologize and fast
    “Tellus Shields.” He offered and brought the mop handle closer to him. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bump into you.”

    She smiled kindly. “Don’t worry about it.”

    Whew, safe! But still… Tellus felt uneasy at her reaction. After all, only a few words from her to the CEO would be enough to get him out of the company. He appreciated his job, and losing it could be a problem. But as he was lost in his train of thoughts, he didn’t notice that she was walking through his side. “Ma’am” she turned to him with a serious look “Th-the floor is wet. P-proceed with caution, OK?” She stared awkwardly at him before turning around and continuing her path.

    sighs Tellus went to grab the mop and continued his duties. Well, I guess that what happens when you are mentally allergic to humans

    As he was ready to proceed into the next hall, his memories suddenly flashed… he recalled the events in the morning, from the one of the few interactions he had with a human to the moment just before getting into the bus.

    Hmm, I wonder how was I able to interact with Karis… sure, she seems like a nice person… and you have to admit that she is… well, let’s just say that she’s special.

    Chronos didn’t want to put much thought into it. He had this habit of thinking too much about small details, and whenever he did that, he would stress himself over nothing. Plus… Special… His gaze was fixed at the floor, but his mind was travelling in time, through some of the memories he spent with her. He knew it was forbidden, he knew it would bring calamity, but even so…

    He wanted to see her again; and even if his fellow light Scions “didn’t knew” where she was, and even if he did not want to insist on her whereabouts... he would keep in his mind and his heart the desire to once again, feel her chilling caress in his face.

    “Eirwyn…” his lips muttered her name before he just forgot everything and moved on to the next hallway to clean.

    He didn’t notice that Claire was walking by when he mentioned her name…

    Soon after Chronos was done with his job, he found himself passing by the Cathedral as usual. But this time, he stopped and gazed at the entrance. As a faint smile glowed in his face, he would recall everything about the morning. He dismissed his thoughts as he continued his path to the bus station. His memoirs also took notice of the moment when he noticed a dark scion in the ride to town. He released his aura to investigate… Hmm… odd, I can’t feel the dark Scions… maybe I’m just tired.

    His curiosity for the lack of aura was set aside when a conversation between humans caught his attention:

    "Hey, did you hear what they said in the news?"
    "You mean, about the fire in that building?"
    "Yeah! They say that they have been unable to identify what caused the fire. But the worst part is that they still haven't found a single survivor"

    As Chronos accidentally overheard the gossip between the people waiting for the bus, he couldn't help but feel some kind of ominous feeling. For some reason, his memories went back to the time where Saint Tesara faced an Armageddon thanks to the flames of destruction produced by Fenrir's Wolf pack.

    Fenrir He couldn't help but frown at the thought of that name, for the extinction of humanity was almost fulfilled by his hands. Even though the Scions stopped him, his thirst for destruction would probably have not been satisfied. Chronos hoped that the memories of the dark Scions didn't return, for it would mean the possible fall of humanity, and with the lack of communication he had with his fellow Light friends, the fall of them too.

    Chronos may not be as much of a lover of humanity as Saighneán, but he knew that humans were not guilty of the fate of the Scions. Sure, humans might be cruel sometimes, and even that carelessly ignore any misfortune which does not befall them directly -turning a blind eye to all manner of wickedness so long as it does not touch them or their kin-, but he has also seen the power in humans when they stand up from the ashes, cast aside any small difference and cooperate to reach a common goal. It was from them that he learned that there might still be hope for what he dreams for. Plus humans were amusing to study and to observe; so as a protector of humanity, he knew that if there were another day where something or someone became a menace to humanity, he would stand again and as the Scion of Earth to protect the children of the earth.

    He didn’t notice that his body moved on his own while his mind was lost in thoughts. As he was thinking of all these things, he’d already entered the bus and took a seat. He had half a day and the night in this period of 24 hours, but an event in the morning promised to be the light in him, at least for the rest of the day…

    *sighs* I guess this is one of the few times that I’ve been able to establish friendship with someone.

    Yeah, a human that resembles Eirwyn you idiot!

    She’s Karis Simmons, not Eirwyn!

    And if she’s not Eirwyn, then why did you let her enter your life!?

    That’s right, how could she enter my life so easily… Chronos could only think of one answer… she somehow resembled “her”. He hated the thought of it, not because Karis wasn’t beautiful or nice, but because he did not plan to have her as a replacement for his dearest.

    And his thoughts were replaced out of the nothingness...

    He remembered a delicate pale skin, en enlightening smile, a pair of heavenly eyes and a warm, soothing feeling on his shoulder. His thoughts would once again be struggling to deny a fact which became as clear as the icy blue eyes reflecting the truth in his mind…

    He already missed her!

    Though there have been a few people mentioned here, the only real tag here if Crystal Tears (Nazara). But don’t worry guys, we’ll be communicating with each other very soon.
    Last edited by Shadow Wolf; 22nd November 2011 at 02:09 PM. Reason: changed a bit some words to correct a description

    Optimist award 2012.

    “There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.” (Linda Grayson)

    Thank you everyone... for being so kind and for bringing out the best in me! You are definitely awesome! ^_^

  20. #20
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    I'll give you a hint. It's cold.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    + - Nazara – +

    It was amusing to Nazara that Sigmund, after all her tasks were done, sent her home. He has hurried her along, saying that the company and he would survive the rest of the day without her. She had kindly asked a couple days off, and he had granted them, so happy that she was finally taking a break from working her ‘tushy’ off.

    Odd man, but she could deal with an understanding, if a little queer boss.

    Her mind wandered to far more important things though.

    Tellus was a scion.

    He didn’t strike her as one of the dark scions, they were all notably… easy to recognize. No, he had to be a light, and she had a particularly good idea on who he was. Muttering that name, of all the names you could possibly utter in some sort of train of thought, wasn’t some random chance. It was just bizarre that she had found him so damned quickly.

    Chronos, she smiled to herself as she sat on a park bench, watching various humans toddle about in the greenery. You haven’t changed at all. Still the little man, doing the dirty work while you’re betters step all over you. The smile stayed as she brought out her fancy little iPhone and began to skim through the various apps Claire had put on it. She opened a note program and typed in Tellus >> Chronos and paused.

    The phone’s screen flipped to one that displayed Eirwyn was calling her.

    Nazara pressed the button and brought the phone to her ear.

    “So, I found Moshinas.”

    Nazara leaned back, she had ran back to the cathedral, changed, and gone out. She much enjoyed jeans and a tank top then any sort of company fancy clothes. “And how is he?”


    “You’ll have to be a little more descriptive,” Nazara frowned and brushed some non-existant dust from her top as a distraction. “He’s never really been our very loose definition of normal.”

    “He’s not going to help.”

    That plucked a nerve, Nazara’s neutral expression turned to a small scowl. She hid the irritation in her voice though. “Oh?”

    “No, he seems a little…” she paused. “Apathetic?”

    That wasn’t nearly as bad as Nazara imagined. “Well, we’ll just have to fix that then.”


    She smiled again. “Let me worry about that, get his number and invite him to the cathedral tomorrow afternoon.”

    “Have you heard from Zedona?”

    “No.” Nazara answered, “He’s fine.”

    “Just, with the wheelchair and all…”

    About to say Eirwyn’s name, she paused. “What’s your actual name?”

    It took the girl just a second to catch on. “Karis.”

    “Use it.”


    “I’ll explain later, I’ll text wheels and tell him. Tell your lazy friend there the same thing.”

    “What about Fenrir?”

    “He’ll be back eventually, assuming he hasn’t screwed up anything already-“

    “I think he lit a building on fire.”

    “… Was anyone notable there?”

    “Not that I know of. No one knew it was even on fire until the entire thing was consumed.” Eirwyn sounded concerned. “Nazara if you can’t control him, he’ll blow our cover before we’re ready.”

    “I’m well aware.” She stood, stretching out her senses to try and find the familiar aura.

    “Found him?” Eirwyn had always been perceptive of when Nazara was looking for someone.

    “He’s heading for the outskirts of the city…” She hurried towards the parking lot and her car. “Trying to stop a fight between him and anybody is a nightmare, where are you? I’ll come get you.”

    “At the corner of Younge and Bathurst.” Nazara could tell Eirwyn was hurrying. “I’ll head over there, you’ll see me.”

    Nazara hung up quickly as she unlocked her car and quickly texted Zedona.

    Host names only.
    Do not give yourself away.

    The engine revved to life. Fenrir couldn’t normally move as fast as a car, but when he was looking for fight, it was amazing how quickly that man could find one. The mazda 3 reversed quickly and swivelled around, hurrying out of the parking lot and onto the streets.

    ~ + ~

    Tag Sam, and Becki. And possibly Blade and Matt is you guys wanna jump in.
    Last edited by Crystal Tears; 22nd November 2011 at 03:48 PM.

  21. #21
    A serious brain-f*** Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    He was itching for a fight. His slaughter had been no more than that, a slaughter. They posed no threat, no challenge, and as a result the initial buzz he had received from the act had already vanished. Even the excitement of getting revenge on Tessa – the end of which had come not an hour earlier – was fading fast. He noted, with great disappointment, that his time with her had not been half as enjoyable as his night with Nazara. He was aware of the fluctuations of pleasure that occurred between partners, but he had never experienced one so great before. It troubled him.

    Bah! This generation of humans is stagnant and dull. I need a challenge. I need- He smirked to himself, a deep growl rumbling in the base of his throat. I need to find a light scion.

    Of course there were problems with this. The goodly counterparts probably wouldn’t be wandering around flashing their auras. Nazara was the one with the knack for sensing them, not him. I expect she won’t take too kindly to me flashing mine either. He sighed at the thought. He hated to hide his aura, it felt cowardly, and he was no coward. He flaunted his aura, let it blaze like a beacon in the minds of his enemies. It was easier that way. That way they came to him. They always came to him. Being tracked could dampen my own plans. He scowled. That would be the most unpleasant of things. He closed his eyes and focused on shutting off his aura. And I didn’t even get to ride my horse into town. For a moment, Fenrir allowed himself the disappointment. He did love to do that.

    Hidden, he frowned. What is there to do now? What fun can be had in this city? A devious thought crossed his mind then. What problem could there be if his fun took place outside of the city? And if memory served, there was scion who loved to live on such outskirts. One that he had clashed with many times in the past as a result of his desire to wander into the neighbouring towns and villages in search of women and possessions. Tsanjel.

    The prospect of tangling with the scion of darkness once more filled him with cool excitement. But how to get there…He saw it and at once knew two things: it was a thing of beauty, and he had to have it. It was his temperament in four-wheeled form. Sleek and black, the front dipped, headlights like focused eyes. This was the car for him. This would be the first thing he pillaged.

    Karik didn’t know a thing about hotwiring a car and he didn’t want to risk damaging such a fine vehicle so Fenrir waited. Twenty minutes passed in torturous slowness. More than once he considered finding another vehicle but that felt too much like admitting defeat. Besides, he wanted that car. And Fenrir always got what he wanted. At last, the driver emerged and as he opened the door to his car, the dark scion was on him. He was a lithe thing. Pathetic and weak. All money and no power; Fenrir’s least favourite type of human. He threw the boy against the wall of the building behind them. “I’m taking this,” he said, simply, and grabbed the keys from his hand. This host better know how to drive. He stuck the key in the ignition and turned. A glorious roar erupted from the beast beneath him and he flexed his hands over the steering wheel, grinning as the sound brought forth the memories of dull lessons. Good thing Karik knew how to pay attention. He pulled the car’s door closed and drove off towards the outskirts.

    * * *
    He drove on instinct, hoping that his gut would lead him to his target. The car groaned at him when he was forced to take it off-road and after a few minutes of listening to it protest, he parked and continued his search on foot. He preferred it this way. He could still remember, at the very start, when mankind was still figuring out how the world worked, how he had hunted with them. It was so long ago it felt more like a dream he might have had as a child but a deeper part of him retained the lessons. Buried somewhere in his subconscious was the art of tracking. And when he came upon a lone set of footprints, he knew exactly how to follow them.

    At tall man awaited him at the end of the trail and though Fenrir hadn’t expected to find a man of such height, neither was he intimidated by it. If anything, the sight pleased him, for he knew that no ordinary man could have attained such height. A scion had to be before him.

    The man was pointing a spear in Fenrir’s direction. He had been waiting for the fire scion’s arrival, and Fenrir guessed that the wind had betrayed him. It didn’t bother him though; he preferred to face his enemy head on. “Who are you?”

    Fenrir spread his arms wide and grinned. “An old opponent.”

    The man merely narrowed his eyes. “I have no business with you, whoever you are.”

    “Perhaps not. But I have business with you, Tsanjel.” Fenrir grinned as the man twitched at the sound of his true name. He shifted his left foot, steadying his balance in case an attack came. He was wary of his surroundings, open to the battlefield. Daylight was still strong, and the shadows were limited, narrowing the ways the scion could attack him. And he was wary of the river which ran alongside him. It was unlikely that it could be used to render him powerless but it could be inconvenient if he lost sight of its presence. “I didn’t take too kindly to the way you ended our last encounter and I’d like a little revenge.” He could feel his awareness sharpening. The lighter in his back pocket pressed against him, reminding him of the power it could lend should he need it. He wasn’t expecting to. His fists could do enough for now. “So, what say you to getting down to business?”

    TAG Blade
    Also, for anyone who wants to see, the car Fenrir stole is this one.

    One signature.
    Experience preferred although training will be provided.
    Witty slogans only, please.

    Imooto-deshi says:

  22. #22
    RPG Dyke's Bitch Moderator
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    Jan 2003
    In your base, killing your dudes.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    Moshinas’ house wasn’t what she expected. As a young man, she expected him to perhaps own a nice apartment, a bachelor pad, not a duplex in the middle of some renovations. Not that it mattered at all, since her house was a pokey little 2 bed house squished in between two much bigger houses either side, with a little garden out the back and no driveway...

    But why should she expect anything of him, since like the others, nothing about Moshinas really stood out to her, with one exception. From the look in his eyes as she duelled him, she remembered his temper, his violence, and was surprised when he backed down so easily after a minor defeat. This was not the Moshinas that she could remember from the first rebellion, and she was curious to know what had changed him. That was for another time, she had to get him on side, somehow, without knowing the circumstances of their last battle.

    As he went to get changed, Eirwyn settled herself in the kitchen. Perhaps she’d taken his hospitality a little too far when she took out a pair of mugs, filled them with milk, warmed them in the microwave and stirred hot chocolate powder into them, but she realised that she hadn’t actually eaten today. Taking food from him would have been a step too far, but the warm drink would keep her going long enough until her next real meal.

