Tal'grem: The Definition of Hatred

23:42] Hunting interrupts. They spy a person treading far too close where they shouldn't.

"My, my." Far too suddenly did they leave their little hunting ground. "You aren't where you're supposed to be." A pair of crimson, serpentine hues meet the wandering traveler.
(Jianyu Xi)
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[23:48] The crellus were growing too troublesome; reason to flee. The man took to sprinting to trees for cover from their slashes and assailments, though - it'd eventually lead to his flight into the depths of the stygian forestry known as the Dreadwoods.

It had to be decades, if not centuries since it had reputable word on its dangers - vastly outdone by rumors surrounding shadowmire. Though, the dangers had never vanished; merely, they had reared, cocked-on, and readied for prey to fall too close to its maws.

A feminine voice cooed to the Tal'grem, pausing him amidst his heavied breathing.
"Huh?" This was, the last place he'd expect someone to be.

A monster?! He whipped his head around to find... Two eyes of vermillion, seemingly shining in contrast to the dim helscape. Far more serpentine to even the most devout of fanatical basilisk students: Predatory in nature.

"--and who are you to say?" He answered back with false confidence. Whilst they were certainly no monster, they had the faceless radiance of one. One such presence that shot trembles down his very spine, and budded goosebumps across his bare skin.

The masculinity he sought to boast, seemed overshadowed by her ambiguity. Muscularity certainly wasn't imposing over this entity in the slightest...
Was it...
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[23:52] A cottage in the Dreadwoods oft has a chimney billowing out with steam. Its inhabited, of course, and its owner is hostile.

Alas, with the rise of the Shadowmire, many have placed the threats of the Dreadwoods in the backs of their mind. Foolish.

"And who are you to question it, mh?" Calculated steps draw nearer, their bow already drawn from hunting. Clawed digits merely rest at its thick, Orichalcum bow. Are they a monster? No.

Yet those crimson hues burn bright. Pupils thin dangerously upon the man. In no way is his form imposing in the slightest, not to this dreadful, aging woman.

"It would do you good to turn around and go home." One warning, it's all he gets. Before the rise of Starfall Academy were they one of many creeping Basilisk that should not be bothered.
(Jianyu Xi)
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[00:06] Homework, homework, homework! The nature of a teen that worked to forsake the at ease stagnation of sitting idly by while letting all of those pointless classes pass him without sharing the information he rightly deserved. All of those who slacked off took the easiest work they could without a single thought for how somethings that were difficult, were rewarding.

After all their traveling proved fruitless, a more dangerous option had to be taken if they were ever to succeed with a restriction for instigating purposeful harm. There was to be no slicing and dicing, no thievery or disrespect of the dead, and worst of all... Nothing on academy ground.

Subsequent to their aimless wandering of the place, they found themselves in an endless maze of mauve that eased up the restrictions, much to the guilt of Noiret. Two figures other than them were standing an uncomfortably close distance, perhaps another duo seeking trouble?

Eitherway, an expressionless disguise was drew from his pocket and wrapped around his fretful head, the likeness of a fox staring at the two. Hidden at the entrance of end of the cave, Noiret's rapier was drawn. In spite of that - the existence of a more remorseful side was still very present.
(Noiret)
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[00:09] It sure was hard finding some flesh to delve further into what Trik had described to that class. Looking and looking mindlessly eventually brought them back to a place they had prior thought had no inhabitants.

Looks like they were wrong.

Silence overwhelms the overtly jittery girl. She watches as she eases closer to Noiret. Tapping him on the back to let him know without words. If things were to go down. She was ready to either fight back or run as fast as possible from the situation.
(Glissando Legato)
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[00:19] The Tal'grem had come across many grim situations, but this had been far more fierce and direct than the majority of the others. The difference was, this was... One entity. Judging from the looks of things, they were a single entity - that wasn't to say he had any advantage...

That was, until the others arrived.
If only he knew them, perhaps he'd more confidently confide in them. The glow in the woman's eyes however, was something new - something unlike anything he'd witnessed before.
It wasn't like she was glaring at him, nor ogling his physique.

No.

She was piercing the mortal coil, to see beyond the windows to the soul. What exactly was this woman? What sort of magic was capable of this?
It was as though every instinct in his body screamed at him to get away from her.

"... You're..." His lips moved before he could think, almost as though he wasn't thinkingfor himself.
"You're... Right." What? He wasn't acting like himself. This wasn't Axieon, and even he knew it.

Then why? Why was he acting so out of character?

Fear. It dominated all, and hijacked his very personality. Survival was most important after all. He alone, was not exactly capable of surviving whatever -this- was.
The young man fought himself to... Forced himself to...
Break their gaze, turning briefly for the morbid landscape abroad. The mauve trees and desolate lands, yet her gaze seemed to draw him in like a moth to a flame.

So horrified, yet something else drew him back to it.
Something, he couldn't quite identify just yet.

"Wh-... What is this place?" He asked, taking his first step back, arms splayed out with a vague gesture towards those around him - a passive gesture to encourage them to get out of his way, should he need to make a run for it.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[00:47] The man backs down in an instant. Others make their presence known. Children. Nothing truly of note. "Why, these are the Dreadwoods my dear. Murky and swampy, they say demons used to inhabit these lands long ago."

"Beautiful, are they not? Someone may have been mauled where you're standing, cut down, or otherwise killed."

Jianyu shakes their head. Unfortunate, for them, of course. "Without bias, too. That includes children and wanderers. They're more like victims, yes?"

Clawed digits finally give their bow a rest and stow it at their back. Hands shake. They're starting to ache. "Dangerous, isn't it? You shouldn't wander too closely. Shoo, while I'm being kind."

