⇨☾⇨Otranto Castle is a hub for bloodsuckers in Eastern Arcana. The skill is dark and filled with fog and clouds as bats cut through the night sky. The castle is filled with human cattle that are used for feeding the bloodsuckers as well as torture chambers, coffins, and other amenities.
Bats chirped in alarm as Yata entered the Otranto Castle grounds. Thick fog obscured the witch’s vision. He had brought with him a long silver staff, bandages wrapped around the center for better grip. If he had wanted to save some effort, he could have easily flown in on the weapon, but that would defeat the purpose. Right now, Yata was angry. There was a chilling aura about him, rage flaring in his eyes. The blood red pools scanned the dense mist, eager for his prey to make themselves known already. After his earlier clearing of the graveyard, all the knowledge-seeking sorcerer wanted to do was delve back into his research. Instead, after the souls were returned to the Conduit, Yata was further tasked with dealing with some rogue vampires based in Otranto Castle.
According to the report they were preying on humans that weren’t designated as “cattle.” That act alone wouldn’t be particularly vile, given their nature. However, this particular group was thinning the human numbers down far too low. The Grand Coven had issued them a single warning. After the numbers continued to dwindle, action had to be taken. Yata initially protested the order, but was then informed that if he didn’t take on this task then he would be bound to some other work instead. Work that would take much longer to complete. So here he stood, in the middle of a courtyard with minimal visibility. He would not speak, for his tongue was busy pressing against his teeth in frustration. If anything, he wanted to scream in protest. Knowing full well that doing so would alert his targets and cause a ruckus. A stirring in the fog caught his attention.
Yata gripped his staff tighter, his Book of the Dead open and floating by his side. An incantation circle formed on the ground below, but did not activate yet. Yata wanted to delay his minions. Giving himself a chance to blow off steam on his own. More stirring, closer this time. A flurry of wings could be heard getting closer. Yata flourished his weapon, channeling mana into its tip. As the swarm of bats grew closer, Yata thrust his staff forward. A shockwave of pressure blasted outward after connecting with one of the bats. The shockwave caught the others and pushed them back, forcing them back to their original form. The vampire rolled from the impact before glaring at Yata. A flash of fangs prefaced a slur of insults thrown in the witch’s face. Something roughly pertaining to his allegiance with the Grand Coven. They mocked the Queen, calling her a restricting tyrant. Yata did not care. The Grand Coven was of little concern to him, so long as they allowed him to pursue his goals.
Yata stepped forward. The vampire stayed where he was, spouting more nonsense instead of standing. A grave miscalculation. The snow-haired witch lifted his foot calmly before thrusting his heel into the face of the downed enemy with all the strength he could muster. A piece of fang broke loose and hurled into the air. His body reeled even further backwards, rolling once again. A splatter of blood painted the ground, and Yata snatched the piece of tooth from the air. A souvenir from an annoying job was better than nothing. The vampire realized that speaking would get him nowhere. An aura of magic poured from his body, causing a reaction in the blood on the ground. Yata’s eyes never left the vampire. Instead, he simply stepped to the side, allowing the needle of blood to pierce the air that he previously occupied. Another shift in the fog, from the side this time. Instead of reacting to it, the witch simply flicked his hand through the air. As the swarm of bats closed in, a series of bandages erupted from the ground. The bats were individually caught, one by one, until they could do nothing but struggle against their restraints. The mummy finished forming, collecting the bats into one area and using its thick forearms to contain them in an embrace. The vampire they belonged to coalesced shortly after, and the mummy dispatched of it with a tight squeeze. Blood poured from the creature's orifices before evaporating. The soul left behind was quickly absorbed by Yata’s book.
The sight of his friend’s death sent the downed enemy into a frenzy. He used his sharpened nails to slice open his own wrists, flinging blood into the air. The crescent shaped blades that sliced through the fog were easy to read. Yata held his palm towards the attack, a wave of madness pulsing outward from his body. An ethereal set of teeth manifested from the ground below him, upper jaw rising from behind. It arced over his head until meeting the bottom jaw in front. The demonic skull surrounding his body pulsed with pure madness, but was sturdy enough to block the incoming blades. The skull remained in place while the incantation circle underneath began forming three additional minions. Two spirits and a second mummy. The four minions now in play stood in a semi- circle formation, guarding Yata from any assaults from behind. The enemy in front of him had his attention. He wanted to toy with him a bit further.
