knightsoflegend | manhattan ♔ there is no knot so steadfast | it won't go broke in the middle of monsoons

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manhattan ♔ there is no knot so steadfast | it won't go broke in the middle of monsoons

♬ two years before the mast - astronautalis

WHO || Violet Reedhym, Luthir Reedhym, Myrilandel de Tanos, Finnick Odair, Anastacia O'Keefe, Faith O'Keefe, Nicholas Starkweather
WHAT || The Knights attempt to free Vi from the influence of the Nightmare God Malaak'a
WHERE || Manhattan, New York
WHEN || June 7th, 2014
HOW || Actionspam. Single thread.

Some choices are almost impossible to make. For a year, the Knights have watched Violet fading, the way she always does with the winter thanks to her connection to her mother Persephone. Except in this case, there was no getting better with the arrival of spring. If anything, she's only spiraled further into depression, and it's clear that if this continues, it will spell the end of her sooner than later.

Keijen Blade appeared to several of the Knights in their dreams, to caution them of Vi's impending fate, and to tell them that their plan to save her will end in blood. Of course, he had his own alternative to offer: that she take a deal from Malaak'a that would allow the god to see through her eyes into this world. Realizing that the plan offered by Sehanine to use Faith O'Keefe's dreamwalking ability to sever the connection might simply result in someone giving their life to save hers, Vi agreed to take the offer in one month. However, on the evening of their wedding, Luthir talked her into going through with the goddess' plan, promising not to go into her dream with them.

Their car pulls up in front of Des' horrible rundown apartment building, where they're meant to track down Nicholas Starkweather - a friend of Des', who is apparently also a unicorn. Look, he knows people.

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[ ♬ cloudbank - julianna barwick

luthir gives vi a boost through the window before hopping in gracefully after her. the moment their feet hit the ground, however, the scene looks vastly different than it did through the 'window'. the ground is covered in dead leaves and plants, the sky above them clouded and gray. the air itself feels dead. only ahead, behind a strange grove of trees that seem bent together and moving slightly, does she see a bright living light that appears to be held back by the copse.

luthir takes a few steps that way, staring in wonder, and as he gets closer he can see that the trees are actually made of that shadow material, and aren't trees at all, so much as grasping horrible hands, the branches fingers, that are keeping that light at bay. he stops and turns back to her, amazed and disturbed by the sight as realization slams home. ]

I think it's-- what's been trying to return to you since spring came, Helillóte.

He has been holding it back from you.

[ she stoops down, brushing her fingers against the dead plants. poor dears. ] Is it weird... that knowing this is what I feel like... makes me feel better?

[ it's nothing, just some crinkly dead leaves and stale air, but it's a tangible, physical presence of vi's depression. it's nothing, but it's like a picture of her emotions and seeing it makes it easier to reconcile in her mind.

and there, in the back, what she's supposed to feel. ] I'm guessing we can't just stroll on over to it, can we?

[ ♬ sleep - my chemical romance

he opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out because he's staring at that river of shadow stuff that's been leaking over the sides from the throne room into the 'garden'... and is now winding its way across the cracked tiles to the space between them and the tree, where it rises in an oily eerie spiral to fashion itself into a figure who grows taller and taller - a familiar outline to vi - but only his outline. a nightmare shadow silhouette of the armored nightmare lord himself, carrying a sword which oozes more of that wispy shadow substance, making its outline hard to decipher.

glowing red eyes fixate on violet, and she can feel the weight of that terrible familiar gaze boring into the small remnant of her soul that she does still carry - that she doesn't have hostage behind that wall of shadow.

CHILD.

YOU HAVE BEEN FOREWARNED. YET, STILL YOU RESIST ME. ]

I'm my mother's daughter. [ she doesn't so much as flinch (will save nat 20) as she moves to stand between luthir and her literal nightmare. she's terrified, but luthir is here because she asked him to be. this is her fight. ] It's a force of habit.

[ luthir tenses when she moves in front of him, tightening his grip on the hilt of his blade. ]

She isn't interested in what you have to say.

[ the shadow creature tilts its head the tiniest bit, shifting its gaze between them. it has no visible mouth, and its voice seems to resound more inside their heads than anywhere else.

THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE.

THERE IS NO WAY YOU CAN DEFEAT ME IN COMBAT. NOT HERE, IN MY DOMAIN. NOT AS WEAK AS YOU ARE, IN STRENGTH OF BODY, MIND, AND SOUL.

