Wax On, Wax Off

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Tobias Wakefield on Sun Apr 04, 2010 11:29 pm

Arik's Keep



The Texan in question was fine with being considered weak. It didn't hurt his feelings at all. In fact, if nothing, Tobias felt more assured of his actions after watching those of his classmates. Two people attacked, and both had failed to cause any damage. Like Tobias had thought earlier, this man was stronger than they even knew. So it served him to be hesitant. Of course he couldn't do so for long...this seemed to be real.

Glancing over his shoulder briefly upon hearing noise other than that of a fight, Tobias noted Danae. But just as quick as he'd glanced at her, his eyes were back on the stranger while he again moved closer to those he could. With the stranger returning attacks, it wouldn't be much longer until he was coming after Tobias himself, and those close to him.

It seemed that now was the most opportune moment to try something; he was distracted by Colby. Regardless of the fact that neither woman probably needed to be protected, the southern gentleman in him couldn't help but try. Grabbing at Gabrielle's arm, Tobias attempted to pull her gently towards the back of room. This brought them closer to Danae, and once he was close enough to have both of them hear him, he spoke quickly.

"The man tooka knife to the throat, an' he's still standin'? I'm thinkin' we might needta get outta here. Imma try an' distract him if I can."

Whether or not they agreed, he didn't care. What he did care about was making sure that at least some of them made it out alive, if nothing else. Taking a moment to focus, a deep breath was inhaled through his mouth before being expelled through his nose; he was now ready. Mana bubbled within in his blood as the arcane arts -- the magic that Tobias himself so confusedly feared and lived in awe of -- began to work it's...well...magic.

Deciding it was best to attack his senses rather than his physical person, the sound that now rose from nothingness to a high-pitched whine assaulted the stranger's ears. Tobias attempted to channel his ability so that the sound was as loud as he could manage. Had the other's been exposed, they all would have dropped to their knees immediately in pain. It was all done to hopefully gain them some time to escape or mount a plausible counter-attack, and perhaps it would even aid Colby in defending himself.

[ -1 Spell Point - Ghost Sound ]


Last edited by Tobias Wakefield on Tue Apr 13, 2010 3:57 pm; edited 1 time in total

Tobias Wakefield
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Illusion

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By The Throat

Post  Colby Miller on Mon Apr 05, 2010 12:15 am

““And fight them on until there is no more tumult or oppressions, and there prevail justice and Faith in Allah; but if they cease, let there be no hostility except to those who practice oppression”
The Keep

Well, thats bloody brilliant isn't it? Xakiel ate the punch at him like Jason hadn't even struck him. And just as he had begun to talk, the immortal(because surely he was as immortal as zombie Jesus), took the telekinetic knife of Colby's right to the throat.

Deep, and dangerously struck. And didn't so much as stop to gurgle and spit out the heaps of blood that surely had started to pour out of him. Visibly Colby swallowed, allowing himself to drop deeper into the mana that flowed through his being, that started to draw up into him and through him. Battle. The Transmutation Domain, was known for its skills and prowess in battle. For their love of the fight. Of being stronger and faster than others. For this particular Shaper, hated violence.

He had given into violence as a means to an end, a way to find the glorious light at the end of this inglorious tunnel. For all that it had done for him now. But this didn't give him pause to relent, it didn't stop him from allowing that love of combat to begin to pour into him from the damnedable Arcanist blue-blooded cells of his.

The world around him seemed to slow down, or perhaps his senses had just sped up. The knife was chucked backward, and without lifting the hand that was sipping on the tea he plucked it from the air with his other hand. And the Essentian had come on him. Sodding hell.

And as the Essentian moved to strike out at Colby's gut, the Brit had spun away.. tossing the hot-contents of his tea into the face of his assailant, so that the blow to his jaw never came. All of his was wired now. As weary of mortal harm to his being as he was, none of him didn't want to just lash out at this 'Superior' judging being.

By dodging as he had however, he had set himself for the Essentian to grasp at his throat. To raise him up. It took a considerable amount of restraint to keep from calling out. To keep from having his hands reach for that powerful muscle that held him.

“Why bother, if being here isn’t what you truly want?” The words quiet and so to the heart of the matter, set further fuel to the fire. Green eyes must have blazed brightly, because he gave no hesitation in bringing the ceramic mug crashing as hard and fast as his magically enhanced body could. At the same time, the knife in his other hand would come throttling down toward the Essentians eyes.

Colby didn't wait for these outcomes to send his uplifted right leg right for the manhood that the body before him had... The other leg trying to kick off the counter to bring the two of them down and toward the ground. It was through grasping breathes, as air struggled to make it into his lungs that Colby spoke, for the first time amongst any of the strangers gathered.

"Because....." Gasp, sputter suck in air.."Death...is...hardly...freedom." Thats why he had attacked. This man meant to make slaves or corpses of them, just as Arik had before him. None of it was appealing, but the brutal death that they promised to deliver themselves or deliver them unto was worth fighting against.


“He’s in review. None of you have proven your worth; he’s failed to even lead you on a mission against the Kreelocks. He’ll be dealt with accordingly.”


It was those words that had brought onto Colby's mind the understanding, this was another Essentian. Clearly, this wasn't going to end up being a favorable ending. This situation was hardly favorable. Whether or not the Essentian would be affected by Tobias attempt at distracting attempt at drawing his focus from Colby, was hardly the focus of the young Shaper.


(-1 Spellpoint((i think))- Battle Harden?))

Colby Miller
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Transmutation

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Gabrielle Sommers on Mon Apr 05, 2010 12:57 pm

The Keep


Gabrielle was taking in what was going on and trying to stay out of the attacker’s range of reach but she had a feeling that if he wanted he would have attacked her already. He didn’t and that worried her for a split second till her arm was grabbed. The part of her that was attached to her power woke up it seamed and she could feel a change in mood. This wasn’t her but it was at the same time it was her and she wasn’t going to think about it. Being drawn into the back of the room with the other women behind Tobias was enough to make the side of her that was waking react.

Without so much as thinking about anything else in the room she looked at the table and gestured with her hand the direction she wanted it to go. Her eyes locking with Xakiel she spoke one word, “Throw” and without warning the table came to life and was thrown at him. It wasn’t nearly as heavy as it once was for it was flamed but still heavy enough to do damage if it hit the intended target. She was angry and she felt the manna boiling in her veins.

Speaking right to Xakiel she let him have it, “You’re lack of consideration for the human vessels that are in this room is sickening to me but you don’t see me throwing a tantrum just reacting to your attack. We are each other’s strength separating us will be to your disadvantage.”

She stepped out to be just right behind Tobias her eyes locking onto Xakiel as if to will him to stop this senseless attack. To her the violence that was being displayed was pointless and downright rude she wasn’t going to tolerate him much longer if he wasn’t going to stop.

“Arik may have failed to lead us on any missions that you might see as significant but he was teaching us things you can’t even grasp with the mind you have left inside. His review will go in his favor and you will be put in your place. Attacking students just barely on the path you have been traveling for decades you should be absolutely ashamed of yourself attacking your allies.”

This wasn’t like her to speak so outright with the tone none of the less of someone who had far more experience then she did. The part of her that was awake right now had her brown eyes lightened to almost a gold color and her body ready to defend itself even though she had her hands on her hips and was just looking at him like she was ticked off beyond what she was leading on. Any chance he may have thought he had to charming her was gone, and she wasn’t going to be in the shadows anymore.