Another wave of his hand and a pillar of water enveloped the vampire’s body. Chains weaved their way around the pillar as a way to prevent escape. The vampire was in no real danger. This handy little spell was a projection known as Phantom Play. Still, his body writhed in agony, as if he couldn’t breathe. He struggled in the phantom pillar of water, fighting against its edges, unaware that he could easily push through the chains containing him if he had the willpower to do so. His body, mind, and soul could not make the distinction between what was real and what wasn’t. Right before the creature would faint from suffocation, Yata released him. The water and chains evaporated into thin air, no trace of their existence left behind.
The enemy vampire gasped, choking on every breath he took for a few moments, eager for the air he could take in. In a desperate attempt, it gathered all the blood it could to form a cone. The cone was hollow, but sharp. It launched, deceptively quick for its substantial size. Yata reinforced his madness-formed barrier to withstand the attack, watching it shatter on contact with his shield. A few more vampires began showing up. Yata’s mummies had captured their own targets, and his spirit minions were fending off four vampires already. The witch spared no time. A magic circle appeared in the palm of his hand, facing the sky. A bolt of electricity launched upwards, filling the already eerie sky with thick clouds. A crash of thunder followed shortly. The vampires took their turns launching crimson attacks in Yata’s direction. When a crack split into his barrier, a rain of electric fury fell upon the area. Multiple bolts of lightning connected with the vampires, some splitting off into their own separate arcs to reach more enemies. The only one spared from the judgement being cast down was still gasping for air. As the souls of his comrades floated into Yata’s Book of the Dead, the vampire panicked, turning to flee.
The distance he travelled was short-lived. Yata’s mummy shot a series of bandages forth to trap his legs. However, Yata opted to make the ordeal all the more terrifying for his victim. A tinge of madness filled the area, causing a visual glitch to manifest before the vampire through another phantom play apparition. It made the vampire think he had actually made significantly more ground than he really had. And seeing all of that progress taken away as the mummy dragged him backwards was sickening. Yata noticed the vampire’s pants had grown wet, the terror of the situation proving too much for his vampire prey. It seemed like all of the fight that the creature showed moments before was gone now. How tragically satisfying. It wasn’t until a much larger, seemingly stronger, vampire entered the fray that Yata brought the end of his staff down on the whimpering creature, ending his life. The soul vanished into his book. Yata was feeling much better now, having had an outlet for the rage he had been feeling. Still, no sense in speaking to those that would soon be little more than ash on the floor.
”You busted up my boys pretty well,” the assumed boss sneered. A magic circle appeared beside Yata. The vampire boss opened a vein in his wrist. As Yata’s fireball roared forward, so too did a flurry of bloody slashes. Simultaneously, the vampire manipulated the blood on the ground around Yata to pierce his feet with needles. The witch winced in pain, followed by a punch to the jaw from this powerful foe. The distance he was knocked back allowed him time to use regeneration magic to heal the holes in his feet. Yata’s minions stepped between the two. Yata launched a series of lightning bolts from the sky towards the vampire. His foe sidestepped one, but was contacted by the rest. He seemed unphased by the electricity, save for a momentary stun. Yata’s spirit allies proceeded to launch their own magic attacks at the vampire, but he easily overpowered them due to their reduced strength. Yata’s mummies were the first to be defeated, turning to ash after a series of swift blows. This vampire was clearly experienced with fighting against multiple opponents. His manipulation of blood resulted in further expelled blades, which sliced into a spirit, causing it to dissipate. When the vampire closed in on the last minion, Yata smirked. The spirit exploded on contact. A ray of energy erupting from its form, catching the enemy in the fallout.
Yata had assumed, foolishly, that would be the end. He was preparing to leave as the smoke settled. The first thing he saw was a crimson wing. Hardened blood had curved around the vampire’s body at just the right time. The implosion of Yata’s minion didn’t have any effect. Instead, it left the two standing in the courtyard alone. No further interruption from Yata’s minions now. The vampire sauntered towards Yata, oozing with inflated confidence. After all, he had survived such a sudden surprise attack. It was no wonder he was feeling cocky now. Yata flourished his staff slowly, readying himself for the coming assault. The vampire moved quickly. Rushing forward almost too quick for Yata to react. Almost. The witch swung his staff, deftly avoiding the outstretched arm of the vampire. The polearm connected with the vampire’s stomach, a deafening crack against the ribcage. A pulse of electricity surged through the weapon, channeling a lightning bolt to further strike the enemy. The impact coupled with the lightning strike was enough to send the vampire back several yards.