YOU ARE A SHRED OF NOTHING NOW.

RELENT. COME TO ME FOR THE POWER YOU CANNOT MUSTER ON YOUR OWN. ]

You know nothing. [ jon snow. she's still scared, fingers trembling still as she pulls out an arrow, but her voice is firm. as firm as it can be in the face of this. ] I'm a princess. The entire Underworld is my birthright. Life and death are my domains.

And you know what? [ she raises her bow. ] I'm a woman. That makes me better than you by default.

[ the shadow laughs,a horrible sound that sends shudders down their spines, as luthir's cheek twitches with barely constrained anger.

YOUR ARROGANCE IS UNFOUNDED IN THIS REALM, WHERE YOUR UNDERWORLD IS BUT ONE OF A THOUSAND HELLS, AN INSIGNIFICANT DIMENSION FOR WORSHIPPERS OF DEAD GODS TO ROT IN.

THE LORD OF NIGHTMARES BENDS TO NO WOMAN. HAD YOU CONVINCED YOURSELF THAT I HAD NEED OF YOU? THAT YOU WERE IN ANY WAY IMPORTANT TO MY PLANS? THAT IT EVER HAD TO BE YOU, VIOLET REEDHYM?

YOU FOOLISH GIRL. YOU WERE SO EAGER TO BELIEVE THAT YOU MATTERED. DIVINE OR NO, THE BLOOD THAT TAINTS YOUR VEINS IS FULLY HUMAN - A HUMAN GODDESS AND A HUMAN FATHER. THAT LESSER RACE SERVES AS NOTHING BETTER THAN SLAVES - AND PAWNS, AS YOU HAVE BEEN.

I ONLY CAME TO YOU BECAUSE YOU WERE FOOL ENOUGH TO OPEN A DOORWAY INTO YOUR MIND FOR ME. AND NOW YOUR NIGHTMARES HAVE NOURISHED ME FOR YEARS IN MY DOMAIN. YOUR DELICIOUS FEAR.

AND NOW I WILL DEVOUR YOU, NOW THAT YOUR USEFULNESS HAS ENDED. ]

[ she's used to being a pawn. that's the reason gods had children on the first place, to move around a cosmic chessboard trying to one up the other. she's known from the start that she is easily replaceable and she's said as much -- she was easy access, an unwrapped present at his doorstep and she put herself there. he's not telling her anything she doesn't know.

except she does matter. certainly not to him and in the big picture she doubts very much at all. but to her family, she knows she does. to this world, she matters. she wants to tell him he's wrong, but she doesn't think it matters very much. instead her eyes narrow as she pulls back the string a bit more before releasing it. (atk nat 20, 31 total; dmg 15; fucking shadows.)

he messed with jade, he was probably fucking with nadia and he was holding keijen's freedom hostage the same way he was holding her soul. except vi could fight back. so she was going to. ]

Edited 2014-06-18 00:27 (UTC)

[ fucking shadows indeed. because vi's shot goes sailing straight through malaak'as forehead... uselessly clattering to the ground behind him. he laughs again, that hideous low sound, and luthir grimaces. ] Strike him enough and we'll find something to hit. [ and he's going to go try to prove that by charging forward past vi, slicing violently across with his longsword (atk 37, dmg 15). in fact, his attack does slice through the shadowy armor, so apparently HE WAS RIGHT. so there, he made up for that damage, bb ]

[ nope, nope, gtf away from him, boyfriend. danger will robinson! too close! vi follows up his swordplay with a pair of her lovely pink arrows. (atk 25 & 20 total; dmg 4 & 10) they look absurd in the gloom, bright and cheerful against the dead leaves and plants littered across the ground. ]

Kill it 'til it dies, got it.

[ both of violet's arrows also strike this time! causing tendrils of shadow to erupt where they strike.

instead of reaching for his own sword, the shadow reaches out and grips luthir's arm (atk 23). black lines start seeping up it, his skin paling between the spider web of veins. he grits his teeth, keeping from yelling out as he breaks his arm away, but he's gasping, the grip on his own sword looking weaker. that doesn't stop him from swinging again, (atk 29, 28, 15, 27). three of them would have landed, but only one actually slices through him, the others uselessly sliding through malaak'a as if he were mere air. (dmg 12) ]