Kindness extends out to these traveling three, even if their reasoning for coming here today are all different. There's a wicked lady in these woods.
(Jianyu Xi)
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[01:05] Noiret's analysis of the intimdating situation at hand looked grim for all except Axeion, his hesitation interpreted as a feeling of unease, dismay, and anxiety easily observed then recognized by the teen. A hand reached for the rapier but feigned it into a scratch at his side, kindred with Axeion's plight.

A fight would be difficult for both Glissando and Noiret, a serpent born out of fear strangling the original plan that he thought of and by extension the improvisation right in that very moment. Those eyes were as red as bloodshed and fit for a killer, someone who dared to make their abode in the Dreadwoods of all places.

Jianyu's behavior towards the three proved that there wasn't a single hint of intimidation or care for what was supposed to be his threatening presence, caring enough to ward them off with the words that were spoken only when one was removing vermin from their territory.

The focus was still forepart to his position and watching the two whilst grabbing Glissando by the arm and moving back, step by step for the sake of maintain the subterfuge despite being perceived as nothing more than prey in her eyes, though not Axieon's.

If allowed, he would move him and the other a considerable distance away from Jianyu, where he'd await the terrified one's arrival.
(Noiret)
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[01:16] Glissando shivers, at the info weaved into the air by Jinayu Xi's mouth. Demons used to inhabit these woods? Children's and wanders victims? This reminded her of the insane talk that the man who assaulted her in the desert.

Her cobalt hues look forward at the woman telling them to shoo. But she can't hold her silence any longer. Feeling a rush of adrenilne in her system as the situation seemingly hits a stand still.

She didn't want to miss out on a potential patient. For herself of Noriet. If she got hurt or caused somebody else to get hurt. They would succeeded with their homework no doubt. .

"While your are kind? Do you own these woods? Are you it's keeper? Because if you are, Then your kindness might be misplaced. Me and my pal have been hanging out here from time to time. I don't intend to quit anytime soon."

Breaking Noriet's hold from her arm. The girl puts on a blank expression. One that was spiraling towards displaying absolute horror.

Somebody had to get hurt. They had wandered far too long to give up on that.
(Glissando Legato)
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[01:23] He was thrown a lifeline, a second chance - The woman was feeling merciful today. Who was to say that wouldn't change. He didn't see much from the others, especially since his eyes seemed locked on her.

"Hey, uuh… Kid?" Axieon sought to interrupt and even hush Glissando mid-speech. "I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, but when you get thrown a lifeline? Don't sink it."

He continued with his slow backpedal, careful not to attempt provoking an unknown force upon his unprepared person. That was that, without much more to add, he intended to outright bail. "Besides, there's a time and place, for everything."

This certainly wasn't how he planned to spend his day. He wasn't ready - at least, he didn't believe himself to be. Would he be stopped? Was this act of mercy genuine? Fate would tell, wouldn't it. The exit would find the Tal'grem turning his back for a healthy jog for the outside world.

(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[01:30] A child peeps up. "Absolutely. These are my woods." And who will deny it? Certainly things get hairy near the cottage itself. "I do hate vistors. They come in and make a mess of everything. They pluck at the grow mushrooms and herbs."

Taking and never giving. "I can do as I please with my kindness- Unless you'd rather I tear out your throat?" They step closer. It can be arranged, surely. Easily, too. A child's neck is a frail thing.

"I can do that, yes! Maybe your legs? Do you like your legs?" Jianyu asks. "Then it's best you find another hang out. If I see you here again, it could very well be your last."

Territorial, hostile. "I suggest you straighten your act in my presence, girl."
(Jianyu Xi)
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[01:44] For the second time, Noiret's means to salvage the situation and persevere was destroyed by something that was out of his control, a completely random variable that turned everything into a mess and much worse due to the terror he felt in that moment.

Glissando was growing cocky and out of place in the eyes of the bigger picture, Jianyu's territorial claim on the place wasn't helping any either, and Axieon was in the initial stages of fleeing. It demanded that for one small change, an entirely new reaction must be taken to reset everything back to square one.

Noiret's sword was drawn not in an instant, but in a sloppy and easily predicted seize in addition to flying straight at the torso of Axieon, his bold yet fearful actions hidden under a wooden façade and solace taken in the fact that his predictions had him leaving one way or another.
(Noiret)
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[01:44] .
(Noiret)
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[01:51] Glissando freaks out. Jianyu Xi's words were intimidating. She saw exactly what she feared would happen. The older woman would call her bluff. Quickly she tries to adjust fire.

"No. No. I'm sorry Miss. I was out of line. I apologize truly. Having you remove my legs or any other further damage to me is something I do not want."

Quickly bowing, Glissando clasps her hands together. As if she was yielding. Trying to apologize.

"However..."

Watching Noiret act in such a way inspires her. Drawing a dagger at Axieon. There wasn't enough space to draw her rifle.

Keeping it pointed at the man. She and Noiret make it clear. They were going to finish their homework. No matter the location.
(Glissando Legato)
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[01:58] However?

Oh, silly them. These children had such clear and hostile intent towards this poor, shirtless man. A rifle rises and a dagger meets him. My, my.

What does Jianyu do? Only watch, for now. Perhaps if things go entirely south will they raise a finger. An amused hum passes through their lips.
(Jianyu Xi)
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[02:07] He was so close, and with eyes hardened on the perceived threat, he felt himself easing up. Now, all that was required, was to turn around... And run.

Then, he could continue onward with his plans.

But what was this?! Noiret seemed to redirect his attention from the wicked woman of the dreadwoods, towards him. It all seemed to happen so fast for someone whom wasn't paying attention.

Surely, it was easily predictable.
Surely, it was sloppy.
However, it had one major advantage that trumped over all skill: The element of surprise.

The strike of a blade carving into flesh splayed vitality in raw fluid form, splashing it to stain stone wall. A shocked expression across the Tal'grem's face reduced his pupils to mere halos in comparison to their former glory, primarily consumed by his sclera.

