lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 4 PT2

"Oh God," Pru breathes, before spearing a pair of crows on the Hand of God weapon, currently in the form of a rapier. Her wings are jostled by the vicious winds, but an aura of soft green energy is deflecting some of the worst of it. She wants to take flight, but the wind here would knock her out of the air in no time.

"Damien, we're running short time," she calls out to her friend. Then, she gestures to the ritual and cuts down another crow. One of the remaining demon scouts goes screaming past their group, back towards the rest of Anath's troops, which have been momentarily lost back in the castle. "I mean, obviously."

Edited 2017-07-28 01:16 (UTC)

"Just tell me what to grab!" Ash regretted, now, that she'd spent so much time covering her ass and less getting directly involved. It had all been for nothing, after all. And she didn't want to unleash what she considered to be a doomsday weapon against the Winter Court, but -- well, it might come to that, if she didn't figure out what exactly she should be doing in the first place.

As the ritual’s taken hold, the pain becomes easier and easier for Lambert to shrug off, almost like he’s getting stronger — although he doesn’t dwell on it for long, really, too busy worrying about the magic he can feel in the air. His memories are a confusing swirl of sensation, something that doesn’t entirely make sense in his head, and his steps grow swifter and swifter as urgency mounts, until he’s running past the angels who’ve stopped to survey the scene, shoving past feathers and eyeballs and fuck knows what else to see the ritual with his own eyes.

Chains, ice, and blood. Sora had told Lambert what to expect, but knowing that and seeing it are two different things entirely. The sight of the crow sisters and the Count of Crows standing by the changeling’s body? That summons a white-hot rage that obliterates all uncertainty from Lambert’s mind about what he needs to do.

“You motherfuckers!” As he roars, there’s a pulse of power in the air, something that seems to come almost from underfoot, centered on him — and his voice rises and carries, loud over the howling wind and the flapping wings, echoing around the courtyard. It doesn’t entirely sound like Lambert’s own. It actually doesn’t even sound human at all.

And with that, he’s off, rampaging towards Childermass and the pillar at full speed with no regard for self-preservation, his allies, or much of anyone else really. As the crows descend toward him in a rush of feathers, he waves a hand before him in a sharp, broad arch, and the air above him ripples in a brief shine of golden light, which the birds promptly smash into, but don't seem to immediately break.

"You're not going to grab anything from back here!" Damien shouts, the angel's ritual expert and the guy who recruited Ash's help in the first place. "But if you see one of them with a pendant, go for that! We've gotta-"

And then Lambert goes past without a moment of hesitation, radiating with power and yelling. Damien pauses in his tracks.

"Uh - okay guy?" he yells after him, obviously confused. "Good luck with that?" He looks back to Pru and Ash. "Are you guys seeing this?"

"It looks like it'll make getting Yuya and I to the center of that a lot easier?"

Because um.. Yugo's just as caught off guard by the sight. Because wow.

Peridot runs in a few seconds behind, CONVENIENTLY just in time for a bunch of murderous shadow crows to come diving towards the lot of them. She yelps and shields herself with a burst of fire, vaporizing one of them. When her vision clears...

"LAMBERT, HAVE YOU LOST YOUR DAMN MIND!?" she squawks after him, terror clenching her heart like a set of icy claws.

"Oh my God, I know magic." Like basic telekinetic motion wasn't as low-level a trick as they come. Rather spoiled out of her dramatic entrance by sheer indignation, Ash downright stomped forward, leaving birds to keep bouncing off her wards. She seemed intent on stalking straight the hell up to the ceremony.

Oh. My. God.

Sans has left himself intangible up until this point - some of the blustering magical winds and stray energy manages to shove him around, but for the most part he's made it through okay. His intent has been to just get to the target as quickly as possible, and then wait for the group to organize. It seemed like the best plan, because none of them are an island, and nobody is pulling off this ritual alone.

But then Lambert just fucking Leeroy Jenkinses straight down the center of the courtyard, and he's suddenly thinking that maybe they need a change of plans.

"Welp," he says. "Looks like it's improvisation time."

He zooms off ahead to try to lend Lambert some support. Hey, maybe the guy's got a good thing going?

"Lam--" All right, nevermind. There he goes. He looms like he knows what he's doing...?

Yuya tries not to focus on the sight of Childermass, staying right beside Yugo as he grips the crowbar tighter. He looks aside to his counterpart. "Yeah, we just need the way clear. Are you ready...?"

They only get one chance.

Carly didn't come in with angels. She didn't even come in with anyone really, not after they reached the domain itself. She was left alone in her thoughts, wandering cooridors, picking up 'trinkets', and so on...

Her mind buzzed, but when she reaches the ritual area it hits her as hard as the cold. And there is something to be said about seeing things as they 'return'-experiencing long buried memories, in tandem with others.

