Eldrin/Vai
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Kaepora Gaebora
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Post by Eldrin/Vai on Feb 8, 2016 20:49:08 GMT -6
Eldrin was just about to reach out and grasp Anaius's hand when he felt a particularly solid blow smashed into his eye socket. Kadina was screeching something about getting off. The thief had to give a little wry smirk even as he reeled back from the blow. "Quite a fetish, tov-" The next blow caught him in the jaw, wiping the smile from his lips and the words from his mouth. He tried to replace the smile, but the next blow hit him in the neck. He was desperately gasping for air, doubled over, with Kadina now raining blows upon the back of his head, when Ozzy spoke. He wasn't sure exactly what she said... but he heard something about things living in swamps. Oh, that made perfect sense. She was trying to murder Mister Iona (the leech, not the insane Gerudo), albeit by hitting everywhere but the leech. That bitch! He was just about to explode on her about how tovahs don't murder each other's pets, and how he'd never beat Kitty with a stick, when he picked up something odd out of the corner of his eye. Azrael reaching for his sword. Eldrin became speed incarnate.
Deftly, he caught Kadina's next blow. In one sweeping movement, he twisted the stick out of her hand, simultaneously shoving her behind him. He tossed the stick into his left hand and held it across Ozzy's chest, while his right hand held Kadina behind him. For that second, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, his heart raced. Even with Kadina, he didn't know if he could defeat Azrael without straight up killing him. He had no idea if Anaius or Ozzy could fight, and even then, they really had no reason to not go all out and try to kill the monk. Then Azrael released his weapon, leaving a thin smear of blood upon the hilt. The knife had cut him. Holy fuck. Eldrin had launched surprise attacks on his cousin hundreds of times, but never once had he drawn blood.
The monk whispered to himself, but the thief's keen ears heard all. Something was wrong. Azrael thought they were in danger, but that's not what worried Eldrin. It seemed that, more than they were, Azrael himself was in danger. Then he walked away. Eldrin tickled Mister Iona absent-mindedly, causing the leech to release instantly. He released the poor thing back into the swamp water, never once taking his eyes off of the monk.
He looked at Kadina, words weren't necessary. The worry in his eyes was abundantly clear. "Time for an adventure..." he muttered gravely, giving only a half-hearted smile. Adventures were normally good things... but he wasn't sure about this. He began to follow after his cousin, tossing the stick back to Kadina. He was about ten steps away when he turned back to look at Ozzy and Anaius. His smile transitioned into a more genuine grin. "Well, newbies... this can be goodbye... or you change your lives forever. Your choice." Eldrin walked away without another word, increasing his pace slightly to catch up with his cousin.
"Az, talk to me bud. What the fuck was that? Tell me what's going on, so I can help."
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Kadina
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If you're bored then you're boring.
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Post by Kadina on Feb 9, 2016 20:11:24 GMT -6
The pesky little thing was putting up a fight, but Kadina would be damned before she let the parasite draw another ounce of blood from her tovah... or be outmatched by a critter a fraction of her size for that matter. Her force grew in unison with her humiliation as she continued to repeatedly miss her target.
"Hang on buddy!" She thought she might have heard Ozzy say something astute, but nothing could stop her relentless determination in the midst of raising her stick for the final blow.
Suddenly, before she could send the little bugger into the afterlife for Azrael to deal with, Eldrin's hand snapped up like a baba to meet her stick with a wrenching grip. He yanked it from her hand simultaneously sweeping her and Ozzy behind him. Kadina immediately recognized that he was trying to protect them, but from what? He was the one with a blood-sucking, disease-carrying leech on his face.
Confused, Kadina tilted her head to peak over his shoulder.
"Azrael?" Her words were soft with concern.
How could she have been so blind? Here she was trying to defend Eldrin from a teensy leech when Azrael was the one who needed help. She frowned as she observed the wound on his hand, dripping scarlet and muddling the green waters with rust. But it wasn't the open cut that worried her as much as the look in his eyes. The real pain was in his head.
As Eldrin turned to stare at Kadina, she could see her concern mirrored on his face.
"Time for an adventure." He said, conjuring the notorious smile that she could always count on. However, his words sounded less like a jovial announcement and more like an assignment, a mission to rescue their beloved monk from whatever ailed him.
Kadina half-heartedly returned a brief simper and nodded her head silently. There was never a time that she wasn't grateful to be adventuring with her friends, even/especially when that meant ambushing pirate hideouts or rushing hordes of zombies. But this was one of those situations that made her feel choked for breath and uneasy, like something valuable was on the line. Something more valuable than any riches or gold. Like the time Eldrin was latched to Calamity's machine or when Max was kidnapped by Syrus. The fear of losing her friends was the most gripping and surreal emotion that had ever come over her. It was a priority, above all else, to protect their well-being. No matter the cost.
