Does random chance exist? Or does every act have a purpose? Are the mistakes we make really blessings for us to learn from?
Things settled again, training resumed or drinks were had. Ravrohan ran through the movements the brigadier had first taught him when he joined the Templar, and decided he would be a swordsman despite not having any history with the weapon. It reinforced his foundations, and he found it simply relaxing to run through the methods and techniques of the blade. From being a rank amateur to the sword dancer he was now, it had been an interesting journey to say the least. Through the sword and the Templar he had found himself he thought, and a way to make up for past deeds. He was, happy?
In the distance he heard gunfire, and wondered if it was that lady, Jennet at shooting practice a midst the other shooters. Another of the Nine Swords, and one of the very few people he knew of that Cabal. The other guy, Treylar, he was one too wasn't he? Was he coming back after cleaning up? Rav thought he might ask the guy about pistols and his own Paladin training.
Distracting thoughts can kill, that was a lesson the Brigadier did his damnedest to drill into the heads of every recruit, and as Ravrohan let the distractions mount he cut the one place on the demon's body that one should never cut in the Crucible.
It's bindings.
The snap had barely registered when Ravrohan looked up and saw the puzzled look on the raksasha's masked face. There was a shared moment of confusion before all hell broke loose. It screamed against the leather belt in its mouth as its freed arm smashed into Rav's stomach with enough force to send him flying into the body of another bound demon. His attacker scrambling to tear off its other bindings. By the time Rav got his senses together and looked up he was throwing himself into a roll to get away from the first demon as it sprung at him. Instead of going after him though, the demonic beast was tearing its kin free of its own imprisonment.
All across the Crucible hell was breaking loose in a painfully literal way, as more demons were finding themselves freed from bondage and turning on their torturers or making frenzied rushes to escape the hall anyway they could. The attacks against them only slowing them down. Whatever magic that kept them whole enough to practice on and denied them freedom from their torment was enabling their flights to freedom.
Stray, strange and faithful dog that he was, ran over to his master's battered body and licked his face. Ravrohan's eyes snapped open and he started to jump to his feet, and discovered several broken ribs in the process. Falling forward he gasped in pain, and spit up the too sweet blood that welled up in his throat. "Give... just a moment boy, I heal fast." he would be fine soon, but each minute burned, nigh-immortality was a handy thing, but healing could be a real bitch sometimes.
From his pitched over vantage point on the floor, he could hear the Lethe in rare form as he barked orders to medics and for the Templars to get moving and keep the demons from getting to far. Bloody old man sounded like he was in the best mood he'd been in awhile, he was probably in his element.
"I want those demons found! Bring them back or put them down, but we cannot let them out of Ealdwic!" It was probably to late to keep them from leaving Templar HQ already. "And find out what happened with their bindings! This never should have happened."
Ravrohan struggled to his feet as he felt bone and sinew mend enough for it. He started hobbling for the door, he'd be fine soon, he just had to get moving.
((Signet Mission! Everyone who participates in the demon hunt will get a random signet from me. Just post what you're doing to get the situation under control by the next NY Raid and you're eligible. If its a really good post or you post more than once, maybe you'll get a bonus!))
The Crucible
Re: The Crucible
Jenn's ear protection mostly muffled the sounds of the demons in the Crucible getting the living Hell... hehe... living Hell...she was so bloody clever, wasn't she? Demons getting the Hell blown of them. Appropriate! She giggled at herself and pulled a shot so far left, it hit the wall and ricocheted, sending a skitter of anima along the marble.
She mouthed Lethe's inevitable, "You'll be polishing that scratch off the marble tonight, Edwards," for him, so the old man didn't have to waste his breath. Then she raised the rifle again and sighted on the demon... who howled. Before she hit it. The thing just raised its head and started bellowing. In fact, all the demons were howling... and dragging at their chains.
Jenn pulled her headset off and turned around to ask Lethe what was going on. Turns out Lethe was busy. Oh, and the Crucible was being over-run by off-the-leash Rakshasa.
Lethe was bellowing now too, and far louder than the demons, it might be noted. Some of the demons were pouring out the door of the Crucible, slamming aside unsuspecting Templar who were just coming in for a quick drink or a few shots on the range.