Aslla Piscu was never going to change-for a moment, she stands frozen as chaos reigns and others dart ahead, taking the attention of the birds and fae. The shadow pauses and stiffens in dawning fear as his bond grows and pools, as the official truth of everything strikes, as memories of ultimate sacrifices ending in the thousands of people becoming dust and fuel for the dark.

'And what does that make you!?' his bond screams to her, when the nausea and understanding hits. 'You could have rejected my request! You could have failed, or delayed, but you jumped for it the minute you thought you were threatened! YOU'RE NO BETTER!'

The demon's words are hushed with a single change in emotion as pain and agony and misery turn into one single burst of rage, without an ounce of it appearing on Carly's face. For Carly realizes in that moment that Aslla Piscu is right.

As is everyone else who warned her.

...but that is all the more reason that they cannot fail in whatever efforts they are bringing.

The demons are down-they don't appear to be doing well at all-but she remembers Yuugo's words from the fight at the Circle, and she can feel her power swell as her original reserves of strength and magic return, her original branch of 'fire' magic joining in the other.

'Then what do you intend to do from there? Nothing changes. You did just as shameful as I, and I didn't even know what you would be doing! You were the one who painted the lines, you were the one who burnt the flesh, YOU-'

It is now that Carly replies back within the bond.

'Be quiet.'

'So that you can ignore it all, as you ignored me for all of those years..?' the demon replies, unable to contain his mirth this one last time.

Carly does not move so much as an inch. But her eyes flick toward the crows ahead, and the snow around her melts as heat rises off of her shoulders.

And finally, finally, Carly SCREAMS-with flames of red-hot hellfire blasting forward as they mix with the violet of an energy sapping 'twin', fires coiled into a shape to match the screech. The birds are going to have to pay attention to her now, but she finds she no longer cares.

This isn't a stealth mission after all, and with a feral cry accompanied by streaming tears, she's taking out her frustrations on the only thing she can.

Is he ready? More like nervous to all hell despite magic-casting boot camp for most of the past week. But that's why Yugo charges ahead on a plan instead of thinking too hard. Worrying about how you could fail just gets in the way.

"Of course, Yuya! Everyone here can count on me...!"

~~Oh god why does the fate of the world have a chance of falling on this idiot's shoulders?~~

Peridot falters. She doesn't know what to do. She's not-- She wasn't made for combat, and even with all her confidence and her fancy new magic, and the adrenaline coursing through her veins, she's caught flat footed with indecision for a split second as chaos just erupts everywhere.

The only thing that grounds her back in the moment is the knowledge that she has friends here, friends who are currently, stupidly throwing themselves in danger.

Lambert's up ahead. Sans... Sans is here, she remembers him now, and so many of the other people in this room.

She steels herself, grinding her teeth, and then sprints after the two of them, iron poker in hand. If Childermass is stuck in the ice, well, she has fire magic that may be able to help with that.

"What the fuck."

Seriously, here was Ash planning on an epic maneuver built of strategy and raw power, and lo and behold half the supernatural population of Portland was piling in with as much strategy as a slime mold oozing over the pond.

Well, whatever. Since they were all obligingly charging ahead and making good targets of themselves, the mage paused to mutter a spell of scrying, tuned towards the necklace they sought.

"BWAAAHAHAHAHAH!! Are we Leeroy Jenkins'ing this shit?! FANTASTIC!"

That was a fresh meme in 2005. He knows this one.

Zangetsu is now carrying not one but two swords, in his fully angelic form. One sword is made of pure light, and the other seems to be made of gleaming white metal. He swoops past the bulk of the group. He didn't have the finesse to free someone from ice.

But he sure had the power to fight off the crow family. With a sound like a cacophony of trumpets and pained human screams, he descends on the count and his daughters .

There's a lot happening at once here, Tamaki realizes as he emerges from the wall he just passed through (it's easier to get around demons by floating straight through the surrounding earth, he realized). He's finding he recognizes more and more people here, particularly Lambert and Yuya as they head for the center - not just from around Portland, but from the Carnival that is becoming more solid in his mind.

But what's most important here is that everything is freaking scary.

Still, he wants to help the earth spirit, so he flits down around the group approaching the circle behind Lambert, knocking rocks airily into crows as he goes. It works, more or less.

Even buzzing with the borrowed power that makes Lambert feel too small for his skin, Lambert's still Lambert. Mostly. Being possessed by Tamaki was one thing, like trying to share the same seat with someone else: uncomfortable and awkward, but doable. This is...

But it's not trying to wrest control from him, and though his soul feels like it's possibly being put through an industrial-strength washer (it needs it, part of him thinks almost absently) he doesn't have time to dwell on it. The shield dissipates as the shadows are vaporized by it, whatever magic they were being held together dispelled as they hit it, but there are more shadows coming, and the pillar and the ritual still aren't close enough. Lambert's aware he's been followed, but at the moment, he finds he can't much care about who it is.

The world feels like it's brimming with possibility, if he can just reach out and find the right thread to pull. There's stone under all this ice, isn't there?

