Lost Carnival Mods (
ringleaders) wrote in
lostcarnival2017-07-27 08:02 pm
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⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 4 PT2
Who: Anyone and everyone!
When: October 31st, 2017 HALLOWEEN!
Where: The Count of Crow's Underground Realm
What: The displaced carnival members break into the Count of Crow's underground fortress, in the hope of taking control of the ritual and maybe saving Childermass's life.
Warnings: Violence, ritual blood letting, other stuff.
When: October 31st, 2017 HALLOWEEN!
Where: The Count of Crow's Underground Realm
What: The displaced carnival members break into the Count of Crow's underground fortress, in the hope of taking control of the ritual and maybe saving Childermass's life.
Warnings: Violence, ritual blood letting, other stuff.
DAYS OF WINTER PT2↴![]() The night of hallow's eve has come, and there's no more time for waiting. As Portland begins enjoying the festivities of the night, you are tasked with something darker - you must find the Count's realm within Portland's underground tunnels, and fight off those that would stop you. The ritual will be starting soon, and once it's finished the very nature of this reality will be in the Winter Court's hands... the only choice is to intervene. |
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Peridot is the first thing that comes to mind in this situation. Lambert has his crazy Earth Spirit possession magic thing going on, but Peridot isn't really a fighter in either world. Not that he thinks he remembers? So, he uses what boost he can get from his wings and launches himself in Peridot's direction instead - and manages to lift her up in time for one of the spikes to pieces straight through his torso.
...You know, in the harmless gap between the ribs kind of way. It mostly just ruins his hoodie, for now.
"Heh heh," he manages, still holding her up above himself and away from the spikes. "Whoops."
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He was STEADFAST-able to stand against just about anything flying in their way...and that?
Fortunately includes wind.
"TCH- HOLD ON!" he roars, his wings breaking through his shirt to form a slight block. He grabs for Yuuya, holding him close lest the other blow away, and while they aren't moving forward they aren't falling back onto the spikes either.
So it's Something. "NGhhhh..."
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Shock quickly gives way to outrage though, and she starts to growl, some of her more animalistic features beginning to show through.
"RrrrrRRRRRRGHHHH... THIS CLOD IS SERIOUSLY ASKING FOR A CLOBBERING!" she shrieks at what is frankly a legendarily high volume, her declaration carrying on the wind across the courtyard.
She glances down at Sans, eyes flashing with a righteous fury. "Lets get closer so I can fling HOT METAL into his STUPID CRUDDY FACE!"
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In fairness, he wasn't expecting the literal goddamn fucking cavalry.
The literal goddamn fucking cavalry on a unicorn.
Duocorn? Bicorn?
It doesn't even matter. He's bleeding from his side, red soaking into his shaggy blond fur, but he isn't limping yet. It's a weird moment in the midst of all the chaos and violence; Foster's beady blue bear's eye rolling sideways to look Taako and his absurd fantasy steed up and down.
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A familiar screeching overhead makes him glance up.
Right. One of the other reasons he's doing this. Though every second they spend standing here is bringing back more of his real memories, part of him still clings hard to the false life he's lived here, and his resolve firms again, raising his chin and looking at the count. Even if the fae wears no expression at all, Lambert grins, reaching over his shoulder.
It's a funny gesture, since he doesn't have anything there, but the moment his fingers touch it, there's a blaze of light and -- he's holding a sword? It's kind of like a sword. It's really concentrated willpower and whatever the hell kind of earth spirit high he's currently on.
"Come on!" he shouts -- at the Count of Crows, at everyone else trying to converge at the ritual point, at the Earth Spirit, who knows -- and he rushes forward again. He'll be using the 'sword' to parry and cut through whatever's flung his way, entirely heedless of the fact that he's started dripping blood from his nose.
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"So, uh. I mean, fuck this, right?"
And then he quickly scorches a path ahead of them, smashing and melting as many of the blades between them and the circle as possible.
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But the fire shield holds strong-melting things into 'manageable' chunks, and more importantly helping to at least slightly redirect the wind into its own less than horrible hurricane. She's by no means running ahead of the pack, and she certainly won't be there first, but her steps remain steady...a slow, snail's pace forward, the wind even now still blowing her backward along the ice little by little. A step to a few inches, each time, each time.
Her breathing is hoarse, but she's gathering as much strength as she can to make an important push once the opportunity comes.
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But this Rin isn't nearly as spirited or brave as his carnival self, and it takes him a while to reach the actual ritual site. And when he does get there, he's separated from his mom (... not his mom) and overwhelmed by the chaos.
But it is at that moment that a sword, glowing blue with sulfurous hellfire, manifests in his hand.
Kurikara, his memories tell him. His real memories, edging out the rest.
He snarls and calls out, "Dammit! Where the hell is the pendant!?"
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He grabs on tightly and muffles something, before he's able to pull back enough to talk clearly. "The whole ritual is set up, isn't it?! We just have to stop the Count. Iron works on Fae magic, too! We can help clear a path!"
He doesn't know how long this ritual takes, but the more chaotic it gets--the worse of a chance they have.
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The wing goes down, but only so that Gongenzaka can raise his arm in its place...and with it, the chains that Yuuya had given him before.
Iron chains now spin, and Gongenzaka looks to his friend. "HOLD ON!" he shouts, slowly taking a step forward. The chain is his shield, spinning into a fan-defending against the wind while he acts personally as a second shield for his friend and moves still onward.
