Spa Day

It'd already been a long day. 

There'd been a disturbance in a small fishing village to the west of Hosenka. The report the guild received stated a dark mage had taken it over and was demanding tributes from the poor villagers under threat of having their home destroyed, so Sivvy had promptly set out to right the situation. The ship voyage to Cedar was as horrendous as always, making her sick and miserable until she could finally step food on dry, stable land. Dr. Raelin had been very displeased when he learned dragon slayer lacrimas bring on the obvious weakness of motion sickness, but he wasn't the one who had to experience it every time she had to travel. She recovered quickly, however, and continued on her solo mission by traveling through Cedar and Hosenka to aid the outlying village of Hookboot.

Reports of what was happening in Hookboot were far from accurate. When she arrived, she found a fishing village with absolutely no one fishing. Abandoned boats bobbed sadly off of dilapidated piers. Not a soul was in sight on the outskirts. Houses and meager businesses were empty, even though it was prime daylight. Further in she started to see citizens, though they ignored her in their frenzied running around. Bodies lay in small heaps here and there amongst the rubble. Buildings were being cannibalized for their stone. Sivvy's brows creased in confusion. Why were they tearing down their own home and carting the bricks off? She followed one cart to the small center square, where quite the sight revealed itself. The town was being dismantled by its own sobbing people to make room and gain supplies for a larger structure. Villagers composed of wizards and non-wizards alike were all concentrated at the center of town, frantically building as a group of rough-talking mages ordered them around and berated them. They were making sport of the suffering of simple fishmen, even going so far as to do unspeakable things to the friends and family of those below while they watched, going so far as to kill one for entertainment right before her eyes. The scene became clear. It was no longer just one dark mage bullying poor people for jewel. It was a fledgling dark guild making a new headquarters at the expense of hundreds of innocent victims, seeking power while tramping any poor soul that got in the way. Worthless scoundrels that would do anything to get off.

These newborn dark guild members weren't pushovers though. Sivvy rocketed herself with no amount of restraint right into the center of their guild-raising party, hitting hard and fast as usual. She was the extremely direct sort. Two fists with the force of oncoming trains hit without warning and snapped two of the members' necks, killing them instantly, but the remaining five would prove more difficult. Even though the union was new, they worked well together and didn't hesitate to use the townsfolk's safety against her when possible. Going at this many capable wizards alone was a struggle, draining her magical power quickly as she worked as efficiently as possible to minimize innocent loss of life. Their eventual downfall was honestly their willingness to sacrifice one another for a chance to either win or escape, but neither options were in their cards. Sivvy might just be one woman, but she was one extremely well-trained wizard with a tactical mind and zero qualms about striking the killing blow when opportunities arose. Their presumptions that all legal mages opted for non-lethal methods was a grave mistake to make. As their metal ridden bodies fell and took their last breaths, the rosy-haired clone could finally call this job done.

Draining of magical power was far from the only thing she suffered. By the end of it her white, black, and red uniform had been ripped to shreds and bloodied. 7 might have left it this way to conserve energy since she could barely stand, but she considered how alarming it might seem to the victims. Not only that but Dies Irae mages aimed to be the strongest in Earthland so evil would tremble in their mere shadows. No matter what, she had to seem like this had been no challenge. As an ambassador, she was a symbol and a shining example for all to see, after all. Slowly her metallic threads repaired the outfit and served as bandages as well, returning her to a more presentable state. Nothing could be done about the various gashes and bruises, but the exterior damage was nothing. One difficult mage, in particular, had some sort of peculiar draining magic that sapped pretty much everything she had and given it to her enemies. She was glad that one was dead. As she turned to check on the people, she was met with uproarious applause and a few men more than willing to take care of their oppressors' bodies. Normally she tried to also do that task, but it seemed beyond her abilities at the moment. Sivvy simply wanted to escape and rest.