Yata wasn’t like your run of the mill necromancer. He wasn’t helpless without the assistance of the minions. In fact, they were occasionally a hindrance to his plans. The cockiness of the vampire waned slightly. He must have assumed that this would be a simple kill with the necromancers tricks out of the way. Another bolt of lightning crashed from the sky. It forced the vampire to dodge to the side. He may have avoided the lightning, but Yata had predicted his dodging pattern. Now, the vampire was face to face with a ball of fire. It engulfed him, searing his flesh. The vampire screamed in agony until the flames dissipated. His breathing was heavy, burdened by the newfound pain he was in. The wounds he had opened for his blood magic were cauterized now. In order for him to make use of them, he would have to reopen them. Yata wasn’t giving him the chance. Another pulse of madness flitted through the area. Hulking, phantom snakes burst forth from the ground, snapping their poisonous fangs at the charred vampire. He tripped over his own feet to back away, tumbling to the ground. The snakes circled around him, sinking their ethereal maws into his skin. The vampire felt the poison from their jaws pumping into his veins. He would feel as if his heart was slowing down, encumbered by the toxins.
At this point, cleaning up would be a simple matter. Yata walked towards the vampire cautiously. This encounter was full of surprises already, he didn’t want to be caught off guard any further. Vampires were much craftier than kishin eggs. Luckily, these lot seemed to be fairly weak compared to most. As he closed the distance, the vampires body broke apart, forming a swarm of vampire bats that escaped the phantom snakes. They flew high into the air, then crashed down. The vampires body recollected in time to drop an axe-kick on Yata’s shoulder. He dropped to the ground, releasing his staff due to the force of the blow. ”Dirty trick, witch.” The vampire opened another vein, flinging his blood across the battlefield. Yata needed to end this now. He was starting to get low on Mana, and this vampire didn’t seem to be low in the slightest. The vampire waved a hand over the blood on the ground. A wave of needles sprouted forth, travelling from one splatter to the next. Yata held his hands above his head, his staff reacting and flying into his grip. He brought the staff down on the ground. The resulting shockwave cracked the ground enough that the closest pools of blood were scattered and sent out of range for the needles to hit him.
Yata stood, using his staff as leverage. An aura of fire began to envelop him, blazing red wings sprouting from the back of his Phoenix Robe. An all or nothing bet had to be placed here. Yata was by no means the most talented or gifted witch. All he had was the spells he had learned and an intellect vast enough to make a plan. If he had come here with a bit more information, then this setback could have been avoided. The incantation circle formed on the ground, raising only two minions, ensuring that they were stronger than the ones before. The spirit and the mummy came into being just before the vampire rushed forward. The spirit stood between Yata and the vampire, enabling a chain of events that had the highest probability of success.
First, Yata launched two bolts of lightning, one came from a magic circle that formed near him, the second came from the remnants of the storm clouds above. The bolt from the sky split in half, striking behind and to the left of the vampire, preventing it from retreating in those directions. The one launched from the magic circle connected with the spirit, channeling through it. A black orb produced from the other side, flying in the direction of the vampire. While this was happening, Yata’s mummy sent a series of bandages towards the creature from the right side, ready to entangle it. The vampire was moving far too fast now. It’s only option was to take one of the attacks, and risk the consequences. That, or try and find another way out. The latter is what Yata was hoping for. The vampire looked to the sky, preparing to hurl itself into a flurry of bats. Yata was already above, using the flaming wings to fly. A fireball launched itself towards the vampire.
Stunned by the realization that he had been two steps behind, the vampire was left with no options and no time to make another choice. The mummy wrapped its bandages around the vampire’s body, preventing it from moving. The black sphere connected with the back of his neck. A jolt of electricity ran through his body. The fireball connected a fraction of time later, engulfing the area in fire. Yata floated down to the ground. As the flames dissipated, the vampire’s body was revealed to be left on the ground. Heaving with each breath, eyes wide with pain and humiliation. The point that the black orb had made contact with was necrotizing, rapidly killing the skin around it. Finally, Yata spoke. ”Well fought. You had me on the ropes for a while there.” The vampire’s eyes darted to look at the witch who had bested him. Yata leaned down over him, taking in the body. ”Such a shame. If you hadn’t gone against the Grand Coven’s wishes, this all could have been avoided.” Yata placed a hand over the vampire’s throat. He squeezed, using all of his leftover strength to crush the creature’s throat. Within minutes, the vampire was officially dead.
