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The Rites of Spring [IC]


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Jack's eyes ratcheted down to slits behind his royal blue mask at Equinox's shout. The swashbuckler tended to hold back just a little when fighting as part of a group, making sure not to get in anyone's way, but if their fur-wearing foes presented a legitimate threat they demanded a more decisive response. Springing forward with his weapon blazing with a fresh burst of flame as he snapped in forward, the fencer moved too quickly to follow, greatcoat flaring behind him as he wove his way through the melee with pinpoint focus. When he finally paused there was a beat of stillness before all three Jaguar Warriors toppled to the floor with strangled grunts, trailing wisps of smoke and the scent of burning hair.

While the elder sibling went of the offensive, his sister focused on defense. Spreading her arms wide, Jill sent a cascade of crackling, translucent blue energy upward where it solidified into a shimmering barrier between the airborne cultists and the assembled heroes. "It'll let your spells through," she called to the casters before tossing an infuriating smirk at the Eagle Warriors, "but it'll stop you lot cold."

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"Go to sleep, crazy-face. What are you guys talking about? I've personally never used cold magic myself."

"Well, some magics have sympathies, depending on the source you draw from," Nick said. "Ice is a bit hard to work this time of year, as in Equinox's case, she's likely drawing on winter chill, which is being driven out by the coming spring. And in my case, I'm drawing on the chill of the grave, which is driven out by the flourishing of new life."

He extended one hand towards the ceiling, and as he did, a carpet of ectoplasmic mass began to emerge from the floor. Grasping hands shot up like vines, seizing the two remaining flying warriors and dragging them to the ground. "Mind you, poltergeist activity seems to work fine," he said.

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"That, and I've only really got a good grasp of frost spells over the last month or so," said Equinox, continuing Nick's explanation. "There's also the fact that my magic is in some way tied to, well, the equinoxes, so around their timing... my magic tends to be a little bit less controllable. When I was a kid I used to blow out the lights every year."

She punctuated her lecture by casually flicking her wand at one of the Eagle Warriors as he went down, another freezing blast lancing from its tip towards the fallen warrior.

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"In either case, I'll have to look into getting some frost magic stuff myself." Warlock spun around, and pointed his metallic lightning rod at one of the remaining Eagle Warriors. A blinding bolt of white-hot lightning flew from the end. "I guess I'm still limited to what I can make. My spells wouldn't work if I didn't have these foci."

The lightning struck the mad warrior, and he collapsed like a ton of bricks. Warlock spun his wand in his hand like a gunslinger and put it back in his bag. "Although for now, these foci work just fine!" he said with a bright grin on his face. "So that just leaves the question of what the hell these guys were doing here in the first place. Anyone got any ideas?"

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"Oh, I've got one," Nick said, "but it's not pleasant. We've obviously got something rather Aztec going on here -- the gang members dressed up as ancient warriors, acting possessed, running from the sound of the gates of Mictlan. But then you take into account the fact that tonight's the Vernal Equinox... means whatever's going on is likely tied to Xipe Totec. Which would explain how this thing's setting off my death senses; Xipe Totec was one of those life-death-rebirth fertility deities. And... well, his rituals weren't exactly pleasant. Least you can expect from a man who wears a flayed skin as an overcoat." He looked up to the hall with its flickering light. "Needless to say, the rituals carried out in his name were some of the bloodiest. And most of them happened on the Vernal Equinox. Which means something nasty's about to start in there, if it hasn't --"

A scream rang out through the halls of the museum.

"-- already. Talk about timing."

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"That doesn't sound good," said Equinox, spinning round so she faced the source of the screaming. "I fear we may already be too late." She let her wings flap, carrying her up and away, soaring down the halls towards where the ritual was possibly taking place.

"Come on, hurry!" she shouted back to the superheroes behind her.

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"Ooh, Xipe Totec," Jack responded to Nick's explanation, shaking his head slowly as he mimicked the necromancer's pronunciation, "totally the worst Totec." The swashbuckler held his sizzling thermal blade to one side as he rubbed the stubble on his jawline with exaggerated thoughtfulness, his manner abruptly jovial again now that the immediate threat had passed. "I mean, on a scale of one to Totec..." He didn't get the chance to complete the thought as he fell into the instant sprint of a practiced athlete, chasing after the flying Equinox, Jill close behind him. "Right behind you, Bright Eyes!"

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Warlock realized he had been left behind! He quickly ran after them, making short leaps with his teleportation shoes, appearing with the rest of the heroes. "Screams aren't good. I hope we're not too late." His shoes tapped against the tile floor, long enough for him to take another step and appear a few feet in front of him.

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Nick rounded the corner into the hall of Mesoamerican Antiquities, just in time to see the spectacle. More men in the garb of Aztec warriors were clustered around what must have been a security guard, stripped to the waist and tied to a black stone plinth. Blood flowed down his right arm, skin hanging loose from the wound. A man was standing over him, his back to Nick, garbed in khakis, black loafers, and a trailing cape made of old, weather-beaten leather --

No, Nick thought. It's not leather. It's skin. Old, preserved human skin. At least it's not fresh... but it looks like they were working on that...