    Not wanting to dwell on any thoughts, she flipped on the portable radio and sat next to it on the kitchen counter, sipping away at her drink. She had to focus on getting Moshinas on side, not the few snide comments he had made, and therefore needed a distraction from her thoughts.

    “An office building in central Saint Tesara caught fire earlier today-”

    “Great...” Eirwyn sighed, finding her phone to see if that could distract her instead. “More depressing news...”

    Moshinas joined her shortly afterwards, now clean, fresh and tidy. She didn’t move from her perch, she liked it up there, and offered him his mug. He frowned, he clearly didn’t know what to make of her.

    “You made yourself at home...” He commented, leaning against a counter opposite. He took a sip of his drink. “Hot chocolate? Didn’t think you’d like hot drinks.”

    “Even the coldest of people need a little warmth every now and again.” She smiled, setting both her drink and phone down on the counter beside her. “Look, Moshinas, we need to talk.”

    “No.” He folded his arms defensively. “I’m not joining you in whatever plot to overthrow the Light Scions you have this time.”

    “There is no plot, per se...” Eirwyn started swinging her legs absentmindedly. “Just a meeting, to find out who is here, and to decide what to do-”

    “That sounds distinctly like the beginnings of plotting.”

    “Not exactly, since I have no idea what Nazara has in mind...”

    “Ah.” Moshinas seemed to relax a little. “So Nazara is in charge this time...”

    Eirwyn looked at him blankly for a second. “Yes...” She hopped down off the counter. “Look, I can’t remember the last rebellion, so all these little-”

    “You can’t remember?” For the first time, she saw Moshinas smirk. “Well that’s certainly convenient.”

    “It’s not convenient.” She snatched her phone from the side. “It’s irritating.” She moved her gaze to her phone as she scrolled through it. “I need to call Nazara, tell her I found you.”

    Eirwyn stood just outside the kitchen, so she could still hear Moshinas if he decided to part any more wisdom on her. But he seemed to just listen in as she explained the situation to Nazara. She didn’t pay him much attention, to be honest, until the radio mentioned the fire story in more detail.

    That’s got Fenrir written all over it... She thought. “What about Fenrir?”

    “He’ll be back eventually, assuming he hasn’t screwed up anything already-“

    “I think he lit a building on fire.”

    Once they had quickly decided what to do, she shoved her phone back in her pocket, went back in the kitchen and addressed Moshinas again.

    “What’s your host’s name?” Eirwyn glanced around. If she was gonna get him to come with them, she needed some kind of leverage.

    “Dylan Mer-”

    “Call me Karis from now on, okay?” She spotted his phone, snatching it off the table, entering her number and calling her own phone before he got the chance to snatch it back off her. “It’s so we can keep in contact, regardless if you decide to fight or not. Who knows? Maybe Claire just wants to sit back and see what happens this time.”

    “Unlikely as that is...” Dylan smirked.

    Karis let out a little laugh. “I know...” She folded her arms. “Look, we think Fenrir’s out on a rampage, and we’d appreciate it if you came-”

    “Did I not give out the impression that I do not want to be involved?”

    “Do you want to be exposed to the Light Scions to us by letting Fenrir run riot?”

    “No, but...”

    “Well then.” She smirked, knowing that in all technicalities, she had won. “Let’s go!” She turned to leave.


    She sighed and rolled her eyes, about to argue, but instead spotted Dylan’s sword in the hallway. Ah, yes, leverage... “Well, I’ll just be borrowing this...”

    “Borrowing what?”

    Eirwyn snatched the sword as she ran from the house, making sure he knew she’d taken it. This was a big gamble, there was a large possibility that Moshinas would be able to catch her, but she was lucky that Karis was physically fit enough, and that she had a significant head start. The little patch of ice she left outside the front door also helped her cause; she heard him slip.

    She reached the corner just a few seconds before Nazara did, much to her relief. “Just in time!” She called to Nazara, opening the passenger side door, moving the seat and carefully throwing Moshinas’ sheathed blade onto the back seat.

    “... What’s that for?” Nazara questioned, frowning as Eirwyn leaned against the open car door to catch her breath.

    “Leverage.” She grinned at Dylan as he stopped a few feet away. “Look, sweetie, either you come with us now and I let you have your sword back, or you come pick it up tomorrow afternoon at the Cathedral. Your choice!”

    TAGS~ Erm, I hope I did Moshinas okay. Teehee, stole yer sword
    Last edited by ChobiChibi; 26th November 2011 at 05:17 PM.

    X-rated since April 2012!

    Weasel Overlord says:

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    with my train

  23. #23
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    /\/\/ Dylan Merrimack / Moshinas the Thunder /\/\/

    Dylan felt the energy crackling within his veins, and all at once he ached to kill something. Had he invited Eirwyn into his apartment? Yes, and there had been an implicit invitation to make herself at home there - but now she had abused that trust by taking down his phone number without permission, taking his sword, and disrespecting his right to make his own decision.

    He rushed at Eirwyn, but couldn't stop her before she had climbed into the car and pulled the door shut. He was only barely able to retract his fingers an instant before they would have been slammed in the door frame; he braced himself against the side of the car.

    That look of pure fury was on his face again, and a short burst of electricity wreathed him, traveling from head to toe and back in the span of an instant. Every hair on his body stood up from the jolt, though as short as the hair atop his head was, it wouldn't have been noticeable there. The fingers of his left hand curled, and for a single terrible moment, it looked as if he was about to punch through the car window.

    "Brilliant idea," Nazara muttered; her hands wrapped more tightly about the wheel, now suddenly concerned as to whether she should peel out before the enraged Lightning Scion tried to destroy the vehicle.

    "Wait for it," Eirwyn responded, and she rolled the window down, mustering the sweetest expression she was able to put on, right in his face. She stuck her head out the window and stared at him with that smirk on her features, as if daring him to strike. "C'mon... you wouldn't hit a girl, would you?"

    His fingers flexed once, twice, three times - but on the third squeeze, it was already clear that indeed, he would not. Instead, he snarled through clenched teeth. "What do you want, Eirwyn?"

    "Might want to stick to calling me Karis," Eirwyn advised. "And I already told you what I want. I want you to come meet with us. It'd be nice if you were along to help round up Fenrir, too. After all that, then you can make an educated decision about what you'll do with your future."

    "My future is my own. I'm not giving you permission to try to change it for me."

    "Funny, I didn't hear her ask you for permission," Nazara replied. "And guess what - nobody else will, either. When the Light Scions come knocking on your door, what're you going to do about it? You want to be all by yourself, or you want some backup?"

    "You might want to think about that question. If you have an answer we haven't thought of, come with us and share it... but if you don't, all the more reason to come along and try to find it." Karis looked Dylan up and down. "Anyway, we don't have time to stand around and argue, so if you're coming, get in and take your sword back."

    Electricity flashed up and down Dylan's body again, and both fists were clenched so tightly that his nails were nearly piercing the skin of his palms. "Get the hell away from my house."

    She wasn't fazed. "Such as it is."

    The car pulled away from the curb and was down the road before Dylan had the slightest idea how to respond.


    He'll be stewing over this one for a while - really don't know how he'll want to answer the theft, except that he knew going nuts at that particular moment wasn't going to help anything, and would probably only have resulted in his severe injury or death.

  24. #24
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    I'll give you a hint. It's cold.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    - + Nazara + -

    “So, you pissed him off.” Nazara noted, as they rounded a corner. They were getting closer; she could sense the other scion.

    “We have his sword at least; he’ll have to come to the meeting to get it.” Eirwyn shrugged, smiling. “I thought it through, promise.”

    Nazara let a small smirk appear. “I know.”

    They were really in the middle of nowhere; the outskirts of the city weren’t filled with the glistening lights or life of downtown. It was quiet, with the river emptying into the ocean, with fields and trees and…


    “None of them have changed.” Nazara noted, noting how the road turned to gravel and dirt. A sleek, shiny car was on the side, and towards the river was two men, one looking rather familiar, and the other a stranger. They were beating on each other, engaged in an intense fight.

    “How do you plan on breaking them up – what are you doing?!”

    The car did a sharp turn off the road, spraying gravel behind it as it accelerated and flew towards the pair. The men didn’t even notice until the car was near them, pushing off one another just in time for the mazda to come between them. Eirwyn was quick to get out of the car, rushing to meet the recovering enemy, why Nazara swung open her door and glared fire and hell down on Fenrir.

    He seemed surprise to see her at first, and then smirked.

    “Hi Honey,”

    She scowled, hearing that mocking tone. She stepped forward, using all her willpower to not summon her blade and cut his damn head off.

    “Get in the car.”

    “I don’t think I will,” he smirked, clenching his fists. “I have a fight to finish… and you’re in my way.”

    Having no intention of moving, Nazara spared a glance to Eirwyn, who was holding her own against the other man. She looked back at Fenrir to find he was much closer, and his fist had collided into her stomach. She gasped, her diaphragm collapsing and forcing the oxygen from her lungs she bent over, wheezing.

    Alright, that was her mistake. Looking away from a raging beast like Fenrir did have consequences.

    Fenrir wasn’t going to give her a lot of time to recover, she stepped back, coughing.

    Thank the gods for allies.

    Eirwyn was suddenly between Nazara and Fenrir, she was less intimidating then even the light scion, but she held her own. She leapt up; using both feet she squarely kicked him in the chest and sent him flying backwards as she hit the ground, scrambling to her feet. Fenrir rose to his feet soon after, blocking new blows from the ice scion before he grabbed her and literally threw her back towards Nazara.

    Eirwyn yelped.

    Nazara reached out, snatching Eirwyn’s hand she spun around and flung her friend right back at the fire scion. His eyes went wide with surprise when again the woman slammed into him, she body checked him, a move that wouldn’t have normally done any damage but with the force behind it, Fenrir was sent careening into a tree while Eirwyn rolled on the ground.

    Nazara caught the staff that had nearly slammed into her face. She and the enemy scion looked at each other.

    “… Who are you?” He spoke, in a cool, monotone voice.

    She didn’t answer, just forced the weapon away before briefly sparring with the man. They broke apart quickly, staring each other down.

    “Leave.” She ordered, gesturing to the forest.

    He paused, looking between the three, before turning and taking him leave.

    “No!” Fenrir roared, knocking Eirwyn away like a runt. He stomped towards Nazara. “What the hell are you doing?”

    Watching her team mate recover and flash an OK sign, Nazara focused on Fenrir.

    “Get, in the god damn car.” She pointed to it as Eirwyn pulled up closer to them. She saw Fenrir’s gaze shoot across to the forest, but she brought to back to her quickly by roughly touching his cheek and making him look at her. “Now.”

    He snorted, tearing his face away he got in the back seat as Nazara rounded the vehicle and got in the passenger side. Eirwyn was quick to pull away from the scene get back onto the road, heading right back towards the city.

    “You torched a building…” Nazara commented, knowing that her companion was far from happy.

    “So? You suddenly care for humanity?”

    “No.” She didn’t spare him a glance. “What I care about is you giving everything away.”

    “Well I don’t give a shit-“

    Nazara turned around to face him, no one was around the car, they were far from the bustling city and people. Maybe that’s why she didn’t care when she summoned her blade and it was again, mere millimeters from his neck. One bump or sharp turn would’ve caused it to slit his throat.

    “We had a deal Fenrir,” she snapped. “You want to burn down a block or two? Fine. But don’t you fucking dare go attacking every damned scion you happen to sense. Because now, if that one keeps in contact with any of his allies, he can tell them some moron attacked him and some others had to come and round him up.”

    Fenrir was so angry that the air around him was wavering.

    “Who um,” Eirwyn gulped. “Was that?”

    “Tsanjel.” Fenrir grumbled, watching Nazara’s blade slowly retracted and vanished.

    “What’s your host name?” Nazara questioned then.


    “Use it, don’t use our real names.”

    “Who’s she?”

    “Eirwyn.” She returned, glancing back at the male scion through the rear-view mirror. “Um, Karis.”

    “And you’re name?” His glare was far more intense against Nazara, who chose to ignore him and answer a text from Zedona. “Claire.”

    Claire: Have you found any of them?
    Xavier: Yes. She’s heading to a diner.
    Claire: Anything else?
    Xavier: Strong feelings from this place. There might be another.
    Claire: How did she get there?
    Xavier: She cut through the park on Elgin. Lots of people, she was grinning the entire way.
    Claire: Alright. The rest of the day is yours…

    The ride back into the city was awkward, angry and quiet. Whenever the silence was broken, it was from Eirwyn trying hard to get either of the other two to talk. Nazara outright refused to speak to Fenrir, who seemed intent on starting an argument or enraging the leader of the group.

    “Pull over.” Nazara ordered, thankful they had reached the park. She looked over at Eirwyn and handed her a credit card. “Go buy a car and get rid of this one.”

    Eirwyn looked at the shiny gold card and looked back at Nazara. “Any car?”

    “A reasonable car.” She frowned. “I’ll have to explain to Sigmund why I suddenly needed a new one.”

    “So, it’s your car…” She seemed a little upset.

    “Oh for…” Nazara shook her head and opened the door, stepping out. “Fine, get yourself one too. But don’t go crazy, or I will kill you.”

    “Alrighty.” She smiled, nodding.

    Shutting her door, the light scion began to walk away until she heard another door open and shut. She paused, turning slowly to see Fenrir shrug off Eirwyn, who just sighed inside the car and pulled away.

    Nazara’s expression said it all; she turned her back to Fenrir and walked off.

    She kept walking, one benefit to being female this time around: she had genetic permission to hold a grudge.


    She was hoping the amount of people in this place might dissuade him. But he wasn’t known for being cowardly or caring that much about causing a scene. He didn’t bother calling out her name this time, just snatched her arm and made her stop.

    She yanked her arm away from him and scowled.

    “What?” She growled. “Don’t you have a fire pit you could go burn your ass on?”

    He smirked, but seeing her expression made him force the smirk down. “Did I really piss you off?”

    “No Karik, I’m peachy. Really.” She turned away and took a step.

    “I wasn’t trying to.”

    She froze. That sentence didn’t sound cocky, confident, annoying, mocking, or anything she would pin on Fenrir. Slowly she turned back to him, arms crossed. Obviously still defensive and irritated.

    “Just wanted a bit of excitement.” He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Didn’t want to ruin anything you had planned.”

    Nazara’s expression was cool and mildly suspicious. “Are you apologizing?”

    “No.” He grunted.

    She snorted, looking away.

    “Hey Karik!”

    Fenrir blinked, and turned around. Claire neared him, peering around him at the three men striding up to them.

    “Who are they?” She questioned in a hushed tone.

    “From work.” He narrowed his eyes. “They must’ve not been there…”

    “When…?” Nazara remembered what Eirwyn said. “Oh…”

    They laughed at the angry look Fenrir gave them and glanced at Claire.

