Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Tiranoth: Downtown Kahleann

Fishman

Fishman

Broseidon
Benefactor
Downtown liked to buzz during late evenings, especially when the sun had just begun to set over the horizon. All types of people, mortal and undead, had adjusted to a graveyard lifestyle. As the sun sank, floating lanterns all around lit up like fireflies.

Through the buzz, someone stood atop the basin to one of many fountains within the area. The woman looked naked of the skin that her dress was made of, contrasting a dark red to the pale surface. She rose her hands up and preached to those below her: "Listen to my words! Do not fall prey to the *blind hag that pretends to lead you all into prosperity! It is only through the words I speak that we will find redemption for falling into the wrong path, towards the sun that blinds you and not the darkness that whispers truth!"

Now and again, someone would stop to stare at the ghastly woman, but eventually, they walked away, shook their heads, and let the crazy one babble.

It wasn't until she began to dig her nails into her palms and draw bloody lines onto the fountain did anyone rush over to question or stop her.

Every person that did suddenly dropped to the ground, either dead or fainted. Several mages tried to encounter her, only to fall to the ground as well. Downtown was suddenly in a state of panic.

The skinless woman chanted, raising her palms into the air.

"You shall learn!"

____________________________________________________________________

*The current Vergobret has no eyes in her skull, but all of her hats and crowns do.
 
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Something furry and not quite ferocious started to grumble. The creature’s nostrils flared, tasting the foul air that it had become accustomed too. Even this dog wouldn’t yap for rotting meat. His pale, fuzzy ears pressed back against his half-visible skull whilst his teeth slipped out of his muzzle.

“You hear that, Bounce? Would you learn if I behaved more like that? You should be more grate-“

The dog was gone. Bounce stalked – or, tried to, the way his skeletal legs were contorted made him more frog-like – closer to the commotion.

“Heel” his owner Charlie hissed. But Bounce really didn’t learn, though Charlie had mused that that could be down to his genuine lack of brain. A bit of which was wobbling by his most floppy left ear.

Charlie seemed to grow even more sullen as he edged his way from his alleyway where he could make out the crazy lady if he craned his twisted neck a little. As he peered out, the light didn’t do much to warm him up. The greenish hue to his skin tended to prevent that.

Bounce was shamelessly sniffing around the bodies, looking for something tasty. Tongue lolling, his single eye seemed to catch the flash of red on the fountain. He stopped in his tracks and barked loudly amidst the chaos. Oblivious, his tail started to wag.
 
Gilles Laveau had been awoken from his slumber recently by a Tell and this fact had him rather annoyed as he made his way downtown this evening. Not that sleep was a necessity to him, but it was appreciated as an enjoyable way to spend the day hours waiting for most of the populace to start their nocturnal socialization. Being awoken was still an irksome experience and, more importantly, the incident he was informed of wouldn't leave him time to get properly dressed. Not that he was about to put on his good clothes for what may end up a scuffle -simply some casual clothes hidden under a trench coat - but not being able to put effort into his appearance before going out just seemed distasteful. Though not nearly as distasteful as the scene unraveling before him, so he tucked such gripes into the back of his mind for later.
[narcissism's distasteful 'nuff mistah bones]
​
Ignoring the voice being projected in his head, he used a foot to brush aside the specter of a black cat nuzzling into his leg that the Loa had currently taken form of. Threading his way between the stragglers that were still trying to make their way away from the scene, and the curious and foolhardy who decided to remain and rubberneck [or, in one peculiar case, choosing the wrong path to walk their pet], Gilles examined the scene. The skinless lady drawing in blood on the central fountain seemed like the obvious choice for causing all this commotion. And the bodies surrounding her near vicinity suggested that approaching her may not be the best of choices.

Dropping the major Arcana of the Deserter down at his feet to create a emergency retreat if necessary, he headed over within visible shouting range of the women. He honestly didn't want to handle anyone violently without backup, not for lack of confidence in being able to handle himself in a fight, but for the off chance that that she ended up being more than she seemed. Nonetheless, whatever she was up to had to stop, it seemed enough like ritual magic for Gilles to not want to see the result of her actions. Tossing one of his minor Arcana past the woman's neck as a warning shot, attempting to embed it in part the engravings she made, he'll yell out:

"By the authority of the Vergobret you are being commanded to cease any form of chanting or somatic conjuration. Place your hands behind your back slowly and lie face down on the ground immeditely. Cooperate, and your detention will proceed in a relatively non-intrusive manner. I'll let you can guess yourself how it will go if you refuse."
 
