Amelia's body is fighting whatever toxin they gave her, but reality still hasn't quite stabilized. She's had that sinking pre-seizure feeling for a while now, but nothing actually comes. She wishes it would; maybe she'd get lucky and her brain would hemmorhage.
She senses the same thing Phillip does. She won't die by his hands, or her brother's. He is gone. This won't happen this way. The idiots bound her near this chair, eh? And they all want what's in it? With the strength she has and a speed she didn't think she was capable of in this state, she's got Corrine up in front of her. Shards of crawler leg are sharp. "EVERYBODY back down!"
Amelia's eyes are so focused now on the groups in front of her, she hasn't even noticed the slight shimmering beneath her.
She hears, however, singing.
"Her boyfriend's back, and you're gonna be in trouble..."
With one motion, Sand has Amelia up and over in a judo throw...that sends her flying across the cavernous room, landing hard into a concrete post on the far side.
He then stands, and glares at the assembled. "Her name...is Corrine."
Who, by the way, is now in the center of the circle of heroes.
It was a unique thing for him - taking pains to be as bloody obvious as possible to help hide Sand's presence. He brought himself and whoever else wanted frontline duty in fast and hard, slipping their leader in well cloaked.
The others can follow up.
The Lantern phases in, glowing bright and radiating power - they're mages, big displays usually mean nastiness. Except, this being Travis, he's just trying to draw fire while the others get in position and select where they feel their talents help the most while he takes the opening salvos for them.
As Sand begins hoisting Amelia, Caleb has already appeared behind Corrine, catching her and extending his protective wards around her at the same time.
They got to Corrine before it was too late. It’s a step in the right direction, and he breathes just a litle easier. He has her, and any threat to her will have to get past him.
He's more than willing to go through the half-breed; he's been waiting for that chance for a very long time. "The demon. Heard so much about you."
A trail of black releases from his hand, and he cups it in a fist. Something pulls down into Caleb's very essence, and simultaneous with Phillip's motion, Caleb goes flying to the nearest wall.
Caleb doesn’t hit the wall that hard. He was too disoriented to feel that coming, but now he has his bearings.
Caleb recognizes the school of magic, though. It’s a cousin of Necromancy, aimed more at influencing demons than the deal. “Pitiful throw,” he says, teleporting to behind the man and willing him to combustion. “It’s a touch easier when the target isn’t a cambion, Einstein.”
He hustles towards Corrine, determined to get her out of harm’s way.
Phillip laughs, shaking himself down and the fire extinguishing uselessly from his frame. "Nearly a decade in Hell, boy... fire has no will against me."
A wall of black and feel of concrete appears directly in front of Caleb, the wall pushing back upon impacting and throwing him off his feet. Meanwhile, Corrine's frame is telekinetically pulled back some feet away from Caleb and towards Phillip. "So we've both learned something, haven't we?"
He kips up, and … nods? “Touché. For instance…” He holds out his hand, and the wall dissipates, re-appearing as a ball of energy in Caleb’s palm. With a thought, it races towards Phillip.
“I’ve learned that you’re Phillip D’Aubigne. And here I am, without an axe.”
He catches the energy, sliding back with the impact. He watches its glow in his palm for a moment before spinning it back at the half-breed. The floor under Caleb disrupts when the energy makes impact, stone quaking and cracking apart. Corrine is still sliding closer to Phillip. "You must be capable of more than this. I heard you killed an Al Koyet. Bad information, maybe...?"
He’s about to dissipate the blast when he looses his footing. Fortunately, his wards stand up to the punishment. That couldn’t have been a serious shot - not given the amount of power Caleb is feeling in this man. He’s nearly up there with Corrine in terms of raw power. No, that was just a probe. Phillip’s testing him, feeling him out.
Caleb isn’t returning the favor. A malicious chuckle at the question: Caleb’s souvenir from that little adventure is tucked away in his pocket.
Splended idea, Phillip! It’s where I’m going to put you until we figure out what to do with you!
He concentrates, and in a few seconds time the burn will begin to be felt in Phillip’s chest. The Oxygen is suddenly refusing to approach his blood, and all the gasping in the world wont help.
“When you get back to Hell, ask Ellie. She was there.” The look on his face says he’ll follow through on this. It seems that Caleb has finally learned how to be disingenuous.
The desired effect is only shown because Phillip flinches back. His eyes don't leave Caleb.
Gravity is pressing his opponent in place, pressing down hard enough to squeeze him down to the floor. A game of chicken. Well, that needs incentive, now doesn't it? Black webs of power crawl over Caleb's frame, lashing hot and feeling like burns everywhere they creep.
His attention is divided, as he focuses on both his own safety and depriving Phillip of oxygen, splitting all of his will between those two tasks. The task is Herculean, but Caleb is determined to hold out as long as he can.
Brain damage doesn’t occur for five minutes. He should loose consciousness before then. Caleb is hoping to hold out long enough to just play the clock.
The pressure is coming down hard enough to creak bones. Phillip isn't wasting his time uselessly gulping for air, instead focusing on his task and ignoring the oxygen loss as irrelevant for at least another fifty five seconds.
The demon's attention can only be placed on so many things. In a quick swipe, Corrine is back in reach of Phillip. The half-breed should feel the weight squeezing his spine. Another few seconds and ribs will snap.
As the seconds pass, more and more of his concentration is required to reinforce his wards. Before too long, he isn’t even able to maintain his attack on Philip.