With that being said, she looked at Ozzy and Anaius, not as potential victims of her greed but as an unspoken s.o.s.
"Well, newbies... this can be goodbye... or you change your lives forever. Your choice."
"And, seeing how you've managed to survive 5 minutes of utter chaos and lunacy without running in the opposite direction, I'd be willing to bet that you two would fit it in juuuust fine." She winked and hoisted her stick up at an angle to rest on her shoulder. Then she crossed her ankles, pivoted on her heel, and followed Eldrin.
"Where are you headed anyway?" She inquired from Azrael's side opposite of Eldrin as she caught up.
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Post by Rii/Thell on Feb 10, 2016 15:13:47 GMT -6
One moment Ozzy was eying the devilish charmer named Eldrin as he was being beaten (far more so than that leech of his), and then the next... She stiffened as Azrael's bloodied hand hit her shoulder. Eldrin had tried to push her away with Kadina's staff, as if Azrael was a threat when he reached for his sword, but he hadn't taken it out, and now he was standing right in front of Ozzy. Touching Ozzy. Her eyes snapped to his, just in time to watch his gaze shine purple, a foreboding flash. Well, if the eyes are the window to the soul, purple flashes can't be good for the soul... Could be a song. Yes, this could be good. What a beautiful tale it would make. I can tell already. Ozzy barely even registered the sticky red blood that remained on her shoulder - luckily not the bright orange of her tunic. Instead, her eyes trailed Azrael as he pushed away from her.
This man wasn't in his right mind (and the left mind wasn't the greatest of places to be, so she'd heard).
And then, unlike in many tales she had performed before, Eldrin and Kadina turned to her and Anaius and essentially invited them to come along. Even with the tag line of "change your lives forever". It was rather... underwhelming. Sure, there were the occasional stories of people seeking out adventurers, asking for help, reaching out their hands with a challenge on their lips. But they were executed in such... grander ways. Ozzy blinked, eyebrows raised. Is this so, universe? Is this how you plan to instigate my adventure? Really? I was hoping for something a little more dramatic, epic, thrilling, grandiose if you will. Most of her epics told of heroes who were unknowingly thrown into the thick of it, champions who had humble beginnings where they themselves sought out the journey but were refused at every turn, great defenders of Hyrule who started out as witnesses but insisted on tagging along for the greater good, heroines who were dragged along and ended up far more involved (the "I guess I'm hurling daggers and thwarting maniacal masterminds" sort of involved) than they originally intended (the "Oh, I'm just here to buy a new cloak, don't mind me" involved). Well fine. I guess this will have to do.
"Well, there's that. So long as there's a musical intermission somewhere in there." Ozzy gave a careless shrug and grinned recklessly at Anaius. "Hey mind reader, guess what I'm thinking?" She didn't wait longer than half a second. "Sorry, only joking. We'll investigate your touch trick later, yeah? The answer is, I think I'll follow the parade. Now, you hitching your wagon too or am I leaving you here?"
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on Feb 15, 2016 14:37:58 GMT -6
The entire ordeal with the leech, along with the dramatic exit from Azreal, and the sudden shift in attitude from Eldrin, all faded as quickly as they began. These people are odd, Anaius thought, However, I cannot help being drawn to them. They are just so.....curious. Not moments after this thought Ozzy said her goodbye and began toward the others. She inquired about his involvement before going and Anaius simply nodded, following behind her. The confusion on his face was obvious as he stayed in step behind the others. This group was by far the most adventurous he had ever met. In fact this was the only adventurous group that he had met outside the orphanage. A wry little smile worked its way onto his face. This band of travelers, he knew, was exactly where he belonged.
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Azrael/Iris
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A drunk monk who hates social events and worms
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Relationship: Single
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Post by Azrael/Iris on Feb 16, 2016 13:04:37 GMT -6
Everything sounded like he was underwater. Azrael didn't even feel like he was in his own body. The monk could hear Eldrin asking him what was happening and then a moment later he felt Kadina's presence on his other side and heard her ask where they were headed.
"Sanctuary... safety..." he muttered in response, he slumped to his left and shouldered into Eldrin's side.
"Not safe... body... like gate... keeps spirits in... returns... to... afterlife..." he managed to say through deep breaths. He pushed himself off of Eldrin using his left shoulder and caught himself on Kadina's shoulder. The wound had sealed at a rather inhuman pace, his arm quivered and shook as he steadied himself using Kadina as a crutch.
