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Post by Sharei on May 25, 2018 16:20:38 GMT -6
"Focus isn't something I lack."
On the model one of the winged figures, off by itself and momentarily hidden by a wall from the rest of its brethren, disappeared. No scream or alerting sound accompanied it, and none of the figures below reacted to the loss. No body remained because Isaac had seen the opportunity and taken it whole into the Outer Dark, a snack for his other self. Even with dimension-hopping abilities, it would take them a second to realize what had happened, and by then it would be too late.
"My abilities are not something I can simply set and leave. However, I can perform up to five tasks - tasks, not things - without losing focus on any of them. Covering us, monitoring the trap and maintaining the map for you is well within my capacity." He probably hadn't needed to say the whole of it, but it served a dual purpose. 'Yes, I can support us, but also here is the scope of my attention and ability. You may need to know this in a pinch.'
Isaac stared at the map for a half-second more. He knew what he had to do, and while it conflicted with his usual pride, the situation demanded it. There was nothing wrong with going where your skills would best be used.
"Umbrakinesis," he said shortly. "Animation, strengthening and general control of shadow. I can open portals to the Dark, which eats things dumped into it. Impact force, meaning I can hit really hard but I can't lift a car. Low key regeneration, and I'm pretty durable. 360 degree, 4th-dimensional reconnaissance. Very basic hypnotism. Immunity to illusions or telepathy. Also, if I can get my hands on one of these angels up close, I can take their energy and kill them that way for a strength and power boost."
The map lifted from his hand and floated to Sarkany's left, situated slightly ahead so that he could see it without having to turn his head. There it remained in the Icarim's orbit, where it would float perpetually until dispelled. When the map had settled, Isaac's visor reflected Sarkany. "Sunlight will burn me if I lose this suit even without the smite. You're more familiar with the targets and can move more freely. I'll follow your lead and act as your beta for now. Tell me what you need."
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Post by MP on May 26, 2018 23:30:45 GMT -6
Sarkany winced slightly at the first disappearance. It wasn't sympathy for the angel exactly, but he couldn't help a glance at its partner. Even now, even where angels were concerned, he was a bonded first and foremost. One of the figures had halted its advance. It stood there, faint flutters of shadow indicating minuscule twitches of movement. Its companions had not reacted to the initial disappearance, but the nearest pairs moved toward the Severed, reacting to whatever distress it had betrayed. He wondered whether they felt the loss as acutely as beings of flesh and blood, and then pushed the thought from his mind.
"Try not to close with them. They have an aura," he said, running a mental tally of the kuwha's abilities. "I don't know if it's sunlight, but it burns like any other source. Auras aside, they'll be armed and in pairs, and very well trained. Spears, a bow if we're unlucky - soul damage, far as I can tell." His mouth quirked faintly. "No trouble for a vampire, I'm sure."
He turned to the map again, scanning the figures there. The distraction had bought them moments perhaps, but there was very little time.
"I'll place the loops here, here, and here." He poked the map at various choke points on the second floor, a birdlike jab. "They take a few seconds to make, and I have to place them in person. I'll need you to delay them if they advance too quickly. From here, I'd imagine, with your sunburn problem."
"Now," and in spite of the looming silence, the pressure of his tightening chest, Sarkany was grinning as he glanced up. There was something faintly savage in it - a little too much of the fangs. "If you set your spikes along the floor here," he patted a broad stretch of room on the second floor, "I'll open the loops to the ceiling. It takes the yoskra a moment to get their wings out. With luck, we'll cripple the ones that survive the fall. And less work for you."
He might have detailed his own abilities, given time. But they were out of time. The yellow eyes fixed on Isaac's, the fear in them repressed for now beneath cool purpose and intent. He only awaited the kuwha's confirmation before he left to place the commands.
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Post by Sharei on May 28, 2018 22:33:04 GMT -6
A nod was the only confirmation that Sarkany received, but that silent gesture was enough. Isaac put the sound of the voak's fading footsteps out of mind and turned to the task at hand.
