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New Allies
#71
Thunder and fire roared in Ivan's ears. His vision had long since faded. He barely felt his body at all. It was as if he were a conduit and molten ice and jagged shards of frozen lava poured through him, scouring the edges of his soul, ripping at him, gashes of agony and pain, acid burning into the wounds.

It.Would.Not.Stop!!

He tried to picture Zara, to remember her dimpled smiling face looking up at him, tried to fight whatever was happening to him, tried to hold on to any of those massive shards flowing through him, to use them.

It was like trying to grab something without hands.

He was been worn away.
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#72
It was like his fingers were slick with oil or lube, unable to find any grip or way to slip in between the mist thing and Ivan. Fuck, but this was ridiculous. He amped up his power and tried again, trying to make the flows smaller but it seemed there was no gap between the two.

Poor bastard, he thought as he looked around for the Lady. Yeah, she was in a bitchy mood tonight. Not that he had a right to complain. Not really, he told himself. Just a game, Mik. Don't get hung up on it all. It's just a... Bah! Games at least gave you a fighting chance. Sometimes. Movement caught his eye.

Great. Just fucking great! There was another one. His weaves lessened as he cast about in his mind. The mist shifted and billowed slowly as it floated about the pavilion. That was odd. The other one had jumped on Ivan like one of the street urchins did to the candy bars he'd held out to them. Time seemed to stretch for a moment. It was usually about now that he saw the Lady peek out behind the veil, wink at him, and shrug, telling him it was his move. Where was she? He scratched the back of his neck even as another showed itself.

He gulped, feeling fear heavy like lead drop in his stomach. From what Ivan was going through, this was gonna suck. Like a bag of dicks, it was gonna suck. And yet strangely, he started to laugh. Is this how he went out? Well fuck that noise. And fuck that bitch too. He wasn't gonna go out on his knees. Fuck no. Bring it on.

He thought he heard laughter...and a moment later a roar. His face split in a mother fucking grin. Goddamn right!!! Fucking Ryker! Yeah, he liked that guy. The two in the air were drifting about slowly. And then suddenly, a tendril of....whatever-the-fuck-it-was lashed out at the other. The fuck? The other responded. What the hell was he seeing?

They moved about each other like fat lazy cats, paws suddenly striking out. What it did, he had no fucking clue. Clouds were clouds. He never saw a cloud cat fight.

He pulled in as much power as he could and wove, remembering what Ryker said. Fire was his game, but that worked into this. Water and air flowed from him to the creatures and a stream of heat flowed back to him which he sent into the ground. Easy peasy. Little bastards billowed and he coulda swore the clouds grew faces for a moment, both looking at him.

He grinned defiantly. "Come on fuckers!!! You wanna play?" He increased the flow and the heat flowing through him into the ground made him feel giddy. Well, that and the power. And maybe the not-dying tonight part. There was a lot more fun to be had in life yet. And fuck but this was fun. The things seemed to fall slowly to the ground, snowflakes of...whatever the hell they were.

And no, he wasn't imagining it. He saw faces now. Twisted and angry and purple or grey. Phantom limbs tried to run at him but could only move like they were in water. The heat flowed from them to him and they firmed up now, solid, black ice and grey blue, mouths open to reveal a furnace behind them, though it seemed to be shrinking.

Yeah, he knew what to do. A bat of air formed in front of him and he swung with all his strength, idly wondering if their heads would shatter like glass or would feel like hitting a melon.

Glass. Very cool. Lifeless- headless- corpses fell to the ground, smokey tendrils coming off them. He turn, readying his weave for the one on Ivan's sweet ass. Yeah, he definitely saw a face there in the mist, mouth open. He got the impression it was looking past him to the ground of its buddies. It darted- well, stumbled more like it- into the air. Good to know. Fuckers got all fat and lazy when they decided to jump on people.

Ivan fell forward, face planting into the ground.

He looked around at the shambles that had been the big party. Emptied out like the cops had been called. He walked over to Ivan and tried to roll him over. Fucking tank, he had to heave him onto his back. Bags under his eyes said that he was down for the next few hours. Guess he'd have to wait for that kiss. He breathed though.

