One Breath
Log Info
- Title: One Breath
- Emitter: Zeke, Cryosanthia
- Characters: Aya, Braelnoir, Sabina
- Place: A03: The TarRaCe and nearby Shadowlands
- Time: Sunday, September 12, 2021, 3:41 PM
- Summary: Lily dies.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* The TarRaCe *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
Inside, this two-story structure has been almost completely opened up. Generous windows on both stories allow daytime sunlight and cooling night breezes to flow in as needed, while the brick walls have been whitewashed - contrasting with the dark-stained beams and supports, and the rich polish on the wooden floor. A broad strip of stone runs from the entrance to a framed doorway set into the opposite wall, with a sign above the lintel declaring that the baths are to be found that way.
The ground floor is sprinkled with tables and chairs of assorted sizes, offering welcome to guests both large and small. One whole corner of the building - into which guests are not permitted entry - has been given over to the kitchen, which serves as the domain of the famed monster chef Ligum Serforus. Mundane meals are available, but the chef delights in offering up obscure dishes made from the freshest of monster ingredients.
Opposite the kitchen a small bar runs in front of an array of shelves, displaying a broad selection of beverages (most of them alcoholic). The bar-top has been fashioned from what looks to have been old pieces of armor, fused and welded together before being polished to provide a near-smooth finish. Set above it, three human-sized statues have been built into an alcove in the wall: Tarien, Rada and Ceinara jointly keep benevolent watch over the room and its occupants.
To the right of the entrance, a small stage offers a platform for a handful of performers at a time. To the left of the door, a spiral staircase of wrought iron winds its way up to a balcony dining area, that is chiefly reserved for special events and parties.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-= Braelnoir 5'11" 146 Lb Human Female A tall, pale Acanian woman, branded in silver. Aya 4'7" 105 Lb Shadow Elf Female Mul'niessa. Braided hair. Simple clothing. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= NPCs of Note =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Little Fang 'Lily' Kobold Female A pinkscale youngling in a leather dress, Cryo's daughter. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Zeke 6'8" 239 Lb Sith-Makar Male A blue-scaled sith-makar in white Daeus vestments. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
It's a nice day, blue sky with clouds jumping across it. Each gust of wind causing large steps, as if the sphere of heaven was ticking by like a clock, or Ea ratcheting forward beneath it, depending on one's theological perspective.
The TarRaCe is busier than usual, two-thirds full. It is operating just below the entire compliment of staff, servers, bussers and cooks in full swing. There isn't a live performance today, which might be significant. Some acts have been frightening the customers.
Of course, it might be due to the rumours that dragon is on the menu. There was a very suspicious and dramatic arrival late last evening which has some patrons asking if there's a 'secret dish'.
No, no there isn't.
At a table near the bar and the staff entrance to the back rooms, a carnation-scale sits on a tall chair. In front is a plate of nachos, and another of fruit. Surrounding the table is a web of spider-silk lines which all connect to a small crossbow, that's mounted on what looks like a mechanical crab.
The kobold is anxious, and eating quickly. Fiddling with the device seems to be her stress relief. She looks across at her aunt, asking again, "Ssassa isss going be okay?"
Across the table, and the hilt of her scythe lain upon it, a mercury haired human woman is almost mechanically feeding herself from her own tray of nachos. In lieu of her usual accompaniment of such repast, like fortified beer, she's drinking something to keep her alert.
The question washes a thoughtful shadow over Brae's features, before she flashes a reassuring smile, "Hey, Cryo's tough, she'l pull through, you'll see."
She washes down the half chewed mush she'd tucked into a cheek to offer such comforting words, then, "Shapeshift didn't look that extreme, kinda like when I scale up, or Ssassa gets that big-ol' grin of hers, right? Seen-" experienced, "lot worse'n that. She's tough, you'll see."
Yes, everything will be fine. All will be well. Which is exactly what Aya believed until just a moment ago. Her first stop was a room where someone was resting and/or hibernating, arriving via her typical shadowy suddenness. Alas, there is a distinct lack of pink.
Aya emerges from the hall and into the main room on foot, eyes darting around as she considers where she might need to venture next. She spots the conspicuous web of trap-lines first, and immediately rushes for them; intervening furniture, servers, patrons, and the like register only as obstacles to be leapt over side-stepped, or pushed aside. There is no such grace concerning Lily's traps, this time, however, as she simply barrels through the lines. Aya will happily concede victory to Little Fang later.