Yata collected the soul within his Book of the Dead and took in the sight of the battle. Arcana would begin to regenerate the damage done soon. The blood would be the first to wash away. The copious amounts of it that had spread around the area would likely be a sickening sight to most. Yata was used to it by now. Learning the ways of Necromancy often brought one in contact with more than their fair share of life-sustaining fluids. He stared at the area until the magic in the air began doing what it did best. The blood glowed slightly, evaporating into the air, followed by the restructuring of damaged areas. Yata dispelled his minions, allowing them to become ash and be washed away by the tides of regenerations. As he turned to leave, he couldn't help but think: 'Maybe the vampires are the key to finding what I'm after. Such a shame.'
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Etherious Virgil
Greedy Prophet
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Ephemeral Ozymandias Captain
Obsessive Prophet
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Posted: Thu Oct 21, 2021 4:17 pm
⇨☾⇨Apotheosis stepped through a fiery gateway of sorcery magic in the Otranto Castle corner of Arcana. He had just returned from collecting souls from the bloodbath at the Death City hall. "Ugh! I need to rinse myself of Death City filth!" Yata would hear Apotheosis's histrionic exclamation as he stepped into Arcana in a huff. It was difficult to overstate how much the sorcerer loathed leaving glorious Arcana. Yata would see his cape billowing behind him as he walked about. Wait...this isn't Carmilla. Apotheosis planned to teleport himself to Carmilla but in his frustration and desperation to get out of Death City he got lost along the way during his teleportation spell. The pyromancer turned to Yata and pointed aggressively at him while flipping his hair. "You! What is this place?" Apotheosis inquired forcefully.
Yata had only taken a few steps towards leaving the area before a portal opened nearby. It consisted of what seemed like flames, ripping through the fabric of space as was a fairly common occurrence in the realm, indicating the arrival of a sorcerer. His plan, seeing as he had things he would have liked to return to, was to ignore the witch and continue his task of returning the collected souls. However, fate had something different in mind. As the newcomer spoke, Yata's interest was caught and he turned to see who had graced his presence. 'Death City? That sounds like quite an annoying trip to take,' he thought to himself. The fog in the area began to thin itself out, no longer such a hinderance on visibility. Yata watched from a distance as the stranger walked about. The cape he was wearing led the snow-haired sorcerer to raise an eyebrow. It wasn't a garment that he himself would wear, but to each their own.
Crimson colored pools watched the pyromancer for a moment before a finger was raised towards him. His eye twitched. Just a few feet behind Yata, the area had almost completely recovered from the damage dealt to it moments before. The aggressive air that Apotheosis was addressing him with was slightly alarming. Yata decided it was best to tread carefully. After all, he was running low on mana after the bout with the vampires. He tossed a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing towards the looming castle behind him. "We're in East Arcana. Otranto to be specific," he replied bluntly, pressing the spine of his Book of the Dead against his side and shifting his weight. "Haven't seen you around before, I'm Yata."
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Ephemeral Ozymandias
Etherious Virgil
Greedy Prophet
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Ephemeral Ozymandias Captain
Obsessive Prophet
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Posted: Sat Oct 23, 2021 12:22 pm
⇨☾⇨As if on cue, Apotheosis could smell the thick iron scent of blood on the air the moment it was revealed to him that he was in Otranto Castle. He was slightly insulted when Yata did not immediately recognize him. "You don't recognize me? I'm Apotheosis! Four-star sorcerer of the Grrrrrrrand Coven!" Apotheosis rolled his r's rather excessively as he flicked his cape behind him. "Yata, yes, hmmmmm, indubitably. I recognize the name from the roster. You're a necromancer! Yes?" The sorcerer inquired about Yata as flamboyantly as possible. He then started looking around furiously. "Oh how I've tried to limit my visits to Otrrrrrranto. I was trying to get to my home in Vathek, but alas! I got distracted!" Apotheosis huffed as he dusted off his clothing with his hands. "I'm no enthusiast of bloodsuckers myself. Why humans are so enthralled with them positively mystifies me!" The high-level sorcerer continued ranting as he tried to ascertain his surroundings. "And what are you doing skulking about here, necrrrrromancer?!" Apotheosis pointed again as he looked at him with suspicion.
