Nashandra: Enthralled vs Yorrick

Call it a placebo, but Nashandra had been doing a whole lot better recently. No new treatment had been taken, nothing. And yet her pale complexion had returned to nromal, and nosebleeds were far less frequent. Overall, the homunculus almost seemed cured. Though one could easily notice a particularly horrifying aura surrounding lass. It wasn't her's, but it was held particularly close to her.

The trail of depravity this aura emitted was bigger than Nashandra's and left quite the sinister trail in its wake. In thz caves one could notice the growth of poisonous fungi on each of her footsteps, while outside in the grassier plains, there would be patches of grass completely rotted away.

The entity stared toward the horizon, at the direction of Nostvale in particular. A sly grin on her visage and silver eyes sligtly narrowed. Something was festering in her mind, an idea not exactly in accordance to what Cinderfall expected. Nonetheless, she'd be peaceful, despite the malefic influence she'd be oozing for some reason or another.

If one were to get close to Nashandra, they would feel this disturbing sensation of dread and anguish try to pierce their soul. It felt promordial, and far bigger than her or anyone else.
(Nashandra)
Yorrick was in a good mood, things were going great in life these days... He was married, he was powerful, he felt as though his damaged mana circuit was on the verge of healing, and he might indeed have a child on the way. However that feeling of joy soon left him as he came upon the field.

He could feel the depravity in the air even before the sensation of dread or anguish. He looked around noticing the patches of dead grass and he would lift up a hand in the depravity thick air. He closed his eyes and a ball of dark energy would form in his hand, noticeably more powerful when surrounded by such depravity, he would shake his head, something was wrong. He unsummoned the spell and would ready a fireball in one hand, walking quietly through the field.

As he came upon the source he felt the anguish and dread in the air, how it pierced at the heart and drove it to the core. His good mood vanished but he did his best to remain somewhat stable, he'd go to speak, his voice concerned.

"Nashandra?" He would say. "Is everything alright? Your letting off like... a lot of depravity man."
(Yorrick Azar)
A wanted interloper, good. At least someone could intervene if things were to go far too sour. A couple of tilts from her head would prompt the same amount of cracks. With Yorrick's inquiry she would guide her visage to capture his frame.

"Mister Yorrick. I am glad you came. Do you know what this is?"

Her hand now pulling out of her cloak, she would reveal a glass jar containing a set of three peculiar flowers. The depravity, the sinister influence, it all came from them. Alongside the strange flora, there'd be a spherical jewel at the bottom of the jar. It seemed quite out of place, and yet appeared to shine in reaction to the flowers releasing this depravity.

Her question would be rhetorical however as she would answer the question as to what they were.

"Greyrot Blossoms. Grown from the bowels of the Dreamer. They hold their very essence, and one could say they are an actual fragment of her being, considering the Mana they hold. Pure, promordial, Nerebian mana, poisoned by the depravity that made the God all too sadistic."

With her free hand, the jar's lid would be grasped. With a click, foul odors escaped the confined of the glass and infested the area.

"I will consume them, Mister Yorrick. And it will be messy. Very messy. As such I will need you to clean up after me, alright?"
(Nashandra)
Yorricks eyes went wide. "Flowers from the bowels of Nerebia? Nashandra, don't be foolish! They are oozing depravity, they come from an evil god, and I mean-" He'd extend both hands in shrug, "Like, they came from its bowels, thats probably gonna make you really sick man."

"Who knows what effect it could have? What if like, it made you go nuts and then we had to fight, how the hell am I supposed to do that? I mean sure, I'm probably a bit stronger, but like, I don't know that, what if I can't stop you. Or hell, what if it doesn't make you crazy, what if it just kills you."

"You shouldn't be eating evil flowers from the bowels of an evil god that ooze depravity and smell like they came from...." He'd try to think of an example before simply giving a shrug

"Well, where they came from. Its probably not a good idea. You should like, look into it more, do more investigation, or at least explain the situation to me a bit better" He'd then wince and cough, "And for the love of some divine being, put the lids back on those jars, that smells horrible."
(Yorrick Azar)
She chuckled.

"Mister Yorrick. I was born out of these flowers. I would assume such depraved things would remind you of my innate state. Though they are far more ... Pure than my being."

With that piece of information revealed, one of her tentacles would bloom out of her lower back. Arcing itself over her shoulder, it'd seem to be pointing at the direction of the Greyrots. Slowly, it seemed to be splitting itself in half, until it could mimic the form of a maw. She was going to feed the flowert to the appendage.