The mul barely slows to a halt before Lily and Braelnoir, eyes wide and still and still darting to the periphery even after having found her quaery. "Lily is in grave danger!" she hisses in a harsh not-quite whisper. "She needs to leave! Now!"
GAME: Aya rolls will: (4)+15: 19
The source of Aya's anxiety is not immediately apparent. The doors to the TarRaCe open in her wake to offer entrance to another patron, but he seems very much like any other. He has moderately long black hair and black eyes. His clothing suggesting that he is perhaps more for a reason rather than to frequent this particular establishment. Nice clothes, not remarkable, but fine make and fine fit. He looks around the establishment and smiles to himself when his eyes land on... Aya.
The little kobold bobs her head, eyes focused on the mercurial merc, her words are a lifeline. She understands on some level that things must get worse before they get better, but her hope is that point has been passed. That the long, anxious wait pays off.
Stuffing a handful of chips in her mouth, she crunches them as she wipes her hands on her leather dress and then fiddles with one of the crossbow's lines. "Big ssmile for big wordsss. Grrarrr!" Her grin is nowhere near as large or threatening, but she tries.
Then her crossbow jumps under her hand and swivels to shoot a soft dart at Aya. Her grin freezes as she's hit by the panic and warning. She manages only a squeak of confusion, "Tia Ay-aysss?"
Her Ssassa has trained her well, however, and her nest-mother before. Hide when there's danger. Run! She doesn't know where, or why, but if Aunty-Nemesis is telling her to go... then Tia Braysss will know where. Lily is out of her seat and across the table, scattering food as she snatches up her crossbow and Fish-tank and brings the whole mess onto Braelnoir's shoulders.
The smile broadens some as Lily seems to get it pretty straight on without a lot of extra fuss. "Graaaarrr!"
She's a good girl.
Bright.
The Korite, as much as she's trying to reassure her niece, is still pretty keyed up by the still mysterious state her sister's found herself in.
That said, the incoming charge has a hand closing around a haft before the meat-laden chip hits the tablecloth as her wolflike eyes swing toward the incoming form of- Aya??
There's a blink, even as Brae stands with a, "Aya!" proper identification chased by, "Th'fuck?" that's more 'alarmed dismay' than 'I need you dead'. The warning turns her attention to the little one, "C'mon, squirt!" without hesitation, dipping into a crouch as the pink kobold is already scrambling toward her to make the climb easier.
The new arrival doesn't visually send any flags her way, but the timing does, and some of the threading in her irises shift from bright amber to glittering gold.
Time for an egress...
"I'll explain later," is all that Aya offers to both Lily and Braelnoir at the moment. Her eyes shift from them to the patrons and the doorway. It's obvious that she is expecting someone or something, but what? Human? Gnome? Sildanyari?
It could be the arriving man's eyes on her, or the grin, or perhaps both that set her futher on edge; as if she were not enough so already. For the moment, her focus stays on him and she takes a step between Braelnoir-Lily and the entrance. Now she adds to the pair, without glancing to them. "She must go. Now."
Yes, she's not very forthcoming.
Yes, there's a room full of people.
Yes, she may prove not even an inconvenience, must less an interference.
Concerns for later; she can only have one priority at a time.
"My, my so it is true." The man's voice purrs, low and hard to hear through the din of the unsuspecting people between the man and the small group that makes up Aya, Braelnoir, and Lily. He makes his way easily - quickly through the crowd. "I've been waiting, and all this time you knew, didn't you Aya?" He's getting closer and closer with each passing moment while Lily scurries up Brailnor's shoulders to 'safety'.
He looks at Aya. "Do you really want to sacrifice so much for something that's going to die regardless of what you do?" He's only thirty feet away now, nobody's trying to stop him, and why should they? He doesn't seem threatening at all.
Kobolds are squirrelly, they have to be. They're small and easily puntable, even at their largest size. Wouldn't even break toes.
Little Fang doesn't even reach that stature, she's a barely noticeable encumbrance as she clamps onto Braelnoir, and straps herself into the saddle. She's not expecting acrobatics from her auntie, but that's what Ssassa always told her to do.
Her mind races. Don't lead danger back to the Nest! Lead it into traps. "Away," she hisses, crouched behind Braelnoir's head, "Cooksss, outsssidess."
The kitchens are right behind them, Lily is smart enough not to give away destinations within earshot.
