The Grass is Greener

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The Grass is Greener

Post  admin_jared on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:51 am

INDUSTRIAL WAREHOUSE
LOS ANGELES, ALTERNATE REALITY.


In the wake of a powerful maelstrom of ancient magic, the newfound Arcanists found themselves deposited in a dimly lit expanse. Strewn as far as they could manage were all-soft of thing, from overturned forklifts and hydraulic equipment clustered in mounds nearest the furthermost left wall, to dust covered shelving to the right. What little light that was offered came from half a dozen hanging lights some twenty or so foot above them. The lights did little more then remove the absolution of nothingness with their constant sporadic flickering and humming that suggested a massive inconsistency in the power grid of the building. What could be seen however was graffiti covered walls that, if not spray-painted, was missing large chunks of concrete. Exposing the rotting skeleton of the once bustling warehouse. If the Arcanists moved, they shuffled through inches of settle dust and trash but the cleanliness of the building should not have been their main concern because; unfortunately, there were by no means alone.

At first the sounds were subtle. The sound of a tin can clattering as it fall from the summit of mounded garbage or the scuttle of something just beyond the reaches of light. Then, just as suddenly as their arrival there was an eerie, ear splitting noise to their right, and standing at the border of shadow, stood an ominous creature. Through gently grinning jaws, row upon row of teeth, sharpened to ungodly jagged points and stained a horrid shade of yellow from vast amounts of blood letting, exposed themselves. From the beasts oddly misshapen brow stared out twin orbs of the purest white that regarded the group as a welcomed surprise. In response to it's shriek, in the distance the group witnessed countless shimmering bodies rushing beneath the failing lights towards them.

admin_jared
Admin
Admin

Domain : Admin

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Alex Sorschal on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:46 pm

(Alex continues from here.)
'Bad Trip'
Industrial Warehouse
Los Angeles Alternate Reality


You know what they say about those awful moments in life? That time seems to slow down to near eternity? It isn't true. The reality is time stays constant, but the amount of observations, thoughts, and even actions simply fit into a smaller space. Reflexes kicked in and pumped chemicals into the brain, forcing action over reaction. Such a delicate process, this process allowed Alex to regard the light with a mixture of horror, disbelief, tensed every muscle in his body. He thought, in fits and starts, that it turns out Eve may in fact be very right about the nature of the next few seconds. It after all, had to be a dream, right? His mind rebelled against surging light, a thing that seemed alive and feral, spiraling and twisting and coming for them. And while his conscious mind drank in the irony, his body decided to act. Unfortunately, the body was stupid.

His gut reaction was to somehow shield the girl--which was either incredibly noble or unbelieveably stupid. His voice raised an octave and he took one diving step in front of her, meaning to say something like 'get down! Get behind me! Look out!' but only managing to choke out "Whoawhoawhoawhoa!" All in all, he would have looked quite dashing--if it was going for her first. As it happened, the surging light struck him first. That was when things got scary when his senses betrayed him. He was tumbling, spinning, his eyes were a riot of color and his ears rang with sounds that were simply not possible to be made, high pitched and low pitched and rumbling through his body. It lasted an instant that felt like an eternity, before the penthouse and the talk with the cute little shy girl was replaced by something out of a horror film. Disorientaition and nasuea hit like massive waves against his senses, and momentum carried him forward. He found himself tumbling, striking something hard right above his brow, gossmer threads tickling feather-light against his face and through his hair. There was a loud series of crashes that followed, and the rest of him landed on a variety of textures--wet and mushy, papery and solid.

Alex's visions filled with spots, and he blinked, hard several times. Bits and pieces of reality asserted himself. He was somewhere dark, in what qualified in the wrong part of town. The object he struck had been a a metal shelf, broken and hanging at a dangerous angle which he had banged headfirst into when his 'heroic lunge' finished. The riot of sounds was from an overturned trashcan... Which he was currently laying in. And there were cobwebs in his hair. and possibly others. The last realization was the final straw, the spots giving way to adrenaline fueled fear.

"SPIDERINMYHAIRSPIDERSINMYHAIRSPIDERSINMYHAIR!" Alex made a very undignified screaming sound and bolted upright out of the rotting heap, frantically running fingers through his hair and face, an utterly spastic dance somehow intended to rid him of any wayward hitchikers, though an observer couldn't be blamed for thinking that the trip had shattered his poor little brain completly. He paused, in mid-dance, to the sound of falling tin. Blinking once or twice. Then another sound. He called out, tenatively. "Hello? " He turned, this way and that, to follow the echo of the sound, until the faint sound gave way to an ear-piercing shriek, and inhuman thing that sounded like all the worst things in life, nails on chalkboard tuned through a loudspeaker. It curled foetid lips and sneered with vicious teeth. He could not process the entire picture, only impressions of the thing.

People handled fear differently too. Some people shrieked, and often. Some jolted. Alex, upon staring at the thing, locked up. Every single bone in his body set, every muscle tightened against his limbs, his mouth hanging open to loose a sound--any sound--but all he could managed was a choked cry, halfway between a laugh and a bitter sob. He saw other lights in the periphery of his vision--but could not, would not, take his eyes off the monster.

His mind did not speak in sentences, too hard in fight or flight response and too short-circuited to even pick up on that right away. The creature could catch him in two strides. All it could communicate that Alex was going to die, and it screamed it with every fiber of his being. He was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Alex Sorschal
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Afton Kroman on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:49 pm

(Afton continues from here.)

-Industrial Warehouse-
-Alternate Reality-
No sooner had he stepped from that elevator had everything gone horribly wrong. In the deepest reaches of that ireful Russian's barrel chest a breath had been drawn and released. No matter the way it was spoken, all accounts pointed to Gavin and just before he would gain sight of the man he now claimed enemy, he was enveloped in powers akin to his own. Jostled, flipped and otherwise disoriented, the necromantic disciple found himself lacking solid floor once his equilibrium returned to him. Plummeting from the ceiling, and after minor correction Afton landed atop a thick steel machine heavily, sending a resounding *CLANG!* through-out the warehouse. Hitting half crouched his hand touched lightly upon the surface of the machine before his momentum carried him forward and off the breif eight foot perch.

The dark silhouette stood as placid as a statue amidst the eerie shapes beneath the faint shedding of light from above. Void of emotional bourdon, a perpetual scowl rested upon an ireful visage, each facet of flesh visible of that immense males face seethed disdain, a lowered brow gave from beneath it's inverted vault a harsh glare, ferociously intense and visibly suggesting that the Russian would enjoy nothing more then to watch the whole world turn to ash. Eyes that purged violet energy from solid blackness engaged themselves upon the beast ahead as the scowl cracked into something a bit more intimidating, an all knowing and perhaps overly confident smirk. Whether or not he died, he was certainly going to enjoy it, A brief scan with the tip of his boot exposed a length of heavy gauge chain. With out breaking his gaze from the Kreelock, he'd scoop it from the rubble and entwine it about his fists in tediously slow coils.

Afton Kroman
Arcane Archon
Arcane Archon

Domain : Necromancy

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Lucas Emmerson on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:50 pm

(Lucas continues from here.)
It was so horribly undignified. One minute he was pacing in the posh penthouse in L.A., the next he was screaming obscenities and flinging an arm up over his eyes to block the light. Stupid move! In sports the rule was always to keep your eye on the ball; but now it should be K-5 field trip rules, keep your eye on the teacher and don’t go off without a buddy! He thought he was going to vomit but no sooner had the urge come upon him; Luc was being sucked into another time or place. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t prepared for the trip and ended up landing back-flop style on the roof of a fork lift.

Pain. That was the first thing that made him realize he wasn’t dreaming. Soon after; he processed the cloud of dust, the musty air, and the noises. Someone had a spider in their hair, something inhuman was pissed off, and that something was getting closer. Lucas was unsure about a lot of things, but he had no doubts this was a very bad thing.
Metal popped, dust billowed and philanthropist groaned as he sat up. Luckily he still had some sense about him to know height was an advantage. Wasn’t that how to get away from a bear? Climb a tree? Kreelock, bear, boogy man, what did it matter? Survival was the name of the game! Rolling to all fours on his perch, Lucas gave a shout to any that might have come through this mess with him.

“HEY!! “ Wow, that sounded more stressed and less manly than he would have hoped, but he was going to blame it on the dust settling in his lungs! “Can someone NOT wanting me dead shout back?!”

It was worth a shot, right? Frantic for speed over finesse, Luc scrambled from that crouch to stand, trying to get a bird’s eye view to see who was closest. His tux was shot to hell, was hoping that crawling sensation along his back was just the heebee jeebee’s, and he was pretty sure the headache behind his eyes couldn’t be cured with Tylenol and…what.. The…hell? Kreelock? It was approaching a lot faster than he would have liked at that moment and he forgot to make mental excuses as he yelled out.

“Screw it, can someone just tell me how to kill one of these things!? Anybody>!?!”

Lucas Emmerson
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Enchantment

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Eve Cassidy on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:51 pm

(Eve continues from here.)
Industrial Warehouse
Alternate Reality

Since Eve came to the Penthouse she was starting to have some fun. She was no longer just sitting in a chair trying to make sense of everything around her and was now having a conversation with a pretty handsome guy. The only bad thing about it was Eve tended to be very shy around these kinds of guys. However her fun was quickly ruined by a bright light.

