Things to Remember (Quest!)

[lysander]

Lysander smiled and nodded. "I'm just making conversation. Pay no mind to me." In all reality, Lysander figured that making conversation was probably not the wisest of decisions. It probably aggravated the man across from him, but even so, the more acting played, the more likely it was that the voice from earlier wouldn't catch onto to their conspirings. He'd lay off on the mocking for now at the very least.

Inhaling a deep breath, his eyes closed, relaxed and serene. He followed the motions with what seemed barely more than a second quicker than Magus. Again an open right was held above an open left. "You win." He spoke without the mock-surprise he'd wanted to use. He didn't want to make an enemy out of an ally, even if this ally couldn't be one-hundred percent trusted anyway. "The score is one to zero. Two rounds left."

[nascent]

"Since we're making conversation, I'd be curious to know your name. Dare I also ask what was stolen from you?"

"Magus." The shadowmage stated, answering his own question as a token of good faith. "My name is Magus... and, in case you're the one who wins this... may I ask you to recover a silver amulet? It's extremely important to me."

He decided that his next play would be 'rock', same strategy. This time his hand rose and fell without announcement, just as the cowboy had done in the first round, keeping the same pace as before.

[lysander]

Lysander rose an eyebrow as the man across from him made a genuine effort to become closer as people. He wasn't exactly the best at making friends, but he wouldn't discourage the man for trying. "Name's Callix. Callix Trane O'Dess. Wish we coulda met under nicer circumstances, huh?" He nodded when the other said his own name, even asked for a favor. "I can do that." He muttered back with another nod as he began to mime Magus's movements.

Thus far, he'd played in order: Paper and scissors. He was definitely going to play a rock this time. Lysander would keep to his own pattern, life or death. When the round was over, he again held the sign for paper above his palm. "The score is one to one. One round left." It was tense for the cowboy. He was cutting it close to the edge to make a good show, and he was doing his best to avoid talking about the journal. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but he kept face.

[nascent]

"Callix. Thank you."

So, this was to be it, then. The last round. Even if the two tied once more it would only delay the inevitable. Upon nothing more than a hand gesture one man would step forward to take what was his... and another would step back.

Callix's every move so far had been 'paper'. For just a moment the mage hesitated in his decision. Was such an obvious pattern really just a set-up for the final move? It was possible... irregardless, there was only one move Magus could make now.

He wondered briefly why the man hadn't mentioned what had been stolen from him, but decided that perhaps such things were best left alone.

"Rock."

"Paper."

"Scissors."

"Shoot."

The mage's last move... was 'scissors'.

[lysander]

Lysander's tired eyes drooped shut, the chant repeated for a forth time, resounding through the still air. His body moved on reflex, stuck in the mundane rut of the game. It would be nice when Magus won the game, and continued on. He'd be free. Released of worry and fret. It was in that moment that all his tenseness culminated, a hard rock in his chest rolling off into his shoulder down into his fingertips, stiffening in the final movement. The final decision. 'paper...'

The kiss of sweet relief washed across him down his throat, and through his body in waves of cool relaxation. His body went slack and he tossed his head back. A laugh erupted off his tongue, and his long strands of black hair danced with wild abandon. "Damn good game." He mumbled back to Magus. "Thanks for that. And I'll tell you what. Don't worry about getting back my friend's journal, but I do want one thing."

Lysander raised his hand as if to give Magus some invisible gift, and in a metallic cloud a gun appeared. It's silver sheen was stunning, the clouds designed along the double barrels handing the tools of death a relaxed and detached feel. With a practiced flick of the wrist the gun was held with the handle towards Magus. "Go on. Take it. All I want from you is one good shot."

[prythian]

((:/ That sucks, Brezz.))

Oh, I'm afraid not... you see, the loser has to pay a far greater price than that of simply not getting their item back, I'm afraid. The voice said, and four arms shot of out portals, grabbing Lysander and lifting him up by his arms and legs. In fact, I'm sure this price will be far more PAINFUL! Lightning ran down the tan, pulsing arms, surging into Lysander's body. The creature wasn't attempting to kill Lysander just yet, so the lightning wasn't too powerful. It wanted him to suffer first.

[nascent]

(OOC: Hope ya feel better soon, man.)


The mage reached out and took hold of the weapon... and almost instantly disaster struck. He quickly tucked the gun, which glowed briefly with a faint green light while in his grasp, into the wrap of navy-blue fabric which served as the wizard's belt, then addressed the situation.

"NO!" He shouted, his voice commanding and defiant all at once. Magus reached back to one side with both of his hands, sparking a flare of crimson light which quickly transformed into a Dreamstone-bladed scythe. He took a step back, and lashed out at the nearest pair of electrified arms. "I'll not permit this!"

