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[SS] Hazy Silhouette

+4
Sir Alexander Beathen
Erin Lightheart
Albrekka Starbright
Tougane Masaru
8 posters

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Post  Erin Lightheart Fri Sep 22, 2017 10:46 am


「It is said that love can make you see more things.
But I say it can also work in reverse.
It can blind you to things too.」


The detective looked skyward, trying not to draw attention to that cute reaction Millinda had to one of her notes. They were running out of time...


「Your husb Silas had hidden something in the city.
A dangerous, deadly thing. A desperation card.
Someone who knew him even longer than you was entrusted with it.
Now that hostile forces are swarming the city
Don't you think this object is what he will care about more than anything?
If we have it, he will come to us.」


She looked back to Millinda with a grim expression.


「And we're currently right in the middle of enemy territory.
So don't you see that if we are to get anywhere
It will have to be in a safer place
Where this thing can't harm anyone
And where we and Silas cannot be harmed either.
Shall we go?」


Grasping the box she held in her left hand awkwardly, she set out toward the northeast. She had a destination in mind, and hoped Millinda would follow. But what exactly lay to the northeast? Whatever it was, Erin had a goal in mind.
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Post  Albrekka Starbright Fri Sep 22, 2017 11:18 pm

Serveral minutes had passed.  The town was quiet.  Silent.  It was as if the fog had sucked away all life from the town.

Perhaps deep down, she had hoped that someone else would come.  But none came.  It was only the four of them against the potential power of a vampire.  One whose magic ability would obliterate them in an instant if they did not play their cards right.

Which, in this situation, was a bit too easy to do.

"I suppose I'll fill you in as we walk.  Though, to clarify first: I mentioned before that there was a 'man' I ran into earlier that was possibly tied to the cardinal; he attempted to kill me earlier tonight, though he seemed to have decided to leave me be.  I'm not sure of the reason currently.  So we're likely being followed or listened to."

It was strange.  She was going to do this despite that?

"This...vampire.  Most of the details regarding this incident have been kept under wraps.  Longroad seems to believe that the source of this vampire incident is up ahead.  Its an apartment complex.  None of its residents are there; they were all killed, drained.  Paul Oldturf, the man that died last night, was there.  Meaning we're walking to what is likely their makeshift 'lair', if you want to call it that.  There's no convincing evidence, yet, that it is actually a vampire, despite what is going on.  I'm actually a bit torn myself."  She would begin to share some of her musings as she walked, looking to the other three.

"It could be a vampire.  In that case, we will likely need to attempt diplomacy despite what would be the obvious.  A vampire cannot be killed, if we believe rumors.  I would prefer not to try it outright.  If it isn't, it could be that someone is attempting to invoke the concept of vampirism.  Whether or not that is valuable to this person in the way they want, I don't know."

Certainly, the entity in Whitby was either a vampire or it wasn't.  But the idea that, despite the attacks, that it would not be a vampire, was certainly an odd conclusion.  Yet, the idea of envoking a concept to make it real was the staple of all magic.  Perhaps this entity was doing something to this effect?

"Regardless, its safer to assume the worst.  It would be silly to say it now, but tonight might be our last night alive, considering.  But Whitby has had enough hardship.  If nobody will deal with the threat, I will."

Albrekka had many a reason to deal with the vampire issue herself; after all, the question of vampires was the sole reason for her stay in Whitby; however, the number of dead, as well as the gather of magicians, caused its own issues.  The quicker they were dispersed, the better.

"Lastly, Longroad seemingly had some plan.  What I don't know.  It seemed to deal with a potential 'bait'.  There are two candidates for that bait, in my mind, but I could be surprised by someone more involved:  It is either a friend of mine or us."

Even at this end, she could not rule out that Longroad had simply given her the details to make her the bait.  But that was fine.  Things needed to move to end the situation Whitby was in.


Last edited by Albrekka Starbright on Sat Sep 23, 2017 3:41 pm; edited 1 time in total
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Post  Sir Alexander Beathen Sat Sep 23, 2017 3:29 pm

Alexander had followed the girl as planned and walk through the fog of what has increasingly become a lifeless town. He didn't like it but more than that he needed not to see them know something was wrong. Sighing the young knight can only show that actions mean more than words.

But what could they do if they face a vampire? The reason he wanted to hear Moore's version of the story is to get an insight on what someone else thought back then. These creatures who's lifespan are seemingly immortal are impossible to match in a contest of magic. Maybe it was good then that he wasn't exactly a magician, but that wasn't exactly a silver lining either... but still..

All this had made him worry about those two other knights and children. The young knight was worried naturally and was almost considering to contact them. But he stopped before he even moved his hand...

"You need to trust them..." Alexander said to himself who had to show faith, since he expects it from those who follow to put their trust in him, the young knight must show the same to them.

And so they continued and along the way, their new companion started to explain the situation. Speaking about a man she met previously trying to kill her with possible connections to that bloody cardinal. And the mention that they may be followed was a concern, but almost impossible to tell in this damn fog. But considering the situation, the fog not only hindered them but also any possible stalkers.

So the situation isn't completely one-sided.

Yet as Starbright continued the topic naturally fell on the vampire. They were heading to the possible origin of the incident that brought life to the rumours of the vampire here in Whitby. The same place that Paul had also met his end left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Tsh.. I feel like this is a job we should've done a day ago." Alexander plainly spoke referring to the disaster that occurred at the police station. Back then the young knight knew from the rumours of Paul's movements had meant he was connected or at least onto something. But as Starbright finished the young knight observed the surroundings as with his hand on his scabbard, the young knight pushed the handle up with his thumb revealing a small portion of the blade which started to glow.

It only created a small light and barely pierced the fog around them. But it revealed the young knight's eyes glaring beneath his hood.

"Well my Lady, from experience nothing really goes according to plan. At least for us it seems we share the same goal, this town has suffered far too much for us to bare. People who serve her majesty are being slaughtered in their own homes is not only a slight on her majesty's honour but also this nation. We will all deal with this threat, but if it is us who are intended as bait then we better bloody hell get on with it. As I have no intention of making it easy for them." Alexander said with confidence, but only fools would ignore their fear. They were speaking about a possible vampire here who were basically impossible for mere mortals to match in a showdown. And for Alexander who studies the subject, knew enough exactly what the rumours of their strength mean. The very least they must practice caution and hope this endeavour will not cost more lives.
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Wed Sep 27, 2017 8:38 pm

There was an apartment building just like any other somewhere in Whitby. It was among a collection of buildings, a classic neighbourhood with nothing odd about it. However for some reason it had become the centre of oddity. While the lights of every building in its surroundings were turned on, that single apartment complex remained in the dark, entirely. Not a single nuance of light would be visible through the windows. Not a single sign of life would be noticeable. The building was dead. Entirely dead. So dead, anything except the wind’s howling would seem out of place.

It wasn’t just the building. The streets were entirely empty, as well. The fog made it quite hard to pinpoint anything in the distance, however even then it felt oddly lifeless. It hadn’t been that late at night, so the chances of people being noisy anywhere around shouldn't have been zero. Right here however you couldn't even hear the sounds of animals whatsoever. It was a dead neighbourhood, through and through.