"Thank you! How can we ever repay you?" a generic citizen asked the likewise generic post-saving question, to which the worn out Ambassador waved her hand. "Please, don't worry about it. This is just what members of Dies Irae do," she spoke, though perhaps her voice was even flatter than usual. She was simply so worn out that her normal stoicism was amplified despite her efforts to seem amicable and put the villagers at ease. "Just rest knowing they can't bother you anymore," sighed the woman, turning away from them all and forcing herself to rush out of town. The locals cocked a brow or two, but ultimately their lives were so improved, they wouldn't pay their escaping savior much mind. Not throwing a thank-you dinner for her would certainly help them feed themselves until they could get back on their feet.

After a brief rest in a quiet field of wheat outside the town, the dragon slayer finally felt well enough to head back home. It was a long walk back to Cedar, but that meant she might be able to stop off in Hosenka on the way to indulge in her post-job victory ritual. Food. There was a sushi place there where she'd met her mentor and fellow Ambassador Johann. Despite not being sentimental type, she couldn't deny that she'd love to go there again. Maybe she'd even get a to-go bag for him. He'd probably love that. If once she got there and ate she didn't feel much better, she'd just stay the night at one of the lovely inns and make the journey to Cedar and then home tomorrow.

As if this rough day hadn't been hard enough on her, once she neared the entrance to the tourist trap spa town, a stampede of toweled men and women in wet bathing suits came rushing at her. They were screaming in terror about a murderous wizard in their main spa, though the details were hazy. One thing was certain, the traumatized patrons were whipping the crowded streets into a panic. This wasn't good. 

Never one to shy away from her duty, no matter how tired she was, Sivvy didn't even hesitate a second to alter her course from the sushi restaurant toward the spa on the hill. "Please! Calm down. I'll take care of this. Don't panic!" she tried to caution the tourists and locals alike on her way, urging them to get indoors and close up shop, but not to fall into dangerous hysteria. There was only one of her and she couldn't assure the villagers' safety and neutralize the threat at the same time. Without being able to call for help in a quick fashion, this was the best she could do. One more dark mage wouldn't be such a challenge after the seven she'd just killed. Perhaps she was overestimating her abilities, but how could she call herself and Ambassador of the order keeping, evil exterminating, innocent protecting guild Dies Irae if she walked on past this threat because she was drained?


Sivvy managed to run up the hill with little issue, though her speed was greatly diminished. Even from several dozen meters away, her sensitive nose was picking up the thick scent of blood. She followed the smell inside and straight to the bloody jacuzzi. It was like a red fizzy drink with corpse ice cubes bobbing around. The only two among the living was a woman relaxing in the crimson waters with a drink, on the receiving end of a nearly catatonic employee giving a foot massage, waist deep in his former customers' blood. It was an odd sight to be sure, but there was no time to dwell on that. Without a second thought she lifted her arm and shot a spinning spike from her palm at the lounging woman while barking a "Get out of here now!" at the poor mentally scarred man. Other than him, the place was devoid of people she'd have to worry about in the ensuing fight.


[Post WC: 1515 || 7's WC: 1515 || Thread Total: 3118]

"Uhm.."

Sivvy seemed somewhat stumped by her intended foe's reaction. She'd wounded her and taken her hostage away from her, yet the woman seemed largely unbothered and continued to lounge in the crimson waters smelling of iron and death as if nothing had changed the natural state of the spa at all. This wasn't the expected behavior of a homicidal criminal, yet all the evidence was here to prove she was. Still inexcusable, but very perplexing.

Her enemy commented on her appearance. As much as she adored fashion when she was able, this was hardly the time. "I just came from saving a village nearby from some dark mages. My metal threads can always repair my clothes as long as I have magic power left," the young woman possibly over-explained, honest as ever. The clone always answered as truthfully as possible, for she never knew when the tiniest detail would make all the difference in the world. In the context of fighting evil solo, though, perhaps answering questions and making small talk wasn't the top priority. She was just so perplexed by the scene that she didn't think to brush off the comments.