Get off of him! [ she's seen luthir slice and dice a salami monster (no, of course she doesn't remember what it's called, nor does she care) whilst bleeding profusely from the actual gaping wound in his neck. she knows he can handle himself. doesn't mean she wants a psychopathic shadow god touching her husband. she follows up with another pair of arrows, one of them going unfortunately wide. (atk 27 & 13; dmg 9) ]

[ her arrow hits again, more shadow tendrils spiraling off from its body, but it doesn't stop it from reaching out again to grip luthir by the neck this time. those dark lines spread up his neck, and he pales further, a cry escaping his throat this time, because owww.

he rips away again, twirling his blade wildly. the shadow manifests and vanishes beneath his blade here and there, and he only gets in one good slice that actually hits again, despite his flawless aim (24, 32, 29, 23, dmg 9). ]

[ no!!! she can't hold back her horrified shriek at what he is doing to luthir, but as much as she wants to rush to his side and drag him away, she knows the better course of action is to just keep firing and hope something hits. this time, however, she pulls on the magic she's still a little afraid of, flinging her hand out and hurling a huge thorn at him. with her right hand. des would be so proud. (heightened wicked barb atk; dmg 23) ]

Edited 2014-06-18 01:32 (UTC)

[ ♬ silhouettes - of monsters and men

the thorn actually sticks through the miasma where his shoulder would be and his back arches as he lets out a hiss of annoyance, the barb strangely jutting through the mass of shadow. rather than try to remove it, the shadow slams a hand against luthir's chest again, and this time the veins creep all the way up past his collar to his neck again as he lets out a groan, barely managing to stay standing but struggling against the urge to sink to his knees.

he glances over at vi, a hint of fear in his own eyes as they involuntarily shoot to her stomach. the unspoken message is clear - he doesn't want her to take the front line when she's carrying their unborn child. still, he gets a nat 20 wisdom check to realize something and says between gritted teeth: ] The trees, Vi. Free the light. [ he nods over towards the shadowy hands that are holding back the flood of light, and takes a step back away, leading shadow malaak'a after him so that there's a clear path to it as he expertly swings his blade in a deadly web in front of him (atk 38, 24, 18, and he'll forfeit his last attack to parry malaaka's next blow so that he can't land it). miraculously, every blow lands, but his strikes seem decidedly weaker than before, all three of them just barely managing to add up to the strength of his initial blow (dmg 15 total) ]

How! [ she doesn't care what he wants right now. she doesn't even care about the little heartbeat fluttering too lightly to even feel. she's not attached to it, she doesn't even want it right now. she cares about luthir, she wants luthir, and she's terrified. she can't lose him.

but she darts forward without waiting for an answer, ignoring malaak'a because she knows leaving the thorn in there will do more damage -- or at least she hopes it does, remembering the way it pulsed and throbbed as it stuck out of des' shoulder (additional 10 dmg).

as she gets closer to the "trees" and the light she sees so much more clearly that they're not trees at all and her stomach bottoms out. she doesn't know how to fight a shadow. but she has to try, so she brings up her bow and fires at one. (atk nat 20, 31 total; dmg 10) ]

Edited 2014-06-18 03:29 (UTC)

[ her arrow shoots into the 'heart' of one of the giant clawlike hands that look so much like trees from afar, but the darkness envelops it, and the arrow vanishes into the inkiness.

luthir keeps backing away, repeating his movements with slower, weaker strikes, two of which manage to land, as he again prevents malaaka's blow from landing (atk 21, 21, 22, dmg 19). ] Keep... trying.

[ barely keeping the tears from her eyes, she does keep trying. (atk 22 & 26; dmg 8 & 24) she doesn't know what else to do and every fiber of her being is telling her to run back to luthir and rip malaak'a's shadow spine out and beat him to death with it, but when she told luthir she would follow him anywhere, she wasn't just saying that. if he's telling her to keep trying then she is going to keep trying. she's not planning another funeral.

oh and another 12 dmg if the barb stays in for this round. that will have to stand in for the spine ripping. ]

Edited (whoops, forgot that important bit there.) 2014-06-18 17:16 (UTC)

[ ♬ what if this storm ends - snow patrol

the barb drops down as he de-materializes instead, clattering to the ground. the first of vi's arrows is also swallowed up by the darkness... but the second one not only strikes true, but did so with a 100% - striking the shadow when it's materialized at its utmost point.

