Magical Malignancies (Celeste)

The darkness would give way to light in the aftermath of it all. A mistake that potentially cost her everything and all she knew, or rather what remained. Celeste was having a rough year, this much she concluded long before the night had waned, and dawn had cracked on a horizon far flung from where she now woke. Eyelids were heavy, head throbbed with a pounding agony, and she felt wet and weak where the pain continued to stab at her waking thoughts.

The blond struggled to raise her head, wincing as she looked about the ruined contents of a warehouse of some variety. Rolling onto her side, the realization that she laid battered over bloodied woodchips and dust swept over. Clouds of statically charged mist lingered over concrete and makeshift kindling that was soaked in either water from the sprinklers, or what had escaped the lacerations across her arms and legs. A prominent crackle continued to fill the air from what plasma remained charged in the vicinity, possibly the only thing filling her ears other than the continued rhythm of her pulse. Or was that a migraine? Celeste tried to shake whatever it was off, the concern with it.

”Nice landing Celeste,” she muttered wryly to herself, taking a moment to wipe off the dust and debris as she sat upright. A prolonged sigh as she regarded her surroundings once more – the product in destroyed crates nowhere to be found. A perk of the brow in a weak rise to stand. Odd... Were these things empty to begin with? The blond looked around some more, confusion plain upon her face as the faded paint on the walls in this facility. Well, now she didn’t feel so bad about crushing valuables, or whatever it might have been.

A shrug and she began a lazed saunter through the expanse of the storage, careful steps and mindfulness apparent when navigating the various hazards. The longer she surveyed and moved about in this dimly lit deathtrap, the more she came to find it akin to the fallout of a bomb attack. Ruined vehicles and furniture lay strewn throughout the vicinity of the moderate crater. Was this the result of the teleportation spell? Celeste paused, a thumb to her lips in consideration at the notion. She never recalled this level of destruction before, even after a potential mishap of the power. Another hiccup? She grimaced at the idea of their return – the stress of control slipping through her fingers again like a shade.

The hell was this place? She needed to get out of here. The witch surveyed the source of light, finding many weathered lamps and windows shuttered and boarded tight. She ran a finger along a nearby tarp over a stored vehicle, the excess thick as she waved it away in disgust. ”Abandoned?” It was possible, in which case there wouldn’t be anyone around to care should she show herself the way out. Somewhere out in the dark there ought to be a door to this warehouse. Another wary trek through thick clouds and mindful steps. A glance to the right, then there it was. Something in the mist, a beam across a threshold! The blond hurried forward, struggling to move it before a sound caught her ear. She knew it well, it brought back memories. Eyes went wide at its familiarness. Ignition. The charge in the room had found oil somehow. Were some of the vehicles improperly stored? Leaking even? She put her back into the heave, a grunt before the beam would eventually budge from its long, undisturbed slumber.

The witch hurried forward into what she ascertained as a street, barely a glimpse yet it wasn’t too crowded. Smoke billowed out of the warehouse doors in her wake, Celeste leaning forward, hands on knees as she tried to catch her breath. A scream caught her attention not far down the street, her gaze turned in time to catch the blitz upon the innocent youngster. ”E-Eh!?” she blurted out in shock and confusion, barely able to contain the reaction w her fatigue. It was then that it occurred to Celeste, that she wasn’t exactly in the city that she thought she woke up in after all. The attacker was much faster than their prey, who didn’t stand a chance against the technique. Celeste could only watch in her weariness as the young scholar fell, books tumbling from the bag into the mud.

PL: 37,000|Antisense: OFF
TWC: 741

The thought that the victim may have possibly deserved their fate almost crossed the witch’s consideration. That was until the remains of that life were so apathetically cast aside, like trash, to the dirtied gutter. The blond watched it roll to a stop, something failing to churn inside at the sight of the poor student’s future. A regrettable fate, it was true. She didn’t know this soul though, and so found it easier to move from the shock of the moment, into contempt for the would-be hunter that now found her in his sights. Resolve hardened to equate the stare that bore down into the potential threat.

The steps barely held sound as he approached, far too calculated and soft even for whatever this predator pretended to be. She listened closely to what was offered in contrived pleasantries. Potential possession case, far exceeding the average strength of the local populace. A citizenry of where exactly? The question ate at the back of her mind, much like the other little thoughts that sought to induce fear into her system. A slow breath through the nose to find them stifled. Celeste kept her cool, let the thing run through its paces while she silently deliberated strategy. She considered the demonstration of strength and speed, before gauging it to other known threats both past and present.

Which rank did this one fall under? What threat level would the old sect classify this one?

The witch would lean back an inch when it came to close for comfort, a ghost of disgust written over her face before her composure would return. It stalked her like some big cat out at twilight in hunt for its evening meal. It was a feeling she was all too comfortable to be in, namely for the familiarity which came with it. Celeste waited while those eyes drank her in, had their fill, then moved in to become level with her own. The hunter opened his mouth to speak. The witch was overjoyed! Finally, someone with the sense to speak gibberish.

