DUNGEON ♛ LIEFSTE CARNAVAL

[boardmaster]

LIEFSTE CARNAVAL
20 JULY (DELPHINE) 2016

The Heroes chosen for this dungeon may reach Petrosian by any means they choose (by Airy with passports, by foot, by train, etc.) but they must travel to the area under suspicion by a smaller train, sponsored by VIPs; from there, they will take the fifteen mile, bumpy ride from the quaint town station to an open valley downstream. As you’re jostled around in your seat, a cheery announcement informs you that this train ride was sponsored by the illustrious Ryder, who felt it was necessary to express his gratitude to the Heroes and their admirable efforts that just barely saved his life last month. How thoughtful of him.

As the train chugs to a stop, beyond the forest and behind our Heroes, endless fields of gold seem to stretch out as far as the eye can see. What was once rich green grass has been painted yellow by the sweltering heat and clear summer sky. Few trees offer shelter from the sun, but most Heroes will have to provide their own shade as they wait for Secretary Verdoni and Ryder’s quick debriefing.

	Verdoni [ he looks so done with Ryder, but he has a job to do ] Every year, this field serves as the site of the famous Liefste Carnaval. For obvious reasons, we do not usually spend money to send our forces here, and if anyone would like to convince me otherwise, I shall have them entertain their fellow rapscallions at St. Amant.
	Ryder [ coughs ]
	Verdoni [ shut up ] However, due to financial constraints and missing people reports in the area, the carnival was canceled. And yet it is here. We have reason to believe that the reports of missing individuals tie into this carnival. Furthermore, our researchers say there is an abnormal amount of mana activity in the area. Given your previous experience with those, I don’t believe I need to elaborate any further. Your job is to investigate the carnival, find the truth behind it, and retrieve the dungeon core. As for your transportation, we’ve arranged a—
	Ryder Thank you, Secretary. Heroes. Out of gratitude for your heroic rescue, the least I could do was provide some incentive to fetch me a souvenir. This train, the Big Red, was built by one of Gammon’s finest mechanics. I had it shipped here under great expense so that you could enjoy the luxury of Gammon. I hope you Heroes are fortunate enough to visit my land soon. [ and as an afterthought: ] Ah, and rescue those people. Of course. By the way, this weather is absolutely dreadful. My skin was never this dry back in Cochrane. Guard A, Guard B, set up camp. We don’t want to faint from the heat later, do we?
	Verdoni [ why is this guy even here ] To answer the question on everyone’s minds: yes, there is a point to collecting these dungeon cores. Apart from restoring natural order to the land, we have reason to believe the dungeon cores may hold the key to finding a way home for you Heroes... Once we have proper confirmation, I will soon be able to make a formal announcement. Secondly, yes, Commander Lisbrand is still recovering from the Noir attack. We are hoping that she’ll be well enough to join us soon. For now, we do what we can.

Basic info on the dungeon can be found here. Dungeon mechanics can be found here. All OOC questions about the event may be directed to the thread below.

ONE ♙
Welcome to the Liefste Carnaval! Don’t be shy, come on in!

There’s nothing of note when you approach the carnival’s entrance. The hustle and bustle of any other fun-filled festival can be heard from the outside, complete with excited shouts and distant music. The smell of popcorn and other saccharine treats waft over and make your mouth water…

Before you satisfy your cravings, you should get a ticket. You’ll be greeted by a vaguely humanoid ticket seller entirely covered in confetti and pieces of torn tickets, with a rattling breath as if it caught a cold. It doesn’t speak and merely points to a sign that says 500 colle per person! What? Not everything comes for free. An item of similar value will also suffice.

If you refuse to pay and shoulder your way past it, you’ll find yourself shoved onto your back, face to face with the ticket seller himself. The bits of paper on its face rustle before it shuffles back over to the stand. Try again and you’ll find yourself getting further and further away from the entrance as a minor curse begins to settle upon you. You may come up with your own curse (e.g. loss of voice, speaking in gibberish). Thankfully, the curse doesn’t last long, but the message should be clear: pay for your ticket.

Once you have acquired your ticket, you are free to enter the carnival at your leisure. Should you turn around to ask the ticket seller for more information, it will vanish into thin air, leaving nothing but a small heap of confetti.

Walk past the first booth; a gaggle of happy children with balloons approach you with boxes of welcoming gifts. Though you might want to remember what all children are taught: don’t take candy from strangers.

MONSTER ♟ Wicht
Weak against Fire, Holy	Strong against None	Immune to Dark
A demon possessing a wooden puppet painted and carved in the form of a happy child with rosy cheeks. It offers BOXES OF CHOCOLATE to unsuspecting victims. Be warned: the chocolate will give you CHILLS AND MALAISE, and eating it will prompt fellow Wichts to link their hands together and circle around you as they chant RING AROUND THE ROSIE. This is not an innocent game, but a spell that accelerates the progression of the disease inside you, manifesting in RASHES, FEVER, SNEEZING AND COUGHING. The Wichts have no sympathy to spare; they’ll keep chanting ‘til you all fall down! Don’t feel like chocolate today? Oh, the Wichts insist. As they shove their boxes at you, their giggles turn into maniacal laughter. Their cherubic features melt into something sharper, harder, and you barely have time to react before they try to rip your heart out with their SHARP CLAWS. Catching Wichts is not easy. They use the wind magic of their BALLOONS to fly out of harm’s way, and the more mischievous ones will inhale the helium inside to release BANSHEE-LIKE SCREAMS that will stun and knock your party back. You can eliminate these demons by any means, but defeating these wooden puppets with HOLY MAGIC will banish the demonic spirit inside them, rendering them lifeless with the angelic features they originally had. These Petrosian-style puppets show really good craftsmanship! DROPS: Colorful Balloons, Gift Boxes, Petrosian Puppets, Wicht Claws, Mana-infused Wood

Suddenly, the cheerful and festive atmosphere vanishes. A flag flutters against a strong, abrupt gust of wind. Shadows seem to whisper and point and watch with gleaming, uncountable eyes. The paths are deserted and what was a vibrant place full of life is now anything but.


TWO ♙
In the chocolate box of the first Wicht you defeat, you will find a hand-drawn map of the carnival. It is extremely detailed and meticulously labeled with every ride, shop, and sideshow. Does this cartographer have a perfectionist streak? There’s a crudely-painted red heart circling one attraction in particular: the tunnel of love. But from the way the color dried, you’re starting to think that’s not paint…

Before you reach the tunnel of love, you have to pass through game stalls and the haunted house. Move quickly; those familiar Wicht giggles are approaching and they will not take no for an answer. Hide behind stalls or large crates to avoid them. Perhaps Rooks or Illusion Queens can cover the party’s tracks!

If you choose to hide behind stalls and crates, a cold draft might hit your back, send a shiver down your spine and make you whirl around to confront—no one. But you could have sworn you saw a shadow in the corner of your eye… Before you can think, something too close for comfort bursts into hysterical laughter, attracting the attention of the Wichts and forcing you to abandon your shelter.