It was a simple plan on paper, but in practice, there was nothing easy about it. They were out of time and Isaac had to somehow buy them more; one minute, the voak had said, and that was being stingy. The first problem with the plan was that neither of them had even thirty seconds. The angels were closing in - he could feel them on the east stairwell and another pair coming up some stacked crates toward the south. Others, always in pairs, moved about poking noses into half-finished rooms and tucked away corners on the first floor.
The only good thing about the situation was that they didn't seem to know exactly where Sarkany had chosen to hide. Isaac closed his eyes, stretched out his senses, let the physical drop away. He felt the sharp angles and the smooth, cool surface of metal and stone, skirted stripes and squares of sunlight and touched over the creatures that moved in and out of the shadow. One had long hair tied back in a bun; another was slighter of frame, though still tall, bigger than a human was typically. Their clothing fluttered, loose and airy. The edges of their swords were sharp.
It was no surprise to Isaac, who could feel their eerily calm expressions in the dark, that when he knocked over an entire stack of bundled wood on the other side of the compound that each and every one of them turned their heads. The cacophony of noise echoed, covering Sarkany's already light footsteps as he darted around below.
These angels were not taken in lightly by the ruse, though. Four pairs were dispatched to investigate. That left two remaining pairs, one of which was still in the stairwell nearest where Sarkany had gone down. The distraction would buy them another two minutes with the others, but these two...
A stray cat wandered into a shadow nearby seeking solace from the scorching sun. Isaac shrugged mentally and with a flick of shadow dropped it on the head of one of the two angels, all startled hissing, puffed fur and angry claws.
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Post by MP on May 29, 2018 0:13:57 GMT -6
The whisper of a footstep. The brush of a palm. Sarkany put his hand to the concrete, an almost tender touch. It wasn't enough to say the words. You had to understand them, to weave them like a song, like an argument, convincing reality to be what it wasn't. Or what it should be. This space was flat and grey like any other. It could be here. But it could just as easily be...
There.
He drew his hand back, satisfied. The next point was nearest to the stairwell. The last one. He listened for the angels, moving on silent steps. A whisper of fabric below. A silken tone to the air, like music. It made his stomach twist to feel it again. But he drew closer, closer. A quick glance at the map, his every sense straining. Then his hand was on the stairtop, his eyes fixed on the landing below, staring through it. Forget the tension. See the room. The new smoothed floor. His pupils hardly narrowed as a caterwaul erupted on the level below. One second. Two seconds. Three. The command drained from his fingertips, and he faded back from the stairwell. It was done.
Sarkany was back on the third floor in moments, a lean grey shape on the landing. He might have simply signaled after placing the last loop - assuming the kuwha even needed the prompt - but they hadn't agreed on a sign, and he didn't fully trust their communication yet. Or even the man, come to that. Besides, the farther away from the angels, the better.
"Hmm," he said approvingly, noting the blip of a tiny feline shadow darting off the map. "He was good company."
And then he was silent, watching the angels' progress. Watching the kuwha, discretely, from the corner of his eye. What was the man's angle, coming here? Why the risk? Sarkany couldn't afford to doubt or hesitate with the trap's jaws closing - with their own trap primed. Yet he couldn't afford complacency either. He tucked the thoughts away and watched the images move forward. And forward. And then, abruptly, blink.
He never saw the shadows spike, never saw them shear and bite through flesh. But he heard the screams - screams as angels made them. A sound that was not sound. An impression in the air like a heat shimmer, like glass breaking, beautiful and discordant. On and on until it shattered to nothing. Sarkany was smiling, a small, private expression like the curve of a knife. It widened a fraction as the next group of shadows hit the second loop. These didn't shred like the first ones - they'd been forewarned, had their wings and halos out. He knew that by the sting. But oh, the music. He was glad to have heard it, if nothing else went right.
"Can you see the state of them?" he asked softly.
