Runing the Bomb [10/15] Boom Dev

16:09] Ardith Illarian says, "Garr. Evenin'."
[16:09] Garrick says, "Evenin' Ardi."
[16:13] Garrick would sit upon the bench outside the Pyrelight Hall in silence, idly puffing at his ragged cigarette as his molten glance fell upon the distant horizon, idly clacking his jagged rows of teeth together as he blew rings of smoke up towards the sky. His fiery amber motes would shift their attention to Ardith as she arrived, a light curl of a smile at the edges of his otherwise serious expression before he returned his gaze to the sky.

"Got what'cha needed in my office. Probably not the best place to store it, but we all die eventually. How you feeling?"

(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[16:16] The Accursed is clearly not herself. There is no mirth at her lips, no sway to her tail, and only a cold glitter to her eyes as she stares south. So much has changed, so much has been lost.

That single minded purpose that had worked a miracle of bringing back a treasured soul from death's grip has now shifted to a much darker cause.

It can spell nothing good for the world below the icy wastes of the mountaintop.

She replies to his query with a listless shrug.

"Good. One less step in the way. Sooner it can be done the better."
(Ardith Illarian)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[16:24] Garrick would find his smile disappearing as his molten eyes studied Ardith, the drake having known the accursed and her visual tics for the better part of two decades now. He gauged with certainty that the woman wasn't well, that she wasn't taking much joy in anything at the present. Something about her lifelessness simply didn't sit well with the smith, as if it wasn't how things should be.

Rising from his seat at the bench, Garrick would pace up steadily beside Ardith with ambient crunches of his black sabatons against the snowfall, idle clanks against the stone tiles, before he'd stop before her to examine her state of being just a bit closer. An expression of worry crossed the drakan's face, a frown curling upon his lips.

"You aren't catching a cold out here on my watch. Come on, let's get inside and you can tell me the next step."

(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[16:30] Ardith grunts, rolling her eyes.

"I ain't cold. But I got work to do. We can head inside."

She's gotten used to the lonely chill this far north. It was a far cry from any of her home's prior- the temperate rolling hills of her birthplace or the muggy, humid forests of the Dreadwoods.

The Accursed takes the lead to stalk inside.
(Ardith Illarian)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[16:30] Ardith Illarian asks, "Upstairs is the workshop. Righ'?"
[16:30] Garrick says, "Yeah."
[16:30] Ardith Illarian asks, "Here're the goods?"
[16:30] Garrick says, "Here's the goods. Drum roll please."
[16:36] Garrick would approach the wall with an idle clicking of his teeth as glanced at the large tarp that sat over the payload to be, blinking lightly before he immediately ashed his cigarette with a light bark of laughter as he reminded himself that, funny as it would be, getting incinerated by his own work would not be the most entertaining way to go. Dragging the large tarp off the assembled pile, the fire drakan's work was put on full display for the accursed in the light of the workshop.

Ten heavy oaken barrels sat stacked atop each other in a two by five pattern, the outsides glistening lightly with the resin seal that held their incendiary contents tightly within with only the barest wisp of fumes rising from their form. To the outside eye, they seemed simply like commonplace storage, but to an aspiring terrorist they were payloads of destruction.

"Compound was a little tricky to edge out, but I pulled out the stops where I could. Resin will make sure whatever it sticks to will keep burning no matter how hard they try to scrape it off, oil will make it slick, the high proof hooch will give it a nice, fiery kick, and the ground crystals will make'm sing. I present to you, Ardith Illarian, the boom stew."

(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[16:40] Her eyes flicker over the gathered barrels, sparking with interest. A momentary, ghastly smile stretches her face. It's gone as soon as it arrives however.

"A good start," she rumbles, sliding over to one of the nearby work tables.

"Tools. You got tools?"

The Accursed naturally carries a few with her. Not all of them at all times. What she does carry with her at all times-

The heart, the gold and green prosthetic that had once made its home in her husband's chest. She sets it onto the table, still smeared with long dried blood, and regards it with a long stare.

"I'll leave with ya, Garrick. I'm gonna take all this. I'm gonna cash in all the favors I can get my claws in.

"And I'm gonna blow Gehenna's temple to fuckin' bits if it's the last thing I do."
(Ardith Illarian)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[16:56] "Tools? Yeah, depends on what you need. If I don't got it, I can forge it. Most days I just use my claws and scales when I'm workin', tongs are for pussies."

