Ishgar Symposium (Group 1, Pergrande)

488

Felidae City

WC: 0656 | TWC: 0656

Michael Brooklyn Morgan "Red Alert"

Ishgard Symposium - Group 1 (Pergrande)

A new day greeted Michael and his siblings. Along with him came his trusted magic engineer, Giselle, who had come with him to witness the symposium held in Joya. He and his siblings had already met a few days prior to the day of the symposium and he was reluctant to share an apartment with them, while Giselle was excited to finally meet his siblings and get to know them better. Some days ago, he was hired and briefed of his guard duty for the Ishgar Symposium just yesterday, and Giselle made some adjustments to his armor to prevent them from being heavily damaged just like from his previous battle in the snowy border between Pergrande and Bellum.. And then, finally came the day of the symposium. His siblings were dismayed that they couldn’t attend the symposium together. Well, technically, they are. Just not together. Francois had the opportunity to attend due to his job as a Rune Knight, with Ozwald tagging along with him. “I wish we could’ve attended the symposium together.” The emerald eyed Ozwald said, “It’s been so long since we last hung out! Couldn’t you have sent your brother dearest an email before?”

“I’ll try.” The ruby eyed Michael replied halfheartedly, as if he remembered his twin brother’s email after losing his memory. “I’m quite busy with jobs, so I can’t guarantee I’ll send you a message soon.” The amethyst eyed Francois scoffs at his twin. “You couldn’t even make time to send us a letter? Even I, with my responsibilities to the Rune Knights, can make time for idle chatter with my kin.” “You’re literally a few walks away from home, Franz. Of course you have time to talk with everyone.” Ozwald retorted, then turning to face Michael, “Anyway, we’re only delaying your departure. I’m sure everyone would be pleased to see you on time.” “Right. Well, you have Giselle to join you for today, so if anything happens, she can just contact me.” He looked around and saw no sign of the woman. Perplexed, he asked, “Wait, where is she? No, don’t tell me. She’s sleeping all day, is she.”

His twin siblings nodded in unison, after which a loud snore could be heard from one of the rooms. “She does look overworked. Well, we’ll wait for her to wake up. The symposium will be held in a few hours anyway.” said the time wizard. “Okay, then I’m off. I’ll meet with you guys here after the symposium is over.” After that, Michael turned to the door and left for guard duty.


- ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ ❖ -

The raven haired esper was called days prior to the symposium and was hired as a bodyguard for a representative of the Ishgar Symposium. He was briefed of the event and was tasked to guard the Pergrandian representative, much to his surprise. His employers were aware of his involvement in the Border Clashes, during which he dismantled various Pergrandian forward bases with his psionic power. He believed that they wanted him to guard the Pergrandian representative because of the enormous psionic power he wielded that they could trust him to keep them and the other Pergrandians in check, though this was not disclosed and more on speculation on his part.

And now the day of the symposium is at hand. Michael was told to meet with the other bodyguards somewhere. It was time for him to get into his professional outfit. “Right. I better suit up.” He said as he donned his Hound Infantry armor, summoning his exosuit and connecting the armor pieces protruding from the red hexagons around him to it and making him look imposing. A high tech mask obscured his face, just as in the previous altercation he was involved in, to conceal his face.

He was met with a colorful cast of wizards from Fiore who were tasked with the same duty as his. To say that he is wary of them is an understatement. He at least does not trust one of them, even more so after the ‘guild master’ introduced themselves as a ‘villain’. He’s only heard of him once, so he can’t be sure how dangerous he really is. With the way he introduced himself, Michael couldn’t exactly take him seriously. It was time to introduce himself, he thought. Out of respect as a soldier, he stood up and gave the woman a salute. “The name’s Michael Brooklyn Morgan.” He said, after which he put his hands at rest. “I was a soldier for a military group until it was disbanded. Now I’m a free roaming mercenary taking dangerous jobs solo. As for what I can do, let’s just say I’m an esper of some sorts, similar to your Paladins. I’m not sure how my talent as an esper will avail you, but, well, I’m a proficient telekinetic and a professional sniper. I can hunt down targets from far away and I have the ability to project a live 3d feed of anything within a certain radius around me through my clairvoyant ability and pseudo-magics.”

So, this was it? The big event that these oh-so-smart politicians had thought up to secure their peace and prosperity or whatever it was?

Pathetic. Truly pathetic.

The city they had picked as the site for their senseless discussions, a stinking dump filled to the brim with shabby structures and run-down establishments, was swarming with vermin, weaklings who had come to see what they deemed the spectacle of the decade, no doubt. Disgusting.

Thus were the thoughts of Yurielle deFleur and her twin sister, Yuliana deFleur, when they had traversed the city of Felidae, the shining jewel of Joya located between the frigid mountain tops. If they did not have a purpose here, then setting alight this place and watching it go up in smoke might have been an acceptable piece of morning entertainment for the two girls, but what was perhaps a combination of luck and fate would spare Felidae, and indeed, Joya on this day. For today, and only today, there was a much, so so much more interesting prize out for collection:

The opportunity to plunge Bellum into a devastating conflict.