[lysander]

[Pay no mind to me. Sorry this post was so long in coming. I put it off and it got deleted a few times.]

Lysander smirked stepping back with his arms thrown wide to either side. You still don't get it...[/color] He almost chuckled despite his mental exhaustion. When you've stolen everything from the man across the poker table, there's nothing left to win. Everything else is just a soft, sweet chaser.[/color] As the tan claws gripped his limbs and lifted Lysander's body fell limp and loose in their grip. Long black strands of hair fell before grim red eyes. He stared straight ahead. There was a strange glint in those eyes.

And then the punishment began. Torrents of electricity rioted through his body, wreaking havoc through his nervous system. Excruciating pain tore him to pieces, an inhuman scream ripping apart his throat. Puffs of metallic smoke exploded around him as his cleavers were summoned and unsummoned rapidly. His telekinesis went wildly out of control. Their silver blades arced and slashed with immeasurable strength, leaving deep scars in the ground and surrounding buildings. Getting near was made almost impossible.

Electricity crackled through the air striking each cleaver as they came close. Blood dripped from his lips, his nose, his ears in streams. Dark burns formed on his forearms and calves around each of the hands. All his muscles tensed, his body wrenching itself apart. One thought blinked through his head. Keep going. Next time you won't get to.[/color] And then all was melted into the stew of pain.[/size]

[prythian]

Before the scythe struck, before it'd even begun swinging through the air, spasms shot down the arms, and the electricity flickered. The arms dropped Lysander's burnt and bloody body to the ground and retreated into the black portals they'd appeared from. That power! The voice howled. How did I not feel this before? What triggered it? There was a strange sobbing note in its voice. The voice then grew with hatred. Youuu... It hissed. You did this to me, you wretched vermin! You shall suffer for my pain!

A large amount of wind gathered in one place, a black portal growing amongst it. The black winds howl, you said. This time they howl... for you! Out of the portal a large creature appeared. It was a large tan floating orb, with 20 arms sticking out of it... each arm has the three claws on the end, and seemed almost like rubber, pulsing in place and bending at awkward angles. The arms were disproportionately skinny to the claws. You shall feel my wrath! It practically screamed, electricity surging down the arms in large jolts as it raised its arms to the sky.

((Cue epic battle music NOW!))

[nascent]

(OOC: Epic battle music cued:

Weapons of Mad Distortion by The Crystal Method

'So, it emerges at last.' The shadowmage thought, taking in the sight of his Hecatonchirean opponent. Somehow he knew this battle would not be easy... even aside from his foe's multiplicity of unnatural arms and apparent strength with the electrical element, its lack of any apparent weak points or vitals would, Magus realized, make this battle rather like hacking away at a hostile brier patch.

But what did it mean by what it spoke? What power?

Fool. You have so very, very much to learn.

Let us see if you can pass this little test.

The blue-haired mage grit his teeth, greatly angered by the voice's discouraging remarks. But more than that, he knew he was in a tight spot. His ally seemed to be down, burnt and bloodied by the torture moments before... the plan was falling apart, and what remained sat squarely upon Magus' own shoulders. It was up to him, now. Life and death rested, for the moment, squarely in his hands.

He drew Dream Reaper back into a ready position, its glowing scarlet blade ready to do its masters bidding. He could, indeed feel it... the reaper's herald, death's anthem... the swirling cold and fearful whispers of the Black Wind. Its wisps stirred his hair, its gales sent his cape whipping about in a fierce breeze that was not truly felt, yet experienced nonetheless.

"Let us see for whom it howls!" Magus shouted. In a swift motion he whipped one of his hands forward, aiming a single arcane gesture towards the creature. From beneath the many-armed orb erupted a gush of flames ten feet wide, rising and spiraling towards the creature's body and limbs. Wasting no time on follow-up, Magus leapt forward and prepared to cut a wide arc with his scythe.

"Prepare for the void!"

[lysander]

(OOC: Psh, you guys've been totally underestimating Lysander. He's gotten the hell beat out of him, but I do believe that it's serious time. *knuckle crack*)

The final flickers of pulsing electricity ushered groans and whimpers from the bloody and bruised body. Like a piece of burnt meat, he dropped to the ground, steam rising from his arms and legs. The world raged on above him, while all things were amplified to white noise of impossible levels. He couldn't hear, couldn't conceive thought, and yet somehow, whether it was sheer will power or blind determination he was still fighting.

With massive gouts of pain tearing across his skin, slicing into his brain, even still he forced himself to stand. How? He had no energy left... and yet there he stood, hunched over right before the great monster, his arms hanging limp, and his head dangling weakly. His hair fluttered and whipped in the breeze. His hat was gone, his jacket was torn to all hell, and blood coated his face and body, but his grim red eyes stared up at the monster with an undying contempt. "You missed your chance... buddy." He spoke with a feral smirk, coughing up a spray of blood as he did so. Mustering the last of his strength he looked upward to the vile thing, and his red eyes held every ounce of malice they could possibly hold.

