lostcarnival | ⇨ The Tourist Trap: WEEK 4 PT2

The wind is difficult to fly against (and it surprised him when it knocked him down, too - normally he's untouchable by things like that!), but Tamaki does his best, aiming for the spikes and trying to get through th-

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...

Yuuya goes with Gongenzaka's blessing-the man hoists his friend up for the Angel's grip, and nods firmly. "Good luck!" he shouts, before resuming his own advance against the Ice. As Damien shouts for the wall to be brought down, he stomps his way toward it himself. He is no fae, nor is he any of these other 'great powers' here...But he has punched through ice as a human, and with iron chains around his fists, he makes his strike-

"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.

It is a little inconvenient when you have a physical body and no airlift, but whether Damien instructs him to or not, all Lambert sees in front of him is another obstacle to his goal.

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.

Edited 2017-07-28 17:56 (UTC)

"NICE!" Damien yells, stepping back as ice shards shower the area. Lambert totally did that because he told him to, obviously.

"GAHH-" OW... That ice DEFINITELY hit him. But, all the same he grins. "EXCELLENT!" They're getting somewhere now!

Pru sighs and wraps her arms around Damien's waist, too, spreading her wings and making her own accelerated path towards the ritual area. The time is coming soon! Better get their asses over there. She's not as good at flying as a full angel, but she's got some of her own tricks up her sleeve.

"Priority one is getting the Count out of there!" she'll shout, to Damien, and to anyone else listening.

Edited 2017-07-28 18:00 (UTC)

Tamaki's first idea upon arriving in the ritual circle was to disturb the patterns of blood, but that idea turns out to be a bust when the red snow is bizarrely hard, like stone.

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.

It's a little hard to maneuver her weapon what with all the flying and the wind, but Peridot is determined, dangit. While Sans takes care of the flying, she calls up her iron poker from the ground below.

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.

Edited 2017-07-28 18:09 (UTC)

Iuliael has been lagging behind. As the angel least likely to hurt anyone it doesn't make much sense for him to be up front, and he really struggled with that wind. This is all too chaotic for him, what he wants most is to pull back, see it from above so he can focus on one thing to fly to. Is that he-as-an-angel's thought? Is that he-as-a-possible-werebeast thought? Yes. Julien never really was big on melees either, he dove, or dives, on them.

Well, someone has to notice the fire behind them. To keep from being blown around Iuliael goes to ground as a vaguely bird-shaped mass of flowing wings, scenting the air and opening eye after eye in a frantic attempt to tell if these are demonic or faerie flames, or anything else.

Not much he can do to slow things down either way. He barely has powers. Except, maybe... Open. After drawing a hastily-formed hand across himself he causes an enormous shadowy window to his inventory appear over part of his body. Rowboat! But not yet! The boat wasn't covered when he put it in so it's full of the amniotic seawater of... of the Earthmind's shared space, whatever that means here, and it will be incredibly heavy and have a lot of momentum when he's ejected it. Probably this will be on the level of a distraction but he works with what he has, and along those lines, the angel starts to sing.

Steven comes running up from the bowels of the castle in a panic. Things are getting extremely intense in there, and more than accomplishing anything Steven feels like he's been running around in a panic, staving off attacks. Thankfully, with every stride it feels like he can run faster and hit harder - but that doesn't mean he can stand up against an army of demons and the Lord of Conflagration himself.

As soon as he makes it into the courtyard, he finds himself met with an attacking swarm of crows. He raises his arms in reflexive defense, but instead of merely protecting his vital areas, a shimmering pink light comes from his body - forming a rose vine theme shield in from of him and anyone he's with. Crows repel off the surface like hail off a window, and Steven stumbles back against the force.

Is all this really him? He's not sure he understands, how any version of him could be like the things he's feeling now. More important than all that, though, is how he can see through the path that Lambert has just cleared - he can see Childermass there, bleeding and cold.

That could have been him. It could have been, if Childermass himself hadn't warned him away. It isn't fair, he keeps thinking. None of this is fair.

But there's something he can still do. He starts trying to push his way through the snow, keeping his shield raised. Deeply, instinctually, the sight of someone hurt makes him remember: he can do something about this. He can help. It's in his nature.

Taako's magic gives Foster a clear path--at least for the moment. The familiarity of Peridot's voice, is only noise to him, Lambert and Sans' faces in the chaos an ugly distraction. Any trace of sympathy he might have had for them is blighted by the knowledge that their success would only condemn him to the sick fate on the other side of reality.

He would rather see them die.

With the wind weaker, his charge is unimpeded, but he's still not fast enough to beat the rise of the barrier. He's forced to hit the brakes before he skewers himself on it, veering off and half skidding on the ice as he runs the spiky perimetre with a gutteral roar of frustration.

The crack of ice brings him back around--massive paws churning up snow as he races for the breach, still alight with hellfire. Anyone still in his way will be run down without a second thought.

His target, like everyone else's, is the Count.

Edited (This thread advanced way ahead of where I'd written to in the time it took to write it.... ) 2017-07-28 18:44 (UTC)

The wind has died down, enough for Rin to make progress forward. The ritual area is blocked off by ice, though some of it has been destroyed by attacks.

