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A Night to Forget
#51
Alistair came around the bend and found that his little puppet wasn't alone. One figure knelt with her. Another came walking, and a third after him the orb of light floating in the far distance. The shadows were his friend. He stood and watched. Two out of the three men felt ... felt... Alistair didn't know how to explain it.

[[sorry it's short, but Alistair is cowardly and would run away at this point so I'm just posting this to say you guys should see him now with the OP]]
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#52
She was flesh and blood and as far as he could tell, still all in one piece. He could have breathed a sigh of relief, but her fear tightened something in his chest he thought long gone.

Jared asked it before he could. Jay took up a position alongside him, but hung on to Natalie with a hand on the curve of her shoulder. Together, they'd finish the son of a bitch. He didn't care which of them did it, but the man wasn't walking away breathing.

The power ebbed and flowed, itching to be put to use. Instinct drove him thus far, but it was rage that kept a tight grip. Or perhaps the rage of the power fed what heated his own soul. Movement rounded the corner, and with piercing blue eyes better than any LandWarrior's night-vision, a skinny figure came into view.

"There,"
he growled. But he didn't need the sight to know. He sensed the man as much as he sensed the one at his side and the one following behind. "He's a channeler too."
Jay admitted, perhaps to himself, perhaps for Natalie to know. Not that she wasn't aware already. The guy could bring ceilings down on their heads. At least it gave him an idea.

Nox described the texture of the powers, but Jay's own memory of that conversation was dull. Fuzzed. He didn't even know which of the five textures was best. But in the time they all stood there transfixed by each other, he felt them out. The roughest, he focused on it, pulled at it like taking in a deep breath of wet soil, ignoring all other senses. Earth. That was it. Earth. It sung to him. Solid and powerful, like the planet itself. With it, he could crush, carve or roar explosions upon them.

But it was the ceiling he targeted. Jay kept his ground, jaw tight as a light sweat wet his brow. Hoping the fall of the tunnel would crush the man body and bone. It was like lifting a huge weight, one that he barely moved. A thought occurred that the power itself may crush his own bones to dust.

Hopefully it didn't.



<small>
((Jay is channeling at the ceiling over Alistair, but he can only handle 1 thread (earth) and not do anything else while channeling, so he's standing still. Jared, feel free to add to the flows or attack in some other manner.))</small>
Only darkness shows you the light.


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#53
Alistair stood in the shadows, but he was spotted. They flows came at him. Struck above his head. He stood staring in awe at the revelation that he could see others like him working their magics.

The cavern started to shake and Alistair knew that meant he needed to be away. Whatever he was doing was going to crush him in the end. The power inside was intense and he drew upon as much as he dared before weaving a ball of earth and flung it at his attacker.

Alistair didn't wait to see if it landed or even went where he intended it as he turned on his heels and several feet before he skid to a halt. The ceiling was shaking dust on to his shoulders. The roof would collapse. Holes were starting to form in the sides and Alistair stopped and stared at one, he peired through the crack and saw nothing...

He climbed through. It was a tight squeeze, but if they chased he'd not go the way they'd expected. And Alistair added his own rock to the new forming crack. His gift filled the crevice with dirt and while it wasn't perfect they might miss it in the dash to chase him.

But now Alistair found himself in darkness...with scratching sounds all around.
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#54
The other legionnaire moved off at a pace Soren didn't bother to match. As he moved down the tunnel he sensed more than saw the presence of another like him ahead, and by the time his orb of light lit the scene dust was already raining down thick. What idiot dug runes into the ceiling? The stupidity was astounding. He paused, power flaring, but unwilling to go physically closer.

[[I'm not sure if you've all been waiting for me. Sorry if you have; I've been waiting for one of you to react to Alistair's attack, since Soren is lagging behind and the threat is pretty immediate. Anyway, I'll let you guys react to Alistair's attack before I post Natalie. Oh, and Merry Christmas!]]
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#55
((Thats right. we were totally waiting on soren. *wink))

Jay was too focused on the flows to barely notice anything besides making sure they didn't burn him to a crisp. This power was terrifying and beautiful at the same time. The sheer immensity of its strength was glorious, and yet, he knew that what flowed through him was less than what flowed through Jared. Less still than what flowed through Soren. He felt like he was bringing a knife to a gun fight.

The cavern shook and dust rained down. It slicked across his face, and he coughed as it thickened the air. His grip on the flows weakened, and the power started to swarm like blood had been dripped in a pool of sharks, and Jay gasped. A far-flung knot of power, color and light pulsed bright in front of them. He shoved Natalie aside. In the next moment his back slammed to the ground. Wind knocked out of him, he groaned, and probably cursed. The power was gone from his grasp and the tunnel came to stillness.
Only darkness shows you the light.