Passing on, closing the distance on foot, the small group of three knights and a girl would feel a cold chill run down their spines. Something was odd. Something was truly odd.

The sound of a breath. Not from the far distance, but from quite up close. Suddenly to their flank something surfaced from the ocean of haze. No, it had been there the entire time. A person clad in an medieval looking black and red cape above a standard police uniform, mixed together like your average anime character cosplay. The voice was that of a man. However instead of standing, he was crouching on the ground, or lying even.

Under the golden light of the sword the colour of red would become visible. Blood was tainting the cape and uniform. He was in pain, revealed by the writhing. He was suffering immensely.

His blood-shot eyes would wander towards the new arrivals. The first thing his glance would meet were the armours of the three knights, then the beauty of the green haired girl. He chuckled weakly, then collapsed to the side.

«…so…that’s all we get…eh…»

Even an amateur could understand the man currently rested on the verge of death. It was hard to tell whether or not he would survive.


However that was hardly it. They didn’t know. They didn’t see. They couldn’t even have noticed.

Word was spreading once again. What had been spoken loudly somewhere, was silently carried elsewhere. It was told again, forwarded, spread out. From one place to another, until it had reached everywhere. And once that happened, it would of course invoke someone’s intrigue.

The eyes had wandered towards them. Someone’s? Something’s? Who could tell with all this haze. Whichever it was, the sight had fallen onto them.

They were watching.

☆☆☆☆☆☆
[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 11 Ck33tw5t
Richmond Longroad was watching something as well. That woman before him, Vasilisa, was most certainly impressive. Not only had she shattered his carefully prepared attempt at negotiating as though it was a porcelain dwarf, she even ridiculed the entire incident and its circumstances with the same carelessness she had shown the entire time. Doing that to someone of this high a standing under these dire circumstances would most certainly take guts beyond imagination. Looking at who this Vasilisa was and what her position in her organisation was, however, the amount of guts imagined here was just a grain of sand.

So what would someone like Longroad do?

He smiled just as dumbly as before.

«Heh.»

There was no better expression to reply to this. Even if he thought about it for hours straight, nothing better would really occur to him. So in the end that simple plosive sound was the most sufficient of them all.

Deal sealed?

«I’ll go along with this. Under one additional condition.»

With seriousness written all over his face the scruffy priest would smack the ball right back. He wouldn’t be a man of his position, if he didn’t know how to hold a negotiation in the correct ways. His face was stern, his demeanour serious and his true desires invisible. The eyes would disappear behind the bangs, creating the impossible to see through poker face that could very well be considered his pride. He was an illusive man defying all others of his kind. He was cunning. Cruel, even. And with that cruelty he would grab any opportunity to fight back. Vasilisa? The pope? The archbishop of the Anglican Church? Longroad would never allow for an opportunity to slip his fingers. The moment he held the means to attack, he would.

What was his condition? What was that final thing he had in mind? A long pause would serve to increase the impact.

«A piece of the cake.»

He announced, pulling forth a journalist’s most trustworthy tool: A high end camera, only carried by the most hard-nosed Comiket veterans.
Leivinia Birdway
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Sun Oct 01, 2017 9:11 am

The Roman Catholics were known for their zealotry. They would sacrifice whatever they had, all that was necessary and more for the sake of their faith. Because he knew of this, because he had encountered it in the past, Moore had held a vague sense of unease at his choice, even as he had resolved to make it. Worry over how the negotiations might go.

Now he saw that he had not worried because of their zealotry. He had worried in spite of it. Having met Coppolla, having heard of the cardinal's intentions, Moore was certain.

The alliance would work.

The madness within his partner's eyes did not dissuade him, but spurred him on. As an enemy, it would be a source of fear, a mad beast to be wary of to the utmost. But as an ally, the conviction Moore saw there was more reassuring than anything else.

"Correct on all counts, Cardinal. Which is why I'm all the more grateful that we were able to meet."

It was truly miraculous timing. There were clear motives and an obvious timeline that gave an alternative how and why to the theory that this was yet another set-up, but such things were no longer considered. This was his first and last chance, and he had already resolved to take it.

Moore's expression slackened as the formality bled away. The power in his eyes stayed the same, but his dignified posture was stained by his individuality. Coppolla found no need to hide his true nature, so at this point, he may as well return the favor.

"The Knights will assist you in the purging of magician's from this city, as well as the destruction of the vampire. Fog or not, we will crush anything and everything hiding away in it. ...As you said, we shall save Whitby."

Rather than purely a stalwart knight, traces of a beast who had finally caught sight of its prey emerged.

"Now then, it's a pain, but we need to talk on the details, don't we. This really isn't my forte." The initial ferocity faded somewhat, ceding its place to a more casual air. Respect was still given to his newfound partner, but it was his respect, not simply that of a Knight.

"The first exchange is obvious: manpower. Our forces will work together to purge all those who have intruded upon this country. ...But speaking on that note, only those who have intruded upon this country. Necessarius, for better or for worse, are still our allies, and the citizens... They shall not be touched." The tone of his voice made it clear that this was not something he was asking, but an ironclad requirement for their alliance. If it was not met, then no matter how lost Moore would be left... He would have no other alternative but to accept that.

"And the second exchange... Aside from the previous condition, we'll give you carte blanche to act. Under normal circumstances, you'd be a target just as much as the rest, but these obviously  aren't normal circumstances. In exchange, we ask for information." Desire was clear in Moore. In his eyes, his voice, his postureーthis was a beast staring down the one who held the keys to his cage. "Who is up to what? Where are they? What the hell is going on? More than anything, that is what the Knights need the most. If that isn't enough of an exchange for you, then just tell me what I can do to even the board."



«A piece of the cake.»

"The alliance is a go!!!"

Vasilisa stood quickly, knocking over her chair in the process, and shouted good-naturedly into the sky. This was pure joy, elation as if she had received a revelation directly from the lord himself!

...But the motives were impure as hell. Only two things reflected in her eyes now: the gothic lolita outfit (custom-fit for Sasha) that she had pulled from her bag once more, and Longroad's camera. A professional photographer, taking photos, of Sasha...?! It was enough for her to drool. No, wait, she was actually drooling someー

"...A-Ahem. Do excuse me~"

Composing herself with an embarrassed smile (that not a single of her subordinates believed was genuine), she righted her chair and sat back down, deftly wiping away the drool with a sip of her tea.

"So then, with that said, we need to discuss all the boring details before we get to the main course, don't we? Oh, so awful~ My Sasha-chan energy is running too low for this~" Giving a deep sigh, she turned to Sara.