(-1 spell point: Telekinetic Force)

Gabrielle Sommers
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Transmutation

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Gideon Shaw on Mon Apr 05, 2010 3:39 pm

Mount Whitney, CA –Arik’s Keep


The fight was on that much was clear. Even someone like Gabrielle who always was the quiet one not to make ripples in the water stood up to defend those she all of a sudden considered to be the source of her strength. The emotions of the battle were raging as their adversary was stepping things up. Sure Gideon was scared, the single sight of seeing a man take a knife to his throat, cut up his larynx and pull it out in one fell swoop before descending on the one who threw it. It seemed all their lives were in danger, but they wouldn’t be able to escape so easily. Even with Tobias attempting to deafen him. They were in the fight, and Gideon couldn’t tell whether it was his heart changing along with Gabrielle’s to one that valued the fight and would stand against the stranger Xakiel or simply his desire to protect those he knew and came to befriend ever so slightly, but he stood ready to move in not willing to ask questions any longer.

Gabrielle’s speech had motivated him to follow suit with the others. This man was clearly something powerful and could not be stopped by just one man, but the transmuters had stepped up and would be taking the fight to him. Even though Colby never seemed to be the type of step up for them, Gideon knew the man’s life may be at stake and they’d have to help him or risk losing a lot more than just the one man’s life. Once Gideon saw the charred table fly across the room he moved to strike. The mana in his blood seemed to rise to a boil guiding his movements, his motivations, and his drive, which focused on the lone target of Xakiel. He knew what he’d have to do, but he’d have to move quickly.

Taking off into a run the young doctor seemed to sprint directly for the essentian his eyes focused on him and his brain began to process the timing of everything. His heart began to flutter and the emotion in his face soon became as cold as iron. Arik had taught them well and while they haven’t fought Kreelocks directly the silver dragon helped them untap powers the likes of which they never could imagine themselves doing even after understanding the nature of their powers. Gideon had only done this once or twice with various results, but now that the lives of his friends were being called into action he had to act. Eventually as he came in range of Xakiel he brought his hand back ready strike at him just as the others attempted only with his power of transmutation he began to alter his being.

Flesh and bone would fade away replaced by cold dense metal, the fair skin that covered his form darkened and grayed as organs stopped and transformed Gideon into a living colossus hardened of iron and thirsty for battle. With any lucky his surprise transformed leading punch would knock more sense into Xakiel than Jason’s strikes and if he was lucky he’d be able to rally the others to take up the fight.


(-1 Spell point +Iron body)

Gideon Shaw
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Transmutation

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What a tangled web?

Post  Danae Wrede on Tue Apr 06, 2010 4:56 pm

Danae continued to watch from the sidelines, the telepaths tossed items and the shape changers went on about their changing.. the Conjurer remained still and silent. If this man's insults were supposed to mean something to her? He missed the mark. She hadn't been around for whatever it was he spoke of, her arrival had been a bit late as far as that was concerned. She felt the energies tossed and bent to each of the weilder's Will. The dark eyes looked down for a moment and the soft sigh passed her lips.

Obviously it was expected to attack someone that had truly don't nothing other then cast insults and burn a table. A test so to speak? Though too many were allowing emotions to guide their hands. She had no intention of killing the newest instructor however it was becoming difficult to get answers or to keep things straight with tables and such flying about the room. The thread of mana was drawn and the Will infused with it to direct what it was she wished done.

Typically her first thought was of an animal when it came to conjurering. It was more her style then anything else. However that too was pressed to the side. The dark eyes lifted slowly to the man.. Xeikial? Ah well their attacker, so to speak . The call had been placed as the ink black tendrils rose from the floor at the man's feet. They slowly thickened while circling about the man's legs. Much like an octopus's tentacles gripping as it rose up, one..then another.. she kept it simple.. for now easier to control as four sprouted up seeking to hold the male in place. Well providing of course the man didn't teleport out of the way. Then well all this concentration would be for nothing but a nifty show.

She offered no anger.. no defining stance, just watching and keeping her mind on the task at hand.

( -1 Spell Point / black tentacles)

Danae Wrede
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Xakiel on Fri Apr 09, 2010 8:56 pm

[ we'll not be here much longer ]
[ the Keep ]

The scalding coffee did little to break his stride. As the tainted liquid remnants slowly trickled down his set jaw, azure eyes bore into his captive’s. Colby’s accent was thick as he choked out four words that meant little to the man grasping him tightly by his throat. He had no time nor had he consideration for the excuses or beliefs of the young Arcanists – his mission was to examine their ranks and lead them in Arik’s absence. Clearly, he had no intention of doing things the silver dragon’s ways. Where the blond being had treated them with kindness and friendliness, Colby’s own interpretations aside, he would watch over with the iron fist that the Ancients intended for them to be trained. Obviously Arikstrasza hadn’t been clear with them – they were in danger, and that didn’t include their current sticky situation. The war they had been thrust into wasn’t a choice they had; it was something they would be forced to embrace. In their cases, death was their only freedom. The war would be the freedom of their realm: that was their reward. Did the Transmuter not realize that he’d save a multitude of others if he only saved himself?

The sound of shattering pieces against his skull brought him back to his position at hand, the sound being the only thing alerting him to having been attacked. The force, as enhanced as it was with arcane magic, had caused him no pain; such was the benefit of being an Essentian. The powers bestowed upon one left little room for any other emotion or feeling. No Essentian body could feel any attack cutting into it, only light sensations that were a minimal representation of what any normal being would have felt. Arikstrasza must have failed to explain whom – or rather, what – he was to them, or what Essentians were. They were virtually indestructible; though they were not immortal, they were awfully close. The Ancients themselves were the ones capable of stripping their gifts from them, were the ones who had the power to decimate their entire being if they so desired. There had only been three accounts of fallen Essentians outside of the Ancients own disposal of their vessels: one fell at the hands of feuding families when their Essentian had turned against them; another was obliterated by its own kind after failing to follow its orders; the third had been ripped to shreds in its true form after bursting out of its human body to fight an onslaught of Behemoths. All three were prime examples as to why Essentians were meant to follow the rules set by their bosses.

He went to speak in response to Colby’s choked words, though halted as the long blade cut into his forehead, sliding in gruesomely. For someone who didn’t seem to be about violence, Colby surely was quick to resort to stabbing his enemies. A chastising smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, the blood pooling into his eyesight for a lovely depiction of insanity as he began to tighten his grip on the Brit’s neck. The grasp wasn’t held for too much longer; the high-pitched noise that filled his ears had him releasing his subject, falling to the ground on his knees at the frequency of the illusionistic volume. As he fell, the brunt kick of the Transmuter connected with his face, making a sick-cracking noise as it hit his nose and buried the blade deeper inside his skull. The blood dripped from his wound profusely, though it was paid little attention to as the charred object he torched earlier was thrown into his body, catching him off guard. The telekinetically pushed table connected with his back, scraping through his shirt and his skin, though it continued heading onwards – in Colby’s direction, due to his close proximity.

“Your lack of consideration for the human vessels that are in this room is sickening to me, but you don’t see me throwing a tantrum just reacting to your attack. We are each other’s strength; separating us will be to your disadvantage.”

The words of the female Transmuter caused laughter to ripple on the inside of his body. She spoke of nonsense. Their power rested within each other? Did she honestly believe that if they were separated, he would be at a higher disadvantage? They were hardly even a threat to him put together. Had they been more advanced, actually being taught how to wield their powers to their best advantage, he would have actually felt threatened. But, alas, they were exponentially weak in comparison to the strengths that coursed throughout his veins. His only true disadvantage would be an intervention from one of the Ancients themselves – even Arikstrasza, who was the nearest to his equal, was considered weaker than himself. Even the thought of the gaggle of idiots being troublesome to him was enough to erupt a twisted sense of humor within the being.