"Just a bit further... temple... sacred place... birth place of... Majora's Mask... healing place for... me." he gasped before pushing himself off of Kadina and standing up straight.
He stood there for a moment before he doubled over and let loose a sea of projectile vomit, it splashed against a tree some 10 feet away before he fell to his knees and grasped the sides of his head.
What let loose from his mouth was a sound that no mortal should ever hear...
It was a scream.
Not from Azrael's own vocal cords.
What was let loose from his mouth sounded like a thousand voices all screaming at once.
Screaming in terrible and agonizing pain.
They continued for another minute before Azrael collapsed into the swampy water.
The monk laid in the water for but a moment before he struggled to pull himself up into a sitting position, his wet hair hung in front of his face.
He pulled his bag around and started to dig around in it until he came upon a glass bottle with what appeared to be a purple light in it, pulling the bottle up to his mouth he unstoppered the cork with his mouth and spat it into the swamp and the purple light swirled out and turned itself into a poe.
"This is a guide poe... it will lead us to the temple..." Azrael sighed before standing back up on his feet.
The poe nodded and started to float, it's lantern lighting the way before them.
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Kadina
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If you're bored then you're boring.
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Post by Kadina on Feb 25, 2016 13:11:30 GMT -6
Kadina was trying to interpret Azrael's broken plea while holding him stable when he suddenly slumped off of her shoulder and lurched over in a heaving fit. This wasn't your typical chunky split-pea-soup-looking vomit. No, a dense gush of black bile hurled from his throat as he spasmed to expel it and weakly fell to his knees. As he splashed down, more muck and puke splattered on Kadina who, unfortunately, was a sympathetic vomiter.
She swiftly cupped her hands over her mouth and shut her eyes trying her best not to compound the vile scenario, but there was suddenly a piercing shrill of a thousand shrieking banshees and she was forced to muffle the sound. The harsh dissonance combined with her sympathetic nausea gave her a strange sense of vertigo causing her to teeter off balance. She felt the contents of her stomach bubbling up like the pits of Death Mountain ready to explode. Bending over, the bandit placed her hands on her knees and prepared for the worst. Her eyes were still squeezed shut as she tried to meditate her way out of the innevitable.
Poor Azrael. He must have felt 1,000 times her discomfort.
Though it had once been a foggy experience to recollect, the cries of the departed had suddenly jogged her memory of being dead. It was pitch black and cold, like wandering an endless cavern with the occasional colorful flames – or spirits – floating by. She remembered feeling like her entire body had fallen asleep the way your limbs do when you've sat or lied on them too long. Everything was fuzzy, numb, and distant. She heard voices speaking in strained whispers and then she heard Tagor call her name before a jolt of electricity zapped her in the chest and the theoretical walls began to pulse. She could feel the pressure of space increase with every resounding throb until she choked awake. Alive.
But Azrael was a vessel for harboring the dead, each spirit poisoning him like a toxic venom as they found refuge in his divine capsule. He was their shepherd, the only one that could transcend beyond his physical state to escort them out of a metaphysical hell. He was the faerie to the afterlife. Like a curse, he was a gatekeeper paying a toll for his own services in the form of illness and insanity.
Kadina, distracted by these thoughts and memories, was able to suppress her nausea. When she felt stable enough to reopen her eyes, she saw Azrael sitting up and releasing a poe from a bottle. Its eerie cackle upon freedom sent a chill down the gypsy's spine.
"This is a guide poe... it will lead us to the temple..."
"Oh." Just gonna casually follow this spirit into the dark dank scary swamp. Okay.
As it lead the way, Kadina offered her hand to Azrael and pulled him out of the puddle of puke, then gestured for everyone to go ahead happy that the other two had come along. Once the pack had passed infront of her, she turned to the side and retched on the base of a tree.
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Post by Rii/Thell on Mar 3, 2016 14:58:27 GMT -6
Ozzy frowned as Azrael stumbled between Kadina and Eldrin, rambling about body gates and spirits of the afterlife and- Majora's Mask! The thing of legend! Specifically one of the many legends of the Hero of Time, Link himself! Well... technically it was one of the many documented Legends of Zelda (which, like Link, was a very popular name for a kid if you wanted them to be destined for adventure and a blessing from one of the goddesses), but to this day Ozzy couldn't fathom as to why that was. Zelda was, of course, critical in the tale, but the documentation and the interviews and the investigations all tended to center around Link. If the names weren't such a common, household thing, Ozzy would have switched it to the Legends of Link when she first started traveling. But alas, the Legends of Zelda had already gained popularity, leaving Ozzy to find things that rhymed with 'Zelda'.