There was a brief shine of light, but alas, it'd amount to nothing. The blade's strike would reign true, but it would not skewer far beyond the skin, drawing blood to trickle down his mildly chiseled abdomen. There was a subtle sapphire glow, insinuating an active circuit feeding just beneath the surface.

"Wh-... What the..." The words hushed through his breath with an absolute mix of emotions melding beneath the surface:
Confusion.
Fear.
Anger.

Axieon felt so betrayed by those he considered total strangers united by a common threat. To Noiret's misfortunate however, they'd find that the shirtless man's flesh was hard to the blade's prod, at least whilst the glow was active. Both hands clasped at opposing flatends of the blade to pry it aloose from his skin.

"You.... Vile...VERMIN dare to strike upon me when I offer you advice?" He snarled. "Repulsive... Like the rest." A full 180 from his former façade, not to imply his fear had faded - but that he had an entirely new focus.
The blade turned crimson at its fringe was harshly shoved aside, whilst eyes digressed to the rifle drawn upon him.

"You have some nerve..." His eyes digressed back betwixt the two. "The both of you."
The gash made upon his abdomen began to seep. A close call, if he hadn't worked up his focus in time, though... That wasn't to say it couldn't happen again - or worse.

"... I suppose there's no need to bother talking." He hunkered down, assuming an improvised boxer's stance, hands risen albeit pointed for the closest threat.

(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[02:07] * You have been awarded 6 Roleplay Points! *
[02:24] Axieon's resilient and hard-hitting physique once again forced Noiret into a scenario he expected and hated equally.

He took a boxer stance that left him ready for both offensive and defensive, easily shrugging off the initial thrusts of his blade that moved like whirlwind, striking from his right arm to his left in less than a second whilst Axieon shrugged them off. And when his energy faltered, his bulwark lowered for but a moment - Noiret launched his skinny form forward, harassing Axieon with a relentless salvo of slashes against his skin before retreating into the treelines.

Dread and horror soon burned itself out into adrenaline which pushed the erratic movement of a focused teenager into that of a well-trained duelist that hid around the verdant purple that stretched high enough to block out the light.

Words camefrom the only person he could ever truly trust, and then prepared to put the plan into action. Light and downright useless slashes just barely missed Axieon and baited him into the treelines, stone exploding or being expulsed from the ground by dirt to disorient him while the full fury of Noiret's offensive wore him down a considerable amount, a weak point of the heel showing itself amidst the controlled chaos.

It was right there, in that wasted second, that Noiret shook his head and retreated to the other group of murky woods to await his opponent once more.
(Noiret)
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[02:29] Pain.
Every slash against the flesh...
Every attempt to land a punch, only to be sullied by something catching him at his feet.
Every... Failure...
Only leading to his frustration and stagnation, as he was slowly cut down.

What did these people want?
Did it matter? Did he care?
All that mattered was he got out of this, and they suffered for what sin they committed against his person.
The anger that fumed through his body and soul wrought him to physical trembling, between it and the pain. It all felt so synonymous, so pointless to identify from the other stressors. It all pointed to one thing...
One thing that drew Axieon's consciousness apart from his form for just a few fleeting moments.

For just an instant, the world seemed to crawl to a slow. In such period, he'd find himself in freefall amidst a scape of infinitum - blank and vacant, alone with nothing but his thoughts, his insecurities, and his dreams.
"Focus." A faceless voice demanded of him from beyond the veil.
"Not on his blade, but his very being. His movements... His intentions, everything can be felt. Everything can be undone, with only the core needing interpretation."

A deep inhale, and exhale and the Tal'grem's body went lax, drifting into a limber stance with hands held out before him in limp fashion. His body shined of his own blood, but even as vision blurred and fatigue set in, he couldn't let it take him. No, the situation was too enigmatic - too unknown, too deadly.
"I'm not dying here." He spoke aloud, "I do not die unless I will it so." He growled for Noiret to hear. "Today, you face against one of Aeternum. I'll show you exactly what that means." Words likely to become an empty threat, but wounded and bloodied or not - he seemed determined to make good on it. A lean forth, and he took charge, arms gone limp to flail in his face-first dash.

The trees were the duelist's hiding ground? Perhaps, Axieon could use that to his advantage. Mana pumped through his body, leaving earth to shatter at his leap. His target? Not a blind pounce, but a visible tree branch! He was going to take the high-ground? Slight blitzes in speed rendered him to naught but a blur for just brief instances between landing on a branch and kicking off for another, intent on closing the gap between the two.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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 gap and gave the perfect view on his powered up mana circuits.

A blade danced at lightning fast speed, the majority of his attacks missing whilehe attempted to push the mad man's body back, though it was already en-route for collision because of Noiret's too late and too early movement which ended up causing the two to be knocked across the trees an into the ground, a perfect time to flee for Axieon while Noiret's timid body was writhing in pain.
(Noiret)
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[03:05] A successful tackle! But at what cost?

He was aching all over, and riddled with carvings that effectively made his vision wane and sharpen. Trees doubled, tripled, before coalescing back to their former statures. It was an ebb and flow of the soul, straining desperately to keep vitality in check.

This place was dangerous.
These people, dangerous.
All of it, needed to be escaped.

Heavy breathing hastened, body tensed and muscularity strained as the Tal'grem siphoned from what he had left. It was effectively the bottom of his reserves - but it was enough to take another leap for the trees, jetting between branches as he gained distance. The canopies would be his refuge until he'd slink behind the girth of a tree.

One where he'd take his breath, and ease up... Quieting down, and reclaiming the moment.
Who were those people?
He slowly peered from beyond the brush to get a final glimpse at his assailant and encompassing persons.

Noiret.
Jianyu.
Glissando.
Any and all identifiable details singed into memory - an event he would never forget.