"They would be toxic to anybody else, yes. But they are to me what a Kokb'ael gem would be to an Imperfect Yokai."

She'd smirk, before completely opening the jar. With that, the tentacle would leap into the jar and pig out on the flower. Much crunching, a lot of drooling. Her gaze would never leave Yorrick's frame however.

"The gem here is an Apostle's. I will assimilate its energy as well. And I will likely become violent yes. Which is why I'll need you to neutralize me. The Gem will likely lose its enthralling effects after a fight, given how worn out it is. Until then~"
(Nashandra)
He would sigh. "Alright then." As all he would say. He would be doing combat then? He would prepare. He closed his eyes as she ate the flowers, as though he were preparing to cast his spells. Suddenly sparks would begin to pop around him, flicking off of his form.

Sparks however became flames, as an aura of shadowflame wrapped around him. He wasn't sure if he could beat her, he didn't know. But he hoped so, otherwise he doubted very much that he'd be leaving unhearmed.

He would open his eyes, they seemed to glow ever so slightly as his mana was pulsing through him, spells ready to be fired. In one hand he would take his Scythe, the legendary "Slicey Mcstabbington" and he'd light up a fireball in the other hand. He would speak in a calm manner.

"I'm ready when you are, go ahead and devour them. I will try not too do too much damage. Try not to kill me." He would say.
(Yorrick Azar)
"I would not conciously harm you, Mister Yorrick. But circumstances are such that, well, here we are."

She could feel it, the silver miasma filling her veins and peculiar organism. The Greyrot blossoms were being assimilated into her being, and inevitably, charge her with the power she coveted. A boost, so to say, to her degrading being. Her sense of purpose still disoriented, she would at least patch up the flaws of her organism.

The gem would flash stronger than ever, before levitating toward Nashandra. The same tentacle that had devoured the flower would leap in to nab it, before swallowing it whole. Its power would also be her's, as once more, she'd be doused with concentrated power of the Dreamer. A far more enthralling and violent empowerment this time around.

"Get ... Ready ..."

All of her tentacles would emerge once she had hit the peak of her power. Her silver pupile dilating to the point of cosuming the entirety of her sclerae. Sounds of crunching, bones moving and muscle tearing. It was quite unnerving. And this shift in biology would force Nashandra on her hands and knees, her back adopting a pose of a beast more than anything else.

Eyes now black and teeth growing in size, her organism was showing some of its true colors. There'd even be a semblence of horns emerged from her head. They would not be horns, but 'growths' of her appendages taken the shame of horns around her head. In other words, a form of strange mutation mimicking the Apostles, one that would subside once her rampage would cease.
(Nashandra)
Yorrick stared in horror at the beast Nashandra was turning into, empowered and driven mad for the time being by the mad gods flowers. He stared in shock and a flurry of things went through his mind, a flurry of voices telling him what direction to go.

Part of him said to ready himself for battle, another part said to run away, another said to go for back up. Yet the more he thought, the more he realized if he ran, she'd likely run right into the city, being a threat to all. He had things in that city to protect, his family. So he would lift his scythe and ready a fireball as his shadowflame aura raged.

For all of his fear in this moment, he still couldn't help but grin, for while he knew he had responsibilities and had to be careful, he still lived for these moments. Moments where life became an adventure again, and he had to faceoff against some beast like he did when he was child.

Oh if only Zym were here to see this, it would be perfect... But he was not, so Yorrick would grin, ready to fight her alone. "Bring it on." He would say with a chuckle. "I'm ready."
(Yorrick Azar)
The metamorphosis was relativly small, but still unnerving. The mouths on her appendages would continuously scream and shriek. No respite whatsoever for those involves. But the worst would likely be the greyrot monstrosities emerging from the ground under her. Humanoid, dark grey monstrosity acting as drones under her command. They all seemed to be 'looking' at Yorrick's direction, even if lacking any form of optics.

Nerebia's essence grew stronger and stronger around the homunculus as her being grew more and more accustomed to the essence she had assimilated. Multiple growls could be heard, but otherwise the tentacles would be the ones doing all the noise.

Legs flexed on her beastial position, she was ready to leap onto her prey. Yorrick's life was in danger, but it seemed as though he could likely worn her down just enough for Nashandra to regain control. His life would likely not be what he'd lose, but inevitable damage to his body would occur if he'd fail to maintain a semblence of control over the enthralled Nashandra.