Well, maybe if she said "yelled" with some weird sort of southern accent at the end it could rhyme-
Her eardrums shattered.
Okay so maybe she was being a tad dramatic. Her eardrums hadn't shattered per se, but at the sound of that inhuman chorus of screams pouring out of Azrael's mouth, they certainly felt shattered. Ozzy's eyes widened and zeroed in on Azrael, entranced. Great goddesses, what a sound. It was higher than any note she could dream of playing on her E string at the very edge of the fingerboard, harsher than a poorly placed bow on the peak of the bridge, and sharp - like knives.
Ozzy's expression was slack as her eyes mindlessly followed Azrael's movements, the uncorking of the bottle with a pop that might've sounded more distinct if it hadn't tried to follow a cacophony of suffering, the rising of the poe that cackled softly and floated forward with Azrael's lantern.
And then, a handful of seconds late, she murmured "A poe" with a dash of wonderment. Those, too, had been sung of in tales she performed, and she strode after it for a moment before pausing and glancing back at Azrael. Any good heroine needed to look after her comrades, even if they all were new and weird and utterly disappointing when it came to inviting other perfect strangers to join their quest. "Are you going to make it to the temple?" She remembered his bloodied hand on her shoulder and how he drunkenly tossed his weight from person to person not minutes earlier. Was someone going to have to carry him? Because personally, Ozzy did not have much in the way of strength.
She decided to ignore Kadina bestowing her last meal to an unsuspecting swamp tree.
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Azrael/Iris
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A drunk monk who hates social events and worms
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Post by Azrael/Iris on Jun 28, 2016 1:19:33 GMT -6
The poe led the ragtag team of adventurers and a dying monk of the dead deeper and deeper into the ancient swamp. Sounds of howler monkeys replaced with the growling of alligators all waiting and eyeing the group with a hungry gaze. The humidity was the worst bit, making the group sweat buckets. You would be a fool to wander into this part of the swamp in thick clothing, yet, Azrael seemed to not mind nor notice the humidity. His face and body drenched with the sweat from something else, as if he were already on fire from within.
The poe was usually not needed as Azrael knew the location of the temple already, but, it was more so there so Azrael could have an energy source. Guidance Poes help the lost and unfortunate no matter what as they were not spirits of the deceased, but synthetic spirits created by Azrael's order. Unfortunately, the recipe was lost centuries ago and Guidance Poes are all but extinct. Azrael had traveled to a far off land to acquire this one and would never have released it if the situation were not dire.
Bugs swarmed around them, yet none dared to bite any of the travelers. As if something warded them away.
After what had seemed like months of walking, the group came upon a clearing. The sun was high in the sky and it was bright as a large pyramid structure towered over them, it's stone was as black as the night sky.
"Welcome... to the birthplace of evil." Azrael sighed as he gazed upon it.
"Do not fear the name. It has another... a secret one known to my order. There is no word for it in the Hylain tongue.. I suppose the closest thing would be 'hospital'."
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Eldrin/Vai
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Kaepora Gaebora
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Post by Eldrin/Vai on Aug 15, 2016 17:09:48 GMT -6
Eldrin was watching a bloated bloodfly buzzing at about arm length. It was about half the size of his fist, with huge bulging scarlet eyes and a long black proboscis coiled in front of its face. If allowed to come close, it would have been terrifying, but it was held back by some unseen force. Its colleagues were not even trying, perhaps being more sensible than this one.
Eldrin turned his attention away from the grotesque creature, and onto the giant black pyramid before them. "Well, that was already the most evil thing I've seen all week, but you just had to add the whole 'birthplace' part, huh Az? Makes sense I guess, I mean, if evils gonna be born anywhere, might as well be a hospital, right? Heh heh..." Eldrin for once was cut short from his blabbering... not by some active event, but through the slow realization of what he stood before. See, Eldrin wasn't exactly the most intuitive person alive. For someone who had been strapped to a machine and had his soul ripped out and then torn to pieces, he wasn't particularly spiritual. These things took a moment for him to grasp. But that also meant that when it reached him, it cut straight to his core. Chills ran down the thief's spine. His throat suddenly seemed awfully dry, and goosebumps covered his arms.
It hadn't really bothered him when Azrael had puked up black bile, or when he had let out that ethereal banshee wail... he was just sort of 'going with the flow' as far as that went... but this, this was something he couldn't muse away with jokes and a lighthearted demeanor. This was pure evil, permeating the air around them. It wasn't just evil, it was a source of evil.
Eldrin sighed and kicked a waterlogged stump. "So, uh, we gotta go in there, huh?"