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Post by Sharei on May 29, 2018 1:11:48 GMT -6
There was a certain level of pleasure in a well-executed plan. It was the thrill of the hunt combined with the smug satisfaction of being more clever than someone else. A scream was an equally beautiful thing, full of vibrancy and music. The screams of angels were particularly sweet because they were not screams at all, but rents in the soul which bled pain and suffering.
But then the rents were ending and no more were forthcoming. The second group pulled back before his blades could catch them, and then there was a light, searing and hot which blasted away his shadows beneath the force of their light. It happened so suddenly that Isaac experienced a moment of whiplash as he was thrown back into his own body, senses ricocheting between the physical and the metaphysical. When Sarkany asked his question, Isaac had to force himself to concentrate on it. Now was not the time to be disoriented.
"Of the first group one managed to survive unscathed and two more are badly wounded. Their wounds will probably prove fatal. Five dead," Isaac murmured back, his whisper nearly lost in his helmet but for the quiet of the room. "The second..."
He stretched out his senses but it was so bright in the room that it stung when he tried to get near. The underside of an arm, stark and sharp in relief against the light; the curve of a cheek; the ruffle in a skirt; the edge of a wound. Isaac pushed harder, struggled for a better picture, but the light coming from the angels was too much. It burned after images in his mind, like staring at the sun too long, and he was forced to pull back with a soft tch.
"I can't get a read," he said. "I sensed some wounds, but they could have been superficial or serious - I couldn't tell. The light is making the shadow beneath them deeper, though, so their locations are as accurate as ever."
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Post by MP on May 29, 2018 2:20:43 GMT -6
Wonderful. Wonderful. It could not have gone better with a direct intervention. Both together, both at once. That was fitting and right. They were feisty things. But how would it go from here? How long before the numbers overtook them?
Which one would go first?
Sarkany nodded, eyes on the map as he tallied the remainder. His gaze flicked to the window, checking for shapes against the skyline. Back to the shadows again. He spoke very low and quickly, aware of the seconds bleeding past.
"It's not enough to kill them. They've tethered their world to this one - one anchor to their end, one anchor to ours. We can kill as many as we like, but until we break that tether, they won’t stop."
The shapes on the map were moving, leaving the dying behind. They weren't progressing anymore, weren't searching. It almost looked as if they were retreating, moving toward the exits and ledges, halos flaring. Sarkany watched them carefully.
"Down by the east harbor - that's where their anchor is. We kill it, we end this. The distance is too much for them without it. It hurts them to stay here. We get to the harbor. Then we need to - ”
He faltered, seeing the map. It was like a flock of sparrows startled up from a tree - a bursting flight from the side of the building. The shadows disappeared in a mass from the diagram. Sarkany abandoned it then, trusting to his eyes as he looked to the half gaping wall. Great winged shapes cut patterns in the sky, wheeling, fading.
No, not fading. Not fleeing. Brightening. Their distant shadows blotted almost to nothing as the daylight washed over them. Sarkany's eyes saw farther than those of a human, and he could make out the subtle movement of fingers before the sun, caressing, shaping. The light sang to their touch, sharpening to something alive and deadly. It recognized him.
Sarkany retreated a half step, glancing around them in a lightning search. Plastic covers, metal beams, plywood. Plywood.
"Cover," he said sharply, nodding at it. And then again. "Cover."
They wheeled in the sky like vultures, coming back around even as Sarkany moved. And that terrible massing something came behind them, like a spotlight, like a wave as they dove from all angles toward the building's gaping sides.
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Post by Sharei on May 29, 2018 3:45:39 GMT -6
"Then we need to-"
Sarkany faltered, lapsed into silence.
"Voak?"
But then Isaac saw it too, the way the building was suddenly empty of anything but them, and it would have brought welcome relief but for the alarm bells it was ringing. There was no way their little trap had scattered their aggressors so thoroughly. Were they regrouping? Isaac let the map disperse and followed Sarkany's gaze into the sky. The brightness hurt his eyes even behind his visor, and that was the first warning sign that something was wrong. His helmets were treated the same way the WDSA windows were, the same way his windows at home were, and it cut regular sunlight and made it painless.