Jenn raised her rifle, sighted on one misshapen, demonic back about to disappear out the doorway into the Hall, and took the shot. She clipped the thing in the shoulder, sending it spinning before it slithered out the door, limbs bending in all the wrong ways to propel it to freedom. The reflected healing anima from the shot bathed a fellow Templar by the door who looked to be in rough shape. Jenn may have undone a bit of her own healing as she elbowed past the man and shoved out the door after the retreating demons.
"Oh..." The man she'd just rushed past looked vaguely familiar. Probably because this was the second time she'd nearly run him down in the last hour or so. "Stray...Ravsomething... sorry, have to run! Some idjit's let the cats all out of the bag." She grinned at him and sent a quick little burst of blood magic to try to patch him up as she skidded along the slick marble floors.
Doing her best Tom Cruise imitation, Jenn slid past a marble column and out into the Hall. She had to remember to scuff down the bottom of her new boots a little.
The Hall looked like the local pub after a football match. There was yelling, scrambling, fighting, and a lot of dazed faces. There were also demons making an end-run for the doors to the peaceful, unsuspecting... okay well, at least unsuspecting streets of Ealdwick.
Jenn left her rifle leaning up against a column. It wouldn't do to spray the locals with a fully-automatic and fully lethal rifle. Bad for public relations. Almost as bad as the demons running amok. While Jenn's father designed and dealt in firearms, she was first and foremost a blood mage... blood witch if you asked her mother's side of the family, which most people tried not to do. That, at least, she could use in the streets of a city without taking down (too many) innocent (or guilty) bystanders.
She picked one target, a small demon with a slippery look to it, and chased it into Ealdwick. The thing saw her coming and started leaping cars and dodging down stairways, scrambling up and down from the sub-level sidewalk.
"Oh, for..." Jenn hurdled over a railing and dropped down beneath the street level. By the time she surfaced a half-block down, still 10 yards behind the speedy little demon, she had her Hello Kitty iPhone out and had keyed speed-dial. She was apparently leaving a message while running.
"Heyla, Tom. It's me." Panting sounds. "Home late tonight." Scrambling sounds and what was probably the sound of boot soles slithering over worn cement steps. "Crucible leaked demons." The shriek of tires as someone spun out their motorbike when a demon darted in front of them followed by a black-haired girl on a cellphone. "Feed cats?"
Jenn rang off and shoved her phone back in her pocket as the demon dodged into a shopfront up ahead. "Oh, no..." Jenn skidded to a halt in the doorway to Pangaea. The shoppers were so wrapped up in finding the perfect match, none of them had noticed the little demon darting into the store and disappearing among the racks of clothes. Fashion was serious business.
"I know you're in there..." Jenn whispered, glaring at the forest of clothing, neatly packed on racks and displayed on mannequins. Mannequins would never stop being creepy. Probably not as creepy though as pulling out a nice cardigan and having a Rakshasa grab you.
Jenn took a breath and strolled into the store, trying to look like just another fashionista, looking for the perfect demo...er, dress.
[To be continued...]
She mouthed Lethe's inevitable, "You'll be polishing that scratch off the marble tonight, Edwards," for him, so the old man didn't have to waste his breath. Then she raised the rifle again and sighted on the demon... who howled. Before she hit it. The thing just raised its head and started bellowing. In fact, all the demons were howling... and dragging at their chains.
Jenn pulled her headset off and turned around to ask Lethe what was going on. Turns out Lethe was busy. Oh, and the Crucible was being over-run by off-the-leash Rakshasa.
Lethe was bellowing now too, and far louder than the demons, it might be noted. Some of the demons were pouring out the door of the Crucible, slamming aside unsuspecting Templar who were just coming in for a quick drink or a few shots on the range.
Jenn raised her rifle, sighted on one misshapen, demonic back about to disappear out the doorway into the Hall, and took the shot. She clipped the thing in the shoulder, sending it spinning before it slithered out the door, limbs bending in all the wrong ways to propel it to freedom. The reflected healing anima from the shot bathed a fellow Templar by the door who looked to be in rough shape. Jenn may have undone a bit of her own healing as she elbowed past the man and shoved out the door after the retreating demons.
"Oh..." The man she'd just rushed past looked vaguely familiar. Probably because this was the second time she'd nearly run him down in the last hour or so. "Stray...Ravsomething... sorry, have to run! Some idjit's let the cats all out of the bag." She grinned at him and sent a quick little burst of blood magic to try to patch him up as she skidded along the slick marble floors.