Mik looked up into the sky, only a few stars visible what with all the lights and what not.

And he felt the smile and the wink of green.

And he couldn't help himself. He laughed and laughed, until his body shook and tears rolled.

The Lady was a fucking queen. And she knew how to show a guy a good time.
"Good and ill. 
We're like the wind, 
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
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#73
“I would never let you be prey,” she clarified with the pinch of a frown, though she appreciated the sentiment. The rest she absorbed quietly but for the hint of a sharp smile at his more intimate words. Nhysa stood, reflecting on the advice Li offered as her stance took her to move as a shield in front of him. No hand offered him help to stand, though she would not stop him if he hauled himself up under his own steam. He cautioned her away from the ijiraq, and the concern seemed mutual. Better he stay on the floor.

She did not usually work with others, yet she found his counsel agreeable -- if she had never used the shadows to such an end. It seemed possible, though. The power poured into her, but no hunger snared the fled creature back to her lure. It seemed Li was right.

Yells pierced the sudden quiet; the peal of an order. Nhysa well enough recognised the tone for something less than civilian. It ended quickly after that, and she saw no need to intervene. The boy cackled laughter for his victory, but it was the bloodied girl Nhysa’s gaze settled on; the one her dark friend had curled hooks into her skin to follow. “I believe they came for her,” she said lightly, head half tilted in interest. But it was to Li she turned, hand outstretched to help him up now if he still needed it.
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#74
This time she was prepared for the rip.

Aching steps drew her close enough to see. The molten flame of her body’s pain was unabashed, but she would witness this; to honour, or to spit upon the creatures who thought they could control her, she was not sure. Each death plucked a sliver of soul from her chest; more pain than Ryker could ever inflict. She nearly fell. Her skull was blessedly silent, but it was an emptiness that keened terrible in the darkness.

Her lips curled into something of a cold smile for the end she saw, and she spat more blood from her mouth, feeling the curling charm of dizziness begin to beckon her to a sweeter oblivion. Mikhail’s laughter chilled the heart to madness, if she’d had one to chill. She supposed he’d made a friend the night she abandoned him at the Hole to rip Rafael from Kasun’s bloody maw. It twisted something in her stomach. A remnant she suddenly realised should be cut out, whatever promises she had made.

Ori swayed a little. Falling unconscious in the company of the man who’d tried to rape her was not an appetising prospect, though she was gratified to see him quite beautifully doubled up in pain. If she crumpled now there would be no strength left to claw though; blood soaked from hip to ankle on her left side, skin and clothes melted. But fuck if it didn’t leave the rot of dissatisfaction in her gut. The choke of Ryker’s retribution was an ephemeral pleasure. She knew he’d forgotten her already.
"You say you're a godman. So what? 
I'm the devil herself"
Alpha ~ Little Destroyer
[Image: orianderis.jpg]
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#75
Li watched in horror as things played out. The power was far. He was not running but fear - this was a different fear. Monsters in dungeons and broken on the floor was different than those here and now. He'd lead a sheltered life if this is what a full time hunter faced. He was just a toy among the weeds.

Doubt cracked his mind and he stood up when Nhysa offered her hand. The woman from the pit had the look of better days gone. Where there were three, now there were none. "Your hutch pays out. She's worth following." He smirked.

He sighed. "I think I need a nap." His hand went to his head. "I think it was feeding on my power. Should we check on your morsel?"
“What you must do," said Monkey, "is lure the monster from its hiding place, but be certain it is a fight you can survive.” 
― Wu Cheng'en, Monkey: The Journey to the West

biography


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#76
Nhysa was a connoisseur of fear. It was such a useful tool in her line of work. But if it was also one she usually took no pleasure in wielding (the wielding of other tools, yes), she certainly knew when to recognise its tells in the face of another. By the tilt of her head she was faintly surprised to see it in Tan Li. Not that the last few moments had not fired her own blood hot, but she supposed the ruthlessness of her training crafted a different beast than the artifice of Hollywood.