No words were needed. He'd act plenty once he had recovered and come across them once more. This wasn't it...
Not his peak.
Not his finale.
No, there was more to be seen of this now provoked ex-academy student.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[03:12] Watching with fear for what might happen to Noiret. The girl begins to worry as the tussle continues. However soon enough it seems that Noiret is victorious. Only for him to be out of commission.

"Damn it! Get up grab him! We have to scuttle through his mana circuitry!"

Aiming her rifle, electricity begins to manifest around its barrel. Before a couple of bullets are shot near what she believes is the center mass of Axieon.

Her cobalt hues move to Jianyu Xi. Who was watching the situation. Despite her rifle still being pointed at the general direction of the man.

This was this woman's territory. Unless the man came towards her suppressive fire. Glissando was planning to grab Noriet and run before they ended up without her fleeting kindness.

(Glissando Legato)
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[03:18] An old man getting his shit kicked in by a child. Embarrassing, truly. To see him dragged away by a bunch of kids would be amusing, yes, but that's no way for him to go.

They hum lightly, debating course of action moving forward. Glissando and Noriet don't linger for long. They forget the old guy and carry out on their way.

Clawed digits rise- The thought crosses.. then ultimately just passes. No use. They didn't find these kids enough to gauge their interest.

"I better not see you here again."
(Jianyu Xi)
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[03:27] He could hear them as he took to the treetops, leaping for freedom. He was horribly battered, however there seemed to be something about them that clawed at his attention. Their apparel - what of it screamed familiarity?
The sound of countless birds chirping was clearly misplaced, soon unveiling itself to be that of lightning magic - manifested as bolts around true projectiles.

One whizzed by, blasting away at bark of a nearby tree. Axieon leaped, only to have another skim his back, earning his snarl. He landed, turning over for a better glance over at the two before it clicked.

"Wait, you two are from the academy too?"
Another blast, before he ducked behind tree as cover, showering the immediate scene with woodchips and sawdust. It was hardly a good idea to idle here much longer, but he had to know exactly -why- they were trying to hard to take him down.

"What sort've psychopathic students are you?" Were the studentsin the other houses so ruthless to one another? Is this how they contended for tokens? Was this what their attack was about? It felt so much more random than that." If only he heard them clearly just moments prior.

Eyes scoured the immediate scape to find: A fallen branch on the ground. Not much, especially since it was never fashioned as a weapon, but it was better than nothing. He lept down from the canopies to scuttle amongst the underbrush, taking at the branch and readying it in the general direction of the rifle wielder.

A slow breath and... Vaulting thrust, and the branch would spiral in retaliation for Glissando. Was it a blatant attack? Or a taunt as he took flight once more? Noriet was a threat, even now. Whether he was likely to catch up to him and finish the job, was not figured just yet.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[03:30] A thought surfaces as the children depart.

"On second thought, if you bring me bags of seeds, you can come with no issue." They oft give children odd jobs. After all, most view them as an intimidating aging lady.

"Now, now, get up and go find somewhere to rest." Jianyu then takes their leave with a light yawn. "I do enjoy receiving letters. Just direct the couriers to the cottage." They soon depart.
(Jianyu Xi)
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[03:33] Glissando continues to lay down suppressive fire. Leading out towards the woods. No doubt if Axieon runs after her he is in for a world of hurt.
(Glissando Legato)
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[03:34] Victory at the cost of his current energy, acceptable unlike the fleeing of their priority target. Noiriet rolled onto his belly and began to crawl away, his sword still in hand and enough energy to pick himself back up and run after Axieon for one last fight in critical condition.
(Noiret)
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[03:41] The woodlands shattered into a constant splinters, shrouding the scene with dust that'd conceal the hand-to-hand combatant, finding and using debris to toss back blindly at Glissando and Noiret.
It was a combination of attempting to open up the gap between them and vengefully retaliate against the attack on his person.

Vision was still blurring and fading, yet through raw tenacity he managed to rush out into a clearing, falling to a single knee. Fatigue was finally catching up, and a fresh warrior would finally witness him in a vast opening - vulnerable.

"Huh... Well, I guess... There isn't much point is talking. Is there?" Droplets of blood dripped to the ground by his feet, acting as a timer before his body would finally succumb to the silent weight of the earth beneath him.

If that timer wasn't bad enough, Noiret was gaining on Axieon. Which meant, this battle was going to be fought against a shooter, whilst constantly playing a dangerous game of tag with the duelist.

"You're not giving me much choice with that rifle of yours."
Hands were drifted forth, taking upon the same lax fighting stance he adopted not too long prior. Readied for an improvised battle scenario.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[03:44] Glissando begins to sing. Her voice changing the pitch of the bullets from small arms fire to large explosions. Holding her rifle at the Low-Ready as she moves around the foliage.

Despite her acapella. Her movement made her an elusive target from the man. Silence encompasses the area for a moment. Before her horrifying serenade continues with gusto.
(Glissando Legato)
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[03:45] Every few attacks or so, Noiret would stab his blade into the ground and pelt Axieon with what was effectively improvised shrapnel, made out of rock and dirt!
(Noiret)
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[03:53] Sprint and charge all he wanted, none of his punches connected. Instead, he'd feel the pelt of small arms singe his flesh, soon evolving into explosions that'd toil his body asunder. Shreds of his pants danced with the wind, and his attempts to take to the trees would be challenged by rocks and dirt disrupting his efforts.

It was all hel.
"They're tearing me apart out here. I'm already banged up, and they both have magic." He grumbled to himself, "That points me at a lethal disadvantage. Unless I figure out how to get around their magi abilities or realize a miracle, I'm in serious trouble."

He had managed to get behind a tree, using it as cover as a cannonade of munitions shredded it apart, turning it into merely bought time.