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on Aug 17, 2016 22:31:30 GMT -6
Anaius paid little attention to his surroundings while he followed. His mind drifted absently to the adventure at hand. This would technically be his first real adventure with other people. Every other excursion he had been on he had done alone, and the thought of making acquaintances outside the orphanage excited him. Even though the group he started travelling with was utterly weird, this only made him more hopeful of fitting in. Anaius damn near tripped over Azrael as he knelt in the swamp, his knee bumping the poor monk's back as he released what seemed to be his last ten meals at the foot of a tree trunk ten feet away. He hardly noticed the deafening spiritual scream that echoed loudly throughout the swamp, not actually realizing that the scream was coming from Azrael. His nose recoiled from the smell and he turned his head away. It took a few deep breaths to fight down his own urge to vomit, but Anaius regained his composure just as Azrael sent out the Guidance Poe. The group slowly continued on and Anaius' thoughts began to wander once more. Only a few minutes after his mind began to show him great battles and triumphs, they came upon a massive, stark black pyramid. Suddenly, the urge to yak doubled back on him, harder and stronger than before. Immediately Anaius knew this urge to spill his stomach was initiated by the pyramid, and not from his earlier bout.
A terrible sense of wrong flooded over him and it took an actual effort of will to keep his feet where they stood. His face twisted in a disgusted expression and he asked, "What is this place..?"
No sooner had he asked the question did Azrael answer him.
A smile began to widen across his face.
"Birthplace of evil, huh...interesting."
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Kadina
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If you're bored then you're boring.
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Post by Kadina on Aug 19, 2016 11:58:19 GMT -6
As the rag-tag team stepped through the final veil of hanging moss, the air became denser and a bit quieter after a startled flock of river cranes flew away. Remaining in the clearing was an obsidian monument anchored in a swampy slush. It might have glistened were it a place of holy sanctity. Instead, the sloping black faces of the pyramid were matte with what Kadina would considered a dark sludge clinging like death to the exterior of evil's birthplace. Odd that a place like this existed here. The marsh, albeit infested with creepy-crawlies and multiple specimen of the blood-sucking sort, was actually quite vibrant and full of life. From the titian and pink swamp lilies and royal-purple butterflies to the colorful feathered plumes of the birds perched in the canopies, this ancient hospital was an eyesore in comparison to the beauty surrounding it, although spectacular in its own way. Looming in stark contrast from the world around it somehow made it inviting for the naturally curious. Intriguing. Truthfully, it looked more like a resting place than a birthplace. Like a giant sepulcher. This was the kind of crypt that treasure hunters and tomb-raiders like Kadina would be wise to avoid due to the likelihood of every untouched artifact being cursed. Nonetheless, she had grown up with enough tales of Dómaldur Dreagal[1] to put the adventure before the risk. Besides, her trapping expertise might be needed. "Right! Evil's birthplace... What's to fear?" She gave a nervous chuckle in response to Azrael. "I suppose it could be worse though, right? Could be evil's cafeteria where it feasts on the souls of the living." She made creepy hands at Anaius with a devilish smirk as though to frighten him. However, he had already been inside of the loony bandit's head seemingly unafraid, so there probably wasn't much else that could scare the man at this point. Trying her best to be optimistic, the gypsy stepped to the front of the group. Azrael was looking rougher by the minute, and though hospitals were her third least favorite place to be (followed by jail cells and AA meetings), she knew there wasn't much time. "Come on. Maybe it won't be as hot as Demise's ass-crack in there."[2] She smiled encouragingly back at the others before she took the first step forward... 1. Dómaldur Dreagal is a popular folktale about an adventurer. Essentially, it is the Indiana Jones of Hyrule lore. 2. The actual saying is "hot as Demise's mop" referring to the flames on his head, (Demise being an equivalent to Satan) but Kadina had to put her crass twist on it.
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Post by Rii/Thell on Aug 20, 2016 0:14:49 GMT -6
Birthplace of Evil... Ozzy could hear the low, ominous glissando she would play on her G string as she introduced the song, accompanied by the off-beat and equally off putting thunderous booms of her uncle as he slowly beat his drums. She'd let her drawn out note fade, lean towards the crowd and beg them hush that she might begin to paint a picture with words and notes alike. From there she'd-
"-evil's cafeteria where it feasts on the souls of the living."