“ .. attacking your allies.”

He scoffed. Standing, he took notice of an angered Gideon stepping up to help his friends in a more offensive tactic. As he neared, his body sheathed itself in an iron exoskeleton, allowing his attacks to carry more force as the connected with Xakiel’s body. Each brute attack connected with a breaking clamor, as if the bones inside of his body were breaking with each hit. Attempting to move, the Essentian found thick black tentacles wrapping around his legs, firmly holding him in place to be susceptible to even more brutal force. For a brief moment, it seemed as if the Arcanists had gained an upper hand. Their saving grace would not last long; his voice, though weak and gargled, was perfectly audible to his assailant as he spoke.

“My turn.”

His arms wrapped around the iron-clad ones of the doctor, hands gripping tight along the makeshift armor to hold him in place to the best of his current ability. With the tentacles holding him in place, he would have to make the best of his own situation. Xakiel gave a crooked smile as his own body secreted an intense hydrochloric acid, skin leaking the fluid rapidly from his flesh. From his body to his attackers, the poisonous acid would hastily seep on its journey. The tentacles holding onto his legs would also be a victim of his power; the liquid angrily eating away at the source of his stationary confinement. A thickening fog of the same substance, which corroded anything close by, accompanied the secreted juice. His right hand reached upwards to grasp at the knife still deeply embedded within his skull, and with little effort, the cutlery was yanked from the wound. No longer would he be a morbid picture of a humanoid unicorn; the wound, while still bleeding and oozing acid, began to form new flesh, as if his skull had never even been stabbed into.

“You’re all boring me.”

[ -1 spell point; Conjuration; Healing spell. ]
[ -1 spell point; Acidic Secretion ]

Xakiel
Essentian
Essentian

Domain : Essentian

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Tobias Wakefield on Sat Apr 10, 2010 2:50 pm

The Keep


As the stranger fell to his knees, Tobias felt a certain satisfaction in his ability to wield these new powers. Of course, the feeling was fleeting. For just seconds after dropping to his knees and taking a kick to the face, which drove that knife further inside of his head, he was scoffing and standing. If one were to ask Tobias what this guy was, he wouldn't be able to give an answer. What could they do? The man seemed impervious to physical attacks, and mental attacks only seemed to affect him slightly. Who was he? What did he want?

Well, it seemed as though everyone in that room might end up dead before they were able to find out. Suddenly the man's body was producing...was that acid? Jesus, it was. At least, some form of acid. Metal arms were being eaten into, and arcane tentacles were being destroyed by it. Still standing in his place next to Danae and Gabrielle, Tobias started backing away further, the acid seeping along the ground in their direction. Those closest to the stranger...well, Tobias couldn't help all that much.

It seemed the stranger's thoughts were right, Arik had not trained them well enough. But to be fair, every one of them was so new to this world that it was a miracle they had made it this far. Or was it...? Brows furrowed in thought for a brief moment before set about getting some attention drawn on himself, all the while continuing to back away from acid. The man took multiple knifes, a few hard shots from a metal body, and yet he continued to stand without problem.

Now that everyone had given it the ole' college try and failed horribly at even weakening the being, Tobias was going to resort to talking again.

" 'Ey! " Tobias mentally prepared himself to cast another spell if the stranger's attention was put squarely on him again.

"Now I ain't the quickest horse 'round here, but you got other motives, ain'tcha? With everythin' I've seen in the last few minutes, ya coulda killed us and been gone ten minutes ago...butcha didn't. Why?"

That was the only logical conclusion the Texan could make after everything he'd seen. They were children to this man; nats, annoying mosquitoes, and he was holding back...being gentle. The ashes of the dinning table were proof enough of this.


Last edited by Tobias Wakefield on Tue Apr 13, 2010 3:50 pm; edited 1 time in total

Tobias Wakefield
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Illusion

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Why the burritos!?

Post  Artis Wilhelm on Sat Apr 10, 2010 9:24 pm

[The Keep, duh.]


Out of the frying pan and into the fire. Such a quaint coinage to describe this situation. Because quite literally the shit had just hit the fan. If it weren't for trying to hold down two jobs and accustom himself to bright sunny "California" well Art would fill more inclined to show up on time. To say the least, he was playing the part of Oskar the grouch. Probably smelt like him too. Seeing how the Ancients and Essentians practically dragged him here kicking and screaming had nothing to due with his mood either. Who was he kiddin? It was a nice change of venue, the food wasn't bad, and he was still drowning himself stupid every night. Call it artistic inspiration. His muse being a fifth of jack and a bottle of rum. But we all have our problems, don't we?

Which couldn't be more true as he felt himself being whisked through the teleporter into Arik's keep. Brought a whole new meaning to "Beam me up Scotty." The American-German was expecting that familiar scent of breakfast burritos, it really helped him to know that the blue-eyed (was he blue-eyed?) blonde-haired Hanson twin look alike cared (talking about Arik here people), but sadly Xakiel decide everyone needed to go on a diet apparently. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, but more importantly he wanted a god damn breakfast burrito. Instead all he got was a seriously pissed of Dragon and a bunch of misfits bickering and pointing fingers... somewhat. Still everyone had their two cents, who was he not to chip in?

"The burritos? Why the burritos?"

Sure it was stolen, but someone had to lighten the mood. Taking a moment to survey his surroundings he'd guess some pyromaniac destroyed the dining table and a really bad attempt at mix martial arts was going on... so he just had to ask.

"Where did the Den Mother go? What's with the smell? Why does the table look like someone was playing with matches? Who is this guy, and you all know only you can prevent forest fires right?"

Oh yes he was cheesy like Velveeta. Idly scratching that nose, the rag-tagged dressed lush just stood there. No need to rush into a situation he knew nothing about. Best to come at it like a tactician. Was he daft, at least that's the appearance he wanted to give off. Nope didn't take long before that busy, busy little mind of his was going every which way. Putting two and two together.

A very long and drawn out sigh parted his moist lips. Reaching into his pocket, Art's retrieved a pack of Marlboro menthol 72's. Somewhat hesitant to light up, but with all that was going on to hell with it right? It wouldn't be long before his teeth where clamping down on the butt of a smoke. His hand cupping over the end of that cigarette as the sounds from the flint sparked again and again.

"Since this scene is going to hell in a hand basket.."

The words muffled as he tried to talk past that cancer stick that limply rested on his lips. A stream of smoke shout out from his flared nostrils, before billowing and being whisked away by some random current of air. Why did he have to come in today? Christ calling in sick works, why didn't he think of that? Just some excuse to free him from more needless shit shoved down his throat. It was really trying to be an adult sometimes. He just had to take a moment to himself. It showed to, albeit somewhat. Kneading that forehead with a palmed hand as he shook that shaggy hair to and fro.

You may ask what was with all his mannerism? Well he didn't just talk the talk for nothing. As said, for all one's faults there has to be a silver lining. Artis was pretty good at the theatrics. Not giving himself away. That was until a snap of the fingers and a shit eating grin had him throwing his own mojo around. Working will into reality, the arcanist began to tug if not right out pull the strings of fate. What was once intangible became tangible, translucence barriers began to form around Xakiel, solidifying like shards of glass. It was really reminiscent of Superman and the phantom zone.

