05-05-2018, 02:00 PM
That was the plan of course, but not at the same time. Serraph doubted his own ability to reconstruct the building from this distance. He’d have to get closer to have a ghost of a chance. Even if he could, fire eats paper for breakfast. He’d be reduced to a pile of carbon dust before he’d even have the chance to raise his hand. The mage’s magic was the ideal solution. It was the distance that the spells held that would be the most useful in this situation. The Arrancar would raise the ebon rod, its sparkling crystal radiating its light as Serraph tapped into it, syncing it with his own power.
Serraph could feel the artifact’s magical essence tingle against his fingertips. It was something both familiar and foreign to him. Spiritual energy was more quantifiable than this magic. It was easier to calculate and easier to study, at least at first glance. This magic seemed sporadic and hard to control, even Serraph’s mind had trouble wrapping his mind around such a power. Until such a thing could be done, he’d have to mix in his own little touch.
Serraph would frown as he extended his spiritual reach within the weapon, the Reiryoku, or spiritual energy within his body, would ebb its way down the ebon shaft, linking with the magical orb at the end. The energy lashed and clawed at the calm and slowly progressing power that sought to harness it but even then, as the tendrils of crimson power wrapped around the glowing orb, it would succumb to Serraph. In the chaotic power resting within he could hear its sweet whispers. These whispers would give him its secrets, the spells that it was familiar with.
“A truly marvelous weapon, M’lady”, Serraph spoke, pointing the radiating orb towards the roaring flames ahead. “I aim to disturb the foundation of that building. I implore you to follow suit.”
“ To collapse the plant is a request I can surely grant. When the flames finally wane, a jet of water will prove to be its bane”.
“Precisely, Mage”, Serraph would say with a smirk A circle of untainted light would burn at the Arrancars feet as the power within channeled into the staff. The orb glowed in a rusty reddened hue. His lips began to part, his lungs bringing forth the word that would activate the spell. But the word never came. Instead a shrieking voice in the crowd would be sent out, settling three horrid words within Serraph’s now uneasy core.
“SLAY THE MURDERERS!!”
The spell was already beginning to burst free from the staff. The bullet had been fired. Serraph couldn’t stop in time nor could the little one. Chunks of rubble were thrown at the pair of primes, most of which would never meet their mark. These people were up until recently starving. Their strength had not returned to them. Serraph serged his essence into the ebon shaft of the staff, rushing the spell’s Execution. The earth beneath a corner would displace, the building crumbling and collapsing into its structural supports. Shantotto would make a bigger impact on the already weakened building but even then it wasn’t enough.
Once Serraph was free from the spell’s commitment he’d reach down in a hurried fashion, his arms scooping up the tiny Tarutaru. “We have to leave. Its too dangerous here.”, he’d inform the Lady before taking off, his shoes nearly gliding across the sandy road. The crowd charged but their weak and frail bodies couldn’t hope to catch the pair. "Keep quiet", Serraph advised. Shantotto would begin to reply but would be silenced by a gloved hand that moved to press against her lips. "Quiet.", Serraph spoke in a hushed tone. He could nearly feel the little one's frustration, but now wasn't the time for such things. The Arrancar would weave through the various side roads and alleyways, his eyes scanning about to find a place to rest and wait out that terrible storm. No doubt the fire was still raging, but it wasn't something they could deal with until the angry crowd dispersed.
"There" he'd mutter, his eyes catching a wooden door seemingly out of place in the narrow alleyway they were fleeing through. He'd wager that most of these outlying homes were abandoned due to the previous raider population. There was a good chance it would be free for them to acquire for the night. He'd stop outside the door, his shoes kicking up dust as he slid to a stop. He'd throw his shoulder into the weak wooden door, breaking it free from the wooden latch. Quickly he'd scan the room. Personal effects no longer existed but there was a single table and a bed of cloth and straw that took up most of this particular apartment. Serraph would quickly toss Shantotto onto the bed before turning to break off the remaining pieces.
Serraph would pause, his ears catching wind of the crowd as it reached further deeper into this area's web of alleys and streets. His hands went immediately to work, the radiant light of his omnilinium flaring into the space the door once stood. Brick by brick a new wall would be hastily made. It didn't need to be perfect. This part of town was already quite ragtag. It need only to deceive the pursuers. He'd bite hard into his lips, a trail of black ink trailing from the corners of his mouth as he concentrated. His body burned the more he rushed the formation of this wall.
He could hear their footsteps now as they pounded down the alley. His mind screamed and his body ached, but by the time the crowd got close, he had already finished. His exhausted body would slump against the brick patching, his silver eyes glancing at the tiny window to see angry faces pass by, frantically searching for Serraph and Shantatto. He'd turn over, his back resting against the wall.