"Well, it can't be helped. Sara-chan, could you do me a favor? Sasha-chan ran off, but she needs to be here for our photography session, and she's not going to answer my calls while she's pouting... So while we work this out, could deliver this to Sasha-chan and tell her the news? And as thanks..." Vasilisa leaned over, and whispered into Sara's ear like she was telling a secret. "You'll get to be the first to see her in it~"
Vita Vesta Caesar
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Post  Saravati Nair Tue Oct 10, 2017 6:25 am

Sara could not help but hold some mild disappointment when she realized that she was not the one who would end up all dolled up in some cute outfit. She was a burgeoning teenage girl, after all. Wanting to wear cute outfits was a natural desire for her in the end.

“So while we work this out, could deliver this to Sasha-chan and tell her the news? And as thanks...You'll get to be the first to see her in it~"

Though, it could also be said that she had definitely wanted to see Sasha in gothic lolita. If she was lucky, she could possibly be allowed to try it too—well, depending on whether the outfit fit her.

But, at this point, there was no need to even say what she was planning to do. The stars in her eyes combined with the donning of the spiritual items to expedite her chase and capture of Sasha were more than enough to tell her answer.

After tossing off only her footwear and leaving it next to where she was sitting before, she waved  towards the two higher ups, giving off a bright smile. “I’ll be back soon, then~”

In the next, she had already jumped through the hole in the wall at high speed to track the runaway blonde nun.
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Fri Oct 13, 2017 7:37 am

[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 11 Albrek16

Her eyes widened at the man's sudden appearance, but Albrekka calmly swept aside her surprise. This was clearly a situation where waiting would do no good. In fact, the longer they waited the less tangible any benefit to them or the wounded man before them would become. With how he had been coincidentally collapsed immediately before their destination, it was obvious that there was a connection.

"Strip his clothes, we need to see the extent of his wounds. If you have equipment for first aid, use it." Rushing would only lead to foolish mistakes, so Albrekka gave out calm instructions to serve as an example. A tranquil presence affects those around it as well.

In the meantime, she had approached the man. She had no idea what his identity or affiliation were, but with these injuries, it hardly mattered. And in the worst case scenario, she was certain one of the knights would do something about it. What mattered now was ensuring his safety, or if that was impossible, to at least learn all from him that she could.

"I'm sorry, I know that you're in pain." Her thoughts moved to join the stars for a moment, but she realized the haze disabled that option. "We'll do what we can to save you. But in the meantime, I need you to answer some questions for me. Without the answers, many people could die."

Albrekka had no idea what this man did or didn't know about the situation at large in Whitby, or what his own goals here were. She calmly explained why she needed to know what she did so that, regardless of who he was, he would have a fair opportunity to answer. "Who did this to you? Why are you here? And what happened here?"

She knelt by his side, ignoring the dirt of the street, and clumsily attempted to remove his clothes. She didn't know whether it was safe to move him or not, but at the very least they needed to verify the extent of his injuries.



[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 11 Sashai10

Despite her dramatic escape, it was never as if Sasha had a particular destination or escape route. If there was an Underground Railroad for abused subordinates to escape through, she felt certain she would inexplicably find that Vasilisa was the conductor.

She had moved at high speed, turning one corner or another with the goal of making as much distance from that image of hell she had witnessed as she could, but aimless running could only take one so far.

By the time Sara caught up with the girl, she had slowed to a purposeful walk to avoid unnecessarily standing out, and was considering possible destinations to continue onwards to.

The messenger's arrival was not un-noted; despite the quiet of the city, it was still more a place of danger than not. Sasha turned, with her hands resting upon the tools of her trade, warily prepared for battle. But when she saw just who it was, she calmly assumed a more neutral sta-

"My first warning: don't take a single step closer with that!" Correction: she drew her hammer and saw fully and assumed a clearly hostile stance. Voice raised so that it was clearly audible even from the distance that Sara had yet to close, her characteristically stoic tone was somehow filled with the ambiance of a warrior who had once again met their most hated enemy...
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Post  Sir Alexander Beathen Fri Oct 13, 2017 5:48 pm

The young knight never liked abandoned buildings or any place that felt lifeless. Looking around to what the haze would offer his visual sight he was appaled. How things had come to this in such a short time, and he knew that what was happening in this town was inherently wrong. But there is a thing about empty places there is a story to tell.

And the discovery of the oddly dressed man with a red and black cape with a police uniform underneath was warning signs. This neighbourhood felt dead, more then you would expect at this time and to find this guy here.

Alexander had a bad feeling there were being drawn in.

That police uniform though had made Alex think about Paul. He has been dead for more than a day, but that was only taking the words of Longroad. Alexander thought he never questioned Paul's death and events around it. But he had this strange feeling, that someone was tricking them all. It was like something was missing this entire time and the only people they have met were other groups.

All drawn like a moth to the flame.

And so Alexander drew his golden blade from its hilt and knelt down beside the wounded man being tended by Albrekka. "This entire thing feels like we're being baited, but I can't just let him die." Alexander had said wanting his fellow knights and Albrekka to be aware. "So Sir Wortham and York stand guard and be ready just in case. Ms Starbright allow me." Alexander had said still holding his sword in his right hand he reached out with his left that normally was used to hold his shield.

The sad fact is that if this was bait, then they probably knew Alexander would never abandon someone who was wounded. It was against his code, and it was his code that powered that magic that had any chance to save the man.

And there it was a calming sensation started to envelop them as a magical aura was seen from not only the shield but also Alex's left hand. He placed that hand vaguely over the man's body where he assumed the wound was and started to heal him. He wasn't entirely sure about how bad his wounds were, but the important thing was to keep him alive. So he hoped the very least he was doing enough to stabilise him until he can figure out the extent of his wounds and also for Ms Starbright to ask any questions.

"Ms Starbright, keep speaking to him."
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Mon Oct 16, 2017 11:41 am

The man was lucky. Or maybe the two trying to pose as his saviours were.

Judging from the amount of blood on his cape alone, he should have been done for entirely. Yet for some reason it didn’t seem to. Or was that an illusion?

It was none born from hope or deception. In fact he had truly been in the worst of states, coughing up blood even now. However, some of the blood wasn’t his.

«…the who…I can’t answer. They simply came and…destroyed us just like that…»

Inspecting his body in attempt of healing in between the intervals of blood coughing, would reveal that the amount of external wounds was way below expectations. While they existed, the true source of the many blood on his clothes, or rather the front of these, would be the ever coughing mouth. Therefore only one conclusion would settle in after a short while: They were internal, nearly entirely.

He kept coughing, however it became less and less under the healing effect. Yet, even if it lessened, it wouldn’t stop. The damage had been too great.

«…the why…I am part of the Necessarius group…sent out to investigate the crime scene…after the bodies and major evidence has been transported elsewhere…we were only there to guard the place…and to search for anything we overlooked…»

Speaking became a bit easier, even though it still remained a strain. He was speaking in honesty, though, as would be proven by the uniform he wore. Just like many of his comrades the Magician had taken up the guise of a simple law enforcement officer. A commonality, he was hoping at least a member of the knights would notice.

«…the what…? I was part of the outside group, the one watching over the surrounding areas…looking out for suspicious characters and keeping up the people clearing field…I don’t know exactly what happened…but suddenly they were there. They came from the shadows before we even knew it…our spells were ineffective…we were beaten easily…»

Another burden became imminent. Not one of the physical kind, but one of the heart and mind. The scene must have been too much for him endure. Was it the sadness over the loss of his comrades or the humiliation he felt at that ungodly defeat.