”The maid,” offered Celeste bluntly when he had finished. A glance offered to the smoking warehouse with a shrug. ”Spring cleaning. Thought we might air the place out a bit.” The place was then racked with an explosion; a fireball spat out the threshold their direction out into the street. Rather than stay to continue being ogled by the local underworld, the witch would turn heel and begin to bolt on foot down the street, into the thickening crowds running toward the commotion.

TWC: 1,166

It was barely a minute into her escape that a figure did appear above the others ahead, one bearing inhuman features all too familiar to a select few whom she had the displeasure of meeting. A raised palm, gathered energy, then fiery plumes of indigo and violet in the detonation. Screams of pain and agony abound and plenty. The witch felt her boots protest against the cobblestone of the walk as they skidded to a halt. A glimpse around her, only to bear witness the fall of those condemned. The heat a rather intense change to the already dry, arid climate. Celeste watched on as the street became a bridge over an awe-inspiring chasm; the buildings on either side beginning to crack at the foundations, before starting to give way to a fall. Teeth would grit behind a stony mask of composure, before scarlet eyes trained on the figure that now barred her path; a glance shot to her periphery when his accomplice moved to hold place at the opposite of the makeshift bridge.

The witch perked up her ears when the green one made to speak, his words dripped with an arrogance which might rival that of Kowlin. An inkling inside her had wished to believe observers from Otherworld were not all like this, that perhaps those she had the unfortunate luck of crossing paths with had been an odd case or two. The Kai-in-training, Inyo, had given her plenty to consider in light of this notion. Though the being before her now had done enough to quell such second guessing about these would-be gods. Celeste felt her eyes narrow at the terrorist’s use of the word ‘mortal’ - the very tone about it suggesting it something derogatory in their eyes, an insult with no greater low.

Celeste barely found her voice before the other spoke up again, to find more of that same drivel spew forth. The way either spoke suggested the impression they believed her cornered, musing on common ground regarding their purpose in this city. Celeste frowned at the idea. She wasn’t here for any particular reason other than pure chance. At this point she had chalked the teleportation up to a hiccup, given none of her surroundings or the very people struck any sense of semblance to her heart.

The crazed one sought to appeal to her magical nature, going so far to presume she was here on some sort of pilgrimage. How did he even know about her talent? Were they perhaps sensitive to mana? More contrived flattery. She was growing uncomfortable by the minute with these two, though she’d try her best not to show it. Celeste decided to play along, then maybe she would discover what this infatuation they held was really about. There was mention about some key, barring the path to unfathomable power. Well, that was certainly intriguing if she were to be honest. It was clear this pair was devoid of logic and sanity.

Why else would they approach her with something so ludicrous?

To put the use of some myth in the hands of another shinjin as equally callous as Kowlin, it was a rather unthinkable venture if ever could she think of one. Whatever they were after was better left undisturbed, buried in the annals of time to be forgotten. Though with as many lives already lost to the hands of these psychopaths, the witch was pressed for a choice in her present condition. Normal circumstances permitting, she was certain to put both of these cowards in the dirt. With drained reserves in thanks to her Dark Departure from Earth, the witch would be hard pressed to give her all without potential long-term harm to her body. Some of her spells were taxing enough as it was, better not to risk it unless it was proven necessary.

A click of the tongue, and cock of the head. ”Well, I never was much of a gambler,” she fibbed with an airy tone. The witch would tilt her head skyward, musing consideration before flashing the green one a momentary smirk. ”In the end, I suppose that answer depends on one's definition of a god.” Her eyes glinted with something between amusement and exasperation. ”The immaculate perfection that is the divine as some would, see? Or those who are simply powerful? If you have the arrogance of a god, and the power to back it up, who's to say you are not divine?” The witch would bring a hand to her chin, then eye Darastras up and down, a fleeting light of malice twinkling through scarlet.

TWC: 1,932

The reaction spurred on by a simple thought-provoking question was rather amusing, so much Celeste regretted the absent snacks or notepad to enjoy this little spectacle of a sermon. Were all shinjin this egotistical? It was little wonder the rumor went they all fell from the same tree, perhaps this was finally putting that theory to proof. The blond did everything in her feasible ability not to tune out the droll droning about an ability to speak, given she had heard so much of a similar tune out of the last self-proclaimed god she had the displeasure to know. Fanaticism, zealotry and delusions of grandeur. How charming.

Though there were some interesting notes among this familiar chorus of superiority and righteousness. He wasn’t as beguiling as the other clown, in fact rather than attempt to coax assistance out of the witch, this one was more than adamant she was going to help simply because he wished it so. Malignant ki would force the fatigued witch to her knees, forcing her to bow before another pretender easily done away with. Those eyes would meet the wild greens of this self-proclaimed adjudicator, narrowing with contempt for the position she was made to be placed in. Never before had Celeste wished for her blood to quicken, for the change to overtake her when she needed it most. As with anything in this unfortunate year, it just wasn’t in the witch’s cards.