"Best to cool off for a little bit."

Was all he had to say for now.


[ - 1 spell point; Abjuration; Stasis Field. ]

Artis Wilhelm
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Abjuration

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Everything and the Sink

Post  Colby Miller on Sat Apr 10, 2010 10:22 pm

“It is inevitable that some defeat will enter even the most victorious life. The human spirit is never finished when it is defeated...it is finished when it surrenders.”
The Keep

Battle. Colby had given himself to it. Had let it fill his pores, and deepen his senses. And slow as it seemed to be going, the pain of trying to draw deep breathes wasn't lost to him. The sickening understanding that his opponent was entirely immune to his assaults.

Then that silver blade drove into the man's head. And nothing. There was no halting. There was no pauses, as he felt that grip tighten. He was sure somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, where the pleasure that battle had given to the Transmutation Domain didn't quite reach, that he'd puke from having that image burned into his psyche. That nights would be just a little shorter on the sleeping end.

Typically, Colby didn't like violence. Typically, he was against using knives, and guns, and attempting to gut people. Typically, however, he'd be in London... sipping on a fine stout Guinness, watching a game, talking to friends, hoping for a bet to come through. Typically, he'd not be staring into the eyes of an immortal being. Typically, he'd not be in a room filled with beings of immense power. Typically, he'd not have a knife floating with the power of his mind, and a fire started from thin air. Life For Colby, for these men and women here, had taken a leap off the typical end. Who they had been, the lives they had lived... these things were done.

Colby had long since pondered this. Had long ago understood and come to terms with the fact that even if he managed to come free from the chains of the Ancients shackles, he'd never have a normal life. Freedom for him was a state of mind, a place of being now. There was no family to go back to. There had hardly been any friends who could have been his rock, who'd worry about where he was two months later. The night his Papa had died, he might as well have died too... Hell, Colby had died... all that remained was to stop moving. To Stop breathing...

Which was right about the point that the Essentian finally released him. A well placed kick seemed to send Colby sprawling back onto the counter, gasping for air. Greedily trying to draw much needed oxygen inward. Defiantly trying to keep from looking at the blood that had splattered and dripped onto his hands.

Perhaps that was the reason he had looked up just in time to see the burnt shards of a wooden table crashing into his being. Pinning him harshly between the counter-top and the table. Another gasp left his lips, glad he had become battle hardened. Glad that the extra strength it gave him, made it so that wooden table didn't outright break him. Drawing more deeply for air, green gaze was able to discern that the good Doctor had gone in for a brutal metal swing. Which, apparently didn't hurt Xakiel much, even as he was being locked into place with black tentacles.

Tobias was speaking something logical, something that made far too much sense for Colby. But to hell with those words. He wanted a fight. For two months he had fumed. Had hated every second, had bitten back grieving and bitten back a hatred that raged in him because Arik had taken him. Because some cold-blooded monsters had killed his Papa. Because fuck if he wanted to wage a war... war had been laid before him. And now Xakiel was the perfect manifestation of all those things in his life that were cold, impossible to beat, and totally unmoving, so he'd get the brunt of this Shapers anger.

Colby tossed away the table, rolled closer to the sink, and was surprised again just how strong the magic had made him as he ripped it, and piping from its holdings. Water splashing and spilling outward rapidly.

“You’re all boring me.”

“You are hardly a barrel of laughs yourself!” British accent to be heard in full. “Heres a joke for you, A room filled with Americans and only the Brit seems to want to be free!”

Which was about the time that Colby came rushing inward, noticing the acid fog and secretion that had come from Xakiel's body, a cold knot of understanding made itself a note in his being as he grasped the pipes and sink with both hands and swung for Xakiel's head like he was swinging a ball out of Fenway Park. Like he was aiming for the bloody stars.

Hopefully that would have been enough to free Gideon, because the acid had already started to burn his flesh, burn into black shoes and Colby had to dart backward right after he swung. Which was about the time, that Arty the Theatrical Drunk, had come in. Using his magic to block up The Essentian and giving Colby a second to think.... Dropping the sink, his hands dripping wet from the water that still poured from the pipes, his brows furrowed.

“What in the nine-circles of Bloody Hell do you want from us Demon?” Of course, by now, Colby had thought he knew what this man was. Deadly yes, but he knew so well of Arik's whereabouts. Knew more than one Domain of Magic... What lessons Arik had taught them, had made him well aware that few beings could take as brutal of a beating as this one was, if they weren't Essentians.

Colby Miller
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Transmutation

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Danae Wrede on Sat Apr 10, 2010 11:25 pm

Danae let the tentacles do their work while the others hammered on the being. She could have called him a person, but well, that didn't seem to exactly fit. As most persons were associated with the mortal. And after watching the blade sink into his throat.. and heal. The blade into his head.. and heal.. take abuse that would have fell a pissed off bull elephant as if it were nothing she wasn't entirely sure what they could do against this creature. She spared a glance to the fellow that came in and threw up the containment about the male. Her eyes flickered among them all as Tobias attempted reason, and Colby looked as if he were going to knock the male's head off with a sink?

Well , this was one for the books, that was certain. She finally moved a bit toward the group gathered around the male. "We should get those injured away .. can anyone else conjurer? "She asked softly, still a bit unaware of what people she was with was capable of. The dark eyes flickered to each that was standing about before turning her attention to the lingering fog beyond the containment. She stared at if for several minutes and released the thread of mana once more with the hopes she could neutralize the acid within it before it caused more damage. There was a small prayer in the back of her mind there was another conjurer about, if nothing else to help heal the few that had been injured.

( -1 spell, neutralize poison)

Danae Wrede
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Jason Price on Sun Apr 11, 2010 1:01 pm

Arik's Keep


Everything happened in the blur of movements that to the common eye it may have been difficult to keep up. But with the sudden disappearance of Arik and the mysterious appearance of Xakiel, Jason had his doubts. Trust was a luxury that had to be earned and as such, this stranger had neither earned it or welcomed it. Unlike some of the others Jason could be proven dangerous if cornered. His methods were unpredictable, ruthless, and deadly. Which made him an asset to have in combat. But the Enchanter wasn’t ready to show off his blossoming powers just yet. If anything he was trying to divide and conquer the clever and cunning Essentian. Especially while others of his team attacked or inquired to the where about’s of Arik. Something Jason didn’t waste time with. His survival instincts had kicked into high gear and he didn’t have time for petty questions. It was kill or be killed and that’s exactly how he saw this situation.

As Jason slide across the polished hard wood floor in hopes of tripping Xak, he found the Essentian vanished in an emerald ray of sparkling lights. The tactic was clever but Jason had carefully stared at the floor board looking for a shadow to loom over him or behind him. His quick thinking would allow him to land a solid punch landed with the square line of Xakiel’s jaw. Back pedaling to provide space, Jason had noted this guy felt no pain. Or if he did feel physical pain he concealed it well. Jason had felt his knuckles connect with skin and bone. Usually he would have done some real damage but instead he would be on the receiving team. A brutal punch would sail into the Enchanter’s stomach, causing him to cough and gasp for a breath of air. The wind momentarily stolen from his lungs leaving him in a vulnerable position.

With Xakiel’s attention now steered clear to each of the others, Jason would regain his composure. Each one of his peers would attack the Essentian with a powerful spell or form of combat. Jason quietly observed and noted that physical wounds had immediately healed so combat was a waste of time. Mentally commands had minimal effect so they needed something stronger to penetrate their attacker’s mind and spirit.