Out of the corner of her eye, Eve notice a light brighter than the rest in the room and turning to face it she saw it was growing bigger and bigger. The light was heading straight for her and Alex and everyone else in the room. She wanted to run away but her legs would not budge and Eve watched as Alex made a leap in front of her trying to protect her from the growing bright light. She watched with horror as it consumed Alex’s body and continued on towards her. Eve threw her arms in front of her face but knew it would do little to protect her. Eve wanted to scream but her voice failed her leaving her sitting there, mouth open, as the light consumed her too. She was unable to see what was happening around her because of the blinding light so she had to rely on her senses which at the moment were telling her that she was falling. This was when Eve finally managed to scream out in terror. The only thought racing through her mind was this must be the danger that the note spoke of. She was soon going to die and that Alex must be dead already.

However her death did not happen, and instead, Eve landed hard on the ground. Upon impact she hit her head hard off of the ground and she blacked out for a few seconds. When Eve came around again her surroundings seemed out of focus and blurry; Eve just hoped that she didn’t give herself a concussion in the fall. Pain shot through her head and placing her hand in the area where it hurt she felt something warm and wet. Her headache from before became much worse. As Eve was trying to make out her surroundings she heard someone scream about spiders being in their hair. Eve recognized it as Alex’s voice. Eve climbed to her feet and made her way towards his direction while saying in a panicked voice “Alex, what happened? Where are we?” When Eve found Alex she saw something standing right in front of him that sent shivers down her spine.

Eve had never seen anything like it before but she was certain it was the Kreelock that everyone was talking about in the Penthouse and at the moment it appeared to be glaring down at Alex who seemed frozen in the spot. Eve didn’t spend much time looking at the beast for she had to save Alex.

“Alex!” Eve screamed as she rushed over to him. She grabbed his arm and tugged, he had to start running before the monster ate him. “Alex we have to run” Eve said.

Eve Cassidy
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Abjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Alex Sorschal on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:52 pm

When in Deadly Danger...
Alternate Reality Industrial Warehouse


Death. Alex had never thought about actually dying in his entire life, at least not for a few seconds, and usually he never got farther then the violent little shiver that ran down the course of his spine. Now that death seemed immiment--death of the variety that involved horrible gnashing teeth and very likely some unpleasant crunching sounds, Alex couldn't help but think of all the things he was going to miss before he died. The end of his friends D&D campaign, for example, and how they might replace him. All the movies he wasn't going to get to see, and generally all amount of trivial things that he had taken for granted. Nope, instead he was going to get eaten by something that looked like it had marched out of Mordor, or maybe a Lovecraftian representation of poor people. He also realized that his last thoughts were almost comopletly embarassing and was glad that nobody would actually know them.

"Alex!" A little voice called, distant and tinny, scarcely heard over the creatures ragged breathing. By god, let it be quick. If they he was going to go through this level of horror, at least he was owed that. "Alex, we have to run!" , the voice in his head insisted. Come to think of it, why did his little voice sound female? Was his own mind subconsciously emasculating him? What a way to go--there was a tug on his arm. Just like that, reality re-asserted itself. He whipped his head to the side and there was Eve, desperation and some terrible, animal fear in her eyes. Sense reasserted himself. Run.

Alex blinked once, hard and gripped her arm, vice-like from fear and adrenaline, and made good on her suggestion. He called out. "Go-go-go-go!" and pulled her sharply in the other direction, bolting from the creature as fast as his legs could carry him--which would have given a sprinter pause, but then again nobody's ever seen a sprinter being chased by a oversized gorilla with a mouth full of steak knives bearing down on them. He heard the creature shriek again--that ear-splitting, inhuman scream, as the massive thing broke into a loping run to give them both chase.

Alex was fast and scared out of his wits, but he was longer-legged than Eve, and the simple fact the two were traveling together inevitably slowed them down a little. He didn't trust winning a footrace against something like that, and so he bolted down the first turn he could drive, pulling the girl shortly after him. It was one of those instinctual prey-driven responses when running from something bigger and heavy--he doubted it could turn on a dime, and he was rewarded with the sound of crashing as the thing slammed into one of the heavy machine-units, rattling chains and other odds and ends before tearing after them. His mind raced. Run, where? which way is out? Hide, where? Where is it safe. What the hell is that, where the hell am I? " . He heard more shrieks, and another voice, all too human.

"Anyone know how to kill one these things!?" a voice sounded, alarm. Masculine. Above him. Why were they all here? What the hell was happening? Besides, they were unarmed... and...

A moment of clarity struck Alex in mid run as the two passed row of racks containing tools of all sorts. He heard the thing pounding after them, but reversed direction briefly all the same, half-halting his 'savior' so he could snag what caught his eye off the rack--a rusted looking but extremely heavy duty wrench. It seemed almost ludicrious, but he wasn't just going to take it lying down. It allowed the creature to gain ground, which set Alex into a dead run again, dragging Eve along all the while. Well, at least he had taken care of the unarmed part. He had no intention of trying to fight his way out of this... but some tiny, rational part of his brain still functioning had to wonder... how long could he run?

Alex Sorschal
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Brayden Abrams on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:53 pm

[ one fell off and bumped his head ]
ALTERNATE REALITY — THE WAREHOUSE

As those elevator doors opened, relief washed over the Evoker’s body. He and the tagalongs were back safe and sound in the confines of the penthouse—if the chaos that ran rampant inside could be called that. By the looks of things, their arrival had been moments too late, as they had missed the departure of the entire Eldritch clan. Had he had time to think about it, Brayden would’ve possibly dismissed their departure as Logan concocting some excuse to hightail it before Lorelei scolded him any further than she might have after he had fled the place to rescue the Essentian. There was really no telling what had gone on after he and the Necromancer had departed, but upon their reentry into the home, Brayden guessed whatever had, it wasn’t as bad as what was currently going on. He had barely opened the door and walked in before a great, heated light had coiled around his body, enveloping him in a burning sensation that seemed to course throughout his entire being.

The tightening light covered his eyes, pressing an overwhelming darkness into his sight; when his mouth opened to yell, the ribbon-like beam devoured his speech, slithered around him and gripped like a deadly cocoon. In that instant, he was pulled from the living room inhabitants as well as the very person he had just rescued from the detention center—once again, he was separated from the soul he had thought to have died long ago. The universe was a cruel entity, one that seemingly offered a lifetime of no breaks for the Arcanist. As he withered from his reality’s existence, he cursed the very magic that constricted him against his will; he may not have been around the Conjurer at all over the past two years, but the familiarity of Gavin’s magic tasted just as it had when they trained together. The question was, why had he suddenly turned against him? Or better yet: where the hell was he being teleported?

The light that swept him off of his feet—literally—gave little illumination to the dark area Brayden found himself materializing in. Luck did not play on his team that day; as his body formed in the new space, the cool rush of air flooded his ears as he plunged downwards into the depths of darkness. The cool, hard surface of the crane he landed on made a resonating echo throughout the empty space of the warehouse, and a slightly quieter thump followed after Brayden hit an empty barrel on his continuing journey down. The thud of his body belly flopping onto the concrete floor went reasonably unheard, perhaps covered by the long, aching groan slipping past the Evoker’s lips. No, today, luck was definitely not on his side.

Palms pressed down against the dusty floor, strength being used to push himself up and off of the ground. He shook his head, dust scattering from black locks, and spread by a corresponding sneeze from the shake-up. If his headache from earlier had started to fade, it was back tenfold now. One arm snaked around his back to press just above his bottom, rubbing the spot where he had collided with the edge of the barrel. Where exactly had Gavin sent him? The darkness offered little luminescence, and his eyes had yet to adjust to his surroundings. Whatever situation he was now in, he was basically a sitting duck. One voice pierced through the air; a male voice cloaked with fright as they shouted about the arachnids infesting their hair. The thought sent a shiver down his spine; he wasn’t a fan of spiders either.

After that, many other voices made themselves known, along with the existence of several creatures charging throughout their new location. The thundering of their footsteps was hard to miss, and luckily his sight was starting to correctly adjust. Without making any more sounds, he quickly looked about him, spotting a steel object lying not too far away. Hastily grabbing hold of the long crowbar, the Evoker searched for the other Arcanists stationed around the place. Eyes first caught glimpse of two running from one of the beasts, turning the corner just in time for the creature to collide with the wall. Afton’s body was hidden behind shadows, though he had managed to catch the sound of chains being picked up from where the Necromancer stood.

It was the sight of the brunette female he had shared most of his life with that had the familiar smile tugging at the corners of his lips. If he were put into this battle with no other at his side but her, he would have felt little fear. The two’s past years had been nothing but fights for their lives, but now they had an advantage that even the fresh meat shared—the mana that ran through their veins, warm and ready to be used. Making his way to her side, weapon in hand, he nodded towards the Enchantress before eyeing the warriors in front of them.

“I bet the screamer wets himself before you can make your first kill. Ten bucks.”

The twisted games they enjoyed were perhaps not as fun for the others, but for Brayden, it was all in good fun.

Brayden Abrams
Arcane Archon
Arcane Archon

Domain : Evocation

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Lucas Emmerson on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:54 pm

-Ah fork it!-
Alternate Reality - Warehouse



“Shit. Shitshitshit!”

At the moment, that’s all he could spit out. He couldn’t see much, but he could hear another voice, more Uglies, and running. At least they had sense enough to run! But what about himself? Nope, he wasn’t inclined to get down on the ground just yet. Hanging onto the roof of the forklift, Lucas tumbled into the cab and dropped into the seat.