    “You weren’t at work eh?” One questioned. “Place is still burning.”

    “Who is this?”

    Claire scowled, taking a step back as the human invaded her space.

    “You got a girl Karik?” The third laughed, not believing it. “Honey if he’s bothering you, we can make him leave.”

    “Go away.” Fenrir snarled, probably trying his damndest not to light them on fire.

    “Aww but you should introduce us!”


    “C’mon!” They laughed. “Not like she’s yours!”

    To stop Fenrir from killing them, and everyone in the park, she grabbed him. Turn his head to face her (she seemed to have to do that a lot) she kissed him. He froze for a second, though obviously lust outweighed anger because he was thoroughly enjoying the scene they were creating and the gawking faces of the morons. Claire broke the kiss off, and looked back over at them.

    Fenrir glared. “Fuck off.”

    They backed off, leaving quickly. Nazara put a bit more space between herself and Fenrir. He was still glaring at them.

    “I need to find out where they live.”

    “... Apology accepted.”

    He shot a look back at her. “I wasn’t-“

    “Shut up.”

    He snorted, put off for a moment before he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “Make me.”

    She glared at him, but used the proximity to swipe his phone and input his number into her phone. She pushed him away lightly, fighting from his grasp. “Get out of here, I need to meet someone.”

    Fenrir eyed her. “Who?”

    “Just go.” She sighed at him. “Go gamble or something.”

    “With what money?” He joked. “I’m piss-ass poor, and you didn’t give me a credit card.”

    “And I never will.” She retorted. “Go,” She smirked at him. “Now.”

    “Fine.” He walked off. “Have fun on your play date!”

    “Asshole…” She muttered, turning and heading towards a park bench. She wanted to meet this scion who had headed to the diner, and this was the only real notable park on Elgin. All she had to do was sit and wait.

    - + ! + -
    Last edited by Crystal Tears; 9th December 2011 at 06:35 PM.

  25. #25
    Beginning Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Timothy Serrano’s was sad. Which meant, more so than usual. Normally, he already worried about a lot of things. Like the lives of the people in the hospital he was working in, what he might do to help whoever else made the impression of being stressed or unhappy, all kinds of injustice in society – no, one couldn’t really say that he was indifferent to his surroundings. He tried his best to be cheerful, but was by no means always successful. And feeling whenever someone died was not particularly helpful for that. Of course, it was a natural thing, and it had to happen. But somehow, in the last few centuries, there had been so much pain he’d grown weary of it. There had been new, more efficient ways to kill people. There had been wars, still were. And despite doing all he could to help humanity, he was not certain anymore it was enough.

    This morning, they’d got a call about a traffic accident, and as soon as Timothy Serrano had got there, he’d known it was too late. Two people were involved, and both their lives were hardly more than a flickering, futilely struggling against the inevitable. What made it worse was that he could have saved them. It would have taken him some effort, but he should have been able to do it. And yet, he didn’t. He, who was sent to protect mankind, he who was if not the only one able to help them, he let them die before his eyes.

    Of course, he had thought this through many times. It was impossible for him to help everyone, and he had sworn to himself he’d never make a choice whom to heal and whom not to. He’d done this mistake once, and it had turned out to become one of his most painful memories. To him it had seemed that every dead face was asking him the wordless question ”Why not me?”.

    Instead, he did what he could to make their departure as peaceful as possible. He had used his powers and gently touched them, calming their fears. He could afford doing so; it didn’t take much energy and, besides, he would get it back. Because once they had actually fallen into a light slumber, he took away the rest of their life force. He actually killed them. Every time he told himself that the energy would otherwise be wasted, that they would only suffer otherwise, and, logically, it was the best solution, really. But then again, every time he had to do this he hated himself a tiny little bit for it – and his ability.

    It was not much later that he suddenly felt people dying, not so far away. Timothy almost dropped something a cup of tea when it happened, and it took him some effort to stop himself from shivering. It hurt him almost physically when someone just… vanished. Even though it had to have been an accident this time, he’d have noticed any human being near. Fortunately. Whenever faced with murder, Timothy faced a burning rage deep inside him. People didn’t know what they were destroying. They couldn’t sense the precious thing they carelessly tore to pieces and yet… It was not his task to judge them. He was sent to protect them, and under no circumstances he was allowed to give in to his own anger. That had also happened already. Killing someone wouldn’t make anyone else come back to life.

    It had been, as far as he could tell, a painful death. And, apparently, that had left visible traces on him; he tried to reassure his colleagues that he was not feeling bad at all, and they only imagined him being a bit more pale and absent-minded than usual, but was not really convincing. There was no way he could have told them the actual reason, and it was only him who know that it was close to impossible for him to get physically ill. He was told rather strictly to take the afternoon off.
    Even though it was a bit of a bother sometimes, Timothy found it rather touching at times to see how his workmates worried about him. His ability made others feel at ease near him, and consequently they easily took a liking to him. It was only occasionally that he felt guilty about that, too – as if he was manipulating them.

    For some time, he aimlessly wandered around, without knowing what he actually was looking for. Maybe he just needed to see with his own eyes how normal life resumed, how quickly the situation could return to normal, as if it had never happened, maybe it was something else entirely. But Timothy felt a pacifying calm rising in him, and gently brushing aside the feeling of death. Of course, he would not forget it, neither now or at any time in the future, but the pain slowly subsided. The sun was already beginning to set; it seemed he had spent more time sauntering than he’d thought. His feet had carried him to the entrance of a park; when he thought about it, it wasn’t very surprising. Children were playing somewhere near, other people just relaxing, and together with all the plants and animals, the place was just more alive than the rest of the town. He could not help but smile watching as some little birds were landing on the bushes nearby, and questioningly chirping in his direction. Animals being unusually confiding towards him wasn’t anything new towards Timothy, but it still was comforting. Simple as they were, their only trouble in the whole world seemed to be how to find the next worm.
    Timothy was suddenly brought back into reality when he felt someone bumping straight into him rather hard. Somehow, he managed to keep into his balance and saw a young woman just about to pick herself up. He could not help but notice that she was beautiful, and in one hand she was holding a phone – probably the reason why she’d not looked ahead. Well, unlike him, she did have a reason at least.
    “I am really sorry”, he said, and meant it, offering her a hand. “Are you alright?”


    I really hope that's better now. Again, sorry for delaying everything.
    Tags - Nazara
    Last edited by Uraziel; 10th December 2011 at 06:09 PM.

  26. #26
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    = + - Nazara - + =

    Not who she was looking for. That was definitely a fact; she had been sat on the bench, waiting for the light scion in the diner, when to her surprise another appeared in the park.

    It took her a moment to find the other, the crowds of people passing her by made it difficult until it showed he was the one trailing behind another group, enjoying the scenery of the park. He watched the child play with a small, innocent smile on his face. His attention moved to the bird watchers and the sparrows.

    Claire narrowed her eyes, and flicked open her phone.

    Claire: Where are you?

    Karik: Headin out of the park. Why?

    Claire: Don’t leave. I found one. Find me, but don’t come over.

    She stood a second later, playing as if her phone was really that interesting. Her path wobbled, barely managing to walk around a few humans who shot her an annoyed glare at her lack of attention before she smacked right into the scion.

    The two of them looked at each other. Claire blinked, feigning daze. He offered her his hand.

    “I am really sorry, are you alright?”

    She looked at the hand and took it slowly, being brought to her feet by him. Claire smiled a little sheepishly. “I’m fine, thanks… God I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going…”

    “It’s alright.” He smiled, and they took there for a second or two, in awkward silence.

    “Um…” Nazara drew on Claire’s natural curiosity and goodness. “Are you, waiting for somebody?”

    “Hm?” He blinked.

    “Well, most people don’t come to the park alone.” She smiled, looking around at the people. Children had friends, teenagers had cliques, adults had their dates, associate…

    “Oh, no.” The scion looked at the people. “No, I um… just wanted to clear my head.”

    “Oh?” She tilted her head. “Why?”

    “Um…” He gave her an odd look. “My work… sorry, it’s not that I don’t trust you… just I don’t know you.” He shifted, maybe uncomfortable with the topic. “I don’t even know your name.”

    Nazara hated this. She could easily just text Fenrir and have the fire scion kill him, but that would ruin all the planning she had done.

    “Oh my god, I’m… just out of it today.” She smiled, offering her hand. “My name’s Claire – Claire Reynolds.”

    He didn’t hesitate to take her hand. “I’m Timothy Serrano.”

    As their handshake broke, Claire’s phone went off. She looked at the screen seeing a text.

    Karik: Fuck he’s boring. Hurry up.

    “My friend’s waiting for me,” she glanced behind her, as if looking for someone. “Um… I’ll see you ‘round, okay?”

    Timothy nodded. “Sure.”

    They parted, and Claire walked off quickly. She rounded a corner, out of sight of her new acquaintance and nearly ran into Fenrir. She frowned at him, looking at her text and then at him.


    “He was.”

    “You have the maturity of a five year old.” She muttered, both of them heading out of the park.

    “Karis got two cars.” He shrugged. “A mini cooper and a Cadillac.”

    “That’s going to be fun explaining to my boss… What about my mazda?”

    “It’s in public storage… under her name.” Karik looked at her, half-curious. “Why can’t I have a car?”

    “Because until you prove you can be subtle, you don’t get one.”

    “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snarled, angered.

    “It means don’t steal cars,” she hissed in a lower tone. “Use the damn bus.”

    She quickly texted Karis to meet them.

    “What’s the next step?” Her companion questioned. “I’m getting sick of this cat and mouse crap.”

    “It’s the first day.” She shot him a look. “I’m trying to figure everything out.” Looking up at him, Claire patted Karik on the cheek. “When we’re ready, you’ll be the first to know.”

    “Good.” He looked around with a bit of a frown. “Days gettin’ late…”

    “So?” She didn’t look up from her phone as she texted Zedona. “What’s your point?”

    “… Our deal.”

    She snapped a look at the man. “Really?” He gave her a playful smirk and shrugged. Nazara rolled her eyes. “You can wait.”

    He snorted. “What are we going to do? Plot some more?”

    The woman held her tongue for a second. “Yes.”


    “Because-” She snapped at him, but caught herself. “I’ll you later.”

    “Are you that paranoid?”

    “Being careful is not being paranoid.”

    Surprisingly avoiding the argument, Karik sighed and looked away. Watching as a red mini cooper pulled up the curb. The two of them walked over, seeing a rather happy Karis inside, grinning at them. Nazara got in the front was Fenrir hopped in the back.

    They pulled away quickly, leaving the park behind.

    Tag Sam and Becki

  27. #27
    The destroyer of worlds Elite Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    +==Zedona the Plague==+

    Zedona’s mission was both an easy and a challenging one. It was easy in the fact that he could easily sense the Scions of Light. They had no idea that they had reawakened, and their auras were flaring. He could pick up at least five of them in the city. Who knew how many more of them there were. It would be no problem finding them.

    Then there was the challenging part. Despite appearing human, he was still wheelchair bound and quite sickly. He stood out like a sore thumb. Honestly, people would take notice of the sick, wheelchair guy stalking them, and even if they couldn’t tell he was a scion due to him suppressing his aura, it wouldn’t take much for them to call the cops on him. He guess he could actually interact with the people he despised so much, but it would be odd for some random wheelchair guy to come up to them and say “Hi”. Zedona would have to be really, really careful in this mission.

    He closed his eyes, focusing on the different auras he could sense. He could sense two of them coming together. The crackling of electricity, and the cool flowing of water. Saighneán and Graxdon. A wave of anger swept over him at the memory of the two scions, before he shook his head. No, he had to keep focused. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. Still, it was better to get as much info on as many of the enemy as he could. Lightning and Water it was.

    He began to make his way down the streets, following the auras. One seemed to be moving while the other was staying stationary. He chose to head for the water aura, since it didn’t appear to be moving. Easier to catch up to. It was during this trip that another problem with his current form arose. Being sickly as he was, he was constantly being stopped by people, asking him if he was ok. While it was a little touching, it was starting to get annoying fast. Why did he have to constantly be reborn in a sickly form? Damn the gods and damn the scions of Light for condemning him to this living hell! He would make each and every one of them pay!

    He soon came to a Café. The Borderlines Café to be exact. He remembered coming here a couple of times in his life. Who knew that one of his arch enemies came here, or possibly even worked here. He entered and quietly made his way to a table in the corner of the restaurant. He kept his eyes open, looking out for the Scion of Water, and the Scion of Lightning who would be here any minute now.


    TAG Asi, Divineall, and anyone else wanting to stop by.
    I'm in your dimensions, screwing with your reality!

  28. #28
    A serious brain-f*** Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    Much to his surprise, the fire scion didn’t mind the delay in his nightly activities as much as he had expected to. He sat in the back of Eirwyn’s midget car, appearing to the world as if he was brooding, when in reality he was deep in thought. The reason for his reflections? The woman sat in the passenger seat in front of him. He kept trying to convince himself that his actions earlier that afternoon had not been an attempt at apologising – Fenrir did not apologise. But he couldn’t find a way to make it sit right with him.

    His broodings made the journey pass quickly and before long he was scrambling out of Eirwyn’s miniature car. No one tried to confront them as they walked into the section of the Cathedral where he and Nazara had spent the night before.

    “Make yourselves comfortable. I think there’s some kind of kitchen or whatever through there.” She waved a hand in the direction of a wooden door sitting half open to the side of the corridor then wandered to where he knew the bedroom was in order to start thinking – or whatever it was she needed to do.
    It left the Fire Scion feeling…pissed. For lack of a better word. Under Nazara’s orders he was under house arrest. Plundering, pillaging, all those little things that he enjoyed were forbidden, and whilst the knowledge of that gave him a thrill of rebelliousness he knew it was a feeling that he needed to keep under wraps. He needed Nazara. Not in any twisted human emotional sense of the word but in a practical one. She had become necessary to his plans and he would be damned if he let anyone get in the way of them.

    Even himself.

    He wandered into the kitchen area and scoured the cupboards and fridges for anything of use. His body was yelling at him to supply alcohol – and acceptable indulgence, he thought – but there was none to be had. There was nothing to be had save for a few coffee-stained mugs and a rusty water tap. He grunted and grabbed a mug. He was halfway through filling it when Eirwyn joined him.
    “Is there anything in here?”
    “Just water.”
    “That’ll do.” She stretched up beside him to grab herself a mug and from the corner of his eye he admired her figure. In terms of leadership and personality he didn’t rate Eirwyn. He hadn’t seen anything of worth in her in the first rebellion and he knew enough of the second to know that she had done nothing to warrant a change in his opinion. But in terms of physique…he couldn’t deny that the ice princess had something going for her.