Once the poison had been neutralized by Danae, Jason’s eyes would illuminate into a dark brown. "No Conjurer here, just Enchantment." His body would surge with energy and mana. The young Enchanter would focus his power on granting a single ray that would not only daze Xakiel, but it would also cloud his mind. This powerful spell would allow no movement, the ability to cast spells, the usage of mental abilities, and other abilities the Essentian possessed. Everyone in that room was tired and exhausted.

Yet, Jason didn’t stop there. The mana would flow a second time in a short lapse of time. The power wielding through his athletic body was intense. The cunning Enchanter would cast a second spell to answer the inquiry they all wanted, a zone of truth. The spell would cause the Essentian to avoid answering questions with deliberate lies and intentional lies. Of course, being an Essentian it was possible for Xak to avoid answering the question or could be evasive as long as he spoke of the truth.

“Who are you? Why are you here? And where is Arik?” A rapid succession of words fell across the Enchanter’s lips. He knew the spell would only last one minute so he had to be quick about the questions he asked
.


[ -1 spell point; Bolts of Bedevilment. ]
[ -1 spell point; Zone of Truth ]


Last edited by Jason Price on Tue Apr 13, 2010 10:55 am; edited 2 times in total

Jason Price
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Enchantment

http://jason-price.insanejournal.com/profile

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Gideon Shaw on Sun Apr 11, 2010 1:45 pm

Arik's Keep


Had he had a heart it’d be beating with newfound ferocity. If he had veins they’d be filled to the brim with adrenaline and boiling with rage. And if he had lungs he’d savor every breath of the battle, but Gideon had none of those, he had become flesh made iron, man to golem, a living piece of iron dedicated to battle and war. That didn’t stop him from taking a great deal of joy in his actions. Every strike and every blow to the stranger’s skull rattled with such force and intensity that he could feel the bones within his head fracture and splinter under the force of his heavy hands. He couldn’t explain the rapture his body swelled with knowing the damage he had done to this man who had so violently disrupted what was suppose to be a smooth breakfast and training exercise. And then it all turned to hell quickly.

“My Turn.”

Gideon heard the words and wasn’t sure what to make of them until it was too late. It was as shocking as if a corpse had risen from the ground and latched itself onto him. This man by no measure of what they had learned about should have been able to pick himself up and grab onto him with such strength and force. Cold iron eyes would just look to Xakiel for a moment in shock before he struggled against the man’s raw strength. Gideon’s own had been enhanced and with Xakiel still bound by the black tentacles, he may have been able to break free eventually, but that was when the acid began to creep from his attacker’s hands and seep its way onto his metallic flesh. His body, now naturally resistant to most forms of pain and punishment was dull to most traditional painful sensations, but he still felt the creeping burn of acid fill his arms.

Had Gideon touched such an acid in his normal state, his arms would have burned a blister most likely loosing a great deal of flesh as it burned him away. Luckily while his body was living iron the acid would erode his metallic skin much less than normal leaving Gideon with mild burns once he returned to his fleshy form. If he couldn’t break away though there was no telling what would happen to him, the acid may eventually damage him all the same if he couldn’t get away. Luckily his escape plan came with a distraction, namely Colby and a sink. Using his own strength against the stranger’s he rolled back away from Xakiel hoping to get whatever remnants of acid off of his form to better protect himself once he reverted to normal.

It seemed Tobias was being the voice of reason for this group. The small group of arcanists couldn’t seem to slow this guy down let alone actually destroy him, which meant they had better figure out what he was doing here exactly and what did he want with the small troop. He could only hope that Danae, the conjurer who still seemed to not know those around her was capable of eliminating the majority of that acid. As the only true injured in the room seemed to be himself and Colby momentarily. The transmuter was filled with battle rage and wasn’t even using his magical talents to attack this super man.

Now the group seemed on the edge of destruction unless this guy decided to stop his assault. Gideon could only stand by Tobias across from Xakiel ready to listen to what the man had to say. He maintained his iron form at least until he knew the acid wouldn’t do him any more damage once he was flesh again.

Gideon Shaw
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Transmutation

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Danae Wrede on Sun Apr 11, 2010 9:53 pm

No Danae wasn't fully aware of what everyone was capable of, she had been spending time getting acquainted with the new awakening of abilities. A flaw on her part, understandable but there was a reason she had asked this question in particular. It was now within Xakiel's hands it seemed as to next step within this play. She had fallen back just a little from those facing him head on. She waited for the answers, if any would come at this point. She held off with any other spells currently, slowly rebuilding her own mana levels for the spell that would be formed next. While one man was in scrubs, it seemed better if she waited for this all to be complete before attempting a healing spell.

Since there was a good possibility this wasn't completely finished. Patience was a virtue, an annoying one , she'd admit but a virtue all the same.

Danae Wrede
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Gabrielle Sommers on Mon Apr 12, 2010 3:06 pm

Arik's Keep


She didn’t want to let anyone down so the man’s reaction to their attacks was more or less an indication to her that he might just be out of their current state of being able to beat right now. Dropping to her knees then to her stomach she hugged the floor tightly and prepared herself for an escape as the acid cloud enveloped the room around him. Seeing that he was no longer wounded she only wondered what their powers would do once they were strong enough to control them all the time and not be so attached to worldly view points.

This was the beginning she could tell of what she didn’t know. If the man wanted to kill them then she had a feeling he would be doing a great disservice to the others who were depending on him to pick up where the silver dragon left off teaching them. She had been warned when she was little not to trust people and he was just proving it over and over again that she should have never trusted the man who lead her here who introduced her to this all. She should have just remained drifting it would have been safer than this.

Closing her eyes she just breathed in and out focusing in on that. If she stopped then that would be the end and she wouldn’t have to worry about this whole mess anymore. Unlike the others she wasn’t going to fight him not when he was clearly out to kill them. She had a death wish to blend into the background, to be normal again, anything to clear her mind of everything that was running into it. Not attached to the people there not attached to the man attacking them she just breathed and waited for the logical end to this all.

Gabrielle Sommers
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Transmutation

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Plotline on Mon Apr 12, 2010 4:32 pm

UNDERGROUND | PRISON
SEWER SYSTEM, NEVADA


Darkness blanketed every inch of the barren compound as the air tasted thin and stale. In the distance, sounds of low grunts and drips of water would echo against the stained walls. A loud crash would be heard as one of the cage doors were slammed shut. No sunlight ever reached the cages--only the dull, flickering lights up ahead would offer any form of illumination for the prisoners kept inside. Each cell had been spread out and there was little to no contact between the those who rested inside. Everyday, one of them would be dragged from their cell by one of the monsters that had put them there. There was never any explanation as to why any of them were there, but they were kept alive. The hall they were dragged down was narrow, pipes lining the ceiling. At the end, the creature would turn right then left. A metal slab rested in the middle of a circular room with chains dangling from it's sides and a strange looking orb would be placed at the head. Each captive would find themselves strapped to the table with no where to go. And then, they would be left alone and slowly their energy would be drained--no screams were ever heard.

Eventually one of those things would return and the prisoner would be thrown back into the cage without a second thought. They would be too weak to fight, too tired to even think how much time had past or where they were. Whatever it was the Kreelocks were after, no one knew. Over the course of two months, the Horde had gathered those helpless few who had managed to lose their way to the path of enlightenment. None of it made any sense, but the idea of some otherworldly demon had been mutually accepted over the course of time. Childhood nightmares were a thing of truth and fact, not superstition or lore. Their captivity could be described as mental and slow emotional torture--they weren't killed or beaten unless the beasts were met with resistance. After a session, they were left barely hanging onto their consciousness by a thread. As time rolled by, the captured arcanists would gain back their strength and when they did, the Kreelocks would be back for another. It was an endless cycle that just wouldn't end.

