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middleofsomewhere2020-09-15 10:04 pm
voidtreckermods) wrote in middleofsomewhere2020-09-15 10:04 pm
Onward: Purple
Villages
Each village has a central area and that is where the blighted have gathered. Or, not just the blighted; truthfully, most people have gathered in the commons. It is a hub of activity, people gathered for safety, for company. There is plenty to do for anyone not currently fighting golems or trolls: the village wells are often on the vulnerable outskirts, so fetching water is an important chore, as is collecting firewood.
Inside the village halls, there are injured to be tended and the blighted to care for. Most of them are well enough, they just are unable to do much for fear it will set off the powers inside them. They need help with most basic things, and apologies for stray fireballs or flash-frozen surfaces can be frequently heard in the large spaces.
Roaming
The outskirts of the villages are where the danger lurks: golems and trolls roam the woods and will lumber out to attack when they get near the villages, especially if they see people.
The trolls are big and swing large clubs with impressive strength and control. Their cunning makes them harder to fight than may be expected from their brutish appearance, teaming up or feigning attacks to get the upper hand. Their skin is mildly resistant to magic, but their size makes them easy targets.
Likewise, the golems are not particularly hard to find, nor hard to hit. They are, however, highly resistant to most damage. The crystal set into their faceplate pulses with a sickly, overbright energy that continues even if removed from the golem. (The golem itself does not continue, but falls into a passive state.) Golems are not equipped with weaponry, nor do they have any ranged attacks; their offense is great, spinning punches, or bulldozing.
Further afield, wild animals roam in great numbers, displaced from their usual homes by the aggressive trolls and misfiring golems - or blighted members of their own species.
Purification
Roughly in the centre of the cluster of villages, there stands a shrine. It is a simple structure, dark, curved walls open to the sky. Within the shrine, a circular pit about a foot deep can be found, which is where the crystals must be placed.
The ritual itself is simple, though requires some magical casting. Those who do not share in the magical arts can be helpful by helping clean, polish or mend the crystals before the ritual, or even by taking part in the chants. The natural, latent energies of living beings aid in the ritual, it seems, and so the attendants will not turn away any who wish to remain.
For the most part the ritual doesn’t look too exciting: chanting, small spells being cast into the crystal with small flares of light or song. However, right at the climax of the ritual, the whole pit burns with a brilliant light that fills the shrine before flowing back into the crystal. Once purified, the crystals can be placed back into an inactive golem, which will take up their natural roles of protectors of the villages if they are not in too poor a shape.
Each village has a central area and that is where the blighted have gathered. Or, not just the blighted; truthfully, most people have gathered in the commons. It is a hub of activity, people gathered for safety, for company. There is plenty to do for anyone not currently fighting golems or trolls: the village wells are often on the vulnerable outskirts, so fetching water is an important chore, as is collecting firewood.
Inside the village halls, there are injured to be tended and the blighted to care for. Most of them are well enough, they just are unable to do much for fear it will set off the powers inside them. They need help with most basic things, and apologies for stray fireballs or flash-frozen surfaces can be frequently heard in the large spaces.
Roaming
The outskirts of the villages are where the danger lurks: golems and trolls roam the woods and will lumber out to attack when they get near the villages, especially if they see people.
The trolls are big and swing large clubs with impressive strength and control. Their cunning makes them harder to fight than may be expected from their brutish appearance, teaming up or feigning attacks to get the upper hand. Their skin is mildly resistant to magic, but their size makes them easy targets.
Likewise, the golems are not particularly hard to find, nor hard to hit. They are, however, highly resistant to most damage. The crystal set into their faceplate pulses with a sickly, overbright energy that continues even if removed from the golem. (The golem itself does not continue, but falls into a passive state.) Golems are not equipped with weaponry, nor do they have any ranged attacks; their offense is great, spinning punches, or bulldozing.
Further afield, wild animals roam in great numbers, displaced from their usual homes by the aggressive trolls and misfiring golems - or blighted members of their own species.
Purification
Roughly in the centre of the cluster of villages, there stands a shrine. It is a simple structure, dark, curved walls open to the sky. Within the shrine, a circular pit about a foot deep can be found, which is where the crystals must be placed.
The ritual itself is simple, though requires some magical casting. Those who do not share in the magical arts can be helpful by helping clean, polish or mend the crystals before the ritual, or even by taking part in the chants. The natural, latent energies of living beings aid in the ritual, it seems, and so the attendants will not turn away any who wish to remain.