However, Wichts can’t touch you if you join in the fun, and the carnival offers a variety of games to play, from dime pitch games to shooting galleries. A man next to a strongman game might even holler at you to step right up and test your strength. Neither firearms, ammo or hammers will be provided, but you’re Heroes, right? Improvise! Win, and you’ll be greeted by...

MONSTER ♟ Steun
Weak against Holy	Strong against Dark	Immune to None
Carnival staff manning the stalls with smiles that will haunt your nightmares. People who win their games infuriate them! Their weapon of choice depends on where you find them. Food vendors will be eager to hurl BOILING OIL or throw an entire GRILL at your face, while those at the shooting galleries might come at you with FIREARMS—real ones! But sometimes, a bullet won’t kill you. Instead, it will make you smell like cotton candy. It will also cast CHARM MAGIC on you, making your party members fall in love with you. Only strong willpower can break the spell… or you know, a good, old-fashioned kiss. Staff members may also toss stuffed toys at you, but these cute and cuddly things aren’t a gift of goodwill. They’re enchanted grenades that explode into heart-shaped confetti and release a gas that will make you LAUGH UNCONTROLLABLY for a good five minutes. DROPS: Assorted Guns and Bullets, Carnival Food Items, Stuffed Toys, Carnival Staff Jacket

Glad that’s over! Unfortunately, this doesn’t seem to be the last area you needed to traverse. Checking the map again reveals that the haunted house is up next. But that shouldn’t be a big deal; you can usually avoid those by simply walking past, right?

Wrong. As you enter the area, you’ll soon realize that the roads around the house are clogged up by cotton candy and popcorn which might serve as convenient snacks to replenish your mana. The only free path leads to the front door.


THREE ♙
The floorboards creak as your party enters the haunted house. A flash of lightning preceding a crack of thunder reveals a large, arachnid leg. Clicking noises of pincers are the only warnings Heroes get before your party is grabbed and hauled upwards, one by one. Tough strings like silk trap your bodies in a tight cocoon that dangles from the ceiling. Resistance is futile, as struggling will damage your clothes. Don’t worry about flashing anyone; the spider is more than happy to cover your bare areas with more form-hugging strings. The spider silk seems to be enchanted, since captured Heroes cannot escape on their own. You must help them to proceed!

As the spider works on hauling its prey upwards, the others must rescue their comrade before it’s too late! Unfortunately, your entrance has awoken a sudden rush of monsters, and the blood and drool they’re spewing make it hard to believe they’re in costume. Hobbling and groaning zombies, scarecrows and half molten blobs or something in between are eager to have you for dinner themselves. The enemies themselves are not particularly dangerous; it’s their sheer number and the furniture they’ve knocked over which make this fight a pain in the neck. Kick and bat and suplex your way through the enemy ranks until you reach the rickety stairs.

Climbing with care, you finally make your way to the second floor. There is a spider lurking in a corner...

MONSTER ♟ Heer Spinnekop
Weak against Water	Strong against Earth, Wind	Immune to Lightning
“I must say, that was very rude of you. No one has ever turned down an invitation to my tea parties.” A calm and chipper tea-sipping, monocle-wearing SPIDER too big to fit through the front door. The wealthy Lord Spinnekop studied in Gammon for a time and the accent has stuck with him ever since. Despite his manners, he isn’t too pleased to have his snack stolen from under its nose. What’s he going to dunk in his tea cup now? So he’ll try to trap the Heroes once more with his SILK THREADS, please and thank you. His threads will wrap around you in patterns that bind and appeal to the senses. “Ooh, could you do that again? It makes my spinneret tingle!” For some reason, LIGHTNING MAGIC doesn’t work against the monstrous spider. But continue to refuse him and he’ll splash piping hot Gammonian Breakfast tea at your face… or shirt. Let’s hope you didn’t wear something thin and white. As the battle goes on, he’ll crawl from corner to corner, and soon, you’ll notice a method to his madness: he’s been weaving a HUGE, STICKY WEB for you all! “No, no, you’ve got it all wrong. I’ll wash you down—after I chew and swallow!” Heroes he likes, he’ll trap in his web and eat. Heroes he doesn’t? He’ll toss them in a giant KETTLE of water he’s been boiling in the kitchen! How does Heroic tea sound? However, chatting with the spider (and boy, does he love to chat) will reveal that despite growing up in the lowlands of Petrosian and living in rainy Gammon, he detests water. WATER MAGIC might just wash the spider out! DROPS: Fancy Tea Set, Top Hat, Monocle, Gentleman’s Gloves, Silk Threads

You’ve had it with this @#$%ing spider in this @#%$ing haunted house! Goodbye and good riddance. The doors upstairs seem to lead to nowhere so you’ll have to climb through the open hatch in the ceiling to exit. On the roof, you can finally survey the entire dungeon, but don’t linger for too long. Otherwise, you’ll be compelled to jump off the roof!

Hope you’re not afraid of heights, because the only way to advance to the tunnel of love is by jumping from roof to roof.


FOUR ♙
Finally, the infamous tunnel of love rests before you in all its glittery, pink glory. Rose petals coat the sign and flower chains hang from the tunnel ceiling. Echoes of sensual moans can be heard from the outside, but there’s no turning back. Once you’ve secured yourself a swan boat, you’re in for quite the joyride. The dulcet tones of a romantic serenade give you something else to focus on other than the disturbingly intimate shadows on the walls, but even the music stops every now and then to amplify the voices further in.

Then all of a sudden, the water of the tunnel starts flowing in the other direction. Due to the shape of the boat, Heroes get doused in cold water, and that’s the least of your problems. More Steuns will come out of the woodwork and take potshots at the Heroes with their guns. Talk about wet and wild! The tunnel’s heart-shaped props might also come to life and attempt to drown Heroes. Why not? It’s not like couples ever want to leave.

After several merry minutes, the water will be drained out completely. Who doesn’t enjoy being stranded in the middle of enemy territory? As you walk down the tunnel, there’s a point that diverges into several paths. Following the path that smells like roses will appear to put you on the right track, but leads to a dead end. Looking around, you’ll find a raised, heart-shaped platform with graffiti that says, NOW DO IT! ❤

That’s awfully specific. Considering where you are, you probably meet the riddle with mild surprise. Maybe if you try to kiss someone, you’ll be able to advance! But actually, if you wait long enough, a simple hug might yet suffice.

Once the riddle has been satisfied, the wall opens to reveal the inside of a circus tent. Vacant bleachers surround the stage, and though they are empty, deafening cheers seem to come from people filling the seats. Without warning, all the lights go out, save for a single spotlight...

