[OPEN] War Log II: Anatole

[scorchedevents]

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

Comments

[charmprince]

Her boots have long since become hardly worth mentioning, the leather slashed and rent by shards of glass. I should have gotten better-soled ones, Asellus thinks, and a bubble of almost hysterical laughter follows, though she swallows it as quickly as she can and fills another bucket of water from the cistern with one hand, Asura clutched tight in the other, just in case.

There weren't many people in the area-- she'd already shouted at most of them to get out, though there were a handful-- people who generally tended the plants here-- who had hung around and were doing the same as she was, trying desperately to either fight off the enemy or fight off the fire. She won't stop them, though she does her best to draw the enemy from them when she can. She's sure there are many more enemies elsewhere in the city, but she's also aware that under the heat and ash of the fires, there is the chill of autumn. If left to run amok, the fire will destroy their food sources.

And the winter wasn't going to slow down for anyone.

Without food, they were doomed as surely as if they had been killed outright. And so she was here, arms blistering from the heat of the fires when she had to lean in to hit the base of them with water, fawn-colored boots turning indigo with blood, streaked and ashen and dirty as she fought like a wildcat to keep this place under their control.

The added benefit of the location, she finds, is that the smoke isn't helping anyone's visibility, but she knows the layout of this place very well. The enemy doesn't have that advantage, after all. Sneaking up on people is not hard when all there is to hear is the roar of fire and the choking of breath on smoke.

Of course, that's true of her, too, and it's a ink-colored shadow in the smoke that has the bucket clatter to the ground, splashing her legs with water and turning the dirt to mud. She hardly has the time to whip Asura up, knocking a weapon out of the air, and leaps into the shadow with a vengeance.

She still hasn't quite forgiven them for the last invasion, and while Asellus hates to give into the more... vicious aspects of her personality, she finds that there's little time do do else-wise, and the anger makes her movements quicker, sharper, and adds power to her thrusts. Defense isn't her battle-forte, but the best defense, she remembers Ildon droning on, is a good offense. And so she goes on, Asura whistling through the air and ash stinging her eyes.

[girl_unlocking]

[She'd come down of the rooftops for this sweep - followed the cries and the shouting. Followed the bright and the ash and the heat.

It's hard to tell which is which in the haze of smoke, and she coughs into her sleeve, presses it to her mouth and nose as she moves forward, stepping over broken things.

(Here a dead thing there a dead thing oh god what am I doing?

The scythe in her other hand is crusted red with disuse, not blood, but she's resolved to use it if she has to.

Closer, closer and the familiar flash of green hair.]

H-hey?! Do you need---

[What she doesn't need is a hand on her shoulder, but that's what she's got - and it spins her, catches her off guard. As she turns, she begins to lose her footing, skidding on glass and blood and going down hard.]

---help!

[charmprince]

[She can no more ignore that cry out than she can stop herself mid-turn to find out the source, and with a kick, she shoves the red elf that had been her target into the fire itself. The stink of burning flesh and a shriek go utterly ignored as she stumbles through the smoke, sweat cutting lines into the ash crusted on her skin. It's not hard to find Dawn, since she lacks the ink-black hair of the elves and isn't a beastling; the glass on the ground has Asellus concerned, though, and she offers a hand up while scanning for any major injury.]

Are you alright? [Her posture is protective even as she's offering a hand, Asura held like a dagger rather than a sword. Warding off the enemy is easier like that than having to strike out.] It's not exactly safe here; you lost? [Is that weapon covered in rust?]