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Post by anton on Oct 15, 2015 15:20:09 GMT
Anton was discovering something new about him as every second and minute began to roll by. He liked to complain, not outwardly but inwardly. This time around, he wished Berserker would have done his transformation in private. The sound of muscles tearing and bones shifting, fur growing was not exactly pleasant. Perhaps even worse than the sound of bones and flesh being blown away. He shuddered looking at the beast with the small consolation that Mr Hyde hopefully did not forget they were on his side and that they would make for a poor meal. Actually never mind that, he might make for a better meal than the ghouls and he sure hoped that Berserker wouldn't realize that...
It was with some relief that Anton watched the werewolf like figure drop down and away from his general vicinity. Still there wasn't as much respite as he would have liked, Ghouls still climbed up the roof top and to make matters all the more convenient Archer's support was put on hold. Anton had only to glance to realize that the ghosts were also pouring to that building.
If he had any consolation was that Caster was still around. Though his style of magecraft baffled Anton, he wouldn't be able to practice something that relied on self injury but he could not dispute with the potency it should have. He blinked twice, then nodded he had to remember his mother's lessons on medical treatment. He had seen worse wound than those, he could stand the stench of blood."Herstel van de spieren, huid, het bloed terug." Briefly Caster's wounds would glow and the damage was fixed. "That should do it." He said, looking as more Ghouls began to climb up and also as Spirits began to rise up from the ground.
"Caster I can provide healing, I can hold up the Ghouls but my magecraft is not that effective on spiritual beings, I hope you can do something about them." Anton flipped open his tome, his finger traced among symbols and he quickly flipped between pages. He focused on his magical energy "Leegte beurt echte " Caster would have noticed that what Anton summoned was an Ether Clump, a useless piece of magecraft that could only serve as a conductor for prana but not much else.
"Gooien, stok, brand." He waved his hand at the general direction of three Ghouls, the clump of ether began to glow in reddish light. Then a second later fire replaced the clump shooting out, it didn't so much blast the Ghouls as it surrounded them and against logic stick to them as if it was a part of their flesh. "I can do this... I can do this...
Anton began scanning the roof top for more targets. He decided on fire since it was one of the elements he could replenish faster. Though he hoped he would have to use up all of the uses of each concept and element he had stored up.
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Post by Oda Nobunaga on Oct 20, 2015 2:00:12 GMT
The struggle continued on between the beast and the ghosts, their numbers dwindling as they threw attack after attack at him. Balls of prana struck arm, leg, head, torso, but to no avail. Each hit was far from fatal damage, and his body simply rebuilt itself to mend the wound. With each strike he took, the beast struck down another ghost, tearing their forms asunder with clawed hands. It was a whirlwind of blackness drowned out by the sounds of bones snapping and the shrieks of the damned. A grin grew on the face of the beast, a sort of primal joy found in the wanton slaughter he was committing. Another spirit was torn into fading ribbons, as the remaining three shot more prana at his torso. Three solid impacts, but those too amounted to nothing.
Despite his speed being more than enough to dodge the shots, the confined space offered him little maneuverability. More importantly though, time spent dodging was less time to spend killing them, and their attacks were not even worth considering a threat. A groan could be heard from nearby, signalling ghouls coming to join the fray. He turned to face the incoming corpses, but seven impacts on his back then caught his attention. From the wall came seven more spirits, their translucent bone hands coming through first. In total, ten spirits and at least twenty ghouls. The beast-like grin only grew, and the red of his eyes flashed for a moment.
""
And with a primal roar of madness coming from his very core, at the top of his lungs, he charged. He swung wildly, each strike finding something to tear through in the cluttered halls. Faded blood stained his hazy form and bits of bodies were flung every which way. A veritable bloodbath, had the ghouls enough blood left to truly bathe anything. At the end of his mad dash to the other end of the hall, only five ghouls remained and the ten spirits still lingered. Perhaps they knew that escape was pointless, or they were more enraged by the mad beast, but they remained and focused their attacks on him.
He of course responded in kind.
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Post by topiltzin on Oct 20, 2015 3:42:26 GMT
Caster breathed out a sigh of relief. Using his Noble Phantasm could be very draining, while the wound was closed, the gash did remove a decent amount of his blood before it’d been drained, and that was something that couldn’t be healed, not even by someone else. “Thank you, Master. I truly appreciate it.”