Of course, the creatures had not exactly attacked her, and neither had she been strangled to unconsciousness mere moments ago in the theoretical hope it might prise one free. She was rather glad it had worked, of course; she would have been disappointed to see him die.

She pressed her hand over top his where he touched his head. Nhysa was not generally concerned with cleaning up, nor even really the mystery of why the shadows had insisted on her presence. “It clearly found you delicious.” She smirked. The shine in her eyes suggested she might also be hungry, but she was content to box the desire up and save it for later. Such voracious appetites would probably not be satisfied with a man who did indeed look like he may need a nap.

Nhysa didn’t turn her body away from Li, but she did finally turn her consideration to the girl, once more at his behest. At the Almaz there had been some strange sense of connection. Perhaps just the kindred nature of the power, and not really enough to stir any sense of obligation, but she did sigh then, and twisted to watch the strange gathering as though they were a rabble of rambunctious children who had gotten too rough with their play.

Now that the crowds had dispersed and she could really see, she was bemused to find the man she had presumed for ex-military among them, and bowed over like he had sustained injury. A body sprawled on the ground, dead or maybe unconscious, and the boy still cackled like he was disturbed in the head. The girl herself was barely recognisable, and yet still managing to shoot daggers from the swollen slits of her eyes. From her limited experience, Nhysa doubted she would be able to command power under the duress of such extensive injuries in order to spark confrontation anew, but it certainly looked like she might try.

“I… suppose,” Nhysa conceded. Her lips pursed, but then she shrugged. “I will take her to Ilya, and then I will take you home.” A hospital would ask questions, and a doctor such as he might be able to do more for her than ordinary means. Plus, he would ask far fewer questions, nor be disturbed that Nhysa planned to dust her palms and leave her there.
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#77
[Image: attachment.php?aid=52]


++++++

When Mik iced the foggy bitches into shattered glass, Ryker sneered with good riddance. Ivan was face-down, dead or not, either way, he was useless. Mik laughed like a maniac. Ryker gathered himself enough to stand erect. Pain riddled his body, but it was the kind that shuddered with the ache of the power that came with it. He dug deep into himself and reached out for that furious light, finding only a wall. The snarl returned as he sought the reason.

Oriena.

She cut a red figure. His hatred saw her doused in a veil of blood. The rage of it was unexpected, even for himself who slept with the cold mistress of brutality. It was with calculated intent that he turned away from Ivan, Mikhael, and the others, stalking toward her with murderous purpose.
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#78
There was a hunger in Nhysa's eyes and Li was eager to see where it lead but the pain pounding in his head was still a reminder that he'd almost died. But then what better way to make that realization flip on its head. He was a live - with a pretty woman. He returned her with a smile and a wink. Maybe home was not too far off.

But as he looked at the fallen woman things were about to get worse. "It looks like her attacker is not done with her yet." Li looked around there was few people around mostly those who had been brave enough to stay and film the incident. The sirens of the CCDPD could be heard growing nearer, but they weren't here yet.

There were cameras still rolling. A man in specific was filming the hulking man as he headed the fallen morsel's direction. Whatever had brought Nhyssa here was correct, where this woman went danger followed. Not that Li felt every remotely qualified to do this work at the moment. What was he - a glorified movie star who played at hunting monsters. He shook of his doubts as he yelled towards the man. He didn't want to get too close, and his anger rear its head in his direction. [color#1ce]"Hey. I remember you. You alright?"[/color] It was a pretense to make the man stop and turn and focus elsewhere. He didn't really care what he did but he also didn't want to shout. 'Hey there is a guy filming your every action and you could go to jail if you keep doing what you are doing.' out loud.

Li looked around nervously and saw those things were good and truly dead - shattered glass couldn't feed on you. He hoped as he closed his eyes and found the serenity of his teachings. It was there, the light shining and shimmering and he took hold and wrestled it to his grasp, creating a funnel of air to amplify his voice just for the man's hearing. "This guy is going to catch whatever you plan on doing on camera. And while the scene would make a great movie, let's not put you behind bars tonight." He didn't know why he cared if the man made it behind bars and maybe he didn't. But if it stopped him from his angry plans that was for the better all the way around. Li didn't want to play hero, and he knew now he was not suited to do so.
“What you must do," said Monkey, "is lure the monster from its hiding place, but be certain it is a fight you can survive.” 
― Wu Cheng'en, Monkey: The Journey to the West

biography


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#79
Well, fuck. A little laughter choked. Seemed she was very wrong. She'd forgotten about that.