«…I am the only one…who made it…the others are lost…I don’t know what’s going on…but…we need to warn Longroad…before it’s too late…»

☆☆☆☆☆☆

«Sir Moore, Sir Moore. Must I remind you of my position? Must I remind you of my duty? I am no fool. I am no barbarian. I know what honour and loyalty are. To demand of my ally to turn against their own is a thing I shall not dare. My desire is not to hurt such concepts. It would never occur to me to perform such an ill-mannered act as to disrespect my ally’s allies. No. The Lord would not allow I commit such sin. Nor would my standards. I am a fair man, you must see.»

Carefully moving from syllabi formed by his lips to syllabi, the cardinal was speaking calmly. A stark contrast to what had been on display just a moment before. But that was how he was. He was, just as he claimed, no man of dishonour. He would slaughter, he would kill, he would tear organs from a torso, he would destroy. Yet never would he step beyond the boundaries of (by his definition) good taste. Instead, he would ensure those would be handled carefully. Sometimes bent, yet never overstepped.

Increasing the distance for just a moment, taking a stroll around the large stage of their conversation, he went for another great diplomat’s move.

«In short: I am willing to accept your terms. What you suggested quite well pleases me. Therefore there is no need for you to show worry. I respect you. I respect your desire. I respect your approach.»

He moved on, in words and steps.

«There is one other thing I desire. A personal desire of myself and my organisation. There is a traitor among our ranks. Over the events of the passed day they apparently involved themselves with the likes of the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight. Her name is Francesca Purezza. I desire her head, not physically, but figuratively. She must be brought before me to suffer. A clean and quick death would defy that purpose. Lessons need to be learned.»

A pause in reconsideration.

«And while we are at it. I must admit, there is another I want, which will hurt the terms you just listed: I want to see the entirety of the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight crushed for good. Their insolence has been a source of dire anger to me. As you may understand, they do have the reputation of being rather unnerving trouble makers. I know of their power. I know of their influence. However, that is why they are so unsightly. Believing they can stand up to the Lord under their own strength and steal one of his. A frivolous crime. Deserving of punishment.»

His tongue had grown sharper at the conclusion of his monologue. He wasn’t looking to be convinced by whatever Moore would return at this request. He knew it was much to demand, a breach of the man’s ideals even. However, his enemy had been a clear one. Then again, was his enemy even one aligned with the colours of this country? Citizens they may have been. But were they truly the kind to be respected?

With his interests laid bare, there was no time to waste for any further shoehorning or promotion. Thus he jumped right at the next point on the schedule.

«As for the information. Once the terms are fully discussed, I’ll gladly share everything I know. After all, I do know most.»
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Post  Saravati Nair Wed Oct 25, 2017 4:53 am

It had hardly took long to close the distance. Like a hunter eyeing its prey, the girl silently and quickly closed the gap between her and Sasha to only a few meters...at least she had thought. Despite her high speed movement, there was only so much she could detect when the target of her chase had a monumental head start.

The target had blended herself into a crowd covered by haze. As she stood overlooking that hazy roadway, she came to realize that she could no longer scope out the target anymore. With a frown, Sara darted her eyes back to the outfit she was carrying and then back into the haze.

“Guess I need to search her out...” Her face scrunched up at the possibility of having to do an on-the-ground search.

Luckily for her, a single saving grace came for her in the form of a defensive voice.

"My first warning: don't take a single step closer with that!"

Anyone who was even minutely familiar with Sasha would recognize that obvious speech pattern instantly. The frown on her face quickly receded as she silently jumped until she was right in front of where that sound came from.

With the biggest, most diplomatic smile she could muster, she looked into Sasha’s eyes. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that. Your superior said the alliance won’t come into fruition unless you wear the dress. So, would you please indulge me?”

Without any effort, the pure defensiveness and hostility emanating from the short nun was deflected with equally pure innocence and childish glee. Even the obvious cues of impending violence could no longer stop the girl anymore. No obstruction could stand in her war path anymore. That was the resolve she now carried.
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Sat Oct 28, 2017 11:58 am

[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 11 ZMEuR3s

"Ah, no, that's not what I meant." With an air of sheepishness, Moore corrected his friend's misconception. "I just need to check these things. It's not a matter of character. If it got out to my superiors that I hadn't asked, it wouldn't have ended with just a demotion, you know." That was a lie. What had happened in this town had already surpassed the bounds of such worries.

"There're slippery bastards out there who you need to be sure get this kind of stuff out of so they can't just claim they never actually agreed to it after all's said and done, but it doesn't particularly matter if you're one of them or not. The most certain way to judge a man is by his word, you see."

A knight's duty was to make certain, was one way to put it. But Henry Moore's motives differed. This was purely a verbal contract. What may have been left unvoiced had now been spoken. And once things are spoken they became definite.

There are many ways of establishing a relationship of trust, but the act of giving your word can be regarded as one of the simplest among them. "If he keeps his word, he's trustworthy like I thought. If he breaks it, then it's clear that he's not the man I thought he was." Complications can be left out. It's a simple yes or no answer.

In the first place, if you want to have any trust at all, there's no point obfuscating things any further than that. At worst you're enemies, and even at the very best the greatest you can amount to is fellow soldiers of fortune. Both parties acting in their own, differing interest, only providing assistance where it would help them. Not 'mutually beneficial', but 'mutually manipulative'.

"That's fine." Listening further to the Cardinal's requests, his response was brief. The sharpness of the man's words made his stance on these terms clear, so Moore didn't hesitate affirming his agreement. "How your subordinates are dealt with is your prerogative, but I don't have a problem with helping bring her in."

"And as for the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight, there's no problem there. They may be home-grown, but they're not the ones we're sworn to protect. Rather, it's precisely shady bastards like them that we have to drive out." Necessarius and the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight were constantly at each other's throats, but all Moore could see was two vipers wrestling. The only difference between them was that the goals of one of them happened to align with the Knights'.

Hackles had been raised with the mention of the Sunlight, but word of the information refocused his intensity. "You're beyond generous." The tone was somewhat frivolous, but his atmosphere made it clear that he wasn't joking in the slightest. This was more than he could have ever asked for.



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She would have so anyway, so Albrekka let Alex's words go unheeded. She had her hands and voice full with the man already, so she didn't have room to spareーor so she thought.

"This is..."

Given the sheer amount of blood and his overall condition, she wasn't sure what she'd expected to find, but it wasn't this. The sheer lack of open wounds was deeply surprising, and if she matched the implications with the man's account of events...

"There's nothing I can do here." Shaking her head, she her efforts to examine his body and focused entirely on not letting a single moment go to waste. "If the Knights hadn't agreed to come, then this would have been much worse. It's unfortunate that the others couldn't understand that..."