Turning back to face the enemies that were slowly approaching, he was facing a conundrum. Purely ethereal enemies, such as the wraiths, did not have bodies. There wasn’t anything to heal, no life processes to correct, or imbalances to fix. Conversely, there was nothing he could do directly to oppose them. And, considering Archer made it clear that he was unable to lend assistance at present, it was a very tricky situation indeed.
Of course, he could simply use more offensive magics. Call upon bolts of lightning or cutting gales to toss these wraiths aside. But...he himself could not bring himself to do that. Such were the domain of the Serpent, and not for him. If he was going to be doing -that-, he would need to call upon his Noble Phantasm. Perhaps this would be a situation where it was necessary to save his master, but he was not so sure they were without recourse just yet.
The sight of the mana conductor...and more importantly, the fire spell his Master cast, was a bolt of inspiration. Joining the completed spell, Caster force-fed it prana in huge amounts through the conductor, transforming the sticky fire that torched the Ghouls frames into a firebomb of around B rank. It was a tricky business: it would have been far easier for Caster to merely create a spell of fiery devastation of his own at A rank. However...such things were not for him. Seeing it wipe the wraiths away, Caster was satisfied.
“If you will continue to assist me, let us make sure that the mission is successful. I am sorry for needing to rely on you like this, please, forgive me.”
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Post by Ashwatthama on Oct 20, 2015 23:16:59 GMT
Thwak. Thwak. Thwak.
The rather comedic noise of arrows embedding themselves in soft objects resounded through the air as Ashwatthama made as rapid work of the spirits as he could. Three fell as they lunged at him before he had to dodge to the side, narrowly avoiding several spiritual projectiles the other spirits fired in turn. The nine remaining shades spread out into a circle around him, continuing their volley and further complicating the matter of avoiding the projectiles as they began to come from each direction. One grazed the archer's should, prompting him to fire a retaliatory shot at the offending shade, sending it spiraling off the building, dispersing into dark smoke as it impacted the ground.
"Tch."
Finding the best defense to be a good offense, the Indian Archer bounded backwards to keep all the shades on one side of him. As more spectral attacks fired off from them at Ashwatthama, he fired his own volley back. Arrows pierced through bolts of prana, shattering the meager projectile constructs as they hurtled through into the crowd behind, putting another four of the shades out of their miserable existences. The remaining four, realizing their predicament, quickly darted forward after the archer, attempting to close the gap before he could dispatch the rest of them.
A screen of spectral orbs fired at Ashwatthama was the advancing cover of the spirits, but it did not save two of them from the arrows of the Archer as they were pierced and destroyed. The final two closed into melee, swiping at the bowman from within his bows ineffective range. Some minor cuts on his calf and arm later, both shades found themselves on the ground, arrows firmly planted in their chests through a more direct method; Planting them there with his hands, stabbing the offending specters and causing them to vanish in another puff of black smoke on the surface of the roof.
He surveyed the area briefly, seeing no other oncoming immediate threats, and turned back to his assignment. Catching eyes on the encroaching enemies on the roof that Anton and Caster no found themselves on, it was only another moment or so before Archer's hail of covering fire resumed, firing arrow after arrow at the enemies infesting the roof or on their way up to it.
"Resuming Covering Fire."
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Post by anton on Oct 23, 2015 0:35:22 GMT
Anton kept his cool in the face of danger, still he was surprised when Caster used his medium to cast spells with. The raw power of Caster's spell was enough to utterly break his mass of Ether. "It's fine, I'm just glad I don't have to be dead weight." He said, it wasn't said in a self demeaning way but as an observation. He turned his attention to another Ghoul and prepared to create more Ether. "Leegte beurt echte." He chanted once more, producing another clump of ether. "Leegte beurt echte" He wasn't used to spamming them, but he saw that his ether clumps had no way of conducting the raw power of Caster's spells, so he switched to the tactic of giving more means to continue casting spells. "Fire seems to be working against them, so I'll give the clumps the same effect!"
He flipped back a couple of pages from his Grimoir and once again attached the effect of pushing/throwing and sticking with the element of fire. At the very least, it would give Caster two more shots at the Spirits.
Thankfully as he finished the casting of both of the fake components into the barely useful mold, Arrows began to rain down once more.
Anton breathed a breath of relief as the amounts of enemies began to dwindle. Still he couldn't relax just yet, there were still enemies pouring through the wholes and even the floor. Despite the horrible noises coming from below where no doubt Berserker was dealing with a sizable portion of the Ghouls and Ghosts.