"The fire is important, but we are no use to the King dead."
Serraph could feel the artifact’s magical essence tingle against his fingertips. It was something both familiar and foreign to him. Spiritual energy was more quantifiable than this magic. It was easier to calculate and easier to study, at least at first glance. This magic seemed sporadic and hard to control, even Serraph’s mind had trouble wrapping his mind around such a power. Until such a thing could be done, he’d have to mix in his own little touch.
Serraph would frown as he extended his spiritual reach within the weapon, the Reiryoku, or spiritual energy within his body, would ebb its way down the ebon shaft, linking with the magical orb at the end. The energy lashed and clawed at the calm and slowly progressing power that sought to harness it but even then, as the tendrils of crimson power wrapped around the glowing orb, it would succumb to Serraph. In the chaotic power resting within he could hear its sweet whispers. These whispers would give him its secrets, the spells that it was familiar with.
“A truly marvelous weapon, M’lady”, Serraph spoke, pointing the radiating orb towards the roaring flames ahead. “I aim to disturb the foundation of that building. I implore you to follow suit.”
“ To collapse the plant is a request I can surely grant. When the flames finally wane, a jet of water will prove to be its bane”.
“Precisely, Mage”, Serraph would say with a smirk A circle of untainted light would burn at the Arrancars feet as the power within channeled into the staff. The orb glowed in a rusty reddened hue. His lips began to part, his lungs bringing forth the word that would activate the spell. But the word never came. Instead a shrieking voice in the crowd would be sent out, settling three horrid words within Serraph’s now uneasy core.
“SLAY THE MURDERERS!!”
The spell was already beginning to burst free from the staff. The bullet had been fired. Serraph couldn’t stop in time nor could the little one. Chunks of rubble were thrown at the pair of primes, most of which would never meet their mark. These people were up until recently starving. Their strength had not returned to them. Serraph serged his essence into the ebon shaft of the staff, rushing the spell’s Execution. The earth beneath a corner would displace, the building crumbling and collapsing into its structural supports. Shantotto would make a bigger impact on the already weakened building but even then it wasn’t enough.
Once Serraph was free from the spell’s commitment he’d reach down in a hurried fashion, his arms scooping up the tiny Tarutaru. “We have to leave. Its too dangerous here.”, he’d inform the Lady before taking off, his shoes nearly gliding across the sandy road. The crowd charged but their weak and frail bodies couldn’t hope to catch the pair. "Keep quiet", Serraph advised. Shantotto would begin to reply but would be silenced by a gloved hand that moved to press against her lips. "Quiet.", Serraph spoke in a hushed tone. He could nearly feel the little one's frustration, but now wasn't the time for such things. The Arrancar would weave through the various side roads and alleyways, his eyes scanning about to find a place to rest and wait out that terrible storm. No doubt the fire was still raging, but it wasn't something they could deal with until the angry crowd dispersed.
"There" he'd mutter, his eyes catching a wooden door seemingly out of place in the narrow alleyway they were fleeing through. He'd wager that most of these outlying homes were abandoned due to the previous raider population. There was a good chance it would be free for them to acquire for the night. He'd stop outside the door, his shoes kicking up dust as he slid to a stop. He'd throw his shoulder into the weak wooden door, breaking it free from the wooden latch. Quickly he'd scan the room. Personal effects no longer existed but there was a single table and a bed of cloth and straw that took up most of this particular apartment. Serraph would quickly toss Shantotto onto the bed before turning to break off the remaining pieces.
Serraph would pause, his ears catching wind of the crowd as it reached further deeper into this area's web of alleys and streets. His hands went immediately to work, the radiant light of his omnilinium flaring into the space the door once stood. Brick by brick a new wall would be hastily made. It didn't need to be perfect. This part of town was already quite ragtag. It need only to deceive the pursuers. He'd bite hard into his lips, a trail of black ink trailing from the corners of his mouth as he concentrated. His body burned the more he rushed the formation of this wall.
He could hear their footsteps now as they pounded down the alley. His mind screamed and his body ached, but by the time the crowd got close, he had already finished. His exhausted body would slump against the brick patching, his silver eyes glancing at the tiny window to see angry faces pass by, frantically searching for Serraph and Shantatto. He'd turn over, his back resting against the wall.
"The fire is important, but we are no use to the King dead."
"Mine eyes hath seen the glory of the presence of my Lord. He is sifting through the treasures in which his Gates of Wrath does store. He lets loose the righteous vengeance of his terrible swift swords. Gilgemesh has returned!"