Comments | scorched_logs: [OPEN] War Log II: Anatole

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[OPEN] War Log II: Anatole

Oct 23, 2011 18:15

Who: Anyone who remained in the city
When: 23 - 27ish
Where: Anatole
Format: ANYTHING YOU PREFER. Action to start out.
What: The elves and the winged monsters have come to Anatole. Blood in the streets! Blood in the streets!
Warnings: Violence, Part II
Notes: Tag into the location threads, or make your own if that suits you better! Feel free to ( Read more... )

olivier mira armstrong, ulquiorra cifer, verity kindle, yachiru kusajishi, damon salvatore, jack vessalius, snake-eyes, caroline forbes, aximili-esgarrouth-isthill, scar, the trickster, lilly rush, xerxes break, lucian, dawn summers, asellus, cordelia chase, nill, angel

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...Dismas. scorchedevents October 23 2011, 22:43:54 UTC

[Want a challenge? Here it is: they swarm down the streets to the undercity - red elves with their blades and their lizards alike. If you follow, you can feel your strength draining away.]

photosbythebed October 25 2011, 00:10:32 UTC

[It's not as if she's got anything to lose by descending the steps into the Undercity. No powers made manifest, no touch of Mist that she can discern has ever altered her - what's altered her has been marked with loss and it's keen and sharp and just fucked up is what it is. She's lost things.

More than things: people.

No time to think about that or she'll lose more, and she's not doing that. It's not an option.

She's been up and down these stairs for what feels like an indeterminate amount of time. Six times? Twenty? But she's escaped notice of the Red Elves every time but one - and that time her shot had been quick and clean and on the mark.

Down again she comes this time - purposeful and silent and reassuring as she finds the boy just where his brother had said he'd be. Another one she won't fail as she leads him around and back and up and through - winged bastards be damned because oh yeah, there's this other gun - and tonight luck is on her side ( ... )

sombras_blancas October 25 2011, 05:47:48 UTC

[Thus far, Ulquiorra has not partaken in any of the fighting unless the elves and their strange mounts had the misfortune of coming across him. That was above ground, in Anatole proper. So what brings him down to the darkness of Dismas ( ... )

closed to nill supercilious October 25 2011, 02:13:23 UTC

[ Dismas has always made Arthur inexplicably uneasy, and in all his months in Anatole he can count the times he's been down here on one hand. ]

[ It's easy to forget he is Mist-augmented, so slowly did his strength creep upon him. But in Dismas his armour is suddenly heavy again, the strain of swinging his sword greater than he's used to. If he survives this he's going to start training down here: Arthur has relied too long on magic. ]

[ But he cannot go anywhere else. Not when he sent people down to Dismas to safety, only now to see creatures swarming down the steps. He can organize and order all he likes, but Arthur cannot keep himself from the front lines. Keep himself from doing something incredibly stupid. Because those tall figures with their bloody eyes, he fears them, and so he must face them, because he fears his own cowardice more. ]

[ Now in the tight underground tunnels, he fights, tasting blood from where he's bit through his lip. Fights for hours, up the steps and down, giving ground and taking it back, his strength ( ... )

closed to nill 1/2 divinelyhushed October 25 2011, 03:38:21 UTC

[ She had been down here once - and had planned never to return again; it was dangerous, here - and while the circumstances of her return were understandable, it was also the circumstances of her return that made this visit thousands of times worse than the first. It was horrible - worse than the encounters in the upper streets before she had come down here with some of the few others seeking safety. ]

[ They had been down there for hours, now, and all those who had barricaded themselves in houses and shops - back alleys and closets, counting on shadows and the sound of a war to hide their own whimpering sobs - had much of nothing to do but cower. They were women and children as far as she had counted, and the few men she did see had mostly been injured or old. They were not fighters ( all the fighters had gone to the island. almost all of them at least. ). There were not enough fighters. ]

[ Not enough fighters and this fight had been going on for hours.[ She could not say where Arthur was. That realization had hit her some 70 ( ... )

closed to nill divinelyhushed October 25 2011, 03:48:42 UTC

[ But redoubled when he staggered and fell as well. ]