For safety measures, he prepared two more additional Ether Clumps and once more added the element of fire to them with the concept needed to make them fly out and attach to their enemies. Just in case Caster once more overloaded the Ether Clumps.
The alarm from the Probe also began to dwindle. Meaning that the peak of the surge was subsiding. But that did not mean that the Vagrant Spirits that were already summoned would vanish with it. At the very least, they should stop spawning. Or that was what Anton hoped that could happen.
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Post by Oda Nobunaga on Oct 24, 2015 1:40:51 GMT
Ten sets of ethereal claws pierced into his body at once, the spirits realizing their shots held little impact and trying to simply tear the foe apart. A fanged grin formed from ear to ear on his obscured face, and blood began to leak from each wound while their claws still sat in the wounds. The pain was a stimulant and a reminder to the madman; a reminder of life and how it felt to be alive. The blunt impacts from the shots before held pain, but they were not the same sort of pure pain coming from having your flesh pierced and your blood spilled. To him, they were reminders of all the indulgences he thrived in back when he was alive.
And making a wide sweep of his claws to either side, he came to be reminded of the mad joy of his other indulgences. The spirits were torn and evaporated into nothing, the blood now flowing from his wounds freely. It did not last long of course; his muscles and flesh stretched and resewn themselves together to build the body again in its unharmed state. The ghouls charged in after him, but he quickly dealt with them on reflex. Their bodies fell to the ground in pieces, leaving the Berserker momentarily alone in the hall.
His eyes fixed themselves on the view from the nearby window. A land of death that the good doctor abhorred. A terrible place that only embodied the end of all things. To the darkness that is Mr. Hyde though, it was actually a pleasant view. It couldn't quite be explained, but it likely had to do with him being all that is horrible in Dr. Jekyll. A natural opposite in almost every regard, except perhaps one. The shared desire of the duo, to be a bringer of justice. A wish that only the Grail could grant, through allowing him another chance. How this bled onto Hyde was an oddity, but not one he had the ability to explore.
It is likely because of this though that he began to walk down the hall, seeking more of their foe to slaughter. The spirits seemed to be leaving him alone for the time being.
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Post by topiltzin on Oct 24, 2015 6:25:56 GMT
As Archer’s covering fire resumes, Ce Atl breathes a sigh of relief as the harder-to-kill enemies begin to subside. Likewise, the crashing and shattering from down below seemed to quiet down as well, making things seem like they could eventually become peaceful once again. Even the blaring alarm from the sensor seemed less incessant. Perhaps he could begin to take a breath soon, while this much effort was far from an exertion, the last thing he wanted was for an errant foe to harm his Master.
Still, such considerations were not quite present yet. Continuing to rip the Ghouls apart and using the prana-infused blood inside of them to spear through the Wraith’s spiritual cores was an added way he found to cull the ghostly hordes aside from detonating spell-bombs his Master prepared for him. He was proud of his Master already, he caught on quick to the nature of the spells available to him, and immediately assisted as best he could. Such an adaptable user of magic would have been an invaluable member of the priestly order in his time, alas, such things were not a consideration any longer. Alongside Archer’s help, he was able to keep the enemies from reaching within twenty feet of his Master and the machine they were tasked to protect.
As the enemies get to easily managable numbers, Ce Atl begins diverting some attention to scrying through the building to see if there are any clumps he should try and nudge Berserker towards. “Whatever the wind touches is the knowledge of the Serpent. The Serpent and I are one.” The building seemed greatly depleted, by far the largest clump of spiritual energy was unmistakably Berserker. Still, enemies were present, though they should be able to continue defending it without the inherent risk of trying to plant a suggestion within Berserker’s head.
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Post by Ashwatthama on Oct 25, 2015 1:22:00 GMT
It seemed the worst of it was over. The tide of seemingly endless shades had dwindled under his barrage, and now his hail of arrows had all but ceased, only the occasional shot every few moments or so as he began to snipe exposed targets. Most had fled his sight several moments after he had resumed firing, presumably realizing they were exposed to the Archer and thus easy targets. Those whom had not had been swiftly dealt with. Now he could only peer into the building as best as he could, hoping to catch a glimpse of a moving target long enough to dispose of it.