"Apotheosis? Ah, yes the name is familiar, you're the pyromancer," Yata replied, attempting to ignore the sorcerers curiously excessive speech pattern. The rolling "R's" only helped further put name to face for identifying the red haired witch. Yata had heard rumors that Apotheosis could be a bit eccentric at times. He nodded a quick reply before continuing to answer the first question posed to him. "I am indeed a necromancer." He seemed quite frustrated. Though, what else could you expect a witch to feel after leaving Death City. That place was crawling with inferiority and disease. Disgusting. The more curious matter was how exactly Apotheosis got turned around and wound up here, if he lived in Vathek. He must have been in a hurry. "Oh, no particular reason. I was simply here.... Resolving a problem," Yata flourished his hand through the air, signifying a search for the rest of his sentence.
"On request from the council, of course." He glanced back at where one of the Vampire's bodies had been laying moments ago. "I can appreciate their obsession with the blood suckers. I don't care for them, either, but humans tend to romanticize them. Some of their literature has warped the way they perceive them. It has popularized them as some sort of nigh-immortal, apex predator beast, and romanticized the potential dangers of such existence." Yata's ramblings reminded him momentarily of his innermost desire, and briefly returned him to his thoughts pertaining to some sort of unspoken tether between vampirism and the secrets of life and death. Not necessarily the true forms of the vampires, but the humanized characters in fairytales. A smile spread along his face. "Human's are so blissfully incompetent."
Beyond the area's thick fog, screeching bats and dense atmosphere, arriving in this area; a chilly breeze followed the witch's in his quadrupedal form. Close enough, facial signs of disapproval was written on after retreating from Death City. A chilly breeze followed the witch's in his quadrupedal form.❝Damn that brat! He nearly cost me cover points with that trick! And those three brats... too close for comfort, but still.. If things goes wrong, a little illusions or two should keep them at bay.❞ His voice echoed in anger, dragging his body across the darken path, grinding his teeth in the midst; only to catch something in near distance from him while he approaches. Figures were talking. Out of the two, a simple view wasn't hard, judging by how much cape flipping one fool can pull off. ❝ No matter where you appear, a witty introduction must be in order. ❞
To the unopenable forest where cicadas cry You can't turn back anymore
Ephemeral Ozymandias
Etherious Virgil
Posted: Mon Oct 25, 2021 4:26 pm
⇨☾⇨There was something so brute and pedestrian about necromancy to Apotheosis. Since sorcery was clearly superior in every way then why would one use their magical artifact to conjure the dead? Why not use it to unlock the raw power of the arcane? It made little sense to Apotheosis whose eyes glazed over slightly when Yata confirmed his necromancer status. He did nod affirmatively when Yata mentioned performing work on the behalf of the Grand Coven. "Yes yes, duty always calls it seems." Apotheosis spoke in reference to the Grand Coven.
⇨☾⇨Yata was beginning to make a breakthrough to Apotheosis, however. The arrogant sorcerer did share the necromancer's views on the childish nature of humanity. Apotheosis rubbed his chin before letting out a haughty laugh. "To think that Death believes humans to be worthy of true power! Preposterous!" From his reaction, it was clear that Apotheosis was beginning to warm up to Yata. I like this one. Now, if he can recognize the glory of my sorcery then we'll be fast friends... The pyromancer considered internally before his thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Fannar. His eyes lit up like a strike on a match as they drifted over to the four-legged beast. After Fannar's arrival, Apotheosis was rather sure that it was insulting him and he would not stand for it! "Pfft, leave this place! Don't you know that animals don't belong indoors?!" Apotheosis puffed out before the sorcerer started looking about again. "Wait, we are outside? It matters not! Just...leave!" The fop then began performing shooing motions with his hands at Fannar.
Yata shrugged his shoulder's. Apotheosis seemed to understand the nature of the Grand Coven and the workload placed on the witches, though he wasn't sure if the pyromancer enjoyed the tasks given to him or not. Yata was particularly annoyed when asked to perform any duties for the Grand Coven that did not involve research. Wise men would tell him to keep his mouth shut about that, and so he did. Instead, he offered a simple reply. "Indeed it does." Yata reached into his pockets and produced a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. The smoke billowed upwards and vanished. Apotheosis' assessment of Death and his humans was correct, as far as Yata was concerned. However, the necromancer believed that nothing was entirely definite. Phenomena do happen, occasionally.
