My father says that almost the whole world is asleep...

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when you lose small mind you free your life
spirals 2
thewake_mods wrote in thewakelogs
What: The final fight for Nautilus' survival.
When: NOW
Where: All around the City of Change.
Notes: Attacks in groups should be done as threads. For all others, just tag the entry itself. If you have IC planning to do, pop it in its own post; this should be for the fight itself. Give it your all, everyone! If you have questions, contact a mod.

It was a chance, and it was all Nautilus could do.

The Aeon of Change had gathered his strength. He had struck where it would hurt the devourer corruptor thief poison most. He had given that desperately needed opening.

He could do no more.

A whisper was all he could manage, flowing like water into the minds of Wakened Angelii Ashura Deva who fought.


It was up to them.

The Deva of Music perched atop one of the many Cybertronian-esque buildings in the Western District, watching as the Aeon of Change finally – finally! – fought back.

"Golly, it's about time," he muttered. To anyone else, the big smile that spread over his face would have seemed out of place; too satisfied – too relieved, even – to be appropriate for the situation.

But Hekket was relieved. And he was intensely satisfied.

This whole thing had been a heck of a lot more touch-and-go than he thought it'd be. Luring the devouring Aeon in had been the easy part; Nautilus had been raised up so high, it might as well have been on a silver platter! But gee, he hadn't counted on the darn thing being such a tough opponent.

Ah well. It would end now, one way or the other. And whichever way it went, there'd be plenty of extra juice for him to scoop up.

Ash swirled around one of his hands, forming into a long, wicked-looking dagger. He could help out, he guessed. With the power he'd gained and the heart exposed and pulsing up above, he could cause a heck of a lot of damage. He could ensure this thing ended with Nautilus' Wakened as the victors.

... But where would be the fun in that?

The dagger disappeared, and Hekket settled himself more comfortably on his perch. For now, his only contribution would be letters in the sky, and a helpful arrow to mark their target. That done, he'd simply sit back and enjoy the show.

It'd be a lot more entertaining that way.

Edited at 2012-06-16 06:16 pm (UTC)

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Peter couldn't read the message in the sky, but he could hear the whisper in his head -- and it didn't take a grown-up to tell that the big, black thing in the sky was something one ought to be rid of. Still, contrary to popular belief, he wasn't so reckless as to attack it with solely his dagger.

The white column of light he'd seen was clear enough call to attack, but Peter had no cannons. He should have a cannon. But those generally came with pirate ships. Peter decided he should get a pirate ship, like the Jolly Roger. He should have a Jolly Roger.

Luckily for him, he found one almost as soon as he'd thought of it! Peter congratulated himself on his ingenuity and quickly hopped aboard. With a bit of pixie dust, he managed to get it in the air. Once that was taken care of, Peter knew he needed a crew; Since the Lost Boys weren't around, he decided to put out a call for extra hands on deck.

Soon he had a decent-sized crew, and the promise of more from Caesar, who offered to ferry any willing sailors back and forth in his own flying machine; and GLaDOS, who would send reinforcements using the magic gun she gave him. Those of Peter's crew who had powers could use them from the deck, and those who couldn't could man the cannons or fire whatever projectiles suited their fancy.

Ship afloat and crew assembled, the crew of the Jolly Roger set sail, Peter at the helm, and anchored the ship -- in midair, mind you, because he's Peter Pan and he can do anything. They were stopped near the heart of the Dark Aeon, within the range of the Jolly Roger's cannons.

"Ready?" Peter called to his crew once they were in range, "Fire at will!!"

On his own command, Peter slung the Portal Gun that GLaDOS gave him over his shoulder and fired it at the deck of the ship, just like she told him to. A Blue Portal opened up in the deck, opening directly into the Aperture Science Enrichment Center.

((ooc: YEAH no posting order, and no official "sign up" thread. If you want to be on the ship, you're on the ship and we'll handwave you getting there. Caesar picked you up and brought you on. Hop in and post. You're in range, attack how you want, don't need my permission for anything 8D))

((There are cannons on the ship, both on deck and below deck, plus whatever other weapons you can think to Bend up. The Blue Portal also has access to Aperture Science. GLaDOS can attack through there, send reinforcements, and also provide a retreat for the wounded, and whatever else Natalie wants to do.))

Edited at 2012-06-17 03:07 am (UTC)


Darkstar hovered in the air, leaving a trail of glittering energy sparkles behind him. Thanks to Lily Evans, he'd been given a full charge and he did not take kindly to being attacked by puddle monsters and giant panther cats, or anything else this dark monstrosity had at its disposal.

It didn't matter now.

Raw energy was coursing through him and he was feeling an ego boost along with it.

"With Pleasure."

With that, he unleashed a blast of golden energy in the enemy's direction.

     "FINALLY!" Edward practically growled, although his exasperated tone was at odds with the dangerous grin on his face. They'd finally been given an opening. He wasn't going to waste the opportunity.

     "Let's do this, Al!" The blond-haired alchemist shouted over at his brother who stood across at the other end of the Eastern plaza. He'd wait for confirmation from his brother before slapping his hands together, dropping to the ground to spread his palms against it.

     The sparks of blue light crackled far and wide across the plaza before and between them, the ground rumbling as the massive shape took form with their combined efforts.

This was it. They weren't going to let this opportunity pass.

The voice rung through his armor, punctuated by his brother's dangerous rejoicing. Al's eyes flickered wildly as they turned away from the injured Aeon toward Edward far on the other side, brightening at the sound of the call. "Okay!"