A deep breath...
Inhale...
Exhale...

--and back into the fray. It was the only way he could find himself getting out of this without being tagged continuously as his back was turned from these two.
The song she sang incremented in volume, winding at his ears and inducing tinnitus. He couldn't take it anymore...
"Shut..." His right fist balled up, glistening at the seams of crimson. "The..." The etched out leylines soon illuminated with sapphire, pulsating at his muscularity expanded in reverence to the energy surging within. "HELL..."

The manifestation whistled its own tune for all ears to hear, winding for a sharp ring as the arm vibrated under the pressure. In that moment, he leaped from his cover to sprint for her, now taking a far more aggressive approach.
"UP!" A glowing fist was reared, prepared for full impact.

Assuming it could strike true, perhaps it'd mean a difference in the battle! Though, that was up for fate to decide.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[03:59] Luckily for him. Axieons anger allowed him to strike a mighty blow on Glissando. Causing the girl to drop her rifle. However in a quick display of brutality, Plasma forms on her finger tips due to the intense vibrations of her voice.

She jams them into the leg of Axeion. Forcing him to kneel before she picks her rifle back up. Beating him with its stock over and over again in the torso.

The most horrifying part? The music stopped.

The only movement her mouth was making was still. A simple smirk. One that could not be moved. This man was already injured. It was clear they needed to bring him somewhere to study.

With one final hit to the mans torso with her rifle's stock. She manages to make him see stars. Forcing his eyes to close giving way to some nap time.

"I have an idea. The sewers are not that far away from here."

It was time.
(Glissando Legato)
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[04:09] It was all hopeless.
No matter how hard he fought, it equated to the same thing.
He wasn't strong enough.
He wasn't fast enough.
He wasn't good enough.

… Such mediocrity, at the hands of teens that he'd figure would be on his side no less? How much more humilating did his life have to turn?
What did he do to deserve this?
Was everything he believed in meaningless?

As he fell to their collective effort, he was victimized to Glissando's constant bashing of a rifle stock. He grit his teeth, resisting as he had so many times prior, but it could only last for so long. Even with that sapphire glow upon his person, restraining against impact... The pressure, refusing the damage altogether with the tenacity of iron? It eventually wore.

His mana had run his reserve nigh dry, and toughened skin feat faltered to leave her efforts bringing bruises. He winced, he coiled and wilted, but it eventually numbed him. The beating felt empty, and his body soon followed in suit - with his last sight being that of the singing assailant bashing him into unconsciousness.

"G-... God... Damn... It all..."

(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[04:14] Without hesitation, The group make their way down the sewers. Maybe it was a blessing her and Noiret wandered in the sewers. Finding an open and unoccupied home. Damp, Dusty and Dark.

Three things which might anger the man. Dragging him to the nearby bed. Glissando throws him on it. Tucking him in all while wrapping him to the bed with some spare rope she had in her satchel.

"Let him rest. We close our eyes as well. You sleep first. When it's my turn Ill wake you up."

Sitting down neat the tea set. Glisando whistles a calming tune.

"We should bring that old lady some seeds in the future. She seemed strict. Usually people like that have wisdom. Especially if that cottage is her home. Rather that whole forest."
(Glissando Legato)
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[04:19] Oh boy, home intrusion on top of all the things they've already done. The duelist was neither oracle nor fortuneteller but it whatever future laid ahead of them was not one that was going to be free of bloodshed. For now though, Noiret planned on avoiding it as much as possible.

A book containing their lesson from the sewers was placed on the table, his exhausted hues soon becoming visible due to the removal of the broken mask. A shame, really. "Rotations, understood." He sauntered on over to the side nearest to the warm pot, "One more thing. Remember I don't need your help." Cold words for a cold medic, but it was all for a purpose that popped into his dream as he drifted to sleep.
(Noiret)
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[14:21] Unconsciousness had its perks...
For in time, he drifted off to sleep, finding himself within the confines of his own world - his imagination finally gone wild.

Within his freefall of blackness, he saw visions...
He heard his own voice speaking back to him, experiencing his encounters recounting his dream for a world anew.

Though, the centerpiece would be an anomaly placed upon a pedestal by comparison to the countless commoners of this mentally constructed world. Such a construct, wrought straight out of horrors.

It was made of meat... Yet it pulsated as though it were very much alive. It hissed and whimpered, as though desiring to lament its tale, only to be choked out. It bled quiet streams of its vitality across its desktop, only to have the sanguineous drink color the crevices of its bubonic likeness across its quadrilateral shape.

It was a box, long-side presented along the ground, with material encrusted upon its stature. Veins stretched the ground it was placed upon, winding through it as masses of flesh bulged around them. Men and women donned in robes bowed before it from all directions murmuring hymns in prayer... and behind this construct... This 'altar', rose a blackened silhouette: humanoid, but devoid of features outside of the eerie alabaster highlight that broke its appendages from its vacant form.

It pointed at the disembodied Axieon, floating above this alternate reality, yet said no words. It seemed to be the only entity capable of seeing him. Acknowledging him in such a fashion that he felt he understood it, without a single utterance to be spoken to ear. No eyes upon it, yet it felt as though it stared into his soul... As though they connected.

One, of the same.

'Live Eternal, Forsake The Flesh... Birth The Cradle of Man to Raise It, Anew.'

The words spoke between the Tal'grem's ears, yet felt like his own. It didn't sound like him...
It wasn't him, at least - he didn't see it so.

Such a vision came to an abrupt end, leaving him surrounded by darkness and creeping pain. Ambience kicked in with the sound of dripping nearby. The air was heavy - wet, and aggravating to his chest, forcing a cough. That was enough for anyone nearby to realize he was waking up.