Memories. Memories of blue conflagrations and fire as hot as the sun. He can do that. He can break that. The ice of a true fae versus the fire of the antichrist. Rin gets as close as he can to the circle of ice, coming at it from a different angle than most of the charge. He snarls and his blade flares blue with an audible "fwoosh".

"I can do this... I can use my powers to help people...!" He raises his blade up-- "SATAN--" and drives it deep into the rock hard snow. "-- CAMPFIRE!"

Undoubtedly a stupid name for an attack, but the ability itself is incredible. Rin is engulfed in a bonfire of blue flames that immediately expand and radiate outward. The flames sizzle against the ice with intense heat, but those allies caught in the blast feel nothing more than a pleasant warmth -- probably welcome in the biting cold.

If the flames breach the barrier, though, the Count and his daughters would not be so lucky.

Satan...campfire?

The sheer strangeness of the shout, on top of Other strange shouts, pulls Carly's attention...but more importantly, so does the blue. Blue...she remembers this..she remembers-

"Rin!" She shouts, changing course and turning her flames to add support. "Where's Blue?" Demons, angels, at this point whoever wins won't matter-as long as the Court isn't it, and as long as it's their spellcaster choosing how any doors to open.

Prefferably all.

The priorities of a fae can be strange, at times - particularly when it comes to winning. Dominating others is its own reason, and despite all he's done, despite everything... the Count understands that if he doesn't get this job done, someone else will. It isn't life or death for him, and it never has been.

It's simply a matter of power, and a matter of setting boundaries. It's been a hard journey, fighting against the Summer Court on a planet already claimed by their Queen, but he's done magnificently, he thinks, with how little resources he's been given. In the last twenty years especially.

The sight of these angels, these demons, but barely a peep from the Summer Court... it fills him with a dark satisfaction. Despite everything, he has still come out on top. His kind is resources, his kind is clever. His kind also knows when to pull back and reassess.

When the two bolts of iron are thrown at him, it's not as if he hasn't been anticipating the possibility. When living on a human world, you always have to expect that it will be their weapon of choice. His feathered cape dissolves into shadows, then then reforms as an enormous black grow, back to his back, lashing out with wings and talons at those that would approach. Of course, it isn't nearly as effective against super heated metal. The iron pieces sink into the shadow bird, and its will dissolve back into darkness, the Count lurching forward as it burns holes through his body and magical protections.

He drops his bowl, and so does his daughter, the one being attacked by that ghost. They both shatter into bloody shards. His fingers sizzle gruesomely, as if melting at the touch of acid, when he grabs the metal poker that impaled him, and tears it the rest of the way out his body. As it drops to the ground, his body melts into pure shadow, spreading across the snow and disappearing in all directions. For now. His daughters are left in the center, alone with their strung up brother.

An acceptable result. Yet, wouldn't absolute victory be sweet?

"Alright...!!"

Look who's pumped and enthused despite the awaiting burden he has to bear as the ritual's new caster. Yugo dives down and with the Count's magic gone, already has his tail at work to scatter away the bloody snow and gives the the daughter that isn't preoccupied by Tamaki a warning snarl.

Wanna mess with such a bestial-looking guardian?

Meanwhile, clearly someone else from right behind him is already charging to free that guy up there. Yugo and Yuya have work to do if the situation lets them.

Edited 2017-07-28 20:16 (UTC)

Amidst the chaos, Taako does his best to keep step with Foster, Garyl's galloping doing a much better job of it than he could on his own-- but the barrier's rise, Foster's subsequent sudden stop throws both spectral steed and rider for a loop, and Taako is very nearly thrown from Garyl as he skids to a halt.

Well, it looks like the crowd has taken down one of those raven dudes-- which suits Taako and his companions just fine. He only has a moment to reflect on it, however, before the barrier is breached, and Foster is on the move again, charging off into the fray.

"Follow that bear!" He calls to Garyl, who hesitates, glancing back at his rider for a moment.

"Okay, but, like, you know this is crazy, right?"

Taako rolls his eyes, leaning down to almost shout at his steed over the din of the ongoing battle.

"I don't give a shit. Go!"

"Alright, alright, damn." And, with that, Garyl charges after Foster, Taako continuing to clear the air and ground with magic to the best of his ability.

Edited 2017-07-28 20:32 (UTC)

The count dissipates into shadow, other bodies descend, and it sincerely doesn't matter to Lambert very much at the moment -- his attention's still fixed on the pillar, his goal set in his mind. Someone else can worry about the ritual; someone else can worry about the crow sisters, and the Count bleeding into shadows. He's aware of the flurry of activity, and he feels the Earth Spirit's own hope rising in his chest, though there's still a bit of concern at the back of his mind about where the pendant is now...

Like a complete asshole who has no idea what the concepts of 'teamwork' or even 'cooperation for mutual goals' means or looks like, Lambert's going to run wide past the sisters, right for that grotesque, blood-stained pillar holding Childermass bound, and stabs his sword right into the ice with a shout--

(He can't actually hear himself, but for anyone in the vicinity who's in any state to hear, it's pretty much 'FUCK YOU AND FUCK THIS.')