Metal joints creaked with ease as he followed his brother's lead, gloved hands clapping together prior to being set against the ground below. The same blue light filled the air, energy dancing as everything became something else.

In this case, it was a rather large, ornate cannon.

As it pointed upward, it didn't take long for it to go off.

Now that he no longer had to worry about a possessed pair of bots getting loose and tearing up the city, Ratchet was taking full advantage of the increased power flow. Hovering up above the Medbay in Guardian Mode, he held the Magnus Hammer aloft and summoned a full blow lightning storm. As the clouds gathered, lightning striking the Hammer, Ratchet magnified the blast with bending and sent it hurtling up toward the heart of the Dark Aeon. He could feel the power taxing the Hammer, the weapon not feeling so much energy flow since it had forged the casing of the very AllSpark itself.

It wasn't hard to figure out where the giant storm came from. He hadn't moved to strike quite yet, taking a couple moments to set his garage's turrets to firing on the new enemy.

Just went to show, paranoia had its perks.

He glanced toward the lightning storm, bracing himself for this. And, on sudden, brief hesitation, sent a message over:

:: Think we can do this, old timer? ::

Everyone had some sort of offensive skill up their sleeves and Holiday sort of... didn't. Well, unless you count her guns. She was going to have to think of something creative later, though. Right now, her mind was fully on the fight at hand.

While she was a skilled medic, so were a few other people in Nautilus. Most, if not all, of them were taking the typical approach. Staying back and letting others handle the fighting. If they were killed, who would make repairs? It was a tactic she often took, except for right now. This needed everyone at their disposal and, besides, if someone were hurt on the front, it would be likely that they wouldn't make it to any medics in time.

This is where she was needed. Not to mention that this was a perfect stress reliever.

Instead of flying on her own, she used a piece of earth to levitate for her (in case she was in need of more ammo anyway). Holiday summoned up every missile launcher she could remember that didn't have the use of radiation and fired them all for the heart.

The blow back from them however seemed to break apart her ride... She made a mental note to have the SAMs fly as well, while she tried to not fall to her death. It would really suck being the fourth time.

((ooc: This is for me and Aya so... NO ONE ELSE SAVE HER PLEASE KTHX.))

Edited at 2012-06-17 03:45 pm (UTC)

     He had to hand it to them, when the Wakened were given the ability to go all out, they went all out. If there was one thing he could admit to Nautilus doing right, it was choosing its defenders. He still felt it could work on a lot of other points, timing being one of them. It was better not to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when it came to things like this, and the City had provided them a much needed assist. Time to follow through, then.

     The Harmonian didn't have any heavy artillery to his name, and against a huge Aeon, knives and swords did very little damage. Bombs, on the other hand... But that required getting in close. Maybe he could try working with-

     Nash put that thought on hold as he caught sight of someone flying up from below, throwing a barrage of explosive attacks at the enemy. Well, he had to hand it to Dr. Holiday- she certainly knew how to put on a show, and look good while doing it. ...she might have underestimated the range of backlash just a little, though.

     There wasn't a moment's hesitation. Nash lept from his perch, winking out into a teleport in midair. He reappeared right behind the woman, pushing off from a chunk of rock just as it gave way, throwing his arms out to catch Holiday to teleport to safety before they both plummeted.

Six didn't have much in the way of ranged attacks. His shuriken really didn't go as far as a bullet from a gun. However, the current Bending situation did make things significantly easier.

He was getting especially good with Bending wind thanks to all of this. He easily created a swirling vortex of it heading straight for the target area. He kept an eye on the area directly around him as he brought the wide part of the funnel down over him. Were it not for Bending, he would've been swept up in his own attack. As it was, it was a careful juggling act to keep up the wind speed to suck up debris surrounding him and fling it at the Dark Aeon all while keeping it not just under control but also keeping himself rooted firmly on the ground. It took all of his focus and concentration to maintain the delicate balance.

Given how much she despised the waiting game, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Israfel had put a good deal of her time into checking on the gate to Nautilus or skimming impatiently over the network for any sign of change. Finally, that change had occurred. The call to battle had been sounded, and there was a rather nastily dramatic drop between Kalliste and Nautilus.
She decided not to think about how she'd navigated that. Heights weren't really a problem for her, but the very air felt different on the Nautilus side of things, and that was enough to supply the sense of vertigo that she was normally spared. Suffice to say that she was intensely glad to have reclaimed her feline form before all this, though she'd thus far neglected all the others.

It wasn't hard to puzzle out what this change in the air could be. She was as aware as anyone else of how a variation in the city's vertical position effected the strength and ease of Bending. The rest of the situation didn't take very much detective work either - an Eldritch horror in the sky with a target on its belly, complete with convenient and simple instructions, and already it was under a wide variety of fire.
She was late to the battle.

But here the sorceress-turned-cat had to stop and think. Did she want to fight? Was this what she was here for? At this point, she doubted there was a more subtle - safe - way to help, and if there was, someone else was likely on it already. The prospect was daunting, but she had put a good deal of energy into fussing about her inability to help... and if there was one thing that Israfel strived to avoid, it was hypocrisy.

The first order of business, if she wanted to join the fight, was to get herself in range. Her keen cat eyes tracked the distant fighters. She could make out a variety of methods in use, but was unable to identify all of them from so far away. It would definitely be worth a closer look before she committed herself to any sort of attack.
Bending was the answer to that, too, and now she knew what to do with it. She prayed the drop of Nautilus would be enough to make this next trick work...