    And she had to go and fall in love with one of those damn God-humpers.

    Her emotions were a liability to them. But that wasn’t his concern. Nazara would be the one to make sure every ally – even one as unreliable as Eirwyn – was kept under wraps. And if the girl strayed…well…sacrifices had been made before.

    He took a sip of water and frowned at the taste. Luke warm and metallic. As if he wasn’t wishing for a beer already. He held the mug towards Eirwyn. “Think you could do something about this?”

    She turned to him, her own mug of water in her hands. He could sense she was cooling it. It was a knockback of their types. His natural heat made him more sensitive to her presence and more aware of when she was using her powers. She said nothing but raised her eyebrows at him, the same way a parent would to a child who had made the same request.

    He sighed. “Please.” A part of him died and as she took the mug from him, a satisfied smile on her face, he resisted the urge to hit her. That anyone but Nazara could get away with treating him as such was unacceptable but he also knew that anything he did to harm the girl was likely to bring the leader’s wrath down upon him. And he really didn’t want that.
    As she was handing him back his drink her phone began to ring. He watched the pained expression form on her face as she looked at the screen and then moved into another room, answering the call as she went.

    Curious, Fenrir followed. He only dared to get close enough to catch the tone of her voice. He knew she would be able to sense him as easily as he could her and he didn’t want to get caught. Whatever her exchange was, he could only tell it flared her emotions. There was sadness there; z deep sadness. He knew the sound of it. He’d never experienced it but many had been the woman he’d met with it. It was the sound of a scarred heart. It was an opportunity.

    He made sure she bumped into him on her way back through. “What’s the emergency?”

    “I – Karis has training. I completely forgot and –“

    “You’re working yourself up over your host’s duties? Those aren’t your responsibilities anymore.”

    “Well regardless of what you think, Karik, I need to do this.” She pushed passed him and starting making her way towards the bedroom and Nazara.

    Fenrir sighed and followed. He doubted Nazara was going to side with him on this one but he wanted to be there in case she did.

    “I agree. It’s best if you go.”

    Fenrir leaned into the doorway. Whatever Eirwyn’s explanation had been it had certainly been a short one.

    Nazara looked up and saw him, then released a sigh. “Have Fenrir drive you.” It had that “I can’t believe I’m saying this” tone to it.

    The Fire Scion raised his eyebrows. Eirwyn, for her part, just looked confused.

    “Zedonas is still out there. Chances are he’s going to ask for a ride at some point in the near future and I have no intention of playing taxi. If you take your car then that only leaves mine and I’m not letting Fenrir loose in my new vehicle. Therefore, Fenrir will take you to practice.” At this point she turned to him, her gaze fixed and heavy. “And after you have dropped her off, you will come straight back here, understand? No detours.”

    He frowned but nodded. “If you say so.”

    She turned back to Eirwyn and instantly her expression softened. “Let me know when you’ve finished and either Fenrir or I will come and get you.”

    The girl was clearly unhappy with his part in this but neither of them had a choice. She nodded and thanked Nazara and the two of them made their way.

    It was a short drive but they had to detour to Karis’ home so that she could collect some of her belongings. Fenrir silently berated the car for its size. He felt embarrassed just to be seen with it, let alone being behind the wheel. He actually released a sigh of relief when Eirwyn left the car and disappeared into the ice rink. But his relief was short lived. When he pulled to a stop at the exit of the car park, something shot forward and hit itself against the floor of the car. Looking down, he spotted Eirwyn’s phone.

    “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…”

    He moved the car to a space, grabbed the phone, and headed in through the same door he’d seen Eiwyn use. She was easy to find. The sound of music and criticism was an excellent guide. He emerged at the edge of the ice rink. Eirwyn was just stepping on to the ice; a man at the centre of the rink was chewing her out for her lateness. The man saw Fenrir and glared. “Who the fuck are you?”

    Fenrir supressed a reactionary attack. It would be so easy to destroy the ice beneath him and cook him in a bowl of boiling water. No, that was too fast. Fenrir would drown him instead.

    “Karik? What are you doing here?”

    He held up her phone and walked over. “You left this in the car.”

    “It’s like you don’t want this rehearsal to go ahead.”

    Fenrir walked to the very edge of the rink and when Eirwyn took the phone from him he pulled her close and kissed her. He even took extra effort to slip his hand round the back of her exposed thigh. Partly for the thrill of feeling her natural coolness but mostly to unsettle the human he greatly desired to destroy. As he broke away from her whispered to her, “Next time, I’ll just kill him.”

    He left, a smirk appearing on his face as he wandered out of the building. It was still there when he got back to the Cathedral.

    “What did you do?” Nazara had left the comfort of her room to get a drink and they had crossed paths on her return journey.

    “I gave the guy hassling Eirwyn something to think about.”

    She shot him a glare.

    “I didn’t touch him. I just made him think she was dating someone better than he was.”

    She just shook her head and turned from him, making for her room. “Don’t sleep with her.”

    He frowned at her as she disappeared. It had sounded like her usual orders. There was still that threat of complete and utter destruction should he defy her but there was something else there too. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Probably more trouble for me. He shrugged and found himself somewhere to settle. With his nature imprisoned and his company undesired, the least he could do was try and enjoy some peace.

    At least until his anticipated antics with Nazara later.

    One signature.
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    Imooto-deshi says:

  29. #29
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    I'll give you a hint. It's cold.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    - + Nazara + -

    She had fallen asleep.

    She was keenly aware of this fact because she was standing in the middle of a simple white room. She had been in the church, so Nazara naturally caught on that unless Fenrir was playing some sort of horrible prank that he would pay dearly for, this had to be a dream.

    A dream that decided to spawn ghostly images of her fellow dark scions, all in what she could presume was their modern day form. Nazara rose a brow at the sight, crossing her arms as they all looked towards her, their eyes nothing but white sockets.

    Unnerving, but she’d had worse dreams.

    Then they began to fade, to the point where only Eirwyn, Fenrir, Zedona, and Moshinas remained.

    “You don’t have an army this time.” Fenrir commented, looking at the others.
    Nazara frowned.

    “Of all the historical beings you’ve been, you have always lost the war… a great leader that was always fighting a battle that will inevitably be lost.” Zedona sat up in his wheelchair, and matched Nazara’s frown. “Why will this be different?”

    “A brilliant leader but unethically sound, you’d sacrifice everyone and everything to win.” Eirwyn cast her eyes to the ground. “Do we mean so little to you?”

    The light scion clenched her fists.

    “You’re playing a long, dark game Nazara.” Moshinas stepped up, sword in hand. “What if we no longer want to be your pawns?” He pointed the tip of the blade at her in the form of a challenge.

    The dream was certainly infuriating. Her clenched fists had white knuckles and suddenly two blades spawn from her wrists, glowing a faint glow and giving off wisps of light.

    “Without me you’d all be brooding in the muck, forever in the shadows of those who created us!” Her swords grew longer in her rage and she smashed Monshinas’s weapon from his grasp. She was thrown into a fray with all four of them in an instant, and the elements clashed as the lost ones just watched.

    Her body was burnt, with her muscles uncontrollably twitching from electricity, coupled with a sickness burning her lungs and the bitter cold turning her digits black - she looked defeated. Yet she stood weakly, refusing to bow to any of them.

    “I will win.” She snarled.

    The dream abruptly ended then, as she opened her eyes groggily and found herself staring at the bedroom wall. She blinked slowly, reality fluttering back into perception. She ignored Fenrir, who was no doubt sitting on the bed behind her as she grabbed her phone and looked at her clock.

    9:47 PM.

    “What happened to Karis?”

    “She called; I picked her up and took her home.” Fenrir answered as Nazara rubbed her eyes and rolled over. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, she had just laid down a couple of hours ago to think things over. Fenrir smirked at her, eyes twinkling with an intent that was far from innocent. “So… how’re you?”
    “Your fake concern is touching, please shut up for a second.” She retorted, reading her texts from Eirwyn and Zedona.

    Both were safe at home, though Zedona claimed to have something interesting to talk about tomorrow if they had time.

    “You’re tense.” He snickered, grabbing her and pulling her close. “You should learn to relax…” He kissed her neck and she frowned, shrugging off the affection so she could glare at him.

    “I’m thinking you actually don’t deserve this.”

    Instantly the man seemed concerned. Fenrir was far too easy to read. “Why?”

    Her glare turned into a less threatening frown. “Well seeing as you nearly ruined everything today-“

    “I apologized-” He cut himself off and she could feel him heat up in anger as she broke into laughter.

    “So you did apologize!”

    His embrace tightened around her chest. “Woman, I am warning you…”

    “Aw,” she patted him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, am I upsetting wittle Karik?”

    Oh the look she got. Despite the impending doom she couldn’t help but continue laughing. Fenrir watched her for a good couple of seconds before he flipped her over, pinning her roughly.

    “You are going to regret that – and don’t call me that...”

    Nazara stifled her laughter and let a bemused smirk appear on her face. Her eyebrow rose slowly.

    “What?” She buried the anxiety in her with attitude. “Karik?”

    Fenrir let out a growl that was both intriguing and intimidating. He looked over at a lit candle, something he must’ve lit before she woke up. The fire snaked its way from the wax starting point to her, tying itself like rope around her wrists, and then twisting the rest of itself into a knot, binding her to the bed.

    “Huh…” She tugged on the fire rope and found herself bound. “Alright, I’ll admit I didn’t see that coming…”

    He smiled, though it was about the furthest you could get from comforting, caring or at all pleasant. He leaned down, narrowing his eyes.

    “Now – what did you call me?”

    Unwillingly to admit defeat, Nazara kept her amused expression, and let the name slip off her tongue in a sensual taunt. “Karik.”

    - + -

    The distinctive tone of her phone going off is what woke Nazara. She grumbled, managing to crack an eye to stare at the sleek white phone on the side table. She didn’t move, instead watching and waiting for it to stop ringing. It fell silent a moment later, and the woman let her eyes drift shut.
    Then it rang again.

    Both eyes opened, with a groan she reached out and grabbed the device and brought it to her ear.


    “Na – I mean Claire, it’s Xavier.”

    “What time is it?”

    “Nine thirty.”

    “In the morning?”

    Probably taken aback by the really strange question, Zedona paused before he replied. “Err, yes, in the morning.”

    “Who the fuck is calling you this early?”
    “Is that Karik?”

    “What did he call me?”

    “No it’s not-“

    “Is that the disease-ridden-“

    Switching her phone to her other ear, Nazara reached behind her and clamped her hand over the fire scion’s mouth.

    “What’s up Xavier?”

    “I tracked down two of the others.” Zedona was slow to reply again, obviously suspicious. “One lives in town-housing, packed with people…”

    “And the other?”

    “The other is the one who owns the diner, neither of them are aware of our awakening.”

    Nazara smiled at the progress and removed her hand from Fenrir’s mouth, she turned over and shot him a glare.

    “You’ve done well Xavier, what’s the address of the town-housing one?”

    “456 Cedar Crescent.”

    “We can get rid of one then-”

    “I get to kill someone?”

    “That is Fenrir!”

    “Oh for the love of god…” Nazara glared hell on her companion, who simply smirked. “Don’t use his name…”

    “Why is he with you?” Zedona’s suspicion grew into anger. “In fact if you were asleep why was he there?”

    “I fuckin’ slept with her!” The fire scion snatched the phone from Nazara quickly. “How’s that sit with ya?”

    She couldn’t hear what Zedona was saying to Fenrir, but from the grin on the man’s face she knew he had pissed the poisoner off to no end. She sat up, grasping for her phone only to have to wrestle with a man twice her size for the contraption.

    “Give it back.” She growled, trying to get it back.

    “In fact,” Fenrir easily pinned her down, not really minding the entire scenario. “We have this deal, I get to- OW! What the hell woman! Don’t Bite – not now anyway!”

    Nazara had gotten free only due to the point she had bit the hand holding her. She wrestled her phone back from Fenrir just long enough to tell Zedona to get to the church by getting a ride with Karis. After that the phone was stolen from her again.

    “You still there wheels?” His smirk faded a bit when he got no reply from Zedona, and he hung up. He met Nazara’s eyes and he shrugged. “Oh he’ll get over it.”

    “You’re an asshole.” She snarled, and laid back down, arms crossed, glaring at the wall. “Get out.”

    There was silence, but it was broken by the man’s chuckling. “You care too much about him.”

    “I don’t give a rat’s ass about him.” She countered, not glancing behind her when Fenrir laid back down behind her.

    “So, why can’t I taunt him?”

    “Because I don’t need you two trying to kill each other.”

    Fenrir draped an arm over her. “I would never try to kill him… I would always succeed.”


    “I thought you had to call me Karik…”

    She snorted. “And who is going to tell the others? The pastor?” The woman rolled her eyes. “In the church is fine…” Still refusing to look at him, she clarified her before statement. “I don’t need him attempting to kill you, and you lighting him on fire.”

    “Ha!” His laugh made her look back finally, confused. He looked at her, smiling. “I wouldn’t light him on fire to kill him; I would just find some hill and give him a nudge.”

    Nazara frowned, only because she didn’t want to smile.

    “Can you picture it?” He looked up to the ceiling, and gestured as if it were some magnificent scene. “Some screaming idiot, wildly flailing his arms as he zooms through traffic…”

    Her smirk broke through, and she looked away, stifling her laughter.

    “I’ll strap a bomb to him, make him a bit useful.”

    She laughed.

    “What does it matter if he knows we’re sleeping together?” Fenrir sounded genuinely confused.

    “He likes me.”


    She looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m using that to keep control of him.”
    Fenrir smirked. “So, you’re sleeping with me, lying to Eirwyn and blue-balling Zedona…” He gave her a curious look. “How are you going to get Moshinas on your side?”

    “I could sleep with him.” She smiled at Fenrir’s annoyed expression.


    “No.” Fenrir reiterated the word, it sounded like a command.

    “I can sleep with whomever I like Fenrir, I’m not exclusively yours.” Nazara stated, and felt his arm tighten around her. “… They’ll be here soon.”

    “Mmhmm…” Fenrir leaned back, lessening his hold. He watched her sit up, though she seemed a bit reluctant. “Don’t want to get up?”

    “You’re warm.” She noted with little thought. “I like warmth.”

    “So… you liked it when I lit you on fire last night?” He questioned with a cheeky grin, and continued to watch the leader as she got dressed.

    She smiled at him playfully. “A bit.”

    He snorted. “You know if that priest-fuck didn’t know we were having sex before, he knows now.”

    “Yeah…” She winced a bit, her muscles protesting to her stretch. “I’m sure he’ll throw holy water on me or something.”

