ProfetessaOscura
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Everything posted by ProfetessaOscura
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The woman watched Cadenza and tsked her tongue. She resumed her crocheting, as if nothing had happened.
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((Edited!))
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((I assume? People were brandishing knives and crossbows while invised?))
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((Nah, you can skip the fight.)) After a long and drawn out escape, the fugitives escaped. Cruz, however, did not escape without a mark on his reputation. Primrose, his most ardent advocate for innocence, had been brutally attacked and was recovering at a hospital from a minor head trauma. Several guards had been shot, albeit not fatally. The city had made an unprecedented ruling; Cruz was condemned, wanted dead or alive, preferably dead. Although most with a brain assumed he had help of some sort, some attributed all the miraculous attacks and shots and weaponry to the individual, and curfew was enacted. No one was to travel alone at night, for their own safety.
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((They got out of the room with closed doors?))
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The guards rounded all the people in one corner, then began swinging their weapons wildly, frantically, hoping to hit real person. The immobile lawyer on the floor proved that physical contact was something that could be achieved.
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"My students may continue their fights," Vespyr said in his rough, torn voice. He lifted back up to the wings, where his friend was. "Violence is not necessary in many circumstances, my friend. But there are times."
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"A man approaches you with a knife, then forces you into an iron maiden. Instead of dying a long, prolonged death, we need to fight before the door is closed on us, my friend. With the hole in the island defenses that my absence provides, We need to retaliate now, if we are to save anyone. We must cut away the rot to save the life. We must not die so another will be pleased with our absence. If I have lived a life a cruelty, then I will do what I can to redeem that life."
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“Then I will not strike,” Vespyr said quietly.
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Vespyr tilted his head. “Such as?”
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Vespyr nodded his head. He didn’t expect the fight to drag on at all.
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The guards flooded in as the doors slammed, and the cry went out. “The convict’s killed his lawyer!” The panicked crowd shrieked, and the guards of the courthouse flooded forward. There was confusion, but there was only a matter of time before the panicking crowd found the shrouded people by touch.
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The crowd of the courtroom went WILD with screams of shock. The serial killing murderer just vanished in thin air! Surprisingly, Primrose immediately lurched at him and, fumbling, tried to get the man in a chokehold.
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Primrose bristled. She thought she’d heard something. She looked over at the man sitting next to her, brow furrowing.
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“And with a tad of perspective and an attitude adjustment,” she added, eyes narrowed. The matches are to be put on hold, the wind said, the siren speaking. He hovered listlessly down to the center of the arena. I have a friend who wishes to demonstrate a point. Vespyr nodded up at Brother Sparrow. Would you like a private bout?
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The woman's blunt ice spikes slammed into the pillar of ice, and the blunt tips left indentations crushed into the surface. The woman's maker's mark. The old lady smiled as Cadenza's pillar began to shift from side to side. "I see enough. When presented with a locked door, you would crush the door in its frame to pass through instead of use your ice to make a key. A powerful ability is only as powerful as the wit of its wielder, child." She frowned slightly, as if deciding perhaps she was insulting the child too much, without actually providing any praise. "You could go far, with the right instruction."
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((Look pretty, be sassy, escape with your perceived partner in crime.))
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((Your post, btw))
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Vespyr nodded. “Allow the combatants to end their bouts, then.” He was wary, now. The brother had hinted at a dark and murderous past. Vespyr hadn’t felt it in his place to demand the man’s history.
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((Wanna get mentored to level up? I’m thinking this old granny is a retired admiral who might take a shine to Cadenza. Like a Toph-Korra training relationship.)) ”I do not think a fight with me would show you much of anything, and I do not wish to make you suffer or violate your personal beliefs of non-violence,” Vespyr said, even while removing his suit jacket.
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"You don't think creatively," the woman complained, intercepting the snowball with a needle-like spire of ice. "You treat your power as if it is a force, something to bully someone down, push them over." The woman stomped one foot forward. Several bladed needles long and sinuous, like javelins, shot forward on threads, threatening to impale Cadenza, had she not seen the bulbous blunt tips at the end. The woman did not, after all, want to kill her.
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The lady didn't seem to pay her much attention, instead fishing out a knit sweater. It began to unwind and unravel in the air, its yarn weaving between the spires of ice, knotting them all together, like a spider's nest in a thicket of thorns.
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((This is the stuff she turned into rough terrain. Stamping something allows her to control what is stamped.))
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She tsked her tongue, as if disappointed, then lifted her hand. The ice shifted and formed a ring of spikes, long and spindly needles, becoming a defensive barrier growing from the ground around her. She seemed not in the least bit concerned, and quietly rummaged into her bag.
