RP:Ahkall's Lingering Hunger
Bridge Across the Void
Hemlock Way continues east and west, and is divided here by an abyssal gorge that cracks the land in twain, to what depths one can scarce imagine. Passage would be impossible were it not for a massive bridge spanning the void. Entrance to the bridge is gained at either end through the vast stone depiction of twin dire wolf-heads, each maw gaping widely enough to allow a wide and sturdy walkway to pass below, almost as though one is entering the bridge upon their ebon tongues. The bridge arches toward the center, and along each side, standing as if on guard, are set various gargoyles in the form of winged monsters that are at once terrifying and noble in aspect. The bridge itself has been heavily fortified with protective magics and brilliant engineering both, and is highly unlikely to fall to ruin even under the most enormous strain.
Kasyr had left little to chance after his descent into the depths of the ravine. Even as plumes of debris spiraled up into the air from his violent landing, he was forcing himself into motion once more- his actions guided by a dread awareness of the creature which dwelled within the depths of his soul, and it's voracious appetite. The seamstress, Stitch, had been sent out on her errand- but the Revenant had no appetite for idly waiting as the monster within him grew restless- waiting on the possibility of aid arriving. Instead, the Kensai had taken to one of the many tunnels within the depths of the Ravine, plunging headlong into the darkness- to lose himself amidst dark passages rife with tribal trolls, massive arachnids, and other creatures of a far more unnatural nature- grown fat off the refuse of the necropolis. It's here, in this foreboding maze- that the Revenant would gradually lose himself, choosing to retreat into the depths of his own mind and fortify himself. The last purposeful action the Kensai makes, amidst a sea of carnage and broken bodies, is the purposeful manifestation of a single black katana- a vile replica, and yet one which bore marks of it's insidious sibilant progenitor.
Christian had felt the crash, the manifestation of dark whispers which played upon the air in serpentine, sinister fashion; it's what drew him there, to that chasm, the gorge which he'd stair down upon from the safety of Vailkrin's threshold. "I know you're there," he'd whisper, murmur into the abyss as if expecting it to answer back to him; alas, he was met with only silence, no guidance offered from the maw-like ravine. He wasn't sure what to do, he'd for the first time, be filled with an overwhelming reluctance. Was this fear? That aching hole in his stomach, ceaselessly, relentlessly urging him to go forward, yet restrain him simultaneously. Breathe in, breathe out -- eyelids shut, fell to shield his mind from unnecessary environmental cues; fight it was, he didn't have an option, it was his brother, and he couldn't allow himself the regret of future, misplaced guilt. The Kensei reunited with an ally he had forsaken long ago, forever severing a bond which connected their very essences; nothing could ever break their friendship, though, could never shred soul-bound sentiment. To the wind, he offered his body, setting it into a free-fall from the bridge, aimed toward the darkness which emanated from the land below -- he wasn't sure where he'd land, where the air would guide him, though he trusted that it wouldn't lead him astray. From the mirrored dove wings markings upon his back, light shined forth, as if called from the heavens themselves, manifesting into a set of ethereal, vaguely angelic wings which rested upon his mantle; though lacking corporeality, they'd catch in the wind, feathers rustled the whims of an unseen force before extending outward, leveling the Kensei, urging the very element which he had thrust himself into to heed his call, soften his fall. Ultimately, it offer him a supernatural grace which allowed a peaceful descent to the ground, feet planted firmly upon the ground, safety from any of the jagged rocks which yearned to taste the sky.
Iintahquohae is on her way to the bridge again, but this time she had bit of rope slung over one shoulder that probably wasn't even close to being long enough to reach the bottom of the chasm. She couldn't imagine what might be lurking around down there. As she reaches the bridge she spots Christian, and is just about to shout to get his attention before he jumps off. Inks seems to have a wonderful knack for being too slow to react lately. She approaches the edge of the bridge and throws one end of the rope down after anchoring the other end. Her little chunk of glowing stone is tugged out of her pocket and held between her teeth so she can at least see what's just in front of her face on the way down. Before she can let her better judgment speak up in the back of her mind, the seamstress climbs over the edge of the bridge, grabs onto the rope, and begins what she assumes to be a very lengthy climb down.