Also, she can't think of a good one.
Braelnoir's eyes narrow and she starts to draw back; the shifting weight dispersion of Lily on her back reminds her that her strokes won't be particularly accurate with her scrabbling for purchase the whole time. She nods as Lily settles into her little saddle-arrangement and makes her advisory as she hisses, "Good thoughts Stay flat against me, Little Fang, close as you can." <Draconic>
She spares the Mul'niessa a quick glance, "C'mon!" and decides to make her way towards the kitchens, with intent for the back way. For a human, specially considering her equipment, she can move when she has to.
Protect her niece...
- defend the objective...
- Withdraw and fortify...
Aya remains where she stands for the moment, making note of Braelnoir's movement by sound rather than diverting her eyes. Her attention is solely on the dark-haired man. If his attention is on her, then it isn't elsewhere. One snowy brow arches, pulling the lipcorner below into a smirk. Veneer or not, it is a comfortable expression and well-worn into her visage.
"Had you not heard? Mul'niessa lie as we breathe. Obviously, you're not as omniscient nor omnipotent as you would have others believe."
The man laughs, but continues to follow Braelnoir, moving quickly after her toward the kitchens. He doesn't seem to care about Aya. Not at all. His sole focus - unfortunately - seems to be upon Braelnoir and upon the small figure clinging to her back. "No time for your humor now Aya, I've more important things on my mind." He seems fast. Very fast actually. Faster perhaps than Braelnoir with her burden, even through the crowd which does not hinder him much at all.
Lie flat, she does. The merc can feel the little Kobold squeezed against the back of her neck, her head turned against the back of her skull, arms encircling her neck so her little claw-hands can clamp on the ring collar of her breastplate. The saddle has straps over Lily's thighs and her feet are hooked into the ones that run under Braelnoir's shoulders.
She knows the game 'be as quiet as you can'. A small thrum of worry is felt more than heard. Lily's trust is in her aunty, her aunties, to save her. All she can do is hold on tight.
Feeling the Kobold press obediently against her is a comfort. She'll have more proper freedom to move, and needn't worry overmuch about her swings clipping a tail or something, plus, she'll listen without hesitation.
She's a good girl
Brae pushes through the doors into the chamber beyond with a crisp, "OUTTA THE WAY"R DIE!" to try and clear the path.
Her scythe, perhaps either in pursuance of emphasis, or the expectation that she's going to be forced to stand and fight, reindexes into her proper killing grip.
Back door... back door... outside... maybe do some alley ratting....
It was worth the attempt... Aya's smirk fades as the man passes her in a beeline for the kitchen-bound, Brael-mounted kobold. She doesn't doubt Braelnoir's heart, only the speed of her stride... which may be somewhat moot, in comparison, regardless. With 'friendly banter' out of the way, the next option is an attempt to pick up the pace... Aya vanishes from her spot to coalesce immediately at her sister-in-arms with niece-in-her-arms, putting a hand to both.
"Hold firm," is the only warning she gives before striving to shift the three of them -through- the kitchen shadows rather than merely through them. If nothing else, it is definitively 'anywhere but here,' and does give them a vast speed advantage compared to covering 'normal' ground.
Whether that actually forestalls their pursuer will remain to be seen.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20-1: (6)+-1: 5 (Lily Will save)
At once Aya and the man reach Braelnoir practically in the same moment, but Aya is perhaps a touch faster. Whatever the reason, everyone finds themselves in the realm of shadows. Seemingly safely outside the reach of the man... Until he too appears in the dark. This time standing not mere inches from Lily. He looks down at the pink kobold and offers her a toothy smile. "It doesn't matter where you go dearest. I'll be there to follow. All you do is irritate me Aya, stop this nonsense."
Shadows and darkness are a comfort, the light hurts Little Fang's eyes. Hiding in a hole in the ground is the first thing she knew, and while the shadow-realm isn't the same, it feels like home.
Until the stranger appears.
It feels like her home, being destroyed. There are no safe spaces. Terror runs through her, and she clings even more tight. She bares her fangs in fearful defiance, looking silly, one tooth much larger than the other.
No hissing, no sounds. In terror she is quiet. Braelnoir can feel her tremble.
Braelnoir gets a half-twist between strides as Aya is suddenly appearing next to her, her weapon coming up in reflex, before she takes the hand, "Do't!"
The actual shift tosses her cookies just a bit, though her experiences with the plane shifting house and teleport scrolls have buttressed her tummy against compulsive horking in response.