    “After what you were saying, I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t try an exorcism.”

    She chuckled, and gave herself a quick look over. Simple jeans with some tears, and a black babydoll tee. She brushed and fixed her hair, making it look perfect – just how she liked it. She glanced back at him as she sat down and put on her shoes. “Get dressed.”

    “Do I have to?”

    “Well, if you don’t want to help kill one of the others that’s fine… I’m sure Zedona will-“

    “I’ll get dressed.” He hopped out of bed quickly. “A sanctioned killing from our fearless leader? How could I miss that?”

    “Oh, and you may need to convince Moshinas to help us.” She reached for the door.

    “Convince him?”

    “Yes…” She smiled back at Fenrir, though her smile had a distinct vile tone about it. “He’s coming to get his sword, and if he doesn’t want to help… well, I’m sure you can make him see the light, as it were.”

    - + Tag: Every dark scion. Get to the church <3 + -

  30. #30
    RPG Dyke's Bitch Moderator
    ChobiChibi's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2003
    In your base, killing your dudes.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    “Karis, you’re not even warmed up yet! Hurry up!”

    “No, that’s not how it goes. Do it again, Karis.”

    “You’re not in time, Karis! Speed up!”

    She came to a stop a few feet away from her skating partner, who stood arms folded across his chest, frowning. “I swear to god if you don’t stop barking orders at me, Derrick, I’ll-”

    “I’m sorry, this competition means so much to me...” He lowered his arms, slowly skating towards his partner.

    “And it does to me, too.”

    “Just doesn’t seem like it, that’s all.” Derrick put his sturdy hands on her shoulders, trying to look her in the eye as she kept glancing away. “It doesn’t help right now if you get... Involved... With another guy...”

    “There’s nothing between Karik and I.”

    “Certainly didn’t look like it.”

    “He’s an old friend...”

    “If that’s what you want to call it.”

    Karis shrugged his hands off her, nimbly skating backwards to create much needed distance between them both. “He’d heard you’re a bit of a dick and decided to make you jealous. He knew the kiss wouldn’t be enough, so added the thigh grope for good measure.” She smiled at his scowl. “It’s funny cos it worked.” She spotted their coach at the side of the rink and skated towards him. “Just because you’ve not had any interest in you since I left you!” She called over her shoulder, knowing how infuriated she’d now made him.

    Karis loved their coach. Not only did he have a brilliant mind for choreography, he was totally on her side. Joshua treated her like a kid sister, and despised Derrick for trying to control her. Problem was, he was also a brilliant skater, it would be difficult to get rid of him.

    Training went smoothly with Joshua’s arrival. Well, at least she enjoyed it more. As she glided around the rink, she couldn’t help but get random threads of conversation pop up in her head. Although the Scions apparently didn’t leave much of an impression on her before, they certainly were now.

    Moshinas grabbed her the most, though. “So which of you is in charge this time?”

    That made it seem like someone else other than Nazara was. And the way he said it...

    Nah, there was no way it was her... Was there?

    Despite her absent mind, the pair of them progressed well that evening. She called Nazara afterwards, fearing Derrick’s wrath, but as she couldn’t get through, she reluctantly phoned Fenrir instead to come and pick her up.
    He looked just as thrilled to be driving the Mini as the he did earlier. She waved to Joshua as she got in the passenger side, throwing her bag onto the back seat.

    “You looked better in the dress.”

    “Charming, as usual.”

    He was right though. She’d pulled on some trackies and a hoodie over the top as she’d left. Although she wasn’t cold, everyone else expected her to be.

    “By the way, Fenrir.” She waited until they pulled away before calling him by his real name. “I’m not sure if I should be thanking you, or slapping you for earlier...”

    Eirwyn glanced over, watching as the smirk from earlier re-emerged on his face. “You’re welcome.”

    Yeah... Of course he’d assume I was thanking him... She stopped her own trail of thought. “... I think I can still feel a slight burning sensation on my thigh...”

    Fenrir didn’t get the chance to make a witty comment, because her phone jumped to life in her pocket. She tried her best to keep a neutral expression as the screen read “unknown number”, because the excited butterflies in her stomach were either rightfully there, or she was about to suffer a bitter disappointment.

    “Hello? Is that Ka-”

    Yay! Tellus! “Hey, can you give me a call back later? In about half an hour? I’m just on my way home.”

    “Oh, uh...” He paused for a moment. “Oh, yes, okay. Talk to you later.”


    “Who was that?”

    Ah yes. Ever the nosy one. “Just a friend.” She replied simply. For some reason, she felt a great need to protect his identity.

    “You have friends?”

    “Fuck off, Fenrir.” She hit his arm. “I didn’t kill all my friends.”

    “They weren’t my friends.” He frowned.

    They sat in silence for most of the way, it was only when that little question of Moshinas’s popped up for the billionth time that she could take it anymore and just had to ask.

    “Fenrir...” Eirwyn began, twirling the chord from her hoodie between her fingers. “It was me that lead the last rebellion, wasn’t it?”

    It was then she witnessed Fenrir’s poker face. Followed by more silence. By the looks of things, he was quietly, discreetly, trying to figure out what he should say to the poor little amnesia girl. Of course, there was no pity from him; she could already tell that at no point had they ever been close friends. It didn’t really occur to her that he might be considering what he was allowed to say...

    “I take your silence as a yes.” She laughed awkwardly. “I still don’t remember, don’t worry, it’s just something Moshinas said.”

    For a moment, he looked curious. “What did he say?”

    “So which of you is in charge this time? With a big emphasis on the this.”


    “A little, I suppose. But he didn’t know that I couldn’t remember. And your lack of response only makes my gut feeling stronger.” She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her forehead in the palms of her hands and pushing her hair out of her face. “I fucked up, didn’t I? Don’t answer that.”

    As they pulled up outside her house, she wasn’t sure who was more relieved out of the pair of them. She got out without a word, retrieved her bag and was walking down the path to her house before Fenrir called after her. “You got your phone this time?”

    She fished it out her pocket, waving it at him. “See you tomorrow.”

    As she fished out her keys, she felt her legs complain. She’d forgotten to stretch before she left the ice rink and she knew she’d pay for it in the morning if she didn’t do it now... Ah well, she had time to kill before Tellus called again.

    TAG TELLUS My plan hereafter is to have the lovely phonecall with Tellus, perhaps run into him on the bus in the morning, dump her stuff at the Cathedral then bugger off to fetch Zedona. Excellent. Toodles!

    X-rated since April 2012!

    Weasel Overlord says:

    Crystal Tears: Shut. Up.
    Or i will hog tie you
    and ram you
    with my train

  31. #31
    Written Into A Corner... Cool Trainer
    Cool Trainer
    mattbcl's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2011

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    /\/\/ Moshinas the Thunder /\/\/

    Moshinas stepped back into the house and sat down on the nearest chair. The mugs of hot chocolate were still sitting out on the counter, but he didn't feel like dealing with them just now. In fact, he felt like dealing with very little just now. But something in him said that if he continued along this path - merely sitting around, waiting for things to occur and only reacting to them instead of acting upon his own volition - then nothing would ever be accomplished.

    He mumbled a string of curses to himself, then went into his bedroom and opened up his drawers, from which he began assembling his work uniform. He had an overnight shift tonight and he wasn't going to raise suspicion, nor was he going to allow himself to become poor and homeless, by blowing off his job. Not right now, anyway.

    I'm going to figure this out, he vowed to himself. They're not going to get the best of me this time around. They don't have anyone they can hang over my head now. All they have is my sword, like that was ever the real weapon I used... it shouldn't matter that much.

    ...But perhaps I should at least go and find out what they have to say. What's the worst that could happen?


    "Hey, Merrimack, get a move on, kid!"

    Moshinas had to restrain a scowl from forming on the face he wore; he looked up at the manager heckling him, a stocky, mustachioed man in his late 40's whose hairstyle was thirty years out of date. Said manager was leaning against a forklift with a cup of coffee in one hand and a clipboard in the other, and Moshinas wasn't entirely certain the man even had any important documents on that clipboard... he would have almost put money on the likelihood that they were printout comic strips from the Internet.

    He shoved his long line of pushcarts back into the receiving rack and let out a sigh, forcing himself to say, "Sorry, Greg."

    "Bet you are," the manager muttered - it would have normally been quiet enough that Dylan Merrimack would never have heard it, but Moshinas the Thunder's hearing included the snapping of electric impulses in his nervous system, and that gave him information he would have otherwise missed.

    Moshinas felt himself flare up at the jab that hadn't been meant to be heard. He straightened up and looked at Greg more fully. "What do you need me to do next?"

    Greg rolled his eyes, as though the answer to that question was the most obvious thing in the world. "Boy, you're just not on the ball tonight, are you, Merrimack?" He gestured with his coffee hand - the cup seemed permanently glued to his fingers. "Go stock up plumbing, we're running low on elbow joints, sink aerators, God knows what else."

    "Okay." The word felt alien in his mouth, but he managed to let it out anyway, and started to head back towards storage. His fingers were threatening to curl into fists - on today, of all days, the man was deciding he wanted to push a few buttons to get him to work harder? At this menial, dead-end job where he was expected to just stand aside and let himself be picked on whenever someone else wanted to feel good about themselves?

    He had barely taken ten steps when he heard another under-the-breath mumble.

    "Sheesh, the idiots we're deciding to keep around here..."

    He came to a stop. His eyes closed, and his fists balled.

    Strike three.

    When his eyes opened again, they were flickering with energy. Raw power that could hardly be restrained... too much power for a mortal. His fingers uncurled, and he began walking again, a static charge snapping at his every step. But instead of moving towards storage, he took a right turn and stalked down four aisles. Another right turn and he was moving along one of two carpentry aisles, in the middle of which he was just able to make out the forklift that Greg had yet to stop leaning against.

    Moshinas knew that the cameras in the area might have made an attack upon his manager quite obvious, were it your standard assault and battery. But a grin threatened to split his face - this would be assault with a battery.

    He traced his finger across one of the steel support rails in front of him, the ones used to support the shelving, and he felt the power begin leaking out of him and into the structure. His gesture was subtle, simple, as though he were simply searching for a piece of equipment... there would be no indication at all of just what, precisely, he was doing. He let his awareness flow into the energy itself, which flooded more and more into the steel, creeping and crawling around the entire surface of the shelf, until it was hovering just next to the forklift and the moronic, power-hungry man standing against it.

    It would have to happen all at once, faster than the blink of an eye.

    He closed his eyes, and pushed in everything he was prepared to release.

    A loud CRACK echoed through the warehouse, as if the gods themselves were snapping their fingers within the giant metal building. Several screams punctuated the noise, as did the faint thump of a body to the concrete floor, all sounds that were momentary music to his ears. He backed away from the shelving and made for the scene of the anomaly, just as he knew everybody else would - nobody would notice him if he was doing exactly what he was expected to do, but they would notice if he wasn't.

    It had worked even better than he could have hoped for. Not only had the bolt jumped through the forklift and into its intended target, there had been enough residual energy left over to crawl its way around the fuel tank and snap against a nearby corner. A spark had flared, and now the lift itself was beginning to smolder from the inside. The tank was on fire, but the only reason it would not explode was because someone had carelessly left the cap off the tank.

    He did his best to keep the smirk off his face, and instead he ran over to Greg's limp body on the ground. The man was unconscious, that much was clear... and with one hand on his hairy wrist, Moshinas could sense the chaos of electrical activity within his body, trying to correct for the phenomenon. Most especially, the bottom of Greg's heart was quivering with uncontrollable impulses.

    He remembered something hazy from one of Dylan's college classes: "Ventricular fibrillation. It's always a medical emergency because effective pumping of the blood comes to a halt... this is a type of cardiac arrest, or more commonly known as a heart attack, and an individual suffering it won't survive without CPR and immediate defibrillation."

    His eyes scanned the craggy, mustachioed face of Dylan's boss - and his shoulders lifted in the slightest of shrugs. Well, what do I care?

    He pulled Greg away from the burning forklift, dragged him across the floor while other people screamed and shouted about the machinery and how close the two of them were to it. He dragged the manager around the corner and away from any possible debris arc that would have happened, were the lift actually in danger of exploding - but he knew it wouldn't, not as long as there was an outlet for the burning fuel. With no pressure, it was more flammable than explosive.

    He let the glow in his eyes burn for a moment longer while he looked at Greg. This was the same guy who bitched others out for not doing work he himself ought to have been doing. Now he was critically injured on the job. Maybe wouldn't even survive the night.

    One way or another, this guy wouldn't be coming back to work here.

    "Well, that's break," Moshinas muttered.


    The authorities didn't let him go until late the next morning. He could feel his body tiring, and he couldn't blame it; he'd been awake since very early yesterday morning with his frantic swordplay, and the subsequent encounter with Eirwyn and Nazara.

    In the meantime, the "freak accident" had given him a bonus in the form of a week off with pay - trauma fee, he supposed, something they could use to coerce him to say everything had looked perfectly safe to him and Greg was the last one to touch the forklift. Whatever. It didn't matter. At least he wouldn't have to look at Greg's ugly mug anymore.

    A cop drove him home - though work was within walking distance, the police station was across town - and so it wasn't until he got in the door and turned on the radio that he had any idea whether Greg had even survived the night.

    "-this morning left at least one man dead. At 2:23 am, a forklift burst into flames during operation by an employee. Greg Cantril, 48, of St. Tesara, fell away from the burning machine, and though authorities will not confirm whether he had sustained injuries from the accident, Cantril later passed away at Memorial Hospital."

    Moshinas looked at his right hand, the hand that had touched the steel rail. All the power of a god, coursing through every cell of this miserable body, and I've been wasting time worrying about what other people think.

    Not anymore.

    He found himself a fresh change of clothing - a black T-shirt with a white silk dragon shirt over it, blue jeans - and then left the duplex more quickly than he'd entered it, not bothering to even turn off the radio while it droned on about traffic reports and the weather. He quickly glanced at Mrs. Grady's door, worried for a moment that she would flag him down for some menial task... but her inner door was still closed, so she had yet to get out of bed.

    Good news there, at least. He didn't feel like zapping anyone else just now.

    He knew the cathedral Eirwyn had spoken of. In St. Tesara, there was only one building that fit the word... a magnificent Catholic church near the center of town, amidst all the white collar industry and the dazzling lights of never-night. He had heard it was closed for renovations, not so much unlike his own home, but if the others had found their way into it anyway, he could, too.

    The walk was head-clearing. He kept his hands stuffed in his pockets, his wrists chafing slightly against the belt he wore. He typically wore pants whose waist size didn't require him to wear a belt, but carrying his sword home on his shoulder might have been a little conspicuous.