Evil's cafeteria? What does she want us to step into, a comedy? Ozzy had not strapped her delicate fiddle to her back to brave the moist and heavy heat of the swamp to take part in a comedy. If that was what- Stop it, Ozzy. Can't be a heroine if you're too busy writing about being one. Which, to be fair, is a lot more appealing right now. Birthplace of Evil, for all its glorious and ominous ring, does make the whole thing feel a little... well, ominous. You know. In a less than desirable way. Her hazel eyes flickered to Azrael. Then again, he's not looking so good. Then her gaze slid around the rest of the crowd. Despite being beaten by a stick, Eldrin was choosing now to look wary of where he was, and Anaius... was smiling. Huh. Birthplace of Evil seemed to slick his wagon wheels.
"Why of course, sounds marvelous. How does one resist the hallowed hospital halls that gave birth to evil?"
Hallowed hospital halls... Could work with the right rhythm. Might make it a little more upbeat than- focus, Ozzy.
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Azrael/Iris
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A drunk monk who hates social events and worms
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Post by Azrael/Iris on Aug 26, 2016 18:18:58 GMT -6
"We can discuss the architectural designs later. Come on.."Azrael muttered before he started to climb the steps to the front entrance. The canopy of the swamp trees protected the forest floor below from the deadly rays. The pyramid itself was out in the open, to the elements. Yet, despite that, it showed no signs of erosion. Azrael was sweating heavily, his breathing started to sound more forced. But, he kept going. Knowing that if he fell, then the world would be doomed.
Making his way to the top, he leaned against the surprisingly cool walls of the pyramid for a brief second, long enough to catch his breath. Sweat poured down from his head and dripped onto the black stone floor. He took a large breath and pushed himself off of the wall and managed to stagger to find his balance. Unknown to him, his eyes flashed purple once more before returning to their normal shade of red. The desert monk started to walk into the pyramid, the sounds of his footsteps echoed loudly as he made his way into the entrance hall of the temple and he stopped.
The monk took a look around the entrance hall, it's build was similar to the Ikana Hideout. Four pillars stood in a square around the center where they stopped. The same black stone that made up the exterior also seemed to make up the interior of the building. Shivers could be sent down anyone's spine, whether or not it was from the cold atmosphere of the inside or the creepiness that the building seemed to give off.. none could tell.
"If any of you wish to leave. Now is the time to do so. I was not kidding when I said this place is the birthplace of evil. This pyramid is the birthplace and prison of Majora's Mask." Azrael's voice echoed through out the hall as he turned around to face his friends.
"If you so wish to stay and see my journey to it's completion... then I must warn you. You will see horrible things. Horrible visions. The stuff of nightmares." he paused for a moment, shifting his hood back up upon his head. "You may see visions of horrible moments in your past or glimpses into other worlds. But, keep in mind that it is an illusion. An aftereffect of Majora's insanity."
"Where we need to go is the very center of the temple's deep underground caverns. The visions will get worse the deeper we go. That will be the least of your concerns, I will start to develop different personalities. I may become depressed and hopeless, silly and giggly or even homicidal and angry... I will explain why when we are done here." Azrael's voice echoed loudly in the entrance hall, so much so a small green imp came around the corner with it's little claws over it's ears in apparent annoyance. Azrael glanced over and turned back to his friends, it was only an illusion after all.
"HEY! KEEP IT DOWN!" it yelled. Azrael ignored it again.
"Any questions? Oh... also do not steal anything if you like where your soul is." Azrael added, eyeing Kadina and his cousin.
HEY! ARE YOU DEAF?!" The imp yelled once more, angrily walking over to Azrael and looked up at him, it's little green hands on it's hips.
Azrael sighed before turning to look at the hallway ahead of them.
"Alright.. let's.. OW!" he grabbed his shin as the little imp huffed in annoyance.
"You... you kicked me?!" I thought..." Azrael stammered in disbelief and he made a grab for the imp and grabbed it by the scruff of it's neck.
"Yeah! I'm real! Not everything here is an illusion of Majora's insanity! The rent is reasonable and the spiders are delicious! Oh, the name's Ichi by the way."
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Eldrin/Vai
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Kaepora Gaebora
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Post by Eldrin/Vai on Oct 3, 2016 12:19:48 GMT -6
Majora's Insanity hit Eldrin hard as fuck. He had no idea where he was. In every direction all around him, there was only desert. Rocky sand covered the ground, and the only sparse vegetation was the occasional cactus or shrub. He wandered this desert until his throat was dry and raspy, and his mind delirious. It must have been days, or months that he walked. Until finally, he saw something utterly unfamiliar. A cavern opening gaped in front of him, with a sheet of flame covering the doorway. On instinct, perhaps a leftover from the days when fire did him no harm, the thief stepped up to it, and then straight through. He passed through the wall of fire as if it were naught but air. On the other side, there was no cavern. There was, in fact, nothing. A void stretched out all around him, nothing but blackness.