Doing her best Tom Cruise imitation, Jenn slid past a marble column and out into the Hall. She had to remember to scuff down the bottom of her new boots a little.
The Hall looked like the local pub after a football match. There was yelling, scrambling, fighting, and a lot of dazed faces. There were also demons making an end-run for the doors to the peaceful, unsuspecting... okay well, at least unsuspecting streets of Ealdwick.
Jenn left her rifle leaning up against a column. It wouldn't do to spray the locals with a fully-automatic and fully lethal rifle. Bad for public relations. Almost as bad as the demons running amok. While Jenn's father designed and dealt in firearms, she was first and foremost a blood mage... blood witch if you asked her mother's side of the family, which most people tried not to do. That, at least, she could use in the streets of a city without taking down (too many) innocent (or guilty) bystanders.
She picked one target, a small demon with a slippery look to it, and chased it into Ealdwick. The thing saw her coming and started leaping cars and dodging down stairways, scrambling up and down from the sub-level sidewalk.
"Oh, for..." Jenn hurdled over a railing and dropped down beneath the street level. By the time she surfaced a half-block down, still 10 yards behind the speedy little demon, she had her Hello Kitty iPhone out and had keyed speed-dial. She was apparently leaving a message while running.
"Heyla, Tom. It's me." Panting sounds. "Home late tonight." Scrambling sounds and what was probably the sound of boot soles slithering over worn cement steps. "Crucible leaked demons." The shriek of tires as someone spun out their motorbike when a demon darted in front of them followed by a black-haired girl on a cellphone. "Feed cats?"
Jenn rang off and shoved her phone back in her pocket as the demon dodged into a shopfront up ahead. "Oh, no..." Jenn skidded to a halt in the doorway to Pangaea. The shoppers were so wrapped up in finding the perfect match, none of them had noticed the little demon darting into the store and disappearing among the racks of clothes. Fashion was serious business.
"I know you're in there..." Jenn whispered, glaring at the forest of clothing, neatly packed on racks and displayed on mannequins. Mannequins would never stop being creepy. Probably not as creepy though as pulling out a nice cardigan and having a Rakshasa grab you.
Jenn took a breath and strolled into the store, trying to look like just another fashionista, looking for the perfect demo...er, dress.
[To be continued...]
And in the fury of this darkest hour, we will be your light...
Re: The Crucible
After leaving Temple Hall, Treylar had made an immediate left passing by The Temple Club, Honesty Yard, and into the access tunnel. He frequents these underground tunnels when going to his flat above the The House of Chalk, or to conduct transactions away from the prying eyes of any camera, or witness.
In the dimly lit entrance of The Bazalgette he is talking with another Templar Agent, “Always’a pleasure doin’ business wit’cha Trey!”
“Likewise.”, was Treylar’s only response as he pops a pill into his mouth then puts the lid on the bottle, and quickly stashes it inside the right front pocket of his baggy jeans. As he chews up the pill, a sour expression come across his face before finally swallowing the tiny remnants.
“Mmm, good batch! My compliments to the chef. Double my order for next ...”, his head is quickly drawn upwards as he is interrupted by the sounds of a woman screaming, and random gunfire that have now begun to echo down the cylindrical metal chamber from nearby the street entrance level followed by the distinct sound of a Raksasha Howl.
Treylar turns back to the other Templar Agent and starts giving orders, “Gather as many as you can; Do NOT let them get to Argatha! Defend the entrance to Argatha!”
Still somewhat baffled, the other Templar Agent stares back at Treylar with his mouth gaping wide open as if to say something.
Treylar grabs the collar of the other Agent’s uniform and pulls him closer to snap him out of the Agent’s shocked state, “DEFEND the Argatha entrance! Get everyone along the way to help you! GO!”, and with that, Treylar shoves the other Agent towards the tunnels, and sprints up the spiral staircase, once at street level, heads west to Via Antiqua.
He raises his rifle, flips on the laser sight, and takes aim at the back of the head of a Raksasha that is standing in the doorway of Moca Loco coffee shop terrorizing the patrons inside. As the Raksaha leaned back to let out another freighting howl, its head transformed into a cloud of red mist from the round fired from Treylar’s assault rifle before it’s lifeless body collapses in the doorway.