"No, I would not like to join you," the ambassador responded politely, though the lowered tone cast a darkened intent on her words. Confusing or no, she would not let this woman go. No matter how tired she was or how battered, it was her job and her duty to take down people like this and protect the innocent. "You've done something very bad here...you do realize this, right?" Sivvy asked with lowered brows, voice stern but inquisitive. Maybe this woman was mentally ill and didn't know what she was doing? That fell in that confounding gray area that kept 7 up at night worrying. The things she was doing were still very bad, but if she couldn't help it or if she didn't know, did that still sign her death warrant or did she just need saving and some help like the average citizen? Honestly, her mind was too weary to logic it out beyond a certain point. The dragon slayer was just too beat. Most of her energy was used up and just that small preemptive attack made her arms feel a bit heavier. "Ma'am, you need to get out of the tub and come with me. You've murdered people here, you know that right? That's...not good. I need to take you in to face consequences," Sivvy informed her, remaining steadfast at the edge of the tub. Despite how tired she was, her hands were at the ready to either attack or defend, depending on the answer this strange woman gave her.


[Post WC: 445 || 7's WC: 1960 || Thread Total: 4007]

As sad as it was for someone of her caliber, Sivvy still had a rather glaring flaw; she was terribly gullible. Being somewhat unable to read people who were even remotely skilled in deception, the clone really thought this woman intended to come with her that easily. She even let out a small sigh of relief, as she was very tired and the thought of not having to fight after all was a weight off her shoulders. A hand slipped into her bag and rustled around for some handcuffs. In her line of work, cuffs weren't used too often, since unless otherwise instructed the dark mages were to die, not be captured. But this woman seemed somewhat repentant now, so perhaps she could be one of the rare ones to be rehabilitated. "Yes, if you come with me I'll take you back to headquarters and we can go from there," the ambassador stated, her brain mulling over what could be done. DI didn't have much in the ways of rehab, but maybe the Rune Knights did? They had a jail, maybe they had programs. She saw no harm in handing her over to Fiore's authorities.

Once she found the cuffs she glanced up to meet her potential prisoner's eyes, and that was it. The magic took hold immediately and she couldn't look away, even though every instinct in her told her to do so. Was she really so exhausted that she made the mistake of not sensing this woman using a spell? It seemed clear now, but it was too little too late. Her body was frozen there, clutching a pair of restraints that were never meant to be used. While alarming, Sivvy seemed unfazed at the start. A simple immobilization spell was annoying, but if she could muster enough magical power within herself for a burst, she could free herself. The rose-haired girl's supplies of magic were pretty spent, though, so it took longer than it should have, and before she could actually do it, the fear set in. Even though not a muscle in her body could move, the unmistakable shift in her pupil size was enough to make it clear she had fallen victim.

Gullibility was far from the clone's only flaw. It was merely the one that was displayed most often in the presence of others. Another more powerful flaw was one that normally only manifested at night when her body demanded sleep. Ever since she gained the first moments of consciousness upon being released from her incubation tube, fear plagued her world. The fear of everything being new and unfamiliar, being suddenly self-aware in a cold and confusing environment. Dr. Raelin robbed each clone of their infancy and childhood, stole away the years that taught a human how to deal with imagination and dreams and the nonsensical aspects of life. While she'd grown to banish most fears in her daily waking life, 7 could never justify the hallucinations during sleep. The images there turned what would be nice but odd dreams for the average person into abject nightmares. As a being raised on practicality, logic, and reasoning, made up images that defied all laws of nature were horrifying. They made her scream and quake when she was forced to sleep.

Perhaps she was even more susceptible to this magic now because of how tired she was from the mission directly prior to this. The woman had already been trying to prepare her mind for the nightmares awaiting her when she returned and inevitably fell into slumber. It was a powerful dread she knew she couldn't avoid forever. It was a necessary evil. Even taking this job was a risk, since she'd been up for three days straight already. But as intelligent as Sivvy was, she wasn't above making this mistake over and over again because it'd yet to truly have any negative repercussions. This time it would cost her. Time would only show her how dearly.