For the most part the ritual doesn’t look too exciting: chanting, small spells being cast into the crystal with small flares of light or song. However, right at the climax of the ritual, the whole pit burns with a brilliant light that fills the shrine before flowing back into the crystal. Once purified, the crystals can be placed back into an inactive golem, which will take up their natural roles of protectors of the villages if they are not in too poor a shape.
no subject
Besides, Reno didn't fear Inigo. He was confident in his own abilities and he'd never thought of Inigo as competent in his own. The other may have been a fighter but Reno was a specialist. He felt as though Inigo had nothing on him. But that was typical from him.
Reno easily sidestepped and brought up his baton to block the blow. It wasn't the first time he had fought off a sword wielder with his Electro-Mag Rod. It wouldn't be the last, no doubt.
A small chuckle left Reno's throat. "Heh. That all you got?"
Reno pushed back and disengaged from the stalemate, flipping back to give himself space before Inigo's next attack. He waited for the first sign--then flung his arm out as if he were going to throw his baton in a side-swipe at Inigo. What released was three round balls of electricity at high speed, hard to dodge if not paying close attention, and spread out so that if one was avoided it might mean running into one of the other ones.
no subject
So he just fights. It's hard to tell whether or not he even remembers that Roland is right there, watching them. Probably not. It's like Inigo has blocked out the entire rest of the world right now. There's only him and Reno with his incredibly punchable face.
.. and his magic. Inigo probably should know better than to fight people with more abilities tham him, but at this point Reno could have been the freaking god of the world and he wouldn't have cared, would still have jumped in like this all the same. It's not like it's the first time he's facing someone using magic, anyway.
So when the balls of electricity start flying out, Inigo actually does manage to dodge the first two, always having compensated for his lack of muscle compared to some of the more bulky fighters with how nimble he is, so light on his feet. But it's practically impossible to avoid all three, and so the third one does hit him right in the shin.
And it hurts. Of course it does. Taking electricity straight to the shin isn't a walk in the park, and Inigo has always hated the way you seem to feel it in your entire body, shaking you up, jolting every single nerve, like there's pinpricks absolutely everywhere.
But it's not like that's enough to take him down. The Risen hadn't all lost their unique ways of fighting as quickly as they had lost their personality, after all, and there are only so many times you can take a Thoron straight to the face before you learn that you just got to grit your teeth and not let it stop you until your body gives out.
What he does, however, realise is that he's got to get that baton away from Reno. It's too big of an advantage, especially since he's going to have a harder time dodging now. So big that Inigo realises it even in the middle of his haze of emotions.
He runs back over to Reno - leaning more heavily on his uninjured leg this time, for obvious reasons, but he's used to that kind of injured improvisation more than he ought to be - this time swinging his sword straight at Reno's face. He only switches its course at the last minute to instead aim for Reno's wrist hard with the blunt edge of the sword, attempting to get him to slip up with his grip on the baton.
no subject
It throws Roland off. It makes him move to the beat of his pure instinct, realizing that it's distance they need to gain. He needed to create that gap. He had to carve it, even if he takes the hit for it. He needed to get Reno as far away from Inigo as possible.
Roland sees what Inigo was trying to do in his desperation to disarm Reno, but Roland knows that might be next to impossible if the other could see Inigo's strongarm coming a mile away. And with so much proximity closing in, Reno would have the advantage, able to apply more damage in less amount of time. A kick. A punch. A headbutt. More magic. Roland can see it like ghosts, vestiges of possibilities where Reno might harm Inigo even more than he already has.
So he moves decisively, legs carrying him swiftly to the pair in their struggle despite the white noise building up inside of him. When he gains enough momentum, Roland leaps into the air. It's high enough that he can see both from a bird's eye view, and with it, a better vantage point to help him separate one from the other. He aims the barrel of the Interstellar gun downwards, confidently with one arm extended, and the magic does the rest. Roland's aim is deliberately moving to a place where he attempts to predict where Reno would evade versus where he was standing at the moment. That way, it would spare Inigo the recoil and would help ensure Roland a more accurate shot.
As the window of opportunity closes in, he pulls the trigger and Heavy Ammo rains down like a black meteor, its nucleus writhing with gravitational energy. It wasn't a move that would give heavy damage, but it was meant to stop; to force an opponent to fall down as if they had just been slammed with an anchor.
no subject
Reno didn't even try to block Inigo's attack but instead backflipped away as soon as Inigo even tried to close the distance. A small little "haha!" of laughter escaped him as he stood out of reach. He grinned cheekily at Inigo and was just about to counter when a flash of movement above caught his attention. He looked up and frowned.