Ahkall felt the submission of the Kensai to relinquish that hold over his body; the opportunity wasn't squandered for the wyrm. But Kasyr didn't change as physically as he had before when the monster of a creature had gained control of his body. Instead, the eyes of the male with calico-cat ears shifted to a solid, but mercurial darkness. There were neither irises nor pupils, and a distinct lack of whites. The teeth of the Revenant glinted in the shadows of the caverns, as they altered slightly also to many jagged, sharpened points of rows of teeth. Although the rest of the body was Kasyr in every way, it was the conscious of the one with such an insatiable hunger, such an addiction to violence. From the darkness of the depths beneath the bridge, the body of Kasyr stepped forward into the subtle light offered by the appearance of Riss; head was cocked to the side, and that sharp-toothed smile was unnaturally wide. Kasyr's mouth was, quite literally, drooling with a ravenous hunger.
Christian | Perhaps it was the uncontrollable dark energies which swirled around Kasyr, unseen, yet felt in the form of a shiver which struck at the Kensei's very core; perhaps it was his brother's lack of an arrogant, self-absorbed greeting; regardless, Christian felt an immediate uneasiness in the presence of someone he knew so well, someone who had been strung directly to his soul by a trio of balancing deities. All was made clear when Akhall had stepped into the light emitted by his wings, a light which vibrantly illuminated the immediate area before being consumed by the void; that blood-thirsting grin, that drool-drenched lower lip: it was familiar, and Christian couldn't quite place where he'd encountered it prior to this very moment, but one thing, he knew, "You're not him," was spoken with conviction, syllables passing from lips with persistent indignation. The desire for carnage, the sheer hunger which poured forth from his brother was unlike any he'd faced; it was inhuman, savage, as if pulled from the deepest reaches of primordial desire. In attempt to counteract, as if to intimidate before inevitable conflict, the wings upon Christian's back nearly became blinding, radiating light of near-blinding nature. "Get out," he'd state, simply, voice lacking any sign of fear, any emotion at all: only stoicism, apathy which matched his desire for justice, his wanton lust for balance in this world: whatever captivated his brother so had no place, no means to justify its existence.
Iintahquohae reached the end of her rope sooner than anticipated. There was still a long way to go. The tiny bit of glowing stone between her teeth provided enough light for her to just barely make out ledges on the way down that she could climb from, but leaving the rope wasn't exactly comforting. She continued very carefully making her way down to the bottom, and eventually caught a glimpse of light that didn't come from her glowing stone. At least now she had a general idea of where Kasyr and Riss might be. Before her feet eventually met the ground, she called out toward the blinding light, which the seamstress knew probably wasn't the smartest thing to do. "Kasyr? Riss?" She spit out the glowing stone and tucked it away in her pocket immediately afterward in hopes that wouldn't stick out in the darkness as much if something else was alerted to her presence.
Kasyr may not be the brutish figure facing the Kensai, but that does not mean he's wholly unaware of his brother's presence- even as he rests shrouded within the depths of his own soul. With that recognition comes a certain degree of dark humour, one that echoes through the expanses of the Revenants spirit- and which heralds a very particular nudge at the back of Ahkalls mind. After all, just as the Wyrm sought to influence the Kensai through their interlinked souls, the inverse is also more than applicable- though the revenant's choosing a more subtle means. Simply put, Christian's proximity is enough to herald a warning from Kasyr- a simple acknowledgement of what grave danger Riss poses, especially when Ahkall rests deprived of certain aspects of Kasyr's strength. Or at least, is currently deprived of- lest the Wyrm offer up sufficient tribute.
Christian | Indignation's winged form flared, outstretching from Christian's back in sheer fury, feathered tips yearning to break into the corporeal, outstretching its essence into reality with each passing moment the beast simply stood, a puppeteer to his brother; an invisible, menacing marionette which tainted the bonds of soul and sanity. Unyielding, fearless steps distinguished the Kensei's stride, mere yards away from the possessing essence of Ahkall, slow -- calculated. powerful, causing the taint of Vailkrin's forsaken soil to recoil, pulse outward from his feet in ripples which cracked terrain beneath boots. "You've been warned, monster." The Kensei's movements were, undoubtedly, quick; however, Kasyr's body held the capacity to read them -- unless, of course, the true owner of that body would manipulate perception from within: the outline of Christian's form shifted to and fro, a ballerina which danced a dangerous pirouette between the real, and that which doesn't exist, the world which harbors both fantastical dreams and nightmarish horrors alike -- he became a ghost, a phantasm of the aether with a sole objective: liberation, freedom from the shackles of demonic influence. Indignation provided the balance necessary to maneuver at such close range, enhanced logic to make movements upon a moment's notice: something was different, though -- something had changed within the Kensei; or, more specifically, a being which shared his body, an entity which often remained dormant, one which rarely exhibited sheer wrath. This taint, a corruption which caused the very air to writhe, shrill in agony, had awakened a new, yet incomplete aspect of its power: purity, in all things, a direct link between mind and body; absolute synergy. The immediate area surrounding Christian's hands glowed, faint at first, though as he reached Kasyr, it was far from -- the energy's luminosity held no limitation's, as if pulled from the boundless capacity for goodness of its wielder. Retaliation was expected, though an attempt at lunging both palms directly toward Kasyr's chest would be made, the unhindered element of holiness seeking to infiltrate and polish, untarnish the soul upon connection; if, in all likelihood, the head-on assault would not connect, the energy wouldn't immediately lunge forth like the former form of Amos. It'd simply hover around those out-lashing appendages, only to wait for the most opportune time to strike.
