Channelknight Fadran

I surrounded myself in the bold, dark aura of the amulet. Shadow leaked from the edges of my blade, coating the air. I leapt off the vehicle, slashing at the monster's face with inhuman speed. Darkness still trailed behind as I hacked away, striking any exposed bit of flesh or fur relentlessly.

The Mystic grinned, meeting John's eyes. "Ahh... at least you won't be boring." He swung out of his grip, jerking around and smashing a fist into John's stomach. As soon as she'd left behind all the gas, Elya pulled off her mask and dropped it to the floor. She gripped her sword in both hands, firing her power to a fuller extent. "I know you're there..." She muttered. A portal opened. Elya spun on her heel, slicing the air where the bullet fired. The halves went both directions, clattering against the walls harmlessly. "There you are."

"Awww. How cute." The Mystic darted forwards with blinding speed, swinging at John's face.

The Mystic leapt away, then ducked back in to swipe with his fists. "Another what, hm?"

"Gerald, should..." Ellis almost seemed... desperate. He fingered the amulet.

Elya ducked around another punch, slashing down the Mystic's face. It didn't do any good that he let her hit him: he always grinned that crazy, euphoric grin, then darted forwards to punch her back and heal his wounds. Blood started accumulating across all the spots he managed to hit, and time and time again it was as though Elya hadn't even left a scratch on him. Further still, that Transporter was still firing at her. She'd take precious moments to deflect the bullets, and the Lifegiver would ram his spikes into her chest. Elya jumped away, grunting again as flares of pain ran through her sternum. He was too fast. She couldn't let herself get in close. So... "John, Lyanor: take this one." Elya ordered, keeping out of range of his fists. "Don't let him get close. I'll hunt down the Transporter." @Frustration @DramaQueen

What kind of coloring pages?

NO FAIR. SHARE SOME AWESOME FOR US, MAN!

Elya took in a breath--weak, shallow, and somewhat stale--then darted through the gas at the Mystic. She slashed outwards to shift around the fog, then launched through the edges with a puff. The Mystic's fist flew at her face. Elya ducked aside, slashed, then shot forwards towards him. He was fast and agile, but couldn't completely dodge her attacks: or maybe he was just choosing not to? He found an opening and dashed forwards. A bloody slice appeared across his chest, but the Mystic still managed to get in close enough to return a strike. Elya dodged the majority of it, but couldn't escape completely unscathed. She slide backwards and pressed a hand to the new gashes on her forearm, only aware a moment later how she'd just let her guard down. But the Mystic didn't press forwards. Instead he only grinned wider as the cut on his chest stopped bleeding. Lights. Elya thought. He's one of them.

The Mystic avoided easily, darting around the acidic air. Despite the putrid, euphoric grimace on his face, he seemed to be mostly smart enough to avoid breathing the gas in completely. His eyes were trained on Elya for the time being, but it was clear he was scanning the area in its entirety at the moment.

The shimmering bit of the air vanished away, erasing any presence of the second voice. Elya stood and watched the first, then almost threw up in her mouth a little as he stepped forwards and took a little whiff of it. The Mystic stumbled back in a coughing fit, but kept the cruel grin on his face. "Ahhh..." He hacked up blood, wiping it off. "That's good stuff."

Elya pulled the mask down, but didn't say anything. The gas would, at most, make a minor inconvenience for these Mystics. With luck that would still improve their odds a bit, but with the foggy glass eye coverings and restricted breathing, she couldn't help but feel a little... trapped. Her powers were at an uncanny low.

"Hrm. How dull." The second voice came from seemingly nowhere. Elya's eyes narrowed as it sounded, her muscles twitching at hilt of her blade. For the time being, though, she held steady. "Basic. Unruly. Really not that interesting."

"So... you're the one they're all talking about?" Tengo V'Harte stepped out of the shadows across the street, wearing nothing more than a pair of trousers and some spiked knuckle braces. He grinned like a madman at Elya, sweeping his jet-black hair aside with a jerk of his head. "Nice to meet you."

Elya sucked in a breath, then drew her sword and stepped out into the street. She stood at the alley's head, glancing about. Anyone who noticed her shied away from just her stance alone, and those who remained ducked into a nearby building. In these richer sides of town, people actually believed the anti-Mystic propaganda: they'd likely be calling her into the Pacis already for suspicious behavior. Good. That cleared the area. "Any minute now..." She muttered.

"Alright." Elya looked out at the street, pulling her jacket back on. "So it's go time, then."

She glanced at his bags of items. "What are all those?"

Elya blinked, surprised. "That was fast."

Breathe in... breathe out... Breathe in... hold... breathe out... Elya kept her eyes closed and controlled. She harmonized. Every piece of her being was in balance. In... out...

"The streets around here have hundreds of shadows. They could be anywhere."

"They aren't inside," Elya replied immediately. "They're watching the streets. Not long before John before gets back, they'll have the Pacis clear the area to reduce the number of witnesses."