He started to jump back for another dodge but the black blast that Roland sent towards him was much larger than anticipated and Reno cringed as it hit him. More annoyingly, he felt the tug of a Gravity type spell pull on him and force him to the ground. He fell to one knee.
Unfortunately for Roland not only was the damage not enough to truly harm Reno, but the gravitational pull wasn't enough to hold him in place. Reno had long ago made certain that anything that could slow, stop, or hinder his speed was unacceptable and taken precautions against it. He also had precautions against anything that would prevent his usage of magic and abilities. The perks of being a professional Turk.
There was that shark-like grin again as his head tilted up to look at his opponents. He didn't even bother to stand up first--that would have projected his intentions--but simply dashed straight from his position. Electricity crackled around him as he Flashstriked towards Inigo, zipping past the other at the speed of lightning. The attack was low damage from his passing but the true intention was disorientation and rapid use of his speed to throw off his opponent.
Besides that, Reno had a new target in his sights. Roland had joined the fight and Reno was more than happy to show Roland what it meant to go against a Turk. He barely waited for Roland to hit the ground before he sent out a EM Triple Shot at the other man, three balls of lightning heading directly for the dark haired man at a quick pace.
no subject
Especially when Reno is doing everything he can to make sure he gains the upper-hand. Regular tactics weren't going to cut it here and Roland is made plainly aware of that the moment his feet touch the ground and already, three of the same balls of electricity were headed his way. There was no hitting or dodging this...unless he used something special, just for this particular opponent. Who by all means, shouldn't even be an opponent, especially now of all times, on a mission where he needed everyone to remain united!
Looks like I'm using that. And it was risky. Evan was the first to master it, but Roland was always the chronic overthinker. The Ding Dong Discipline required a constant state of readiness, no matter how close the danger got to you. The president realizes there was going to be no better time than now to test his own mastery of such a technique as the EM Triple Shot grows so close he can almost feel the shock against his skin. Reno isn't hesitating, and Roland finds that as permission to do the same.
He braces himself and remembers what he can of it - that it's meant to slow down your own time so that you can evade at literally, the last second. It leaves just enough space to make someone invulnerable, open to an attack at the speed in which you react to something so close. So he does it, he attempts it, the surrounding dulling into a close like a tunnel, as if the only thing he can hear and see are Reno and the three electrodes ready to fry him.
Don't think. Do!
He sees the opening, small as it was. One ball manages to hit his shoulder still, even as he maneuvers around Reno. He ignores it completely, forces himself to run to the side and like the technique promises, he is able to evade further damage when the other two hit virtually nothing. Roland is on the move when time begins to tick for them both, and his gun is already charged with a laser beam erupting from the barrel of the pistol in a ray of pulsating magic headed straight for the man himself.
no subject
He didn't really have time to react. He did anyway of course, professional instincts and training kicking in, but it wasn't enough even at his speed. He spun around in time to see the shot that hit him. He let out a pained noise and grimaced as the pain shot through.
It was just one hit though and he was tougher than he looked. He gritted through the pain and moved forward. Lightning crackled but only at the tip of his baton this time as he ran towards Roland and closed the distance for a four hit combo--three strikes from his baton and a follow-up kick if any of the other blows struck.
A dodge or hard block was the easiest way to throw Reno off once he got into a melee fight like this, his speed causing him to have a hard time to readjust once he got going.
no subject
But Roland is long past admiration the moment he knew the kind of venom Reno could spew; the violence he could inflict even on the kind and gentle. And he doubts Reno would be the type to apologize for it, or make amends. The baton he raises to harm without hesitation speaks so much louder than words, after all.
'So much for him being part of the Public Safety department!'
He engages his instincts at the right moment when Reno rushes him straight up, a sword, any of the three swords he has in his Arms Band appearing in a brilliant sparkle, gripped tightly with two hands. He blocks it, but does struggle at the speed in which each hit connects seamlessly. When he kicks, Roland braces himself for it and doesn't relent, digging his heels deeper into the ground to stop himself from being pushed back too far. Distance, he realizes then, is what makes Reno strong. The farther away he seems to be, the more control he'll have over the battle.
But it's Reno who comes to engage him in close-range melee - Roland's specialty. He dovetails immediately after Reno's retaliation, pushing himself forward with an alternate storm of horizontal and vertical slashes, ending in a flip that allows his weapon a downwards force upon descent. Should Reno block it with his baton, Roland will take that time to say something, an attempt, a responsible attempt to cease this before it gets too far.