An otherworldly pressure of irregularly strong magical power built around him, and his weak body swayed but did not fall. His telekinesis built within his clothing so that the very clothes he wore held him together. "Magus. Don't act like this one's all yours."[/color] With a sharp flash the cleavers floated in a square around him. "I want a couple of those arms too."[/color] His fists tightened, and his vengeful smirk built upon itself, his long black hair dancing in the wind with reckless abandon.[/size]

[Edit: Stupid ability clauses.]

[prythian]

You will fall by my hand, magician! The creature hissed as it was bathed in the flames, with no apparent ill effect. You claim to be a master of the arcane arts? You have not the faintest clue of how to use your power effectively. The voice was full of dismissal as its arms stretched out, disappearing into portals. Magus was quickly pummeled by arms at least a dozen times, appearing out of the very air around him. The creature floated backwards out of reach of the scythe attack instead of enduring that, however.

The assault of Magus finishing, the creature turned its attention to Lysander. Your body is not even strong enough to stand on its own. You dare challenge me? Perhaps you wish more punishment before you die... Just like those on your world you couldn't protect.

[lysander]

Lysander's magic wavered as it struggled to hold him up, and he released it, falling back to the ground. Breathing heavily, looking up with his bloodstained face he saw the valiant effort of Magus reduced to nothing as the fists pummeled him. He watched without a wavering gaze, and his eyes held no distinction between sorrow and solace. There was no sense of pain in him as the other's attempt failed. Only a sense of waiting. He grunted as he finally saw what he wanted to see, and shouted.

"My name is Lysander!" He cried, and suddenly his magic welled up, all of his remaining energy accumulating in one focused spot. Lysander grit his teeth, grinning maliciously as he threw all of his magic into... something, while the arms continued to beat on Magus. There was no time for even the monster to react. Lysander's offensive magic capabilities were legendary in their own right. A loud click echoed across the square and suddenly a large silver beam of concentrated, nonelemental energy ripped a hole through the side of Magus's cloak.

But that wasn't simply all that happened. Lysander had timed it so that a fist was directly in line of the barrel when he triggered the blast. Not even something as fast as that ugly monster could evade the strike, nor would any amount of defensive magic be completed in time to stop it. The fist would be obliterated and reduced to ash, and it was the monster's own carelessness for forgetting about the gun. "And I told you..."[/color], he began to speak from the ground. "You've used up the chance you had. You're dead."[/color]

The gun dropped from Magus's cloak, clattering to the ground and dispersing in a puff of mechanical smoke.[/size]

[nascent]

Bruised but not yet beaten, the mage leapt back after his strike failed to land. Regardless of the outcome of Lysander's cunning -- yet a bit close for comfort -- strategy, the mage knew that this battle would not be won in a single opening move. This thing, whatever it was, was clever... and apparently knew enough about the arcane arts that a basic fire spell effected it little if any. That was fine -- in fact, it told him a fair deal about his foe. With that nugget of knowledge he could begin to piece together the creature's strengths and weaknesses... indeed, he had a hunch already regarding that. Still, it was best to save an ace for when one possessed a full hand; instead, Magus had another card to play now, one that he suspected would level the table quite significantly.

"You mock my magic and treat me like a novice." The shadowmage retorted, leveling his diatribe at the many-armed foe. Crimson eyes narrowed, and the faint upturn of his lips' corner formed the hint of a smirk. "Fool! You'll regret underestimating my power."

His free hand twirled in a series of arcane gestures, leather-gloved fingers manipulating aether and immateria to do his bidding. Then, as the spell built into a faint glow, Magus suddenly pivoted sharply on his heel... and leveled his open hand at Lysander. Instantly a radiant haze of sparkling light took shape around the battle-scarred cowboy, the Life Aura's energies sealing up wounds and washing away the burn marks in a gentle whirl of potent restoration.

Whatever power the monstrous thief had been startled by before, it now had something new to fear: two-to-one odds verses a pair of accomplished combatants. Magus braced himself defensively, expecting swift retaliation. This time he'd let the enemy come to him...

[prythian]

The creature had other things to worry about than healing, however. A mental scream reverbrated through the minds of Magus and Lysander as its hand was vaporized by the beam. You'll pay for that, wretch! There was a sense of a gathering of power. The creature returned its arms back near it, one of them now missing a hand. It gathered its power around it, a black haze gathering close to the body of the creature. It began compressing the core into a smaller thing, and then pulsed outwards.

A large booming sound was heard as the compressed wall of air shot outwards towards both of the thief's enemies. It was a twofold attack: The sound blasting their ears and distracting them from the invisible wall hurtling at great speeds towards them.