Despite having the do-gooder persona of philanthropist and ‘world saver’ inclination, he was quickly trying to hot wire the fork lift with a bit of LA ingenuity he picked up in his teen years. Sweat beaded on his forehead, hands shaking slightly trying to recall if there was anything mentioned in the penthouse in how to kill the beasts wanting their blood. Because frankly, he was rather fond of keeping his blood at its natural flow; within his body!

For an instant, Lucas had hope. There was a sputter and spark and the fork lift sputtered to life. “YES!” And then it died, a coughing squealing puff of junk that let him know right off that any fluids that once kept the machine running, had now turned to dust. Why did it seem so simple in the movies? Luc really didn’t have time to figure out his other options, there was only fight or run, and he was pretty certain that running would only make him tired, but no less dead. Still, he was not delusional enough to think he could take them on without some sort of weapon!

Flicking his gaze to the oncoming Kreelock, entirely too close for comfort, now able to see those teeth and the sheer size of it more astutely. Scrambling out the other side of the forklift and climbing onto the roof, Lucas went machine jumping to put a little more distance between himself and the beast. Each landing had metal popping and dust flying, but ultimately brought him to a wall and shelving.

Sifting through layers of dust and grime, Lucas grabbed anything that looked useful. Crowbar, hammer, screwdriver, pocket full of bolts and screws. Pockets filled, he slid the screwdriver in his waistband, the hammer and crowbar kept in hand. He looked like James Bond and Bob the Builder had a tawdry relationship gone horribly wrong. Bracing himself for the fight ahead, Luc climbed down and leapt off the machinery to the floor. Hoping to evade the Kreelocks until he could find the others, Luc weaved in and out of the shelving and debris heading toward the others and trying to keep an eye out for anything remotely human in this mess.
[right]

Lucas Emmerson
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Enchantment

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Eve Cassidy on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:55 pm

Industrial Warehouse
Alternate Reality

Eve took a quick glance at the beast as she was tugging on Alex’s arm but was unable to see much detail of the Kreelock. The room was dark and hindered her vision allowing her to just see its outline. All Eve knew was that it was tall, it was big, it was staring at them and it wanted them dead. Even though there wasn’t much to see of the giant monster fear still struck Eve and she felt glued to the spot. The monster was heading straight for them and Eve knew this was the end. No matter how hard she tried, Eve knew she would not be able to outrun it. Just when Eve thought they were going to be snatched up Alex came seemed to come back to his senses. Eve, however, was now frozen in fear staring at the Kreelock. Before she knew what was happening around her Alex grabbed her arm tight grip and started to run while yelling for her to go. Eve was barely heard him as she was jerked back into reality and without thinking she started to scurry with him.

As they dashed away from the thundering beast behind them, Eve tried to stretch her legs as far as she could hoping to not slow them down. No matter how fast she ran Eve was certain that the Kreelock would be gaining distance with every step they could. Alex would have a far better chance of outrunning the monster than she did. Unless it was killed, however, chances of anyone running away from it were scarce. Sooner or later they would have to face the beast or else hope that someone would come to their aid, Eve was hoping someone would be showing up to play the super hero. She was certain she could not take on the beast; it was far stronger and taller than her. Just as she thought she felt the beast’s breath upon her neck Alex took a quick turn and Eve followed closely behind. There was a loud crash behind her but Eve did not dare to look back. She was certain the Kreelock crashed into something and because of Alex’s quick thinking him and Eve were gaining some distance between the them and the monster but she was certain the beast would be able to catch up.

As they continued running through the dark building Eve felt Alex tug on her arm as he reversed direction. She was about to ask Alex why he was stopping but soon found why, right in front of him a rusted wrench, Eve guessed he was planning on using it as a weapon. As he snatched up the tool Eve couldn’t help but look behind her and saw with horror that the Kreelock was gaining distance quickly. Another tug on her arm indicated that Alex was ready to go, Eve stumbled a little but managed to stay on her feet as they dashed through the building trying to get away from the Kreelock. How much longer could she run? Eve was unsure and even at that moment her lungs and legs started to burn from exertion.

Eve Cassidy
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Abjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Alex Sorschal on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:56 pm

'A Really Stupid Plan: The New Guys' First Blood'
Industrial Warehouse, Alternate reality.


Alex had made several observations while in flight, none of which he could define as useless. That the warehouse didn't look like it had been used in decades--the machinery long since rusted into uselessness, cobwebs decorating every corner, nook and cranny. He had picked out individual sounds--panicked screams, the guttral growl of an engine, which might have given him some faint hope for all of the two seconds it took to sputter and die, and one admittedly disheartening fact. The two of them, running together like this were going to get each other killed. He risked one quick look over his shoulder and regretted it within seconds, the massive bulk of the otherworldy beast gaining. There was a bend in the long corridor they'd chosen to run behind, but he doubted that it would fall for that trick again. Worse, both Eve and Alex would inevitably have to slow down to take it, and they didn't have that kind of time. His mind gibbered. 'I'm going to die' a little voice screamed. 'It's going to rip me limb from limb, and then it's going to start in on the girl and you know what? I didn't even get a phone number out of it. I went ahead and took the advice of a weird note and now I'm going to die for it.' A fresh surge of adrenaline followed with it--his bodies way of telling him it didn't care for this revelation. Sense returned to him in small measures. He couldn't outrun it--and he didn't want to die on the run.

Alex rounded the corner with Eve in tow right as he expected, but he took a very large shot in the dark. The creature seemed damned intent on running them down, and was clearly enjoying the chase. Praying that he could actually follow a totally inhuman thing's logic and not end up a greasy stain, Alex pushed himself flush against the wall and pushed Eve hard in the direction of the new corridor--no sense seeing her splattered, shouting urgently. "Go! Run, run, run!" his body went rigid, and he clutched the heavy wrench like some sort of ward or evil--or a teddy bear, depending on your perspective.

Thud, thud, thud. The creature's footsteps went. He could hear it's ragged breathing, the reckless joy of a predator that knew when a kill was to be made. Just like he predicted, the thing slowed before rounding the corner, following right in step. He counted down, mentally. Thud. 1. Thud. 2. Thud. 3.

*CLANGGGGG* Like a major league baseball player with reckless abandon, he swung the wrench as hard as he could, and by the sheer luck of whatever-the-hell there was in the universe, it connected solidly with the creature's jaw. The creature's forward momentum shot it's lower body out forward and swept it's legs right out from under it, hitting the ground with a wicked crack of an entirely-too-thick skull on the pavement. The creature roared in pain. Instinct took over, and fight became flight. He hefted the too-heavy wrench up over his head, and swung as hard as he could for the creature's skull, releasing another sickening crunch, with so much force that the wrench actually nearly bounced into Alex's face, twisting his wrists and sending a spike of pain through each of them. What the hell was this thing's skull even made out of? The creature, it's face little more than a pulpy mass, let out one choked sound and went slack, unconscious or possibly dead.

Alex, his wrists both aching terribly, his heart beating wildly in his chest, struggling to control his breath, stared for a good, long while. Despite himself, he laughed, a mixture of sheer relief and triumph. He rose his wrench and arm victoriously. He'd actually killed it!? He passed a look in Eve's direction, almost chilidshly exhuberant. It all but screamed. 'did you see that?'

And then... suddenly the wrench wasn't in his hand anymore, yanked right out of it by something above. His vision trailed, slow but sure, at yet another one of those things, crouched at the top of the shelves, leering at at the newfound prey with a sort of rictus grin, it's eyes burning with a mixture of malice and glee.

The victorious smile died, in measures. As did all the relief, and the victory. Alex was pretty sure he was the next on the list to end up that way.

Alex Sorschal
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Afton Kroman on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:58 pm

-Industrial Wearhouse-

The screams of those new arcanists played through afton's mind like sweet poetry, but enough was after all enough. Having gained the attention of his own nightmarish creature, Afton issued a soft, reverberating undergrowl as it vaulted over obstacles with the stylish grace of an urban free-runner, gnashing jaws clashed razor honed daggers in wild anticipation. The Necromancer however was not so easily startled, and even less easily frightened as he allowed the beast to grow near. Then in the last possible moment, the immovible Russian's lip twitched in sheer, causing the Shadows that surrounded him to expand as if he'd manifested massive demonic wings blacker then the pitch of night. Not a nano second before that frothing kreelock was to crash into Afton, those shadowy flights curled inward and embraced him; Simultaneously, transporting him out of harms way. Leaving the monstrous creature to pass through the shadows Afton once inhabited and impale itself on a large pole that had been hidden behind its intended target.

Somewhere off in the distance, the loud resonating toll of a church bell distorted the silence and brought an eerie addition to the already altered scope of reality. But for those fearing for their lives, something as hauntingly breathtaking as this would go unappreciated. That powerful Russian basked in the intimacy of the bell even as he moved through the shadow, effectively transported from one location to another. The absolution of nothingness, of death and life embraced him with a lovers caress while obeying his whelm, which now rested in actually helping protect the newborn arcanists. Alex proved himself lucky indeed with the crack shot that led to the downfall of the first kreelock, but it was all to obvious it was a fluke and contained nothing reasonably strategic as the second beast relieved the infantile Conjurer of his makeshift weapon. From his place within the floating shadows Afton descended as the creature poised itself to drop upon Alex.