A split second later Treylar appears inside the coffee shop amongst the shrieks from the rattled coffee patrons, from having teleported from across the street. "Everyone, quickly get behind the counter, keep your heads down, and stay quiet! Someone lock the door after I leave!" He then turns back to the dead Raksasha and drags the corpse inside the shop before heading back outside and securely closing the door behind him.
Upon exiting the coffee shop, he hears the clicking sound of the lock behind him, and turns to see one of patrons diving back behind the counter.
As he is peeking around the corner to his left and looking down the street towards Pangea he notices something amongst one of the racks of clothes, but before he can take aim, the first euphoric wave from the painkiller he took earlier hit causing Treylar to close his eyes, and take a brief moment to savor the effect.
He is snapped out of his brief daze by the crackling reports of gunfire, and magic coming from Ealdwic Park, and then Treylar begins sprinting to investigate the source of the commotion.
Treylar arrives to see two new Templar recruits fending off three Raksasha. He again raises his rifle and targets the closest Raksasha with the laser sight on his rifle before the demon’s head explodes in a cloud of red mist. The attention of the other two are turned towards Treylar, and upon seeing an opportunity to regroup, both recruits fall back to a more defensible position on the other side of the park.
After seeing one of its kin killed, both demons charge towards Treylar and are greeted with an Explosive Grenade which tosses both of them off their feet. A single gunshot is heard after Treylar teleports to one of the Raksaha that is squirming, and groaning while on its back on the ground.
The last image this demon will ever see is the muzzle flash from both of Treylar’s pistols each firing a single round into its forehead.
A sound behind him makes Treylar turn around in just enough time to see the fist from the last Raksasha before it hits his head, and then in the ribs, and finally hard enough to fling him several meters away, and both pistols out of his hands.
As Treylar crawls to his feet, he can see the two recruits use thier combined abilities to fell the third.
"You two! Get to ... the Argatha entrance!", Treylar shouts, "Hold them there!", by now he his again back on is feet and, after giving the two recruits a directions that will help contain the situation. He nearly falls over when he bends down to gather up his lost pistols, before heading back towards Pangea with his ears still ringing in his head.
In the dimly lit entrance of The Bazalgette he is talking with another Templar Agent, “Always’a pleasure doin’ business wit’cha Trey!”
“Likewise.”, was Treylar’s only response as he pops a pill into his mouth then puts the lid on the bottle, and quickly stashes it inside the right front pocket of his baggy jeans. As he chews up the pill, a sour expression come across his face before finally swallowing the tiny remnants.
“Mmm, good batch! My compliments to the chef. Double my order for next ...”, his head is quickly drawn upwards as he is interrupted by the sounds of a woman screaming, and random gunfire that have now begun to echo down the cylindrical metal chamber from nearby the street entrance level followed by the distinct sound of a Raksasha Howl.
Treylar turns back to the other Templar Agent and starts giving orders, “Gather as many as you can; Do NOT let them get to Argatha! Defend the entrance to Argatha!”
Still somewhat baffled, the other Templar Agent stares back at Treylar with his mouth gaping wide open as if to say something.
Treylar grabs the collar of the other Agent’s uniform and pulls him closer to snap him out of the Agent’s shocked state, “DEFEND the Argatha entrance! Get everyone along the way to help you! GO!”, and with that, Treylar shoves the other Agent towards the tunnels, and sprints up the spiral staircase, once at street level, heads west to Via Antiqua.
He raises his rifle, flips on the laser sight, and takes aim at the back of the head of a Raksasha that is standing in the doorway of Moca Loco coffee shop terrorizing the patrons inside. As the Raksaha leaned back to let out another freighting howl, its head transformed into a cloud of red mist from the round fired from Treylar’s assault rifle before it’s lifeless body collapses in the doorway.
A split second later Treylar appears inside the coffee shop amongst the shrieks from the rattled coffee patrons, from having teleported from across the street. "Everyone, quickly get behind the counter, keep your heads down, and stay quiet! Someone lock the door after I leave!" He then turns back to the dead Raksasha and drags the corpse inside the shop before heading back outside and securely closing the door behind him.
Upon exiting the coffee shop, he hears the clicking sound of the lock behind him, and turns to see one of patrons diving back behind the counter.