Her next stride goes slightly errant at the shift in venue, but she barely has time to register the transport when suddenly they have company.
The Korite spins to put him into proper facing putting herself effectively between her Niece and the Very Bad Man and her weapon comes up in a warding posture, "Like a flea on a hounds ass!" she remarks.
Running, even through the Plane of Shadows, seems now longer (or far less) a viable option. In hindsight, Aya is impressed that the Korite withdrew for as long as she did. When Braelnoir rotates to face him, Aya is less surprised and more... accepting. At least that puts a few more inches between him and Lily. She turns, in kind, to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Korite.
"Only irritated?" Again, the brow. Nay, both of them lift. "It seems that I need to try harder. Let me know when you're angry." Something she's uncertain whether she can, or how, or how the outcome can be anything remotely pleasant. A point where long-serving logic, and more than a little selfishness, would scream that withdrawing herself somewhere else is the best course of action. Which she could easily do... in the past.
Though not now.
Now, it appears time to aunties up, bitches, and go all in.
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20+2: (8)+2: 10 (Lily Fort Save)
The man shakes his head at Aya. "Almost amused really. That you would even think of coming against me for something that I only needed to get this close to." He steps back. Only a little bit in fact, and makes a motion with his hand. Breathing /in/ and Lily responds, a thin white smoke pouring out of her mouth and into the demon.
The touch lightens, the grip loosens, the little carnation-scaled body goes limp. The straps are the only things holding it in place. There is a dead weight on Braelnoir's shoulders.
Little Fang is dead.
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "rage, vital strike, power attack, this will be +2 for rage-3 for power attack" GAME: Braelnoir rolls weapon1+2-3: (17)+16+2+-3: 32
Her understanding of magic, hell, her understanding even of who this yahoo -is- is sparse, but the streaming over Brae's shoulder she recognizes as a profound problem.
The sudden slump of weight at her back, the little snout brushing against the Hanging Man before slacking limp snuffs the warmth in the Korite's heart.
- Rolson...
Amber becomes slit pupiled gold...
- Cryosanthia...
Even as she's moving forward in a hellish wail of rage, her skin blooms tiny silver flecks that merge into a pebbled mirror sheen, claws erupting from her fingers...
- Merek....
And the Scythe is coming up with everything she has.
Shame.
Guilt.
Anguish, "LILLLLLAAYYYYYYYY!!!!"
HATE.
RRRAAAAAAAGEEE!
She doesn't call Kor to Witness.... he probably already is.
Sinews snap taut beneath the gleaming skein of silver scale and polished armour as the Korite brings her enchanted scythe across the man, trying to hew him from grin to groin, but the ensorcelled blade fails to land true.
"I'll KILL YOU!!!!"
<OOC> Aya shall expend 3 Ki and make one strike. Quivering Palm. <OOC> Zeke says, "For notes, it's actually 4 Ki ;3" <OOC> Aya nods. Ring of Ki Mastery reduces cost, but yes. :) GAME: Aya rolls weapon0: (12)+25: 37 GAME: Aya rolls damage0: aliased to 2d10+6: (13)+6: 19 <OOC> Aya says, "Magic/silver/cold iron/adamantine/lawful." <OOC> Zeke says, "It's a solid blow. What's the DC for the save?" <OOC> Aya checks. Though Aya is not -quite- activating it yet, "DC is 24. Though he wouldn't know that? ;)"
Even at the edges of the Plane of Shadow, even to one who does not need, nor generally care for the light... the world is suddenly dimmed.
A light has gone out, and the world is colder, darker place for it.
So to, does Aya become, her expression and even posture becoming neutral, yet by no means casual.
It is not due to a lack of fiery rage; oh, there is no shortage of this flaring up within her. Yet, unlike others, she does not allow it to the surface. Instead of flowing free, it is harnessed. Focused. Condensed into a single point.
There is no sudden flurry of activity, no hammering of a thousand blows from an equal number of directions. There is no thought of arrangements, plans, nor consequence. There is only singular purpose as she darts forward with a sole, darting strike at his solar plexus.
Upon impact, whether physically crushing or not, all of that coalesced rage is transferred into his ... being. There is no soul, per se, but whatever holds the vile pile of scheming pus together is an apt enough description. Even then, her expression holds neither joy nor anger, but only ...cold.