"It is a careless thought on his part. Human's are barbaric. If they did happen to achieve a higher level of power, they would certainly squander it," his reply was said with a tinge of boredom. "Or, even worse, they would use it for petty war." Yata's research into the secret ties between life and death led him to look into the history of humanity long ago, trying to find the origin point for their "living dead" myths and the first recorded cases of something called Lazarus Syndrome. His conclusion, after looking at the records, is that humanity seemed to lack the ability to avoid conflict by civil means. There always seemed to be some disagreement, some buffoonery that lead them to fight amongst each other. It was at this point that a creature had come close to their location. Apotheosis, judging by his reaction, didn't seem to like the visitor. Yata shifted his weight and watched the interaction between the two. Arching his eyebrow at Apotheosis momentary confusion as to their whereabouts.
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Ephemeral Ozymandias
Nyanianda
Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2021 3:58 pm
『 Star Level ☆ 』
『 Level Ⅱ 』
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Fannar's feline facial showed an unimpressed tone, almost emotional at first-- before it shifts into a hurtful position; sitting on his hind legs with a paw on his fur chest imitating a fake "Oooo...". ❝ Oh.. ouch~ Who dyed your cape hot pink, diva? Also, to refresh that little... um, how should I say this? All types of animals live among indoors and outdoors... I was merely listening in your conversation and I must say.. I do agree on viewpoints...❞ He spoke firmly, stretching his limber back backwards as the air slowly changes into a cold front, his eyes soon glow a bright magenta; smoke looming from the smaller witch leaving a dark silhouette that soon shifts into a human figure, showcasing Fannar. ❝ However--- I suggest you from speaking to me like that: from the same witch who went nuts from the madness... unless that pretty little head of yours care about sight... or having a heart beat.~ ❞ A sudden change in tone, now dark and empty throwing a wicked fang smile staring down (or rather up) at Apotheosis before gazing at Yata. Seems that all three share similar displeasure in humanity. That's something he can stand-by.
Waving a finger as his animal form tail appeared, laying itself on the ground just to stiffen itself for Fannar to sit back as if he's sitting on a chair in the air. ❝ Ignore mister lava boy here. I, too find humanity to be... hmmm... overbearing. To think Death expects humans to be wise or knowledgeable or hell, understand the responsible: if anything, they must end up causing their own demise. I guess being a librarian can take one's loss on you..❞ He just shrugs his shoulders in annoyance.
⇨☾⇨Apotheosis thought of Yata's commentaries before responding. "It's good that humans cannot wield magic. Magic is a true power that must be studied astutely. I hope to someday attain the power of the Book of Eibon." Apotheosis was an endlessly ambitious sorcerer. His hand reached up toward the skies of Arcana. He slowly clenched his fist in front of his face as he thought of the great secrets within the dragon lore. "And what do you seek, necrrrrrromancer?!" Apotheosis interrogated again. The power to manipulate the dead was lesser than that of the arcane but not an art to be embarked upon lightly nonetheless. Apotheosis was highly curious of it.
⇨☾⇨He was growing more frustrated with Fannar the more he spoke. "How dare you thrrrreaten me, you mongrel!" Apotheosis scoffed before running his thumb under his chin and pointing it at the creature. The ultimate gesture of posh disrespect! "And what could you possibly be grasping for, monster? You're no sorcerer." Apotheosis scoffed again.
Apotheosis' declaration that he wished to attain the Book of Eibon someday incited a feeling of respect in Yata. Despite the dramatic flair, perhaps the two shared something more in common than their ties to Arcana and the Grand Coven. The thirst for knowledge was unquenchable when walking this plane, and Yata was not the only one who felt its breath on his neck. A smile spread across his cheeks when the question was posed to him. "I seek to find the threads that tie together life and death. I want to see them with my own eyes, to know what secret force is behind the curtain," he brushed a hand over his Book of the Dead in thought, the very idea of finding the truth to those secrets filling him with delight.
The subject was then shifted to Fannar, who was now poised upon his tail as if sitting in a chair. Yata thought it best not to dig for information on how the two know each other. That appeared to be a slightly hostile subject. Yata was happy, mostly, to hear that they did all share a disdain for humans. "Librarian, you say? Intriguing. Though, humans do have a funny way of making situations worse for themselves. What with all of the nonsensical choices they make and things of that nature." The necromancer shifted his weight, curious as to what the shapeshifter's motivations in this world were. Apotheosis was likely to get a less-than-kind answer in return, but information could still be garnered regardless.