Demonic shadows loomed up around her, their threats unspoken but even more ominous for their silence. What were they really? Shadows weren't normally tangible without magic, but she knew these shadows were just as deadly as she was. It didn't make sense, but the clone just knew they wanted to crawl inside her and take everything from her. They were gonna torture her in an unrelenting cycle of pain and humiliation! They were gonna press their spiraling tendrils into her neck where laboratory tubes once were, but instead of chemicals and nutrients to keep her alive, they would pump their miasma into her arteries and slowly destroy her cells one by one. Another would suck her inside and she'd feel like she was falling for eternity, while another detached and reattached her limbs at random. They'd wring her out like a wet cloth and snip her into pieces for patches! These things were as certain as the icy chill of fright dripping down her spine and no matter how much reason she used, she couldn't tell herself any different. In light of all of this, Sivvy wanted to scream. She needed to. The pressure in her chest was painful and desperate as if the only way she'd survive it would be to shriek unendingly, but she couldn't. Just like all the nightmares, her voice was locked up inside her. Her body didn't work. Nothing functioned except her senses and breathing. Her mind couldn't handle the terror gripping her, only worsened by her new body prison. Nothing could be done to escape it. This enemy never had any intentions of giving up and going quietly. The failure to realize that coupled with the worst fear she'd ever felt was a level of trauma 7 had no precedent for. A lot of truly terrible things had happened to her in her short living years, but nothing brought this level of panic to her eyes. Before she knew it, her breaths were coming in quick and shallow gasps and she considered that one of the demonic shadows had replaced her human heart with one from a terrified rabbit. Would she die of fright like a rabbit, as well?

As her foe finally emerged the rest of the way from the mottled water, as nightmarish as the half-spider woman looked, it was a very small relief to see something in the real world that grounded her and even distracted her at a small level. 7 had the thought to not show weakness in the face of this threat. Perhaps with her body unresponsive, she appeared unbothered? A nice thought, but surely her gasps for air and her eyes of prey were unmaskable. It was a foolish thing to consider. The darkness looming at the corners of her eyes now weren't demons summoned to torment her forever, but rather her body's attempt to shut her down to preserve her. Even still, with much effort, she managed a glare at the predator before her, doing her best to communicate that she'd not go easy into whatever broken-toy fate she might have now.


[Post WC: 1177 || 7's WC: 3137|| Thread Total: 5742]

'Failed experiment' had her bracing herself for the backhand that normally accompanied it, though none came. Well, not then, anyway. Her eyes glanced at the tools he had set up, clear from any emotion, though her insides were twisting in fear. So this was it. He was finally following through on this threat to decommission her and apparently would use her body to repair more successful clones. She suddenly wanted to beg for her life. Her mind was confused, longing to go back to what seemed to be unreal now, or at least not to be plunged into the darkness of the unknown. There was no way to know what awaited her in death. The backhand came later when her eagerness to please overrode her ability to follow orders, so upon his final shut up and the strike of his hand, she did indeed fall silent like the obedient clone she was meant to be despite her terror.

Except the obedient silence was no longer for Dr. Raelin. When she pulled her eyes forward after reeling from the blow, she was back in the spa. Or was she back in the dream? Yeah, this felt like the dream, though her mind still tried to set the record straight. Had Dr. Raelin chosen not to keep her alive for the harvesting? Sivvy panted raggedly from her hanging spot, eyes tired. Her nightmare tormentor asked her a question she no longer knew the answer two. Was the reality of being decommissioned in the lab preferable to this or the other way around? She didn't know anymore. She didn't know anything anymore.

Numbing herself to the closeness and touches of her captor, the clone remained desolate and quiet in the tree, throat burning from all her screaming earlier. It barely registered on her face when Thana plucked up her iLac and started exploring it, though mentioning Artemis and Amalie did draw a sharp glance. The dichotomy between feeling that they were real but starting to believe they weren't was a painful jab in her chest, yet she couldn't help but feel protective of them even if they were phantoms. They were precious to her. She longed to dream of them again but didn't want this creature to have any access to them.