"Put it down and walk away." He'll force out of him, still to this moment being as diplomatic as he can be. For whatever that's going to be worth.
no subject
So even when the stun does wear off, it takes about all Inigo initially has to be able to grab the salve that Roland threw in his direction. At least he knows what to do with it, even when the world seems like it's suddenly spinning faster again. But the time he needs to get the lid off in that state to be able to actually use the salve is enough that by the time he's done and looking back up again, his blurry vision finally becoming clear again, as if he put on glasses, Reno and Roland are already locked into melee combat.
And he's unsure of what to do. Does he run over, help out? It's his initial instinct, not wanting to see Roland hurt, but the insecurity of how much he's already screwed so far tells him that he'd just get in the way. That he'd just make it harder for Roland to fight, that Inigo would just get his ass handed to him on a platter by Reno even more. Not to mention that Roland does seem to be much more in his element now, up close with Reno like that.
"Reno, just-- cut it out, okay!" Inigo instead ends up calling out. But there's nothing angry about it anymore, not like earlier. It's like the instinctive anger ebbed away along with the dizziness, like it also managed to clear his head a bit emotionally. If anything, it edges closer to a plea. The last thing he wants to see is Roland getting hurt just because Inigo was an idiot who couldn't control his anger at hearing Reno's dumb usual jabs.
He's still holding onto his sword with one hand though, climbing back up to his feet. Just in case this keeps going and he does need to do something.
no subject
Reno pointed his baton at Roland but it was simply a flashy gesture rather than an attack. "You first," he sneered at Roland. "I may not have started this fight but I'm damn well going to finish it!"
His eyes slid over to Inigo after his bold statement as if to challenge the idiotic boy to refute his insinuation. Not that it mattered who Roland believed at this point in time, he had already pissed off Reno by interfering. The Turk was ready to send someone home in a body bag, just like the good old times. Truth be told he probably wouldn't kill anyone today but he would beat them half to death and leave them lying in the forest on their own without hesitation. That was just the way it was for someone who was for all intents and purposes a company gangster. A hitman and a spy rolled into one with the attitude and demeanor of a delinquent youth. He hadn't been quite this vicious in some time though but damn if it didn't feel familiarly good. All he was missing was his partner to make it perfect.
His eyes darted back to Roland and locked on with a deep seated anger darkening his gaze. He couldn't care less about Inigo for the moment. The boy had gone back to pleading like a pansy and all Reno saw right now was the fucking asshole that had turned on him the moment he entered the field. He wasn't going to let that go anytime soon. He certainly wasn't going to put his weapon down and walk away. Either Roland was going to fuck off or Reno was going to continue trying to all but murder the man for pissing him off.
If Roland wasn't here and Inigo had begun to plea like that for Reno to stop he might have basked in the win, gloated and forced the boy to beg a little more, and soaked in the feeling of superiority. He would have stopped attacking because his job was done. Fear was a Turk's greatest asset and striking it into his enemies was all Reno needed. Besides, Inigo was just a kid. Reno didn't have any intention of killing him. Never had any such animosity towards him. And despite his tough act he didn't kill kids, only roughed them up a bit sometimes (and even then might feel a little guilty for it not that he would admit it).
Roland was another story altogether. He wasn't just a dumb kid, and he had held a certain amount of respect as someone who got shit done. Reno had an odd sense of justice and for Roland's betrayal he wasn't so easily going to let the man off--not unless he backed down while he had the chance. It was a short window.
A short window of time in which Reno waited for Roland's response, his baton at the ready but silent and still.
I'M VERY SORRY FOR THE LATENESS :c
He is at a loss for what's happened. How did it get from standing up to a bully to this? Being at the forefront of such malice, such bloodthirst that forces his instincts to run on overdrive. They're on the same train, same team, yet none of that camaraderie exists for him now, it seems. And it's a shame, that it devolves into something he can no longer control. That Reno is both the man who helped heal him and a bunch of other innocents back in Terra, the man who has shown him cockiness that by all means, are now warranted given his skills, a sly confidence that boded no ill-will? Only interest, however faint. Now, his eyes are gleaming with something Roland knows only to be sinister, like Reno would pounce if he got that opening.
Maybe this break in the fight, reaching its peak immediately after they get into the thick of things, is the only boon Reno will grant Roland now. So, ever the peacemaker, Roland takes it without question. Never mind his growing disappointment that someone like him could do this, could retaliate and raise his hand against a teenager who finally had enough of the taunting and pain.
The dark-haired man doesn't take his eyes off of Reno for a single moment, though his feet shuffle to try and come closer to Inigo. Sword still ready to block, if he rushes. Roland's mouth in a grim, tight line.