Plotline
Adversaries
Adversaries

Domain : Plotline

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Bailey Turner on Mon Apr 12, 2010 5:49 pm

Bailey lay exhausted on the floor of her cage. Her body was cold and she had bruises on her bruises from the fight that she put up. It amazed her that her protesting did her no good, that no matter where she kicked or clawed or bit she did not effect the thing that had come to take her to the strange room. She day dreamed about killing her captors and about eating at her favorite restaurant. She was starving. The creatures fed them but with the fight that Bailey always put up and how often she attempted to escape they punished her by skipping her cage. She wished that she could make the nagging hunger subside. She wished she could just go home. And she wished she understood why she was here.

Bailey Turner
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Illusion

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Gavin Mitchell on Tue Apr 13, 2010 10:19 am

Underground | Prison
Sewer System, Nevada


A low groan would reverberate from parched lips at the pain that sliced through his bruised and beaten athletic body. Dirt would darken his natural olive complexion from being tossed around like a rag doll from his cage to the frigid examination slab. Dark, crimson ringlets would adore his wrists from where the straps had cut into his circulation. Time had seemed to cease here and hell was frozen in place. Gavin Mitchell held onto life for dear life thinking of his twin brother, Skylar and his beloved mother.

Since Gavin was a young boy he had been trained in the art of hunting and combat by his father, Richard, who was a United States Marine. The few, the proud, and his mighty father. But no amount of training could prepare Gavin for such a grueling and agonizing pain such as this. The stubborn Conjurer held on daydreaming of being reunited with his family and close friends. Dull, olive eyes would cringe at the bright, well illuminated room. Both pupils would dilate upon the bright light striking them. His body was slammed into the cold slab of the table. A slow right cross would hurl at the creature but in the blink of an eye it had been blocked and something hard and heavy struck him in the side of the temple. The impact causing the Conjurer to see stars as he lay there dazed and confused.

The creature would move expressionless as their captor was hooked up to a device. The levitating orb in front of Gavin’s head would hum quietly. The only consistent sound would be the orb and the drip-drop of water. The stench of the cages could easily be detected with a long inhale of a breath. Stripped down to just a pair of black cargo pants, Gavin’s feet were cut and bruised from the harsh environment of the gravel and concrete. “Get off me!” He tried to thrash wildly but as the machine vibrated Gavin could feel the mana being drained from him. Both dilated eyes would flutter and threaten to close. “No.” A gruff voice argued, clenching his fist trying to hold on for dear life.

Minutes would click by in the blink of an eye and Gavin would be surrounded by a horde of monsters. His own vision blurry and unclear as he was unstrapped and picked up by his bicep as though he weighed a paperclip. The things seemed to make strange noises as if they were communicating to one another or making commends. Roughly, the larger creature would hurl Gavin from the slap as his feet slapped down onto the ground. An audible groan followed the Conjurer as he was dragged down the long hallway towards the cages. The creak of his cage door would sound and in a flash Gavin was tossed roughly inside. Bare, shoulders would collide with the cold, steel bars as he slumped down. The creature would slam his door and lock it before each one congregating to another section of the prison.

Shaking the dizziness from his head, Gavin would notice the female Illusionist next to his cage. “Bailey.” His husky voice hoarse as his thick hand would slip between the bar to reach for her. “You okay?” He croaked with a weak cough, tilting his head to the side to peer into her eyes. The two had become friends and both spoke of escape frequently. Both were resistant to the treatment of their masters. Thick fingers would tightly grip the dense bars, the blood in his knuckles would turn white from his tightening grip. “We will get out of here.” Gavin could feel his strength slow to replenish and return. One way or another they would get out of here or so he hoped.

Gavin Mitchell
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

http://gavin-mitchell.insanejournal.com/profile

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Bailey Turner on Tue Apr 13, 2010 12:17 pm

Bailey turned in her cage and reached her hand through the cage. she didn't want to speak. She didn't want to move. She didn't want to have to breath anymore, not to say she wanted to die, it just took too much energy to breath. "Gavin" She murmured and coughed. "how long has it been?" she whispered. It hurt to talk. Her throat was raw. She needed water. She needed food. She needed sleep. And none of those things were even close to coming. "did they hurt you?" she knew her thought process wasn't making much sense, but this place made no sense.

She thought back to the day when she had first started talking to Gavin. When they had moved her from confinement to the larger room. SHe wished she could see him. To physically know that he was unharmed. She had become quite attached to him, and she hoped he to her. She felt like the darkness was too consuming sometimes. Unless someone had night vision she doubted that anyone could see a thing. SHe coughed again and shivered.

She had realized early on that the reason she had been chosen out of so many to be kidnapped was because no one would miss her. Her father would be too drunk, her mother was dead, and her employer was too aloof to notice her absence. It wasn't as if the animals she cared for would call the police or file a missing persons. She had no hope.

"they'll come for you Gavin. Your family. They'll find you." She reassured him. Her once soft melodic voice had become so hoarse and strained that it almost was unrecognizable. She missed feeling clean. SHe missed combing her hair. and she missed private toilets.

Bailey Turner
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Illusion

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Gavin Mitchell on Tue Apr 13, 2010 1:33 pm

Underground | Prison
Sewer System, Nevada

Olive eyes would fight the urge to sleep as he overheard the soft, feminine voice usher his name. While Bailey’s voice may have been meek from all of the torture and the draining of their mana it was still good to hear a human voice, at least to Gavin. “It’s been awhile.” He murmured while his body trembled from the aftershocks of the treatment he had suffered. His body felt as though it had been microwaved from the inside out.

Slowly, the Conjurer’s vision would still and allow him to focus on the direction of the beautiful Illusionist. “Are you hurt?” He inquired, knowing Bailey was a fighter just as he was and both had suffered from their stubbornness and strong survival instincts. All they had was audible sound. Leaning back into his cage, Gavin’s broad shoulders would hunch as his breath still labored from his ordeal. It was never easy for either of them but both managed to use each other as a support system.

Glancing up towards Bailey’s voice, Gavin would shake his head. “Nothing I can’t handle.” He weakly smiled through the shroud of darkness at her but he knew it was futile to even look at her for neither one could see each other. The truth was Gavin felt as though he had been run over by a semi-truck and then some. His body never throbbed as badly as it did in the underground prison. Beads of perspiration would slither down his darkened five o’clock shadow from lack of shaving for the usually clean-shaven Conjurer. The cells reeked of urine, feces, body odor, and blood. To Gavin, he felt as though he had been a prisoner of war. Trapped and tortured by the enemy while waiting to be rescued.

Many nights Gavin had prayed to God for an answer but when none came so did his faith. No one would answer or even hear their plea’s. It seemed as though all hope had been lost. Gavin bit down onto his bottom lip at Bailey’s statement. “My family lives back in New York. They’d never find me.” He corrected morosely knowing the cold, hard truth. The chances of being rescued or found were slim to none. “I’m not giving up, though. We can break out of this hell hole.” He sat up feeling slightly more energized. God, what he wouldn’t give for a hot shower and a glass of ice water and a steak.