Kasyr doesn't need to be in charge of the body he's residing in to feel the tension building within it, to perceive the subtle changes in posture and coiling of muscles as the beast that directed his actions readied itself to face the Kensai. As deeply entrenched as the Revenant is within the sea of souls that compromises his essence, these fine details (and many others) haven't been entirely lost on him- something that has made his isolation all the more terrible. And yet, Kasyr had continued to bide his time- even as Ahkall's appetite for flesh and carnage ran unchecked, and Gospel whispered sibilant solutions. The kensai had chosen to wait for the perfect moment. To wait until now. Whatever grim rebuttal Ahkall may have planned for Riss, it never quite comes to fruition- as the Kensai within the Phantasmal Wyrm takes that moment to invoke Empera. The manifestation is not one of a physical nature, as it's not the weapon's form that is desired, but instead spiritual- that peculiar incarnation of temperance roused from it's slumber within the Revenant's soul, serving as a singularity of holy energy within the otherwise unhallowed creatures spirit. A beacon within the revenant's tainted essence, and one that swiftly finds itself growing all the brighter as the Kensai invokes his particular connections with Daedria, fueling it's light with the power bequethed upon him when he became that Goddesses sword. No doubt, it's agonizing for Ahkall, and the vestiges of Gospel which remain in Kasyr- but simple pain is not the Revenant's agenda. Rather, the intention is meant to disrupt the vile creature's hold upon him- so that he might take back control of the sea of souls within him, robbing Ahkall of an advantage before he can attempt to capitalize upon it.
Iintahquohae 's feet finally hit the ground. The light in the distance is the only landmark she's able see, unfortunately. She could only assume that's where Kasyr and Riss were, but wasn't too sure. Instead of wandering over, Inks hangs back by the wall she climbed down from. There wasn't really much she could do to help, as far as she knew.
Christian | As Christian's palms connected with Kasyr's chest, light poured forth from his hands, as if Amos had felt the need to best the radiance of Empera; while, this would surely cause the beast within his brother to loosen its hold, it served another function entirely. From those hands, a web poured forth, a means of connecting archaic runes which etched themselves from the inside-out into Kasyr's skin in rapid succession; it's as if they desired to pull the very essence of Ahkall from the Revenant as the Kensei's hands released contact, a mass of sheer darkness which writhed within the prismatic prison which streamed between the brotherly duo. The Kensei's eyes fell shut, an attempt at making contact with Empera for aid in his endeavor; though it wasn't entirely needed, the added force would, without a questionable doubt, deal the final blow as Christian's palms thrust back toward Kasyr's chest: if contact were made, it'd act as an attempt to shatter the soul-fragment between the runes carved upon his brother's body, an attempt at decimating consolidated consciousness. Kasyr, being vampiric, may very well feel an immense amount of pain during the procedure...it'd nearly bring joy into the mix of emotions the Kensei felt toward the situation. Silver linings.
Kasyr's body slackens the very moment Ahkall's essence is entangled within that shimmering construct of Christian's creation. For a few brief seconds it stands, wavering upon it's feet- until Riss' palms slam against the Revenants chest, and send the vampire's form teetering over, to splay out across the ground. Kasyr does not lie still for long, as the inner turmoil of his consciousness rushing to take it's place anew, and the overwhelming sensations which come from within and without are more than enough to send his body into all manner of unnatural contortions. It's a good few moments before the Revenant gains enough awareness to realize that he's screaming, an unwholesome strangled sound that mirrors the disjointed agony working it's way through his essence. And that masks that secondary darkness which lay unchecked- lurking within Akhalls tattered Remnants.