He swallowed his bile. "So!" All the warriors turned at once to face him. "Am I late for the festivities?"

The man in the grim cloak turned to face him. What Nick had taken for a cowl was almost -- almost -- a preserved face, worn as a mask split down the middle. Through it, he could see a middle-aged white man, somewhat gaunt. His face was slack, but his eyes spoke clearly -- they danced with joy, celebration, and a certain fanaticism.

"Greetings!" he said, his voice booming with mirth. "Greetings, young one! Are you here to hail the turning of the sun?"

Okay, good news -- they're not cultists, it's probably just a possession. Which leads to the bad news...

"Greetings, Xipe Totec," said Nick. "And about that..."

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Warlock followed behind Nick, coming to a stop right behind him. Sure enough, there were warriors waiting for them. He saw a man who appeared to be their leader, clad in a cape and a mask. Something wasn't quite right about it- it seemed too real. The realization of its material hit him, and his eyes popped open. "Christ, man!" Warlock said, staggering backwards. He struggled to hold his lunch inside him, and had to support himself against a wall. After a moment, he was able to grasp the reality of the situation and walked to Nick's side.

"We're gonna beat the crap out of you, you sick bastard."

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"Jill," Jack snapped brusquely, the syllable carrying the tone of an order despite its brevity.

Even as the younger sibling came to a skidding half toward the back of the group her arms were stretched forward. "Way ahead of you, hermano," she assured him as a translucent blue barrier stronger than steel shimmered into existence around the captive security guard, cutting Xipe Totec and his cultists off from the plinth.

With a curt nod of approval, her brother raised his arm to point his blazing rapier at the disturbingly clad leader of the group before them. "You heard the kid, Xipey," he drawled with misleading lethargy. "Shorty said knock you out."

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The man in the unfurled skin looked at the concealed plinth with something like dismay. "Why?" he asked with regret. "Do you know what day this is? This is the day of offerings. Tonatiuh rests on the divide, and shall shine bright in the coming days. Without this, it shall halt, and the world shall turn cold and fallow."

"That may have been true back then, Xipe Totec," Nick said. "But the world's changed. The sun moves because we move around it. If blood does power it, it doesn't need to be rendered up to you guys -- it does its job on its own."

"A new sun, then?" Xipe Totec looked at him with curiosity. "It has... been so long. After our cities fell, there was... darkness, for a long time. Then, I felt someone touch one of my offerings, still imbued with a measure of my essence." He stroked the gruesome coat with another man's fingers, almost lovingly. "Was it so long ago? He came to me as a devotee, I believe..."

"Yeah, well, why don't we let him talk about it? And while we're at it, why don't we get that man off the plinth and get you some skin grafts? They've done a lot of stuff with flesh since the old days..."

"Oh, I can't do that," Xipe Totec said. "If this is the time of the Sixth Sun, then all I have done, and all that has been done for me, has been for naught. My people have been abandoned, just as the people of the Suns before us. But whatever these people have become... I can turn them back. Tezcatlipoca and Tlaloc rained down destruction, but none knew how to heal. I could turn men back from birds, fish... and whatever they have become now."

Nick shook his head. "Man, you try to help a forgotten deity and they get all stubborn and murderous," he said to the others. "It's like seeing an Alzheimer's patient whip out a rocket launcher." The shadows lengthened around him. "If that's the angle, oh Night Drinker, then I guess I've got no choice but to take you out of the world of the Sixth Sun. This ain't your world anymore, and I don't think it's gonna be again."

The possessed man flourished his obsidian blade as his worshippers gathered around him. "Then so be it."

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The Warriors dragged their jagged clubs across the floor, descending upon the group. "So," Nick said almost casually, "these guys. More of the possessing devout?"

"Of my people, yes," said Xipe Totec. "My priesthood, no. But they know the importance of the rites."

"Wonder how dedicated they are." Nick opened his mouth and out came an unearthly sound. Unlike before, with the dread clicking of bones, there was the sound of a sharp knife finding purchase in flesh, followed by a piercing scream. Three of the gathered band turned white as a sheet and went running out of the hall. The ones who remained swung at Nick and Jill, but the aural assault had caught them off guard.

"Guess they're just afraid of what might happen if it doesn't go through," he said. "I hear getting flayed hurts."

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Warlock walks calmly forward, whipping his lightning wand from his black robes, and pointed it at Xipe like a handgun. "There are some words I could use the describe you. One of which is a complete monster. So, instead destroying you, I'll do the heroic thing and resist that urge!" His eyes narrowed as he focused a large amount of magic into the wand, and it began to spark. He pointed it at Xipe, and a roaring bolt of lightning flew from the tip, straight at his chest.

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The bolt tore through the dimly-lit hall, catching Xipe Totec's mount right in the chest. The man and the god alike danced like a puppet getting its strings cut, but soon rose again. "Monster?" he said, confused. "I am no beast, no creature of darkness. I am the cycle -- the feeding of the crops, the reaping of the harvest, the death that comes so that life may flourish." He brandished the obsidian blade, slicing quickly into his forearm. With a flick of his wrist, the blood fell in fat drops across the marble floor -- and where it touched down, plants erupted like green wildfire, their vines grasping at everything in sight.