Slowly he sought to pick himself up, to find his body restrained. His eyes pried open to find darkness failing to recede as much as it should, himself no longer greeted by an academy dormlight nor the day's shining sun.
The bound individual turned his examinining eyes to his immediate surroundings to find a sleeping individual, and another keeping watch - likely to prevent him from escaping; it was all coming back to him now.

"... I'll offer you a mercy." He bartered, "I will relinquish any wrath against you and forgive you entirely despite your sins against me, in a chance to redeem yourself in the light of The Aeternum." Axieon proclaimed proudly, despite his heavy disadvantage - he was in no position to be making demands, yet nothing stopped him before.

"All you have to do, is undo my bindings. Then, you are free to repent."
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[14:33] Ramblings of somebody in a desperate situation. It was to be expected however for Glissando it would not be tolerated. Reaching behind her head, She pricks her bow from her hair. Untying it and covering the mouth of Axieon with it by lodging it inside of his. She could always purchase a new one.

"Noiret. Look at his skin. It has carvings on it and look at what it's revealing It."

Glissando runs a static charged index finger across the carvings of Axieon. Wondering if it would jolt his mana circuitry. After all, She had to discover her own method of Hemomancy.

"Do you think we've hit the jackpot?"
(Glissando Legato)
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[14:43] The medic-in-training woke up near the two chests, finding himself rolling back and forth while groaning. The floor of whatever sewer house they were in, wasn't too kind to the entirety of his already wounded body but it served it's purpose of giving the much needed rest.

Across the floor laid his mask, a groggy hand reaching out for it and putting it on whilst he started to get back to his feet. Out of the entirety of their conversation, the first thing to grace his ears was Glissando voicing her excitement for the wounds Noiret inflicted. He spoke out to Glissando in a quiet and more calm voice, "I know. I made them.", his right hand clutching his forehead and hair until he finished making his way to their homework.

A glance was shot to Glissando. "Yeah... I hope so." A bow that was lodged in the berserker's throat was taken out swiftly and cleanly by Noiret, "At least show him a little respect and remember we're not going to be working in uhhh... The best of conditions.", his old stuttering returned and a dark red book was removed from his tattered coat then opened for him and Glissando, the teachings of their razuka instructor free for the two to read over and over again.

Humble in tone and mannerisms. "Orange hair. Would you mind telling us your name? We're not going to come after you if that's what you're thinking, I just want to be able to talk to you a little more."
(Noiret)
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[14:53] He was... Gagged? At least, silenced for the time being - enough to leave him peeved.
If only he wasn't restrained...
If only he weren't so weak earlier...
This could've all been avoided.

Once the bow was removed, he immediately took the opportunity. "You make foolish mistakes, girl." He growled. Noiret's act and questioning did not ease him in the slightest, only bringing him further into the realm of spite.

"Come -after- me?!" He visibly strained before... Taking a moment to ease up and breathe. There was a calm way of getting himself through this - he was not foolish. The question of the matter was, just how patient and merciful were these individuals intending to be?

"...On my belt, you'll find a pouch on my right." He instructed, "Open it. You'll find my basilisk uniform folded up, and a book." He assured, "Those will tell you -everything- you need to know."

Perhaps it was through aggravation alone that he didn't simply answer their question, but he felt this would do far more wonders - especially if he could be silenced again.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[15:02] A book and a basilisk uniform? Maybe it was obvious to Axieon. Every time he opened his mouth she did not care. The only thing she responded with was a casual smile. One that might be considered unnerving.

"Okay, I think first we should note the design of his mana circuitry. Do you have anything to make them more visible. An example as such a chemical to make them light up. If not I can force intense vibration into his ear forcing them to vibrate as some sort of Hemomancy. At least that's my idea."

Moving the static charged finger up and down his flesh wounds. Glissando is attempting to move mana of her own through the shock to activate his circuitry.

"If you want to speak to him while I try to figure this out your welcome to do so."
(Glissando Legato)
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[15:15] "Calm down. You're lucky we're not some group of random cultists so I think it'd be nice if we both acted polite." A remark that was blurted out of annoyance, not intimidation. Noiret's vision of his future didn't include hurting people and pressing the squishy parts because they offended him in some way. However, it did include gently opening certain wounds to see where the circuits were.

The anvil on the other side of the room gave him an amazing opportunity to create as many crude, makeshift tools for his trade as he wanted - though he knew it'd end up killing Axieon on the end which remained at the very end of his list of many options.

He returned all the way back to the bed with Glissando and Axieon. "I don't have anything that doesn't involve prying open his insides and flooding it with mana so take your best shot." They said that having someone to talk to through more painful times helped, so at the very least Noiret could be that person.

That pouch was rummaged through until he got the name of Axieon and a few other details, finding that he indeed was another person in the academy. "Alright Axieon, my name is..." His head tilted and blinked before responding with his alias. "Suture. We'll be observing your mana circuits for now, so please keep calm and we'll fix any damage done after." Was it a lie? Could backstabbers like that really be trusted with his life of all things? He would only ever find out with time.
(Noiret)
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[15:33] Calm down?! If anything, persistence through this act only infuriated him further. Of all the devices he wished he could wring them through! To his misfortune, he'd have access to none of them. No, he was at their mercy, and the only iota's worth they'd offer would be his ability to speak -for now-. Survival seemed more of a gamble at this point, though, it'd never be accepted to the Tal'grem.

Glissando didn't seem to even acknowledge a single thing he had to say, making him writhe at his bindings in an effort to lash out. Try all he might, he couldn't break free - but he dared to taunt the strength they held.

"Unhand me this instant." He stewed in his own vile hate, finding it fueling his very pyre - his lifeblood. All he could fathom in the moment, was their suffering.
They had to scream.
They had to cry, to lament for mercy...
No, that wasn't enough - it would never be enough.

Death couldn't be allowed.
Death was too merciful!
It had to be eternal, as he was! They had to be forced into his fate! Forever more, until they became nothing but vestigial instance of flesh, mere products and extensions of his anger.