"I agree. Is he still at the station? Do you have any way of contacting him? We'll make sure he's contacted as soon as possible. But in the meantime, what about your attackers? Are they still here? We may need to choose between confirming their motive and reaching Longroad, in the worst case."


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“Your superior said the alliance won’t come into fruition unless you wear the dress.”

Sara's twisted sense of diplomacy failed to accomplish its intent to even the slightest of degrees. The sheer joy that leaked from her voice as she spoke the words from hell confirmed Sasha's greatest and worst hypothesis, and with that all hesitation vanished from her heart.

"My first conclusion: you are of the same type!"

What followed was a display that would have done any Annihilatus member proud. There was that which should not exist, existing before her eyes. A blight upon the living!

The hammer struck down upon the earth and the already nonexistent visibility in the haze diminished beyond zero while the sound obscured her movement. Next, with monstrous strength she generated monstrous speed and closed the distance in an instant.

An order was an order... But if it was an idiotic order from an idiotic superior delivered by a member of another organization, it was less so! If she acted immediately, then things could still be wiped under the rug.

The hammer swung towards Sara's head. It was largely a feint, but it would make for an unpleasant experience nonetheless. But meanwhile, the real blowーthe sawーassaulted the true enemy. This was the last chance. It had to hit...!
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Sun Oct 29, 2017 12:38 pm

The man was stable, yet not saved. There was a limit to most healing spells not executed by experts and that one most certainly hit its own there. An implication of how great the damage was and one of how fortunate the man had truly been this very moment.

Coughing up a smaller amount of blood than before, he would tilt his head towards the green haired girl, as her questions continued to flow in.

«…I don’t know where he is…and it’s not necessary to know. Once we leave the blank spot in their surveillance Richmond Longroad will notice…I think I could do it…»

It was better, but not fine. He knew it, yet he was entirely ready to go out there and do something on his own, if it helped. The grudge towards the enemy, as well as his dedication to his task must have been tremendous, or at least enough of a drive here. In a sense this man suited his uniform more than some of the real police officers out in the field.

«They’re still there. The attack only happened a few minutes ago. They’re not done yet. They probably noticed I got away…so they’re likely expecting someone to come…or maybe they expected I died here. Whichever…whatever they’re doing, it shouldn’t take them that much longer…»

Whoever that mysterious enemy may have been, their arrival had been quick and perfectly executed, serving proof through the nearly complete eradication of a Necessaries squad. It was odd that the man had managed to survive and was speaking to them now, but just as he said, they were likely either expecting he had succumbed to his wounds or may have contacted someone on his path to escape. So would they hurry up or set ground for a trap against eventual reinforcements?

The possibilities were seemingly endless, the need for a good plan high, yet unfortunately the time running out.

Many things were colliding that moment, but the main question would remain: What to do?
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Post  Sir Alexander Beathen Wed Nov 01, 2017 1:04 am

"Shadows... Spells ineffective?"

Alexander had come to a realisation, what the man described in his words had led him to believe those shadows the entire knight group faced before was behind this whole affair with the Nessarius group. And in that moments his eyes scanned the area he was familiar with their tactics and probably was the best place to at least hold them off. He has no real way to kill them, but there was no reason why he had too in this case. He didn't underestimate them, but how he would deal with them wasn't important.

So he withdrew his hand he used to heal the magician with a heavy heart. There was only so much he can do, and though he seemed to be stable, he had to get on with what was truly important.

The mission.

"I'm sorry, but we need to stop whatever they're doing in there. Ms Starbright, stay or come with us but we need to go now!" Alexander said standing up with his sword as the light dimmed seeing this as not the right moment to use it. He walked around the wounded magician and as he passed his fellow knights he called them to arms.

"Sir Wortham and York." Alexander had said tapping his armour in an attempt to activate the communication channel with all knights.

"Calling all available knights, reinforcements required at point B-7. I repeat point B-7, we're dealing with the same Shadows as before and need assistance. The Nessarious group has been attacked with only one survivor. We shall run interference." Alexander said who decided to leave the channel open, hadn't known yet if the communication was successful. Seeing there was a chance the blank spot could also affect the knight's communication network.

Still, there was a reason why the church agents were attacked, there is something here which was important enough to get into a fight with them. Or at least dangerous enough to not allow the churchgoers to get their hands on it.

So the very least the knights must secure it.

It was a judgement call and so he went into the same hell that the magician had barely escaped from. And Alexander was more then serious, the look in his eyes was sharp and if he was right about the enemy he was prepared.

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Post  Saravati Nair Tue Nov 07, 2017 8:31 am

“My first conclusion: you are of the same type!”

Same type of what?

Sara’s confusion as to what the hell Sasha was shouting about had obscured her thought process by just enough. The hammer strike to the ground and the subsequent dust cloud+haze combination had caught her off guard for half a second.

And that half a second was enough to let Sasha close in and initiate. But, even so--

JUMP BACK!

Danger signals reverberated throughout her muscles fast enough for her to jump back and evade completely. Sasha may have been fast, but speed was one of Sara’s great specialties. Her legs accelerated her from zero to 390 kph and back to zero, leaving her ten meters away from Sasha and completely unscathed. Or so she had thought.

Unbeknownst to Sara, the real blow was successful—at least partially. The outfit she had kept folded to prevent from getting wrinkled all over from the air resistance had been cut at the hem of the skirt, leaving a decimeter-long laceration.

But any chance of that being noticed in that moment faded away as a hawk-like focus had begun to sprout and expand in Sara. The magician hunter was ready to sink her talons into the succulent prey before her. Without a single hint of fear or hesitation, she silently closed the distance once again and reached her right hand out towards where she had thought Sasha had been, ready to grab the red nun and run back to the restaurant.
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Mon Nov 13, 2017 1:00 pm

[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 11 CJoeeKJ
Two strikes, and only a glancing blow. The feint had served its purpose, and allowed the saw to strike through. But the feedback light, far too much so. With no mercy in her heart, Sasha had fully intended to destroy the outfit completely and utterly, so that it's evil would never plague her again.

But yet, as she watched the girl slip through her fingers, a dark sense of foreboding crept forth. Even more than before, a sense of danger assailed her. Somehow, that glancing blow had only increased the threat that it posed, rather than dealing even the slightest damage...!

If she had simply missed, then she could have backed down. She would have been left with at least the option to accept her fate. But now? Her years of experience in the deepest depths of hell screamed out to her: she must destroy it now. As a member of Annihilatus, she had to remove all traces of that thing from this world, or else she would face true hell!

When Sara leapt back towards her, Sasha didn't hesitate. If it was coming to her, she would take the opportunity. Seeing Sara's outstretched hand piercing through the fog, Sasha pounded a nail into the ground with a single hand. In response, the earth softened for just an instant, allowing her to sink a few inches, then hardened once more, anchoring her.

Something like this wasn't enough to be called an impediment to Sasha, but she could tell that the other girl didn't have that sort of strength. Rather than the product of explosive strength like hers, that sort of speed had notably less 'weight' about it. It was specialized in a different direction, or so she assessed from what she could see.

