Jump to content

Through the Mirrored Glass and Back Again (IC)


Zeitgeist Blue

Recommended Posts

"If we ever go into my mask, I promise good weather," Masque noted, clothing adjusting to give her as much physical protection as she could - and even then she pulled her cloak in, warding herself against the sand as she stepped through the window and out into the storm. Twice, in fact, and no less - where one Masque stepped into the glass on one side, two stepped out, splitting up to flank Veronica and trusting Ouroboros to watch their backs. "Green fields, sun."

 

"Dogs," the other Masque agreed.

 

"Friendly dogs, who only want to play catch." Even from behind her mask she squinted, trying to look at the sun without...looking at the sun. "Do we know how we're getting the helmet in there? A good throw, maybe, or is it colder than it is bright? I could send the other me to drop it in by hand, but that'll get really unpleasant if it's as dangerous as it looks."

Link to comment
  • Replies 63
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

Ouroboros winced slightly as he stepped through the portal behind his fellow students, "Of course."  he murmured in distress and let out a disgruntled huff.  "I don't really do the whole sun thing."  he offered as he took in the unfolding chaos around them.  "I think I'll be able to provide cover however."  he offered as he summoned forth a spinning disk of mystic light and stepped upon it to follow calling magic to his hands as he rode it aloft, "I'll do my best to keep them off you."  he promised as the coruscating energies he called upon writhed around his arms in preparation for being called upon.  

 

The dhampir held back keeping an open angle of attack on anything that might challenge his fellows progress.

Link to comment

GM

 

Upon the conjured platform and the ability to walk on air the quartet (including one Masque duplicate) descend into the vortex where sands scratch and turn exposed skin raw from exposure. Your platforms hold steady as Ouroboros watches drones tear at each other in the water-filled dimension immediate to the one you had just entered. It is cool and wet there, unlike the heat and dryness that greets you here.

 

The miniature sun, achingly harsh in the distance, beats with the intensity of a dozen noons in a dozen deserts below you. Yet the four of you continue, pushing past the heat and the pain that threatens to seep the strength from your limbs. The promise of greater labors bears on your shoulders as you near the Self, your brows dripping in sweat and your clothes drenched. Though it does not sear his skin like some vampire-kin, the sun's glare seems to be multiplied thrice-fold for Ourboros and his dhampir physiology.

 

Almost unspoken among them, they take formation, hard-won experience dictating that they watch each others' backs, lines of sight agreed upon, magic and weapons ready. With watchful eyes, the Claremonters seek for those who would do them harm. Each one of them possesses the unique ability to perceive magic yet this close to Bellios' Self and their magical sight is as much filled as their normal vision. Magic flows out as water does from a wellspring, bountiful but bewildering. Perhaps each views magic differently, dictated by the source of their powers or training. Dark or light, structured and encompassing from training under the greatest practitioner of the age or fleeting colors like the whimsy of an ancient artifact of many forms or writhing in a primal beat that invites one to explore the unknown places of this world. It fills each of their eyes, overpowering the mundane-ness of swirling sand and glaring sun.

 

Magic unbound.

 

It blinds them.

 

It is only at the last second do two of them, the adventurer in the lead and one of the masks on the flank, notice a figure barring their path. It's body is almost invisible in the storm for the robe it wears is the color of sand too. They see it raise a delicate hand from beneath its sleeve... From behind, an elephantine figure appears in mid-air, armored in head to toe in sand-colored blocks. It resembles a golem and it is leaping for the heedless vampire at the rear of the formation. And beside the other mask who notices the ambush too late, sand shifts against the wind to engulf her in a loose mist of hard-edged sand before it forcefully drives into the fabric of her protective cloth.

 

The figure in front of Veronica speaks in a voice that is like claws screeching against a blackboard. It cuts through the sound of the sandstorm and they hear "Bellios" uttered within its string of profanity-like syllables. Then from thin air she feels clawed hands grasp at her, steel limbs wrap around her body, as several dragging her out of her platform.

 

Masque sees all of this before the intensity of the storm increases, turning the combatants into hazy forms among the sand. Yet with her mage sight she see a number of brands upon their assailants, glowing with the same signature as the Self does but dimmer.

Edited by Zeitgeist Blue
Link to comment
  • 2 weeks later...

Veronica

 

Veronica had not been able to give a shout of warning before the sandstorm and heat was upon them, and the large Golem like figured appeared and attacked Ouroboros, who already seemed weakened some by the bright sunlight and heat in this part of the suit.  Almost immediately after, the teenage Danger saw the magical energies of some other threat coming through the sandstorm.

 

Even as the clawed hands tried to grab ahold of her, Veronica moved away, using her spell to walk up higher into the air and at least temporarily away from the hands.  Pulling out some more of her small curious, she began working on a new spell that might hopefully help her and the others with the intense heat.