He shuts his eyes, visualizing a prank he's pulled on -- his sisters? Someone else? he doesn't remember -- like yanking a rug out under someone's feet, except this time, that feeling is directed at the stone under the Count and his sisters.

Although, while he does that, yeah he just stops in the middle of everything, so. There is like no thought to this at all.

Taako, meanwhile-- well, he's focused on two things: keeping himself, Foster, and their other companion from getting murdered, and clearing a path for Foster to make it to... whatever the fuck is going on up there.

His first action is, of course, to cast Shield on himself-- his defense of his ally faltering for even a second could be bad news bears for their plans. Without waiting even a beat, he moves into a cast of Scorching Ray, aiming to clear a path to allow Foster to make his way closer to the ritual itself and, hopefully, whatever it is he'll need to do to stop it.

"Get in there!" He shouts to Foster, taking out as many crows as he can with a sweep of aforementioned Ray.

"Don't break what's already... damn it." He just had to trust them, right? Miss Pru only drilled the strategy to Yuya a dozen times.

Yuya ducks with a yelp as a crow dives for him, swinging with his crowbar to try and bat it away. He starts shuffling closer to the ritual circle, lest he get left behind for the birds.

Edited 2017-07-28 02:15 (UTC)

Gongenzaka isn't really...equipped for this kind of shit. He looks at the slew of overpowered carnival companions ahead (he's slowly and quietly realizing that his alternate reality self may have Screwed Things Up for himself before all of this, but this really isn't the time), and back to the few iron things he's equipped himself with.

Gongenzaka...doesn't have powers to regain. Mostly he's just earning back a few memories, and looking to his friends-who are due to act as the New Catalyst that's presumably replacing whoever is chained to the ice. (That's rough buddy)

...And yet...

As his true self returns, even in undead form, he finds himself imbued with some sort of dedication.

He sets a hand on his friend's shoulder. "...Yuuya," he begins, eyes watering somewhat. "...My memories may have been lost... ...But I, the man Gongenzaka, remember now-! And I will be with you to the end..!"

Are there stray birds coming after them, ones that Yuuya's crowbar missed? (Maybe the one that went for the head?) Because they're getting CLOCKED WITH AN IRON...THING.

He didn't really ask what he was being handed, he was just told it was iron.

"Hey, Peridot," Sans says, becoming physical again and bringing out his scythe. He says it like it's the most casual thing in the world as the two of them group around Lambert's radiating form. Memories have seeped in beyond his notice, and suddenly she's more than an acquaintances sister. She's a coworker. A fellow supervisor. Maybe even a friend?

"Looks like it's up to us to watch your bro's back - guy's got a one track mind," he says. He swipes his spear through the crows that are diving for Lambert in particular, pushing them back with an aura of angelic radiance. "You got this?" he asks her.

"He's being possessed by the earth spirit!" Tamaki calls out to Sans over the din. He feels like that might be important information.

'In there' is a hot fucking mess, but Foster doesn't care. He doesn't care because figuring out what's happening is a lot less important at this point than making sure it doesn't continue happening. He only one directive here: he is not going back.

He is not going back.

He is not going back.

He is not going back.

Foster, all 900 lbs of him, barrels directly into the first crow in his path, roaring as he closes his jaws over a feathery body, feeling bones snapping between his teeth. He doesn't stop to keep fighting in one place--he surges forward, taking advantage of the chaos to aim straight for the circle.

The earth spirit? That catches Peridot's attention, before she can respond to Sans. What the heck was the earth spirit doing possessing Lambert?

No time to dwell on it. She cloaks a fist in a ball of flame and swats away yet another bird, shooting a grin at Sans. "You know what? Yeah! Yeah, I 'got this'!" she chirps much too enthusiastically, bolstered by his acknowledgement, bolstered by the fact that the earth spirit is here with them all, even if it has decided to take over the body of her nerdy not-brother, for some reason. And she shouts more loudly: "WE'VE got this!"

The Count's two daughters stumble, blood accidentally spilling from their bowls and onto the pure white snow beneath. They immediately looked terrified, fearing that mistake will gain their father's disfavor. However, for now, he doesn't pay them any heed.

It's the ground shaking under foot that really gets the Count's attention. It's only now that he turns away from the ritual to face the approaching group - the numbers are swiftly increasing, aren't they? - though his face is still neutral as if formed from inorganic porcelain. The blood bowl rests in one hand as the other is extended towards the attackers, and a violent blast of concussive air will rip out through the crowd, knocking anyone in the air to the ground, and possibly knocking those on the ground to their feet.

As they fall, sharp spears of ice will spike up from the ground, intended to pierce those falling - the needle sharp blades will cover the entire area of the courtyard, and avoiding them will be a challenge. There is something in the wind that makes it able to touch even the intangible - angels and ghosts included, and even the most powerful fliers will be pushed back by its force.

Ash's scrying attempt will show only darkness.

Okay maybe she don't got this

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