This wasn't normal sunlight, and it was coming right at them.
Sarkany barked an order to find cover, indicated a stack of wood, and ran for it. Isaac turned on his heel and dove for it too, but though he was only a second after Sarkany, it wasn't fast enough. The light hit with such a force that it was like the sky was falling down on top of them, but sideways too, and in from awkward angles and gaps and holes in the walls. Isaac's cry of pain was lost somewhere in the sound of shrieking steel as he was sent into an I-beam holding up the roof, bent around it, and hit the ground. His helmet clattered away down a distant hallway, but Isaac couldn't give it chase. The snapped ribs and searing pain that came with every breath halted him, wasted precious seconds as he struggled for coherency.
Outside, the angels whirled around for a second pass. Isaac felt it coming before he saw it, felt the closing heat, and forced his arms beneath his body and pushed up. The sound he made when bone ground against bone was inhuman, like broken guitar wires and vibration, half a scream and half a feeling, but he couldn't stop. The cover of the plywood was only seven feet away. Three feet would put him in the shadow of it. Five would offer him protection from the light. Pupils slit and animal intensity in his face, he threw himself toward the cover and wasn't entirely sure if he would make it.
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Post by MP on May 29, 2018 15:23:02 GMT -6
Sarkany hit the stack at a sprint, shoulder-first into the topmost board, skidding so sharply that the knees tore off his jeans. He didn't have time to raise the plywood fully, but it was braced on his shoulder like a shield, like a turtle's shell when the first rays struck. He paled as the force crashed through the building, knowing it couldn't burn them in the shadows. Not caring. A silent rush like a wave overhead. A ringing in his head. A cry that was not his own.
He glanced around and saw the kuwha on his side in the sunlight, saw the angels fold their wings in a dive as the man fought to his feet. Too slow - too slow. Sarkany tensed as he realized it, pupils narrowing. The light was building, heating on his fingertips as he took hold of the board. There wasn't time to feel it. He moved in a kneeling lunge, board held upright, extending the shadow of the plywood to meet Isaac halfway as the second strike fell.
Sarkany withdrew his fingers with a shudder, bracing the board on his shoulder instead. He couldn't feel his right hand. The dead hand was as useless as ever. But he turned without so much as a hitch for breath, weight falling back on numb palms as he kicked out at the shadowed face of the board in a jackrabbit motion.
He was almost too late. There was a thunk as the board went clattering - the embedded point of a spearhead as the whole thing toppled. But that was the only detail Sarkany had time to see, because right behind it was a pair of radiant figures, flared and imposing in the half light, their wings a blazing light at their backs.
So like them to put on a show. He didn’t have it in him to be exasperated. Sarkany was shaking as they advanced, the tremble so bad there was a half second’s hitch as he rose to his feet. The light again, the presence. Unending. Annihilating. He forced his terror down, forced his hands steady as the rearmost angel paused to retrieve its weapon. Just two for now, but the others would be wheeling past for support in another moment, bringing the light with them. If they fought in the open, they were finished. Sarkany retreated a step, backing toward the kuwha.
[ Can you get to the hallway? ] he asked him, thinking of the stretch of temporary wall - the one he’d been sheltering in when the man first found him.
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Post by Sharei on May 29, 2018 16:46:19 GMT -6
Isaac's first attempt to rise was aborted when he nearly blacked out. His sides ached, and the air was so heated with diffused light that it burned his throat with every breath and bit at his cheek and jaw, opening wounds that flecked away into ash. His thoughts were a wall of red pain. Yet the figures advanced, bringing their demon light with them. Isaac knew the answer before the question was even asked. They would give chase and he was not in condition enough to run. Sarkany would not survive without help. They wouldn't make it.
[ No. ]
There was really only one chance of escape. A minuscule, fraction of a chance, more a gamble on chance than a real calculation. He had to time this right. If even the smallest mistake was made they were dead, and he didn't have time to explain. The angels overhead were wheeling back for another pass.