His frustration...
His... Hate.

'To think, such vermin... Something so beneath me would have me at their digusting paws. Not even worthy of the entitlement of beast nor phlegm. They are vermin, unworthy of extinguishment. Suffering - Become Eternal, through my righteous wrath.'

"You do not have the privilege of speaking my name with your lips, vermin." He spat, truly unwilling to cooperate. Surely, this would mean he had thrown away any hopes of leaving his unharmed, but to him? This was already unforgiving enough.
"You're too unworthy of even death for your sins against me."

At least, he didn't want to kill them. Of course, why would he? It went against everything he stood for.
The static that danced his torn flesh ached him, bringing a visible wince upon his face. Though, it was clear far worse was in store for him.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[15:41] So, If mana circuits were the gateway to the soul. How would they react to the vibration of vile words. Considering the things being spewed in the direction of the two, Glissando decided to try her luck.

Leaning in she opens her mouth directly next to his ear. Her own mana circuits begin to flare as she speaks in a calm collected voice. However the tone may have been soft the range of it was not. Sounding like a close range explosion enough to rattle more then his circuits as mana is weaved into the audio based attack.

" You are worthless. Uneventful to this world. "

She picked those words out of spite. He had a mouth on him. But Glissando had mastered chatter. She was a sound magi after all. One who knew the effect of words. Now with the immense vibration seeping into his circuits caused by Glissandos invading mana. She awaits to see how it effects him. After all, Trik explained how important this basic concept was for necroRatcy.

So if it didn't work it was time to try something else.
(Glissando Legato)
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[15:54] Funny how out of all the people in that room that wanted to inflict suffering the most, it was Axieon. Lucky for Noiret and Glissando, the hideout that they were using wasn't even theirs. The only way they could find him was through his voice and the house he belonged to, unlike his friend who wasn't prepared for their desperate plan.

A insignificant thought in the back of the aforementioned magi's head was to slice a little bit more off of him, to show that their work wasn't to be taken lightly. Pathetic, resorting to violence to solve problems. So his ''heart to heart'' moment with Axieon started, trying to understand him a bit more if it succeeded.

"I get it, you're scared. You put on this little persona to scare away anyone who might think you're weak and talk all high and mighty to keep it going. I don't care because no matter what happens, you've already lost. Sit down and let us do our work in peace and there will be nothing to worry about."
(Noiret)
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[16:03] The sound ringing into his ears tensed him up, nothing like simple chatter to irritate him. It was a full blown assault of the auditory domain, cast at close range to addle himself from his senses, through to his very soul. It fizzled and flickered at his perception of the world - sight splintered with static as the connection between eyes and the brain was briefly interrupted by startling shockwaves. The sound instantly popped at his ears, screeching at him with unrelenting tinnitus.

The constant ring left him split from the world, but his body seemed to bubble in reverence to the shockwaves rippling through him, just shy of breaking him apart on a minute level and leaving him vegetative entirely. Despite the potency of it, he could still interpret the words made out to him - for him, and consumed entirely to bounce around the confines of his mind.

'You are worthless. Uneventful to this world'

Words of such caliber anddelivered with such malice would rattle, if not shatter the common magi. They would outright kill the common man before they'd bring themselves to commit to the deed themselves. Axieon had never been fashioned in such light, tenacious by nature. The agonizing statement wrought him to flex, straining for freedom even further now. Perhaps, they'd bend or warp... Contorting his skin as he tried, but alas, she'd succeed in her endeavor.

The exposed leylines of his circuitry soon gleamed of their sapphire, and as a byproduct? His skin seemingly faded for a silver-ish hue - hardening as it had during their battle. He grit his teeth, still defiant enough to resist despite being disabled from a resistance capable of disrupting the two transgressors.

The pain didn't come in rolling waves, but rather stabbing spikes.

Perhaps he was afraid. Noiret was right...
At least, he -was- right.
Fear could persist only for so long, until the inevitability of reality would have it transmogrify into its far more morbid cousin: Anger.

The hatred he reviled in, was genuine.
"No." The word grumbled through his teeth, "I will scour the lengths of humanity and beyond. I will ascend beyond all else, and will make. you. pay." His eyes locked on to Noiret, already visualizing an alternate reality in which the roles were reversed.

"This world is broken... And you both are a product of that. Don't worry though, I'll be sure to fix you." He swore, struggling even now. To think someone could be so defiantly furious, even in such a position of futility.
"I will give you -no peace-."
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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[16:37] It seemed to have worked. The circuitry was gleaming in response to her actions. The vibrations of sound may just be efficient enough for Hemomancy. She had managed to get under his skin. No rather she had managed to aggravate his very soul.

Both the physical and mental damage done to Axieon is noted. He seemed angrier. His flesh forced to show them what they wanted to see. Trik was no doubt right about the power of messing around with a persons mana circuitry.

"I have something to give you."

Reaching to his arm. Glissando begins to cauterize his open wounds as best as she could. Mainly the smaller cuts that were not near the visible mana circuitry. This was a great study sessions. In return for being such a great test subject despite his mouth, Glissando does the bare minimum for tending his wounds.

Noiret could do the rest.

"I have to go. Let him free or keep him here. I don't care. I have other matters to attend to. But for now I leave in satisfaction with my attempt at Hemomancy. I hope it gave you an idea as well. See you soon..."

In a mocking yet friendly tone Glissando speaks his alias.

"Suture "
(Glissando Legato)
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[16:58] Nothing but mercy and compassion was shown despite what they were about to do to Axieon, a billion chances to cut through, strangle, burn, poison, bludgeon, and he chose not to do anything. The spur of the moment reaction manifesting in a grip of his sword that raised into the air above his head and over Axieon, "Shut the hel up!" a hand shaking to the very neurotic core with frustration for such disrespect - slammed into the liver of Axieon, knowing full well that it'd put him out of commission for a few moments.