As he is peeking around the corner to his left and looking down the street towards Pangea he notices something amongst one of the racks of clothes, but before he can take aim, the first euphoric wave from the painkiller he took earlier hit causing Treylar to close his eyes, and take a brief moment to savor the effect.
He is snapped out of his brief daze by the crackling reports of gunfire, and magic coming from Ealdwic Park, and then Treylar begins sprinting to investigate the source of the commotion.
Treylar arrives to see two new Templar recruits fending off three Raksasha. He again raises his rifle and targets the closest Raksasha with the laser sight on his rifle before the demon’s head explodes in a cloud of red mist. The attention of the other two are turned towards Treylar, and upon seeing an opportunity to regroup, both recruits fall back to a more defensible position on the other side of the park.
After seeing one of its kin killed, both demons charge towards Treylar and are greeted with an Explosive Grenade which tosses both of them off their feet. A single gunshot is heard after Treylar teleports to one of the Raksaha that is squirming, and groaning while on its back on the ground.
The last image this demon will ever see is the muzzle flash from both of Treylar’s pistols each firing a single round into its forehead.
A sound behind him makes Treylar turn around in just enough time to see the fist from the last Raksasha before it hits his head, and then in the ribs, and finally hard enough to fling him several meters away, and both pistols out of his hands.
As Treylar crawls to his feet, he can see the two recruits use thier combined abilities to fell the third.
"You two! Get to ... the Argatha entrance!", Treylar shouts, "Hold them there!", by now he his again back on is feet and, after giving the two recruits a directions that will help contain the situation. He nearly falls over when he bends down to gather up his lost pistols, before heading back towards Pangea with his ears still ringing in his head.
Re: The Crucible
A single rifle shot briefly drowns the occasional Raksaha howl, and the symphony of gunfire that was now coming from all around Treylar. After leaving Ealdwic Park, he took cover kneeling behind a mailbox along the sidewalk, and is providing sniper support to the east, and to the north, from his position at the corner of Redcrosse Circus & Ealdwic Square.
The combination of adrenaline, drugs, and alcohol from earlier in the Crucible, are now flowing wildly through his system which has now slowed Treylar’s heart rate causing a perceived moment of clarity.
Movement from the corner of his left eye causes him to swing his rifle to the left, and target the right hip of a Raksasha attempting to chase down a small group attempting to to fall back inside the B&D Bank. He fires a single round striking the intended target crippling the pursuing demon.
After hearing scuffling sounds from his right Treylar swings his rifle in the direction where the sound came from only to find a single Templar agent running towards him. The agent had rounded the corner from the far side of the Pangea market with two Raksasha in tow; the agent saw the flash from Treylar’s rifle when he took his last shot.
Treylar uses his left arm to point to the corner of the building on the opposite side of the street.
Treylar notices the agent make a movement to suggest acknowledgement and the agent changes direction giving a clear shot to one of the Raksasha. Treylar takes advantage of this brief moment, and quickly takes aim at the demon’s head, and takes the shot which strikes the demon, luckily, killing it outright. The second demon is a few meters behind and alters course to intercept the killer of its kin as a red dot appears and hovers around its right shoulder.
The agent skids around the corner just as Treylar fires on the second Raksasha. The force of the impact causes it spin around, and fall to the ground stopping its advance. He looks to his left, directly across the street, to find the agent pointing both of his pistols towards his direction. The agent unleashes on the Raksasha closing on Treylar’s position from behind. In a single motion Treylar drops his rifle to unholster his pistols, falls to the side of the mailbox, and riddles the corpse of the Raksasha with bullets as it falls to the ground.
As Treylar is getting off his back on the ground to resume a kneeling position; he also holsters both pistols and picks back up his rifle. The agent shouts from across the street, “Got your back!”, which is barely audible over the sounds of chaos breaking loose in London.
“I’owe you a drink! Push to the bank; Where are these damned things coming from?!”, Treylar shouts back.
The agent’s first response is drowned out by the sound of a crash east of their position. The agent shouts again, “Temple Hall!”
Treylar momentarily gives a confused look to the Templar agent before responding back, “I owe you a drink! Meet'cha in the Hall! GO!”
He watches the agent take off in the direction of the B&D Bank. He starts to take off towards Via Antiqua, but stumbles over his own two feet causing him to nearly fall. He stops briefly to recover his balance before beginning to run again; as he passes the second Raksasha, he fires a round into its head.