... and was pleasantly shocked when it came to her easily.
This had been the most useful of her animalian arsenal, before her Waking. It was smaller and weaker even than the cat, not at all built for a fight, but it was also a swift, tiny, nondescript target, and it could get her exactly where she needed to be.

What took to the air was a little brown lark, darting around the aerial battlefield as she studied her neighbors in action. She wasn't sure what she'd be able to pull off with this new ease of Bending, beyond the shapeshifting she'd specialized in, and she had a feeling that attacking the Dark Aeon with her own claws and teeth wouldn't go over very well. Puddles or not, touching that thing just seemed like a bad idea on general principle.

For the time being, she opted to keep circling, keeping track of the battle and looking for inspiration from the more experienced Benders in the field.

William Jesse looks up at the sky, his heart heavy, his soul conflicted…. His will…. Convicted? The preacher boy knows what is right. He knows what is moral, just, merciful, he knows what is good. He knows what his God, his most beloved God, demands of him. What that God has always demanded. Even looking up at that dark mass overhead, William Jesse’s heart is strangely warmed.

Yes. He knows what he ought to do. That never was the challenge. The courage to act. The bravery to stand firm. The conviction of will necessary… those have always been what he struggled with. William Jesse can not bring himself to attack that creature over head. Even something such as that, even something as cruel and hateful, and yes, even evil, as that creature above, is still a beloved child of God. He can not in good conscious seek the destruction of it.

But the Christian path demands more than mere acceptance. There must be accountability. There can not just be peace, there must also be justice. The preacher boy can respect the Dark Aeon’s right to existence without tolerating the horrid actions it has done or seeks to do. It must be stopped. But he does not need to be violent in order to add to that effort.

Calling upon all the times that the young man has been brave, William Jesse summons forth his prayers. He remembers even the reality storms, and evokes back that brief time as a shining knight, clean of motive and pure of heart. Producing a soft radiance akin to candle light, the preacher opens his hands at his sides. He lifts them up in the most ancient of Christian prayer poses, and opens his heart wide to the power now available in the city.

He starts with the Lord’s Prayer, and he moves through remembered creeds and memorized Bible passages, invoking words of passion and conviction, recalling forth a love that resists evil and defies death. Fear Not, for I am with you, and you are not alone. William Jesse sings in a strong baritone in proper Methodist fashion, and he exhorts and he preaches and he speaks boldly in the manner that got the earliest founders of his denomination banned from churches for fear of causing riots. And from the streets they preached on soapboxes and in the meadows they shouted from stumps, and together, they changed laws and saved souls.

And he strives, with every ounce of his being, to project into this world, into this city that he once feared and that he has come to love, to send out to all the people here, friends and strangers, the virtues of his faith and passion.

Light in the Darkness. Hope in the Face of Despair. Life in defiance of Death. Joy instead of Sorrow. Love instead of Hate. Courage even in the deepest Fear. Healing where there is Sickness. Easing where there is Misery. Strength where there is Weakness. Conviction. Creation. Temperance. Wonder. Faith. Mercy. Justice. All that is good, all that is right, all that is of worth and worthy of love, he sets his mind and heart and soul and song on those things.

William Jesse freely and willingly offers up everything that he has in him, and every hope he has for the brighter and better future that he knows his God yearns for, to this city, and to this fight, and to every heart that is fighting for something worth the striving.


Razer was, of course, the first one to reach the meeting place just east of the museum, as he'd already been in the area. Once the others arrived, they could direct their combined efforts toward creating at least half a dozen more Liberator rockets that would hopefully aid in the destruction of their common foe.

Razer had never wanted to harm innocents and he was slowly, but surely working into the mentality of being pro-active in saving them. He had never had an issue dealing out punishment to those who truly deserved it, however, and the Dark Aeon was no exception. Unfortunately, this also helped to fuel the rage and hate already residing in his heart, his eyes burning like lit coals, every breath expelling crimson smoke.

He'd made a wise choice in keeping the ring in his pocket. That he was certain of, now. His place would be to help with the Liberator rockets and that would have to do.

     With the Dark Aeon's defenses down, Edward was more than eager to give that rocket of doom another shot. Transmuting massive cannons with Alphonse had been somewhat satisfying in its own right, but now it was time to really bring out the big guns.

     It didn't take him long to get to the appointed spot since he'd already been in the Eastern district. Leaving Alphonse to keep at the cannons, the elder Elric came to help Razer out. Once he saw the guy, he waved a hand.


Rex soared up over Nautilus, the thrusters attached to his wings and back leaving a trail of bright blue behind him as he climbed toward the Dark Aeon. He could feel his heart throbbing up in his throat, blood running hot in his veins as his nanites used their super charged status to fuel his offensive maneuvers. Rex had no doubt that he would soon be joined by others, acting as his wing mates, and the idea thrilled him. Perhaps it was because of his first surrogate father in Nautilus, but the idea of flying in formation and utilizing killer attack moves with other airborne fighters was just SO cool.

That didn't mean he was going to wait for anyone else to show up before attacking, however. Oh no. He had a shot as he flew toward the gaping wound that exposed the heart and he was going to take it.

Harrier style wings adjusting, Rex pulled up into hover mode and brought both arm cannons forward. The light and metal constructs took on a brilliant blue glow as they charge, firing a moment later to unleash a devastating cannon blast that sliced through the air and surged straight into the heart of the beast.

     While Soren had no doubt that he probably wouldn't be able to match Rex for speed and maneuverability, he knew where the real power of the black dragons lay. Rising up from the North, the Laguz soared above the city, scanning the skies before angling towards the Aeon's location.