She attacked, aiming to send her minions to assaul the Drakanite!
(Nashandra)
He knew his life was in danger as he saw how she was coming at him to attack, and instead of cowering in fear he would give a grin and a grunt as he slammed his fist forward at a quick pace, catching her in the jaw, however the main impact would be the low powered fireball that shot from said fist as it made contact, knocking her back.

He felt his jacket tearing and a few spells almost broke the skin however his Vest had actually come in useful, strong enough to prevent steel from stabbing in, holding off attacks directly too his chest even of the magical variety.

He would grin and fire off multiple blasts of occult and fire as the battle raged on, taking several blows and feeling weakened, yet still managing to knock her to the ground with the blunt end of his scythe more than once, and he knew his spells were quite damaging. Come the end of the first round he stood victorious but winded and a bit injured.

Nashandra's injuries would be for the most part superficial, mostly bruising and some cuts, mainly firing off concussive blasts of flame that only left minor burns. "You calm yet?" He would ask after he had knocked her down. Prepared once more to fight as he awaited an answer.
(Yorrick Azar)
So far, she was pushed back. The flames of Yorrick were enough to fry most of the Greyrot, and cause the entity to retreat. Not too shabby. The Monstrosity did not indulge in any form of break however, and would continue its assault onto Yorrick. Clearly angered, it viciously leaped back to gnaw something off of Yorrick's being.

Appendages whipped wildly, and her silver, dilated eyes kept a disconcerting glare onto the lad. Masses of pure, silver energy surrounded the enthralled lass, ready to fire in rapidfire onto the Drakanite.

More Greyrot emerged, ready to take him on in a suicidal endeavor to put any opposition down. Superficial wounds on the other hand were quickly healed, with many of her greyrot literally melting on her being to have their biomatter 'fill' the gashes.

With a loud screech, she would go in for a crippling bite.
(Nashandra)
(Redo, Border glitch. Please fix)
(Nashandra)
(redoing previous round)
(Yorrick Azar)
Who it thirsted for more. The innate violence from the dreamer, its sadistic desires. It wanted nothing more than to reek misery and havoc to all those who didn't submit. Unfortunately, the option to submit would never emerge for Yorrick, as he would face none other than a monster. One hellbent on destroying rather than toying.

The vile influences of the greyrot spread through the area, spores of charged with the most depraved of manas along with her minions mercilessly piling upon on the fire magi. The screeches of her tentacles, releasing booming soundwaves to push back the drakanite.

And then, in his moment of vulnerability, she'd charge herself with possibly the most revolting of cosmic/nerebian mana she could muster, before lunging toward the man. He'd be pounced, tentacles ready to inflict unspeakable horrors to him.

But he still had vigor, and she wasn't completely enthralled. With her movements dulled by inner turmoil, she'd be easily pushed back by Yorrick as he'd be in his vulnerable state. However, the beast would not falter yet. It needed to expel as much excess energy as possible, as it was soon running out.
(Nashandra)
He fought hard but in the end he was defeated, she had gone mad, this was no fight to stop her from hurting him, this was a fight for his life. He wondered what it would be like if he died, how he would be letting down so many. How Zain would mourn, how his wife would feel, how Zymrorth would react when he returned to Cinderfall to find the only person he ever considered family, his twin, dead. Yorrick closed his eyes.

"No." He would mutter to himself. His mind would flash back to his own father, who had gotten himself killed and caused the family to mourn for years, "I will be better." He'd growl again speaking only to himself. He lifted up his scythe and looked to Nashandra.

His aura would fade and horns would emerge form his head as wings erupted from his back. He'd hold his scythe high and begin to charge, before leaping into the air and letting the wind carry him around the battlefield, swooping in to attack, no longer trying to deal concussive hits, he knew she could heal, he was trying to make sure she could not continue fighting this fight.
(Yorrick Azar)
The battle was close, and the beast was truly at the brink of falling by the hand of the Drakanite's mighty flames. But, its healing factor would allow it to carry on. So quickly would it recover, like an undying monstrosity refusing to die even if the moon would crash upon it. By then Yorrick would reach his limit, his stamina going quite thin, and Nashandra's monstrous form rose above.

