OOC: Lee and Clicker collaboration power is GO!
BIC: Basilisk's eyes narrowed for a moment, and his threatening arm darted forwards. It grew, as if a construct without bone or any kind of constraint. It touched the very edge of Valon's throat, beneath his kingly chin, and then ceased again.
The abomination was trembling, the light in its eyes blazing more violently than ever. It furrowed its brow, the air around it screaming. Two gouts of blood and skin errupted from Valon's shoulder and chest, shallow but gruesome wounds. The light started to grow again, the eyes taking on the aspect of the sun, and then suddenly went dark. The back of the creature's head was ballooning out, at first cartoonishly, and then grotesquely. There was a tearing noise, lasting only the barest of a moment, and then everything turned white.
From below, it was impossible to perceive the full magnitude of the blast. It looked almost like a wall of azure, stretching out from the palm of the Lord of Dragons, and passing directly through the Fascere Order headquarters and even the mountain behind it. Though it had been constrained by Valon's willpower, keeping the attack from immolating the innocents below, they could still feel the heat radiating from it. Directly beneath the blast was almost like singeing oneself on a flame.
The heat and noise began to fade, the light dimming. Valon glared disdainfully at what was left of Basilisk, a charred corpse and a set of ivory jaws, still clamped around his arms. The last dwindling bits of the attack drew back around his arm, engulfing the remains of his foes. The azure flames shimmered slightly, black motes dancing through them, before finally being reduced to nothingness. He flicked the flames away, leaving his hand outstretched.
"And now, it is over."
-------
In the hallway below, Auguste was leaning against the wall, face towards it. His breathing was somewhat irregular, a few drops of sweat visible on the back of his neck.
"Boss?" The redhead queried, putting a hand on the man's heaving shoulders.
"I'm fine, Aythya. I'm fine. None of us are dead from that blast. Possibly a few employees that failed to heed the warnings about the coming battle, but I'm sure we lost nobody important. After all, the seers and such had us move most of the valuable merchandise out of the middle, there." Auguste turned to face the group. He was slightly pale, though in places his face was red. Most likely slight burns from being near the doorway when Valon had let loose.
"Personally, when they said that whole spiel about flames sweeping through and walls being knocked flat, I thought that it was going to be Nachoset and somebody. Or somebody dropping a cigar at the postgame party, butcha know. A gigantic bluey white energy whatsit is fine, too." Nopcsa smirked at Terrian, who seemed to be the only one present who was doing worse than Auguste.
"So that's what a Power can really do..." Garth said quietly, from behind Sly. He had stepped as far back into the hallway as he could manage without leaving the group, avoiding the sounds of battle and the smell of blood.
"Some of 'em. But most aren't really that bad. For example, I'm a Power, and I'm probably less dangerous than the usual guy with gun. Well, unless you give me a gun. Then I'd be a bit better off. But then again, you give a guy with a gun shoes like mine, and he'd be-" Aythya was cut off by Auguste's raised hand.
"Wouldn't he have to take his shoes off first, though?" Emily asked. A loud crash caught her attention.
Oblivious even to the apocalyptic destruction unleashed above them, Natalie and Nachoset were still at eachother's throats. Natalie had flung Auguste's chair at Nachoset, only to have him shred through it, and continue on a direct course towards her. Bits of fluff lingered in the air for long seconds, and were almost immediately immolated as the armored one burst into flames again.
"I know you, Helogale." Nachoset sidestepped a stab, flickering as the attack was turned into a slash. It passed through him harmlessly. He raised an arm, catching the returning blade on his spiked forearm. Sparks and chips of bone flew.
"Big whoop! So does the waitress at the Golden Griddle, but you don't see her kickin' my ***!" Natalie twisted, snapping off the end of the blade, and lunged forwards. Her weapon struck home, lancing into Nachoset's side. A bit of its broken tip jutted out of his back, blood pouring freely from the wound.
"I
know you, Natalie. You stole this power
from us, and still, are crude enough to make the assumption that we wouldn't know every..." Nachoset stumbled in agony, falling forwards. One of his blades skimmed Natalie's arm, cutting her slightly.
"Little..." Nachoset's arm lashed out, grabbing the warrior by her feet and pulling. She fell onto her back, hard. Even with how furious she was, Natalie couldn't conceal her shocked expression.