     At least it was easy to locate Rex by that point.

     Pumping his wings, Soren pulled himself higher. He opened his mouth, blue light glowing in a charge as he prepared his attack run. Once he felt he was high enough, the dragon tucked his wings in slightly to angle himself in a dive to take him just beneath his target, energy trailing from his mouth, glowing brighter with each second.

     And then he snapped his wings outward, jerking into a sudden halt in his descent. At the same moment, he thrust his head forward, letting the massive blast of his black breath rocket towards the Aeon's heart. The solid beam of energy ripped through the sky, joining Rex's cannon blast with blinding brilliance.

Good thing he wasn't afraid of heights.

This was nothing but a reverse plane jump. Instead of jumping out of the sky, he was jumping into it. And with Bending as it was, it was a simple enough matter to just... keep on jumping. To extend the reach and speed of his leap until it was basically the same thing as flying.

Sideswipe was, primarily, a close-range combatant. Duck in, hit hard, and get back out again before the enemy even saw him coming. He saw no reason why that wouldn't work now, and drove forward, as fast as he possibly could.

"Hit it with everything you have!" he heard himself shouting. He didn't know if anyone could hear him. It didn't matter -- he did it anyway.

... Ironhide would have done the same thing.

Skyfire did hear.

He had chosen to remain in his root mode. It was far more maneuvrable; that made it easier to fight, and also to avoid any incoming attacks. In normal circumstances that would have meant resigning the extra speed of his shuttle mode. At the moment, however, he could have both. And he intended to take advantage of that.

As soon as he heard Sideswipe's shout, he zoomed towards their enemy, getting as close as possible while still keeping enough distance to dodge quickly if needed. Then he just fired his laser guns, with an extra Bending boost for good measure.

Ain't no kill like Overkill [The Massive]

Tak of course, had been blasting away at the Aeon's heart with the Massive's main gun every chance she got. Which was not exactly negligible in terms of firepower, considering it was more than capable of annihilating a similarly sized ship in a single blast. Though, she suspected the ship had never been tested against a giant, organic target. Oh well, no time like the present!

But she did have this annoyingly 'helpful' image to maintain, which meant she'd have to keep warning everyone before the main gun fired, so they could be sure to get out of the way. Luckily, everyone seemed smart enough to bring their guides along, or at least keep an eye on her ship for the tell-tale glow of a charging blast. She was using hers to broadcast the warnings, though she'd taken great care to make sure the video function was not only locked, but the camera obscured by a combination of black paint and black electrical tape. Just in case it were to turn back on.

"Attention! The Massive is preparing to fire. Please steer clear of the line of fire until the beam has dissipated!" It was a standard warning, and considering the power-up time required for each blast, everyone had a good fifteen seconds or more to clear out of the way. More than enough time really, considering they were all flying.

Never mind that she'd sooner blast them all out of the sky, and turn the guns on the city itself. Unfortunately, the giant creature trying to kill them all was the bigger priority. She'd even constructed a teleporter station for Dib to join her, once he made his way to the station she'd created on the ground. There was even a SIR unit waiting at the receiving bay to guide him to the bridge...and also ensure he didn't go sneaking off to meddle with some other part of the ship.

And right on cue, there went another beam of destructive energy, lighting up the sky and headed straight for the Dark Aeon's heart. She was a bit surprised one blast hadn't been enough, but perhaps in conjunction with everything else the residents were throwing at it, a repeated barrage would be more than enough.

After teleporting onto the Massive - and seriously, that was its name? - Dib was in alien technology heaven. Yes there was a giant horrible creature to destroy and yes they were hopelessly outnumbered and he still couldn't get the hang of Bending, but if he was going to die a horrible death, he'd MUCH rather it be here, in this Irken spaceship, blasting it into pieces.

And Tak, he decided, was a much better enemy-turned-ally than Zim ever was. He could actually turn his back on Tak, and figure out her plans while aiding her.

Of course, she knew how curious and potentially destructive he could be, and so he'd been led near-forcibly onto the bridge to stop him from exploring. He wasn't going to go exploring during a WAR! But...maybe he HAD wanted to plant one or two little spy cameras, just to make sure that Tak wasn't up to anything that didn't have something strictly to do with the defeat of the Dark Aeon.

He buckled himself into a chair and pulled the controls closer to him, going over the differences and similarities to Tak's own ship as he went. It was complicated, but not impossible, and soon enough he was assisting this manic little Irken warrior to defeat her enemy.

Who wants to work with a pissed off kitty cat?

It was said that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

In this case, Hell hath no fury like a cat forced to watch as she attacked those she held in high regard.

She'd been studying Bending with a master at combat Bending, so it came as no surprise that she put it to good use here. Snarling with her wrath and frustration, she hurled stone spike after stone spike towards the target area. There were enough people in the air. No need to continue adding to the clutter.

Feel free to tag team, but again he is a grumbly Cajun

Gambit was not a happy camper. Not after that Pyramid Head bull shit. Not after... Wally.

No. In this fight he was going to work alone. A team would either slow him down or he'd slow them down and he's not going to have that.

... Whether they wanted to jump in now or not is up to them. Let them be stupid on their own right. Either way, with no one around his immediate range, he was using this Bending thing to its full advantage.

Remy's glowed brighter than ever while he walked steadily closer to the Aeon's heart, bringing about everything that pulled with the static his energy was giving off. Things glowed as if a bright magenta bubble had formed around him. This was going to end right now if he had anything to say about it.

His collection of objects, from gravel to lamp posts, flew for the Heart, causing explosions more than ten times their usual size... He could probably do better than that.