"See? Where my blood falls, life flourishes. This is a sacrament, and a thing of beauty."

Nick tried to dodge the vines, but one caught him by the pant leg, rooting him firmly to the spot. "Y'know, Xipe," he said, "you've got a really weird sense of aesthetics..."

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Maintaining her barrier around the wounded security guard with a application of energy and will, Jill gave an outraged yelp as she nimbly avoided the reaching vines. "Hey! If you're gonna hijack a body, you could at least take better care of it, obsidian-for-brains!" the young woman called out, attracting the besieged god before he could capitalize on Nick's capture.

"And that outfit!" her brother interjected from Xipe Totec's opposite side, using the sudden foliage as verdant stepping stones to carry him up into the air before lunging at a downward angle with a flurry of unrelenting blows. "Where's a bucket of red paint when you need one, amirite?" he quipped, matching his verbal assault to his physical attack, keeping the immortal from focusing and bringing his full power to bear.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Xipe Totec reeled under the assault from the Espadas siblings. "Such mockery," he said, more distraught than angry. "Truly, this sun has blighted the earth. There was a time when men respected the gods -- "

"By winds be bound." The already-staggered deity was caught broadside by the gust of wind that pinned him to the floor, bringing him to eye-level with Equinox. The young witch had been caught in the green bonds that Xipe Totec had brought forth, but looked on him with scorn. "Tims have changed. The gods must have a reason to be respected. And carnage doesn't count."

"You speak of me as if I bring wanton slaughter," he said. "You should see the rivers spilled for Huitzilopochtli. He hungers and hungers, but it's for him that men fight and die. Whereas I --"

"Whereas you've been meaningless since man discovered crop rotation made harvests more fruitful without turning the epidermis into a bold fashion statement," Nick said. He was working at his bonds with barbarous talons wrought from shadows, but the vines proved thicker than he'd first estimated. "This isn't your world, Xipe. And I've seen gods do some pretty damn scary thing, but turning back the clock ain't one of them."

"You think you can speak to what gods can do?" Xipe Totec raised one hand, just barely, and his men stepped forward, their obsidian knifes gleaming in the night. One brought his knife against Equinox, but the witch swung away, getting off with a shallow cut. "I have seen fire rain and burn the earth to cinders. Hurricanes that have torn the world at its very firmament. Tezcatlipoca, clad in the flesh of a jaguar, devouring reality with a maw that stank of oblivion. You have spent less time on this earth than the trees of a forest, and you dare tell me of divinity? Who do you think you are?"

The other warriors brought their knifes down on Nick, but he twisted so that they caught the back of his jacket. The fragile knifes chipped against the leather, toughened by the waters of the river Styx. "Oh, just a smart-mouthed punk who's seen more than a few guys drunk on godlike power. By the way, Mictlantecuhtli's still pissed you never return his calls."

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  • 3 weeks later...

Warlock calmly walked up to the living god, and pointed his lightning wand in his face. A small spark leapt from the end, and crackled. "I don't know very much about your culture, Xipe Totec. I've heard some of you Aztec gods were pretty damn mean. Demanding blood for your power- I'm physically ill with the thought." He gritted his teeth in anger, and the wand flashed with white-hot lightning. "And I know some mean gods. One of them spit me back out. Now take a nap."

He gripped the wand until his knuckles turned white, and the tip started to spark and the room lit up with the wild magical energy. Warlock released the bolt, and it flew towards Xipe Totec. In the back of his mind, one thought went through Warlock's mind. I really hope this works.

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The bolt of lightning caught Xipe Totec right across the back, sending him convulsing on the floor. He pulled himself to his hands and knees. "I did not demand," said the god. "It was a necessity, do you understand? To keep the world spinning... the crops watered... I..." The smell of smoke looked the air, and Xipe Totec turned around slowly. The tail of his flayed skin was on fire; the flames slowly licked their way up the dreadful coat, consuming as they proceeded. "No," he said as he rolled across the ground, desperately trying to put the fire out. It was clear his influence was waning, however; across the exhibit, the vines that had erupted from the floor were withering into brown weeds. "No! This Sun must be fixed! This world must be made right! I can -- "

"Oh, I think you've done enough," Nick said as he cut through his bonds. He raced across the floor, his spectral talons outstretched. Racing to the possessed man, he aimed for the nape of the neck -- and sliced the burning skin, now weak as parchment, right off his back. "It's not your world anymore. And we don't need blood to keep it pumping."

The skin crumbled to pieces on the floor, blackening and curling up thanks to the flame. It may have been the smoke, but Nick could swear the corners of the split face were screaming as they were consumed. The sound of groaning drew him away from the grim site; the warriors were clutching their heads, dropping their studded clubs to the ground and trying to gain a grip on their surroundings. The man on the floor was lying prone, trying to gather some strength.

"Oh, God," he said. "That voice... God, I saw such things... what did he make me do?"

"It's okay," Nick said. "We stopped him before he could do anything. He's gone."

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