To Alex, it seemed that behind the beast he gazed up at, the shadows stirred and twisted themselves into odd shapes before two chain wrapped arms manifested just as the kreelock lunged forward, jaws agape and claws extended. Those arms shed each one coil of chain and with a quick motion sent a loop of that heavy chain over the creatures head. Before the beast had a moment to react, the chain notched around it's throat and drew taught as the brawny arms that controlled those rusting links snapped back, cinching the noose. Just as he'd vanished, those shadows parted as great wings, each to a side of him. Controlling the thrashing Kreelock that both franticly grasped at the chain around it's throat and snarled, Afton positioned his right leg for support as those bulking arms curled back, straining to heave the beast back. With a harsh grunt and a rush of adrenaline, the kreelocks feet left the surface it stood as the necromancer drew that chain even tighter, using the weight of the beast to quicken it's strangulation.

The coalescence of sheer brute strength and ancient magics upheld the necromancer pride. As if to punctuate this the Russian's arms emitted a cracking violet energy that spiraled around those sinewy limbs and continued through the heavy chain until reaching the Kreelock. As the energy surrounded the kreelock's throat, the horrible, thrashing creature released, or tried to, a horribly pained shriek, and as soon as the beasts jaws parted, the energy sunk into it's eyes and throat. As the creature began kicking and clawing with feral severity, it's eyes plummeted into their fleshy holes and the flesh of the creature lost it's former luster and seemed as brittle as paper. Within seconds, the kreelock appeared nothing more then a lifeless husk. The chain around it's throat snapped it's loop straight as through the growlingly fragile neck gave under the strain causing head and body alike to hit the floor before Alex to which it exploded into a thick ashen cloud.

Releasing the coil of chain from one hand, he'd wrap it around the other as he dropped from the shelving, landing solidly where the kreelock would have. Reaching out the Russian would shove Alex in the direction Eve would be and growl while following in no apparent rush.. "Use Power.." This being the first time he'd used his distorted version of bad English in relation to anyone other then Brayden or Adelina. His Voice was course and deep, laced thickly with accent.. Deep golden eyes regarded the infant Conjurer indifferently as he moved toward Eve, and Afton lifted his head a fraction as the girl.. An Abjurer from the scent of her, was near. "Blood Power.." The monstrous male would motion from Alex to Eve with that chain bearing arm indicating he meant both of them."Use."

[-1 point for Shadow-Play for Afton]
[-1 point for Withering Touch on Kreelock]

Afton Kroman
Arcane Archon
Arcane Archon

Domain : Necromancy

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Eve Cassidy on Fri Mar 26, 2010 9:59 pm

Industrial Warehouse
Alternate Reality

We’re going to die! This sentence was repeated in Eve’s head as she continued running down the what seemed like a never ending corridor. As every second passed, as every thundering step filled the hall the beast grew closer and closer. There was nothing Eve could do but continue to dash down this corridor which would soon end in their death. She looked up at Alex and saw fear cross his face as he gazed back to look at the lumbering monster. Eve wanted to look but could not; she did not want to see how far away their death was. Tears started to stream down Eve’s face blurring her vision as they started to near the end of the hall. She knew the beast couldn’t be too far behind. If they continued running down the next corridor they certainly would not make it to the end but as they rounded it Alex did something that Eve was not expecting.

Alex stopped by the wall and pushed Eve away telling her to run but she could not abandon him there for the Kreelock. Eve bit her lip and turned back to watch Alex as the monster was drawing nearer and nearer. Should I run? I can’t just leave him Eve thought as she took a few steps backwards, more tears filled her eyes as she glanced over at the monster. She took a few more steps back but could not push herself to go any farther; she did not want to leave Alex standing there against the wall with a rusted wrench as his only protection. If the beast attacked him Eve was determined to come to his aid even though she had no weapons of her own to use against the giant monster. The color drained from her face as she watched Alex swing the wrench at the Kreelock like a profession baseball player would swing a bat at a baseball. Eve stared as blood sprayed out from the creature’s mouth and fall back down onto its face as it landed hard on the ground. Eve was surprised to see that it survived the impact but Alex quickly ended it with another blow to the Kreelock’s head. Eve exhaled just realizing that during the action she must have been holding her breath.

When Alex started to laugh, Eve couldn’t help but join him, she was too exhausted to say much. Her tears of fear were quickly replaced by tears of joy which she wiped away on the sleeve of her light jacket. The creature was dead and they were now safe, but the feeling only lasted for a moment. Right behind Alex was another of those monsters and this time Eve got a better view of the Kreelock as it stole Alex’s wrench. It appeared to have tusks protruding from its mouth which was filled with many sharp pointed teeth. The head was bald and the forehead ended in a prominent brow. Just as Eve thought the monster was going to kill Alex, someone came to their aid that appeared out of thin air. Before Eve could make sense of what was happening before her the Kreelock was lying on the ground, all life escaped its body. How the beast was killed Eve didn’t know. He must have used magic! she thought as she looked up at their savior wrapping the chain that aided him around his arm.

"Use Power.. Blood Power..”

Eve just looked at the man as confusion crossed her face, what did he mean by using blood power? Could she possibly use magic just as he done on the beast now lying on the ground behind him? Should she utter some words and hope she does magic? Eve looked at the man and simply asked “How?”

Eve Cassidy
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Abjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Alex Sorschal on Fri Mar 26, 2010 10:00 pm

First Contact
Alternate Reality - Industrial Warehouse)


The events of the next few moments defied description. The creature's foetid breath stank of rotten meat, and from his distance he could take in the detail the pocked, leathery skin, the beady, predatory eyes. His brain, now completely beyond panic simply shut off. It lunged, Alex screamed, flung his hands back and jerked his whole body back, the conflicting surges of stimuli and movement conflicting his memories and he stumbled. There was no time for him to dwell on it, or come up with an alternate strategy, and no mind for coherant thought. Simply sheer, blinding terror.

Chaos came next. The creature jerked straight up, its throat snared by chains he swore weren't even there a few seconds ago, ripping it's massive bulk off the ground. It's hands reached to the bulk of it's massive throat, tearing at them frantically and--even more frightening--still trying to go for Alex. His screams--which really hadn't ended, even now that the creature was restrained. He frantically kicked at the ground, trying to put more distance between the creature before he nearly bumped into Eve's legs in his manic attempt at fleeing.

Twisting tendrils of living shadow swept over the creature, who's enraged battlecries became screams of agony and fear. It entered his mouth, his eyes, swept over it, sucked the very life out of his body. There was a rush of ash and it was gone. Just... gone. Alex rose to his feet and stared, his body numb with adrenaline. He opened his mouth to say something-- 'Thank you' 'thank god' 'Holy shit you strangled the hell out of that thing' but struggled to rise up past the lump in his throat. He barely got to 'Tha-' but the Russian shoved him, pushing him back and forcing him to right himself using Eve--hands on her shoulders--though at least it looked like he was shielding her from the... Warlock, was the only term he could conjure up.

' Use Power... Blood Power' 'How?' Alex simply stared, refusing to comprehened. This all couldn't be happening. There was no such thing as power. These things couldn't live. Shadows didn't move like that.

What in the hell was happening here?

Alex Sorschal
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Afton Kroman on Fri Mar 26, 2010 10:00 pm

Short and sweet
-Industrial warehouse-

The Ill-humored survivor of Soviet regime bore holes into the two with intense golden eyes as they looked back at him both awe-struck and confused. Striking, handsome features normally held impassive curled into tight sneer at the simple fact that he did not understand that these two were Arcanists.. They were too weak, too jumpy and much to frail in his opinion but; non-the-less, they gave an essence that spoke gently against his thoughts. He would cast a sidelong glance over his shoulder, down the row of shelving and towards the sound of yet more unnatural creatures who currently rallied to terrorize the others who'd be deposited here by Gavin's sorcery.

Returning to the dumb-founded duo, Afton would approach, motioning to them once more with that chain clad arm. His broken English came from him heavily.
"It is feeling.. эмоция-" He paused for a brief second to think of the word in English before adding. "emotion."

Afton Kroman
Arcane Archon
Arcane Archon

Domain : Necromancy

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Brayden Abrams on Fri Mar 26, 2010 10:01 pm

[ grilled or fried? ]
ALTERNATE REALITY — THE WAREHOUSE

Gripping tightly on the crowbar he had picked up from the rubble of the warehouse, Brayden ignored the aches encompassing his body and left his friend standing in the darkness. With the game started, he was off to face the monsters inhabiting the abandoned place. Thoughts of where they had all landed disbanded from his mind; his surroundings told him what he was in the middle of, though the nest of Kreelocks was a surprise. The warehouse was about as open and large as one he had visited about a month ago while on a hunt, though the main difference was the lack of rotting bodies and blood-painted walls in his current location. These absences weren’t necessarily a bad thing, at least in his mind. The stench of decomposition could prove a formidable foe when acting as a distraction for an angry creature.

The stuttering life of a forklift caught his attention, and his eyes shifted throughout the shadows in the direction the noise came from – the sight of Lucas machine-hopping was one that was mildly entertaining, though the cause of his desperation stomped toward him on the ground without much effort. If the new Arcanists weren’t taught how to defend themselves, then they would be nothing more than mincemeat within the next twenty minutes. The Evoker deduced that they did indeed have abilities, or else they wouldn’t have even shown up at the Penthouse in the first place. Unfortunately for them, a dangerous attack sprung out of the blue wasn’t the best place for them to learn. When Brayden had first learned to use his gifts, it had been in a relatively controlled environment; a one on one excavation mediated by his father. With a mass number of Kreelocks rampaging around, there was little hope for anything like that.