HERE COMES THE... blimp.

What's that on the horizon, slowly but steadily making its way toward the battle? It's big, it's grey, and upon its mighty balloon is plastered the face of a hero! ...Maybe.

But yes, here comes the Fenton Blimp!

Danny knew the Fenton Emergency Ops Center was by no means the most intimidating methods of attack out there -- for goodness' sake, it had his dad's face plastered on its side - but it was armed to the teeth. Everything his dad's RV had, and then some. Lasers, guns, missiles, some other things Danny hadn't quite figured out yet. Dad

Of course, somewhere in the back of his mind, Danny knew most of these weapons were designed for him. Maybe not specifically, but close enough. Still, no time to dwell on that now.

Danny sat in the oversized pilot's seat -- well, perfect for dad, oversized for him -- pressing buttons and fiddling with the controls. Luckily, mom had compensated for dad's bad coordination, and programmed some kind of targeting system. Now if he could... just...

"Okay," he finally said, "I think I've figured out the flight controls. If I've got it right, once autopilot's set up, we should be circling safely outside the main battle, but close enough that we can still hit that thing's weak spot. Just like..."

He hit a button on the control panel. Outside, a panel on the blimp opened up, revealing a missile launcher that was visible from the window. Danny brought up an image of the Dark Aeon onscreen, locking onto its heart as a target, and fired.

The missile launched on command, following an erratic, wobbly course before reaching its target and striking true. Danny grinned as they exploded on impact. Man, that was cool!

If there's one thing Danny's parents did well, it was weapons.

Danny grinned, turning to face his two co-pilots. "How are you guys holding up? Any questions?"

Edited at 2012-06-18 10:16 pm (UTC)

"So we're just hitting that spot on the Aeon until it stops moving? I can do that!" And she could only do that because the device had a targeting system that even their dad could use without missing, but she wasn't going to admit that. Instead she took control of one of the lasers and fired at the heart.

Ioann throws Darkfire, in balls and bolts and blasts, shedding sparks about himself. Rage and anger blister of his skin to transmute into fire. Fear and sorrow, guilt and shame, loneliness and homesickness.... the boy takes everything he hates and turns it into flame. As if he could burn away his imperfections if he just burned enough.

And he throws it all at the Dark Aeon, the focus of his attention, the victim of his own self-hate. All of Ioann's attention is locked onto the aeon above, blind to anything else, lost in his own pain and holding to sanity only by affirming the validity of this target.

If he must kill, then let him kill this. Or kill himself trying.

All Jake knew at this point was that the Aeon was bad news and needed to be taken down. He hadn't been affected by it, but he'd seen too many people crying and dying.

Fireball after fireball shot from his mouth towards the being above them. He and everyone else were fighting for the very land they stood on.

He hoped it'd be enough.

*sneaks in late, yay for odd IC timing.*

Jendayi strode through the Northern Gate, a scowl set deep on her usually sweet face. She was tired. Tired of being afraid. Tired of being weak. Tired of losing those she loved. Tired of being used by some stupid city!

She’d felt it. Even in Kalliste she felt that frightening tightness squeeze around her. She’d been sure that he bones would snap, but they didn’t. It was pressure, she was able to realize later, but not pain. And then the ripping sensation. She felt like she’d just been pulled away, yanked from whatever dark force had puppeted her body around the City of Glass.

Well she was done with it. Now she stood in the North, glaring up at the dark city above. The stench of rot was gone, a single word hung in the air by an arrow, literally pointing out a target for her. Well, she could shoot. Drift had taught her. But she had something much better than a gun now, something she had much more control over.


With a shout that was full of all her rage, heartache, grief, and fear, she unleashed her abilities to a level she would never have imagined. A tight funnel of wind snaked around her before shooting for the pulsing heart of the dark city. She could see others headed there, and made sure, made sure her wind did not come near enough to affect them. Like a spear being shot from a gun the air slams at the Dark Aeon’s heart.

She wasn’t done. Again, and again, and again. Determined, she throws all she has into every attack. She’ll help take down that city, or she’ll go down trying.

Retaliation - Round One (1/2)

Nautilus had cheated. The darker Aeon had been so delighted, watching the fools waste their efforts on the simple-minded creatures it had created, waste their energy trying to dissolve the physical tentacles it had dispatched to spear the city. It had all been so futile, and the Aeon relished every moment.

But it had not expected the city to intervene as it had. Oh a strike, it understood, certainly. It had meant to eat Nautilus, after all, once it had finished tearing apart the molecules of reality that held all these worthless whelps together. Even with their powers and potential maximized, they still didn't have the knowledge or experience to use those powers effectively. They perished and idled, wasted time mourning and uttering dull speeches of encouragement and love.

Stupid, stupid beings.

Now, however, the Heart of the Dark Aeon was exposed. It was not pleased. They did not need to be reminded of an Aeon's true vulnerability, and it had so been looking forward to creating another hideous monster for people to fling themselves at while it picked apart their sanity and physical make-up at its leisure.

It braced itself for destruction.

But the destruction did not come. Oh certainly the volley of attacks were nasty and mortal creatures, anyway. But the Aeon was akin to a god. What pitiful efforts they spewed! Did they truly believe that using conventional weapons and fashioning the elements would hurt something like it? Pfah. Then let them. It would have time to toy with them further, it seemed. And if they learned how to properly combat the Aeon, it would surely be too late.

The dispute between the Deva and the murdered woman's Ashura was ignored. Hekket could handle himself, and the Aeon was still petulant over the arrow and word he'd made once Nautilus had fired its will upon the dark city. He would receive no aid until he apologized.