[ Don't run, ] he said through grit teeth. He picked himself up with great effort. Adrenaline made it easier, made the crunch and pop of his ribcage less potent as he straightened out. Sweat poured down his brow and stress knotted his shoulders. [ Don't fight. Trust me or we'll die. ]
The angel nearest them lifted its spear. The edge of the halo's aura was at their toes. There was a great crack from the ceiling, the sound of the supports being cut where Isaac's shadows could reach them. The distraction earned them the precious few seconds they needed. Isaac grabbed Sarkany by the arm and hauled him behind the I-beam that he'd hit in the same moment that the light from the angels overhead descended on them. The shadow cast from it was sharp and strong, a slice of darkness created by the hard light of their smite. He dived into it, took Sarkany with him, and then they were falling, falling, as the cold of the Dark washed over them.
Isaac didn't pick an exit so much as grabbed for the nearest opening that told him it was dark on the other side. His thoughts were spinning, dizzy and heavy and sluggish, and they tumbled out in a heap half on top of one another, frost crystals in their hair. The hard edge of a rail struck Isaac in the back and he let out a pained exhale. The long arm of a scrubber nearly clipped Sarkany in the head. The guts of an old, rusted car wash spread out around them, the doors on either side pulled three quarters closed and rusted stuck. Old, grimy windows looked in on the interior of a sitting area where a coffee machine from the eighties sat on a peeling Formica counter. Stools ripped and worn by the weather littered the floor.
It wasn't ideal, but it was a good mile away in the direction of the harbour.
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Post by MP on May 29, 2018 17:25:54 GMT -6
No sooner had they landed then Sarkany extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and bristles and pushed himself upright. He was shivering, less from the cold than from how close that terrible light had come. Ice crystals shone in his hair, unheeded. He would not go back. He would never go back. For a moment he only sat there, his face in a trembling hand. An unsteady breath. And then another, calmer now. That was as much as he could allow himself. Already an unacceptable lapse. Sarkany shook his head as if to shoo off a fly, scanning their surroundings with more of his usual focus. Alone. Abandoned. They were clear of the light for now. Quite the useful trick. He turned to the kuwha then, looking him over.
"Will you heal?" he asked simply. Yellow eyes flickered over the awkward movements, the labored breaths. Sarkany certainly hoped he would. Not a good sign otherwise.
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Post by Sharei on May 29, 2018 17:38:07 GMT -6
"In time," Isaac said and forced his hands beneath him. It was an awkward movement, ungraceful and stumbling, as he pushed himself against the nearest wall so that he could sit up. His ribs ached and his face stung. He didn't need his senses to tell that the ambient light just before the attack had burned his face. He could feel it all the way down to his core.
If Isaac had seen Sarkany's show of emotion, he made no comment on it.
"Maybe an hour." They didn't really have an hour, so he added, "I will be able to get up in ten minutes. We should mov-nnh... move again then. I've bought us some time but they won't be lost forever."
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Post by MP on May 29, 2018 19:54:05 GMT -6
He looked at the sliver of daylight beneath the doors. A handful of minutes. Not even an hour before it had all gone crosswinds. And now they were supposed to last the day. They really were in the teeth of it. Sarkany could have laughed if he hadn't been so tired. He tested his commands, a vague pulse against the air, and shook his head.
"I've about used up my, ah, magic." The word was grossly inaccurate to what the commands actually were, but at least a layman would hear it and understand. "A few tricks left, but nothing major. Delays and mirages. I won't be able to loop them again."
He was silent for a long moment, running through their options. For lack of something to do, he moved to the far door where he stood as a sentry. Listening. Glancing out in cautious spaces. They needed to get to the harbor, that much was clear. But in broad daylight, hemmed in by sunlight and whatever guards were sure to wait by the anchor? They'd be shredded before they ever got close. No, once the ten minutes were up, they needed to disappear. Keeping in range of the harbor if they could manage it, but he'd settle for simply moving.
"Our best chance is to blend with the crowd, I think. Stay with the traffic." Sarkany was thinking aloud, dusting the last unmelted ice crystals from his hair as he spoke. "I doubt they'll risk exposure so far from home. And they like your humans."