Thankfully the images on her phone provided a distraction from her friends but only brought complicated questions. Ethics was not her strong suit. Her mind worked too much with black and white. Frowning, Sivvy failed to be too ruffled by being called a hypocrite. "Yes, murder can be solved with murder," she answered simply, not a common line of thinking or admittance for a legal mage for sure. "Killing those who hurt and kill others for evil reasons permanently solves the problem. You're the problem, so there's no way I'd let you in," 7 explained sternly.

WC: 475 || Sivvy's WC: 5434 || Group WC: 10,395

As her captor morphed into a replica of the ambassador, at first, Sivvy only looked tired. If she'd expected a shock from such a thing, then Thana was unaware that she'd already encountered more than a few copies of herself, since she was a clone. There'd been a time when she thought only seven of them still lived, but she'd been proven wrong. Dr. Raelin had apparently not destroyed all of the failures and sold them for project funding when needed, so she had no idea how many identical copies of her were actually out running free. Point was, looking at a mirror image of herself was more common than it should be for anyone other than identical twins.

The dull look left her quickly, though. While it had been a some time since she'd thought about it, it did rustle up the incident with clone K. Kenrojima had been a disaster all around, where the island Dies Irae went to liberate from the clutches of a dark guild had been all but destroyed in the most heinous ways by the time they arrived, leaving them only the option of vengeance and absolute justice. If her attacker thought the black list pictures on her phone were a lot, would even someone like this balk at the sheer number of lives she took that day? Or would she be pleased? And what were the implications of either of the reactions? Either way, a clone of hers had been part of that dark guild, and the few survivors they'd found had been terrified of her due to her clone's doings. Even her friend Amalie had mistaken K for Sivvy and nearly lost her life over it. Stirring up that old guilt and fear of mistaken identity did flash hot like alcohol in a fired skillet. It was one thing to deal with it in small doses in random places, but to have another clone infiltrate her guild and hurt her friends was no small horror. It was even more terrifying to imagine this depraved woman doing it instead, the havoc she could bring to everything Sivvy held dear was staggeringly enormous. Yes, they would let in Thana if she looked like Sivvy. The ambassador didn't have to dignify it with a response. Knowing she was a liability to the whole guild was its own form of torment.

But wait, the guild wasn't real. Or was it? Sivvy was so confused. Should she take relief in the Solipsism overtaking her, or should she throw herself headlong into something she only desperately hoped was real?

Honestly, now it didn't matter. Since she'd made the clearly unwise decision to embrace humanity over her training and persue emotions and bonds, she'd now pay the price regardless of whether it was a dream or real. All that mattered was that it felt real and there was no way for her to turn that off, just like she had no way to stop the flood of emotions as a response. Once upon a time, the road Thana was taking Sivvy down wouldn't have bothered her. Sivvy had been through her share of unfortunate circumstances in this manner, but being able to detach and feel no worth in her body allowed for it to come and go without issue. Things had certainly changed since then. So much progress had been made in learning to accept herself and see the value her friends placed on her. The touches, the suggestion, her lips on Sivvy's flesh...it all made her skin crawl. Pure disgust and powerless fear swelled in her, bubbling out her throat in a feeble "D-Don't..."

Sivvy couldn't see this horrible woman or manifestation of her wounded psyche as anything but just that. No mental gymnastics could stamp down the bile trying to rise into her mouth. No matter what this vile creature said, this was not what she wanted. She didn't want this from anyone anymore, anyone other than one person, someone she sincerely clung to as a real, non-made-up man whom she cherished and mentally screamed for. He always said it was her choice. She didn't choose this! Surely she was not bringing this hell upon herself, but maybe she did deserve it as a punishment for failure. Failure is not an option. Even in the worst situations in the past, she'd known she could get out of it if she really wanted, even if it risked punishment. But this, this was different. She was helpless. She couldn't escape. This violence, this violation would be done to her and there was nothing she could do to stop it. If this was all in her decommissioned mind, then she was truly a cursed being and begged for the inky blackness of the voided nothing. "No!"

With tears squeezing from her eyes, she tried in vain to wrench her face and skin out of the tainted reach of the bad guy. "Please," the pinkette pleaded. "STOP!"

The panic grew until she found her screams again.


[wc: 835 || total wc: 11,832]