Garrick would take a heavy seat down in his chair his attention held upon Ardith, scraping a bit of resiny gunk off his right claw before proceeding to dredge through his navy cotton coat for something. After a few moments, a dull green bottle almost as fume laden as the incendiaries would be removed and uncorked, two glasses levitating from the nearby shelves before with a swift gesture the drake would fill the pair to the brim.

Naturally, if Ardith didn't want to drink, he got to drink double. It was a win win.

The dragon aspirant's molten eyes would flick to the heart with a light blink as he examined the artifice, the engineer in him mulling over its design with unrestrained fascination before he recalled why the pair were here in the first place. Business first.

Yet when Ardith finally revealed her plan, the fire drakan's grin would spread ear to ear, his burning amber motes igniting with fiery fury as a vein bulged upon his forehead with sudden emotion. A single claw would trail down to the drake's chest, flicking over the black pearl of the cursed amulet that had once been the cave guardian's.

"It won't ever be enough to pay those stagnant, rotten sons of bitches back for Lei Jin, but blowing that shithole to smithereens will be a start. I always did like fireworks, real pretty ya know?"

A grin would become a grim, focused smile as Garrick's gaze flicked from the heart to the accursed, a firm nod granted as he mulled over the plot.

"I'll follow you anywhere Ardi, now and always. What's the plan, and what else ya need?"



"TEXT HERE"

(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[17:05] The Accursed flinches. How many times had she heard those words before? More than she could count, and always hollow.

Words don't matter. They never have. Deeds did, and she's got one Hel of a deed cooking up.

"Screw driver. Chisel," she grunts. Her eyes shift over the bottle and the glasses, but she forsakes them. The sharper she can stay for this the better. A necessary sacrifice.

"I'm callin' in a favor for a distraction. A frontal assault on Gehenna itself. The barrles'll be rifted into the temple proper where they can do the most damage."

She gestures loosely to the vast collective he's made, then looks back to the heart. The center of it all.

"...I'm turnin' this into a bomb. Somethin' that'll re-route the power from the projection platform and the shard they got in the back room of the temple. I got a transceiver I'm gonna turn into a trigger.

"I set up the charge, make sure the barrels are in place, kick rocks, and find a cozy place to set it all off from. Far 'nough away I don't get in the blast, close 'nough I can hear their screams."
(Ardith Illarian)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[17:17] Garrick would do the respectable thing and immediately double fist the two glasses of moonshine, downing them swiftly because he was a dragon and fear was for newts. Nodding lightly to Ardith's inquiry, the drake would idly dig through the myriad of roughly tailored pockets that lined his coat before, after a few minutes of searching, a glinting silver screw driver and chisel forged of mithril would be deposited upon the table before Ardith.

"Rifting right into the temple? Gods I wish I was further along in my studies, I'd have loved to be responsible for that kind of purified discord. Still, I made the batch, I can let my teacher handle the boot work. I'd say it'll be divine, but that'd be a shitty pun, so it'll just be pretty fuckin' great."

The drake's eyes would fall once more upon the heart, something Ardith had put every ounce of effort she had into making once upon a time. He'd clack his teeth together lightly, humming steadily before his eyes would rise to meet the accursed's own with a firm nod.

"You put a lot of work into that heart Ardi, you sure you wanna make it into a bomb? ...What am I sayin', of course you're sure. Ain't no lookin' back, only forward. So how we turnin' this thing into a high explosive?"

The drake would smirk at the conjured image, the idea of kicking back and relaxing to watch a rotten city burn a tempting sight.

"And am I bringin' the picnic blanket when we watch this go down, or you got that covered?"

(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[17:25] "Callin' in favors to Sors," she replies, taking the screwdriver and beginning the disassembly of the heart's outermost casing. So meticulously forged, put together. So many sleepless months set to making it to spit in Fate's eye.

Only for it to be plunged into the chest of a complete and utter ingrate, a traitor who broke all words of substance.

"He'll be able to rift 'em in the temple. Maybe have nethradin set 'im in position. He'll be summonin' the frontal assault too as a distraction. Then in I go to do the wet work."

Her eyes are, by and large, focused on cracking open the shell with the chisel, once the exterior screws are removed. Both halves lie open, their inner workings facing up, on the work table. They flick up towards Garrick with unveiled hatred. What a stupid question.

"...The fuck else am I supposed to do with it? I made it. It's mine,no matter how much Ely wants to bitch and whine it was 'Gehenna's resources'. They were never his or Gehenna's.

"The traitor's heart is gonna bring their downfall. The gift I made with my own sweat n' blood is gonna bring 'em all to their knees.