He looked around at Isaac, a wry sideways glance.
"I'm not sure what to do about your face. Walk in the shade, I suppose, but that does limit our options."
He shrugged mildly, the smile only hinting at the corners of his mouth.
"How do you feel about shopping? We could always get you a hat."
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Post by Sharei on May 29, 2018 21:28:28 GMT -6
Isaac laughed, a wet sound that wasn't at all healthy and had a touch of the hysterical in it. "I'm sure I'd look great in a sunhat. Do you think they come in black?"
Sarkany glanced back at him, his attention half on the outside and a half on the conversation. "And here you struck me as more of a top hat man."
"Maybe." Shadow coalesced to the shape of the hat in question like liquid poured into a glass. The darkness shuddered once as the pain momentarily overtook him, but never vanished. He contemplated his creation with feverish eyes and then put the hat on at a rakish angle. "Dashing, but I don't think it protects much. What do you think?"
The other man considered the hat seriously. "Mmm. I see what you mean. Bigger hats for bigger heads."
"And this bigger head saved your sorry ass," Isaac returned. Another lance of pain, this one from something inside correcting, and the hat and the mood were lost in a puff of black smoke and ash. Isaac leaned back against the wall with a suppressed groan. He counted the seconds, anxious for his body to heal enough that they could move and privately considering where they could go. A shopping mall would be ideal as long as it didn't have any skylights. The crowds would make it easier to blend in, but his senses would be dulled by the noise of so many shadows in one place. He'd also be able to grab a snack and replenish lost energy. Isaac's eyes opened to slits, considered his companion, then closed again to blessed darkness.
"So." Casual, but there was nothing casual about the question. "Why are they after you? What was this personal business?"
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Post by MP on May 29, 2018 22:42:26 GMT -6
Sarkany chuckled at the retort, a slightly absent sound. His eyes were on the asphalt outside, on the play of light over the pebbles, to all appearances dismissing the statement. But he didn't deny it. Satisfied with what he saw, he crossed to the opposite door to resume the same careful watch. The seconds crawled by. There was silence between them until the kuwha stirred:
"So. Why are they after you? What was this personal business?"
Sarkany did not turn, did not speak for a long moment. He watched the sunlight. Listened through the distant city hum. Once or twice he thought he saw a flicker over the ground, like the shadow of a bird winging overhead. But it was only a moment. It always passed.
“I was their guest some time ago. For quite some time. They needed something from my...my signature, and I did not know how to give it. They were...not kind in trying to take it.”
A silence. Finally, Sarkany shrugged.
“But I doubt they’re here for me. They’re colonizers, you understand. I tried to close the door on them is all. They didn’t like that."
It was as much as he could say. As much as he could stand to remember. Sarkany looked at Isaac, guessing the next conclusion.
"Sohl's in no danger," he added. "He’s a new Walker. Too fresh for a signature. And once we close the door, it won't matter. They’ll never see him."
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Post by Sharei on May 29, 2018 23:15:43 GMT -6
Isaac could well imagine the scenario that Sarkany alluded to without having to have the rest of it filled in. The answers were more in the silence, the too long pause, the ever so slight hitch of breath so convincingly smothered. It was what Sarkany didn't say that said the most.
"You're more voak than I thought if you assume Sohl is in no danger," he said, staring at the backs of his eyelids and trying to ignore the constant pressure of the boy's thoughts in the back of his mind. It was an open question, trying not to be intrusive in a critical moment but very alarmed. It occurred to him too late that he wasn't controlling his thoughts, was only shielding the brunt of them, and Sohl no doubt had felt his pain. There was no use lying to him and pretending like everything was fine when it was not, but nor could he afford to engage Sohl. By speaking to him now it was almost like inviting him into this mess, and Isaac wasn't prepared to have him here.
"If they find out about his existence they will go after him to get to you," Isaac murmured. "If a grudge and vengeance are what they're after, anyway. The only thing to do is destroy the anchor and send them packing."
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