The thundering of footsteps behind him was lost on his ears; having been too preoccupied with looking for the others, he was caught off guard by the monster storming up behind him. The ominous growl served as the only attention-shattering warning, though it would be too late for him to escape the attack. Claw-like grips tightened around his shoulder and right side, sharp nails cutting through his jacket and drawing blood, the fabric soaking up the crimson liquid. He masked a scream, quickly bringing up his elbow to connect with the creature’s jaw. Rolling his eyes at his own bad idea, he tried ignoring the pain that was shot down into his bones from the contact, though it had served as enough of a ploy to get him out of the demonic grip. If Lorelei saw that, it was definitely minus two points for dropping his attention from the game.

Taking off towards a stack of crates, he’d attempt to jump up and out of harm’s way, out of reach from the pissed off Kreelock. One foot steadily connected with the top of the first crate, though his left foot was hastily grabbed before he was completely safe. Yanked from his position, elbows slammed against the crate as he was pulled down, the crowbar he was holding almost slipping out of his grip as he fell. Curses fumbled past his lips as he landed on the concrete, and he rolled over on his back to face the Horde. Up close it was terribly horrendous; seeing it from far away and being scared didn’t do it the justice it deserved. Shaking off his “oh, fuck” moment, he took the crowbar in both of his hands, sitting up and jamming the metal bar into the Kreelock’s abdomen simultaneously.

Stumbling to his feet, he pushed the bar further, lodging it deeper in its confinement before smiling. The Kreelock snarled in agony, throwing forward its arm in attack; ducking beneath the closed fist, Brayden moved a fair distance away before turning around to face his enraged attacker. He cracked a smile – payback was in order. Electric sparks illuminated his area, trails of electricity racing down his body, traveling down his arms and to his fingertips. The power that rested within him would no longer be dormant; as of that day, he was the Evoker he had always been. As more electric pulses slithered on the edge of his skin, he welcomed the familiar feeling of power with great acceptance. It had been far too long since he had been able to use his gifts. With one last look at the now charging Kreelock, he laughed.

“Got ‘cha.”

Both arms extended, the racing electricity jumping from his fingertips in bolts of lightning. The streaks of light sparkled in luminescence, fish-tailing towards their destination in great haste. The crowbar served as a conductor – where the metal rod protruded from the creature’s body, the bolts sought out. The impact of the attack sent the Kreelock back, knocking it off of its abnormally large feet and slamming into the crates located behind it. The electric pulses radiated a magnificent light show; sparks coursed wildly throughout the demon’s body, gnashing at its skin and lapping at the blood from the wounds that were ripped into it. Brayden didn’t stay to watch his handiwork; even with one Kreelock down, there were plenty more to save the others from.

[-1 spell point; Chain of Lightning spell]

Brayden Abrams
Arcane Archon
Arcane Archon

Domain : Evocation

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Eve Cassidy on Fri Mar 26, 2010 10:02 pm

Industrial Warehouse
Alternate Reality

When the Russian pushed Alex towards Eve she braced herself ready to catch him in case he fell but Alex helped right himself by leaning on her shoulder. She watched as Alex tried to appear like he was protecting her from the man with the chains but Eve didn’t think it was necessary. After all he had just saved them from the beast. If the Russian was planning on hurting or even killing them he would have just let the Kreelock finish his business or even used what appeared to be magic on them both. She was certain they were safe for the moment for Eve could hear crawling around behind her what she knew for sure was more of the beasts. The noises were still distant but Eve knew they could run fast and cover much ground in a short time. The warehouse must be filled with the Kreelocks and Eve was certain that if they didn’t use the Blood Power that the man spoke of than her and Alex wouldn’t make it out of there alive.

Use emotion. How am I suppose to use emotions? Eve thought to herself. She still was not too sure of what he meant by that. Eve was hoping that the Russian would have been more descriptive or even showed her but with Kreelocks surrounding them and closing in closer by each minuet she knew there was only so much he could tell them before they reappeared ready to rip them apart. Eve looked over at Alex hoping he could make sense of what the man meant. However if Alex did not Eve was willing to give it a try. She was sure that if the time called for it she could use this Blood Power.

Eve Cassidy
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Abjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Lyra Sullivan on Fri Mar 26, 2010 10:03 pm

(Lyra continues from here.)

There was too much going on all at once. From a bus ride that was supposed to be normal turned death match, to learning about what she could do - and really, why would anyone actually believe something like that if they hadn't seen it? - to being dragged into this whole arcanist mess. She didn't ask for this. She was doing just fine on her own with her own roof over her head and her own processes of surviving. And she'd been doing it for a long while now, so this new complication was just something she had to integrate into her daily life. Possibly. Because, well, as much as she hated to admit it, this new little freak gene she appeared to have might help her with her deviance. After all, couldn't get caught if you couldn't be seen, right? At least, once she actually figured out how to get some control over this damn thing. Control was key to anything.

She hadn't spoken to anyone once she'd gotten to the penthouse, but she'd listened. And when the guy with green eyes went all technicolor bright light, Lyra's first instinct was to hightail it out. But as she turned to do so, light wrapped around her, blinding her and causing her to feel as if she were being pulled in all directions, and then one single one. It wasn't a pleasant feeling at all. No control. None. She was back in the various houses where she was at other people's mercy and she'd be damned if that happened again. Damn right damned. And when she landed in God knew where, it was with a throbbing slamming against her temple and dots swimming in front of her vision. Then again, a "fall" and bright lights did that to a person. And to top it off, whatever she'd fallen on top was stabbing into her calf and she could feel some blood. Just perfect. As if she hadn't just come off from being used as a baseball bat. Now what else was being thrown at her? Could she just go back to her own life now? Pretty please?

Pushing herself off, Lyra knew that this place had a sense of the familiar, but only because it was a dusty warehouse of sorts. That she could figure out once her vision had cleared. She lived in places like these, she just had to figure out the layout and she'd be fine. She was a pro at this. Figuring out all the places one could hide or use as a trap in places like this. Use what she was given to get done what she needed to get done. And if she hadn't been a body full of bruises and aches, she might have been able to move faster, but then again, it was always something.

Always something. It didn't take long for her to register the screams coming from around her, and the gutteral sounds that seemed to register in her brain as being heard just hours before. "Oh God, not again," she muttered. Hadn't she just been in the presence of three of these things? And now she was stuck in a warehouse with an undetermined number of them. More than one if the sounds coming from around her were any indication. But she wasn't alone in here. There were yells and screams which meant there were other people. Probably the same ones that had been in the penthouse around her if logic played normally. But she was throwing regular logic out the window if it didn't suit her needs. None of this crap was logical. Monsters weren't logical. This magic shit? Not. Logical. But apparently very real and very painful. Okay, Lyra... think. She was in the clear right now, none of those things too close to her, so she needed to take some action.

First step? Stop the shaking in her hands so she could concentrate and start getting to work. She'd be no good if she couldn't get her hands steady. Second step? Start searching. Do it quickly and efficiently. And most importantly, do it with as little sound as she could. She had to clear her head and get to work, or she'd be as dead as that bus driver from earlier. God, she already hated this with a passion.

Lyra Sullivan
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Illusion

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Alex Sorschal on Fri Mar 26, 2010 10:04 pm

Useful Advice
Industrial Warehouse, Alternate Reality.

'Use emotion?' Alex stared at the Russian with a mixture of complete bafflement and exasperation. He was feeling plenty of emotion; particularly, bowel-clenching terror, but he didn't see how that was in any way remotely useful. In fact the entire thing was to utterly ridiclious to contemplate. Blood Power? Emotion? Living shadows? Pissed off monsters from God-knows where? How the hell did this happen to him? What exactly did he don in his life to earn this complete madness? More screams joined the chorus, unearthly keens from the wretched things. They were cautious. Two of their kin had fallen, and they were likely gauging the situation before they tried again--but it wouldn't last. And as the Russian Meat Tank was doing a poor impression of Obi-wan Kenobi, he severely doubted he was going to pull the hero act the next time. He took two steps towards the man, halted and cagey, as if an invisible wall were between them and he was afraid of bumping it, before darting next to the fallen Kree-lock and retrieving his makeshift weapon, scrambling back to Eve, never once taking his eyes off the Russian. He reluctantly tore his gaze away and looked to Eve, which at this point was the only sane thing in this entire mess.

"Look... W..Whatever's going on, we're in over our heads." At least, Alex was way over his head. That thing plucked his weapon away like he was a toddler. He lucked out one, he didn't fancy his chances for any other. "There's got to be somewhere we can... I dunno, hide out, or a way out... or something. " He looked at the Russian, praying that he'd find it more useful to direct them their way to safety then just leave them to rot. "W-where should we go? What do we do?" Alex asked the murderous Russian, because, of course, he was the only one to ask. There was a heavy bang along one of the shelf walls--one of the Kreelocks was scaling it. Time was running out.

Alex Sorschal
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Lorelei Ashford on Fri Apr 02, 2010 4:20 pm

…Welcome to the Dollhouse
Industrial Warehouse, Los Angeles???