And then in an explosion of fire, a boy appeared before him. The boy stood a full foot shorter than Eldrin, but his presence dwarfed the thief. Gold bands adorned his wrists, ankles, and neck, appearing to be painfully tight, the way the skin bulged and veins popped around them. His skin was white as snow, painted all over with scarlet symbols and patterns of unknowable power. Across his chest, in the same scarlet paint, was the image of a great ifrit, birthed in demonfyre. His body radiated heat waves, distorting the air around him. He was bare chested, and wore a skirt of plated metal about his waist. The metal was gold plated, with red staining depicting a noble phoenix adorning the left side, whilst a fierce dragon dominated the right. His lower legs and feet were bare, yet clean.
He held a black spear, tipped with a cruel looking wavy blade, reminiscent of a frozen flame. Directly beneath the blade hung a red cloth, but not just any cloth. It waved and billowed, waned and waxed, and tiny bits emanated off of the main body, yet it never diminished entirely. It was a cloth with the properties of flame. The spear itself, was Eldrin's height, but the boy held it firm, and there was no questioning that he had full control over his weapon.
The boy's eyes were embers. Not red eyes, as Eldrin had, but literal fire. As if each eye socket were a hearth, they smoldered in orange embers, smoke lightly drifting from their source. His blood red lips parted, and the little boy's voice seemed out of place. It was the crackle and roar of fire, and at once the dry rasp of smoke. Black smoke drifted from the boy's nostrils, and an orange light seemed to be shining from the back of his throat. "Step forth, child of flame, and be judged."
Eldrin did as he was bade, but could hardly resist a sly comment. "Damn, I ain't never tripped this hard. Az was right, Temple crazy is some next level shit." Even his voice seemed a distant echo in this odd place.
And then he was on fire.
The boy never moved, never even responded. It was not his fire that burned the thief. Eldrin's chest glowed bright orange suddenly, and then immediately burst with flames. The thief went up like a match. It was no ordinary flame. It was the heat of a thousand suns, each concentrated into every cell of his body. He was on fire inside and out. He screamed until his vocal cords tore and blood filled his throat. He was rolling on the floor, tearing the melting skin from his cheeks with his fingernails. He felt his eyeballs melt inside his skull and run down his crackling face. The blood in his veins and the flesh of his guts literally boiled. Then it stopped.
He was no longer on fire, he was in fact, untouched. He was standing there, before this boy, as if nothing had happened. He touched his face frantically, and patted his body. Yet his search revealed not even an ember, nor even the slightest bit of burnt flesh.
The boy did not bother to comment, in fact he did not even acknowledge anything had happened. He did not need to. The message had been recieved. He just continued where he had left off. "I am a spirit of the true fire, of that which burns eternal within the aether, that which is tended to by gods."
Eldrin did not answer. Fear racked his body, and he trembled all over. His mouth was oddly dry.
"You are to be judged for the forfeiture of the gift."
"My... powers? They were not forfeit. They were stolen... by a crazy guy called Calamity. He blackmailed a friend into betraying me!" Eldrin felt his chest grow warm, and a faint glow rose from beneath his tunic. Yet, he carried on. The fire spirit had struck a nerve when he devalued Epiny's sacrifice and Eldrin's loss. He held up his wrist, showing clearly the charm bracelet he wore, defiance in his eyes. "She fucking died for it! My best friend has to live with the fact that she killed Epiny... which she is still hunted for, to this day! And yes, I had my powers taken away... but I would have given them willingly to save my friend's life."
He paid for his outburst with another small eternity of flame. His screams echoed hollow in the void that surrounded them. When it had passed, he stood panting for a few minutes, trying to keep his mind from slipping into shock. "I care not for your excuses, nor for the death of a mortal," the boy responded, his voice a cold fire. "You knew the extent of your gift. You could have killed them all, you could have defended yourself... you could have saved your gift."
"If I had released that kind of power, everyone in that room, all of my enemies, and all of my friends, would have died. I would have blown a chunk out of the mountain. I refuse to use my 'gift' for that sort of carnage," The thief muttered feebly. His eyes were unfocused, and he could barely think straight. The pain of the fire seemed to toy at his nerves like a ghost. He felt the heat growing in his chest again. This was no trial, it was a sentencing.