Questions, statements, all wood work from left to right being presented, now leaving Fannar to ponder on who to comment: The passion sorcerer or the curious bloodsucker. A twist of the wrist with this option, knowing how much more of an earful ,he'll get if he doesn't answer Apotheosis first. Even if Yata has similar intake, a small answer should be stated. ❝ Impulsion. It's how humans handled themselves, reactions... anything, they can come up to an agreement... Unlike a figure such as myself isn't tied with that.. ❞ He shakes his head, leaning against a singular ice-like arm rest, lightly chuckling at the thought before sighing. ❝ ...Order. I want order. I wish to cleanse this tainted world into my own format. I view humans as the most pathetic excuse of species who relays too much on emotions; feeling sorry for hurting one another... or creating tension that can easily continue onwards... but, NO! They feel hurt in their heart...! UGH!! MAKES ME SICK TO MY STOMACH!! ❞ His voice shifts from loud to lunatic slamming his fist against the makeshift structure as cracks formed instantly but, doesn't break leaning now forward almost as if he's yelling at them. After that little breakdown, his form just sat backwards imitating a chair with his head laying on his side shoulder, eyes blank.
Quickly regaining his conscious as well as sanity, the transform made himself more presentable, ignoring whatever outburst he did. ❝ That's what I want.... So in the meanwhile, I'm only posing as one in hopes I can gather up information about the school... unfortunately, I haven't got much of lately except wishing to tear a soul apart to ease my anger. ? I guess... we're both on similar paths, bloodsucker. or would you rather me call you by your name? Your choice. ❞
To the unopenable forest where cicadas cry You can't turn back anymore
Ephemeral Ozymandias
Etherious Virgil
Posted: Thu Nov 11, 2021 3:27 pm
⇨☾⇨Apotheosis stared at Fannar blankly. Fannar expressed being sickened by humans and Apotheosis took his chance. "Now you understand how I feel about mangy creatures such as you." He agreed with the sentiments as applied to animals although he found humans naive rather than repulsive. Then he pondered further about the concept of order. "Absolute order is a rubbish goal." The pyromancer dismissed the idea as hotly as the flames he wielded. "That's what makes humans foolish. They're always trying to control their little worlds, not realizing that they have none." Apotheosis looked between Fannar and Yata as he made his points. "Magic is at its powerful when we give up control. Magic is a chaotic force in its essence. By giving into the pull of magic we can attain arcane power beyond comprehension!" The ambitious sorcerer expressed his view loudly and confidently. Once he was settled and felt he had said his peace, he looked at Yata again. "That's something that so few necromancers can ever truly grasp. Yet they dedicate their lives to it. What makes you think you can unlock those secrets that have alluded so many others?" Apotheosis questioned Yata.
Yata watched as Fannar slipped into a state of hysteria. Watching the curious way he pounded against the structures he made before falling into what appeared to be a state somewhere just behind conscious. His recollection of self lead to a peculiar ignorance of his outburst. Whether this was a decision he had made, or he simply could not remember what was said would be a topic saved for later. However, his eye did twitch as he was referred to as a bloodsucker. Before he could correct the beastly sorcerer, Apotheosis chimed in, giving his thoughts on order. Yata couldn't help but agree with both of his acquaintances.
"Absolute order and absolute chaos.... Both have their flaws," his response began with a shrug. "Magic is indeed chaotic, the more control you give up, the more powerful the spell you can produce. However," he paused a moment and took a deep drag off his lit cigarette, the embers that had been threatening to die out reignited, burning a bright orange. "Without control, without order, our own spells could threaten everything we aim to gain. Much like this cigarette in my hand, we must maintain at least a minute amount of control to ensure our... Fire's, stay lit.. That's what I believe at least."
He continued, turning his attention to Apotheosis' query. "As for how I intend to find the object of my desires, I do my research. For now. I just need to find that first thread. I spend hours pouring through historical texts, tracing the roots of necromancy. Once I find the documentation for the first successful use of necromancy, I'll have my first clue." His words hinted that the process he was undertaking was an exhausting one, but so were many of the more worthwhile ventures. "Other necromancer's are fools. They keep themselves confined, never willing to take the extra step. Never willing to... Let go. Oh, and my name is Yata, I'm not one of these mongrel's." His conclusion came with a wave of his hand in the general direction of the castle, disdain oozing from his voice at the mere idea of being a vampire.