Blades twirled in the palm of her hands as she pulled them out from the hidden compartment in her boots. Long strands of her chocolate waves swayed with the momentum. There was little time to question what had actually happened. Emerald hues glanced around to only find a handful who had been sent through the vortex with the rest of them. Complete and utter chaos had consumed the Penthouse library earlier. All around the enchantress, voices had been thrown over the din of conversation. There had been so many of them and as Logan so eloquently put it—she was in charge of those that happened to be arcanists. To her knowledge, that was impossible. Arcane powers were passed down from one generation to the next through blood. The mana running through their veins connected them all—Brayden, Afton, Adelina, Gavin, and herself were the last remaining arcanists left. Their families had been murdered during the war and she knew there was no possible way the others could share a relation to them. They were scattered across the country, all from different backgrounds, how was it possible? While she didn’t out rightly believe them, they had all been dragged into the middle of an all out war. Despite her isolation from humanity for so many years, she couldn’t consciously allow them to put themselves in harms way. Everything had happened in the blink of an eye and for once Lorelei Ashford wasn’t sure if she could take control of the situation and pull back on the reins. There was just so much to take in and yet one thing was for certain—she had her powers back. She could once again make a difference. For two years she was forced to live as a mere mortal, some habits were hard to break. “Cocky now that you’ve got your powers back?” In spite of the situation, a smirk curled at the corners of her lips. If these tykes really did have powers, now was the time to show them. While the original arcanists could hold their own against their attackers, it would have been foolish to underestimate their opponents. Squinting her dark hues, Lorelei had taken a moment to study the horde charging directly towards them. One thing the enchantress had picked up on was the fact that these creatures before them were the same as the one she had tracked with Brayden to Serik’s cave. Determined, the enchanter knew exactly how to deal with them—when in doubt, aim for the neck.

While Lorelei couldn’t determine where their entourage had been teleported to, something felt…off. She couldn’t put her finger on it, let along decipher the contradicting bits of evidence but the dim, flickering lights of the warehouse barely allowed them to see passed the shadows. The head of the conjuration family had sent them here, why? It had been two years since she set her eyes on him—he was different. Something had changed in him. Amnesia didn’t explain that transformation. In theory and essence he was the same person yet not. Just because a person lost their memories, didn’t mean they couldn’t feel that connection with their close relations. Something should have triggered some feeling within him but it hadn’t. Yet somehow, the conjurer instinctively sent them here, not all of them, some of them—why? The others might not have sensed that change but the enchantress knew there was something else present within the mana that engulfed them and sent them here. She could have sworn she had heard someone call out to her just as she was sucked into the vortex—that was crazy to think though. Whatever the reason, there were here and now faced with a small battalion of fang baring monsters from the shadow realm. The enchanter couldn’t tell how many of them had been transported to this very spot, but she could here their screams and shouts of panic echoing off the barren walls. From what she could see, the warehouse was filled with rusting junk that probably hadn’t been used in this century. The walls were peeling and a draft swept by her petite form. There was an exit somewhere, but the arcanists wouldn’t be able to reach it unless they somehow managed to get back the towering beasts. That could be managed as the smirk remained on her perfectly painted lips. Heeled boots dragged along the thickly dust-covered floor as she readied her stance. Brayden had taken the left side so she took the right. For two years the evoker and enchanter had sought out all manner of shadowkind they could find. It didn’t matter that their powers had been stripped away; hunting was the only thing they could do to feel like they were making a difference. They could have easily buried themselves somewhere now that they were off the grid, but neither wanted to simply take a back seat to their rightful places in the world.

Her bag still hung from her shoulder as she reached for the strap and twisted the pouch so it hung at her back. Long locks of auburn hair had been matted from her fall, but she ignored them. Dark hues found themselves boring into the beady eyes of the familiar Kreelock she had only just faced that afternoon. With one long arm extended out, the hulking beast would swing towards the petite brunette as she barely ducked underneath pure muscle. Flipping the handle of the dragger, point turned inward, she slashed the sharp edge across the monster’s side and cut him. A loud roar filled her ears as a heavy open-fist rounded about and connected with her cheek. Gritting in pain, the momentum caused her to fall and skid across the concrete floor. Her jeans collected the dust leaving a clean trail in her wake. Pushing herself up onto her hands, her blade was stained with its blood as she refused to lose her weapon. Wiping her cheek with the back of her hand, a bruise would surely form but that was the least of her worries. In the distance she could see Brayden with his own hands full. Usually she would scold him for losing his concentration, but the evoker could now take care of himself. The proof of that was playing before her eyes as she could sense the energy gathering towards him. Other than Afton, none of the others had even shown a blimp on her radar that mana actually lied dormant within them. If they had powers, why weren’t they using them? Lorelei had been born with her abilities, had learned to master them as time had gone by—these rookies never had that luxury. If anything, their powers should have involuntary reacted to an attack. Control came with time; the arcanists couldn’t afford that comfort. It was now or never. Live or die.

The game was on and Lorelei had every intention of collecting the bet she had made with her dear friend. Was their game twisted? Yes. As long as she had her powers, she had been aware of the shadow world. To face the cruel reality of their destinies, the original arcanists had found ways to cope with the lives that were bestowed on them. This was just one-way Lorelei and Brayden had managed to see each new day out. Before she could compose herself, the enchantress was back on her toes. Taking one step back as another fist sailed in her direction she dodged another precise strike for her head. It was persistent but she wouldn’t let it get the best of her. Ducking to the ground, leg extended, she swiped its legs out from under it as it fell to the floor in a heap. With her dragger raised above her head, she was about to plunge the point into its neck when a vice-like grip grabbed her throat. With ease she was lifted a few feet off the ground with her legs dangling underneath. Cursing under her breath, she hadn’t seen the other Kreelock heading directly for her. Shaken forcefully, the blades fell from her hands as she reached up to try and pry the thick digits away from her neck. Coughing, instinct took over as the creature drew her closer to eye level—that was a mistake now that she could reach him. Without a second thought, her hand shot out as she grabbed its neck. Emerald pools were drowned in black abyss as her mana flowed through her; her gaze never left the creature’s as it reflected her own, entranced by them. Her mind and thoughts would consume it before she let go and her hand fell. No longer struggling, the Kreelock would blink and set her down gently to the ground. The other who had been left on the floor charged at the enchantress from behind. Before she could react, her Kreelock grabbed the other and with ease twisted his neck. Smiling to herself, the creature was now under her complete control to command at will. It would die for her without even thinking.

[-1 spell point; Touch of Command + Kreelock]

Lorelei Ashford
Arcane Archon
Arcane Archon

Domain : Enchantment

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Michael Ashford on Fri Apr 02, 2010 7:00 pm

From near the entrance of the industrial warehouse, a group of four figures were preparing to make their exit from the run-down building after having completed their task of sending a warning to the newest set of arcanists from another time. Among them were none other than Lorelei Ashford and Brayden Abrams, along with Lorelei's younger brother, Michael, and her son, Finn. Without any knowledge of the carnage that was unfolding within the depths of the facility, the foursome found themselves stopping dead in their tracks at the tell-tale sound of a skirmish breaking out from much deeper within the old warehouse.

Thus far, they had been lucky enough to avoid any Kreelock intervention. Although magic was no secret in their world, mortal knowledge of the existence of mystical forces proved just as much a hindrance as it did a help. Without the need to keep their existence secret from humanity at large, for instance, the shadowkind were able to stage attacks on their intended victims even in broad daylight. This made traveling outside of protected areas especially dangerous. As it was, they had all taken a great risk by coming here to begin with--something that Michael had protested from the onset of this little misadventure. Turning toward his sister, the younger Enchanter nodded in the direction of the stream of sunlight flooding in through ajar door that led outside, where their car was waiting. Sure, his first inclination was to tell her, 'I told you so,' but luckily Michael knew better than to invoke Lorelei's wrath.

"Get Finn out of here. I'll go and check it out."

Michael didn't wait for the response he already knew would come from his older sister, telling him to wait and that they should all stick together. A brief glance was exchanged with the only Evoker present, before he broke away from the group and headed back into the darkened interior of the large warehouse. If nothing else, he knew Brayden wouldn't let anything happen to Lorelei or Finn while he was gone. In fact, there was no one else who Michael felt safer with looking over his family, despite their recent differences.

It didn't take him long to arrive upon the scene of a would-be massacre, where a horde of Kreelock warriors were quickly overwhelming a handful of humans--half of whom seemed incapable of defending themselves against the onslaught. Catching Brayden engaging a Kreelock just inside of his peripheral vision, Michael mentally admonished the other man for failing to listen, before looking back to the makeshift battlefield and spotting Lorelei among those actually putting up a fight against the demonic menace. Really, why did he even bother anymore? Those two could be just as stubborn as he was. With no doubt that they had left Finn somewhere safe (and not even really bothering to wonder how they'd made it to the scene before him), Michael tapped into his own arcane gifts. Focusing on the race of Kreelocks present, he attempted to plant a simple suggestion into the minds of the brutish monsters that would place some distance between them and the scattered humans, at least temporarily, and allow the handful of Arcanists a bit of breathing room so that they could better fend off the hulking monstrosities.

"Re-group!"

Those Kreelocks within range of his voice, who could actually hear the command over the sounds of battle, would soon begin backing off of their intended victims, falling back near the farthest end of the warehouse near some rusted machinery so that they could re-group their efforts, and come at their targets anew. Unfortunately, it was only a temporary fix, and one that did not affect the entire army of Kreelocks currently within the werehouse, but hopefully the others would take the opportunity to get the hell out of there before their attackers returned full-force, so that the Arcanists present could focus their efforts on defeating the remaining horde.