"This should work!"
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In any case, Lambert seems to be making headway, somehow, and Rita feels inclined to try to catch up to him... but it's as she's running that the Count makes his move, sending a powerful blast of wind that knocks her off her feet. She twists her body around, forcing herself to land on the side of her body that wasn't injured during the Rose Garden attack. While her wounds have mostly healed, her condition isn't perfect and she'd rather not tempt fate.
Then the spears appear, one of them nicking her thigh, another tearing through her jacket and ripping into her arm. Several others come within a hair's breadth of her. Rita squirms on the ground in pain and panic, but soon rises to her feet with a grimace and conjures a burst of flame that spreads outward from her position, melting some of the ice around her. However, the winds emanating from the center push back against the fire, and it doesn't succeed in clearing a path forward.
Whatever. Screw it. Rita's back to trying to move forward, struggling against the wind and weaving around the ice spears where they impede her. If only she had some different offensive spells in her arsenal, then...
... wait. Doesn't she...?
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The Count turns back to his daughters, and nods. All at once, the three of them will begin pouring Childermass's blood onto the snow, which immediately begins to cut and swirl bright red lines across the surface in arcane patterns, extending outwards and to the surrounding pillars to create a full articulated spell circle.
Moments later, a tall wall of spikes will burst from the ground around the ritual area, hoping to block their assailants completely. However, in sparing his magical effort and focusing it towards the ritual, the Count has also allowed the wind to slow somehow - it's still enough to knock a person back if they aren't careful, but it is still less impossibly violent than it was before.
Meanwhile, a burst of flames will erupt from the doorway that everyone has been entering the courtyard from. Who is following them now? Is that Anath's army, or someone else?
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Thankfully, Peridot has just suggested the most lovely idea, whether that plan is being uncomfortably screamed in his direction or not.
"You got it. In the mean time... better get those irons on the fire," he grins. He manages to break free of the ice piercing him, and tucks his arms around her waist, clearly getting ready to lift off with a flair of his wings. "Here we go."
He boosts the two of them into the air, and begins fighting against the wind to make it over that spiked wall, while trying to avoid getting both of them poked full of holes.
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"Gongenzaka, keep clearing a path!" He looks around and up, waving his hand high in the air. "Yugo! Over here! We need to get over the wall!" He's not quite sure how far Yugo drifted off, so he sure hopes he can find Yuya. The air is their best chance now, and Yuya has iron--and a decent throw with his telepathy. He's just gonna need a bit of flight assistance.
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"Hah! You got it...!"
And swoop forward he does despite the headwind against them, scooping him up into his claws. Yugo's crystal wings shine as he fights to counter said resistance with his super flight speed.
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Yuya levels his crowbar, slowly releasing it as it covers with his telekinesis. He aims it like a javelin, closing one eye as he points it at the Count.
And then with as much force as he can muster behind his ESP, he launches the iron crowbar straight for him.
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Hopefully Lambert doesn't mind some back seat rampaging.
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That... actually hurts!? It's so surprising that Tamaki jerks back out of the spikes and is buffeted again by the wind. He hasn't felt pain in years, or at least, his current body hasn't, and it's enough to stun him for a second.
But then he sees Yugo and Sans flying over and realizes, well, duh.
So up and over he goes. Sorry, he can't really... carry passengers...
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"HAUUUUUUHHHH!" And the moment he's close to that wall and within range, punches.
And punches.
And punches-
Presumably this iron lends enough to get a gew cracks going right? Either way if he can't get in himself, he's certainly working to weaken it for that fire sword.
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Not that it slows him down from running at it -- he grips the sword two-handed, bringing it swinging around in a sharp, horizontal slice. The fire gathered around his hands seems to bend and extend somehow, flaring bright, and a good chunk of the wall on the side Lambert's approaching half-shatters, half-melts, finding the cracks Gongenzaka's already formed in the ice and more or less blasting it apart. Some shards of ice might also unfortunately catch a few allies as well as enemies, but that's what just an inevitable consequence of wielding reality-warping power and powered by an Earth Spirit's urgency to undo the Severing, but not the way the Winter Court is doing it.
He's pretty much bleeding freely from his nose and his ears right now, but hey, it's not like he needed to listen to anything, least of all the sudden fire roaring in from some unknown source! He leaps over the icy debris and keeps charging forward, his eyes fixed on the pillar as his destination.
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"Priority one is getting the Count out of there!" she'll shout, to Damien, and to anyone else listening.
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Looking toward the Count and his daughters after Pru's shout, though, he has one other idea. It's one thing that ghosts are good at (besides phasing through things and being generally spooky).
Flying quick towards the daughters, he starts trying to possess one of them, turning into a bright blue light and trying to push her own soul aside. He's never tried this on an unwilling host before, but there's a first time for everything.
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It flies obediently into her hands-- it is so good to have metal powers again-- and she holds it in front of her, calling up a familiar heat to her palms, super heating the metal until it starts to glow and make the air around it shimmer.
She grins at her handiwork. yeah. That'll do.
"Eat this, you stupid, cruddy ULTRA MEGA CLOD!"
As soon as Sans gets her a clear shot, she makes the poker hover in front of her, concentrating with all her might... and then sends it shooting towards the count with as much force as she can muster.
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T/W for self-harm (just in case)
all of my italics are gone OHWELL
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tw: suicidal ideation
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suddenly a psionic
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better late than never :D
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