The Aeon's attention was initially drawn to the flying pirate ship and its motley crew. The fleas that swarmed its decks were fresh-faced and inexperienced, the Aeon thought, regarding the bubble shield with scorn. So they wished for battle. So be it. The Aeon began to twist the energy that made up the shield, blackening it, and sealing away visibility so that nothing could be seen. The last of their attacks were able to make it through...and to its shock, one of them actually caused a throb of real pain. Someone had wanted the Aeon to hurt. The massive blob of knotted wires and slime pulsed in irritation. Unacceptable. It could not let on that one of the attacks had actually been successful, so it had to distract the entirety of the crew to ensure that did not happen again. Once the bubble around the ship had blackened, it dispatched a horde of nightmarish creatures onto the deck, things with too many legs and ichor dribbling from too many teeth as they rushed about to attack anything that moved.

Retaliation - Round One (2/2)

Not everyone had pursued the Aeon directly, it saw, as more attacks issued from the surface of Nautilus. Hmph. How irritating. Having no further need of the creatures it had spawned to turn the fools against one another, each one of the spawned abominations began to quiver and shriek, before bursting moistly into a splatter of black slime. From these puddles, a noxious gas began to rise, a gas that would poison the brain and make it misbehave. Any reaction was possible -- hallucinations, despair, inebriation, lust -- let them be distracted dealing with that little slice of chaos, while it continued to murder their companions one by one.

And what was this? A squadron of winged ones, breathing fire and vomiting missiles. Entertaining, but foolish. Perhaps it would give them something better to focus upon. From the veined crust of the nightmare city, a pustule began to swell rapidly, ballooning to the size of a large house before it finally burst in a gout of thick yellow liquid and a slimy embryo. The thing twitched, strings of birth slime clinging and stretching as it rolled to its feet and stretched sticky wings of veinous membrane. Were a dragon ever to be half-dissolved in toxic waste, perhaps it might look something like the creation the Aeon had just concocted. With a rasping hiss, it launched itself at Rex's squadron, just as several more just like it burst from their gooey cocoons to attack those who hovered around the aeon.

And for those bold enough to risk landing on the hellish landscape of the city itself...well, it would deal with such idiocy later, should it occur.

There was one particular creature that it did not care for. A lone man in the streets below, praying. Those prayers were strengthened with willpower, however, and if left unchecked it could prove to sustain those who fought. That man would not be attacked with horrid visions or nightmare manifestations. He would simply cease to be. It was upon William Jesse Grant first, then, that the dark city began to focus on Unmaking, wishing for the process to be as slow and painful as possible.

(OOC: I *think* that covers everything, but if not, PM leekspin or AIM me at RainaMoonsinger.)

On The Pirate Ship - Round 2! 1/2

After launching the first spiked ball, Sanji drew in a breath and gathered himself again. Not enough. Not good enough. He could see attack after attack being launched at it. Were they hurting it? Were they having any effect at all?

He growled lowly to himself, thinking on how he could enhance his attacks... hurt the Aeon even more. Giant, spiked steel balls were good. He was so angry, he felt like his blood was burning. Burning... yes. Burning was good. Burning would HURT. He remembered that idiot Pearl, back on the Baratie... the flames that enveloped his weapons. If fire could surround pearl, they could surround steel, right?

He narrowed his eyes, forming another steel ball, this time willing it to be covered in flames. Red-hot... scalding. He could land a kick on that, still. A cook couldn't be afraid of fire. He'd deal with any pain later. Right now, this Aeon had to go DOWN. It had caused enough pain. Enough deaths.

Sanji launched himself upwards to kick the projectile towards the Aeon again, ignoring any faint stings of fire licking at him. "Fucking DIE already, you shitty Aeon! Balle Flambé!"

Sanji landed back on deck, flames licking at the edges of his pants. It didn't seem to hurt him that much, but he quickly Bended it away. He tensed in preparation to Bend up another sphere, when the Aeon made its attack. He frowned as the bubble surrounding them went dark, which changed to a look of shock, and horror, as they were suddenly invaded by what looked like to him as a swarm of mutated spiders.

"GAAAAH! Holy shit what the fuck are these things?!" Black oozing slugs he could deal with, but not spiders. He struggled to fight off the panic he felt growing inside him, and started wildly attacking the creepy, crawly things... shuddering and twitching as he drew close.

Damn it... he HATED spiders! Why did it have to be spiders...?

Updates from the Fenton Blimp!

"What the heck--?!"

Danny grit his teeth at the appearance of the decaying... dragon-like thing, but it's not like he hasn't hurt things like that before.

"Man, gross." he muttered out loud. "So which one do we hit? The Big Ugly or Mama Ugly?"

He paused, staring at the myriad of buttons at his fingertips... then slapped himself in the forehead. "Wait, duh! We've got an arsenal! Hit 'em both!" He turned to grin at his partners. "Pete, you've got that ropey-swingey thing going on with your powers, so you're used to moving targets, right? Think you could focus on our new friend while Jazz keeps firing at the Aeon's--"

Danny was interrupted when the ship's communications were suddenly opened. Caesar's face appeared onscreen.

"Danny," Caesar said, "the bomb's ready."

Danny's expression sobered. "I'll be right there."

"Good. I'm inside the building. The spot where we discussed."

"I'm on my way." Danny cut the feed then. His hand lingered on the button as he paused to steel himself and sort out his thoughts. He really had no idea if this was going to work or not. So...