[ Her mouth opened, but not even a silent cry of shock and fear escaped her lips - only heavy pants and, within a few more moments (that honestly felt much longer) the little blond had reached his slumping figure. Unscathed, although her clothes were splattered with light bloodshed. Cast off. Arterial spray. Unimportant spray. ]

[ At his side, the blond knelt a well. ]

[ Her hands shook ever so slightly and - and she didn't know what to do with them. What to help. He didn't seem just tired. Something was much more wrong than that and she was no doctor - she could not even sew dresses, let alone wounds. And with all this chaos - there were both going to get hurt sooner or later. ]

[ Those shaking hands pounded, palm open, upon the heavy, solid folds of protective armor, fingers curling around shoulders and shaking slightly - wake up - get up! - before shifting to the hilt of that sword (buried almost obscenely deep into the elf's neck) and began to pull. Although whether ( ... )

supercilious October 25 2011, 10:06:19 UTC

[ Nill's arms are small and scrawny, but her hands on his gory ones as she helps him tug the sword free are what help Arthur summon a last surge of strength. Together they draw the blade from the sucking wound, and Arthur uses it like a crutch, dragging himself to his feet. First one leg, then another. ]

[ She shouldn't be here. She should be anywhere but here. ]

[ At least Merlin, though he looks like a weakling, has his magic. Morgana and Gwen can wield a blade well enough. Yachiru is more than she looks. Even Verity can at the very least cry for help. But Nill - she's so vulnerable. Arthur's protective instincts kick in, and he grabs her arm, blue eyes wide, pupils pinpricks. There's no panic in them, just the last of his adrenaline. ]

The bloody hell are you doing here.

[ It's rhetorical: he isn't going to wait for her to try and answer, not when there are likely more enemies right around the corner. Arthur's chest is heaving like a bellows, he casts a last wild look at the steps of Dismas as though he's considering staying ( ... )

divinelyhushed October 26 2011, 06:36:44 UTC

[ Had she had time, the blond might have flashed him a look that spoke in a volume much louder than words - that might have actually screamed to him I'm helping you! ]

[ But that look was diverted to the crowd of toiling, bleeding, sweating, crying men and women and elves, as if to assure they had not attracted any unwanted attention. But it seemed that, for the moment, they were in the clear, and Nill allowed her hands to release his sword (her hands smeared with blood and grime and - ugh, it worsened the mood, along with no having time to wipe it off on her skirts) and instead fasten around an upper arm. ]

[ Nill tugged, pulling with all the might in her spindly girl arms. She stood, even, and threw most of her weight into try to pull him up -]

[ Stand up please please please stand up we need to get away now Arthur! ]

[- and get him to walk; move; go. Come on, they had to go and he was heavy, drugged and tired but not a quitter. He'd try and she was sure they could get at least a block away before having to slip into one of the ( ... )

supercilious October 29 2011, 15:42:42 UTC

[ Nill's desperate attempts work to get Arthur moving, though his mind is several steps ahead of his feet's capability. He stumbles, grateful for the way she's worked herself under his arm, and his armour must be digging into her delicate skin in those moments where he has to lean heavily on her. ]

[ These get more and more frequent as they progress together into the lee of the building, a relief from the immediate battle. ]

[ The Clinic. He has to get to the Clinic. Lupin and Tonks and Gwen and- no, not Shirley. Shirley's gone. Arthur shakes his head, and then again, like a horse flicking off flies. He has to get to the Clinic. ]

Dart. Poisoned. Not deadly, but I'll probably pass out soon.

[ His tongue is already thick with it, and he reaches, grips the nape of Nill's neck hard enough to bruise, tries to impart to her just how important his next words are. ]

Don't let them get me.

[ He means it, and there's desperation in his voice. He'd rather take his own life than relive that experience. They lumber onwards together, a ( ... )

divinelyhushed October 30 2011, 07:03:15 UTC

[ Pass out? She did not like the sound of that - not with the difficulty she was already having with helping to hold him up. And what if he fell? It would take forever to haul up deadweight, and in the time it took to get the two of them back to their feat, someone could easily be upon them ( ... )

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