Gavin Mitchell
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

http://gavin-mitchell.insanejournal.com/profile

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Bailey Turner on Tue Apr 13, 2010 4:11 pm

"Gavin they will come. Someone will find us. I'm sure they're looking, getting closer and closer every day." she reached for him but found only air and she sighed. "Just imagine that we're on a big white beach in Hawaii. Bright blue waves. It's warm. Hear the crash of the waves Gavin. Can you smell them?" she closed her eyes and imagined it. "We're at a fancy resort that we can only afford because of the reparation money that we got for wrongful imprisonment. There's a waiter that wears a pair of black cargo pants and no shirt because it's too hot. He has to wear a tie with his name tag attached. He serves me a margarita on the rocks with extra lime and extra salt. And he serves you a cold beer. We're watching the sun set after a huge dinner at a five star restaurant. You ordered a steak medium rare with mushrooms and onions, and I ordered a palenta burger with all the fixings. You of course teased me all through dinner because I don't eat meat. And to punish you for being a brat and teasing me I spent the whole dinner teasing you about the maid that cleans your room checking you out this morning. I told you that I didn't know you were into the cougar thing... but she doesn't even count as a cougar since any cougar that lives that long must have been a saber toothed tiger at some point." She coughed and shivered more before she continued. " I have spent the whole vacation checking out your beach body and you have spent the whole vacation like a kid in a candy store, going on and on about the hot pieces of tail that are on the beach. We laugh and make cheap jokes at the surfing school classes. And we pretty much spend the whole time on the beach feeling warm and full and maybe slightly tipsy. Of course we did have that one strange drunken night when we ended up in bed together. But we've both sworn to not tell your girlfriend" she knew she was fishing when she added in the girlfriend bit, but it was all in good fun. "You bought her a pair of pink diamond earrings and a beautiful matching necklace because you're so filthy rich now. and she would have come with us but she had a court date." she paused for him to wonder if she thought he'd date a convict. "She's a lawyer and the date couldn't be postponed. So it's just you and me. On the warm beach, with too much food in our bellies. I've gained two pounds and you've gained five. but it's ok because we promise each other that tomorrow we'll run it off on the beach... but we won't" she coughed again this time harder and fell silent. Too exhausted to speak anymore.

Bailey Turner
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Illusion

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Xakiel on Tue Apr 13, 2010 6:28 pm

[ trashing the useless ]
[ the Keep ]

Slowly the clock ticked away moments of time he had been advised to waste before the mission was sent into effect. Though his true motives were hidden, he had no real reason to engage them in battle – everything he was doing was for his own twisted enjoyment. The ferocious flame that had started this all hadn’t been called for, true, but it was an explosive way to start things. If anything, the group of misfits should have been pleased that he was taking the time out of his busy schedule to grace them; attack-mode or not. He had given up the precious time out of his day to visit the mountaintop, and he’d be damned if he didn’t have a little fun with the inhabitants.

The secreting acids from his hands tore into the iron-arms of the Transmuter he was grappling. He didn’t fight it when the other pulled away; perhaps the attack might have been overstepping boundaries, but he had already broken the rules once his first flame was tossed. In his eyes, the ones surrounding him needed to be taught discipline and respect, needed to be guided to become stronger so that they could fight the war they had been thrust into. It wasn’t the most ideal of any situation, but it was the cards they had been dealt. The Ancients had taken a leap of faith choosing the weak humans to host a new generation of arcana; whining and moaning about it wasn’t going to get them out of danger anytime soon.

The barrier that was thrown up around him was child’s play. If the alcoholic Abjurer honestly thought that such a cage would hold him, he needed to be taught even more than the others. The urge to shatter the glass case on the spot came to mind; though the two compound spells that were placed on him afterward changed his tune. The Enchanter’s magic was what he hadn’t been prepared for; he had fallen into his own thoughts, letting them halt him for the smallest of moments when he should have been focusing on the task at hand. His mind was clouded; unable to speak, or even think very clearly, the Essentian found himself compelled to answer the questions being asked of him.

”Who are you? Why are you here? And where is Arik?”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to; it makes you seem ignorant.”

The mental spell that had been used was enough to get an answer out of the Essentian, though even in the weaker-magic being used, he spoke how he would’ve answered normally. The third question had been answered with his retort; in reality, he had already spoken of Arik’s location earlier. He wasn’t going to repeat himself, even under the influence of the Enchanter’s arcane gifts. The answers to the first to questions pushed against his lips heavily, threatening to spill over at any moment. The answer to the second question became too hard to hold back, and the words rolled off of his tongue without consent.

“I’m here to put you through Hell. If it’s demons you want, Miller, it’s Hell you’ll get.”

The second spell that had been cast by the Enchanter continued fighting against his tongue, coaxing him into telling them everything. Fortunately for the Essentian, his own willpower managed to break through the first bout of magic, freeing him from the ray’s withholding. With one question still left to answer, he wasted no time in spilling green energy from his arms; the magic exploded around him, hastily grabbing all around him and continuing to snake through the Keep itself. The green ribbons greedily wrapped around the bodies of the Arcanists, without consent, nestling them tightly within a strict confinement. His face was rigid as a bright light washed throughout the area – as it cleared, not hide nor hair of any magical user other than him was present. Cracking his neck, he whispered his name for none other to hear. Seconds later, he was gone.

The suffocating green light that twisted around each Arcanist held them tightly yet comfortably; no ill sensations would be felt as the warriors were sent forth from the Keep and to their new location. The warm lights licked wounds and caressed each body, healing every knick and scrape that had been caused during the previous brawl. In a way, it was a parting gift from the hellacious bastard himself. Restoring wounds and mana itself, the ribbons set the Arcanists down in the darkened, strange place that others had been prisoner to for months. With rejuvenated energy, they would soon find that they’d need it for whatever was to come.

[ -3 spell points; Conjuration; Mass Teleportation + everyone. ]

Xakiel
Essentian
Essentian

Domain : Essentian

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Gavin Mitchell on Tue Apr 13, 2010 8:27 pm

Underground | Prison
Sewer System, Nevada



It had been months since Gavin and Bailey had been brought to hell, literally. Months of anticipation and hope to be rescued and saved. But as time passed that hope had vanished and soon was replaced by doubt. Doubt of anyone ever finding the Conjurer or the Illusionist. It had seemed hopeless and futile and deep down Gavin knew that both he and Bailey would have to find internal strength to make it out of here alive and keep sane. The two didn’t always see each other. Usually he was sleeping when the Horde would take her to the examination room and vice versa.

Slowly, green eyes would close to fantasize the picture Bailey had projected between them. Quietly, he would listen and picture every detail she described. He could hear the deep crash of the ocean waves and a memory had been provoked. A memory of when he was just twenty years old and attending a High School beach party with some friends, his twin brother, and Lorelei Ashford. Gavin had grown up with Lorelei and she was like a younger sister to him, someone he protected from. Hell, he even punched out her boyfriend, Jeremy, that night when he saw the dumb jock making out with another woman. Gavin had been severely scorned for it by the Enchantress but Gavin didn’t seem to give a shit. The memory washing through his memory banks only causing a playboy smile to appear. He was a real bastard in school, only focusing his attention on cars, girls, and girls.