 

"Whatever these are, if you two can keep them busy I can try to get the helmet to the Self."   She called out as she finished her spell.

Link to comment

"Aye-aye, Captain!"

 

Masque - the original? - gave a salute and vanished, her cloak twisting in on herself as she stepped from here to there, the sandstorm spitting her out just behind the Sorcerer. She'd never been so thankful for her mask as an actual, physical object over her face - it wasn't perfect protection, but she'd bet it was tougher than her skin in the face of particulate weather. "Sorry, but this location's been declared a no-evil-magic area," she said, dropping her crook-staff out of one sleeve and swatting her foe upside the head with it. It wasn't enough to hurt, but she'd been expecting her own backup, and had to improvise.... "It's being rezoned a park! Very touristy, you understand."

Link to comment

GM

 

Masque's shepherd's crook smashes into the sorcerer's face and it tumbles backwards into the air. Chunks of sand and stone fly outwards from where her crook had landed. A solid hit but when the sorcerer-thing turns to face her she sees the torn, sandy fragments of its face fill up again. It isn't human, doesn't even have flesh or eyes but a growl escapes from its lips nonetheless. It has no eyes but the runes on its head burn a little brighter, angrily. Masque gives it little space to act as she teleports again, her crook mid-swing into its stomach.

 

She hits open air as it teleports away at the last second, a dozen feet above and behind her, a mere shadow within the sandstorm. It pushes a hand forward to rip at Masque's mind but she closes the distance with a short teleport, swinging her crook again. Soon, the illusionist and the sorcerer find themselves in a dance of teleports and counter-teleports, moving through the air as easily as running through an open park. It is dizzying as they arc through the battle, one moment they are at each others' throats the next they are elsewhere.

 

In the corner of her vision, Veronica sees the two appear and Masque jab at the sorcerer with her crook before the two disappear a second later. She is too busy with her own troubles to track her friend's fight. A mass of limbs surround her. So dense is the cluster of limbs that she could barely make out the sandstorm and numerous hands grab pull at her legs and clothing. They pull at the trinkets Veronica wears on her person and they threaten to tear free, especially the amulet artifact. They grab at the helmet free from her belt but she fights away from them with nothing but her own strength, pushing against the tide of unbodied flesh. She bursts out of the mass when she feels her ponytail pull taut, hands tugging her back into the waiting limbs.

 

Meanwhile, Masque and the sorcerer fly low through the ground, stumbling on the sand and rocks as much as teleporting through the air as they make their mad dash towards Ouroboros and the Golem. Sand billows from the impact they had made, crashing into the ground, but the golem is not sluggish and it whips the hand holding Ouroboros up into the air. The golem's fingers crush Ouroboros inside a hand harder than stone. It chafes the dhampir's skin, rough and serrated. Then the golem smashes his fist into the ground, sending more sand up around them. Ouroboros heard something crack but he is raised up once again.

 

Then smashed into the ground. Then again. And again. And again.

 

The golem is eerily silent as it does its work.

Link to comment

The Dhampir had barely a moment to strengthen his protections before the stone colossus was upon him and he was plummeting toward the ground with the constructs weight above him.  He had barely a moment to brace himself for the impact as they hit the ground.  Trying to roll free he let out a quiet curse as the monstrosity stony grip closed on him before he could escape and sent him flying up and then back to the hard packed sand with great fury once more.

 

With a surge of eldritch power he strengthened the mystical barriers protecting his flesh against the onslaught and though they buckled under the impact they did not give way and the Dhampir began to rise unharmed with a grimace clear on his sharp features eyes glowing a dangerous red as he rose to face the golem once more.

Link to comment
  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

Masque, Ouroboros

 

Wrapped up in their own fights as they are, the Masques and Ouroboros might catch a shadowed glimpse of Veronica ripping her hair from hands of the many limbed creature. Then she is free and off to a running start, her feet thudding on nothing but air and the sand that swirls around her. Up and around the mass of arms and feet and away from the both of you and your individual battles. Her figure quickly recedes into the sandstorm until she is nothing more than a hazy form amid the sand and magic, and then not even that.

 

Your opponents see what you do too. There is a lull between Masque and The Sorcerer's fight and they hover mid-air in place for a moment. Masque could feel a trickle of blood dribble into her lips, salt and heat mixing from the continual hammering her mind had received. She looks up to see The Sorcerer looming over her but instead of delivering the coup-de-grace it turns towards the silhouettes of the many limbs hanging in the air and gestures. They disappear with nary a flash of light in front of Masque's eyes, then The Sorcerer turns its eyeless face back to her...