Iintahquohae ;; At sound of unpleasant screams, the seamstress grimaces and claps her hands over her ears to try blocking out some of the sound. While doing so, she starts cautiously walking in the general direction of Kasyr and Riss. "What's going on?" she asks, but assumes it might've been drowned out by the screams. "Is he okay?"
Christian seemed to calm entirely after Kasyr toppled over; was he... smiling? Yes, yes he was, a smile which grew with each agonizing scream released from his brother. Indignation's wings had faded; the light which engulfed the Kensei's hands? Gone. "I saved your friggin' life! Boo-ya! Not that we're keeping score, or anything, but if we were, me: one, you: zero. I can't hear your screams over the deafening sound of my awesomeness." Good ol' Riss, as much of an asshat as he was before Indignation weaseled its way into practically taking over his soul, robbing him of practically all emotion. "No need to thank me, Miss."
Christian said to Iintahquohae, "Psht. He's not dead."
Kasyr 's voice grows hoarse, and then cut's out, even as the spasms continue to to rack his body, even -growing- in intensity. With every quake, the Revenant's body would seem to distort- as though it were attempting to reject the changes that had been forced upon it during Ahkall's occupation fo his body. It's with a particularily sharp shudder that his eyes jut open once more, splotches of amber and crimson blossoming from amidst the still inky pools- briefly painting the Revenants eyes with a look reminiscent of clarity, before they grow dull with pain. It's then that the Revenant's arms twist back, even as something seems to writhe within his sleeves- restlessly churning in the Kensai's flesh. Briefly, it might even look like the shadows in the Revenants sleeve had turned solid, like the darkness had been pushed into the form of solid scales. At least until Kasyr slumps back once more, his eyes staring blankly upwards, the amber quality all but drowned beneath countless red flecks which have since appeared.
Iintahquohae frowned at Riss. Sure he wasn't dead, but - her thought is cut off while watching Kasyr. "Is he okay, though?" She steps closer to the Revenant and offered a hand to help him up. "What happened anyway? Do you two just jump off of high places often or something?"
Satoshi hadn't realized how heavily she relied upon that shared frosted band to locate Kasyr at any given moment, until it had stopped providing such a means. She hadn't realized it, until it was too late to grab for frayed ends. Iintahquohae's letter of warning had been the reason Satoshi returned the ring to her fingers, after having removed it in the revenant's absence from the lands--the magus had dreaded the idea of sensing anything gone wrong and being helpless to do anything, continents away from Kasyr. When the ring was back in its proper place, she'd been greeted with a cacophony of chaotic energy, fragments of the familiar entangled with too many other emotions and essences to understand. All she knew for certain was that Kasyr was nearby, as much from the ring as from Iintahquohae's note. But where exactly? Satoshi had been trying to determine that since the moment she'd arrived in Vailkrin in a frantic flurry of snowdust and mist. Still humming with a whirlwind of energy, the ring resided pointlessly on her hand. Every dark alley, hidden nook, forgotten ditch, and even seedy tavern of the twilight city had been searched to no avail. She'd all but given up, when vulpine ears caught the all-too-familiar voice resonating in heart-wrenching tones from the abyssal depths beneath Vailkrin's bridge. With a demeanor of uncertainty uncommon for her, Satoshi inches toward the bridge's railing and peers over the edge, silently wishing she had not heard those cries, and knowing she had found what she was looking for. "Kasyr..."
Christian walked off at some point. Likely after his heroic posing.
Kasyr doesn't exactly react to Iintahquohae's presence at first, his gaze still locked heavenwards. It's only when she extends a hand towards him that he acknowledges her at all, his gaze tilting towards her position, though seemingly too erratic to be able to focus upon her for long.
Iintahquohae 's gaze followed Kasyr's upward, but wasn't quite sure what he was looking at. The only thing that she could think of was that he'd probably need to be lifted up and out of this place, and she didn't have any real way to pull that off herself. She didn't really want to stay down there for very much longer either. Squinting, the seamstress calls upward at what she can sort of make out as a humanoid head-shape peeking over the edge. "Hey! We're kind of stuck down here..." She fished through her pockets for the little chunk of glowing stone again to dimly light the immediate area around her hand, and waved it around a bit. "We're over here if you can reach us!"