BOSS ♟ Y. U. Lyon the Spelleider and his Circus
Weak against None	Strong against Fire	Immune to Dark, Status Effects
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! Welcome to the best show in the world! I’ve travelled the seven seas, so I should know.” An outstanding and prolific RINGMASTER who recently fell out of the limelight. After some soul searching, Ser Lyon’s back with a bigger and better show that’ll knock everyone’s socks off! Eat your heart out, Cirque du Etoile. As the leader of this circus, he has the fully loyalty of his performers—and pets. With a crack of his whip, he summons large, maned LIONS that growl as they bare their sharp, white fangs. They attack the Heroes on his orders. Don’t let the large felines jump through those flaming hoops, as these will ENGULF THEM IN FIRE, too! Use WATER to put the flames out. ”Such teamwork… Geluk and I were the same. Why am I thinking about him at a time like this? For our next act…!” Should you defeat his precious lions, he will send out his beloved CIRCUS PERFORMERS: acrobats that can kick your butt, contortionists that can bend themselves twice over as they lock you in a CHOKEHOLD, unicycle-riding jugglers waiting for the right moment to toss you a KNIFE or MOLOTOV COCKTAIL, and tightrope walkers ready to DROP DEADLY SPEARS onto unsuspecting Heroes. You might even get tackled by the occasional cannonball man and GET LAUNCHED OUT OF THE TENT with him! Circus performers of all kinds will try to steal the show, and your imagination’s the limit. Unlike the ringmaster, these people are WEAK TO STATUS EFFECTS. ”He told me to meet him during the Festivale de la Ceinturonne, but I had a show that night. I couldn’t abandon my circus! That was years ago… I haven’t heard from him since. I wonder what would have happened… if I had gone to see him… If I had gone to see him…!” Although his stars are gone, the show must go on. As the drum rolls, the lone Ser Lyon reaches inside his mouth to pull out a sharp SWORD with a flourish. How long has that been in there? Not important. Forget about admiring his top-notch swordsmanship, too—he’s here to kill! Even as you keep your distance, you can’t escape him when he strikes you with his WHIP and singes your skin with his FIRE-BREATHING SKILLS. From time to time, he pulls MAGICAL BIRDS out of his coat to distract Heroes. They will disappear the moment you strike them. ”Bravo, bravo. The circus is my life, but… your teamwork has reminded me of something far more important. Still… we put on a good show, didn’t we?” Before his last breath, he pulls a lovespur out of thin air. It was his closest friend’s favorite magic trick. A DUNGEON CORE rises from his chest, and he ends the show with an elegant bow and a smile. DROPS: Ringmaster Staff, Ringmaster Coat, Lion Mane, Juggling Balls, Sword, Hoop, Balance Pole, Torches

Once Y. U. Lyon the Spelleider and his lackeys have been defeated, the phantom cheering cuts off. The bleachers are suddenly occupied by the missing Petrosians, exhausted and confused as to how they ended up here. The dungeon magic appears to have compelled them to act the way they did. Reassure them, help them down from the bleachers and make absolutely sure you leave no one behind.

Soon, the carnival gates open. The show is over and it’s time for everyone to go home.


FIVE ♙
Once you step out of the gates, there’s a flash of light and a final pop of confetti. The next time you blink, you’ll find yourself in a campsite. It seems like Ryder kept his word and set up a rest stop for everyone exiting the dungeon. You’re back in one piece and the area seems to be back to normal as well. Relieved murmurs spring up from the rescued Petrosians who are quick to thank the Heroes profusely before they are whisked away by Blanc’s medics for a check-up.

Verdoni Good work, Heroes. What you do with the dungeon cores is your business alone, but all efforts to assist us in assessing them will be appreciated. That includes providing us with said dungeon cores, of course. I will report our findings as soon as we can. Thank you.

As he leaves, he catches the sight of Ryder and clicks his tongue. That Gammonian is making good use of his human footrest again. Some things never change.

Now that Heroes have left the dungeon, they are free to do whatever they want to. Rest in the tents? Fill your rumbling tummies? Treat injuries? It’s up to them!

Comments

Haunted House! 👻

[sunderings]

[ Their party is funneled into a haunted house between embankments of popcorn and spun-sugar sweets, the colorful heaps of blue, yellow, and pink by far the least ominous oddity of Liefste. Here, the King himself sees fit to portion off a section of cotton candy, giving the carnaval confection a home beside the biscuits and juice-boxes in the satchel at his side with a certain s o m e o n e in mind...! But then, of course, there is the matter of the haunted house itself, and as the third leg of their journey, Sion expects only to be greeted by combat once inside. Though somehow yet, his hypervigilance is in vain, and he can only hope that his two companions do not heed his previous bid to stay close as the floorboards creaked underfoot for—

(Gone, he is, in the blink of an eye.)

—he is caught as lightning strikes and thunder rumbles (from within the house itself?), seized by something which pulls him straight from his feet (strong, that is what his opponent is), a monster which boasts clicking and clacking pincers and eight black as onyx eyes, its arachnid stridulation rising above the King's sharp intake of breath as his legs are bound in the beginnings of a cocoon, silken webbing robbing him of motion but not of fight.

La Vista's wings effloresce from his back, their holy magic searing and ablaze, a shock of gold which inspires a brief recoiling in the creature set upon him...!

And leaves him as a firefly caught in a spider's web, the light of his wings flaring brightly enough to illuminate the room below as he attempts to fly, resisting the pull to the high ceiling above. ]

Be on your guard! [ —he calls, voice resonant with the calm of command despite the (damnable) present circumstance. ] I am all right, however...

[ A new enemy approaches, and his friends may not be for much longer. ]

[likethelight]

[ Sion is plucked from them not just in a sudden bolt of lightning and ominous thunder, but a rain of splintered wood from as the giant spider above pierces through it and begins to hoist him up.

Spider??!

He has no protective cloak of Crown Clown, but Allen will instinctively throw his arm out to shield Lux from the debris, eyes to their friend dangling helpless above. ] Sion!

[ The Fool is in his hand a moment later, the dim area around them lit up briefly by the giant blade's luminescence. ]

Hold on, we'll get you— [ ...?

He trails off, sounds from the edges of the room becoming louder. Moans. Wood snapping as a great many things begin to rush toward him and Lux. Things humanoid and not. Creatures oozing blood and bodily fluids stumbling at them alarmingly quickly for such shambling things. ]

—down? [ Crap. ]

[rememberher]

[ This was all too convenient. There were too many blind spots here, too many places where they could be ambushed by any number and manner of monster. But there was something else...

It was her turn to be on edge. She hated these types of places. Ghosts and things that went bump in the night were hardly fairy tales where she was from, those that called the Shadow Isles their home, were real, and prayed upon the overconfident, the nonbelievers.

Her brain on high alert, it was enough of a distraction for her from a sudden arachnid abduction. Hearing the floor creak and bow suddenly, she stops, crouching, her staff held parallel to help shield her (not that that would help her much anymore, not here). Looking up, past Allen's protective arm, her eyes widen.

...Oh Gods.

Righting herself, she pointed her staff upward, the larger crystal end flaring to life, energy gathering at the tip. Her eyes steely (don't think about what was falling around them, Lux...) she began to quickly, silently, incant. ]

Fosopye!

[ Light energy exploding from the end of her staff like shards from shattered mirror, they flew upward, aimed at the web above them. They could worry about their new friend after Sion was down. Hopefully their new spider friend would be polite enough to wait. ]

1/2

[sunderings]

[ This is fine.