    Not that carrying it on your hip will be any less so, you idiot, he reprimanded himself. Would have been better to take a bicycle, but that was water under the bridge now - he was approaching the doors.

    Dylan was not a Catholic. Really, he had never belonged to any particular religion, never mind factions within those religions - agnostic was a word that suited him well. Being in or near a church made him feel uncomfortable, and it was no help that Moshinas had a much greater glimmer of the truth than Dylan did. But here he was, anyway, in the home of one god while he hid from many others.

    He was surprised to find the door open, despite the sign declaring the renovations, but he supposed it made sense. If said renovations were only taking place in the sanctuary, that didn't mean the whole bloody thing was down for the count. The office and daycare would still be operating, still working on bringing in revenue... not to mention the apparent labyrinthine network of hallways and rooms underground.

    And, of course, the confessional.

    His entry into the sanctuary did not go unnoticed, however, and a waspy-looking man wearing black with a white tie-tap approached him, fingers laced together a little too tightly to be comfortable. "Good morning, son. May I help you?"

    The best lie is always sheathed in truth. Makes it easier to stomach. He dipped his head politely. "Good morning, Father. I don't know if you can, but..." He jutted his chin at the huge cross that stood above the central altar. "He might be able to."

    The pastor blinked; apparently the answer had not been expected. "Oh? And what troubles do you bring here?"

    Other than myself? "I was working at the Home Depot last night when the accident happened. Maybe you heard about it on-"

    "On the news, yes." The father bobbed his head. "Terrible. I'm not sure I understand how the man died, though... they didn't confirm any injuries."

    He shrugged. "He wasn't in the greatest of health to begin with, but... it's a shock, is all." He looked away; maybe the father thought he was trying to hide tears, though it was in fact a snicker at his own lame joke. Curiously enough, the sound of him strangling the noise in his throat was a truncated croak that could have applied quite well to either reaction.

    He felt the father's hand on his shoulder, and he forced himself to straighten up and look the priest in the eye. "Anyway, I came here to just... sit for a while, if I could."

    The pastor bobbed his head again. "That's fine. Just please avoid the right side of the sanctuary, we've only just put in new floorboards and a crew is to wax them this week." He gestured to the pews on the left side, near the altar. "Feel free. And come to my office if you need anything."

    "Yes, Father. Thank you."

    Moshinas turned away from the minister and moved to the pew indicated, as close as he dared get to the holy symbol of a religion he didn't fully recognize. He laced his fingers between his knees and bowed his head. To anyone else, it would look like a solemn prayer.

    But for him, it was his means of concentrating on nearby Scions.

    All right... I'm here. So what do you want?

  32. #32
    Rl #32:Enjoy The Little Things Master Trainer
    Master Trainer
    Shadow Wolf's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2006
    Puerto Rico

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Tellus Shields/Chronos

    For someone like Tellus –whom everyday was just the same- the events of this day have definitely shaken him off balance. He was adapted to his everyday routine and on the weekends, he would just do things at his small house and buy food. Tellus saw each day as a routine. The only difference would happen when the memories of the past haunted him to the point where he would take a stroll around the city. This day, however, he took a stroll not to forget, but to remember.

    “28.54 sir. Sir…. HEY!” The shop clerk waved his hand in Tellus’s eyes.

    “Oh, sorry. How much was it again?” Tellus replied.

    “28.54 sir.”

    He took his wallet out to hand over the cash. He was buying some stuff he would need for both work and for house duties. His body was on auto motion doing his everyday life, but when his mind took over, he would just space out. He took his bags and began his trip back home. As his body drifted between the streets he has walked for a few years, his mind would transform the path into a memory lane, remembering all the different lives he had lived. All of those lives have been dedicated to analyze and watch the humans from the sidelines. At first, he would live lives dedicated to profession where he would use his skills to protect humans, such as the Knights Templar. But as he found out the intentions of their leaders, saw the corruption of each well intentioned organization, and noticed that, no matter how much he prevented it, he would always stand above his colleagues (which would then lead to attracting both friends and enemies) he would later choose more normal lives, like farmer, blacksmith, shoeshiner, and on modern days, janitor.

    All of those lives had something in common: his love life would never progress, because he decided to be like that. He would have a few girls take a romantic interest in him, but he would reject them. His love was for no one else, but for her.

    …but every streak has to end someday.

    Just, what exactly is going on? The question would pop in Chronos’s mind over and over again as he arrived in his house, watching pictures and scenes take shape and life on he entered. Everything was on its proper place: the bed, the laptop on the table, the small chair he’s sitting… but his mind was recreating scenes, questions, events and in the very end of each one, a beautiful girl would appear which would erase all the other scenes.

    Darn it He would curse this day from now on. His normal life has been turned upside down. He knew that from this day on, no other day would be “normal”. Sigh, guess there’s no use in denying the facts. He would just put his mind on pause as he place what he bought in its proper place. He then went to take a bath, and as he took everything out of his pockets, one particular item caught his attention: a small paper with a few numbers in it. His mind was at work again. Here it goes again… were his words as he placed the paper in his wallet, took off his clothes and proceeded to take a bath.


    It was a scene Chronos would never forget. There were no worries, no battles, just… freedom, even if it only lasted a few hours. The day was cool, typical of a spring day just after winter ends. The only thing he would hear was the melody of the water as it travelled the river, the light whisper of paper as she moved each page, and the light sound of her heart beating. As the tree's shadow embraced her light blue skin, Eirwyn would rest in Chronos’ chest as her eyes traveled through each word of the book. Chronos would just lay there, his arms covering Eirwyn’s belly and his eyes gazing at the scene. He was determined to appreciate every single detail of this moment and of course, to give every second of this day to her.

    The silence subsided when her voice whispered the following words…

    "But in the end everyone ends up alone… Losing her, the only one who's ever known who I am, who I'm not and who I wanna be… No way to know how long she will be next to me…"

    "Something seems to be worrying you a bit" He noticed the tone of her voice as she whispered those words. There was a slight feeling of something.... fear or sadness.

    "'s nothing" Eirwyn replies.

    "You've been quiet while reading the book. But when you whispered this, I couldn't help but notice your feelings through your voice. It's ok if you don't want to share it, though"

    "Well..." She tried to speak about something, but before she could say anything, her hand let go of the book and her eyes began to close softly as she gave in to tears.

    Chronos did not say a word. He just turned her around and embraced her with a warm hug as her tears fell. He could ask about what was wrong, but sometimes, it is best to just let our feelings out in silence and demonstrate with actions rather than words the support for our loved ones.

    "It's OK. No matter what happens, my love will always be for you."

    "This would be so much easier if I was one of you." she replied.

    He wondered what she could possibly mean with those words. Could she be talking about being a Scion of Light? Maybe so, and considering the rejection of humans towards the Dark Scions, he thought that she said this because she feared to be alone.

    He held her face... his finger wiping out a tear out of her face... and told her: "As long as I live, you will never be alone. No matter the events... neither the distance... nor the obstacles, we live under the same sky, and even if we lived in the opposite sides of the world..." He took her hand and placed her on her chest, where the heart is. "These will prevail and we will meet again.”

    Her tears gave in again, and he proceeded to embrace her again. Only this time, he could feel her body reflect a different feeling: happiness. He wanted to ask the true meaning of the words, but since she was happy, he felt like there was no need to ask about it.

    I can watch the world pass by… my love will still belong to you


    He woke up with a tear in his eye. His thoughts quickly recalled a familiar song as he wiped his tear and got up from bed: Broken. He had taken a nap, but this time, there was no nightmare.

    As usual, he went to check the hour on his cell phone He didn’t notice that he left a name with a number written on the phone before going to sleep. The phone went in energy saving mode, so the screen was dark. He pressed the “send button to view the time when he suddenly noticed the message on the screen…

    Calling Karis… time: 0:01”

    He planned to hang quickly, but a voice whispered through the small speaker which prevented Tellus from doing this… "Tellus!" It was Karis on the other side of the line.

    “Hello? Is that Ka-”

    “Hey, can you give me a call back later, in about half an hour? I’m just on my way home.”

    “Oh, uh...” He paused for a moment. “Oh, yes, okay. Talk to you later.”


    Tellus was a bit surprised, probably because he didn’t expect to be called by his name so quickly, at least not when he didn’t gave her his phone number.

    His stomach gave a loud growl. Oh, looks like I need something… hmm, half an hour he could finally check the time: 7:43pm. Weird… He only slept two hours this time, and he never woke up this hungry.

    Whatever… He needed to prepare something to eat, and 30 minutes were enough to do that.


    Preparing dinner took quite some time. Before Tellus could even notice, one hour had already passed between his time preparing dinner and eating. He was a bit lost in thoughts due to his last dream…

    …beats remembering a nightmare anyway He recalled the events of the previous night as he thought these words. Once he finished the dishes and stored the rest of the food. He went ahead and called Karis again. His mind was at conflict due to the promise he made, but she told him to call later, and he hated to keep people waiting.


    She picked up the phone. “Hi Tellus!”

    He was surprised yet again… "H-how did you know it was me?"

    "You're the only stranger I've given my phone number to today." Karis replied in a voice conveying truth.

    "Oh!" Well, that makes sense Tellus was in his own thoughts again. "Well, umm... I just wanted to make sure that it was your phone number" what? why would you say that Tellus? baka baka Baka

    "You think I’d give out a fake number?" she quickly demanded, but not in an angry voice.

    crap, this looks bad "what? n-no, I didn't mean that" too nervous... too nervous “It’s just... well... I didn't expect to get a phone number, and less from a girl like you” why do I get the feeling that THAT did NOT sound right

    "Oh?" She sounds amused. "A girl like me? What is a 'girl like me' like?" Her voice was now reflecting curiosity and interest, or at least, that’s what Tellus perceived.

    Tellus, you've just been cornered buddy

    "well...." Tellus felt lost for a while, and a dim silence echoes between the phones. "...a girl as pretty as you." The words just slipped off his lips. He had said it in a low tone of voice, but what he carried in his heart at the moment the words slipped gave the word a soothing and emotional meaning. He could've regret what he said a moment later, but the sound of the words already echoed through the phone. All he had left to do was to wait for a response.

    "Pretty?" It's like he could hear her smiling down the phone. "Thanks... You've possibly made my day."

    And once again... in less than 24 hours, Tellus was left speechless by a girl he recently met. "...N-No problem." Tellus voice seemed to reflect some kind of joy, just as his face was now radiating in a pinkish/reddish color. It was the first time he had a social conversation with someone on phone. Sure, he had other conversations –like the short conversations where his boss would tell him that he needed him to cover for someone else, or the short conversations he had with his fellow light scions– but he was sure that until now, no conversation has ever held such special meaning as those few words he exchanged with Karis… except those with Eirwyn, of course.

    Returning from dreamland, he was a bit surprised, and maybe embarrassed for what he was hearing on the phone.

    "Karis, um, why do you sound breathless?" He thought that was a good way to explain what he was exactly hearing.

    "I've been walking around my house for the past half an hour."

    "Umm, may I ask why?"

    "I came home from training and haven't had chance to cool down yet. Normally I walk home, but I got a lift."

    Oh, so that’s why? Tellus was a bit relieved, until…

    "... That's another strange noise."

    "I'm stretching."

    Stretching? "...and on the phone?"


    "...." It’s not what you think Tellus… it’s not what you think "W-Well, if you want to, I can call you later, so you can work on your exercises..."

    “Don’t worry. I just finished”

    "Are you done, or did you just stopped because of me? I mean, I don't want to interrupt your routine..."

    "No, really, I'm done! How was your day?"

    "Let's just say that it has been very different than the others" Considering that I’m using the phone, it certainly has been a different day

    "Yeah, I know what you mean..."

    "Really? How so?"

    "A load of old friends came back to town today, it was weird..."

    "Really!? You should be happy then..." Chronos said, thinking of his own "friendly" life

    "Aaaand I made some new ones."

    "Em.. thanks" Chronos was wondering how many times he blushed in this single day... “BTW, you mentioned ‘training’... do you practice something?”

    "Heh, yeah, I ice skate. Not just for fun, for a living."

    "....” These words caught Chronos off guard. His mind reacts quickly; and as soon as he heard the word Ice, his thought escaped the phone conversation and into his memories, where he would once again, remember the one who truly knows him.

    "Tellus?!" Her words brought him back.

    "....Huh? Oh, sorry!"

    "Yeah I know… weird occupation."

    That’s not weird"I don't think so! I believe that's pretty awesome. I mean, it requires a lot of discipline and a lot of practice. But when you see the efforts pay off.... is like you're...... a Goddess dancing on ice......" Of course, his thoughts were talking about a different girl as he expressed those words.

    ...She remained silent.

    Did I said something wrong? Oh wait, I think I did… But his thoughts were interrupted by yet another sound… but this time, it was a familiar sound.

    “That’s odd, I think I hear water”

    “Yeah, that’s my shower”

    “Umm, you’re taking a bath while talking through the phone? Isn’t that dangerous?” His voice clearly delivered a feeling of worry.

    “Don’t worry, I have it on speaker mode”

    Now that she mentions it, her voice sounds like she’s a bit away from the phone ".....emm, well, the thing is that it is not weird at all. I think it's pretty awesome that someone knows ice skating."

    "Really? Well, I guess so..." For some reason, Tellus noticed that she wasn’t too happy when she replied. "Is something wrong?"

    "No no, nothing's wrong, just never had anyone think it's awesome to ice skate"

    "Well....." Tellus wants to tell her about his appreciation for ice skating, but he is trying not to talk about Eirwyn. Because of this, he is unable to produce words.

    "What do you do? I mean, your job." Karis asked while making her voice louder that the sound of the water.

    "Oh, well... I'm a..." Should I tell her? Well, I guess that could make her lose interest in me… so in a way, that’s good

    It was a cruel thought, but Chronos promised her that he would not fall for anyone else… "A janitor"

    It was awkward for him to talk about himself when he was used to leave everything inside his head. "Sorry, is just that I usually don't talk much about it"

    "Really?! Why not? Anything's better than being a jobless bum at the end of the day.” They both laughed at the statement. If it’s a friend, I guess it’s ok…

    "Well, I guess you're right.....” Tellus then began to meditate as his words echoed through the speaker. “The thing is that many people don't understand the wonderful joys of under-appreciated jobs. They dream so much of big goals, that they sacrifice those little joys. Sorry for going in a bit of a rambling, but I really think that those small jobs and hobbies make a great difference that only the good people appreciate. So you should be proud of being and Ice Skater, because... even if not much people appreciate it, you have an awesome hobby"

    "Heh... I like that you think of it that way. I wish it was a hobby though, I'm competing soon..."

    Oh, yeah, she said she does that as a living dummy he sure enjoyed 'praising' himself.

