The Masquerade ball is over for many, as they flee into the night. The Princess has bitten off more than she can chew, whilst destruction and chaos rule.
Scene setting : The Masquerade Ball of Greed – Seven Sins series.
Co-written with Zetta, Temp, Moo and Nhal.
Zetta: Blitz held a firm stance after unleashing his telekinetic force manipulation for a wide arc of chaotic volume despite the otherwise groundbreaking focus required. However, such a blast brought conflict of it’s own, without a boost of life energy he was physically impaired. He could take flight to control his own movement, but his hands and feet were still useless for a moment, this was the reason the half-god would avoid using the technique in the midst of a fight. Despite it’s broad range, if it was still somehow dodged he would be left open to anything, for a bit of time. This weakness usually meant nothing to him since the time it would take for an actual response from an opponent after taking the blast was longer than a few seconds. However he had been attacked by an unknown enemy, who had timed their attack to appear immediately after his own. This person was quickly identified as the one who berated Blitz before, and so he was quickly riled up to be halted by this same prince. His only defense was an aura of aether energy only enough to guard his torso, it was condensed so that it would not explode on contact and instead maintain it’s form, the likes of which dissolved the effort of the shadowy hand from a crushing grapple, to a rough squeeze. While being so close to a form lacking a sturdy material presence, he carefully manipulated the small amount of space between them and impregnated the prince with aether. He could have simply pushed the energy inside with his control over it, but this way the ball could not be removed without a similar control over space.
Brought outside by this hold, he turned his head to the ground quickly approaching after he was dropped at the entrance of the castle. He left the aether used in his defensive measure for a counter-attack, focusing only on the created space now within his target. The second he was released, Blitz activated a violent explosion from within, simulating the way he used his white-hole technique. However something like this was much simpler as he was only controlling pre-existing energy. With his strength regained, he tucked his limbs in and recovered quickly from the fall, his bawled up form smashing into the ground making a loud thud. No apparent damage to the ground itself though. By the time he looked up, his attacker was descending onto the ground just a few feet from him, and had already opened his mouth instead of properly defending himself. This was typical of a person who did not often fight, like nobles. To almost no surprise he found the prince to be speaking nonsense, just like before, only now he had directly launched an offense against Blitz. Even worse, he had done so and taken him out of a probably interesting, as well as entertaining fight. A mistake he would learn from before their ensued fight ended. “Idiot.. What sense was there is getting in my way?”
His look narrowed into complete seriousness for a time before he breathed out and smirked, one fist punching into the open palm of another at a realization. There was present life-energy near him and right on his opponent. His knuckles cloaked his hand like an umbrella. Until now he had been in a succession of spars and had not been able to really cut loose, now with his signature having been so close to Blitz he could track him easily and avenge the fight opportunity he just lost. “… Make a habit of slandering Anarchy Division’s name…” His left-hand bawled into a fist and smacked against the open palm of his right-hand. The divine energy within Blitz’ aether had likely already caused an effect to the demon, not to be easily snuffed out by even an arch-demon’s prowess without even mentioning the other forces in tangent. Aside from the various elemental input, there was also the suddenly expanding space to cause concussive damage as well. “And you’ll regret it..”
He had gained an approval from Princess Gabriel to properly defend the entirety of their area, but before he could take any stance to do so the assailant who had asked him for support was already snatched elsewhere. While keeping his awareness up he noticed the clicking of shoes as someone approached him. Obviously the only one in the same position as the royal guard, his love came upon him without any sort of hostility – seeming to have calmed down from her annoyed and slightly detested response just a few moments ago. Lady Wrath had come to relieve him surprisingly, place her hand upon his outstretched arm, hot from the contact and sizzling to the bone she touched him still. Upon the offering of her malevolent use of wordplay she revealed her disdain for the situation at hand as well as his own misfortunes, and compliment him at the same time. Cecil was happy to have her praise of course and a deeper part of him relished in her saying he had misbehaved, beckoning to mention that she might do something later. She removed the weight on his hand, the royal guard taking deep breaths to endure the pain. “Thank you, my Lady..” He said, bowing gently in a crouched position.