There is a giant (...monocle-wearing...) spider bent on reeling him in, its spinnerets working double-time to strengthen its casting line, reinforcing the threads until the silken twine becomes a cable, retracting with so great a force that its pull can no longer be offset by La Vista's wings, and Sion...! Sion is hauled to the webbing above, held fast among other cocoons (full-bodied and ripped open by a monster eager to devour) and the withered remains of those once trapped inside them. ]

Do not worry about me—! [ The King is quick to call, the Fool's light catching his eye from below. While he's a too-spectacular view of a spider's snapping, segmented chelicerae, his friends are beset with a nightmare's menagerie of creatures which burst forth from hollows in the slow-rotting wood of the walls and floor, and their safety is...

(Allen, Luxanna...!)

...worth more than his own.

Holy magic leaps to his hands, raw energy given shape with both gesture and will, set first upon the threads which bind his legs, now up to the thighs, only to find it remarkably ineffective—the silk does not split, it does not fray: instead, it seems only to diffuse his light, casting it off as though it were water.

(So that is how it is, then—the spider will have to be the first to go. But no matter, and truth be told... that thing which Sion both is and isn't has been hungry since their company's first encounter with the Wicht. He smiles, head lolling to the side, eyes taking on a predatory glint. By far, he is the bigger monster here, and this spider...)

There is a surge of magic, a beam of light which falls upon the spider's web like shards of mirrored glass—Luxanna—and for an instant, Sion is possessed of only one thought: how very brilliant his companions are, shining bright between the Lady's spell and Allen's manablade.

Then: he breathes out, the remnants of the magic coalesced at his fingertips cast upon the spider as he is freed, dipping into the briefest of falls broken by the the blades of light at his back unfurling into their fullest span. If he is to incant a spell, he must remain still, and so he hovers in the air above as the spiders withdraw and the creatures below advance, closing in only to fall upon— ]

What I seek is the swordveil!

[ —a great dome of barrier comprised entirely of swords of light, its many blades lancing through those monsters at the forefront of the horde, their bodies thrust farther and farther upon the holy magic as more creatures creep in from places still hidden from sight. ]

2/2

[sunderings]

[ But now that Sion is down and shields are up, perhaps it is time to take a breather...?

The King descends into the safety of his own magic, maintaining the spell by feeding it his mana (after all, everything does need to eat...!), his still-bound legs touching lightly to the ground before he sets about maintaining a rather precarious balance, decidedly feeling rather like one of Capablanca's mermaids, though bereft of fins and shimmering scales. ]

Are you two all right?

Re: 2/2

[likethelight]

[ The King's timing with the shield couldn't be better, as Allen had braced himself between Lux and part of the oncoming hoard, his sword at the ready and raised as shield and blade both, but as they were coming from all sides he wasn't sure yet how he was going to best deal with them without leaving them open on at least one side.

It's startling as the barrier of glinting, whirling blades springs up around them, and Allen's attention turns back upwards as the barrier gives and Sion—unharmed it seems—awkwardly alights. ]

Sion! [ Relief as he appears from above; Lux did it then. ]

We are now. [ And given they seem safe behind the barrier for the moment, Allen drops to one knee and reaches for the silk that binds the other's legs still. So that he might use the clawed fingertips of his gauntlet to tear the sticky webbing aside as his sword is too large to do so comfortably.

He's quick and efficient about it. Funny, it's like he's used to working with a clawed hand... ]

But the barrier— [ How long will it hold? Not long enough certainly, but by how Allen redoubles the grip on The Fool once he's freed the other and begins to stand again with his jaw beginning to set—it's a rhetorical sort of thing. His eyes are for the creatures outside. They'll need to fight their way past that and this, like the Wichts, is something he feels called to.

( It's not quite the stirring of blood the presence of an akuma would incite, the needing to exist for in order to destroy (save). But it's an itch and a tug. Being possessed just a little bit by something not entirely human. )

They're like mindless zombies. Moans most unpleasant and unsettling to hear when one considers it's from so many bodies falling upon blades and impaling themselves there, only to continue to struggle to get within past the swords to the heroes they shelter. And more of them lurching out from the shadows of this place, crawling over wood and shattered mirror...

Allen turns to Sion with more purpose this time, though he addresses him and Lux both. ]

It's okay, please let me pass through. [ Softly spoken but with the gravity of certainty. It's okay; he actually has an idea now, really. ]

We can't stay here like this.

[rememberher]

[ "Do not worry about me—!" ]

Now isn't the time to be self-sacrificing!

[ Sorry, Sion, but did you really think that they were going to leave you alone like that? She knew what happened when someone found themselves pulled into a spider's web, and Lux would have none of that! (This one didn't seem to be poisonous, like the monstrous spider woman she had heard tell of, thankfully.) Although she likely should have kept that little bit to herself, whoops. Oh well, too late now.

Fosopye tearing through the cable-like webbing ensnaring the Hero King, the Queen began to ready another spell. She did not give herself time to consider that he wouldn't be freed, confident in the incantation that she had taken and modified, and rightfully so. He descends, coming back to them and raising a barrier to protect them. Her incantation falls away as she lets out a sigh of relief.

Thank goodness, that was a bit too close. Not that she would ever admit it. ]

Allen...

[ Among the mindless groans of agony and despair, his conviction was stirring and, nodding toward him, Lux twirled her staff once before slipping it back into its holster on her back. Her bracelet flared, drawing in what little light that existed around it. ]

I'll give you a diversion then. Be careful.

[ Dropping to her knees, letting one hand rest over the largest gem on her weapon, drawing that gathered light out into her hand, weaving between her fingers before she flicked it away like water on her hand, hitting the ground and pooling in small, prismatic droplets. Closing her eyes gently, she began to concentrate, light and mana fled from her, traveling through the cracks in the floorboards before rising up behind a bit of cover and coalescing into humanoid form. An illusion. One that, from a distance, looked shockingly similar to him.

She saw how he fought. She would just have to trust her memory and hope she could mimic his movements. She didn't need to attack the thing, just serve as a distraction. Opening her eyes, brow furrowed in focus, Lux gave him a gentle nod. She was ready when he was. ]

[sunderings]

[ Swordveil, it is only a mimicry of what the Hero King had once been able to do, the barrier's many blades ever-shifting, piercing the foes which readily fell upon them only to align anew. Like clockwork, those creatures—akin to the dead who walked still—with the great misfortune of coming into contact with the barrier for long became undone, whether subject to the swords or to the holy magic which shaped them, the light corrosive and harsh, flesh-sloughing and searing to all agents of the demonic. To this spell, there is no glimmer, no after-image, no warmth, only the cold radiance of the ever-distant heavens above.

The barrier will hold for as long as it needs to, providing shelter for the moments when Allen drops to one knee, freeing the King from his bonds, and the seconds thereafter when Sion murmurs his thanks with a small bow of his head, bending with the range of motion newly returned to him so that he might offer the younger man a hand in turn, offering his assistance with a swift rise to the feet.