"Fine. Then you're not finishing a thing. It's done. This is done. We're walking. Enough's enough." He replies, a cool steel lending an edge to his voice. A command to obey, a persona he hasn't used in a long time. He lowers his sword, somewhat. "Find a punching bag and take it out on that, Reno. We're all just trying to get by here, whether or not you like it."
Roland finally relents and drops his sword such that the tip of it grazes the ground. He wants to check up on Inigo badly, so badly it's taking almost all of his effort not to crane his head and abandon Reno totally. But until he knows for certain they're safe to turn their back to him, he won't. Won't give him another opening, won't give him another chance to hurt.
Besides. This dark mark on his person will be hard-pressed to fade any time soon. Roland can't forget these offenses against Inigo, nevermind himself. Until he makes amends, real and true, and something tells him Reno's not that kind of guy at all. So be it.
no subject
Things probably would have been very different if Roland hadn't been here. If it had just been Inigo's life on the line, he really wouldn't have cared. Even though it became obvious really quickly that Reno outmatches him, he just would've kept going, kept standing up after being knocked down, no matter how hurt he'd get. That's fine, Inigo can take it. He'd never beg for his own life, doesn't care enough about said life to even think about it.
But Roland getting hurt-- no, never. It's only that thought that drives the worry into his eyes, that makes Inigo jog over (obviously too slow to be attempting to rush Reno, and on purpose - he doesn't want the other to see it as an invitation to start this whole thing all over again) until he's by Roland's side. Sword still in his hands, but more defensive than anything. Inigo doesn't trust Reno as far as he could throw the guy, and he sure won't hesitate to attempt to parry a blow meant for Roland, or even take one for him if there's no other choice.
Right now though.. Inigo just hopes that Reno actually takes those words and stops. No more of this dumb thing, caused by Inigo's own misery. Maybe that's why he decides to stay quiet, like he doesn't want to ruin this further by opening his mouth and saying something stupid.
1/2 (or 3 maybe)
The last sentence was practically growled out between his teeth-gritting sneer as he leaned forward almost theatrically. It was a tale-tell sign that he was about to bolt forward for another attack. The lightning sparked around him as he stepped towards the pair, about to dash around them in one of his zig-zag patterns that left electrical energy in his wake, a stunning trap if ran into, and left him on the other side of the battlefield ready to strike again from a new position.
no subject
Still, maybe it was just hot-blooded sparring. Just guys being dudes. Just heroes being guys. Just... She considered them, still hidden behind textured layers of illusory magic, unseen eyes flickering to watch all three men simultaneously. It looked like a grudge match, actually. Then Roland got involved, and, hey, hey. Mutiny? Was that what--- okay, maybe she spent a good minute frozen in panic, trying to understand what was going on, but if there was one thing she understood, it was how a fight was going to turn out, even without mystical foresight. Roland and Inigo, they were both solidly in Hero Mode, ready to go down with pride, or whatever. Ready to face defeat, be the bigger person.
Screw that.
It was easy to forget that spider threads were, by nature, almost invisible. Fine, magically-enhanced silk so thin that without a glint of light or moisture against them, they might as well not exist. Making them thick, visible, like the threads on the train? That was politeness. Laziness, even. But she was a creature evolved from a line of monsters designed for assassination and ambush, and hooking threads to Roland and Reno's armbands was... easy, actually. After months of nothing but experimenting, setting up a web in the area was just a case of flick, flick, flick, until the ground was layered with webbing, securing them both.
Roland wasn't moving, so that would work out fine. Reno, on the other hand, was braced like a sprinter. They'd still hold him, but... Hmm. Should she warn him...?
Nah, probably fine.
3/3
He groaned from the ground where he landed, not quite certain what the hell just happened. He sat up quickly though once his brain caught up to the fact that he was still engaged in battle (as far as he was concerned). His eyes flicked to Roland and then Inigo but he knew without looking that neither of them had anything to do with what captured him and flung him back. He had felt the pull of the string-like substance on him. But the glance towards them did confirm that they hadn't made a move on him in the interim.
He bared his teeth in frustration but took the risk to look down at his wrist where the black band sat. He couldn't see the lines of string until he moved his wrist just right and caught the briefest of glimpses of something shiny and thin like fishing string attached to him. What the hell? It took him a moment to make the connection.
"Damn it! Let go!"
He yelled it loud enough for most of the forest to hear him. He didn't know where the spider was but he damn well wasn't pleased. However, his voice had more of a whine to it than vehemence. He was stuck until she let him out or he wore down the strong web with too much time and effort--in other words, he recognized defeat when he saw it.