But in the end none of that mattered. She could drag her off wherever she pleased. The anchor might or might not create an opportunity, but Sasha's plan of action was the same regardless of what happened: obliterate the target with the saw she still gripped.


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Albrekka didn't necessarily disagree with Alex's choice of action. The magician made it clear that events were in occurring on a scale of minutes and seconds, which meant that any amount of time they could get was likely crucial to stopping whatever they were doing. And he seemed to know who the assailants were, as well.

By all merits his decision could be trusted, most likely. But there was still something she needed to ask.

"One last question. Why are your wounds like this?" She spoke loudly enough for Alex to hear, so that he might stay back to listen if he chose, but made no attempt to stop him. "You're covered in blood, but your wounds are entirely internal."

Assuming, morbidly, that the blood belonged to his fallen comrades, that raised the question: why did all of them receive wounds that led to such dramatic bloodshed, while his were so comparatively clean? Was there a difference in treatment between them? If so, why, and if not, how did he end up like this? When the rest of his comrades died, how did he alone escape with such strange wounds?

"What happened? And how did you get out?"

Perhaps the explanation behind his wounds was trivial. But it wasn't something she wanted to leave unanswered.
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Sun Dec 17, 2017 9:45 pm

Darkness was the domain the three knights were headed into. The moon would disappear, the depths of the haze they would dive into and then step through a door waiting for them wide open. The clock was ticking. The hands were moving. Their hurry had been just, had their time been cut entirely short. Would reinforcements come? Had anyone heard their call or not? There was no response. No time to wait for one.

It began as they entered the belly of true darkness.

The house, even though an apartment building meant to be a home for many individuals, was entirely silent. All lights were turned off, thus only the few glints of moonshine and distant street lamps would enlighten the surroundings. Otherwise it was hollow, deep, mystifying.

Each step they would take would echo throughout the silence, the blackness, the abyss. It would reach anywhere, they could tell. No door was shut, not locked, not even closed. All rooms were opened up. Everything was connected. What happened somewhere would reach into the far end of elsewhere. The building was entirely open. Each and every of their moves would reach whatever awaited in the shadows of the numerous corridors. Yet would anything from among those shadows reach back to them?

A stench filled the air.

Death would crawl towards them upon each breathe taken. Rotten bodies. While not visible to their eyes, the smell alone told them they were there, somewhere. A mausoleum. It reeked so strongly of it, anyone without the proper experiences would have emptied their stomach just a few steps later. However those brave men were professionals of a craft strongly connected to violence.

Violence.

A piece of nostalgia left to them before. A hint of the not too distant past.

Somewhere, at the end of their paths, at a table inside one of the abandoned apartments someone sat. Even through the thick oppressing dark, their demeanor would be clearly visible, entirely gentlemanly. All alone at a kitchen table there sat a middle aged man in black suits, a round glass of amber liquid in his hands, taking a sip with as little care as their was. He’d only acknowledge their presence with a faint tilt of his head, all the while remaining the same very gentlemanly way as before.

A ray of light reflected by the moon would illuminate his face, yet only scarcely, not that it mattered. He was devoid of anything unique or special. In fact he was as little outstanding and ordinary as a man could be. Just a shade of a man.

«It is a pleasure to meet you. It was about time that you arrived, gentlemen.»

Taking a concluding sip of that well aged alcohol, he would safely place the glass on the table, not minding to put up any caution.

Entirely relaxed as he was, that hardly unique gentleman’s eyes would be guided towards his guests.

«Now then, before we move on, I implore you to answer me just one question: What is it that you have come here to seek?»

☆☆☆☆☆☆

«All that has a name really exists.»

The Magician’s reply was given rashly, short and enigmatic. If anything it was the result of the pressing circumstances granted by both their time running to an end and his own body’s ever approaching limits. Therefore all he found himself able to grant was a short collection of words, he deemed meaningful enough for the other side to crack.

In the end that short utterance would explain everything in a better sense than any other sentence he would have found himself capable of speaking. Yet only if the girl was enough of a Magician to see beyond.

He didn’t waste a moment, were they quite short on those already.

However those words were not the only passing gift he’d leave his savior with. With just a simple swift movement of his hand a PET bottle of water would find its was into the hands of the girl. It was the kind you’d find in any super market. Not sealed, about a third of its 500ml content already gone, while taking a sip would reveal an oddly salty taste.

And then, before even minding further possible questions, he’d carry his battered body forward towards an objective of his own.

Little did he know what about what was to come there...
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Post  Sir Alexander Beathen Tue Dec 19, 2017 10:03 pm

The moment he entered the grounds, the young knight lead the charge showing no fear at the swarming darkness that engulfed the apartments. He drew his sword without delay, and it glowed brightly driving his fellow knights through, but the sword remained lowered, drawn but he wasn't wielding it to strike just yet. Compared to his fellows, Alexander tenure isn't as long, but he was no stranger to death.

The smell of it though was often a reminder that he has failed yet again and that weighed heavily on him but he carried on regardless. Adding that toll to his burden as he searched the apartments one by one until he came upon someone at sitting beside a table, the closer he got the light of his sword dimmed as not to blind them. He would find it hard to describe it in words, but it looked like he was seeing the reflection of a man who seemed ordinary with no defined features.  

The very least he showed formal behaviour who had acknowledged their presence, so it was only fair that Alexander showed the same manners in response to this gentlemanly shadow.

«It is a pleasure to meet you. It was about time that you arrived, gentlemen.»

Those words disturbed the young knight, but he didn't show it and listened to the question that followed.

«Now then, before we move on, I implore you to answer me just one question: What is it that you have come here to seek?»

It was very obvious, and that was a way to kill a vampire. To stop it from terrorising Whitby and bring peace to all that lived here. But since coming here there was less evidence of a vampire and more evidence of rival groups fighting each other. Grudges and issues that had been brought to Whitby in response to what had happened here.

So Alexander thought he might be overthinking it, but he should word it carefully and not too be specific that he would waste the question.

"A way to end the nightmare that plagues Whitby and its people."
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Mon Dec 25, 2017 1:29 pm

«I see.»

His words were sparse but perfectly well chosen. As the rays of bright light pierced the brooding darkness like holy swords a monstrosity’s belly, those two’s eyes would meet. It was meeting of chance. Or maybe it wasn’t. None of that mattered, at least it didn’t seem like it would.

That featureless shade of a man would remain seated, his eyes greeting his guests while his fingers would play with the crystal glass he’d just emptied, dancing round the circle-shaped rim.

«You leave me to wonder, though, Sir Alexander Beathen: What shape is it said nightmare assumes, in your eyes and own words?»

Curiosity, a tiny glint of it, a hardly visible spark, something, somewhere in his bottomless black eyes. His desire to have his question answered was clearly visible, yet at the same time enigmatic. What was the truth hidden among that unending blackness? Who knew. However, a simple answer would suffice to open the portal. The portal to what exactly? Who knew.