"I'm linin' the interior with runes for explosions and big bursts. Along with ones to make a power disruption. I'm gonna overload the shard in the projection platform to fire this puppy off. Then the barrels'll catch to make sure the work's done."
(Ardith Illarian)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[17:44]
{LOAD GAME}

[17:44] "It's how it should be then. That's the spark of your genius and determination you're fiddling with, the product of your will to see things done. It wasn't ever that shithole's possession, the same as they never saw all the good you could've done with your research. Fuck'm, blowing it up's more than those idiots could manage anyways, they're incompetents through and through."

The drake would attentively watch the accursed work, careful not to interrupt her efforts while offering help as needed. Perhaps it was simply because the fire drakan had known Ardith for so long, because she'd been the woman that had welcomed him to Gehenna and made it a home for a far younger drake, but no amount of harshness from the accursed appeared to phase him. In fact, it appeared only to make him smile wider, as if to him it was merely part of her violent charm. Emphasis on violent.

"One big burst should be all you need, assuming the barrels get spread out right. When that pine resin sticks to something and starts burning, it won't stop til there's nothing left to burn. Minced some fire and wind crystals into the batch, they're weaved into the tar to motivate the flame once it catches. Long as your half of the efforts go through and makes a big bang, ain't nothing will get in the way of this flame."

The fire drakan would nod firmly, molten amber motes flicking back to the stack of barrels before returning to the accursed with a flash of his jagged rows of teeth, a lightly amused expression crossing his face as something occurred to him.

"It'll be a good test run to see how Gehennan stone burns anywho. Ain't gonna do nothin' when I finally get a grasp of riftmancy, I wanna tear a scar to Ifraheim over a city and see it erupt inan eternal flame. This'll be give me some fine inspiration, hearin' those stagnant scumbags scream. Turn it all to smoke and ash."

The drake would make a fist in the air, jagged toothed grin curling as he grinned with malevolent determination at Ardith as his eyes ignited with a hateful fire. The city would pay the toll of vengeance they owed with ash, and only a sea of it would make due.

(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[17:48] It was true. He was right, but she's known that for a while now; all the good she tried to do, heaven forbid with a little payment in return, and all they'd done was disrespect her. Cast her aside, and welch on their promises for payment.

Elyon had never cared for her. She doubt he'd cared for his brother- the paltry sum put up for her bounty was more because she'd escaped with what he deemed 'their' resources. Hel, he'd asked for the grand traitor to be returned alive with more than three times her bounty.

For her? She was wanted dead. Some 'family' he was. Some 'family' any of them were.

Sors had been right too. She was never one of them. Never had been, never would be, no matter how hard she tried to do well and right by them.

"Sounds good to me...You're the expert here."

The runes are what she knows, and the ones she begins etching into the hearts interior glow a sickly shade of greenish yellow as she traces them.

"If this works, why bother with Gehennan stone? Their rock'll be turned over. Nowhere to hide. Nowhere to stagnate...They move or they die. Simple as that."
(Ardith Illarian)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[18:04] "Takes two'ta tango Ardi. I'm the newt that'll be this island's finest engineer, and you're the greatest runescribe this shithole's seen in generations. 'Tween the two of us, ain't no weapon of mass destruction we can't make. "

The drake would offer the accursed two finger guns with a flash of his jagged toothed grin, molten eyes sparking with light as he watched the steady process of turning the telltale heart into a good old fashioned dirty bomb. Though the particulars of the art always managed to escape him, the fire drakan took joy in watching an artisan at their craft even if it wasn't his own.

"And think of it like...a test, Ardi. I don't just wanna see them stones turned and tumble. I wanna see'm melt, I wanna make sure they can't never use'm to rebuild somethin' again. I want it to be an ichorous, molten sludge that swallows their bones and blank faced, apathetic smiles alike. I wanna bring a flame that warps the very earth they build their monuments of mundaniety, their rotten civilization, into somethin' unrecognizable. Somethin' that can't never be fixed even if they make the fire go out."

The drake would grit his teeth as the anger returned to his visage, a steady, boiling presence just beneath the drake's skin at all times since he'd taken the flames of hatred within his bosom, seized their strength, and never let go. His eyes briefly glanced off towards the distance as they sparked with light, the visions of an island engulfed by the purity of fire flashing over him before he turned his attention back to the accursed.

"I wanna make'm pay with all they got. Their history too. It's a start."



(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[18:12] At least she has some help now, where the rest had fled or dried up. Even if he vanishes like the others, the work with the accelerants is done. It's a small comfort for her coal black heart.