The fire came, but Eldrin had no intention of letting it happen again. It burst from his chest, but something awakened within the thief. He caught the fire in mid-air, and held it away from his body. It was difficult, like using an atrophied muscle, but he surprised himself with the amount of control he could still exhibit. That was when he realized... his fire had not left him, it had been forgotten. The trauma of Epiny's death must have suppressed it. He was still a master of his art. His confidence flared, and his eyes became fierce, predatory. "You can't burn me, boy," he growled, his own voice crackling fiercely with the flame of his body. "I am still the Prodigal Son of Fire. You may be a spirit of flame, but I am the God." Somewhere in the distance he could hear chanting, the same fiery voices that the boy spoke with, but it was like a choir. He couldn't understand what they said, but he knew it was somehow empowering him.
The spirit smiled wolfishly. It was the first hint of emotion he had shown. "Fire can not harm me, any more than it can harm you, child."
"Do you hear that? It is the Mantra of Flame. It is my fellow Fire Spirits singing your gift to life. I will not deny that you are prodigal in your gift... but do not think yourself better than us. We are the source of your power. Our Mantra allows you to tap into the True Flame."
Eldrin channelled the fireball into a stream, and allowed it to pour down his mouth. He gave a loud belch of black smoke and he smiled. "In that case, I guess I owe you thanks."
The spirit's smile faded, and he tilted his head as if he were listening to a voice far off. "We have made a decision. In light of you reawakening your gift, you may be forgiven. Yet, a crime was still committed. You will be allowed a great honor." the boy explained, his voice almost kind. "You have been allotted a trial by combat. You shall fight me. Defeat me, and gain the right to use your gift... or die."
The thief flashed a dastardly smirk. "That I understand. Let's do this then." He raised his fists, and covered them in fire. "Come at me, bro."
The boy moved with inhuman speed. He whipped the spear in a vicious arc, leaving the thief's neck in its path. Eldrin shifted his weight back barely, tilting his head slightly, so that the blade merely skimmed his flesh. He lurched his head forward as soon as it was clear, spitting fire from the base of his throat. The fire caught the boy in the face at a temperature that would have melted a normal man's face. The boy merely took two steps back from the force of it. But Eldrin wasn't done. He shot his hand out at the blade of the spear. Heat waves shot out of his hand, ripping the air around it. The metal of the blade sloshed off, leaving a molten puddle where the weapon had been. Eldrin grinned. He wasn't really sure that was going to work. He had figured it might be some sort of spirit weapon, immune to heat. Apparently not.
The boy didn't miss a beat. He came back with the handle of the spear, shifting his stance to that of a quarter-staff fighter. Eldrin had no intention of allowing him an advantage. He punched at the air with his flaming fists, sending a rapid volley of fireballs screeching through the air between them. The spirit whirled his staff into a blur in front of his body, deflecting the majority of the fireballs, though the first few struck him in the chest. The thief followed up with a fiery roar, releasing a spew of fire into the boy's face. The spirit took it full on in the face without even flinching. He walked slowly forward, pushing through the considerable force of Eldrin's dragonbreath. When he was close enough, he slammed his staff into the thief's diaphragm, ceasing the flames with pain. Eldrin gasped for a second too long, and the boy came up for another blow. Eldrin snorted, flames shooting from his nose, and forcing the boy's head back down. He pressed his advantage, catching the spirit's chin with a savage uppercut. The boy reeled up, but brought his staff up as he did. The staff struck Eldrin squarely across the temple. For a moment, the world spun, and little lights bloomed in the theif's vision. This was all the time the spirit needed. He pummeled Eldrin savagely, snapping several ribs and knocking several teeth out.
Eldrin caught the staff just as he'd caught Kadina's stick earlier. "Had enough of that today, thank you," he growled, blood dribbling from his smile. He twisted the staff out of the spirit's grip. The boy shifted his stance again, clearly preparing to defend against the staff's blows... but that wasn't Eldrin's plan at all. Eldrin thrust the staff forward, end first. A small explosion tore the air on the other end of the staff, propelling it forward. The staff moved with a velocity the spirit had hardly been expecting.
The spirit stumbled back, looking down at his chest. Eldrin almost felt bad, seeing a little boy impaled on the staff. The explosion had propelled it straight through the boy's chest cavity, and now the other end was protruding from his back.
The spirit smiled, as his flesh began to light all over with tiny embers. "Congratulations child of fire... you truly are a prodigy. The honor of our gift is returned to you... We shall sing our Mantra for you, and your enemies will be ash."
Eldrin almost responded, but before the words could come out, the spirit burst into flames and was gone. The void was gone as well. He was standing again in the rocky sands of the desert canyon.
Somewhere in the real world, Eldrin's physical body lie naked on the stone floor of some side hallway of the temple, in the ashes of his clothing. The stone around him had melted into mush, leaving his impression pressed into the floor.
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