So, what would the young knight’s answer be?
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Post  Sir Alexander Beathen Wed Dec 27, 2017 12:41 am

It was such a simple answer, everything that happened could be traced back to one thing, to one incident that turned into many. It was the catalyst that brought all of them to Whitby which caused all the events up until now. But just to say that simple answer felt like a cop-out because, in the end, he hasn't exactly seen the Vampire of Whitby.

There was something about this thing, this shade of a man which Alex felt it deserve to understand the answer he would give him in the end. Even though it was simple.

"Somewhere down the line, I would've said it was ourselves. Our Nature has caused so many problems chasing these rumours of a vampire. But that's just it, our nature is barely interchangeable no matter how hard we try it all eventually comes down to the same motivation for greed, power or ignorance. It's probably the majority of the reasons people came here and yet my eyes lay solely at the source. What fueled it, what drew us all to Whitby like a moth to a flame... Get rid of the flame and the moths disperse. The Vampire of Whitby." Alexander said answering the question the shade of the man gave.

Sir Alexander had no real understanding of vampire society, maybe no one does but the vampires themselves. But all these years their culture had remained mostly a secret, we being in comparison ants not comprehending their existence as we continue our lives. And yet Alexander had thought something had happened, something different that caused a vampire to break the secrecy of their race and drawn the eyes of the magical world to Whitby
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Wed Dec 27, 2017 12:23 pm

«I see. So that is your intention, Sir Beathen.»

His curiosity was satisfied. At least the spark had disappeared from his eyes, returning them to the same hopeless state they have been in before. He was a strange man, an avatar of darkness, yet in some way kind and respectful. He was an enemy, yet even though they knew it, he was hardly leaving any impression of that on them.

«Slaying the Vampire of Whitby is quite an ambitious goal, believe me. However, even if you accomplish said objective, it is hardly the means necessary to end this debacle. Even if you would accomplish the miracle of slaying that fiend, the outcome won’t be affected by it. That is how far their plans have already come.»

He knew. He knew something. He knew everything. And he was openly sharing what was otherwise treated like the deepest secret of all secrets. How far did his knowledge reach? Why would he go as far as to reveal everything just like that? To an enemy even?

That featureless shade of a man remained an enigma, truly befitting of his state as a shade.

«It does not matter, though. Nothing matters. This is the end of the road, Sir Beathen. You coming here means you have failed your objective. Whitby can no longer be saved. This place shall become proof to that. As of now everything is just a matter of minutes before their plan kicks into motion, ending everything.»

As he spoke, he would claim hold of the glass before his fingers, lifting it into the air, his eyes meeting their slight reflection in the glass.

«It was a pleasure to welcome you, Sir Alexander Beathen, Sir Evan York, Sir Vam Wortham, in this tomb. This tomb of ours.»

The air shifted. All warmth had become extinct as slowly everything that wasn’t hit by the golden rays of light was eaten up by black darkness.
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Fri Jan 05, 2018 4:37 pm

[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 11 Mqo88k9

Leaving behind nothing but a few spare words and a PET bottle, the magician left, striding into the haze. Albrekka was of a mind to stop him, considering his injuries, but one could not save one who did not wish to be saved. The man clearly had a goal in mind that was worth straining his body for. And just as much, Albrekka did as well. For their own reasons, time was a commodity neither of them could afford to waste.

"Thank you."

Rather than an attempt to save the man's life against what seemed to be his will, she would show her gratitude by using what he had given her to determine the truth of what had occurred.

Pursuing the same path Alex had taken before her, Albrekka plunged into the unknown. As she did so, she took the time to examine the bottle, and think over the words she had been left with. She could not afford time to spend leisurely considering things, but it was pointless if she only discerned the true meaning after it was too late, so this was her best and perhaps only window to make use of what she had been left with.

Dipping her finger into the bottle, she then stuck into her mouth, recognizing the taste as simple water with salt mixed into it.

"Saltwater... Why saltwater? Salt on its own purifies and cleanses, but it's also sometimes used in the production of holy water. Vampires are sometimes susceptible to that, aren't they? Most likely, this is either a ward or a weapon."

That was one half of what the magician had left to her. What that left wasー

"ーthe words. 'All that has a name really exists.' That sounds a lot like it could be a basis for a spell. The most straightforward uses would be to strengthen or somehow weaken something's presence... He and Alex mentioned shadows; could it be latter? But they might still be unrelated..."

"But either way, if Alex recognized that description, then it means they've encountered something similar in Whitby already. It could be from somewhere I don't know about it, but the first group to come to mind is the Portuguese Market. Though that could just be because I walked in on that."


Several pieces of info, all truncated. This location, related to the vampire. The PET bottle. The attack on Necessarius. The mysterious enemy. Somehow they all fit together in the puzzle that Whitby had become, locked into Longroad's plans, but as of now Albrekka could not see how. There was no knowing whether it was a lack of knowledge or insight.

"I know too little."

But one way or another, that problem, at least as it pertained to the immediate situation would be 'fixed'. Rapidly, rapidly, she followed what she hoped was the same path that the knights had taken. There was threat to her life and limb, but her lack of ability to defend herself spurred her on rather than held her back.

If she couldn't do anything about it, there was nothing to be done but accept the risk as she pursued the truth of whatever it was that was going on here, the trail that Longroad's hints lead to.

And there, in the darkness which hidden away by the haze, she would findー
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Post  Sir Alexander Beathen Sat Jan 06, 2018 1:17 pm

Again, the knight had thought he had failed. That moment when you can feel like the door has been slammed shut on you was all but real. The cold chill slowly surrounding them as with a slight glance the young knight can see what was happening. He didn't know the true scope of the powers of the one before him nor does he care to see its limitations. But there was no desire to see this place as his tomb, the young knight had plans to die in a bed at the end of a long life and surrounded by loved ones.

Though well-laid plans never truly go according to plan.

He had originally suppressed the level of light which his sword puts out as a courtesy, not wanting to blind the person they met in this very room. But as the darkness grew, so did the light of his sword. Alexander has barely had reason to see the true scope of the sword's glow because it really didn't change the name of the game. It stood more as a symbol than a weapon and as long his courage holds, the light shouldn't wane. More so for the benefit of his fellow knights than his own personal safety.

And he had also felt nostalgic over the same thing, the change of atmosphere had reminded him of those cold winter months numerous years ago. It was in the local woods near his home, Alexander had undertaken the challenge of pulling a sword from the stone and he wasn't allowed back until he succeded. For some, it may have driven them mad and Alexander could've gone that way if it wasn't for that golden light. It was the only thing that kept him company and acted as a beacon in a very dark and cold place.  

"I shall not pretend to understand whats going on, but I have no intention of this being my tomb. My duty is not done and shall not be finished until every soul in this town reaches safety." Alexander said who was concerned for his fellow knights but managed to remain focused on the shade.

"But maybe you're right, too much has happened and things have progressed so far that saving Whitby is impossible. But I don't care for the collection of buildings that were built on this part of the island. I care more about the people that inhabited or once inhabited them. I'll pull each one out of the fire myself if I can't stop the danger." Alexander said stepping forward only once being careful to keep his fellows within the light.