And then, of course, it is Allen who asks of him safe passage through—no, they cannot linger here, where there is no end to the droves of their enemies, the King's own mana drained into keeping them at bay—and it is Allen who hasn't the slightest intention of relaying to his party what it is he means to do.

But...

Sion steps forward, cobwebs yet clinging to his heels, to the very center of the swordveil as Luxanna calls upon her weapon, forming the diversion-to-be with a clever manipulation of mana and light, both elements converging to shape an illusion of her own design: Allen in a glimmering silhouette, a doppelganger to bait the horde which presses in from all sides.

(This is... what having faith in another feels like.)

Raising his hands, palms held vertical to the left and right, he partitions the barrier, creating the beginnings of twin exits, one for the exorcist himself, and another for his mirrored image. ]

Let Luxanna and I know how best to aid you— [ Ah? Perhaps it shows, how very much Sion loathes being left in the dark. ] —and if your endeavor should bode ill, Allen...

You'll have less than five seconds before I come after you myself. [ His voice softens, after that, his gaze shifting from Allen so that he might catch Luxanna's eyes, for he hasn't yet been able to express his thanks for her split-second decision to cut him down from the spider's webbing with her light, only to... admonish him, in a way which reminded him terribly of another Lady, whose favour he carries close to his heart. ] As a very wise someone just reminded me... now is hardly the time to be self-sacrificing.

[ Then...

The barrier parts, swords giving way, and Sion is swift in drawing Guiding Light from its place at his back in order to provide a warm (disastrous) welcome to any creatures which might take the chance to worm their way inside. ]

Go—!

1/2

[likethelight]

[ Ah...! It's in some amazement that Allen regards the clone of himself that Lux has created. Incredible... and not unlike how Fou would disguise herself perhaps? Except that, when he raises his hand towards the shimmering silhouette, it raises its own opposite hand. Wiggles his fingers? So does it. Like a mirror image then...

But he turns to Sion when his concern begins to bubble like that and has to smile gently, a little apologetically. Ah, Sion, you're not quite so composed as you usually are right now... ] Mn.

Thank you. [ Both of you. And the Exorcist begins to step backwards towards the door that's about to open, his illusionary double moving in twain. ]

Just.. [ Go—!

And go Allen does, boots digging against old and rotting wood as he gains the momentum necessary to slam his shoulder against and bodycheck the nearest monster aside. Corpses, or badly costumed men who weren't men any longer meant to look like zombies that with this place have become thusly so. Men made of molding straw, towers of gellatinous ooze that no longer resemble anything human whatsoever...

And he plows headlong into them with his final words shouted over his shoulder. ]

—be ready! [ Because in and about, knocking some over like bowling pins and others struck down by the wide luminescent sweep of The Fool, Allen weaves his way through the horde that just seems to keep coming. To get their attention, to draw them away from the barrier. They're far too many for him of course, that wasn't his intention. But like this...

(Like this he keeps catching glimpses of something above them through cracks in the floorboards. A glint like glasses reflecting, chittering of something terribly large, and the hairy leg of a massive spider that is quite intent on tracking his motions with far more intelligence than the creatures down here.)

..like this he can keep pulling them all together, half on him and half on the woven clone of light and mana weaving its own way around the other side of the room with its own train of rabid monsters.

Until, well... ]

2/2

[likethelight]

[ Until one of the glops doesn't seem to take kindly to being knocked aside and instead just... kind of sucks Allen's shoulder into itself so that the Exorcist is stuck there. Jello-like ooze that's impossible to try and pull from no matter how he tries to yank away.

It's more frustrating that anything. Gross. ] Ahhh, [ mou ] really...?!

[ That thread of silk from above is going to come at any moment probably now that his movements are becoming impeded. There's no time, even when he twists around and nearly upside down to both kick at its head and cleave his sword clean through to free himself, because the horde he'd collected is almost upon him again. And it's a lot of them now.

Still with a fair amount of goo clinging to him, Allen changes direction and makes a break for his shadow of light. All together now...

He brings two fingers to his lips, his armored left hand with Judgement, and begins to focus, not for the first time being grateful for the ability to stay mobile and do this. ]

Just because you think you can keep throwing everything at us... [ It's tight because half intending to, half not, all his irritation for the enemy above that's sniping at them and seems to be puppeting this affair is being woven in with his words. Weaving your mana in with your vocal chords, weaving yourself into what you say—he's lucky he saw Caren use it, even if she did it to far different effect. Or for a lot of the things she told him about rook abilities. Righteous indignation and unforgiving, brilliant conviction that takes form as an ethereal white mana begins to collect around the tips of Judgement's armored fingertips and wraps up his arm and around his shoulders.

It works the creatures around him into nearly as frenzy as if hearing a call suddenly, they all turn suddenly to the rook and begin to rush him.

( Ah Lux, he's going to trust you—hope that he hasn't scared you and Sion too badly—and hope that you've picked up what he wants to do and have led his illusionary double to this point as well to bring everyone together. )

Because the Exorcist the instant comes together with his other self, he's going to take The Fool in hand with Judgement both and raise them over his head. ]

—don't just sit up there and treat people so lightly!! [ And with every ounce of his own gravity, he slams the sword into the ground, burying it within the decaying floor. And in an explosion of radiance—

...it implodes. Sucks everything inward in a great vacuum pull. All the shambling bodies pulled off their own feet by the pull as Allen himself even braces himself and holds on for dear life to his sword. Like a great shockwave, the added burst from mana coursing through Judgement briefly dazing the creatures, as simple as they are.

( Sion and Lux at least, they should be far enough away and safe behind the barrier. He'll have to hope that. It's not like he's been able to practice quite this before. )

He can't even breath right now, let alone speak in the vacuum as it begins to wink out, but now!!! He'll move out of the way in a second but—

But he takes a sudden breath as soon as he finds he can and rips his sword free, even if he's still half buried in bodies at the moment. ]

—now!

[rememberher]

[ Five seconds was far too generous, she thought to herself, allowing herself a brief division of concentration. No, she would not give him such a large window—five seconds was more than enough time to overwhelm even the strongest warrior, and turn the tide of battle.

But she had other things to focus on. Her illusion was not completely autonomous, and would need to rely on her own quick reflexes and ability to read the battlefield, to read his movements. Admittedly, she was a bit worried about that, seeing how unpredictable he could be first-hand. But there was no room for hesitance or second-guessing here.

It was time to dance.

At first, his movements were easy to follow, and his doppelgänger moving in kind, it always seemed to dodge just at the right moment—a pivot to the right, a twist to the left, sliding underneath its foe with ease—its attacks never quite connecting. She had to keep the illusion of reality, a delicate balancing act that, truthfully, she had not practiced nearly enough.

It was enough to fool some of his minions, but...

It all happens so quickly that Lux has a hard time keeping up. One of their attacks connects, and the exorcist is pinned (gooped?) with both Herr and his minions bearing down on him. Nearly breaking her concentration, her brow creases deeper, as she forced herself to stay in that spot, to keep projecting, to keep his doppelgänger moving. To keep the rest of the nest from descending upon him.