 

Unnoticed by anyone, claws penetrate the edges of the sandstorm at numerous points around the Claremont students, slowly opening tears into this dimension.

 

***

 

Veronica

 

You run, as fast as your legs can take you, deeper and deeper into the sandstorm until the sounds of battle is drowned out by whirling winds and sand brushing against your skin. Her friends disappear until she can perceive almost nothing save the faint light of the sun, the core itself branded into her mind's eye through her magical senses. It burns bright and acts as an anchor in her race against her enemies for she need only run towards it and nowhere else.

 

Closer and closer she gets and even the sand parts as she nears so that she may look at it with her physical sight. The helmet on her belt begins to tug harder, towards the sun, until you suspect that if you were to release it then it would fly straight towards the core.

 

A sun in miniature, barely larger than her head. It hangs in the middle of the storm, untouched and burning an electric blue. This close and the heat would have been all but unbearable, scorching clothes and skin until the flames took you, but your spell wards off this extreme. Instead, you feel warm, like taking a jaunty trek into the desert.

 

You are about a dozen meters or so from reaching your destination when limbs, arms and legs and reaching hands, appear between you and the miniature sun. They form a wall, looming over you and surrounding the sun in a half circle. It seems the creature seeks to bar entry and when you look behind you see the shifting sand, moving towards your position with an uncanny intelligence.

 

Hearing nothing but the sand whistling in your ears you find yourself between two inhuman beings, intent on you and you alone.

 

It seems you were followed.

Edited by Zeitgeist Blue
Link to comment

Masque ran a hand against her face, for all the good it did her - with her mask in the way it communicated the idea, at least, even if it did nothing to help the trickle of blood. "Oops!" she announced, cheerful but admonishing, wagging a finger at the sorcerer. "Rookie mistake, you took your eyes off the magician!"

 

Another Masque fell from the sky, dropping directly between the two combatants, head-first with her cape spread and a crude smiling face drawn over her mask. "Misdirection!" she announced.

 

The first one was missing once her duplicate had passed, but only for as long as it took to drive her staff into the sorcerer's ribs.

Link to comment
  • 2 weeks later...

Entombed in the mechanical menaces steely grip Ouroboros struggled in vain against the hulking golems grasp.  Calling upon the power of his dhampir blood his limbs surged with unholy might.  Even still he struggled to finally free himself and sprint toward Veronica hoping to leave the creature behind.  However there clearly was not time.

 

Drawing himself up he wove a spell slicing through the strange energies of this place and calling forth a bit of hte endless void that was his birthright.  As the final syllables fell from his lips a the air in front of Veronica shimmered and twisted as the portal opened a yawning rift into a starry expanse just beyond the limbs another portal sliced into this realm and the two joined through the void to give the young explorer access to the sun in but a few steps.

Link to comment

Veronica

 

Veronica's plan to make a break for the miniature sun at the center of the magical suit of armor had been at least partially successful, as Ouroboros and Masque kept at least two of their opponents occupied.  But that still left to others that continued to attempt to stop her and prevent her from delivering the helmet.  Only by strength of will was the teenage Danger able to pull herself free from the limbs and continue onward.  But then the limbs and mist began to close in around her once more, seeming about to entrap her and bring this all to an end.

 

But then a shimmering portal opened in the air in front of her, the magic easily recognizable as that of her older classmate.  A small smile coming to her face as Ouroboros provided her with a short cut away from the limbs and mist, Veronica continued sprinting forward, leaping through the portal as she drew close.

 

Emerging from the other end near the miniature sun, Veronica pulled the helmet free and extended outward as she came down toward the ground, releasing it once she was close enough to be sure that draw of the sun would pull the helmet toward it and complete their objective.  The teenager then tucked into a roll and came back up on her feet nearby as she watched the helmet being drawn into the miniature sun.

Link to comment

GM

 

Masque

Masque's strike to the Sorcerer does more than merely leave bruised ribs. It goes through all the way and out the other side of the Sorcerer's torso. Clawed hands grip the staff where it meets torso as sand dribbles down from the hole, reflexively pulling it free, and though the Sorcerer is not as hurt from being impaled as it should have been Masque could feel its anger flare in her head. It is not entirely sapient but there is intelligence in its existence, winds buffeting her thoughts, making her see things. A singular purpose inside this limited space within space within Nicole's armor. A distrust of anything foreign, a desire to destroy and protect.

 

Now it wants to destroy you and this malice wraps itself in your mind. In fits and starts, it pulls your staff from its torso. Eyes burn madly in a bid to strike you down once and for all.

 

Then everything is white. Blinding and all-consuming.