His scythe would be deflected as her recovered being dashed through the flames. Sharp teeth in her maw would bite down onto his arm, though she'd quickly abandon this initiative in order to handle him more directly. The beats would have its tentacles lock both his arms and legs to the ground, while her behind lied flat onto him.

Depravity coated hands would cup his cheeks with her visage slowly approaching his. Coughing all of a sudden, Yorrick would witness some sort of appendage slowly crawl its way out of her jagged mouth. It looked like some sort of slug, and she was going to insert it into his mouth.

But as the enthralled Homunculus lost power, the control of the Blossoms and Apostle gem over her will would waver, and she'd regain control. Clamping her teeth down as a reflex, the 'slug' she had been vomitting out would be severed in half. And fall onto the Drakanite's chest. It'd melt ...

Into acid! It would be extremely painful for the young man, as it would fry his very skin and leave quite the revolting mark. The wound itself wouldn't be a gargantuan issue. No, it'd mostly be an eyesore more than anything else. But the fluids that'd enter his body ... They would have quite the adverse effects. Yorrick would suffer the same symptoms of Nashandra had when she started to get sick.

Infected with the Greyrot Blossom's infection, she would have a slight bit of her DNA in him, and would frequently suffer from headaches and nosebleeds. He will not mutate, however, but will sometimes find his blood to hold silvery dots and patches.

Nashandra would fall over next to him, all her energy exhausted and the Apostle's jewel's power released, letting her assimilate completely what remained.

(-5 vit Permanent vit nerf. The IC of nosebleeds and headaches is to be adopted. Can lead to interesting mutations and the such if you wish to take this route. Or can be fixed via your own means. Up to you!)
(Nashandra)
Yorrick fought his hardest, roaring in anger as he unleashed waves and waves of flames upon Nashandra, laying waste to the field around them. It was briefly distracting, the level of destruction. Trees knocked in half, grass burnt to ashes, the land itself burning and torn up, this was what two magi could do when they were mad. He would go to attack once more, he felt he needed to win this, to prove himself..... But then he outstretched a hand and nothing happened, no flames shot out.

He was out of mana.... His magic had failed him for the first time. Every few minutes he managed to cast at least one spell, but it wasn't enough. He felt her teeth sink into his arm and he'd roar in pain before he felt himself knocked to the ground, Nashandras monsterous form quickly crawling on him and going in for the kill he thought. He saw the slug and reacted in shock and horror, trying to move his head away but to no avail, thankfully she quickly bit it in half..... only for acid to fall onto his chest.

His silver shirt did not burn, but it quickly soaked through the shirt and into his skin, leaving a horrible wound and he could feel himself grow a bit sick. Not infected, yet.... poisoned.

He sat up, his chest burning and his nose bleeding, an odd silvery tint to the blood, he looked to her and saw she had calmed down, so he simply began to try and make his exit.
(Yorrick Azar)
No more headaches. No more crippling depression. Was this how it felt to be relieved of the burden she had been plagued with? Her body ached, but it was nothing to what she once felt. Sure, she still lacked the purpose she sought to uphold now that they were all accomplished. But, with her Greyrot stabilized ... She no longer sought to fall into nihilism without said purpose.

Nashandra stayed quiet for a while next to Yorrick, absorbing the liberation she had undergone and the strong boost in power she had acquired. Selfish, really, but it was something the homunculus was desperate for. It'd only be after a good moment that she'd turn her head toward Yorrick.

Apologetic eyes, glanced at the man in pain, as she felt her poison reek havoc in his body. It wouldn't last long, as it would generalize itself in his being, and relieve him on the severe, initial pain.

"I am sorry, Mister Yorrick. I did not ... Expect this. I ..."

Immobile, but her voice shaking, the homunculus displayed an odd amount of humanity this time around.

"... Thank you."

She whispered.
(Nashandra)
Yorrick would clutch a hand to his chest, the acid slightly burning his hand as well though most of it had gone into his chest.

He'd look to Nashandra as she went to apologize. He wanted to be angry, however she hadn't been in her right mind at the time, so he'd just sigh and give a bit of a grown as he went to speak, coughing lightly, his voice pained.

"Y-yeah man. Don't worry about it. Its all good dude. Just uh, warn me ahead of time that we'll be fighting next time, I'll come prepared. Yee-ouch." He'd yelp with a shake of his head. When she whispered her thanks he'd raise a hand to the air as he limped off. "No problem dude. Anytime." And then he would return home to treat his horribly painful injury
(Yorrick Azar)