His head turned to the others once he was assured she was acknowledged, thanked, and safe from harm. Now toward the other princess, in the literal exact opposite position, whoever her aides were they were absent while she had been prodding herself with the blade. She foolishly pressed herself against it, seemingly testing the knight who had apparently finished his killings and was now heading for the door. In the middle of her Kingdom, she just wanted him to go now, his head shook in reference to his own leader who had killed a man and all who stood for him because he dared her. That was just one reason why he loved her, and instead of charging into battle in another’s home, she casually retreated and watched the chaos ensue. This one.. She was no demon ruler, but a coward pulling the right strings. Her burning skin warned everyone around to get a move on.. Something, and then the woman bearing pain spoke again. Shouting out to all that the party was over, as if she still had authority. Disregarding that entirely he turned to his own Lady Wrath once more, this was an opportunity, while the other prince was occupied and no one else strong stood for the now burning woman. “I will only move on your order, princess.” He humbly spoke to her.
Nhal: “Stupidity it is then.” Belphegor spoke flatly, his demeanor seeming much sharper and lest tired than it had within the ballroom. Drifting to the side slowly he circled around Blitz, watching him closely as parts of his form began to blow away like mist in the wind. “Naturally you and your little gathering of imbeciles are not welcome to this plane, and sooner or later, whether it is of your own volition or not, you’ll be ejected… Violently if required…” Raising one hand in front of him the Prince of Sloth flexed his fingers in a whirling motion, a small cloud of smoke forming before he waved his hand and the blackness cleared, a long card with the king of hearts stamped across the front was suddenly held between his talons. “However given the current circumstances, I don’t have the time to deal with your childlike pigheadedness.”
While more portions of Belphegor began to wisp away portions of grayish-black skin which thinly coated bones began to make themselves visible. In addition his voice became extremely crisp and hollow with certain crackles that made some words hard to distinguish, as if the voice was emanating through an worn old speaker.
As more and more of the almost skeletal figure below began to emerge, the very presence of Belphegor began to fade away, replaced with a feeling that was far more malicious then the prince’s standard aura. The change in this feeling, while extremely great, would go unnoticed by the patrons inside the ballroom, blocked off by the coating of black crystals along the walls. The side of Belphegor’s face which was out of the sight of Blitz was the next to begin steaming and fading away as he shook his head, and while the face beneath could not be seen, long lines of what appeared to be blood soaked cloth hung below his ghostly visage in plain sight.
His voice continued to echo as he circled the demi-god, the card still held firmly between his fingers while his other hand sat lazily behind his back. After a full rotation he stopped in his tracks and began to dangle the playing card in front of him with two fingers, speaking almost as if he was lost in his own world.
Kirsikka had made a long, fine cut in the armor while she hummed to herself. Surely nobody would make it quite this easy; she felt too relaxed in a situation she expected to take three times the effort. All she had to worry about at this point was her hand cramping up from using the small blade. Seriously. The demon’s hand turned after a few inches, beginning to cut away once more. Her Lord never justified just what size he needed the sample to be, but a sample was just that. It would be the size of her hand if she could manage it.
Of course, at this time, the armor finally chose to give her an answer to her question earlier. While it had seemed empty previously, some sort of life was given to it now, as its hand swooped up rather quickly to take hold of her hair. Naturally, Kirsikka was surprised. She even hissed in pain as her hair was held rather roughly between its metallic fingers. However, the sight of the red-gold eyes illuminating behind the visor actually brought a grin to her face well after she’d settled again. “They weren’t insane,” she noted in a chipper tone. Kirsikka laughed lightly, frost moving about her. If it embedded itself on the suit, it wouldn’t be capable of moving its arm. The frost would continue forming and spreading along its torso to the other arm as well, as a precaution. If it had no effect, she would simply evaporate into frost herself and clear the podium, standing a few short feet away instead…even though the distance would be problematic in regards for her task at hand. She never once lifted her hand with the small blade from its torso, unless her frost didn’t take effect on the suit. Though the demon’s free hand did now lift to her ear, crushing the earring she’d been accessorized with by her Lord previously. Bits and pieces fell to her shoulder and where she stood. The shaking and crumbling of dust was of no concern yet. The guard stood dazed the entire time, as if nothing were happening. Kirsikka’s hypnotic spell would wear off soon, but it wouldn’t matter if those statues were about to take him apart for her.
Gabriel ignored the thanks she received from Cecil, instead watching the scene between the Templar and Lydia intently. Sickening as it was to watch flesh burn, Gabriel enjoyed the sight rather thoroughly. “Better than my imagination,” she commented to herself while she folded her arm behind her back. Her other still rested on the cane while she gave a bit of a sigh. She half hoped for the Templar to go back on his word, but he had been so determined to leave without further bloodshed that it was very doubtful he would actually attempt to drive his sword through the demon’s chest. And there was no doubt in Gabriel’s mind that Lydia was playing at that as well. The sneaky worm was smart, but weak. The princess smirked while she looked on, Lydia screaming for her guests to leave. Her ambition was lovely; everything nearly went according to whatever plan she’d cooked up. If there was one reason to enjoy the holy being’s presence, it was only that he had wrecked something precious to greed’s new princess.