The combination of adrenaline, drugs, and alcohol from earlier in the Crucible, are now flowing wildly through his system which has now slowed Treylar’s heart rate causing a perceived moment of clarity.
Movement from the corner of his left eye causes him to swing his rifle to the left, and target the right hip of a Raksasha attempting to chase down a small group attempting to to fall back inside the B&D Bank. He fires a single round striking the intended target crippling the pursuing demon.
After hearing scuffling sounds from his right Treylar swings his rifle in the direction where the sound came from only to find a single Templar agent running towards him. The agent had rounded the corner from the far side of the Pangea market with two Raksasha in tow; the agent saw the flash from Treylar’s rifle when he took his last shot.
Treylar uses his left arm to point to the corner of the building on the opposite side of the street.
Treylar notices the agent make a movement to suggest acknowledgement and the agent changes direction giving a clear shot to one of the Raksasha. Treylar takes advantage of this brief moment, and quickly takes aim at the demon’s head, and takes the shot which strikes the demon, luckily, killing it outright. The second demon is a few meters behind and alters course to intercept the killer of its kin as a red dot appears and hovers around its right shoulder.
The agent skids around the corner just as Treylar fires on the second Raksasha. The force of the impact causes it spin around, and fall to the ground stopping its advance. He looks to his left, directly across the street, to find the agent pointing both of his pistols towards his direction. The agent unleashes on the Raksasha closing on Treylar’s position from behind. In a single motion Treylar drops his rifle to unholster his pistols, falls to the side of the mailbox, and riddles the corpse of the Raksasha with bullets as it falls to the ground.
As Treylar is getting off his back on the ground to resume a kneeling position; he also holsters both pistols and picks back up his rifle. The agent shouts from across the street, “Got your back!”, which is barely audible over the sounds of chaos breaking loose in London.
“I’owe you a drink! Push to the bank; Where are these damned things coming from?!”, Treylar shouts back.
The agent’s first response is drowned out by the sound of a crash east of their position. The agent shouts again, “Temple Hall!”
Treylar momentarily gives a confused look to the Templar agent before responding back, “I owe you a drink! Meet'cha in the Hall! GO!”
He watches the agent take off in the direction of the B&D Bank. He starts to take off towards Via Antiqua, but stumbles over his own two feet causing him to nearly fall. He stops briefly to recover his balance before beginning to run again; as he passes the second Raksasha, he fires a round into its head.
Re: The Crucible
She had expected it to be easy.
As right as it felt when the picked up the blades....or the chaos focus. That last in particular.... something had just clicked. As soon as she touched the contorted face of the focus she felt a connection to it. She KNEW it.
It was not so with the whip.
She tried staring at it.
Nothing.
Picking it up didn't seem to do much better. She could certainly feel the anima in it. She could feel that already, it was bonded to her as much as any other weapon she had picked up since her enlistment. But that still didn't help her DO anything with it.
It lay curled pleasantly in her hand, supple, rich brown leather, viper tipped tongue. How hard could it be? Indiana Jones could do it. And yet....her heart fluttered. A trepidation. A satisfactions?
What ever the missing 13 year had contained it did not contain training for a whip. There WAS satisfactions in that.
She was so lost in thought that she had utterly failed to notice Tom's approach until he cleared his throat. By the time she had turned around, her weapons were already out and turned on him. He waved it way so casually that it made Aria wonder how many times a day he was, or almost was, attacked in this room. She didn't apologize, just shrugged and holstered her claws, snuffing the chaos that rose around her. For his part he just looked at her.
"Problem?" Tom asked. "You're not getting squeamish at you?"
She shook her head. No, she had dealt with enough of the demons to have developed a deep hatred for them out in the field. Instead she held out the whip, looking distressed. "I don't know how to use this." As if that was all the explanation he needed. It was all she was going to provide.
Without a word he took it from her hand, uncoiling it languidly. His arm twitched sending the viper tip skidding across the floor like a dog on a leash. His movements were short, flowing. Wordless. Muscles flexing, rigidly controlled, he made the whip dance as if it were a living thing. Little flickers of the wrist sending tsunami waves down the length. Elegant, poetic.
Until it bit.
The tip touching flesh. Tearing. Searing. The pain spread from that single point on her shoulder, numbing her arm as it burned across the left side of her body.