It didn’t go without saying, the more this violent comedy act droned on about that blasted key, the more her curiosity about the power it sealed away began to eat away at Celeste. Those blasted faux gods were very crazed, and power hungry, all too eager to enforce their warped paradigm upon a realm not their own. They’d use whatever means necessary found here in the mortal realm in order to accomplish it. Deigned to observe from the powers on high, yet never satisfied to simply look on while the mortals had all the fun. This one just couldn’t wait to get his hands dirty, but according to his equally long winded co-conspirator, it was far beneath him when piteous mortals could run these errands for him.

Eventually the oppressive force from the shinjin’s ki was countered enough to warrant an ability to stand once more. Celeste desired her mana then and there, however her reserves still refused to react to her calling as they were known to. The very act would amount to nothing more than a tingling of the skin and strain of the muscles, as though she were flexing in front of a mirror for self-worth. The detest she held for this pretender and those like him knew no bounds, though she kept her head bowed to hide any signs of contempt so easily read on her face. There was a desire underneath that malcontent which warranted some insight to this unfathomable power they so greedily sought.

The ultimatum had been made very clear, that they were not a pair to be trifled with, however delusional they might have been about their authority. Celeste would swallow her pride for the sake of rooting out whatever evil was at work here. After all, a demon was helping someone like Kowlin hunt down a potentially dangerous threat. What would Lia say of her now, were Celeste to turn her back on this? Her eyes closed softly, thought momentarily of those still back home who could be affected by these individuals and their nefarious plan. The witch would open them once more, and stand in affirmed silence that threatened to bore through Darastras’ very soul.

”Speak plainly. What would you ask of me?”

TWC: 2,543

The witch remained on edge even after the apparent leader made their leave to the shadows, her sights remaining trained where he vanished, even moments after Viru would begin addressing her again. This entire situation put her off the idea of wanting to know more about this city, in fact she was already thinking on ways to get off of this rock, and away from these psychopaths. Though Celeste was more than certain a spell of that magnitude would require time again to use, if anything her reserves couldn’t handle another taxation that great so soon. The apology went unanswered, the blond deciding instead to train her eye of contempt on the hybrid to further study her foe, whilst they continued to plead a desire for an alliance.

These two really wanted that key.

Though it didn’t go without saying, they knew barely a thing about the witch to begin with. Celeste suspected all this praise shot her direction was simply due in part to the hiccup surrounding her power seal. Up to this point, it was quite possible these two were picking up on her strength without her awareness, and based their deductions off that alone. Well, it certainly isn’t the outfit she would muse during Viru’s next spiel, casting an eye down to her own garb. A downright mess, this was unacceptable. The witch gave an audible sigh over the sight, deciding it was but many chores she would have to commit herself to before the day was through.

There was something during all of that which pertained to educational institutes of some nature, which Celeste took as probably the first kind of place this guy wanted her to check out. A part of the witch hoped it was one of those fancy Earth-type museums with a food court, and some kind of observatory or an aquarium she could also look into while she was there. Already her mind had wandered to the types of fish they might possibly have on a world she had yet to explore. A hum of amusement offered at such a thrill it might be. The notion was positively fascinating!

Celeste’s focus returned when the possession case finally ceased his babble, casting him a glance in time to see him wrestling with some sort of internal rage. Or was that indigestion? She perked a brow in retort as he would reaffirm a promise to get Celeste a portion of the power they now hunted. The witch had to audibly scoff before looking him up and down, arms crossed and all. What good was a promise of a demon to those who hunted them? What amount of merit did Celeste weigh the words of souls she had been trained to never trust? The witch would narrow her gaze on the hybrid, finally deciding what to do him.

”I will look for your precious key – but make no promises, should I find it.”

TWC: 3,031

”Is that it?” she asked, perhaps a little louder than was necessary. Though when the underling had turned her back on the witch with little more than a warning, it would seem she wasn’t going to get much more out of him pertaining to the intricacies of those plans. She silently weighed consideration over whether or not to continue this potentially fruitless endeavor. The very notion of rooting out this pair’s plan all for the sake of the goodness in her heart was also quite nauseating. For what good would it do her to risk life and limb for a world not her own? It wasn’t as though these two actually meant as serious harm to this world as Kowlin did Earth, was it?

The witch shot the area a brief glimpse, to where the countless people had once been enjoying their mornings, simply trying to get to where they needed to be. There was an eerie silence in the air, broken in the distance by the growth of impending shouts. The blond stood rooted where she had been on the makeshift bridge, turning in time to witness the rather showy means of departure, of whom she could only guess to be the otherworldly duo. Celeste felt her gaze harden on the place the beam of light had originated, before drifting skyward as she thought about what to do.

Would she hunt this treasure, risk a repeat of history? Or would she steel herself in preparation to be hunted by another faux god?

It was only then that she bothered to notice the others. The konatsians. One was a delicate looking girl clutching a rather worn to time grimoire. The other looked like the angriest street urchin the witch had seen in some time. The man reeked of something with an oddly sour taste, and Celeste’s nose wrinkled in disgust with her approach. ”Neither of you seem like the type to find at the heart of the matter but then, I suppose that’s why I’m here…” Her eyes wandered over her shoulder to the sparkling, scalded earth. A click of readied weaponry as the blond would raise her hands in surrender.

”You must have so many questions...”

Exit Attempt
TWC: 3,397