Bailey’s weakened voice echoing in Gavin’s mind, enough to snap him out of his reverie. “Yes, I can hear it and smell it.” His smile faded though at the reality they were trapped and likely to rot for all eternity unless they formed a planned and got the hell out of here. A frown encasing his rugged, handsome face, “Why can’t I have a hot waitress and you get the shirtless waiter? The fella’s don’t do anything for me.” His own unique way of cracking a joke to help lighten the mood while she offered a mild distraction from their heavy hearts and minds. A thick brow would rise at Bailey’s insinuation of the two being lovers or future lovers. “Is that all it would take, a few drinks to get you into the sack?” He teased her with a devilish grin while being his usual flirtatious self. “No girl is ever going to trap Gavin Mitchell!” He nodded passionately. Gavin had always been the bachelor and he accepted it. He had also never been in love before and doubted he ever would. He enjoyed his freedom and didn’t want to commit to any woman. Usually he had subjected himself to frequent one-night stands. His twin brother, Skylar, was more of the hopeless romantic and sappy guy who teared up at chick flicks. Gavin’s mind pondered his identical twin for a few seconds. “I may have to set you up with my brother if we ever get out of here. I like a girl whose a challenge.” Purposely adding a chuckle to reveal he was only jesting with her and not actually serious.

When silence engulfed the two Gavin wondered if Bailey had succumbed to slumber. He thought about calling for her name but didn’t want to wake her if she was.

Meanwhile, Gavin had been unaware of the rescue attempt that would soon arrive in the form of the new trainees. He would lean back against the cold bars trying to focus on his own Conjuration powers but he felt too physically and mentally exhausted to call upon them, yet. For now, Gavin would rest but he already had a plan in mind on how to escape.

Gavin Mitchell
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

http://gavin-mitchell.insanejournal.com/profile

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Jason Price on Tue Apr 13, 2010 8:46 pm

Underground | Prison
Sewer System, Nevada

Jason’s lips cracked into a wide smile as Xakiel’s voice echoed in the small room. The smell was working and the clever Enchanter would cross his arms across his chest watching and listening intensely. Words were ushered off the Essentian’s tongue quickly but also hesitantly. Xakiel had tried to side-step the questions but the spell was just too powerful not to receive some sort of response from their mysterious mentor.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to; it makes you seem ignorant.”


The Enchanter didn’t over any smart ass response but only remained stoic as the words and answers were exposed slowly but surely.

“I’m here to put you through Hell. If it’s demons you want, Miller, it’s Hell you’ll get.”


With the last cryptic response given, Jason would conceal the surprise radiating from his coffee irises. This didn’t seem like any jest nor had Xakiel even offered a glimpse of a smile. No, this guy was serious and Jason had already sensed it. The brawl they had all endured with him was only a test as the Enchanter would piece together the puzzle. They were needed for something, exactly what that something was he did not know.

Within seconds a torrent of green light would engulf each person in the room in a vice-like grip. Jason would struggle with a groan while grinding his teeth and clenching his fists. Had this been another test or some sort of retaliation for his spells? The crushing hold seemed impenetrable.

The scenery of the Keep faded as each of the Arcanist’s were teleported to a whole other environment, one that reeked of death. Perhaps this really was hell. The dense and dark environment a stark contrast to what he had been used to from the well illuminated Keep. Where had Xakiel taken them to and for what purpose? Jason’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness that enraptured each of them. Regaining his bearings as he didn’t recognize the place.

Jason Price
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Enchantment

http://jason-price.insanejournal.com/profile

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

Post  Danae Wrede on Tue Apr 13, 2010 9:14 pm

Danae had been waiting to use the spell to heal those that had been injuried.. now it seemed too late when the energy wrapped its unwelcomed grasp about her. The woman found her protest dying on her lips when the Keep itself faded from veiw and opened up into this wretched place. The scents assaulted her nose like nothing she had, had the misfortune of smelling. The only thing that was immediately recognizable was the smell of death. She lifted a hand to her nose and made a face , while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. The other hand immediately slid down to the cargo pocket and felt for the knife she always carried with her. Excellent.. at least she wasn't without something.

She gagged a little while looking around, keeping close to the group. "Anyone know where we are? "She asked keeping her voice soft and low as she turned in a small circle. Inwardly there was a slow gathering of the mana, turning it into a nice boiling pot within her core. Her mind filing through everything that may be of some use to them. However, for all that seemed to change within a moments notice, she couldn't help the overwhelming sensation of from the pot and into the fire, so to speak.

Danae Wrede
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Conjuration

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Smells like Teen Spirit

Post  Colby Miller on Tue Apr 13, 2010 10:21 pm

“Hell isn't merely paved with good intentions, it is walled and roofed with them”
Underground | Prison
Sewer System, Nevada


“I’m here to put you through Hell. If it’s demons you want, Miller, it’s Hell you’ll get.”

Hell, Strangely felt good. Like a possessive lovers embrace, the kind of comfort that reached deep into the soul, and stroked out the fires of life. This green light, for all its suffocatingly tight properties comforted him deeply. Seemed like a warm spring day, fresh in the outer counties of the U.K., only it ended oh so abruptly.

And reminded him keenly of his first experience with the Essentian Arik. A firm frown crossed his lips as the scent of death reached out, grasped hold of any lingering pleasantness and caused his gut to wretch, almost violently rebelling against him. Colby took several seconds to regain his composure, turning away from the cast of Arcanists that had just witnessed the darkest parts of Colby's anger. It'd have been an excuse beyond excuses to blame it on the mana that he could feel coursing powerfully through his veins. It'd be the perfect get-away to say, the Ancient's chosen domain for him, had given him delight at being in battle. Had caused him to react with violence.

Colby didn't need excuses, Papa had taught him better than that. His own anger, the nagging and longing for home...for freedom, from both the chains that bound him, the magic that coursed through his damned body, had given fuel to the wild fire of his heart. He struck out, because it'd make him feel good. Because it'd take him away from the reality of his current and damnedable situation. Here... in what he could only surmise was the bowels of hell, Colby had to face up to it. His life was forfeit till every last demon was dead, till this war was won.

Wasn't one life, or rather several lives, worth the millions they could save? What would Papa do?Green eyes, struggling to adjust to the darkness, managed to fall upon the group again. Licking his lips, he shook his head, pushing back brown waves.

"Anyone know where we are?"

“We're in hell. Our new Essentian, has clearly divined a lesson plan for us.” English accent ate through the silence that followed her question... Lean frame started forward, not really questioning anything beyond the simple facts that they could all understand.

This was hell.

It reeked of death.

Their new Essentian had talked about Arik's failure to take them on a mission against the Kreelocks. Presumably... Kreelocks were here. Which was both a startlingly frightful revelation, and a damned fine and dandy situation to be in. Colby still had some anger he was dying to let go of. If only he still possessed his Essentian smashing sink for a weapon.

The only way out, was forward, to divine what it was Arik's replacement wanted from them here, perhaps the answer to these questions were one and the same.

“I say mates, we tally forward... less, we add our own stench to this... delightful bouquet of aromas.”

A lopsided grin managed to catch his lips in the darkness, both hands rising up to fold together behind his head as he started the slow and steady march ahead. Almost certain, that somewhere in the distance, he could hear the wails and screams of the dead.

For what it was worth, Colby seemed intent on atleast making the best of their current dilemma for the time being. Perhaps the shift had healed a little more than just the wounds of flesh. Or perhaps it was just the understanding, that if the Ancients could create a being like The Dark Haired Essentian, then perhaps they were a touch beyond his current means of escaping.

But somewhere in this world, he was confident...beyond confident in fact, that there lay the secrets and power to break those shackles. Playing ball for now was the only route he could take other than death.

And Death was hardly freedom.


Last edited by Colby Miller on Tue Apr 13, 2010 10:22 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : I wanted to!)

Colby Miller
Arcane-Touched
Arcane-Touched

Domain : Transmutation

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Re: Wax On, Wax Off

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