"You were so generous with your gifts, Ryker," she taunted his stalk, words low and slurred. "Did you think I would not be generous in kind?"

She knew the feeling; cut off from the only thing that mattered, and he had seen her reaction to the same interference too, when Brandon had bound her at the ball. That hellfire hatred was naught but a fucking mirror. He would not realise that it had saved him from the ijiraq too, no more than she had cared for the same knowledge at the time.

The thing was, Ryker was of no interest to her permanently impotent. The games she played with power were slippery things, and most times her motivations were misinterpreted. Ori didn't care to explain herself.

She'd chain this demon for fun, not for purpose; twist him to violence and obsession; to lust and hatred, until the very thought of her sickened him with shame, and he knew her for a devil in kind.

But it was no sort of entertainment tickling the chin of a monster if he could not bite.

Of course, right now she was barely upright. And she was reckless for the thrill not fucking suicidal. Even if the light didn't sift through her grasp like sand she was unlikely to grant him release when she was going to end up a smear on the pavement for it. Though by the look of him he might do that anyway.

Her vision was blurring now, quite badly. Perhaps she would not be awake to feel it.

"Come, give me another of your sweet kisses. But who do you think will undo it if you kill me, sweetheart." It seemed even death she would court until the end, shamelessly provocative. If she was going to die it would be on her feet. "I'm quite defenseless. Is that the way you like it best?"

[[Not ignoring Li, she is just tunnel visioned Smile]]
"You say you're a godman. So what? 
I'm the devil herself"
Alpha ~ Little Destroyer
[Image: orianderis.jpg]
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#80
The laughter finally subsided and Mik felt that warm sense of peace that usually came from a hit or a shot or three. All loosey goosey and shit. He stood, not particularly tired. Ivan breathed and only had a slight scrape on his cheek from the fall. Coulda been worse.

The sounds of the sirens came to him and instinct lanced through him. Get the fuck outta there! Buuuut....he still needed to see on a few things. Ivan was good, moaning a bit but that was about it. So he'd keep. Couple looky-loos stood around with cameras. Morons. Li was over with another chick who looked to be holding him up. Kinda funny, actually. She wasn't exactly huge. He called out, the power amplifying his voice and Mik took notice.

Yeah, little miss thing was swaying,bloodied and beaten, looking defiant and spitting rage and blood at Ryker. The fuck was going on? Last inkling he got was that he was trying to stick it to the Spider. Not that Mik wouldn't go for either as well- or both for that matter. Now that would be a thing. But she was nowhere to be found. Probably trying to salvage this mess. Guess his and Ivan's little tricks ended up being unnecessary- for now.

Anyway, where was he? O yeah, Ryker, looking at Ori like he wanted to throttle her. Which he just didn't plain get. Hatred was such a fucking waste of energy. Revenge, sure. Payback. But taking shit too seriously was the biggest joke of all. It was why pops had had such a rough time of it. And so many others. Ego was stupid. At least in so far as it made you do stupid things. Having fun was one thing. Being a little bitch, quite another.

And Ryker was being a little bitch.

He looked at Ori as he approached then at Ryker, shooting fire or whatever from his eyes. He slipped into the role easily enough, stepping between them but slightly off to the side, not making it seem he was blocking the man, smiling and laughing good naturedly, as if it had all been in good fun. Mostly cuz it was. "Come on, bruh. You got your ass handed to you by that thing. So did Ivan, poor bastard." He chuckled slightly, gesturing with his head in that direction. "He's out for the night. But you're standing. Let's go drink it off." He purposely didn't look back at Ori.

The power was still coursing through him and he wasn't exactly worried. He felt nothing from Ryker. But bringing a guy down from a temper was an art.
"Good and ill. 
We're like the wind, 
we blows both ways."
- Mad Sweeney, American Gods
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