it rips straight through the shadowed claws, which vanish entirely in its wake, and there's a blinding flash as light erupts out from where it had been restrained (dc 18 to not be blinded for one round) filling the garden. everywhere the light touches, life explodes: the sky, ground, plants, the very air itself changing in an instant around them, green, verdant, and pulsing with energy.

more than this, of course, is the effect it has on violet.

in a world without magic, those who suffer from a more clinical sort of depression might dream of a magic light-switch that could turn it off, but they could never conceive of the abruptness with which vi's soul comes flooding back to her now, bringing with it everything that usually seeps in so gradually as spring returns - every depth of emotion, obliterating apathy in its wake, a shocking sensation akin to being pulled out of water when one was in the midst of drowning.

luthir, however, fails his fortitude save (fort 15) whereas shadow!malaak'a looks utterly unaffected. blinded, he is nevertheless relentless, and keeps swinging ferociously. the first attack actually manages to connect with the mass of shadows - but passes right through it as it phases out of corporeal form (atk 23). his next attack, however, is a crit fail, and he winds up swinging directly into the shadow's oncoming grasp. it tightens its claws directly inside his chest, draining the very last of his remaining... 4 Str that he'd been running on.

he sinks down onto his knees, everything seeming to slow down as the black veins climb up his face, his eyes going wide as he stares up at the thing's featureless, formless, merciless gaze. luthir's sword clatters to the ground beside him, and malaak'a violently pulls his hand out, letting the body collapse next to it. ]

[ it's only turning away from the light that saves her eyes (fort save 20 total) but what she sees makes her wish she was blind.

the scream that is ripped from violet's lungs isn't even a word, just a helpless shriek. the only redeeming quality of not feeling anything is that it included not feeling the bad things. it was just nothing. and now, suddenly, she can feel everything, but it's singularly focused on one thing: her heart, shattering in her chest.

her bow drops from her fingers and she rushes back, falling violently to her knees next to luthir. no. she doesn't want this, not at this price. malaak'a is completely ignored. what else can he even do to hurt her?

her hands flutter across luthir's chest weakly, fingers slipping across his cheek to cradle his head. she doesn't even think before she's healing him, or trying to, it's just a natural reaction. he's hurt, she's fixing him. (infuse with life +21 hp) ] No, no, you're fine. You're okay. You have to be okay.

[ her spell, unfortunately, can only repair damage to his body, and his body is whole - just entirely drained of strength, limp and lifeless in her arms. however, as she holds him, and malaak'a laughs cruelly and emptily over her, luthir's body starts to become less substantial, turning black and wispy like smoke.

shadow. ]

No! [ she slams her hand against his chest like she's punching him. maybe she is, maybe she's hit that stage of hysterical grief. he can't die. but when her palm hits him, she gives him the same burst of energy that she gave to elena. just something, anything, to keep him here with her and whole. the healing wasn't working, she has to try something else. (heightened quick boost + 4 strength for three rounds -- wisdom 22 to chose strength)

she turns to look back through the broken windows, her scream cracked and brittle like the dead leaves surrounding them. ] Faith!!

[ it's lucky for her, perhaps, that her palm goes right through him as he turns into shadow material, because that +4 would have gone to ... his shadow self. who reforms, standing in front of her - nothing like the luthir she has known, merely a silhouette of his form as he had been moments before.

faith bangs on the glass that reformed, keeping her and nick at bay, refusing to shatter and allow them access to the garden. she yells, muffled: ]

Vi, you have to finish it!

Don't let it be for nothing.

[He's kind and doesn't say... what everyone is thinking right now, but still. There's a unicorn attempting to kick open the glass with a hoof.] You still have a piece of him within you. You must fight for it!

[ eavesdrop - the civil wars ]

I can't. [ she whimpers, tears clouding her eyes. she doesn't want it, she wants him. he's not supposed to be the one who dies. she's the delicate one, the divine one, she's meant to die young. he was always going to outlive her because she stubbornly refused to believe otherwise.

she reacts blindly, letting muscle memory take over, a voice in her head answering her pitiful doubts. what if she messes up? you won't. the bow coalesces back into her hands (con 16) as she stands and turns to the shadow of the god that had been tormenting her for so long. the god that had stolen her very best friend from her like smoke in a breeze. (atk nat 20, 31 total; dmg 12) ]

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moonheart - 2014-06-19 06:52 (UTC) - Expand

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manhattan ♔ there is no knot so steadfast | it won't go broke in the middle of monsoons

garden ♔ luthir & vi

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