[-1 spell point; Mass Suggestion]

Michael Ashford
Arcane Archon
Arcane Archon

Domain : Enchantment

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Eve Cassidy on Sat Apr 03, 2010 1:42 am

Industrial Warehouse
Alternate Reality
A loud bang resonated from behind Eve and turning around she saw that it was another one of the ugly beasts climbing the selves on the wall. Eve was certain that the selves would give under the Kreelock’s weight but it held strong. The Kreelock turned its head and found what it was looking for. This time Eve was able to get a full view of the creature but the sight made her even more terrified. The main feature that caught her eye was the Kreelock’s many sharp teeth settled in between, what appeared to her, two tusks. Eve wanted to run and hide but she knew it would be useless. So far running got them nowhere and she knew running now would only end in their death unlike before. Then to Eve’s horror the monster leaped towards them with murder in its eyes and ready to deliver a death blow to whatever lay in its path.

Eve turned towards Alex and tried to push him out of the way of the beast but failed. The Kreelock was already running towards them, swinging a weapon right at them both before Eve could even attempt to save Alex in some way. Eve quickly turned around ready for the weapon, which appeared to be a metal bar, to collide right into her but it didn’t make contact with her body. Instead the weapon fell to the ground nearly landing on Eve’s foot. She looked up at the beast and saw to her relief that it was now being pushed back away from where she and Alex stood as if there was an invisible wall shoving the Kreelock back away from them. As she looked closer Eve thought that she saw a light glow of a blue wall surrounding her and Alex that stretched out for about seven feet away from her. As she stood there somehow repelling the beast she now started to feel some power within her awakening. Eve knew this had to be the blood power that the Russian had spoke of earlier but was unsure of how she was using the strange power.

Eve didn’t want to move an inch for fear of the invisible wall protecting them would disappear and leave the Kreelock to resume trying to kill them. Instead the monster stood at the edge of the wall trying to advance towards them but without success. Eve was about to ask Alex what they should do when she heard a distant voice say ”Re-group and the Kreelock standing feet away from her started to walk away. Eve was confused as to why the Kreelock was just leaving but she was certain it had to deal with the voice she just heard. Once the monster was out of sight, Eve turned around to face Alex making sure that he wasn’t harmed during their attack.

“Alex are you okay?” She asked him concern in her voice.

[-1spell point; Antilife Spell]

Eve Cassidy
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Abjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Alex Sorschal on Sat Apr 03, 2010 2:19 pm

'Blood Power'
Alternate Reality

Alex watched the clamboring beast with a mixture of horror and mounting dismay. It was like watching an oncoming train wreck--you knew exactly what was coming, but no amount of foreknowledge could help you even remotely meaningfully. He took a few, awkward, shuffling steps back. "No, no, no!" The thing's muscles surged and it lunged at the pair of them. He felt Eve try to shove at him, but his legs felt leaden. He saw the wicked arc of the bar it carried and shut his eyes, wonder, fleetingly, if he would have much time to feel it before it caved his skull in. That hit, it seemed, never came.

Alex snapped his eyes open again to see the creature, pressing against some invisible something, snarling in impotent fury. His eyes widended a fraction and he passed Eve a look just to confirm that he hadn't somehow lost his mind--but then again, she was currently sheathed in blue and the strange force that held their attacker at bay was coming from her, so maybe that was a bad person to look for inspiration towards. He passed his eyes rapidly between the two, simply trying to process what was happening. Then, just like that, someone called for it to re-group and it simply shook it's head, as if dismissing a stray thought and stalked off. He didn't realize his jaw had gone slack until Eve called for him today.

The tone of her inquiry felt almost comically at odds with what just happened, and he snapped his gaze back in the direction of the retreating Kreelock, then at her. "I... you... uh...Thanks? " he sent one last fleeting look over his shoulder. "Y...Yeah. Yeah, I am." How that was the case he couldn't say, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse (or horrible mutant freak) in the mouth here. "We should go, before we run into another one of these things."

Alex resolved to stick very close to Eve from now on. He had no idea what the hell had happened, but as of that moment, Eve had figured out precisely more than he had. His gaze snapped down each end of the shelving, and in a moment he hefted up the wrench uncertaintly, and started to edge away from the big Russian and find some way out of here...

Alex Sorschal
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Plotline on Thu Apr 08, 2010 6:12 pm

ALTERNATE | REALITY
WAREHOUSE, LOS ANGELES


With their fellow brethren falling one by one, the remaining twelve Kreelocks had to regroup and reattack, figuratively speaking. The magic users exposed themselves and it made the inevitable victory that much sweeter – the thought of their blood running over their monstrous hands would be a reward worth fighting for. While it seemed three broke off to take time to chit-chat, it was an opportunity that would not be missed by the small group of Kreelocks wanting their own piece of the action. The mature arcanist was first, he was the first to kill one of their group, the favor would be returned. With decent speed the ax-wielding heavyweight bypassed the two less-fearsome looking ones and swung the sharpened blade through the air in a very lumberjack-like manner. He wasn’t the brightest kid in class, so he went straight for the blood and guts of it all, wanting to see the wonderful essence that was infused inside splattered against the walls. If he missed, the momentum from heaving his ax down would be used to swing it back up in the direction where the arcanist should be standing. As much as these people tried to fight, they would get what was coming to them – in one way or another. These oafs were just vying for first dibs.

Meanwhile, there were two scared looking ones that didn’t seem to know which way was up; the confusion on their faces was priceless. Two Kreelocks approached them from either side and while one grabbed the girl by the throat. As she was lifted at least a foot of the group, the monster tilted his head in a very questioning manner, “Cry for me?” The grip was tightened as he watched the girl intently. The other aimed a monstrous boot to the man’s chest hoping to knock him to the ground. If successful, the Kreelock would keep the boot where it had hit and apply pressure to his sternum to see him squirm. The creature would know the man would have difficulty breathing with each increasing pound transferred onto his chest, but he didn’t want to kill him nor did the other creature want to kill the girl – oh no, this was way too much fun to pass up. As the creature applied more pressure, he bent down with claws exposed, “Not so big and bad now, are ya?” Referring to the number he did on one of the Kreelocks out of pure instinct. He had to be taught a lesson and what a fun lesson it would be. Apparently the original order was to eliminate the threat. Okay, so one or two would be a little bit of a nuisance, but from current standings, it would be a task that couldn’t hurt if it was dragged out just a little bit longer – at least for the Kreelocks. Boot was lifted and as the man moved, the Kreelock kicked the arcane-noob like he was punting a football and watched as his dominance reigned once again.

James Bond the Builder seemed to have his game plan set as he weaved in and out of the machinery that scattered the abandoned warehouse. Little did Lucas know that he was being watched carefully as he made such quick movements that were supposed to help him out. As the man tried to stay out of harm’s way, harm’s way would find him in the form of a Kreelock with a big piece of metal with his name on it. Catching him off guard, the giant swung at the man’s abdomen, with the 305 lbs. of pure terror behind it. Sometimes their orders were too easy and the amount of destruction while completely said task became a big component to their actions.

Mr. Lightning man seemed to be more trouble than he was actually worth. Two Kreelocks rushed the head evoker who seemed to be looking for trouble, swords in hands, and swung at him in different directions: one went for his head while the other swiped at his abdomen. If nothing seemed to connect, an enraged Kreelock would, if the man had tried to fight back, grab an arm in reach and bend it in the opposite way an elbow should bend with a sickening snap accompanying such an easy gesture. What seemed to be all in one movement, holding the arm he tried to break, the Kreelock would hoist him around and toss him across the warehouse as if he were a rag-doll.

The last two annoying pests proved difficult. Both somehow had managed to take control of a third of their number as they commanded them to their wills. Minds too weak to fight off their influence, they did as they were told. A few had grouped together as another killed its comrade trying to protect the hell cat on wheels.

Plotline
Adversaries
Adversaries

Domain : Plotline

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Alternate Reality on Thu Apr 08, 2010 6:13 pm

…Beyond the Veil
Alternate Lorelei - Industrial Warehouse, Los Angeles

If one could change their destiny, would they do it? Erase all the suffering, all the pain, stop the present situation before it ever happened. It would be tempting, especially when the life they had lived in had constantly been thrust into the public eye and then chased by all manner of shadowkind alike. That was Lorelei Ashford’s world since the day she was born. She hadn’t chosen it, hadn’t asked for things to happen the way they did. Her life was simply out of her hands and she had no control over it, despite her gifts. Being an enchanter meant she could sway people to her, bend their will and practically strip them of their own. Those powers were handy and it was very possible to fear someone with those kinds of abilities. She could charm objects and even enchant them to do her bidding. With all that power, one would think it was possible to change destiny and control it, but it wasn’t. She was stuck in a world where people either wanted to use her or kill her for what she was. This was no life for her or her son—her main priority and her world. He was the only thing she had left of the person she had lost two years ago, the man she had shared her vows with. It seemed like only yesterday when everything in her world had been right, or at least safe. Before tragedy struck, she didn’t care or worry about the shadows that lingered at every corner. With her husband by her side, she knew nothing could ever or would ever touch them. She had been so naïve to think that if their little family stuck together they would all be fine. But they weren’t untouchable.

The world may have been aware of what they were, but by being out in the open, the shadow plane’s job was that much easier. With complete knowledge of its existence, there was no need for them to hide away or wait until nightfall to strike. He had died trying to protect them as he blocked off their path of escape from the Kreelocks that had hunted them down. Finn had only been two years old and while she wanted to help him, their son’s life was at risk. Everything happened in a blink of an eye and before she knew it, he was gone. There was nothing left in Boston to keep her there, Michael and Brayden had both returned to New York with her. With William and Annabella still living on the Ashford Estate, they would be able to form a stronghold for themselves. For the last two years they had been pent up in the old manor together, it was dangerous to venture out for long periods of time alone. Everyday another horde of Kreelocks would pound against the shields and enchantments that had been placed around the house, as they would try to breech their security. This was no way for her son to grow up; it had to come to an end somehow. Just like his father, her son had developed a knack for conjuration—while she had been constantly teased about that by her brother, Lorelei knew the kind of potential he had and a plan started to form.