    "R-really!? W-wow..... Then that’s another reason to smile. You're about to show everyone how wonderful is to dance on the ice." Despite his issues with himself, he sure did his best to make people feel better, and with Karis is no exception.

    "You should come watch!" He wasn’t sure if it was the question itself, or that he didn’t hear the sound of the water anymore, but if this was a fight, with this phrase, it was like she punched him in one of the ears, causing him to lose balance.

    "Ah..... Are you sure? I mean... we've talk just one day..." He was left vulnerable

    "Yeah but... Do you ever get the feeling that you've known someone forever when you really haven't?"

    If the previous statement left him unbalanced, this one was the finishing blow. He was left wondering how another woman could know his weaknesses. "Ah...... wow.... how come you keep guessing what I'm thinking?"

    "Then maybe we're meant to be friends."

    Friends… she wanted me to make friends, but this… she just reminds me of you Eirwyn

    "Hehe... then I guess that means I have to be there." His thoughts didn’t make too much sense, but he didn’t care either. This was the first time in centuries that someone could find a way to both his feelings and thoughts. And just like a master controls its puppet, his strings were at the mercy of this unknown yet familiar girl.

    "Good" Karis was sleepy, or at least, the yawn she made after saying this made Tellus think that.

    "By the way, when's the competition?"

    "In a few weeks time, qualifying for the Nationals."

    "OK then. It's settled. Well, I think you should sleep. Wouldn't want to snooze on someone else's shoulder..." He laughed for a bit, this being followed by her laugh.

    "I don't normally do that! Promise!"

    "Hmm? No need to promise me. I said it because I wouldn't want your sleep to be ruined because of me." Funny considering that your own sleeping habits aren’t that good dummy

    "It won't be. In fact, I think it's good that you're the first and last person I've spoken to today."

    "Hehehe.... I guess I can say the same here." Oh wait, here comes my red face again "Well, take care Karis. I hope you get a good night sleep".

    "Thanks, you too. Maybe I'll bump into you again soon!"

    "Well, who knows? But if my days were like this day..." He went into dreamland and forgot that Karis was still on the phone. "Ah don't mind me... good night."

    *chuckles* "Night, Tellus." She heard it… He muttered as he finally hung up the phone.

    Tellus was undoubtedly shaken by Karis. He could not comprehend the chances of someone being so similar to the one he loves. His gaze was fixed on the roof of his house while he lay on his bed. In fact, he was shaken by this whole day. His mind was tired from the struggle between his promise to never fall for someone else and the “confusion” Karis was creating in his mind. It was early, but his eyes closed and his mouth drew a faint smile as his body went into sleep.

    And there goes the first day.

    Optimist award 2012.

    “There is nothing better than a friend, unless it is a friend with chocolate.” (Linda Grayson)

    Thank you everyone... for being so kind and for bringing out the best in me! You are definitely awesome! ^_^

  33. #33
    Hardcore Casual Gamer Cool Trainer
    Cool Trainer
    DivineAll's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2009
    Seattle, WA

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    Since Asilynne is going to be afk for a week, I might as well post this now:



    Sitting in the small office of his boss, Drake/Graxdon was talking on the phone to one Aeryn McFallon. Apparently, she had called because of a last minute inconvenience that she did not want to talk about that Drake assumed was personal. "...I understand. ...Really, I do. It's our general policy to reschedule your appointment if you have any last-minute inconveniences at the moment in your life. ...Next week or so? That works for me. See you then? ...Okay, talk to you then Miss."

    He hung up the phone and sighed. Drake/Graxdon was looking forward to seeing her, because of all the candidates he looked over, she was the best one suited for the job, according to her résumé. Still, after talking to her, even from the phone, he could feel an energy towards her that was similar yet opposite to the wheelchaired individual he passed by earlier on his way to work.

    Drake/Graxdon assumed she might be a Scion judging by her energy, but couldn't differentiate between Light and Dark for many various reasons. Apparently, in order for any Light Scion to fully recognize another Scion and for their power to reach it's fullest, Drake/Graxdon theorized, a Scion, either Light or Dark, had to contact them by their true name, and not the other way around.

    Drake/Graxdon sighed yet again because of this predicament and decided to just deliver the documents he was assigned to get by Victoria while she was busy making coffee and various pastries from the kitchen. This was yet another reason why they needed a third employee. The two alternated each day between "kitchen duty" and "business affairs", and today was Drake's/Graxdon's day for "business affairs". They desperately needed a third person who could fill in for both, in case of too many orders.

    Luckily, after delivering the documents to Victoria, Drake/Graxdon looked out in the dining area to see that there was only one customer in the café. Usually, they were quite busy once they opened, but today must've been slow.

    Drake approached the corner where the customer sat and got that same feeling from earlier growing stronger as he got closer before he saw the wheelchaired individual he passed on the street just earlier.

    Drake/Graxdon spoke. "Hey, you're that guy I passed by earlier this morning aren't you? Come to think of it, didn't you come here a couple times before in the past... what's your name, again... Xavier, isn't it?"

    The sickly young man stared up at Drake/Graxdon with a face that conveyed many emotions, mainly confusion, anger, curiosity, hatred, and wonderment. "You... recognize... me?" Xavier spoke slowly, putting extra emphasis on the last word.

    "I'm supposed to, aren't I?" Drake/Graxdon responded. "Or have you forgotten that it's the policy of Bordelines for the employees, or employee, in my case, to interact with the customers as much as possible to create a very friendly and casual atmosphere? I'm pretty sure you aren't that sick in the head, Mr. Finch, that you've somehow developed amnesia."

    Xavier stared up at the Light Scion of Water with more anger and hatred than before. "Are you seriously... mocking my condition?" Drake/Graxdon put his hands up in defense immediately. "It was a joke, Xavier. A bad joke, I admit, but it was supposed to be funny." Xavier grunted, "It wasn't funny in the slightest. Still, at least you admit your faults."

    Drake/Graxdon let out a light laugh. "Of course, I do, after all nobody is perfect. So, what can I get you?" Xavier thought a brief moment. " Small Coffee. Black. ...And maybe some of those cinnamon sticks." Drake/Graxdon nodded. "For here or for to go?" Xavier considered for a moment. "You know... I much as don't want to... I think I'll take them to go."

    "As much as you don't want to? I won't question that part and be right back then." Drake/Graxdon said to him. After delivering the order to Victoria in the kitchen, he came back in a few short minutes towards the sickly young man carrying a small carry-out beverage container and a paper bag.

    After paying Drake/Graxdon, with a small tip, Xavier asked him just before he was about to leave, "Why am I being so... casual towards you? How are you even doing this to me? You don't normally make a Dark Scion not conflict you this easily, Graxdon."

    A force of energy then surged through the Light Scion of Water. For the first time in any of his incarnations, he had regained his full power without going into battle first. Recognizing the young sickly man for who he truly was now, he said, "What can I say, Zedona? Perhaps it's this place that has power? After all, the motto of Borderlines is 'The walls come down, in one way or another'. I've seen many business rivals come to this place arguing over various deals and promises only for them to exit becoming partners. Former criminals and police come here with no grudges against the another the moment they recognize each other in this place. I've even seen romances blossom here that writers for television, movies, and books could never dream of thinking given the ludicrous situation the couple fell in love."

    "So... I merely destroy this place now... and it won't have this temporary truce over us any longer, I suppose?" the Dark Scion of Poison asked.

    "Supposedly. If you can destroy it that is." Drake/Graxdon responded. "I don't know how and I don't know why, but no one can come into any kind of unfriendly conflict if even their toe is on the patio of this place. What I'm trying to say, Zedona, is if we were Highlanders, then this somehow would be our holy ground."

    Xavier/Zedona scoffed, "I see... modern culture has affected you, as well?"

    "Same goes for you, I suppose?" the Light Scion of Water asked. "I suppose so." the Dark Scion of Poison responded. "However, know this Graxdon: next time we meet, it will be no where near here and I will unleash every single amount of my hatred and anger upon you and any of the Light Scions that follow. Clear?"

    "Crystal." Drake/Graxdon respoded. Xavier/Zedona exited Borderlines and paused to intensely look at the café in full view before he wheeled off to meet with the other Dark Scions.
    Last edited by DivineAll; 16th January 2012 at 07:09 PM.

  34. #34
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
    Advanced Trainer
    Crystal Tears's Avatar
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    Aug 2003
    I'll give you a hint. It's cold.

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    - + Nazara + -

    “Liar liar…”

    Nazara watched from her hiding place as Moshinas stood up, eyes narrowing as he scanned the cathedral interior for the one speaking. He found no one in his sight, and instead began to walk, eyes seemingly scanning every nook and cranny for the light-bearer. Nazara smirked, happy now that the priest had left back to his room. Far from the main chamber, he wouldn’t be able to hear a thing that was going on.

    “Nazara…” Moshinas spat, obviously unhappy. “Where are you hiding this time?”

    In a flash, the woman appeared mere feet from him. A smile on her face, taunting him. “It seems your inner nature won out, you killed that man, didn’t you?”

    Moshinas snorted, but his eyes flicked to the floor in reflection.

    “For a man playing indifference, it seems your temper gets the better of you.”

    “You would know, wouldn’t you?”

    She didn’t let that phase her. “At least I’m not lying to myself… are you here for your sword?”

    His glare returned to her. “Yes.”

    Nazara took a step closer. “You’re not the tad bit curious of what I’m going to say?”

    “I know what you’re going to say.” He countered, straightening up a bit. “You want revenge of the light scions, you want another war.”

    Another step closer, her smile turned into a challenging smirk. “I’ll make you deal, then Moshinas. How’s that?”

    He eyed her suspiciously. “A deal?”

    She nodded. “If you can land a single physical hit on me, I won’t bother you anymore. If you fail however, you have to stick around… and listen to what I really have to say.”

    “How long do I have?”

    She shrugged. “Two minutes.”

    Moshinas charged, and perhaps it was a little predictable, but many fights started that way. Nazara smiled, and just before his fist connected with her she vanished, reappearing directly behind him and kicking him hard in the back. Her opponent stumbled forward; turned to face her she could already see the electricity beginning to course through them. She waved, and he came at her again, growing more and more frustrated as time passed. Admittedly, there were a good couple of strikes that came damn near close to hitting her, and had they of hit they would’ve done some damage.

    Breaking the intense melee; she teleported two meters away.

    “Come now Moshinas, you really can’t hit me even once?”

    The air itself began to react to his mounting frustration, static danced around the electric scion and Nazara narrowed her eyes. There was less than twenty seconds left, time to enact her plan. She just watched as the man began to charge. Fist crackling with electrical energy, a part of Nazara wanted to move, to dodge the incoming blow.

    But there was no need.

    A blur body-checked Moshinas to the left; sending him flying off course. Nazara watched, her smirk changing to a confident smile as she began to step towards the two men now locked in combat. Fenrir took each and every blow like they were nothing, even going so far as to say the electric punches tickled. When Fenrir more or less had Moshinas pinned, the light scion looked at her watch.

    “Times up.” Nazara’s cool gaze met Moshinas’s. “You lose.”

    “You cheated-“

    “No, the deal was you had to land a physical hit on me. I never said anything about help… but see Moshinas,” she touched his cheek gently. “You don’t have anyone to help you; you chose a solitary existence…”

    He had nothing to say on the matter.

    Her smile turned kind. “I’m not doing this to embarrass or hurt you, please understand that… but a deals a deal, you have to stick around and listen.” She stood up, and looked at Fenrir. “Let him go.”

    Fenrir released the still struggling scion, which shot a glare back at the firebug.

    “Where’s my sword?”

    “Eirwyn has it.” Nazara replied. “She should arrive shortly.”


    She turned to see Zedona rolling towards them, a worried look on his face. Nazara didn’t particularly like that expression that usually implied something had gone wrong.

    “What’s wrong?” She questioned.

    “We have a problem.”

    Fenrir growled. “What did you do?”

    She scowled at Fenrir. “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” she smiled back at Zedona. “What happened?”

    - + Tag: Ben, Matt, Becki, Sam + -

  35. #35
    Written Into A Corner... Cool Trainer
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    mattbcl's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2011

    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)

    NOTE: This is a more detailed description of the fight scene originally conceived by CT, I'm just offering Moshinas' perspective on it and providing specific moves and general badassery.


    /\/\/ Moshinas the Thunder /\/\/

    It was the shrug that did it.

    Nazara had always been self-confident. In Moshinas' estimation, the phrase didn't really do her justice... he would have described it "borderline narcissism", and perhaps not quite so borderline, at that. Twice before, she had participated in wars that had shaken the heavens themselves - and for the first one, she had led the insurgency herself. Maybe she thought she was taking vengeance on the Light Scions on the behalf of her opposite-spectrum brethren, or maybe she was simply satisfying her personal demons (he was inclined to think the latter was more true than the former), but either way, that participation had heralded the end of their existence both times... and they had been thrown into the cycle of Humanity ever since.

    He wasn't sure how the gods could have conceived of being so cruel to their creations.

    But he wasn't sure what to do about it, either - and he didn't think that taking it to the Light Scions for the third time in a row was the wisest way to go. Yet he felt certain that was what she was going to suggest. He wanted no part of it. He didn't want to waste his time, and he didn't want her to waste her breath on trying to convince him.

    There's nothing she has to say to me that I want to hear.

    His fingers curled into fists at that shrug. The smug look on her face that said, Try your best, you're going to fail.

    "Two minutes."

    Dylan Merrimack might have had compunctions against hitting women, but Moshinas the Thunder had no such reservations - this was no mere woman, and a punch wasn't even going to faze her. He charged forward two steps, fist sailing straight at her nose. But though Dylan was an expert swordsman, he wasn't so much a brawler, and he was a bit slow on the uptake. Nazara vanished in a burst of light that blinded him for all of an instant.

    That instant was too much time - he felt a solid kick to the small of his back that threatened to dislocate his verbetra. He let out a surprised grunt and staggered, only barely catching himself on the edge of a pew in lieu of falling on his face. He grit his teeth and pushed himself up, spun around in time to see her wave her fingers at him... and there was that damned smug look again.

    He swung, this time with a roundhouse that should have connected with her temple. But she had predicted that reaction and her head was already down under the inelegant strike. He saw an advantage in her being bent down, though, and he brought a foot up, toes aimed at the pit of her now exposed stomach; she flipped to her left and came down on all fours, then pinwheeled backward, narrowly avoiding a hard stomp that nearly cracked a floorboard.

    She pushed herself back up to her feet and brought up one arm to block another punch, then spun to her right to avoid a second kick that could have cracked a couple of ribs. Her stance brought her so close to him that their noses were almost touching; he could see the light from the energy in his own eyes dancing across her face. But she was still smirking, and he could tell that she was about to deliver an attack of her own - he caught her elbow only an inch away from his throat.