"Only if someone points me in the direction, where to direct my blade then I shall pull off a miracle. But since no one shall, it leaves me no choice but go the long way round. But before I go and attempt to do it all. Allow me to correct an injustice. You know mine and the name of my friends, but we don't know your name at all." Alexander had said thinking about earlier experiences, he was actually curious if this shade had a name. If there was truth to its words and this place would be his tomb.

The very least they should know the name that belongs to the shade.
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Sat Jan 06, 2018 9:23 pm

A feint chuckle escaped the shade’s lips as his guest flung a speech of utter dedication, filled with heart and desire. A gesture so simple, yet of great respect in its own. That, however, would become the last bids of respect he would shed before that line was crossed. That line whereafter there was no return.

«Pardon me Sir Beathen, but I do not have a name. We do not have any. A long time ago we discarded those along with our hopes and beliefs.»

As he uttered those words with his cold yet soft voice, the darkness surrounding the four men changed. Just as he was moving on and the tides would turn. The hollow darkness all of a sudden would be filled. Where there had only been nothingness before, suddenly the outlines of people appeared. When had they come? Or had they been there all along?

«All that is left for us to hold, is our master’s orders. Fulfil that final debt.»

The darkness would face the light openly. Embracing it.

It would never be pushed a way, never perish, never waver. No matter how powerful that golden glow, the black shroud would remain ever present, hurling around every corner, claiming reign, defending it.

«Let us end this the way it should be.»

That was the signal. His attack would commence. Yet what happened was nothing out of the rulebooks or the ordinary. He did not move, not charge, not unleash any kind of massively destructive hell. No, all he did was lift the glass in his hands, look through and stare at the man beyond.

«Sir Vam Wortham. You are first.»

The name was spoken once again, audibly, respectfully, coated in just a tiny hint of pity.

Then the muscles in their enemy’s fingers were invoked, pressuring the empty glass until slowly cracks would form. Cracks that would multiply and spread, only to have the glass shatter by a moment’s passing. The shards would fall, drop on the wooden floor one by one. Each impact reverberating through the darkness.

And as that glass shattered, something else would, too. That knight who had been addressed would feel it coming over him just as sudden. It was a pain immeasurably, incomprehensible, yet real. A pain originating from the very same disaster that shade had staged before their eyes. There was no sign to the outside. The inside was a different story. His body, in the truest sense, had shattered.

With not a single ounce of stability left within him, he would collapse, announcing the true beginning of the battle and the calamity that was their enemy’s overwhelming power.

One was down, two to go.
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Post  Vita Vesta Caesar Mon Jan 08, 2018 12:38 pm

[SS] Hazy Silhouette - Page 11 Mqo88k9

«...e Sir Beathen, but I do not have a name. We do not have any. A long time ago we discarded those along with our hopes and beliefs.»

The sound of voices drew Albrekka further into darkness, guiding her to her destination. Her impending arrival, it seemed, had yet gone unnoticed. In the eerie silence their conversation was barely audible, but becoming clearer by the moment as the walked on.

«All that is left for us to hold, is our master’s orders. Fulfil that final debt.»

"What master? Who is this? The Portuguese Market? Ambroise? Someone else?"

The light of Alex's sword was visible, but Albrekka had yet to step inside its glow. Walking forward, ever forward, she held the PET bottle cautiously. Questions burned through her head with every step she took, but she held no answers yet.

«Let us end this the way it should be.»

And as the ultimatum was spoken, she left the darkness and came back into the light. With no party seeming to have given conscience to her presence, she may have had to opportunity to stand back. Watch. Listen. Without getting involved, learning as much as she could.

But despite the threat hanging in the air, Albrekka never held the sparest intent of concealing anything. To hide in the shadows was not her way. If she wanted to truly learn anything, then she had to step out and take it in. Take it in full, without flinching away from the truth, no matter what cost.

«Sir Van Wortham. You are first.»

The sound of shattering glass accompanied her arrival, almost as if she was to take the place Van Wortham had now vacated. She took the collapse of the man who had been walking beside her just a few minutes ago calmly, without any fear or hysterics. This was unfortunate.

Why must they resort to such crude measures?

Is bloodshed really all they know?

She grieved his senseless loss in silence. There was no purpose to it. They had simply chosen the much simpler path of bloodshed over the grueling path she had taken up, like so many other magicians. She could not let this tragedy stop her. With firm will, she would continue.

"All that has a name really exists. I assume you are the ones the man from outside spoke of. The shades that no attack would affect."

She had now seen the truth that lay before her eyes, and she had no reason to hesitate in baring it for all.

"If a name is needed for one to exist, then by abandoning it, as you say you have, then you will cease to 'be', won't you? You can attack a person but not a shadow. That would be the secret behind your defense, wouldn't it? I imagine that spell you used just now works similarly. After, you stated his name. Did you prepare the glass for him in advance? Did you strip him of his name or connect him to glass through it?"

With a light sigh, she shook her head.

"I suppose it doesn't matter. Your spells don't matter. The important thing is you. I assume your mention of having abandoned your names earlier was your response to Alex asking who you are, so I won't bother doing the same, but that isn't nearly as important as the why, anyway."

A man laid on the floor, suffering grievous injuries. The group was confronted with a crowd of nameless wraiths. She held no means of defense except perhaps the PET bottle, the use of which she had several guesses for but no confirmation as of yet. Albrekka and the remaining knights could perhaps be felled with the ease of shattering glass. But right here, right now, none of that mattered.

"Why are you here in Whitby?"

For this town, nothing was more important than that one question.
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Post  Leivinia Birdway Tue Jan 09, 2018 10:35 am

When he noticed steps resounding in the darkness of the hallways, that man would turn towards the door, his eyes fixing themselves on their new company.

The instance he saw that presence, that utter unfamiliar presence, his muscles tensed.

Was it because he hadn’t anticipated it? Was it because he hadn’t expected further company? Or was it because said person was the least familiar face applicable to him? Or were it those words revealing the essence of his magic tricks? Just for a moment he saw everything shatter. Yet, the shock in his otherwise empty eyes would soon be overrun by a chuckle.

«I see now. This is the way it is supposed to be.»

Murmuring those words to himself, he would remain there, unmoving.

Not granting him the chance to make his rebuttal, to explain a tiny detail of where she had gone wrong, she would press forward with the – to her – obviously most important question:

«Why are you here in Whitby?»

«Of course you would ask that.»

There was no tension, no pressure, nothing.

Even though she had stormed in like the ace that would tip the entire game, that man was far from overwhelmed. In fact, while her position as an ace was entirely appropriate, he didn’t mind. He accepted the turn he hadn’t foreseen. That turn that could break his neck. Just like that. Yet why?

«To keep it short and sound: Our role is to serve as the stage hand for the great spectacle of Whitby, the massacre of the vicious Vampire. We are the ones assigned to insure everything goes the way our master imagines it to be. We are the ones everything depends on. And we have done well in accomplishing that. Hence it is too late now. For everyone.»

To some his explanation may have been enigmatic. To others it may have been clear as day. To them however it was…?
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