 

Ouroboros and Veronica

The Golem's footfalls as it thunders towards the center are heard even from where you are so near the sun. Sand shifts in the wind, needling into exposed skin and finding initial purchase inside orifices. Beyond that veil of sand and even with the sun's light burning into your eyelids, you see an indistinct mass of shapes. Humanoid all and stalking forward as if they were mindless, drawn to the light like moths.

 

Yet none of those matter as Veronica lets go of the Bellios' helmet. The processor, the soul and crown and eye of a living being. Not exactly human, but something that still breathes in a manner of speaking. It floats, almost leisurely, but soon enough it touches the sun and the flames lick over the metal, consuming it whole until nothing is left. And at first you wait, turning towards the multitude of adversaries before you. Nothing has changed. The sounds of inhuman things beyond your vision, the sweltering heat even with Veronica's protective spell.

 

There is a crackle, electric-like, and so foreign in this environment that it catches your ear immediately. Then another, and another. The sun's surface crackles completely and it expands, jumping into the ground then towards you, filling the space in between. Then they jump towards the sandstorm shifting around you, touching individual grains. To the many-limbed creature and the Golem that had just arrived. Electricity then a whiteness fills your vision. Yet it seems oddly peaceful, as if you were going to sleep.

 

All

It has been... decades since the last outsider has stepped through the glass of this world. You all hear this resound in your mind, even if you are not able to see anything. Reaching around you, you feel the others. Sweat and bruises and torn clothing. Alive and well all things considered for teenagers of your ilk.

 

Actors seeking death and actors seeking only to heal. It is not providence that saw you accomplish beyond your adversaries but through guile, magic, and your minds. And for that I owe a debt that neither heaven nor hell may grasp for righting my home. Mirrors crack. They distort and fracture, but all is now returned as it should.

 

There is a long pause, long enough for you to wonder if that is all there is to it. But the voice fills your mind again.

 

Now go. Return, Outsiders! Back from whence you came!

 

It echoes, smaller and smaller until your mind is your own entirely. You are blind in whiteness but you know you are not alone.

Edited by Zeitgeist Blue
Link to comment

Masque didn't feel dead. She'd only felt what it was like to die once or twice, and neither of those had been crazy sand mage guardians, but this didn't feel like dying. And it didn't feel like fighting. And the voice didn't sound like failure. Which meant...!

 

"Yeah!" she shouted into the blinding light, punching up with an arm she couldn't see. "Go Veronica! Go all of us! Mission complete"! Two sets of pleasant laughter faded into one, her double dissolving back into the magic from whence she'd come. The remaining Masque - the one and only - laughed for only a few seconds more before she trailed off, looking around. "....does, um. Does anyone know where the exit is?"

Link to comment

Salvo

 

Dr. Charles Claremont Building, Claremont Academy

Bayview, Freedom City, New Jersey

Tuesday, November 6, 2018

 

3:45:13 AM

 

"It's right here, Liz. Come on, follow my voice." You all hear it, distant as if coming from the other end of a long tunnel. It is Nicole, you realize, and her voice gets louder and louder until she seems to be near you.

 

"Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can."

 

You come to in the infirmary, lights dim but for a lamp on a table by the corner of the room. A laptop sits open with its screen emitting its own faint light. It is dark outside and quiet, no sounds of student activity coming from the grounds or the halls past the confines of the infirmary.

 

The three of you are laid out across cots and Nicole is beside Liz. The infirmary is empty but for the four of you, not even the nurse, Aretha Joy, to witness you coming back. When you move, you feel the aches and bruises that you had come upon in your trek. Skin sunburnt and your limbs tired from fighting, but you are alive and well at least.

 

"You came through."

 

Nicole removes the hand and flashlight she had placed over Liz's eye, satisfied that the illusionist is alright. She blinks heavily before she leans back in her wheelchair, her shoulders almost sagging with relief. For a few seconds she stays like that, just staring at the three of you, then she sneezes into her sleeve and that seems to jolt her into action.

 

She moved to Veronica and wraps her hands around her armor's helmet, still gripped between Veronica's hands. It sparks, crackling against skin, but she pushes past it and pries it away. Only then does Nicole back out, cradling the helmet as if it were her baby to be cooed to sleep..

 

"I told them you'd come through, you know. Summers is pissed." Her voice is low, quivering, as she addresses you. "But everything's alright, it's alright. You're awake and you aren't stuck."

 

"And Bellios is back to his usual Self." She points at the laptop, where data streams cross the screen in the dozens. There's a smile on her face. She moves closer, taking a deep breathe, and she nods as if coming to a decision.

 

"But I'm going to call Nurse Joy. She needs to know everyone's awake and fine." Her hand finds her phone and she holds it but before she begins the call she looks up and her eyes roam across the three of you in your beds. "Thank you, by the way."

 

Then she hits call.

Edited by Zeitgeist Blue
Link to comment

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

×
×
  • Create New...