    Sure of victory now, his other hand, wreathed in static, swung around to strike at her stomach. But she spun back again, once more sidestepping his blow, and wrenched her arm from his awkward grasp - then she dropped almost on her back when he spun with a vicious kick that would have made her jab to his back look like a pinprick.

    Another burst of light and she was gone from the floor in front of him; she reappeared a short distance away, on her feet and hands on her hips, an admonishing look on her face.

    "Come, now, Moshinas, you really can't hit me even once?"

    His anger flared; as it did, so did bursts of static all around him. Either Nazara was more agile than he remembered, or this body did not have reflexes that befit the elemental creature inhabiting it. That would have to be rectified soon, but in the meantime, he knew his time was running out.

    He began a series of swings designed to distract her, make her duck and weave in strange directions. She stooped beneath a roundhouse punch, then flipped over a kick to her legs; then she had to twist awkwardly and she nearly lost her balance when he made the same attack upon her landing. He brought both fists back in an attempt to box her ears. Predictably, she ducked under that blow, too, rather than try to block the strike, and that was when he lashed out again - this time his foot wasn't going to miss.

    But she caught his leg in both arms and spun about, trying to throw him off to the side. He had barely enough time to leap into the air with his other foot... then he used his momentum to swing around, his opposite toes aimed at her cheek. She released his leg and ducked so low that she had to catch herself from hitting the ground; now she lay virtually prone, and Moshinas was getting back to his feet far faster than she.

    Sparks snapped off his knuckles as he drove his fist down, aiming right between her shoulder blades. It would hurt, and he would be the one laughing in the end.

    But a roar erupted to their side, and Moshinas looked up precisely in time to see a young man, about the same age as Dylan, charging at him with shoulder down and eyes ablaze. Not just with passion, either, he estimated - he was certain he could see actual fire smoldering in the man's pupils.


    That was the one thing he had time to think before the newcomer barreled into him, driving him away from Nazara and allowing her to get back to her feet. Moshinas scrambled upright as well, but now Fenrir was blocking his access to Nazara, who had her arms crossed and was smirking. "Have at him, Fenrir."

    "My pleasure." Fenrir's grin was positively feral; his fists wreathed with red flame, and he charged forward again with a fist reared back, meant for Moshinas' face.

    Moshinas ducked and delivered a charged punch to Fenrir's side with his right fist, then a swinging backhand to the face with his left. Neither hit seemed to faze the Dark Scion of Fire, but they did appear to raise his ire - he drove a fist into the pit of Moshinas' stomach and then another one into his temple, downing him where he stood.

    "Coward," Fenrir taunted, toying with a lick of fire in his open palm. "You're afraid of losing to those weakling Light Scions, just like you were last time. So you're just gonna run and hide? You don't even deserve to be human."

    Moshinas got to his feet again, and for an instant, his true form was revealed beneath the shroud of his humanity, and the lights around them dimmed under the energy drain of his Scion form. But the next instant, the form of Dylan Merrimack was back, and he ran at Fenrir full-speed, driving his fist into the Fire Scion's thigh, then the other into his ribs. He rained a flurry of blows while weaving around Fenrir's retaliatory strikes, and for a few moments, he felt the old fighting instincts coming back. Neither of them had brushed up for a long time... if he was honest with himself, it felt good to stretch those muscles.

    He delivered a quick one-two-three to Fenrir's abdomen, fists fully charged with electricity - but the Fire Scion's answer was not an outcry. Instead it was a chuckle. "That tickles. Do it again."

    Moshinas' eyes blazed blue-yellow with lightning, and he let out a shout while bringing both cupped hands together in front of him - he directed an energy blast into Fenrir's chest that sent the Scion flying across the sanctuary.

    The moment he hit the ground, though, Fenrir was back up, and in that moment Moshinas knew the other Scion would not be sated until he had blood on his hands. Fenrir's hands were no longer aflame, but that was a matter easily rectified - Nazara had made sure to light a candle in the entryway, denoting her presence here, and it was from this that Fenrir drew the sustenance of his element. In the next instant, Fenrir loosed a roar of his own and threw forward a fireball that glowed blue-white; it struck Moshinas squarely in the chest and threw him against a pillar, off of which he rebounded hard before hitting the floor face-down.

    The next thing he knew, Fenrir's arm was about his neck and his full weight was atop his back. Moshinas could smell the acrid odor of his own singed clothing. "You're lucky I don't kill you here," Fenrir snarled into Moshinas' ear. "I win these fights... that's how I'm still here. What about you?"

    "Time's up!"

    Nazara was approaching, and her wrist was upraised in a show of looking at her watch. Her other hand, though, was gesturing to Fenrir in a wordless command to ease his grip on Moshinas. Fenrir reluctantly complied, but he still had the Electric Scion held firmly and uncomfortably; Moshinas' head was pulled up to look at Nazara, who returned his angered gaze with a cool one of her own. "You lose."

    Moshinas growled. "You cheated."

    She shook her head. "No, the deal was you had to land a physical hit on me. I never said anything about help." Then she knelt down and stared into his eyes more fully. "But, see, Moshinas..."

    Her fingers reached out to brush his cheek. Part of him wanted nothing more than to recoil from her - but that wasn't possible, given Fenrir's grip on him. And as strange and juxtaposed to the current situation as it was, there was something... comforting about the touch.

    " don't have anyone to help you. You chose a solitary existence."

    He didn't blink, and continued to wear his grimace of discomfort. The smirk on her face changed... from that arrogant look to something else. Something he wasn't sure he had ever seen before in her.

    "I'm not doing this to embarrass or hurt you, please understand that. But, a deal's a deal. You have to stick around and listen." She directed her gaze to Fenrir. "Let him go."

    Fenrir snarled again, and threw Moshinas' head forward, and thrust his knee into the Electric Scion's back as he got up - a parting shot. Moshinas let out a gasp of relief, and slowly returned to his feet. His outer shirt was definitely fire-damaged, and beyond salvation. At least I wore two, he thought, scowling darkly at Fenrir.

    Then he turned to Nazara. "Fine, I'll stay. But I want my sword. Where is it?"

    "Eirwyn has it," she answered calmly. "She should arrive shortly."

    A thin, reedy voice piped up to one side. "Nazara?"

    Moshinas turned to look at who had spoken the scion's name, and his eyebrows shot up. It was a boy in a wheelchair, a boy who looked like he already had one foot in the grave. The angry green cast in the one eye he could see - the other was obscured by an unkempt, scraggly mess of blond hair - offered him some clue as to the boy's true nature, but he had to attune himself properly to suss it out. Zedona. Of course. He was always ill in previous lives... past ages weren't as kind to the disabled and the sick as this one.

    Zedona had a strange look on his face, and it was one that Moshinas knew from having seen it in the mirror enough times - the boy was worried about something. As he rolled towards the gathering in the sanctuary, he let his wheelchair drift and his hands were wringing.

    "What's wrong?" said Nazara.

    "We... we have a problem."


    Tag anyone else?
    Last edited by mattbcl; 23rd January 2012 at 07:33 PM.

  36. #36
    A serious brain-f*** Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: Clash of the Scions (IT BEGINS! LSUs accepted)


    “We…we have a problem.”

    Fenrir released a growl. “What did you do?”

    Nazara scowled at him and he met her gaze with equal, if not greater, ferocity. “I’m sure it’s not that bad,” she smiled back at Zedona. “What happened?”

    “Well…” the wringing of his hands increased. Sweat shone against the sickly skin of his knuckles. “Graxdon knows.”

    Fenrir clenched and loosened his fists. His fight with Moshinas had warmed his blood, stirred a passion in his soul that he had not felt in too long under Nazara’s choking leadership. He could sense an opportunity to lay into the pathetic Zedona and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip if it should present itself.

    Nazara’s gaze hardened. “Explain.”

    “I don’t know what happened. We were in the same place and I-”

    Fenrir didn’t give the poison-spewer a chance to explain. Striding forward, he kicked the cripple’s chair and sent both vehicle and passenger crashing to the ground. Zedona tumbled out onto the ground and Fenrir pulled him up, holding his feet above the ground. “You useless piece of shit. I’ve been stuck playing nice and you get given one simple job and you go and announce our arrival to one of them?” Spinning round, he launched Zedona into a nearby wall. He thudded against it, powerless, and dropped to the floor with a cry of pain. Fenrir stepped towards him.

    “He only knows about me!”

    Fenrir knelt down and pulled his fist back. Whatever pain the little shit had felt knowing that he had been sleeping with Nazara was nothing compared to the agony the fire scion was about to inflict on him now.

    A touch on his shoulder made him pause and he looked back at Nazara.

    “Stand down.”


    “Stand down, Fenrir.”

    He poured his fury in the gaze he shot her and withdrew, taking a place near Moshinas just in case the other scion got any ideas about leaving.

    “Perhaps we can make something out of this.” She motioned for Moshinas to bring over Zedona’s chair and he obeyed. “Help him up will you?”

    Zedona was lifted back into his chair and Fenrir let a smirk show when he saw the state the little wimp was in. Panting and bleeding, body trembling. Some much damage and he had barely touched the thing.

    “So, Graxdon knows about Zedona. Fenrir’s little exploits earlier mean Tsanjel knows about him and, if history is anything to go by, Pele knows about him too.”

    At the sound of his opposite’s name, Fenrir growled. How he loathed the girl’s existence. It hadn’t taken him long to block out their connection but somehow she continued to sense him. She always knew where to find him. But not this time. This time he was hidden. The girl would have received a flash at best, a glimpse, but nothing to go on. Would she even act on so little?

    Nazara sucked in a breath. “The plan remains unchanged. We just have to be careful about how we implement it. Now we just need-”

    “I’m here!” At that point, Eirwyn ran in, Moshina’s sword in hand. “Sorry I took so long, I had-” Seeing the four of them standing inside that pit of ‘worship’ she paused, scanning between their faces. “What did I miss?”


    She sat in her windowsill, watching as people passed below, making their way to work or to see their family or friends. How naïve they seemed, how distracted by their own lives. They didn’t know the threat that lurked in the shadows, the one that could, any day now, rear its head and bite, tearing away all they held dear. It had been so long since mankind had suffered at the hands of those born to protect them that it had forgotten them. Perhaps that was a greater sin than scorning those born only to carry their sins.

    She looked back into the room and watched several seconds tick by. How long had it been since she had felt that familiar surge of anger and passion? Since she had been plagued by the terrible emotions that only Fenrir, her brother, could inflict on her? It had struck her as she say, meditating, and at first she had not believed it was possible. But it had come again and again, three times in total, and since that time, nothing. Not a spark of displeasure. She had begun to doubt her own feelings but the events of the past would not let her discard her fears. How many lives had fallen to him? How many women savaged, how many homes destroyed by what he could do? She couldn’t afford to dismiss fear but to act so suddenly would put her in danger. So she had waited. And waited. But the feeling had not come again.

    So what do I do? Which course of action should I take? This silence worries me. It is not like him to go quiet. He is a brutal showman, a warrior from a civilisation long since dead, he doesn’t know how to patient. But what if he has learned? What if he is just waiting for the moment when he can inflict the most pain? I never expected him to branch from the others but he did and he caused so much suffering there was nothing I could do to stop him. What if he intends the same again? What if he is just waiting for the right moment to take me out of the equation?

    She knew she might be over-thinking. He could very well not have come back at all. He could still be sleeping, undisturbed in his reincarnation, and what she had felt was nothing more than the tendril of a dream. But she knew she could not take that chance. Guilt would not allow her the pleasure of such a hope. She needed a plan, an alternative, someone to call on should the worst happen. Someone who wasn’t afraid of Fenrir, who would stand a chance of besting him should the time come.

    She needed Angoruuna.

    The scion of ice wasn’t hard to track down. Pele knew her usual haunts and it wasn’t hard picking out which particular one she had decided to settle in. Thankfully, Angoruuna’s nature had meant she had picked out a quiet spot with very few humans who might overhear them or, most likely, end up on the end of Angoruuna’s wrath.

    To say that Pele didn’t agree with the ice scion’s ways was an understatement. Naturally, she felt a somewhat maternal instinct towards the humans and to have one on their side who took so much pleasure in their demise was distressing. In an ideal world, Pele would be able to do something to stop such events from unfolding but as it was they needed Angoruuna. And right now, Pele especially needed her help.

    She approached the table where the woman sat, half in the shadow, half in the light, drinking something that probably had enough kick to kill a small animal.

    Angoruuna caught her eye. “The hell you staring at kid?”

    Pele opened her palm flat and let a small spark ignite. Tiny enough to go unseen by anyone who happened to glance their way but it was enough to reveal her identity. She doused it. “We need to talk.”

    The woman drank and Pele took her silence as an invitation and sat opposite her. “It’s about Fenrir.”

    “He raping and pillaging again? Bet it must be killing him, seeing all these humans giving him a run for his money.”


    The eyebrow raised and that smirk, that twisted grin that Pele loathed so much, the one that was so similar to her brother’s, appeared on Angoruuna’s face. “I strike a nerve there, firefly?”

    Don’t patronise me, Angoruuna. I’m not here to play your games, I’m here…” she needed a breath to compose herself, “I’m here to ask for your help.”

    “You want help, you’re talking to the wrong scion.”

    Pele tried to relax. She had forgotten how taxing it could be trying to talk to Angoruuna and her concern over Fenrir’s resurrection wasn’t helping. She needed to remember her goals and just who it was she was trying to work with. She knew Angoruuna, not thoroughly but enough to turn this in her favour. She just needed to figure out the right angle. “Alright, I’ll rephrase. I want to propose a deal.”

    “A deal? And what, o great watcher, could you possibly have to offer me?”

    “Eirwyn.” Angoruuna’s face was unreadable but Pele knew of the ice scion's preference for her counterpart and so she took what she had and pushed. “If my fears are true and my brother has returned then it is safe to say he isn’t alone. I can find Eirwyn for you. You know I can do it, you know I’m better at hunting her down than even yourself. Promise me that if I cannot fight you will deal with Fenrir and I will make sure you get to your sister first and uninterrupted.”

    “That’s a big ask. Why’s it got to be me takes out the fire-spitter? I don’t care what he does.”

    “Fenrir is a killer. I need a killer to best him. Last time he got too powerful, it took most of us to overcome him. I don’t want to make that mistake again and you are more than strong enough to take care of him.” She sat back. “Agree to back me up against my brother and I’ll give you all the alone time you could ever want with your sister. Sound like a fair deal?”
    Last edited by Samchu; 18th April 2012 at 06:39 PM.

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