The fact that Cecil stared at Lydia now, his expression showed the obvious distaste for her. Gabriel turned to face him completely as he did the same for her. His humble statement brought a smirk to her lips before she nodded her head once, her free hand moving to wrap itself over his shoulder. “Very well.” She turned her head to watch if the Templar would do as expected and walk out the door along with the now rushing crowds of demons. “We’ll move slowly. Allow the room to empty.”
Temp: William was glad to see that the Princess gathered her senses and agreed to back down, though she didn’t say so in such a way. It was clear that the woman was very angry towards him, and understandably so. She was bold to approach him the way she did, and even more bold to let Excalibur touch her flesh willingly. Seeing her flesh burn and bubble due to the literal poison that was his aura, as well as his holy items, was uncomfortable to say the least. This was something he was used too though, as he’d killed many things in his time, including demons. As soon as it was clear that no further aggression was being thrown his way, he sheathed Excalibur and placed Sanctus on his back, then retracted his wings. “Decision…Wise…” He then offered her a slight bow and turned, walking away and eventually through the crowd that separated in order to gain distance from him. He thought about apologizing to the Princess, but he knew that she wouldn’t think anything of it. With his mission accomplished, he left the Kingdom of Greed, now in need of a serious break.
Razorbackwriter: There was nothing more vile, than the stench of demon flesh burning from the holy aura of Excalibur. It would be enough to make the weakest stomach empty their dinner back up onto the floor. Lydia’s skin was literally melting -cooking. Her fine gown was clinging to her arms, like it was now somehow fused and it was a certainty that she would lose even more skin as she would try to move it at the ball’s end. The party was well and truly over for the Princess. Her fine ballroom was a shambles. A mess of blood, bodies and broken dreams. All of Lydia’s plans for the evening had been thwarted by this…this holy creature before her. She didn’t even understand what he was doing in Hell in the first place. He wasn’t invited that was for sure. There was a look of absolute hatred and revoltion towards William as he withdrew his sword from where he had it pointed. His wings slowly closing in behind him. He was backing down, or rather decided to spare her life. She was of course testing him to see if he was true to his word. A gamble you could say. She was the Demon of Ambition after all, and one that often acted if the opportunity to survive was possible. But there was a price to pay for this action, and that was the horrid scarring that was going to be a reminder of what this man had done.
“Hardly.” The word was laced with a sinister edge. You could see that she was practically livid. Her body trembling, not from pain but from rage. Lydia’s teeth were gritted as she held back on screaming foul obscentites at the Templar as he took his leave. If Scar had been in the room, he would have questioned why the Princess let this man go. Make no mistake, she had her reasons. The fight was over….for now.
Turning on the remaining crowd, that would include Gabriel and her boy toy, Lydia’s partially melted face would be a gruesome sight. Such beauty now tainted. The right side of her mouth dragged down as though hit by acid. Her head wobbled slightly, as she appeared to have trouble standing. The holy aura had more or less crippled her.
“I shall be turning in. You may find your own way out.” The time for social niceties was over. Gripping the edge of her skirt, she shuffled past the Princess of Wrath and started her way slowly up the spiral stair case. It was a pathetic sight, but one that may well have Gabriel laughing for days. The humiliation of Lydia to be the talk of Hell for a very long time. She stopped only at the top most step, to cast a look down at the carnage. ~Such a waste~ Defeated, she dissappeared from view.
Beserker looked down at where his armor was starting to frost up. He even tilted his head at such magics, but then a low and gruesome laugh came from beneath his mouth grill.
“OOahee seeweay-fen eay-peae peoh-fe z-seeah-ha seewae deeaynaez ah-bae teae, peweay-de-kuk?”
(translation : “You think ice can stop the likes of me, child?”)
The voice almost sounded as though it came from far away, like an echo through a deep dark tunnel. The armor crackled and then started to turn a dark shade of red, but illuminated by a surge of heat, like hell itself. Did the girl not realize that this suit was indeed enchanted, forged in the pits of the damned. If the girl retreated to a safer place using her unique powers, then the game was about to be turned on its head.