Satoshi can't help it, her first response at the call for help is a narrowing of her eyes and a jealous jerk of her tail. Who is this female voice calling out, 'We'? Satoshi half-expects a chastising trill from Ko'tar as per usual, but the sword lies dormant at her hip as it has these past weeks. Without the typical reprimand to break this possessive train of thought, the magus is left grumbling darkly to herself as she begins a haphazard trek down the cliff-face. Spikes of resentment struggle against waves of apprehension and concern; one moment hating the woman who hailed her, and the next fretting over her husband. Distracted as she is with tumultuous emotions, the kit's footing is less than graceful, resulting in more than one slip-up, slide, or tumble. By the time Satoshi reaches the bottom, she's as much a physical mess as she is an emotional one, clothing and hair disheveled and smudged with dirt, jagged rips marking sleeves and skin alike. Upon spotting Iintahquohae, the magus' eyes narrow to slits before just as quickly widening in surprise. "Lady Stitch..?" What is she doing he-- Any further thoughts of the seamstress (for good or ill) are forgotten in this instance, as Satoshi catches sight of Kasyr. With a half-strangled sound, the foxkin rushes forward and drops to her knees almost simultaneously, so that she skids to a halt beside the revenant. Hands are outstretched, hovering over him anxiously without making contact, as if she's afraid to touch him. "Kasyr?"
Kasyr , between the rigours of possession, liberation, and alteration- is only somewhat cognisant, fighting even now to cling to consciousness, if only because the alternative is somewhat worse. Occasionally, his attention drifts back to Iintahquohae- but for the most part, he slips in and out of bleary sort of introspection. It's enough that when he initially becomes aware of Satoshi, he can't help but wonder if he's delirious, or simply thinking about her. Either way, he offers a hoarse croak, and a far-too-pointed, and pained smile in response to his wife's query. If she was real, maybe he could get a break.
Iintahquohae makes an audible sigh of relief that the person that climbed down was somebody familiar. She almost smiled. "Satoshi, oh thank goodness…I don't know what happened to him but Riss was her-" the seamstress would've continued, but stopped herself when Satoshi rushed past her to Kasyr. He really didn't look good. "Should I go get somebody to help?" She was already blindly feeling her way toward the wall to find her rope and start climbing back up. It was the only thing that the seamstress could come up with doing.
Satoshi glances over her shoulder at Iintahquohae to say, "No, I'll take care of him." The last fading remnants of undue jealousy cause a slight delay before she adds, "Thank you." A nod is offered to the seamstress then as Satoshi looks back at Kasyr, concern clearly written on her face. With fingers as light and cold as snowflakes, the magus presses her hand to his cheek, the frosted ring upon it thrumming once in response to the contact with its twin's keeper. Lightly Satoshi strokes the revenant's face, her movements painstakingly gentle despite an urge to drag Kasyr into a fierce and smothering hug. "What happened?" The question is spoken to Kasyr, but something in the kit's tone carries an invitation for Iintahquohae to answer.
Kasyr offer's Satoshi another smile, though this one lacks the warmth of the last one, and lingers for a few moments more- meant more to showcase the unpleasent array of fangs he's since acquired. It's only after that allows himself to nuzzle against her hands, a look of tired relief creeping across his features. That she's actually there is enough to actually coax him into a faltering bit of movement, one hand gingerly stretching out, if only so he can rest the back of his hand against her leg.
Christian is no longer there, but his awesomeness lingers.
Christian ... in the form of Kasyr's agony.
Satoshi's wifely nursing skills counterbalance the Riss Awesome with sheer D'aww power.
Iintahquohae ;; "No need to thank me, really...I didn't really do anything. I guess Riss did." She shrugged. Iintahquohae really didn't know what had happened, and she wasn't sure if her explanation to Satoshi would be of any use. "Kasyr was acting unusual, jumped down here, and Riss did the same. There were some lights, but I don't really know where they came from." She looked over at Satoshi and Kasyr for a moment, then turned back to feeling around for the end of her rope. "I'm going to start heading up." Being in the dark made her nervous, but she wouldn't admit it. "See you two at the top."
Satoshi is fairly certain "Riss did it" is a completely thorough explanation for any and all tragedies, catastrophes, and questionable misconducts. For now, she doesn't need any more answer than this. Only an ear swivels back to acknowledge Iintahquohae's departure, with the rest of Satoshi's attention on the prone revenant. After she's carefully adjusted him so that her lap doubles as a pillow, the magus' fingers fret at his hair and she voices small sounds of worry and reassurance. She has no intentions of going anywhere just yet. She's found her husband, that's all she's concerned with. The path back to Vailkrin will still be there when Kasyr finds his feet once more.