He was so focused on his task he almost sent a shot careening into Berserker as caught a glimpse of Hyde's monstrous, werewolf-esque form. It took him half a moment to recognize the beast as anything resembling the calm, astute Doctor he had seen before, only vaguely recognizable. As a matter of fact he wasn't entirely sure it was Jekyll, but he couldn't take the chance.
"Caster, I am moving to your position."
It seems his time at a distance was at an end. Archer could hardly see any targets remaining from where he was, and new spirits no longer seemed to be emerging into the campus grounds. Regrouping was the most efficient course of action. Leaping off the building into the campus grounds between buildings, the Indian Archer turned around to scan the floors that had previously been beneath him. Not seeing any easy shots against clearly hostile enemies, he turned away again and began moving up the building his compatriots resided upon, scaling the side of the building.
Arriving at the roof, he wasted little time disposing of any remaining enemies breaching the surface of the roof as he made his way toward Anton and Caster at a rather leisurely pace.
"How much longer is left on the Probe?"
He did not broach the subject of Berserker; His lack of presence with the Anton and Ce Atl only confirmed that the thing he had seen before was their fourth companion.
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Post by anton on Oct 25, 2015 18:52:12 GMT
With far more relief than he anticipated, Anton's legs nearly gave out. They didn't, he wasn't that backboneless. But still he couldn't help but stifle a little laugh full of relief as the numbers of enemies began to dwindle. He also wasn't the type that celebrated by shouting. But he was relieved, he was smiling with satisfaction. He was also glad that his support was useful for enough Caster to remove the more tricky Spirits.
Specially when Archer showed up again and quickly dispatched any remaining Ghouls and Vagrant Spirits. His return also reminded Anton of the probe and it was just now he realized that the alarm of the probe had shut off. He briskly moved toward the large object and sat by the panel. "Looks like a minute and counting down." He said, looking back at Archer. He was a little surprised at how quickly time had flown, things had not quite been smoothly but he was definitely glad that their mission didn't become more rocky.
Now all they had to do was wait for Berseker to finish clearing out the building or to calm down enough to return to his more sane position. "Looks like this surge even allowed the Probe to gather more data, the researchers back on Chaldea are gonna have their hands full with this." Anton said, waving his hand at the general direction of the Diviner Probe. He sighed, realizing that he wouldn't be saying goodbye to the probe after they got back to their own time.
"Anyway, hopefully Berseker has finished his rampage." Anton's gaze moved from the holes on the floor back to the screen, the timer and then to the readings the Probe provided.
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Post by Oda Nobunaga on Nov 1, 2015 2:42:30 GMT
The crimson eyes of the berserker turned upwards as he felt a presence land upon the roof. It felt different from everything he'd run into so far. The ghouls were nothing more than obstacles and the spirits were there, but much weaker and more like a mist in terms of presence. This was a full body, a full soul; it was likely a Servant. There had already been one on the roof, but he knew that one was a "friend". The other he could not immediately recognize, only in "what" could his instincts guide him. A possible foe, possibly a friend, but with multiple floors between them there was nothing else he could determine.
Such is why, from the broken staircase, the beast burst onto the rooftop scene. A much larger figure than Jekyll, his clouded head turned to let his eyes scan each body on the roof. The one he knew had to be protected, the one he knew to be an ally, and the third. His glowing gaze met each for a moment, stopping longer on the third than the others. His body was hunched forward, a mix of ready to charge and at rest as his clouded mind gauged the situation. Something nagged him from the depths of his mind, telling him it was a "friend". His clawed hands resting at his side, he stood up straight before snapping to motion.
""
Letting out one last feral roar, claws reaching out to his sides, his body shrank down back to its normal size. The process was much quicker than his initial transformation into the beast, and was more akin to an implosion compared to his previously explosive change. Compressing back into the shape of Jekyll, the last thing to vanish was the black haze obscuring him, perhaps fortunately for their Master. As if to seal the deal, the man once again lacked any kind of presence as a Servant. With a small sigh, he reached into his coat and pulled out his glasses.
"I'm back, friends. I hope things were a success." Jekyll commented with a smile, his glasses once again resting on his face. The only sign that this was even the same thing that charged down into the building were the random tears in his shirt from the claws of the spirits, as his body was completely unharmed. The doctor did not seem to take much notice of the damage to his outfit though, simply taking it as the norm for returning from his little trip to the subconscious. He would have to change upon their return to Chaldea.
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