"I wish to make a new bargain. Release her, restore her, and I will spare your existence." As she recalls, he has a penchant and predilection for these sorts of arrangements.
The man glances down at himself and laughs. "Oh yes, kill me." He spreads his arms and looks at Aya blandly. "Your little punch does not scare me - you - do not frighten me. The most you are is an inconvenience. But look." He motions toward Braelnoir's back. "I restore her to life even now."
He makes a motion with his hand and the little body jerks in an odd parody of life, but... there's something utterly /wrong/ about how Lily's body moves. The man laughs lightly. "You might want to release yourself from her before she kills you... Those waking to new life often find the discovery rather... Unexpected." He laughs and laughs, a deep echoing sound that mocks them both.
New life.
After her tiny one was cut short.
Kobolds are so incredibly easy to kill. Children also. A Kobold child... it shouldn't be a surprise that all it took was a breath. One out. Another one in.
Is the reanimating form even Little Fang? Is it all the worst parts of her, empowered, with the fragile sphere of innocence and goodness deep inside popped once and for all. Or is she simply a shell, housing one of his minions, one resonant but not her, with access to her memories and all the more dangerous with Lily's actual soul somewhere else. In him, in Hell, in much the same place either way.
Kobolds are naturally evil, craven, cruel, abusive, from instinct and upbringing. Cryosanthia tried so hard, with love, with family, with better examples to turn one little one around and she was succeeding.
Until months of love was undone with one breath.
Screams. There are screams.
And a rage. And tiny claws. Reminding the Korrite, there is only killing.
<OOC> Braelnoir says, "vital strike, single swing" GAME: Braelnoir rolls weapon1+2: (8)+16+2: 26 <OOC> Braelnoir says, "rpp reroll" GAME: Braelnoir rolls weapon1+2: (13)+16+2: 31
Braelnoir isn't on board with the sparing him part of Aya's plan.
It's debatable, based on the tears, the frothing rage, the almost sinew-popping force she's investing in her every swing, whether she's intending to spare anything within reach.
Mercy is a hallmark of nurturing. Of compassion.
The laughter holds the Korite's ire at the moment, even as tiny claws pull blood and tiny silver scales from her face, her shoulder. Her footing shifts as the scythe reindexes for another swing.
From the time she was barely taller than the frenzied carnationscale currently trying to flay her from the fruitless protection the Korite offered, she's been groomed away from that path.
Not a mother.
Not a caregiver.
Not a creator.
A shield. Laughable.
A sword. Closer.
A destroyer. A killer.
The little Death that sometimes must find a way.
Even saving Chay from kidnap and an excruciating end involved her sheering him in twain. A clean, fast death, but death, nonetheless.
With another snarl, the maddened human(?) brings all of her force across the demon's form, trying to lay him open, to exult in the rush of his life leaving, the shudder of blade hewing bone, seeking a reckoning.
Alas, seeking isn't getting.
<OOC> Aya has no reason to hold back, now. "Dimensional Dervish flurry with ki. <OOC> Aya says, "Stunning Fist upon first. <OOC> Aya says, "Elbow Strike on second and third. (additional attacks at -5 if those hit)." <OOC> Aya says, "If either secondary hits, free Intimidate check. <OOC> Aya says, "If check successfully, any hit after renders him falt-footed against me - <OOC> Aya says, "- and allows Medusa's Wrath for two additional. <OOC> Aya says, "After all that, free action to will him dead." GAME: Aya rolls weapon0: (10)+25: 35 GAME: Aya rolls weapon0: (15)+25: 40 GAME: Aya rolls weapon0: (1)+25: 26 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aya rolls weapon0: (6)+25: 31 GAME: Aya rolls weapon0-5: (13)+25+-5: 33 GAME: Aya rolls weapon0-10: (11)+25+-10: 26 GAME: Aya rolls weapon0-15: (10)+25+-15: 20 <OOC> Aya says, "For followup elbow that hit.." GAME: Aya rolls weapon0-5: (20)+25+-5: 40 (THREAT) GAME: Aya rolls weapon0-5: (6)+25+-5: 26 (Not Confirmed) GAME: Aya rolls damage0: aliased to 2d10+6: (14)+6: 20 GAME: Aya rolls damage0: aliased to 2d10+6: (8)+6: 14 <OOC> Aya says, "The second, extra hit, is nonlethal, unfortunately." GAME: Zeke rolls 1d20+27: (1)+27: 28 (EPIC FAIL) <OOC> Elavdran dies from Quivering Palm attack.
