[OPEN]

[soul_mods]

Characters: OPEN
Location: Witch Factory
Rating: R
Time: October 2019, at dawn.
Description: It’s time for war. This is the log set in the TYL timeline. Everything else following this will resume in the present timeline in November 15.

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WEST | CLOSED

[suchselfishness]

Being sneaky was much too easy, sometimes; with the battle raging, it had been relatively easy for Rhode to duck into quieter hallways after dispatching several enemies who stood between her and her escape from the main fray. There was something to be said for the familiar halls, and as she carefully crept around a corner, she realized she'd seen this quiet corridor before.

Rhode smiled as a chill crept over the scars on her back and neck, an odd little thrill coiling in her stomach. Perhaps she'd get to see her old friend in this battle; give him a few scars to match what he'd done to her. He would likely be in the midst of a battle with the rest of the invaders by now, however. Pity that he'd be killed before she could get a chance to play.

[neverbeenworse]

The scent of blood (Or the memory of the scent? Some psychosomatic reaction to his restlessness?) had been teasing his senses and pushing at his self control for some time when the alarms had gone off. It was an attack, a full on battle, something that he had been itching for for far too long.

Calloused fingers ghosted over his eye patch -- the thing was a memento a certain someone had left for him, and Enma was eager to see if he could return the favor today.

After all, it had been such a long, long time since he had seen his good friend Rhode.

He didn't waste time waiting for his weapon -- Spitfire, after all, was more than capable of taking care of himself, and Enma wasn't about to miss a moment's worth of the excitement. Black smoke trailed from his fingertips, ghosted its way up his fingers, up his arm, twisting and solidifying into metallic claws as he suddenly caught the sound of footsteps in the corridor. What perfect timing.

"Scary inside here, isn't it?" he asked slowly, moving carefully towards the sound.

[suchselfishness]

Rhode paused for a moment, tilting her head to one side to try and place the voice. It was difficult, with the echo, and even if it was familiar, there was a chance she had simply heard it in passing during her time with the Witches.

But there was that chance that it was someone she knew. Exciting either way, really, because a kill was a kill.

"Not very." Her voice was rather light for the situation, boots clicking on the floor as she took two decisive steps forward. "I think 'nostalgic' would be much more fitting."

[neverbeenworse]

Nostalgic, was it? Enma felt his excitement rising, eager anticipation causing adrenaline to slowly begin dripping into his bloodstream. He quickened his pace, rounded the corner, then came to a full, sudden stop when he was greeted by a familiar face. Luck was, as usual, on his side.

He lowered his gaze for a moment, though he had weaned himself from the habit of contemplating his shoelaces or counting cracks in the flooring a long time ago. Instead, he was eying his claws, fondly remembering how good it had felt to tear into her that first time.

"Enjoying the memories, then?"

[North Wing | CLOSED]

[blue_darkslayer]

The fighting had already been waxing steadily for the past few minutes when Vergil had slowly hacked his way towards the north wing of the factory. Initially he had settled for the middle, allowing enemies to come to him and proceeding to methodically cut through them one by one, but he had grown impatient. His climactic duel with Mifune had piqued his bloodlust rather than sate it, and he knew there were likely to be others amongst the enemy forces that he was fated to be reunited with. The north had been the original point of entry, so the battle was bound to be at its thickest here

[North Wing | CLOSED]

[getyourgunson]

The time had come

[North Wing | CLOSED]

[redpeacock]

The probability of being exposed to the Madness Wavelength didn't faze Genesis one bit. His time out in the desert had already toughened up his senses. And he had come to terms with all the guilt and inner demons that have haunted him endlessly since that day the Goddess decided to let him live. Now, charging past the crowd with Date, he blazed-- it was a resonation he thought he would have never felt since the day Vergil turned over to the Witches' side. It surprised him, seeing how easily they picked up the resonation once more, even after years of not working together as Meister and Weapon.

It wouldn't surprise him the least if they truly held enough power to stop this man who was once their comrade-- Genesis' own Meister. It was perhaps the least they could do for him-- have him fall under their hand rather than under the hands of others.

We've waited a long time for this party, Genesis replied, a little hint of nostalgic amusement as he borrowed that term Date was so fond of.

I'm more than ready to get it started.The weapon

[North Wing | CLOSED]

[blue_darkslayer]

Vergil simply stood and admired the sight for a moment, his posture seemingly relaxed. It had been quite some time since he had encountered his old... friend... Date Masamune. It struck him as an odd relief to see that the samurai evidently meant business, but this was nothing beside his appreciation for seeing Genesis in his hands. He had to snort quietly to himself with amusement. The poetry to the situation certainly did not escape him, and there was no doubt in his mind that, poetic indeed, it had probably been the Weapon's idea. He'd have to properly express his gratitude in the battle to come.

There was no urgency to his stride as he proceeded forwards - he had every intention of enjoying this for as long as it lasted, after all - and a blue aura began to wreathe his form. Fortunately he had some measure of what to expect from these two in terms of ability, though he wasn't so certain that they had witnessed some of his own new techniques since he had undergone modification and become a Minor Kishin. Vergil could practically

[South Wing] [Closed] [Yuuri | Kanda | | Mifune | Saralegui]

[a_r0yal_flush]

Power seemed to radiate around his weapon form while the Maou remained held within Kanda's grasp. The battle had been far more brutal than the Maou had experienced. He would not falter for there were those here that needed to be punished for the injustice and pain they'd caused.

While his gentle side slept within, he would make certain not to fail in their task. Far too many lives were at stake, and he would do everything within his power to return the others and Yuuri back to their proper timeline. He may not have had use of the powers locked away within him, but what powers remained in this form would be enough for him to protect the others.

Justice would return to this Earth.

[kandescence]

It had been months since Kanda had been in a battle of this scale, but still he was no stranger to it. There was a rhythm and a pattern to the cacophony and chaos. It moved faster than rational thought, a speed outside of sensibility in a space where all focus had confined itself to the reach of his sword

[ninetyninesouls]

It was a pleasure to fight in something of this scale, something they had tried to keep him from but unsuccessfully. Mifune was a swordsman: he was born in the battlefield and would die in the battlefield, not withering away in the dark. The thrill of the carnage surrounding them was muted not by urgency but by the vicious efficiency that was necessary in his style

[lavenderglasses]

Others were actually fighting in that battle, but Saralegui's primary concern was simply escaping. It seemed that word of what he had done hadn't yet gotten around to the average soldier, or he wouldn't have had nearly so easy a time of it. Then again, it wasn't likely that Crane would have been able to call for help immediately, and in the middle of a war no one paid much attention when one's hands were bloodied.

Still, he wasn't going to just wait around until there was a bounty on his head among the witches, and there wouldn't be such an opportunity to escape as now, with the chaos of battle distracting everyone. Heading to the outer edges of the compound where he could just run and not look back, most just let him be as he darted between various private fights -- the kishin eggs knew not to attack him, still supposedly on their side, and most others were too busy with more immediate dangers to go after someone who wasn't obviously trying to kill them.