The skinless woman swiveled her head around to stare at Gilles after the card had been thrown. Her hands slid from the fountain, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. She rose from her kneel and turned to face the zombie, head tilted to the side. "A servant of the hag. You are long gone. Perhaps if you beg, your sacrifice shall be swift."

Pop, pop, crack, pop

Before they knew it, the skinless woman's body began to deform and break. Her torso lurched forward, presenting her back to the sky. The skin, the muscle, everything, split open and all at once in a morbid interpretation of giving life, a pale, bloody, screaming creature popped out, squirming unceremoniously. The creature was vaguely human shaped, its arms far too long for its body, or to have condensed inside the woman's body, for that matter. It was covered in a thin membrane that it wiped from its face with a squelch and a wet splatter on the floor, revealing a row of teeth far too wide for its head, all flat and humanlike. Lids rolled back and revealed bulging, froglike eyes that darted around the plaza hungrily.

As the show went on, a figure clad in black skidded to the scene, next to the alleyway where the dog-zombie and his master chose their view. He wasn't a very tall man, but he had a pair of striking, dangerous eyes. Over one shoulder slung an assault rifle, which he took into his arms.

"Laveau!" he called out to his colleague. "I have your back!" Then, looking over his shoulder at his company, he raised a brow. "You haven't left?"
 
More and more, Gilles was getting the impression that the day when the target gave up and made his job easy was not going to be coming to him within this afterlife. He patted down his corduroy coat and produced a cigar which he proceeded to chomp down on. Upon failing to find a lighter in the lining, he frowned and turned his attention back to the the lady's and her inevitable evil speech and was mildly surprised to have found her place taken by something quite decidedly less pleasant-looking to have to fight. One bad thing after another.
[yer pal's close, mistah bones, be sure he ain't become onna those ya' outta keep closa']
​
Gilles' eyes followed the wandering spirit to the the approaching figure of Fraser Milligan, whose leg the feline shadow rubbed up against before hissing at the nearby dog. Feeling now that he adequate back-up in case he somehow messed this up to badly he retrieved the fourteenth Arcana: the Forge. As he charged the creature, the card in his hand transfigured into a large silver Claymore radiating a slight magical aura. Hiding another major Arcana -- sixteen: the Cataclysm -- up his sleeve, he swung wildly and haphazardly at the beast, almost begging for a counterattack.
 
Charlie hadn’t felt real pain in a long time. Couldn’t, even. But the ghost of the sensation still somehow had a way of clouding his consciousness – say - when he saw his leg being torn off by a demon. Which unfortunately happened more than he’d like to admit. And which was keeping him in the shadows.

He had no idea why (he pondered this momentarily whilst his dog made his way over to begin an investigation of what seemed to be a discarded card on the floor).

Charlie scoffed loudly at the newcomers comment, looking away from the grotesque performance the creature was giving with a gag.

“And leave my puppy to be absorbed alive with these sorry lot because you people canny do your job?” he replied haughtily, panic lacing his tone.

‘Puppy’ was a very generous term to describe the wandering thing that seemed oblivious to any danger, yet Charlie still held it dearer to him than anyone else in the world.
 
Fraser sighed, shoulders drooping. "You civilians always baffle me," he complained before turning his gun toward the behemoth before them. He made sure that Gilles went in first before shooting, but before the zombie man could get a hit, the creature slithered completely from the skinless woman's body, revealing a long, scaly tail that made a trail of viscera behind it as it crawled. It just barely skidded free of Gilles' strike. In almost no time at all, it turned around and attempted to strike him, the creature found one of his hands pinned to the ground.

The barrel of Fraser's gun smoked, the runes upon it glowing brightly. Chains attached the creature's hand to the ground, keeping him somewhat stationary though he groped for Gilles' form with another.

While the fight between the zombie and the unholy beast continued, something behind Charlie, Fraser, and the dog, twitched. One of the many bodies that had fallen during the madwoman's chanting was now coming back to life, but not in the Tiranothian way.