"Thing." He dropped to his knee, placing its vermillion spine againt the girl's throat. He extended his left hand, the broken remains of a charm bracelet dangling from it. With a snap of his wrist, he flung the trinket aside.
"You BASTARD!" Natalie roared, straining against the spine. Nachoset placed the palm of his right hand against her forehead, slamming her back into the deck.
"You're useless now. No more powers," Nachoset grabbed the hilt of the sceard blade, and slowly drew it out of his side. He hissed slightly as the jagged tip reemerged from the wound.
"No more weapons." He tossed it over the railing, into the forest.
"You're just a defenseless little girl, with nothing left to protect you. The only thing between you, and your well deserved
death is the fact that I'm supporting my weight on my other knee," Nachoset smiled, a bit of bloody drool rolling down his chin, "The one thing keeping you alive at this moment, Helogale, is the mercy of the Yalda Bahut."
"You think I'm scared? Do you honestly think I am?" Natalie glared at him, defiantly raising her head. She started to raise her arm, only to have it slammed back against the wooden floor.
"I know you aren't scared. Anybody with any measure of fear in their hearts would not have the gall to interfere in my work..." Nachoset's grin grew wider, "But I do know that you absolutely and truly loathe this. Powerless before your enemy, barely able to even raise your voice against them without risking death. You can suffer here, living out the worst of your nightmares, before I kill you."
Nachoset slowly began to lean forwards, the spine pressing into Natalie's skin. The girl shouted something like a strangled curse.
And then, Nachoset tumbled aside, bone chips flying from his armor. He rolled to his feet, catlike, and faced the new threat. The spike on his knee was clearly shattered, a deeper circle revealing where it had been hit. A large lump was forming on the side of his head, crimson running over his ears.
"You say that she had nothing, there. Nothing to protect her against your hatred, your blind rage over something she did that was totally right," Emily was tossing a hairbrush up and down with one hand, her other still rummaging in her purse.
"And you were totally, totally wrong. She might not have had anything of her own to rely on, but she had something better than that. She had her friends." She stood expectantly, the hairbrush taking a twirl to it on its next bounce.
"Is that so? I'll need to take that away from her, too!" Nachoset flickered, immediately transitioning into a full on charge at the girl.
"Emily, get out of here! You're not-" Natalie shouted, her voice ragged.
"Not what?" Emily stood her ground until Nachoset was mere feet away, and then threw the brush to the ground. The armored man lowered into a slash at Emily, and found himself falling short- and then falling flat on his chin as his footing rolled out from under him. Emily twirled away, flicking a fistfull of recipe cards at him. Each one hit home, drawing more red lines across the man's bare scalp.
He flickered to his feet with a roar, throwing himself into a lunging punch. Emily stepped aside, and her purse shot out, deflecting his swing. As he turned to face her once more, she tumbled past him, grabbing a chunk of brick that Valon's attack had blown free. She landed on her feet, and jumped backwards, clearing the stone desk and the unconscious member of the Fascere Order in one go.
Her opponent was swiftly after her, leaping over the obstruction, and slashing at Emily. His blades found their mark this time, but only skimmed her lightly. A brick to his shoulder had yanked him back at the last second, reducing the lethality of the strike. Another flurry of recipe cards struck him in the face, blinding him as Emily slid under the desk.
"Enough foolishness!" Nachoset snarled, and slammed his fist into the floor. A wave of fire exploded outwards from it. Nowhere near the magnitude of Valon's attack, but enough to blow Emily into the clear, and leave her clothes singed and a few whisps of hair glowing. She tried to jump to her feet, but her opponent was immediately upon her. He threw aside, the girl slamming into the wall of the headquarters. He followed immediately, catching her as she bounced back from the impact. He spun about with her in his grasp, bringing his armblades up to her throat.
"And that will be all. I know that none of you- AGH!" Nachoset cried out in pain. Emily had pulled a container of hand sanitizer from her purse, and crushed it into the side of his head. The goop was mingling with the blood of his myriad wounds.
He took a few breaths, stabilizing himself, and then tightened his grip on her.
"This time, I've got her. If any of you even try to help her, I'll rip her throat clean out. Do you all get that? This girl is going to die, one way or another."
Emily, more notably than at any point since arrival, looked downcast.