-- and the pillar turns into into a tower of snow, glowing and holding still for few heartbeats as the sword sinks into it, before it bursts outward. Even in the impromptu miniature snowstorm, Lambert doesn't loses sight of his goal, and he lunges forward for the dark shape that drops when the pillar disintegrates.

Although Childermass lands in his arms like the world's largest, impossibly gangly frozen salmon, Lambert manages to keep both of them from slamming into the ground. Unfortunately, that's all he's able to do, because as he opens his mouth to say something -- call out to his sister, try to wake up Childermass, something -- he doubles over, frowns, and coughs blood right onto Childermass's already-bloody chest.

Ah. Fuck.

And with that, his eyes roll back up in his head and his grip on Childermass loosens as he folding right down into the snow, the last of Earth Spirit's strength leaves him before it can burn him out. Although if someone were to step on his head right now after all those dramatics it would be a spectacularly pathetic way to go.

Edited 2017-07-28 20:49 (UTC)

The ice is mostly gone thanks to a variety of colored hellfires, the Count has made a cowardly escape, and his daughters and their sacrifice are left standing dumbfounded. Fae.

And of course, that's when Zangetsu manages to get a better look at the daughters, one of them in specific. It was her. The one that had stolen the pendant from him while he wasn't paying attention. Oh yeah. She was going to pay.

He makes his move quickly, charging forward on all six of his creepy angel legs and aiming to plow right into one of the crow daughters. If she doesn't manage to get out of the way, the dragon head growing from the base of his spine starts biting and ripping and tearing -- along with all the claws on his hands.

Yuya leaps out of Yugo's arms as they descend into the circle, looking determined and proud as the Count begins to dissolve. "We did it! Now we can--"

Everyone else busts in at much the same time, but what cuts him off is Lambert screaming as he thrusts his blade into the pillar and breaks Childermass free. It's even worse a sight of close, but at least he's safe. Now they just have to find the pendant and take control of the ritual.

"Lambert, you..." are now doubling over and puking up blood. "Lambert!" He runs straight for them, panicked.

Well, the daughter only sort of gets out of the way - which is all she ends up needing to do, because shortly after setting Peridot down with a glowing "nice one!", Sans has witnessed this about to occur. Now that the count has gone down, the wind is much less distracting - meaning there is nothing stopping him from summoning his scythe and putting himself between Zangetsu and the crow daughter.

Sans is a much smaller angel, his his wings and halo are flared bright as he blocks defensively with his weapon, holding the warrior angel back. This isn't what he's made for, but he'll try.

"Knock it off," he snaps. "She's a changeling, man. She's brainwashed."

Edited 2017-07-28 20:56 (UTC)

Well. That's... gruesome. And something he's going to have to deal with, not now but any second. Foster's ears flip back back, just briefly, at the sound of hooves, but the Count is gone and all he cares about now is the pendant.

Their ticket home.

His ticket to stopping them.

He doesn't have a clear plan here--not for finding it before someone else. He lowers his head, sniffing for it in the snow--but listening and watching for when someone else claims it first.

Steven sees all of this unfold as he tries to cross the spike filled courtyard, raising his shield defensively out of the wind. He sees Peridot and Yuuya make their attacks, and Lambert cut down the wall - he sees the Count take a hit and melt into shadow. His pace quickens.

Then he sees Lambert and Childermass both fall limply to the ground, and tears are already springing to his eyes. Suddenly, he finds himself jumping - and then just sailing higher and higher, like he's flying, his wings flapping gentle as he ascends into the ritual circle.

"Lambert!" he gasps, running towards the pile of snow and the two bleeding men. "Is... are... are they..."

The myriad eyes on his other head stop swirling about and stay in one place, narrowing into glares. Then they close, and reopen as too many mouths with blunt human teeth. When he speaks, he speaks in hundreds of voices from the mouths and from the mouth of the dragon.

"I don't care. She made a fool out of me! I won't allow it," he says with contempt. Then all his mouths laugh in unison. "And if you think you can stand in my way, you have another thing coming!"

He raises one of his sickle-like middle legs and moves to knock Sans aside.

Edited 2017-07-28 21:18 (UTC)

No, no, no. Yuya kneels beside them, leaning over as he looks for signs of life. He puts one hand on Childermass's chest to feel for a heartbeat while trying to listen for breathing from Lambert.

"They're alive," He breathes out, but he doesn't sound relieved. They were alive, but how long did they have? "They're alive but--isn't there anyone with healing magic?" That was the specialty of angels, right? And they have a lot of angels. "We need it now!"

They needed help. They're all supposed to get out of here and back to the carnival--back home. All of them.

Sans darts aside too rapidly to see with the naked eye, dodging the attempted swipe but refusing to get out of Zangetsu's grill either. Instead he brandishes his scythe, slicing inward and trying to sever that entire arm.

"No wonder Marmaroth was such a crap angel," Sans says, his seven eyes slanted and deadly. "This source material is weak."

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