Despite the recent tension between her brother and brother-in-law, they had both agreed the idea was crazy. When it came to their sister and nephew, the two always managed to share the same opinion. Unfortunately she couldn’t just waste away her life buried inside the manor waiting for death to come. There had to be something she could do in the end, something she could change. The only possible way she could change things rested in her son’s gifts. Being a conjurer allowed him to not only heal but to also conjure things out of thin air and teleport himself and others. While he was only four and still learning how to master his power, he had a natural knack for transportation. She had learned early on during her own training that there were many planes of existence outside her own. Time though was tricky and if time was just another plane, theoretically something could be transported from one to the other. With that in mind, the pieces started to fit into place. It was easy enough for her to enchant the message they would all receive and it was common practice of the Ashford family to leave hidden messages underneath the careful script. Any enchanter could recognize the signs and if her alternate self managed to get a hold of one of the letters, she would know what to do.

Lorelei had been aware of the Ancient’s plans for the new arcanists, most in her reality had been killed off before they even had a chance to develop their powers. Those that survived had found refuge at the manor, but their numbers were few against a growing army. What had boggled her mind most was the fact that the Horde had known exactly who and where to find these newly endowed magic users. It made no sense unless they had been warned ahead of time of their whereabouts. The remaining arcanists couldn’t afford to take any chances and if the same thing were to happen in the other reality, they would be doomed as well. Her plan was simple; gather the new and guide them to the old. The penthouse had been her best bet since very few knew of its existence. With the notes complete, her son hopefully could see through the veil and teleport the notes directly into their possession. The rest was left up to fate; the warehouse provided a unique hub of arcane energy that should have allowed the breach through the veil of time. Yet, it was a power center, one the shadow plane had been aware of—it was no doubt guarded and watched at all times. Not only would they lead themselves directly to the enemy, they were constantly watched from the perimeter of the magical barriers.

Without any sign of danger, the hair on the back of her neck had been crawling. It had been too easy, the notes she had were sent into the delicate fabrics of time. And yet, there was still no sign of anyone coming. Michael and Brayden urged mother and son to hurry. Emerald hues pierced through the dank darkness of the abandoned warehouse, something was out there but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Gritting her teeth, she reached down to pick Finn up as his little arms circled around her neck. “Alright, let’s get out of here.” The palm of her hand would gently run up and down his back in a soothing motion. He wasn’t scared; in fact he had been excited to help out his mom and uncles. He may have had her looks but when it came to strength and will, he was the perfect blend of both his parents—enchanter and conjurer. Despite the urgency, a proud smirk curled at the corners of her lips as she followed in her brother’s wake. They had made it to the exit without any trouble until a roar echoed against the barren walls. Her head immediately turned causing the wavy locks to sway with it; shouts and screams reached them as their car was a mere few feet away. Unconsciously her grip tightened on the little boy as her Michael left them no time to react. Glaring at his retreating back, she walked up to Brayden and handed Finn over to his uncle. Ruffling the short strands before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, she eyed them both carefully. “Watch him and make sure he doesn’t try to escape.” The enchantress knew her son all too well and the evoker was well aware of the mischief the tiny conjurer could and would cause. There was absolutely no way she would allow her brother to run off into the unknown without someone looking out for his back. Following the sounds of battle, she weaved in and out of old and rusted machinery. The closer she came, the more she could sense the familiar traces of arcane magic. How was that possible? One in particular screamed out to her, practically identical to her own but…different.

It was impossible; it made absolutely no sense at all. Minutes later she heard and felt her brother tap into the sacred mana and release it upon the unsuspecting horde of Kreelocks that had descended upon the small group assembled there. Without a second thought, a handful gathered beneath the heavy rusted crane and a thought came to mind. The enchanter siblings always made quite the pair—raising her hands and concentrating, her arms would swoop down and the rusted piece of junk would fall under her control. Following the motion of her hands, the cranes arm would descend and knock right into the mindless drones waiting for further orders. Their bodies would be sent soaring as their unearthly growls carried over the din. Sighing, her hands fell to her side. The spell had barely taken a toll on the petite brunette while her gaze looked across the empty space to find her brother. Distracted, long lashes blinked over surprise as she found herself staring into a mirror image of herself. She was different though—clothes for starters. And then there was an air about her the same but darker as if she had lived a very different life from her own. How was this even possible?


[-1 spell point; Animate Object + Crane]

Alternate Reality
Alternate
Alternate

Domain : Arcanist

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Re: The Grass is Greener

Post  Brayden Abrams on Fri Apr 09, 2010 11:20 pm

[ doppelgangers ]
ALTERNATE REALITY — THE WAREHOUSE

His journey to help out the others was a short-lived one. Not four steps away from the charbroiled Kreelock he had taken out, two more were awaiting his arrival. From behind a double set of crates, the two orc-like beasts stepped into view, brandishing their claws and ready to slice him open. The putrid stench that rolled from their breath hit the Evoker first, practically knocking him back from the terrible odor. The Kreelocks had every aspect of disgusting down – from looks to personal hygiene.

“Sorry fellas, I’m fresh outta breath mints. Try brushing; you wouldn’t want your teeth to fall out, would ya?”

The elicited response had been anticipated: an angry grunt here, a vehement growl there. Both of the monstrosities charged forward, lashing out with talon-claws that nicked his flesh deeper than he would have liked for them to. His abdomen took the brunt of the first blow, the cuts there reopening as they were tore once again. Biting back a cry of pain, he pushed his body towards the two in an effort to lean backwards, barely managing to dodge the blow soaring toward his head. His headache from earlier had yet to go away; had the attack connected, it would have only brought more searing pain to his body. Taking his body lower, he extended his right leg, kicking the first Kreelocks feet out from under him and quickly standing as his opponent fell. As the Arcanist rose, his arm was grabbed, yanking him from his spot and twisting him in a way his body wasn’t meant to go. This time, he was unable to hold back the yell as he was flung across the warehouse, body smashing against an old metal machine. The back of his head connected with the dusty metal, the clang ringing throughout the warehouse and resonating within his ears.

His vision was blurred; dark spots traced his vision from the collision, covering most of the visible area in front of him. From what little he could make out, he saw a man – one he hadn’t noticed back at the Penthouse while they were all being teleported – running toward a gathering group of the Shadowkind. Not too long after the stranger, the female he had gambled with ran by, working her enchantments to control a nearby crane. As he watched the magnificent teamwork displayed by the two, his vision slowly extended, more sights becoming clearer to him than before. He took notice of Lorelei’s new wardrobe – had she been wearing that earlier? He couldn’t quite recall. Brown orbs ventured towards the second member of the duo, and for that moment, Brayden’s breath hitched. Before him was Michael Ashford.

Dead. The younger Enchanter had died two years ago, way back at the Azoth manor. That body hadn’t been mistaken for deceased; he had witnessed his mourning friend hold her brother’s body close to her in the wake of destruction they had both survived. There was no way that Michael could have been back – Gavin was alive because he had really transported to the Arcane realm; they hadn’t ever found his body in the wreckage. Adelina and Afton had both disappeared after the war in Seattle; they hadn’t been corpses on the battlefield. Even Serik, whose body had been ripped apart, had turned up alive; though, his Essentian status had been what had really saved him. What was Michael’s saving grace? Or was it really him at all?

“Lorelei!”

He shouted out towards his friend; she had just helped her brother perform a mass murder on at least a third of their enemies. She hadn’t questioned his vitality; she was working with him fine. The confusion that was settling in on his mind was thrown into an ethereal chaos as a second female form stepped into his line of sight. Before him stood two very identical, but very different, Lorelei Ashfords. The sinking feeling within the pit of his chest refused to go away. Instead, it anchored even further, leaving his head spinning and his thoughts going wild. Even as the battle went on around him still, he was solemn with the events that were transpiring. This day had truly been the day from Hell.

The light from Eve’s Abjuration spell caught his attention, his head snapping just in time to witness her throwing back an advancing Kreelock in the distance. The magnificent energy finally spelled out one of the new Arcanists’ abilities, though it still left three of them in question. The pain in his abdomen screamed at him as he stood up, holding the wounds with his right hand. Nearby, a blonde woman scurried off behind objects, attempting to stay hidden from the Kreelocks that were ransacking the place. She had the right idea: if she hadn’t yet found out how to tap into her magic, her best bet would definitely be to hide until she could find ways to survive.

Stealthily, he began to move toward the two Enchantresses in the distance. The approaching Kreelocks from behind him stalked the shadows, waiting for the right time to make their move. One gripped hold of his left shoulder, clenching it tightly and digging into his flesh with its long claws. Quickly turning his body, he brought a clenched, gloved fist to the side of the Kreelocks head, ducking and twisting to send a knee thrusting into its stomach. As the other went to punch him, he used both hands to grab the flying fist, pushing it upwards and away from his face. If they didn’t find some way out of this Hell soon, he’d be out for the count; the blood soaking through his clothes was proof of that.

Brayden Abrams
Arcane Archon
Arcane Archon

Domain : Evocation

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Re: The Grass is Greener

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