It will never be gold. She's resigned herself long since to that fact. Ardith continues etching the runes on the interior chambers of the heart, her masterpiece, her magnum opus.

"Then let's hope we can do just that. We can hope it makes a crater, between this and the assault they'll have comin'. I ain't got much left anymore...but I'm puttin' damn near all I have into it."

Short of her life and her children?...It will literally take all she has left to her name.

"If we're lucky, no one'll ever remember their names. 'Specially not the Hirai. I wanna wipe that slate clean..."
(Ardith Illarian)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[18:13] Ardith Illarian says, "If ya know anyone else on this fuckin' mountain interested in somethin' like this. I'll hear 'em out."
[18:13] Ardith Illarian says, "Otherwise, I gotta rely on what Sors can summon up."
[18:22] "You still got enough to work wonders Ardi. You've gone through nothin' but struggles for the better pat of two decades, got spit on an' betrayed by countless fools who didn't see your true value. Ain't nothin' before kept you down, and ain't nothin' will. Period. You'll get through this an' everythin' that comes after, and I'll be here to prop you up the whole damned way. "

The drake would clack his jagged rows of teeth together with a firm, determined nod to the accursed as he shrugged his broad shoulders, molten eyes held upon the work at hand as Garrick saw the heart become a weapon with thorough focus. There was little at the moment he could do with the ball in her park of scribing, but he could at least fill the air with conversation while the time passed.

"The only thing they'll remember of that place in a hundred years is the sea of ash and sorrow left behind. We're gonna burn that place so bad the wraiths fuck off and find a less haunted grave for fools out of fright. Mosts folks is flakes, so I really got anyone to suggest to join this little party. But we got us, and that's enough to start a fire. "


(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[18:27] The runes are etched, all prepared and ready. Infused with her raw hatred and anger, her feelings of betrayal and indignant rage towards those who had repeatedly wronged her. It was a long list.

"I ain't need proppin'," she snorts, tapping the two halves of the casing together and reaffixing the screws.

"Then the two of us it'll be. I'll try to contact Mistletoe. if there's no dice there, then fuck it. I got all I need. The prices'll be paid and my favors called in.

"Then there'll be nothin' left but to wait for the distraction and get it done...Finally."

Then maybe, finally, she can feel something like peace again. Something other than the bright pinpoint of anger that rests in her chest with its constant, nagging burning. It consumes all else.
(Ardith Illarian)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[18:35] "Course ya don't. Still gonna be there to do it though. Sucks to suck, you're stuck with me."

Garrick would snort as he shook his head steadily, the back and forth almost making him feel like they were two dumb kids sitting on Gehenna's coast again, and not a pair of middle aged, thoroughly furious magi that wanted to watch the world burn. It'd almost be nostalgic if the circumstance wasn't so thoroughly saturated with hatred.

No, only the flame would banish such single minded determination.

"Whatever happens, we're gonna get this thing done. There ain't nobody half as stubborn as the two of us on this island anymore. We ain't gonna fail, we ain't gonna die, and we sure as shit ain't gonna let those Gehennan cocksuckers get the last laugh. They're gonna choke on it."

The drake would make a gesture with his claws as they interwined, a tightening vice that his molten eyes focused upon as he gritted his teeth with continuous anger. The fury seemed to possess him without relent, an ever present factor of his life since the day he'd been marked by the handprint of reika.

"After it's all said and done, I'm thinkin'....crab. Lotsa butter and salt. And rum. We can't forget the rum, that's a big no no. A beach somewhere to kick up our feet and pretend for a good...two or so hours that this world ain't as fucked as it is."

(Garrick)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[18:39] It was so hard, almost painful, to think of things so long back. Not that the present wasn't painful in its own ways. At least then she hadn't lost so much, had no cause to grieve- other than the nature of being Accursed and how much of the world frowned upon what she was.

"...I ain't like thinkin' bout food these days. Or drink. Or...anythin'. I can't think about anythin' but this. Everythin' they took from me, everythin' they did or ain't do..."

The list of what they didn't do had been far longer. They'd failed to do anything for him- she'd carried that project on her back, alongside a few others whom were now gone. They'd done nothing for Caira. She'd brave the snows up here to try that herself while all the rest of the village sat on their hands. She'd helped the blind and the weak while Gehenna did...

What exactly had they done other than serve themselves? 'Selfless'. They'd never earned that word.

"...I gotta' get this somewhere safe. Settle up with Sors. We can talk later, yeah?"
(Ardith Illarian)