Just like the skinless woman, there was a crack and a splurch, and the body twitched and heaved before its back split open to reveal another one of the same monstrosities.
 
While it was disappointing to not see this fight end in a single swing it was expected. What's more, contingencies had been placed that relied on such an outcome. Gilles heard something small and fast zip past him too quickly to discern what it was. Distracted by this and actually caught flatfooted from not expecting the reflexes this sizable monstrosity seemed to possess, Gilles was bolstered with confidence that his ally had his back now that he could identify the bullet as being from Fraser. The creature was trapped; pieces set; hands dealt. Now was the time for a more decisive blow.

The abomination wretched toward him with it's free limb. Gilles grinned wryly, showing off his yellowed teeth [still keeping the cigar in place], and let fly the Cataclysm from his sleeve. As the thrown card danced gracefully down the air in front of the creatures face, suddenly it would explode violently with the force of several pounds of dynamite. Dust and loose debris would scatter at exceeding velocity, the area of the duel being obfuscated by the remnant smoke of the impact. The stone path beneath the source cracked from the force, surely enough to render Gilles into a pile of limbs and viscera if not the creature.

Except Gilles wasn't there. He had instantly traversed the spiritual crossroads to end up back where he had placed the Seventh Arcana: Deserter. He stood there and inhaled, puffing the cigar now lit by the heat of the explosion that he had waited to get close enough before retreating. Placing the heavy claymore upon his shoulder with one hand as he took the cigar out for a second with the other, Gilles looked at the culmination of his battle plan, wanting to make sure the thing had died.
[we is not alone mistah bones -- friend to the enemy is the enemy to our friend]​

Coughing on cigar smoke -- more out of surprise than need for oxygen -- Gilles shot a look back at the Loa that had found itself a place by Fraser's leg, the new beast that was approaching him and... wait, was that a civilian reamaining here? Still? Cursing, Gilles tried sprinting his way over to help.
 
Charlie looked to the sky rather than at the monster that was coming straight for them.

Now would be a fantastic time for one of those special gifts from his owner that came in times of dire need when she apparently didn’t want him crushed to tiny pieces. He’d have preferred to receive them much more often. He found reattaching his own limbs unpleasant.

“I’ve got this, I’ve got this” he chirped, squaring up and shuffling forward. His hands and arms began waving about in a bad imitation of what he had seen mage’s do.
A breeze ran through the area, stirring the water and blowing at hair. Charlie decided to take this as a positive sign. Not a warning.

His face wrinkled into an even uglier mask of desperate concentration as Bounce barked on, snapping his jaws at the creature although it showed little to no interest in him.

Nothing was happening. Still, his fingers twirled about and his arm movements looked even more like flailing.

He definitely did not have this.

Dropping his arms, Charlie looked between the two men who – despite his mocking – were definitely doing a better job than he was. With a cry as the monster drew far too close for his liking, Charlie made a hectic run for it. He headed towards the monster for a moment, then darted off in the direction of his beloved dog. His eyes were half closed, just hoping that the monster was more keen on the others than his.

He snatched his pet up, but a few steps after, fell on him, making one of his eyeballs pop out of place. The dog turned on him, growling and clawing with one eye rolling. But still, Charlie struggled with him. Half-wrestling half-carrying Bounce further from the scene.
 
The behemoth that had birthed itself from the skinless woman's body was met with an explosion, and not one he could easily get away from. When the initial explosion cleared, the downtown area was soon raining gore. Surely, there was someone who'd revel in this storm, but that person wasn't Fraser, who was currently busy trying to immobilize the threat that was currently trying to destroy the civilian and himself.

When Charlie looked to the sky, Fraser was busy unloading into the second monster. Chains plugged the creature into the shop behind it, but this one was different. When Charlie took off, its eyes- and this one opened multiple- all focused on the boy and his dog and surged for him, ripping the chains from its body in bloody jubilation.

This thing went faster than Fraser expected, and in an attempt to reach it, he ignited the magic that was his own and sped up his time. Soon, he became a blue next to the creature as it reached Charlie and groped for his foot. At the same time, Fraser landed an explosive round into the beast's tail.

There was one thing he underestimated, and that was the focus of the monster. If its grab had been successful, Charlie would be slammed into Fraser with the force of a giant hammer. If not, Fraser was grabbed and slammed into Charlie, instead.
 
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