"OW."
He smiled and gave it back, turning on a heel an walking to some other unfortunate soul, leaving her with her coiled serpent. She turned back to the demon, determined. She had seen the way his arm moved. The way the muscles rippled beneath the skin. This was a nuanced weapon. Keeping what he showed her in mind, she let the coil drop, sending a shiver along the length. It did not dance like it did for Tom. It was defying her.
Admittedly, shoving a fistful of blades into someones chest cavity didn't exactly require grace, but still. She glared at her arm as if it had betrayed her, willing it to make the same short movements that the Templar chief weapons instructor had demonstrated only moments before. And it moved. Just not in the way she had expected, the tip biting into her leg and wrapping around in a vicious sting causing her eyes to water.
Lashing out at the demon proved to be a mistake as she hit one of the shackles instead and bounced the business end back into her face. Only the safety goggles that Tom insisted everyone wear stopped it from taking out an eye. But Alas, it did not stop it from leaving a nasty gash across her face.
Attempt 3, 10 and 15 did not go much better, though by now, she was covered in angry red welts which she refused to heal, leaving their burning sting as a reminder of her frustration. She was exhausted and starving by the time she finally called it a night.
One thing for sure....this was going to take a LOT more practice.
As right as it felt when the picked up the blades....or the chaos focus. That last in particular.... something had just clicked. As soon as she touched the contorted face of the focus she felt a connection to it. She KNEW it.
It was not so with the whip.
She tried staring at it.
Nothing.
Picking it up didn't seem to do much better. She could certainly feel the anima in it. She could feel that already, it was bonded to her as much as any other weapon she had picked up since her enlistment. But that still didn't help her DO anything with it.
It lay curled pleasantly in her hand, supple, rich brown leather, viper tipped tongue. How hard could it be? Indiana Jones could do it. And yet....her heart fluttered. A trepidation. A satisfactions?
What ever the missing 13 year had contained it did not contain training for a whip. There WAS satisfactions in that.
She was so lost in thought that she had utterly failed to notice Tom's approach until he cleared his throat. By the time she had turned around, her weapons were already out and turned on him. He waved it way so casually that it made Aria wonder how many times a day he was, or almost was, attacked in this room. She didn't apologize, just shrugged and holstered her claws, snuffing the chaos that rose around her. For his part he just looked at her.
"Problem?" Tom asked. "You're not getting squeamish at you?"
She shook her head. No, she had dealt with enough of the demons to have developed a deep hatred for them out in the field. Instead she held out the whip, looking distressed. "I don't know how to use this." As if that was all the explanation he needed. It was all she was going to provide.
Without a word he took it from her hand, uncoiling it languidly. His arm twitched sending the viper tip skidding across the floor like a dog on a leash. His movements were short, flowing. Wordless. Muscles flexing, rigidly controlled, he made the whip dance as if it were a living thing. Little flickers of the wrist sending tsunami waves down the length. Elegant, poetic.
Until it bit.
The tip touching flesh. Tearing. Searing. The pain spread from that single point on her shoulder, numbing her arm as it burned across the left side of her body.
"OW."
He smiled and gave it back, turning on a heel an walking to some other unfortunate soul, leaving her with her coiled serpent. She turned back to the demon, determined. She had seen the way his arm moved. The way the muscles rippled beneath the skin. This was a nuanced weapon. Keeping what he showed her in mind, she let the coil drop, sending a shiver along the length. It did not dance like it did for Tom. It was defying her.
Admittedly, shoving a fistful of blades into someones chest cavity didn't exactly require grace, but still. She glared at her arm as if it had betrayed her, willing it to make the same short movements that the Templar chief weapons instructor had demonstrated only moments before. And it moved. Just not in the way she had expected, the tip biting into her leg and wrapping around in a vicious sting causing her eyes to water.
Lashing out at the demon proved to be a mistake as she hit one of the shackles instead and bounced the business end back into her face. Only the safety goggles that Tom insisted everyone wear stopped it from taking out an eye. But Alas, it did not stop it from leaving a nasty gash across her face.
Attempt 3, 10 and 15 did not go much better, though by now, she was covered in angry red welts which she refused to heal, leaving their burning sting as a reminder of her frustration. She was exhausted and starving by the time she finally called it a night.
One thing for sure....this was going to take a LOT more practice.
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