Pain... That wasn't supposed to happen. A somber frown formed under the mask, his progress impeded and the guilty plague of remorse weighing down his nervous demeanor.

What would they think of it? Then again, they were the ones who trusted the word of another over his and sent him over to that godforsaken academy as resolution for a perceived troublemaker, one that still vied for the ecstatic moment of content that'd never come if he were to remain as he was.

If he was to succeed, he would have to push himself out of his comfort zone. There would be no more safety-net bullshit that worked by rejecting the risks of the trade and resting wherever he considered safe or ''easy,'' like his original plan.

Noiret repressed a snicker for what he did, a confliction between the whole do-no-harm antithesis to the brutal antagonistic actions he never saw himself performing in a million years, let alone on another student in the academy that was more than capable of beating his head into paste. It was seeing what he'd do, testing the waters to see what made him twitch.

But work was still to be done so he hurriedly withdrew from the bed and all the way over to the anvil, a copy of the Medic's Codex slammed onto the anvil. Pages flew by until he reached the section that regarded what to do withthose who were in pain or about to be. Up and down his weathered-mask covered head moved, a manic smile burning the contents of the page into his mind and soul.

His book was gently and elegantly moved straight into his destroyed coat, reminding him of his earlier triumph over Axieon's righteously vengeful with Noiret's choreographed retaliations that wore away his armored flesh and etched his wicked guide out of a crimson ink, pain aching in all his circuits every single second since their battle.

A light touch of the anvil was all that it took for it to vibrate, shaking the entire room along with it until a sizeable chunk fell off and then became gripped by ''Suture'' who then molded it into a surprisingly accurate scalpel of questionable quality given how it was made from an anvil of all things.

He returned to Axieon, a scalpel in hand and his demented expression staring from above - the only thing visible from said expression due to his broken mask, being that twitchy and erratic pupil that showed all three whites of the eye, staring straight at his very first victim's lacerated countenance.

Majority of the wounds cauterized by his work partner's plasma were cut right back open, steadily, unhurriedly, until they began to slice around the areas where his mana circuits had shown themselves with a little bit of improvisation for the sake of learning as he went along. Besides, mistakes weren't likely to be fatal if anything and ''Suture'' would save them if needed.

With the majority of his circuits exposed, ''Suture'' turned the scalpel around and traced through the bloodied grip end of his tool of choice. It was jammed straight into the very first cut, pressing itself around like someone putting a cigar out. Whether or not that was out of frustration or necessary efforts was up to interpretation. A deep blue smoke began to come out of all the traced wounds, mana being pumped through the scalpel and into his wounds for a glowing blue that proved his magic to be far more useful than for just cutting people up.

A pencil and different book were pulled out of his coat and the map of Axieon's circuit drawn professionally into each page, one for each limb that he had. With that done, he slammed the book shut and began the process of cleaning Axieon's wounds, careful and easy enough to prevent any unnecessary pain from being inflicted as his study was cleaned by a damp rag and wrapped with bandages.

"My work here is done. Be thankful I did not do anything I did not need to. You have five minutes to speak before you are let free." And when that five minutes ended, Axieon would be knocked out through a precise blow to the head and then let free.

Subsequent to that was the sloppy removal of his oak façade that was beginning to stink like death, it was cut off and kicked to the other end of the room before Noiret fleed from the room and sewers to return back to where he came.
(Noiret)
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[19:11] No thoughts.
No prayers.
No peace.

He couldn't help but squirm in agony as his skin was seared shut alongside the minor cuts. There was nothing to cease the pain, drawing his eyes for the back of his skull. How desperately wanted to fall asleep - to surrender in sake of a merciful descent into unconsciousness.

There had to be justice.
There had to be something to force them to answer for their crimes. Their sins.
Glissando left as callously as she had arrived, leaving just Noiret.

They rose a blade above him, leaving Axieon to witness death lingering just beyond the veil. It was simply a matter of succumbing to his wrath - though, was it so? Was he surely to die? Why couldn't he grasp the concept?
Was it because he was too angry?

Or, was it because these individuals had shattered what little respect he could offer? Death felt like an illusion when threatened by creatures such as these.

'Shut the hel up!'

The impact upon his liver was unlike anything he had felt before. It wasn't pain anymore... It was a force beyond the veil, accompanying death itself, taking one's perception of the world and omitting it. Darkness to him whole, and soon the sensations of the flesh didn't matter.

Axieon as he knew it was gone... Leaving a vacant husk in his stead. The mind had retired to realize its dreams, far more prominent than the reality that surrounded him.
The body reacted only in reverence to nerves and muscles being infringed upon, but otherwise the man was unresponsive, thoroughly knocked out.

Where pain would invoke cries of anguish, arms would violently seize, with breathing halted entirely. The hardened flesh had gone soft once more, with the silver-ish hue returning for its light brown tone. Interestingly enough, even whilst out, his circuit was burning and active - a testament to his unrelenting will, fitting for one of a proclaimed undying nature.

Surely, he may've been spoken to, but the voice couldn't ring true to him, even if he were conscious. His hearing was damaged through Glissando's acts prior, leaving Noiret's words solely for himself. Unconsciousness was combated with the power of will, just bringing a fluttering of the eyes. He couldn't comprehend what Noiret's lips were saying beyond the blurring of vision and sharp ringing - but at least he could glare.

Glare in silence and writhe in the anguish -- all of it...
He wasn't going to forget this.
How could he? It only further confirmed his ideologies - and intensified his hatred.
There were no words to be said... His eyes spoke for him, down until a precise blow would finally reintroduce blankness once more.

This, was not over... Nor would it ever be.
(Axieon Tal'grem)
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