A hand clenched at her side, she bit the inside of her lip, drawing in a deep breath, a bead of sweat running down her brow. Just a little longer. He could get out of this. He had to, or else he would...

And then just as quickly as he was ensnared, the man was free again, and running toward her illusion. Gathering them all together into one place. But why..?

("So you can change the push and pull of an object...")

He wouldn't...

Her eyes widening in realization of what he was doing (you planned this all along, didn't you?!), her illusion disappeared in a shimmer of light, just as his sword slammed into the ground. ]

Sion, take it down now!

[ Grabbing her staff, she did not wait for a confirmation from the King, rushing in, her blood running hot. Oh, he was going to hear about this when they were done.

She may not have been a Rook, blessed with the power of amplification, but her voice carried over the sound of battle: ]

Dammit Allen, this wasn't what I had in mind! MOVE!

[ Both crystalline ends of her staff igniting with light, she began twirling it with all the fury and frustration of a woman whose perfectly laid plans had been torn apart, bolts of light flying at one target: That swirling vacuum in front of her. A dance of anger and desperation, hoping, praying that it was enough, and that he managed to make it out all right.

It wouldn't do for her to kill him there. No. That was for later.

If her mana held out, that is.

Thankful that her magic did not have to be precise to hit its target, her bolts were beginning to stray slightly, and her movements became a bit less fluid. She wouldn't be able to keep this up for long. ]

1/2

[sunderings]

[ Whose concern is bubbling? Bubbling, as though it were something sweet, effervescent and bright (like the rest of him, really, between the sparkles incandescence which limns from his skin and the unworldly gleam of his eyes), when in reality... it runs cold, and too-suddenly Sion is the Hero King who Luxanna first made introductions with, a man fathomless and poised amid air thick with the light of magic and crackling energy, the calm at the center of the storm which had crashed upon Graupera's coast.

Allen bids them thank you and farewell, Luxanna makes to dance, and for the briefest of moments, Sion allows for his eyes to fall closed, silvered lashes fanning dark against his cheeks as he attunes his focus to the bright white of the exorcist's mana (cleansing), the prismatic hues of the Lady's own (hope), and the vast hollows of the horde (vacuous and adrone and still so very sad in their lack of humanity).

He does not open his eyes until the moment when Guiding Light meets with the bleeding maw of one such fiend, the gilded steel singing in a merciless drive of motion that leaves nothing left of the creature's head, the corpse dropping at the King's feet as he swings the sword clean. They are his, the monsters which fail to follow the exorcist's call, and those who slip away from the Lady's trick of the light, their bodies funneling through the gaps in the barrier which Sion rends open to provide Luxanna with a proper, panoramic view. Where he might follow Allen's mana signature with his mind's eye, ever-aware of feints and bends borne of the Rook's wayward acrobatic grace, Luxanna will need to keep her eyes fixed upon a target which, by nature, can be neither static nor still, and so...

The King watches all that she cannot, stitching openings only to weave them shut (to ward against a glob of ichor and ooze), dismantling all opponents who pass through in order to protect both his Queen and Rook, forming a near-rhythm until—

Luxanna cries out.

All which surrounds them seems to pulse and draw back in anticipation of the Rook's magic, the manipulation of gravity which the King has both witnessed and felt many a time before (it is as though the room, dark and dank, has taken a great breath when Allen makes to plunge the Fool into the flooring), and that is why...

(He's sorry, Luxanna, but he'll not dispel the entirety of the barrier, no more than he'll allow for you to disappear into the maelstrom of Allen's making.)

...a crescent of the swordveil is left to stand as bulwark against the vacuum's pull, the King's hands (freed, now that Guiding Light has been returned to its place at his back) fall upon Luxanna's shoulders, holding her fast, La Vista's wings offsetting the sweep of Allen's magic as they'd once countervailed a spider's draw.

It is time then, isn't it? Now, as Luxanna unleashes her fury upon those monstrosities suspended in vacuum, Sion's fingers curling in a gentle squeeze (he is all right, my Lady), calm where she is is a tempest (...a calm which cracks, just a little, as her voice echoes in his ears, her shocking use of language sending him inwardly reeling—oh my stars).

Five seconds or less, he'd thought, and it is not until a hundred-some have passed until he finds need to intone his spell—deliver him—its words resonating as wind magic gathers about Allen (the exorcist who is gone from his sight, but whose mana distinctly flickers and flares just out of harm's way when the King closes his eyes), coiling in bright, protective arcs as it sees the younger man lifted and safely held well above the collapse of the floor.

The collapse which both King and Queen alike must take care not to fall victim to. With the soft words of an apology upon his lips (though he has carried her in his arms once before, his grip had been nothing like this...!), he shifts, an arm looping about Luxanna's waist as he bids her to please hold on tight as he takes off in a burst of holy light. His wings blaze brightly, propelling them toward their comrade with speed amplified by the trio of blessing he'd renewed before setting foot in the haunted house, surging forth to grab Allen by the scruff of his uniform before....! ]

2/2

[sunderings]

[ They sail into the mouth of a stairwell which had been so clearly illuminated by their plethora of holy magic and light that it seems foolish, in hindsight, that the trio had ever missed it to begin with. And it is precisely halfway up the stairs that La Vista's wings flicker once, then twice, before dissipating into a sea of aetherous filaments, golden and bright, which curl and dissolve away into the dark (for how long had Sion kept the weapon activated in tandem with both barrier and Guiding Light...?) for the King can no longer has mana enough to sustain them.

And lo: they fall.

(Will the stairs support their weight...? Will anyone lose an eye to Sion's stiletto heel? Only time will tell...!) ]

1/3

[likethelight]

[ Waahhhh—he didn't mean for... the floor...

(Ah well, this building did appear quite rickety...) ]

?! [ Allen would jerk in surprise at being caught up in the King's protective updraft, save for the fact his feet are no longer touching anything with which to have traction against. Because for a moment he's not sure what happened (except aaaahh—phew, that'd be a long fall..), until he's snagged by the collar of his coat and (choked!!! choking!!) being dragged along.

(His surprise is also because for a moment there, watching those corpses fall into the abyss, he has to wonder what will happen to them. Do they have souls? The light of his blade, holy—does the purification work like Innocence does if they do? The sudden question, seeing them drop from sight, makes his stomach twist.)

His head falls back and he breaths easier then, eyes widening to look up and see the resplendent breadth of La Vista's wings. ]

Sion! Lux! [ Surprise but relief. They were still alright—! And flying, apparently. Which does make Allen's expression still for a moment and he goes quiet, trying to discern if there is strain in the King's face then. Sion—is that alright? And Lux— ]

2/3

[likethelight]

...

[ Lux has a murderous vibe coming from her...

"Dammit Allen—"

...crap. ]

3/3

[likethelight]

[ Later. ]

!! [ When they plunge suddenly Allen, still running high on adrenaline, drops The Fool's activation and, twisting, will latch onto Sion's wrist that's kept him aloft. (Can't risk the fabric tearing...) And because—!

