[Order vs Chaos] THE SIEGE - Printable Version

When Chaos did at last show in all its twisted malice and writhing imperfection, it could not be said that Ace had not expected his landbound comrades to meet their claws, magic, and blades first. For them to be the initial targets was easy to foresee; how could anyone believe otherwise when not a one of that disgusting brood was remotely capable of competing against Mother's fine creations. They had no true fliers among their number, merely brutes with wings for display instead of genuine performance. Even the fierce monster which had bothered climbing the skies to reach superior opponents lacked the natural prowess to do so without outside aid, a power unfurling at her sides required in order to have the barest chance of driving a weaker air combatant like Bone to ground.

Pathetic, came the word to his mind. Doubly so once it became clear that these scum needed to work in pairs against the most sedentary of soldiers. Orthus, as much as he respected his sibling, was one of the army's slower fighters due to personality more so than anatomy. A scoff couldn't be helped witnessing the blows rained upon the other Drone despite how pain lanced across multiple links leading down to the beach. The anger of his fellows enhanced his own incredulity at the uneven battle below.

He was still assessing the field, probing about for which situation seemed most dire and in need of a miracle from above when the war finally realized he was a threat to shoot down. From a point in the distance, violet streaked through the air and branched into a series of dark jagged lines. If not for his surveillance, the speed at which it approached might've taken Ace off guard completely, a couple blinks of the eye enough for the attack to be moments away from hitting. Awareness afforded him the ability to try and avoid sudden pain.

On a sharp inhale, wings snapped close to his body. He plummeted, twisting to face the lightning with belly facing up as it surged above. Flesh tingled as sparks threatened to wreak havoc and leave him a muscle-locked, jaw-grinding mess, but not a single one managed to touch. The most discomfort was the surrounding heat that made a distant part of the Drone long for Ursa's cold. He arrested his fall as the worst of the danger passed, a corkscrew flipping him upright to return to less daredevil, normal flight.

A loudmouth himself, Mirac's challenge would not go unanswered. As soon as the source of his close brush with pain was located amongst the fire-blasted sand and clashing warriors, the precious breath he'd saved for a special occasion like this had no reason to be held for much longer. It was loosed, the boom of thunder after a strike.

"Mutual? Ain't anything mutual about eating my dust, Mir-Wrecked! But if you want to go, then let's go, and ol' Skyreaver will give you a one-way trip to dead!"

The slashes that appeared upon the Drone's hide didn't draw blood. Strange! No red or black dripped from the pristine skin. Nothing but a mar upon its thick hide. It wondered if the cuts simply were not deep enough, or if Order was so beyond mortality and nature that they simply did not carry blood in their veins. They were empty, stale, as white and blank as their appearances.

It had really expected the drone to lunge for the Sentinel - the first one to attack, after all - but to have it turn around and go after the bigger one? They were stupid. Very stupid! The Warden cackled as Orthus bit down on its leg, feeling agony shoot up to its shoulder, but it didn't seem to be discouraged, but rather green fire alight in its eyes at the pain.

It could feel dark blood running down its foot, saw thick black appearing where the monster's teeth were puncturing flesh. "Drink up, beast," it hissed. "I have plenty of honorless blood to spill! Do Drones even bleed? Or are you hollow inside? I'd like to see for myself, if we're talking of spilling blood!"

Its life had been lonely, ever since that fateful encounter. It just enough intelligence to understand that it was wounded, and needed to recover if it wanted to continue as it had done. This came in the form of languishing in shaded water like a living oil spill, leaking its... various fluids into the surrounding area. Thankfully Leo's "ocean" was too large to efficiently pollute - still, the few lessers it saw made a point of avoiding the area.

Her only company had been the shadow puppets cast by dragons in flight. They had not noticed her, tucked away as she was, and it understood that was for the best. If the worm had reacted with such violence to just its presence, then there was no predicting what a creature as grand and powerful might make of it. It watched them fish, sometimes. It fought the urge to dance in their shapes, those grand shadows. To tempt them downwards. 'Come closer - you can become me and I can become you. We can trade our shapes and dance in sea wind. Leak our oils into the depths below.'

She could not do this, so instead she sobbed softly into the lake.

But one day, as if her sorrow had manifested it, like she had willed it into existence - there were noises further down the beach. Dim eyes now glittering with hunger, she limped to her feet. It had barely been a couple of days since the battle, but a shredded leg would not stop it from its pursuit. It saw them - so many - tangled together. the ripping of flesh, the hissing, the snapping - it understood this. It had seen it. It had imagined teeth and claws raking against its tissue so often it felt like it had never left the fight.

But the flash of chitin, the gleaming white... "You... Came back?" Not Rena, clearly. But relatives were simply an extension of the self, in its mind. Their absence hurt the same - not that she could understand that. "y-OU." It began to repeat, its ragged voice raising. It began to walk forward again, faster. "CAME." Louder, faster, a trot quickly transitioning-

"BACK." It charged forward, uncaring of the way its limb stung, of the spray of reopened wounds. In a straight line, it shot for Alcina, jaws wide. The feeling of flesh tearing between its teeth - it would no longer be memory.

But unfortunately, it would stay intangible for now - what was left in its place was the feeling of stumbling, falling... and a face left half buried in sand. Despire her enthusiasm, her injured leg couldn't match it.

Time to make good on that promise. No sooner had the last words been spat than Ace began to alter his flight path in preparation for the ensuing clash. Where once he'd flown straight, now the Drone weaved a zigzag pattern intended to complicate his opponent's aim. Here effectiveness was hampered by Order's quirks though none of its children would ever claim those a disadvantage: should one be observant enough, predictability could be read in the sharp turns made, each timed perfectly seconds apart.