He smiled again, turning to face his companions once more. "You guys are gonna have to keep going without me," he said cheerfully. "I've got a special package for the Aeon that I've gotta deliver."

Danny you are terrible and this plan is terrible and we're all going to DIE :(

"Two things dude. First, you and I need to have a serious talk about what my powers actually do once this is all over. Assuming we aren't all lunch for the Calamari Special From The Black Lagoon, anyway."

Optimism! But hey, so long as Spidey kept his sense of humor, it was a good sign that everyone wasn't horribly doomed. Or that they were, considering it was his way of coping with fear, but it was probably for the best if he didn't tell anyone about that little detail.

"And second, you've got it backward. I'm used to hitting targets while moving, not shooting at airborne targets from a stationary one."

Because Danny, it's a blimp. It's not good for much other than boring people to death in low-speed chases, and circling stadiums. And from the look of things, Nautilus was all out of stadiums. Which meant they were on to the 'sitting duck' stage of the plan, as far as Pete could tell. The odds of anyone managing to outmaneuver an angry dragon in a blimp were slim enough without introducing the fact they were on auto-pilot into the mix...

William Jesse pours out words, switching freely between speaking and singing, summoning up from his core like any trained singer. He doesn’t know if he’s making a difference; if what he is doing is even helping. And the preacher man accepted before he started that not knowing isn’t going to stop him. He is acting on faith, trust in things unseen, felt, known. He’s had years to learn his hymnal by heart in this place, to learn every psalm and lament.

Not by rote, no, because that is base memorization and remembering of words and notes. By heart is a different kind of knowledge, where the words flow forth because the heart yearns to sing them, and that singing is more important than making the exact note or word. Instead of focusing on the words, William Jesse lets his mind to travel through the memories and emotions that the words evoke, setting his soul towards all that is good and life-affirming and loving in this place. That little bit of good that he believes exists in every single living being in this place, human or otherwise. Goodness that is worthy of love, nurturing, protection; Goodness he will never forsake.

But at the Dark Aeon’s attention, William Jesse crumbles to the ground, his breath of song turning involuntarily into a high scream of pain as the glow around him falters.

Merciful God in Heaven, has he ever felt such hurt? The preacher boy clutches his arms about himself, as if by applying pressure he could remove the terrible, terrible feeling like he’s being slowly unraveled. Unmaking. O God… is he being unmade? Is this--- is this what they did to Isis? No one--- nothing—should ever deserve to feel this.

That thought pulls him back into himself a bit, the call to justice and mercy a rallying point for his theology. William Jesse knows he needs to focus, to will, not just for himself, but for everyone else that might fall today as well. For what ever small good he can do, he must do.

If--- if he could just sing

Digging inside for strength of purpose, William Jesse takes a deep breath, forcing it out, first as a whisper of a note, then something stronger. “ Oh…. O’ for.. for a thousand t-tongues to sing” The first song he ever learned. The first song in every Methodist hymnal. Praise for the eternal God that never forsakes, “ M-my great… Redeemer’s praise: the—the g-glories of my God and King… the triumphs of his g-grace!”

“ My gracious M-master and my God, assist me to pro—proclaim, to spread through all the earth abroad the… the honors of they name…”
It’s a prayer; that’s what these songs have always been. What they should always be. The preacher’s voice strengthens again, despite his pain, “Jesus! The name that charms our fears, that bids our sorrows cease. Tis music in the sinner’s ears, tis life and health and peace…”

He sings all six verses, kneeling on the ground, choosing to throw his strength towards this rather than standing; eyes closed but leaking tears, arms dropped to his side, hands open, palms turned out. And then he keeps singing; His heart hammers a true prayer. Please, please, please. Save us.

Save in every way that Your mighty love knows how. Do not forsake us, do not let us forsake ourselves. In you, O God, all things are possible. We are not Alone. We live in Your world, who has created and is creating, who lives in us and others by the Spirit. You who so loved the world that You came is Jesus Christ, and so loved life that You defied death, so that we might now Your love triumphs over force and evil. Be with us Now, O Beloved and Gracous God, and give us Life. Give us hope when hope is failing. Strength in Tribulation. Faith, Love, Mercy, Justice, Grace…

Edited at 2012-06-20 05:18 pm (UTC)

I hope you don't mind a little help

((ooc: If I'm interfering, let me know and I'll delete this.))

There's a lot to see, from the eyes of a bird. Too much to keep track of, really, so Israfel simply lets her attention be drawn wherever it will. There are dragons in the air, and that is tempting. The dragon was the one shape she'd always striven for, and never mastered. Not outside of dreams. Maybe here, where the world was so much like a dream, it would come to her.

But her attention was drawn elsewhere, and she followed it.

Israfel was an isolated woman by nature. Never had she found it easy to bond with others, even before her accidental immortality made any friendship inevitably heartbreaking. As such, her interest in others was a cold one, but it was interest nonetheless. She did not make friends, but she chose individuals to observe and pick apart, and she did become attached to them, more or less. She'd spotted a few of these in the battle so far - Sanji, Dana, Hekket, and William Jesse. Ah, now he was her favorite, if only because she disagreed with his stolid faith.

Israfel Oleski loved those who believed strongly in something she did not. They were a challenge.

He wasn't doing much for the cause, or it seemed that way, so it was rather odd when he screamed suddenly and collapsed. The enemy's other attacks were obvious. Monsters. Nothing surprising, given the Dark Aeon's penchant for nightmarish weapons.

So why, then, had it not just summoned another freakish beast to deal with the little preacher?