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#56
*kicks thread.
Only darkness shows you the light.


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#57
((Moding you all along)).

The ceiling thing may have been a bad idea. The coward was gone. Natalie was near. The others were warning them that the cavern may collapse. Jared kicked him. Okay, maybe kick was an exaggeration, but they dragged Jay to his feet. He peered down the corridor, willing the bastard to show himself again, but the snaps and rumbling grew to concerning levels.

"Let's get the hell out of here,"
he stated the obvious. They hurried back the way they came. Soren and Jared used their lights to lead the way. Jay kept a hand on Natalie's elbow. Totally to make sure she didn't trip on one of the dead rats ahead, and not at all because he was still dizzy. The power was out of reach anyway. Even if he could find it, then he doubted he could control it yet.

They all climbed back into the dive bar. Nobody cared that they broke in. It was still empty.

He helped the others seal the portal shut. Nothing in there was coming back out this way. First thing he did after giving Natalie a good look up and down to see she was all in one piece was go straight to the bar and pour them all a shot of whatever liquor was strongest.

His heart was pounding. His head dizzy. The power was still unreachable. But they all went in and made it out alive. If not a little dirty. All in all, Jay counted it as a successful mission.

So then why was he shaking?

Edited by Jay Carpenter, Dec 30 2017, 04:39 PM.
Only darkness shows you the light.


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#58
((OOC my apologies for my absense - my muse completely died and I just revived it today. I'll be out the rest of the day, but promise I'll post here tomorrow - my sincerest apologies)).
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#59
Jared worked his way out with the group, self-preservation taking more precedence than getting the man who had done this. Jay clung to Natalie, and Jared's wallet buzzed. Jared ignored it for now.

Jared no longer felt the power emanating from Jay. Likely the stress had kept him from holding it. But Natalie was rescued. The three of them and the stranger were out of the building and back in the dive bar.

Jay made sure Natalie was okay and then went to pour them a shot. The bar itself was empty of patrons besides themselves, and that could be a good thing.

Jared quickly checked his wallet.

Quote:<dl>
<dt>Incoming Message from Emily Shale</dt>
<dd> </dd>
</dl>
"Heya - there's going to be a fundraiser ball this weekend. It benefits Africa, so it wouldn't surprise me if you're already there, but I would like you to accompany me.


Jared smiled and responded.

Quote:<dl>
<dt>Outgoing Message to Emily Shale</dt>
<dd> </dd>
</dl>
"It would be my honor, Ms. Shale.


He quickly turned to Natalie. "Are you alright? Do you need and will you accept healing?"
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#60
The club looked dire in the light. Natalie's bare toes scrunched with the thought of what might coat underfoot as they left the depths of the tunnels behind. Jay pulled her onwards like he led Eurydice from the Underworld, rules be damned. She'd faced danger before, but it was the first time she had ever stared down the darkness and truly feared it might claim her. The shock faded now, doused beneath the ice of her composure; she tunnel visioned towards this whole sorry adventure becoming memory. Skimmed over the horror. Okay, maybe she was a little dazed.

Silence reigned after they surfaced; enough to make Natalie wonder what the three had seen in the tunnels. She'd heard the gunfire and the screaming before they had descended on her flight from Alistair, and she'd seen at least one of the creatures the man had been keeping down there. Stiff drinks were pilfered from the bar. She palmed the shot but didn't drink; the thought made her stomach roil, and reminded her just how badly her head pounded.

She must look a mess for Jared to offer healing. Blood rusted her wrists and hands, but the cuts were superficial. "I'm okay. Thank you."
Formality met formality. She appreciated the kindness, but it was unnecessary considering whose stupidity resulted in her injuries; she wouldn't mock his gift by accepting it so lightly. Her pale gaze kept returning to Jay, pinched with a concern she didn't give voice to; convinced he'd only shrug it off. The voicemail, what she could remember of it, buzzed in the back of her mind.

"So what happened to you?"


She turned to Alvis, what little sentiment had been in her expression wiping clean. She considered what to say. What he might tell her father. Whether it truly mattered anyway. "I went to make a call. Someone followed me. I woke up strapped down, with that man."
Already the words divorced themselves from her, like she spoke the words of a story. But there was something too careful about it, too emotionless. She danced around the memory; the blind panic of waking restrained. "Does the name Alistair Pavlo mean anything to anyone?"
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