He lost that bluff, and if he doesn’t shift gears quickly, then it’s over.
He stops trying to protect himself from the magic, and switches to absorbing the magic before it does him harm. Earlier that day Amelia had given him a splendid idea, and he intends to share said revelation with Phillip: He pours the magic into a continuing 180 decibel assault on Phillip’s inner ears, disrupting balance and, after a spell, thought cohesion.
The sound shatters all coherent thought instantly. Phillip recoils back, bringing hands to ears. The pain could make his eyes roll into the back of his head and he hits his knees.
One hand is spared to touch Corrine's arm and he disrupts and displaces the attack. Corrine's first sign of consciousness is her screaming as Phillip recovers himself. "NOW we're fighting, boy! Everything on the table, everything to lose, how many gambles are you willing to make?"
She senses the same thing Phillip does. She won't die by his hands, or her brother's. He is gone. This won't happen this way. The idiots bound her near this chair, eh? And they all want what's in it? With the strength she has and a speed she didn't think she was capable of in this state, she's got Corrine up in front of her. Shards of crawler leg are sharp. "EVERYBODY back down!"
Reply
"Please put Therese down, Amelia." It's a very patient tone even if his eyes don't look it.
Reply
She hears, however, singing.
"Her boyfriend's back, and you're gonna be in trouble..."
With one motion, Sand has Amelia up and over in a judo throw...that sends her flying across the cavernous room, landing hard into a concrete post on the far side.
He then stands, and glares at the assembled. "Her name...is Corrine."
Who, by the way, is now in the center of the circle of heroes.
Take them.
Reply
It was a unique thing for him - taking pains to be as bloody obvious as possible to help hide Sand's presence. He brought himself and whoever else wanted frontline duty in fast and hard, slipping their leader in well cloaked.
The others can follow up.
The Lantern phases in, glowing bright and radiating power - they're mages, big displays usually mean nastiness. Except, this being Travis, he's just trying to draw fire while the others get in position and select where they feel their talents help the most while he takes the opening salvos for them.
Reply
They got to Corrine before it was too late. It’s a step in the right direction, and he breathes just a litle easier. He has her, and any threat to her will have to get past him.
May God have mercy on it's soul.
Reply
He's more than willing to go through the half-breed; he's been waiting for that chance for a very long time. "The demon. Heard so much about you."
A trail of black releases from his hand, and he cups it in a fist. Something pulls down into Caleb's very essence, and simultaneous with Phillip's motion, Caleb goes flying to the nearest wall.
Reply
Caleb recognizes the school of magic, though. It’s a cousin of Necromancy, aimed more at influencing demons than the deal. “Pitiful throw,” he says, teleporting to behind the man and willing him to combustion. “It’s a touch easier when the target isn’t a cambion, Einstein.”
He hustles towards Corrine, determined to get her out of harm’s way.
Reply
A wall of black and feel of concrete appears directly in front of Caleb, the wall pushing back upon impacting and throwing him off his feet. Meanwhile, Corrine's frame is telekinetically pulled back some feet away from Caleb and towards Phillip. "So we've both learned something, haven't we?"
Reply
“I’ve learned that you’re Phillip D’Aubigne. And here I am, without an axe.”
Reply
He catches the energy, sliding back with the impact. He watches its glow in his palm for a moment before spinning it back at the half-breed. The floor under Caleb disrupts when the energy makes impact, stone quaking and cracking apart. Corrine is still sliding closer to Phillip. "You must be capable of more than this. I heard you killed an Al Koyet. Bad information, maybe...?"
Reply
Caleb isn’t returning the favor. A malicious chuckle at the question: Caleb’s souvenir from that little adventure is tucked away in his pocket.
Splended idea, Phillip! It’s where I’m going to put you until we figure out what to do with you!
He concentrates, and in a few seconds time the burn will begin to be felt in Phillip’s chest. The Oxygen is suddenly refusing to approach his blood, and all the gasping in the world wont help.
“When you get back to Hell, ask Ellie. She was there.” The look on his face says he’ll follow through on this. It seems that Caleb has finally learned how to be disingenuous.
Reply
Gravity is pressing his opponent in place, pressing down hard enough to squeeze him down to the floor. A game of chicken. Well, that needs incentive, now doesn't it? Black webs of power crawl over Caleb's frame, lashing hot and feeling like burns everywhere they creep.
Reply
Brain damage doesn’t occur for five minutes. He should loose consciousness before then. Caleb is hoping to hold out long enough to just play the clock.
Reply
The demon's attention can only be placed on so many things. In a quick swipe, Corrine is back in reach of Phillip. The half-breed should feel the weight squeezing his spine. Another few seconds and ribs will snap.
Reply
As the seconds pass, more and more of his concentration is required to reinforce his wards. Before too long, he isn’t even able to maintain his attack on Philip.
He lost that bluff, and if he doesn’t shift gears quickly, then it’s over.
He stops trying to protect himself from the magic, and switches to absorbing the magic before it does him harm. Earlier that day Amelia had given him a splendid idea, and he intends to share said revelation with Phillip: He pours the magic into a continuing 180 decibel assault on Phillip’s inner ears, disrupting balance and, after a spell, thought cohesion.
Reply
One hand is spared to touch Corrine's arm and he disrupts and displaces the attack. Corrine's first sign of consciousness is her screaming as Phillip recovers himself. "NOW we're fighting, boy! Everything on the table, everything to lose, how many gambles are you willing to make?"
Reply
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