She wondered if perhaps someone else was responsible for the attack. That could only be bad news, but she had no evidence besides the incongruity. The mystery of it troubled her, and the best way to solve that mystery was to interfere.

As she alighted on William Jesse's shoulder, she once again wished fervently that she'd practiced a broader range of Bending. What did she know of protecting anyone with it?
There was nothing for it but to try, though.
Not bothering to relinquish the form of a lark, she nestled tightly to him and strained her imagination to picture something between a shield and a field of energy, willing it to dome over the two of them and push any other's touch out and away. She wished to isolate them, or if not that, then to create a buffer. If she couldn't protect him entirely, perhaps she could slow this down or lessen it. Anything, so long as she was of some small use.

For Israfel was cold and aloof, but she was also dedicated. Three hundred years she'd dedicated to a single cause, and this was no different. Israfel did not always succeed in her goals, but she never gave them up.

(Deleted comment)
Axel hadn't seen Lelouch's post. He hadn't seen much of anything on the network in ... he wasn't sure how long. The days and nights had blurred together into one continuous fight. It was mindless. Endless. It didn't require thought, or feeling, or motive. Just instinct. It was just survival.

For the Nobody, whose mind had been clawing itself apart as they descended towards Chaos (seeing the Halls again, always the Halls), it was the best therapy he could've asked for.

So he didn't check the network. He fought, because he had to. He fought, and he enjoyed it. It was that simple.

When he did find himself in the Northern Plaza, it wasn't because of any call. He was simply teleporting to another district, to see if the noxious fumes rising from the Dark Aeon's dead spawn were encompassing the entire city. Not that he thought he'd be affected by the gas. Somewhere along the line, when he'd been battling the endless stream of creatures, he'd Bended away his need to breathe.

Anywhere else, he might've looked a little odd. He was certainly covered in enough filth and grime to indicate that he hadn't avoided the ruined Southern District. His coat had been slashed and torn somewhere along the line; his face had been splattered with blood, darkening odd patches of his bright red hair; his pupils were slits and his eyes over-bright – a tell-tale sign that he'd once again Bended them to constantly use the Sight. But, in the midst of the battlefield, he looked right at home.

And when he looked at Lelouch, it was with a shit-eating smirk.

"Waiting for something?" he asked his Ashura. "Or just decided to kick back and enjoy the show?"

Not that he thought Lelouch would ever actually kick back in the middle of something like this. But hey, the man was just standing there.

(Deleted comment)

[The Massive][Continuation] Tak's first bending-fueled attack

So far, the Massive's onslaught had produced no visible results. Which was, to put it lightly, slightly infuriating beyond all measure for the Irken soldier at the helm. And now the wretched thing had spawned reinforcements. Unacceptable!

"All defensive batteries, fire on those creatures! I want them out of my airspace, NOW!" She wasn't quite sure what they were, the concept of 'dragons' not being something that came up during her brief stay on Earth, but as far as she was concerned they were still quite kill-able. If it could move, it could be killed. All, it seemed, except for this annoying Aeon creature, which had so far managed to shrug off several attacks--even one of which could have obliterated entire warships!

"As for that festering, disgusting pile of filth, KEEP FIRING! There has to be some way to penetrate it's miserable--"

...wait. Wait just one moment. If she could create an entire capital ship with a thought at this point, surely she could do other things. Perhaps even more indirect methods. Suddenly she was sprinting across the room to forcefully knock the Dib-human clear out of his chair so she could have access to the main battery's controls. "OUT OF MY WAY! This has to work!" Not that she was going to give him an explanation of what 'this' was, but he might be able to figure it out on his own soon enough. On the panel in front of her, she had both signal to fire again and a confirmation of a target lock on the Aeon's heart. Which meant in a few seconds, she'd know if this plan worked or not. "DIB! Warn the others we're about to fire again, and take the helm!" Not that there was a physical means for him to control the ship, but she assumed he could wrap his mind around giving orders to the SIR units controlling the ship. Hopefully. Otherwise they'd probably just start crashing into things.

"As for you, I want this to hurt, like nothing your miserable existence has never experienced before. In the name of the almighty Irken Empire, you will know PAIN!" Her efforts produced visible results almost immediately. While the damage it might do to the Aeon remained to be seen, it was clear something about the blast was different. It shone with a bright blue energy, different than the pink coloration of the previous blasts, and was practically crackling with excess energy as it streaked toward its target...

R[The Massive][Continuation]

It wasn't working. Nothing was working, and it was here that Dib felt the first real stabs of honest panic threatening to take hold. He stared out the windshield in disbelief at the monstrous dark entity before them, and at the missiles and lasers that didn't even seem to touch it! But what to do next? He wracked his brains for ideas. Maybe...maybe if he had Bending...

But that thought was put on hold as Tak suddenly shoved him completely off his chair and onto the floor, where he landed on his stomach with a surprised little shriek, rolling to a stop underneath a control panel. S


Scrambling out from underneath, dusty and with a few wires stuck in his hair, Dib climbed back up to his feet, hugging the control shelf for support as the ship rocked.

"Wh-Take the helm?! You really want ME to...Right! Right, I'm taking the helm! I'm going!"

Stabilizing his footing, the paranormal investigator shot across the floor and leapt into Tak's abandoned chair, pulling up the radio frequency of Nautilus, and particularly targeting Danny, who he wasn't sure was still inside that thing.

"Danny! Danny, get out of there! We're going to fire on it, get out now! Come on!"

He seized hold of the controls, and brought the ship up as close as he dared for Tak to get her shot in.


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