Because he uses it to try to wrench himself around to get under them both and absorb the worst of the impact, head bowed and trying to half-catch the both of them. He's a Rook. He can take it. And even if he couldn't he'd be moved to anyway because of the kind of person he is—and it's partly his fault anyway. But Rook or not and especially a battered one, absorbing the impact crushes the air out of lungs with a pained groan. Not before though, not before—

—not before throwing his left arm out and digging the claws of it into the wood of the staircase as the momentum starts to send them tumbling downward. Not like his sword... that'd be bad... but to pull them to an abrupt stop before they fall the rest of the way down into the void he'd inadvertently opened up.

(The staircase groans as well and shakes from impact, but holds true.)

Allen though—Allen tries to suck in his breath again and finds that a lot harder than it should be. But he's going to hold onto them both with however he was able to grab on with his right arm and won't let go. Will absolutely not let go, even if his head is swimming to the point where he doesn't even realize he's not really seeing the other two (or anything). Just focusing on the flicker of Lux and Sion's presence—the trace of their mana—and finding relief in that. ]

Are... you...

[ He's trembling and he's not quite sure why. Chest rise and fall to little (burning) effect. ]

—both of you... alright?

[1/2]

[rememberher]

[ And all at once, he was the strong, regal patriarch worthy of his namesake. Gleaming brightly in the darkness, his Guiding Light keeping her safe whenever she was, admittedly, far too demanding, or when Allen moved out of immediate view.

(Ah, this is what it felt like to have complete faith in your comrades' abilities.)

But if Sion was not going to let her through, then he would need to split that barrier enough to let her bolts fly. He did, however, get a look of worried protest from the younger blond, a small play of betrayal catching her features (for her own protection, she would eventually realize) before she started into her magical maelstrom.

A maelstrom that said that, so help you Allen, if you survived this, you were never going to hear the end of it.

(No no no no no! Please be all right! Heavens above, please...)

Then all at once, as the ground began to give way (she didn't care! she didn't care!), she felt his arm wrap around her waist, momentarily suspended as they took flight. Quickly throwing her arms around him, her staff held steady against him, the sudden flare of mana said it all.

It wasn't anger she was telegraphing with her magic; it was fear. Desperation. She would end everything here, tear this whole place apart, if anything so much as hurt either of them. ]

[2/2]

[rememberher]

[ But as soon as the King plucked Allen from his (safe) hiding place, her body, and the intensity of her signature, startlingly cold and painful, began to ease.

She could be angry. And oh, she was. So very angry.

(You idiot! Don't ever do that again!)

But she wasn't so far gone in her fury that she couldn't feel a sudden dip, and, looking up at Sion, she saw the light from La Vista begin to fade.

They were going to fall.

Everything happened in a flurry of motion and chaos. They began to plummet, and suddenly they shifted weight, tumbling in an awkward jumble of limbs. Lux inflexibly gripped tighter, reaching for both of them while tucking herself against both men as tightly as she could for impact.

Wood splintered as they hit, although she wasn't sure why, and while the Rook managed to soak a lot of the initial fall, it still hurt, knocking the air from her lungs. Forcing it back in, she groaned a bit, letting go and crumpling tighter around herself.

(Sorry Allen, she simply keeps falling on you.)

...But they were alive. She could feel them both, although Sion's mana was severely depleted.

Her own pain be damned at this point. Her staff clattering to the ground, the light fading from it, she reached out for both of them, throwing a shaky arm around each, holding them fast. ]

Don't do that again. Both of you...

[ You two were going to be the death of her one day. ]

[sunderings]

[ True to his nature, Allen shifts to take the brunt of the fall unto himself, leaving the King to hold fast to Luxanna, sheltering her small frame against his own, as he wished—a fleeting thought—that the exorcist had not seen fit to take him by the wrist (now, for the second time). And when they collide with the stairwell, three stars plummeting from the dark above, Sion's eyes fall closed as he listens for—the telltale snap! of bone, air gone from the lungs, and the creak and groan of the structure below—all that he might be able to mend no sooner than their tumble downward is forestalled by way of claws ...and heels, digging in and refusing to budge.

It's okay, they're okay, and the embrace they've found themselves in is warm, so much so that it is jarring—dazed, Sion blinks once, then twice, golden eyes softening for just a moment as he studies his pair of friends in a bout of quiet (I am glad that you are safe), before pulling back and away, free of their mana bonds and pervasive link of exchange.

(As his mana dwindles, so too does his control over it diminish, and he hasn't the slightest intention of exposing to them the darkest facets of himself.)

He'd felt it, of course, the way Allen's tremors had bled through the strength of his hold, and how Luxanna had forced motion through pain to return that very embrace, and so... a hymn of healing falls from the King's lips to thank Allen (the idiot that he is, he needn't take everything upon himself) for absorbing the impact of the fall, and to grant Luxanna (who'd worried so) ease and peace of mind. Though he hadn't been able to cushion their landing with a summons of wind, Sion has mana reserves enough for this...—

A spell of rejuvenation.

Cleansing (of pain) and restorative (of mana), little wisps of light flow over Luxanna and Allen both, so much like water as they suffuse the skin with warmth from head to toe. The magic is small, but it serves its purpose well, and that it to lessen the discomfort of his companion as...! He shifts to take a seat higher upon the stairwell, minding Luxanna's weapon (it wouldn't do, if it were to tumble down into the pit below), and then himself (ah...? there is blood blurring his vision, stemming from a cut somewhere near the hairline that he hadn't felt at all—perhaps it'd come from the splinter of the wood beneath them?) as he procures a mana potion from the (protected) contents of his satchel.

In swift succession, he sees the bottle uncorked, its contents drained and put to quick use: a greater healing spell, a broader swath of light, illuminates his palms and his companions both, mending a battered Rook and a Queen quite nearly depleted of her mana.

There. Now all is well. They'll be able to move on, move forward soon. ]

I am sorry; I thought I'd the wings to carry us all.

[likethelight]

[ It's dim... and Allen's not entirely sure what is happening for a moment. It shouldn't be the fall... it hurt, but he's suffered far worse even of falls (and broken bones) before he was a Rook. No—this is like being in a very distant place where everything is muted by the sound of blood rushing in his ears and he's too weak to move.

(Maybe he overdid it then, that ability...)

His eyes flicker open though when an arm is thrown around him as well though, and the warming bloom of the link between the three is enough he doesn't need to be able to see. (In fact, it seems to help that.)

(Though for a moment there... did he feel something... cold? Distant...)

But Lux—Lux is.. ]

...? [ Wanting to say something or pat her hair in reassurance comes out as just a shaky (calming) exhale, letting his eyes flutter shut again as Sion's rejuvenating spell washes over them as well.

(Aah... Sorry.)

(It's okay though. They're all alright.)