He didn't agree. He's not afraid? Fine. Perhaps she never expected him to agree. Though neither do they fear him... unless a cold Aya and a frothing Braelnoir are somehow exemplars of the fearful? Aya thinks not. Thus, now the beatings can commence. Regardless of efficiency, there is something in the therapeutic nature, and Aya cannot stand and do nothing.
She vanishes to reappear behind him opposite Braelnoir to strike. "You-" Then alongside. "are-" Then at his other flank. "not-" Again. "feared." Another. "You-" Another. "have-" And yet another. "failed."
She has desired him gone since the moment she laid eyes upon him. Following the last, she truly wills it so. Why beat upon a dead thing, first?
Some rage yet remains within her, even if it is not expressed as vehemently as Braelnoir.
Their combined fury seems to be no never-mind to the demon, who merely blinks at the attacks, those that hit and those that miss with equal impassivity. He lifts a hand, snaps his fingers... And bursts into flames. The flames immolate him in a matter of moments, but he's... gone soundlessly into the rush of flames. Flecks of ash fall to the ground, but it's somewhat... unsatisfying. There's silence in the wake of his gruesome conflagration. Lily is gone - Vanished without a trace. All that remains of Eclavdran now in the realm of shadows is... nothing. Even the ashes are disappearing.
Going.
Gone.
The scythe comes around again as Aya is more successfully settling the Demon's hash. Still seeing only targets, the Korite brings the weapon in and around, only to scatter sparks like autumn leaves. The blade hits the 'ground' with enough force that several things in the raging woman's limbs pop.
Undeterred, breath heaving like a bellows between teeth gnashed in hate spraying frothing spittle with every exhalation, her gold slit eyes lift toward the only remaining soul in reach... and in madness.... her muscles bunch to wrench the weapon free.
Aya blinks as the flames spring and... consume him? Regardless of her wishes and will, this was unexpected. Is it illusion? Teleportation? She knows not enough about fiends (aside from the fact that they should be destroyed) to understand precisely what occurred. Still, were he simply vanishing... where was the grin? Or wink? Or gloating retort? Where is Lily?
Where he vanquished, a far more ... visceral reaction would have been far more clear, not to mention rewarding. Dismemberment. Evisceration. A great deal of blood. Even a little?
Stuck in a limbo of lack of information, her attention now turns to the only soul remaining. One who also seems to have yet to receive the required quantity of spilled blood. "Braelnoir! I am not your enemy. There is no time for this."
Because, against logic, a lack of definitive conclusion leaves Aya with... hope?
There isn't a lot left to kill, here it seems, but it seems set on talking.
There's an unsettling pop or two in her arm as she brings them up for another swing, drawing in a breath to energize the stroke.
It catches.
Mouth noises become words.
Words... words become concepts.
Her not-enemy is reminding her that the enemies are gone.
Gone...
Like Lily...
Like her strength....
With the return of reason to her comes, comes fatigue to her frame. Guilt, Helplessness, Shame, Grief in crushing volumes that, with the post rage exhaustion, hammers the woman to a sprawl, the grip of her scythe looser still for the evident dislocation of a couple of fingers.
Her chest expands fitfully.. shallow and slow.... but she can't summon enough strength to scream.
Few other words come to Aya's mind. The moment of focus that channeled rage... or sorrow, has passed. What remains of the her appearance of neutrality is held together only by focusing on next steps; the same cold objectivity that has served her well in the past. Yet even it won't last... and the flicker of hope(?) is not viable enough to sustain her otherwise.
"We must go."
She falls back to the words that were repeated many times in the past minutes, reaching for Braelnoir in attempt to lead her on. From here, in this quasi-realm, it may only be a few dozen steps to the temple district, but it is a destination, at the least.
In the back room of the Tarrace, Sabina is sitting vigil with Cryosanthia. Rupi arrives, to tell her of another demon in the Tarrace, that has vanished into the shadowlands through the kitchens. 'Bina isn't budging from her friend's side unless the fight spills back into the prime material.
Her partner leaves to get staff clear in case it does. She leaves behind a note, delivered by Halani, who warned that it's a time sensitive thing. Cryo must read it as soon as she can. It's tucked out of the way, nearby. It will be opened later.
It is already too late.
It's a message from Jinks: The content of the letter is a scribbling of a shadow with red eyes crushing a pink flower.