"Now, pay close attention because I'm going to make this quick," he taunted, mockery lacing every syllable. "Your Oily stick, out of my airspace. Pounded into the sand, coughing up grains."

Snout tipped downward, his entire body following suit, and wings tucked against sides with a sound akin to canvas flapping in the wind. Jaws snapped shut, and he divebombed, focus narrowed to the object of his wrath. Hook-ended forelimbs lashed out, red-tinged tips directed at Mirac's blade.

She'd been here and there over the many cycles she'd lived in Leo. Most of the time she spent in Ursa, flying among the highest peaks, at home in the cold and constant snow of the mountains. But now was a time when she was here with the Lair - a little distant from the newest children around, but not minding their company. For now, she was resting on her own, sleeping in her own nest..but then the roaring started.

At first she was just annoyed. Was Dread just making a racket again? But then there were other voices. Screams and shouts, yells of anger and the blast of magic. She lifted her head, now fully worried. Was Leo under attack?

She got up and quickly made her was out into the open, taking off into the air as soon as she could. As she glided towards the place were she heard the ruckus from, her heart dropped to her stomach. Everything...was in utter chaos. Beasts she'd never seen before fighting monsters, the dragons swooping along blasting fire and sickness. Furious shouts as gembound fought and threw spells at each other, flashes of light and darkness came from this way and that...what was going on?!

It didn't take long, however, for Asimona to spot Vargas. Rage she hadn't felt in many cycles boiled through her. Eyes flicked to each of the beasts around him and she could spot him in so many. The six eyes, the strange triangular face, the purple hide, the spikes...

He had his own lair of spawn!

Another roaring through the air distracted her, however, and felt a violent jolt through her body. Bone - in battle against a horrid monstrosity, the likes of which Asimona had never seen before. Dripping black oil, bloodred wings, a face that wasn't a face but a shell. The idea of Vargas wiped from her mind. The question of what was going on and who were the enemies was ripped away. Nothing mattered besides protecting her daught.

She let out her own roar and swerved through the air towards the aerial fight. Bone was already blasting fire on her opponent, so Asimona wouldn't ruin it with her ice. Instead, she beat her wings to get on the same level as Bone, inhaled a deep breath and blasted a stream of powerful air, to slam into the monster and throw her to the ground once the fire had done its toll.

"YOU WILL NOT HURT MY FAMILY!"

The Zoisite followed behind the rest, using a sense of touch and hearing to trail behind the others rather than her sight. The sound of battle clashed before it, and it dreaded the fight. It wished that it could have gone with Labradorite, but the waters were not a place for it.

So instead, it breathed, and let the sensation of war overtake it. To become nothing but a worm, writhing, a tool of destruction to be used relentlessly. It would keep an eye out for the Labradorite if it could-- defend them, for they had family at home-- but as it reared up, eyes flashing over the battlefield, it saw that there was no sense to make of any of it.

Nidhogg's flashing green glow on oil was one of many flashes of color on dark against the tide of white, but when he vanished into a hole, V-Zoisite-One raced across the sand to it. One of Order's warriors, a thing of tendrils and spikes, was striking into the hole at the now vulnerable Nidhogg, and it was all the Zoisite could do to close the gap and strike: mandibles snapped, razor-sharp and fast as lightning, aiming to sever the leg of the beast.

The Zoisite lunged over the hole, a snap ringing through the air as it interceded-- perhaps too late to stop Nidhogg from injury, but fast enough to make sure that particular limb didn't hurt anyone ever again, so long as it connected with its target.

Nidhogg, like some lost derelict ship lost beneath the sea, could do very little but sink. That wasn't to say he didn't try to save himself: he squirmed, thrashing beneath the weight of the sand falling around him. He also felt, rather than really heard, the sudden approach--only a step or two away!--of Juggernaut coming for him.

Oh, shit-

He threw himself back, writhing away in serpentine fashion, as the massive, pointed spear of a leg abruptly shoved downward. There was a lancing pain as it shredded a shuddering line down through his flank, ripping a deep and jagged wound from shoulder to loin. A hoarse screeching scream erupted from the pit, and he barely noticed the neon flash of Zoisite leaping overhead--all he knew was agony as he turned and scrambled for the edge.

He left a splattering of Oiled, toxic blood behind him, flaring green and fading into black. It would be very clear from the frantic nature of his attempts to escape that he was very mindlessly afraid: the only ruling instinct that of escape.

Being trapped beneath the behemoth known as Juggernaut, with its pointed jackhammer legs, was not Nidhogg's idea of a good day.

So many enemies - so damn many. The chaos of the battle was getting to it, one problem half-fixed leading to another one charging at it, pincers snipping. A cry from below told it that its strike had met its mark, but the shape scurrying away let him know that he had yet to actually finish the job. Juggernaut wished he knew more swears - something to ask Ace about later.

He lamented the Zoisite's design for a brief moment, before it launched itself at the drone's legs. Symmetrical; Whether that was incidental or not, it earned her a mote of respect, appreciation of a good shape. But it didn't change the reality of the situation. A shame, that this one would not join them as a sister.

The attack came fast, vicious - He rose the limb again, retracting it from her reach, but even that might not be enough. He braced for impact.

It came, though not as severe as intended. The Chaos-beast shore the tip away easily, enough to reach the webbing within, the part severed the human equivalent of a fingertip, halfway down towards the first joint. It would not disable his movement completely, but it'd certainly limit it.

And now Juggernaut had three tasks to juggle - protecting Orthrus, finishing the lizard, or attacking the worm.