But he'll try to sit up after a moment (after his bones have mended and some of his breath comes back as his energy does), just a little tentative as depleting one's mana that much so suddenly leaves one a bit wobbly. Twisting a little to take in their surroundings, though all of Sion he can see form his angle is the man's knee and heeled boot. ]

These must lead up to that creature above then... [ The spider—because it wasn't pulled down with the rest, was it..? ]

[rememberher]

[ They were all right. Everyone was relatively safe and accounted for, and taking a deep breath, she forced the sudden bad thoughts that had begun to crop up from her mind. Only then would that pain start to flood in, dull and far from her mind at first, now brought to the forefront. Both men shielded her fall, but that was not enough to protect her from it altogether, and she ached from the sudden impact and mild overexertion.

But that hardly mattered. She could keep going.

Feeling the warmth of his spell swirl around her, Lux took a deep breath, her eyes closing and the stiff ache that hung over her beginning to melt away. There were more important things, and with the pain slowly starting to ease, the fog that clouded her thoughts began to part. All right, time to assess.

Dislodging herself from both men, the smaller blond moved slowly, reaching for and grabbing her staff. Listening for any telltale creak or moan from the floor below them, she latched it into its holster on her back, looking around. ]

I believe so...

[ A simple nod as she cast a glance upward. While it was impossible to see from here, but it was a fair assumption that the spider was still up there, waiting. That wasn't a thought she relished, admittedly.

Her attention moving toward the King, her eyes squinting in the pale light that his spell cast, Lux noticed that he had not managed to survive the fall unscathed. Still moving carefully, she made her way toward Sion, pulling at the ribbon on her collar. She hated to ruin part of her uniform, but it would be bloodied and ruined in time anyway—if not then, then another time. And if they complained, then it was their own fault for dressing them in white.

Quickly loosening the ribbon on her uniform, she pulled it free, gathering the dark blue fabric in one hand. Wordlessly, she moved his hair away, slowly using it to wipe the blood from his face before finally letting it settle on his forehead. Sion was free to hold it, but if he did not, she would simply keep it there herself. If only the light was better—but no, she wouldn't want to risk it.

Casting a look over her shoulder, the blond frowned. ]

I think we're safe here for now. But we don't want to stay here long.

[ A narrow, unsteady stairwell, it was a disaster waiting to happen, and one that they would likely be unable to handle in their current state. ]

[sunderings]

Then I will scout ahead.

[ He'd given his due protest (it is not necessary, my Lady) before Luxanna had pressed the ribbon of her uniform to his forehead, the fabric folded over into a square of cloth to better clean the golden shimmer of blood from his face; to staunch the flow of it from a cut which isn't much at all. If the King had failed to heal himself where his magic so readily fell upon his friends, it had been borne of a wish to conserve mana—there is little need to tend to so troublesome a wound, especially when he's the boots for the job. Synthesized from Gisela's meteorite, the very heels which Allen views from a prime vantage point will be the instrument which sees Sion renewed: for each and every step forward he takes while wearing the boots, he is healed in small increments and degrees, his vitality boosted.

And so he stands, unable to be swayed from the decision he's made, (shrinking) pulling gently back from Luxanna's touch, though he holds fast to her gift—her ribbon, now stained and dimly aglow with the incandescence of his blood. With a soft intonation of thanks upon his lips, he fishes two jukeboxes (one orange, one grape) from the satchel at his thigh, pressing them into her hands while wearing a familiar, calming smile: ]

In the meantime, please tend to Allen. [ Allen, who has overdone himself again; who will need a few moments more before he's able to find his feet and grasp his bearings, so until then...! ] The juice is mana infused, so you drink up too, Luxanna!

[ And just like that, the King is gone in a flash, bounding up the stairs with no small amount of grace as his voice and the streak of his white-as-snow hair trail behind him. By the time he's reached the top of the stairwell, the cut upon his forehead has long since closed, there is both bounce and skip to his step, and if he is heedless, it is because he hasn't a need to be otherwise—the whole of him is lambent, from Guiding Light to the glow which limns from his skin, and it is well within his intention to function as a lure, so that a certain spider might come to sit beside him.

A chipper voice echoes down the stairwell a short time later, “I must say, that was very rude of you. No one has ever turned down an invitation to my tea parties.” ]

Ah? Then let me extend to you an invitation instead— [ Drawn again from the holster at his back, Guiding Light sings as the blade cuts through the air in an arch, light coalescing along the blade to form a crescent with which to knock a spider back, eight legs and all. ] —begone, monster!

[ ...and with the flooring of the first level caved in, the house seems as though it might be brought down as well, the very foundations of it rattling when the Heer Spinnekop is flung into the far wall. ]

1/2

[likethelight]

[ Familiar, calming smile...

Sion, no. He's seen that smile before. (Given that smile before, too.) It has him struggling to sit up a little straighter (up but his limbs are betraying him) before the King's even finished talking.

( Gold. It dawns on him, though he's too worked up to realize it right this second, that that's his blood and it's gold. )

( Come to think of it... he can barely remember those last moments on the train before he blacked out, but Sion's tears... )

But agh, really. Juiceboxes be damned!! ] Sion!

[ Don't you dare—

Just what do you expect them to do?! ]

Sion! [ But he's already gone and Allen grits his teeth, wobbling slightly from having lunged up too quickly in failed effort to catch the King before he left. Sion's voice and the spider's—it's sentient enough to talk? or something up there is?—follow shortly, echoing down the staircase. Airy, nigh-cheerful rejoinders floating down before the sickening crunch of a heavy body being thrown.

The sounds of fighting. ]

2/2

[likethelight]

...

[ There's an audible splintering of wood under his hand. Looks like it was his gauntleted left one he was steadying himself with. Whups. There's some of his strength coming back. ]

Aaah, really... [ Do you think he's just going to sit here and sip juice while you fight.

Wobbles be damned. He's going to start climbing up. With a shaky deathgrip (???) on the remaining railing he's all but crushing under his hand from concentrating on staying upright, one bloody step at a time.



—and one step is going to be exactly how far he gets before his footing gives out from under him and he starts going down in a heavy crumple. ]

[rememberher]

[ "Then I will scout ahead."

No...

Sion Astal, a man who always took it upon himself to take it all upon himself. Spoken like a true king, placing himself last. Even as he thrust a few mana-infused juice boxes at her, smiling as he did and instructing her to take care of Allen before charging up those stairs, he thought only of them, and of their objective.

But you weren't her king, Sion.

No.

His conversation with the spider upstairs hardly mattered to her at this point and, holding both juice boxes in her hands, she calmly made her way toward the exorcist. She could hear his anger, splintering the ground under his left hand. She heard his sudden call to their silver-haired companion. Saw him stumble and crumple in on himself as he attempted to stand; holding out an arm, she moved to catch him before he could fall, wrapping it around his back.

(It was cold like a winter's storm, her mana, colors in chaos, practically writhing there around her. But there was something else there as well, darkness curling within the kaleidoscope of color. Anger. Deep-seeded anger.)

Taking Allen's hand, she forced one of the juice boxes into it, opening her own and downing it quickly, crushing it in her hand before letting it drop.

No. ]

I'll help you up. Help me drag that idiot king out of there.

[ Her arm still wrapped around him, both for support and an extra boost, she began to move with urgency. She'll drag him as well if she needed to. Heavens help Heer Spinnekop. ]