The thought alone filled Yuliana with barely contained excitement which, despite the circumstances the two dark mages found themselves in, found expression on her face in a gleeful grin, and while Yurielle maintained her stoic, mask-like facade of emotionlessness, she, too, had to admit that she was looking forward to the events that would unfold with an almost childlike anticipation.

It did not take long to find the small group gathered at the designated meeting place, one of the very few buildings that did not constitute a heap of trash serving as the assembly grounds for a peculiar crowd of mages. Indeed, mages in service of the Pergrandean Empire, or so it was said. A paradox in and of itself, but it seemed that even the largest nation in Earthland, normally holding an unshaken aversion to all things magical to a pathological degree, seemed to appreciate the value of arcane might at the negotiation table. A smart move, Yurielle pondered, Yuliana, in turn, hoping that, as a consequence of today's events, she would finally get to partake in a little bit of action. After all, this fact was what had gotten them hired as the Imperial Envoys' personal guard, allowing them to get within grasping distance of fulfilling the motive that had brought them here, to begin with.

Much to their dismay, however, it seemed that, in what was a stroke of ill-fortune or simply unfortunate coincidence, the particularly talkative little rat, which still insisted on being their leader despite the fact that he was leaps and bounds weaker than Yuliana's little finger, had also found its way here. Yuliana visibly grimaced when she spotted the self-proclaimed god, Yurielle not even sparing him a glance before wordlessly taking a position beside the other mages present, none of whom either of the twins recognized.

It did not take long, however, before the scene would change anew, the twins keeping to themselves until a woman, her appearance as brutish as her tone, entered the room. Her appearance was unremarkable at best, the three others she had in tow being barely worth the mention. Yuliana quietly scoffed under her breath.

Until the woman started speaking, that was.

The Flareblaze Witch's eyebrows inched closer together as they were furrowed in anger, an expression of fury overcoming the girl with the amber-hued oculi. Yuliana made motions to take a step forward, towards the woman that had provoked her with her unthinkable disrespect in the face of a god, but Yurielle stopped her twin sister with an elegant motion of her arm, the Icestorm Witch's piercing gaze of unblinking, cold eyes firmly affixed on the Warrior from Iceberg. "Now is not the time for that". The telepathic command was enough to make Yuliana stand down, the Flareblaze Witch taking a step back.

In her stead, Yurielle took a step forward, her eyes not moving away from the Icebergian woman, though her expression, unmoving, unchanging like that of a porcelain doll, did not shift a bit.

"My name is Yurielle deFleur-", she begun, pointing at her twin with an elegant motion of the hand, "-and this is my sister, Yuliana deFleur". She paused briefly, thinking about the best way to answer the second part of the woman's question, deciding that honestly would be the best course of action, her voice cold as ice when she spoke up anew, magical pressure of unrealistically tremendous proportions surrounding her briefly, her eyes, aglow with the light of sheer arcane might, seeming to stare right through the vermin that had so rudely addressed them before.

"As for our capabilities, and let me assure you that this is no mere boast, we could obliterate this city and everyone in it with a single glance. Is that a sufficient level of strength for your cause?"

---

Word Count: 815 / 4,000

1189/1677

Felidae City

The fact that the next person who introduced themselves, a woman, this time, would make clear that this meeting was attended not by one, but two Fiorean guild masters was something that made this gathering just that much more pathetic. Were all guild masters such unsightly weaklings these days? Was Fiore so soft that they would allow just anyone to become the leader of a guild? It was truly revolting, the deFleur twins both silently agreeing with each other on this point.

Who knew? Maybe it would be best to rid themselves, and by extension, Fiore of the babbling buffoon who called himself a god and take the spot for themselves? No, there would be no joy in that. Leading a bunch of scuttling and scurrying rats would be no mark of accomplishment, no achievement whatsoever. Yurielle was quite content with her current position as an observer, and with those thoughts, the woman's name had already slipped her mind, deemed as not even worth the space it would take up in the girl's memory, Yuliana, naturally, following her sister's lead.

The rude woman, who could undoubtedly pass as a man in any nation but Iceberg, seemed unimpressed, or rather, unmoved by the display of Yurielle's power, which was to be expected. Anyone impressed by what was merely the aura of a mage's true emotions was not even worth considering as anything that even approached powerful, which made all the more clear the level of strength these people dwelled on. The Icestorm Witch wouldn't demand an answer to her question. It didn't need one. She knew that her own and her sister's powers were an asset the group in allegiance to Pergrande could not pass on, and she would, with calculating frigidity, abuse that fact as much as possible, as much as she was sure the diplomats from Pergrande intended to make use of the mages who had volunteered to serve as their representation.

It seemed, though, that the combined introductions from the mages would elicit at least a reaction from the Iceberg warrior woman, who beckoned the mages to follow her. Finally, things would progress from the endlessly boring chit-chat to something truly worth the twins' time. The two wordlessly followed the woman into the other room, sparing their surroundings very little attention. The first half of Yurielle's plan, the one pulling the strings for Pergrande, would be right before them, after all. Yurielle's characteristically cold gaze would pierce the young man, boy, really, though he wasn't much younger than the twins going by appearance alone, ice-blue eyes, unblinking and unfeeling, seeming to stare right through the Pergrandian envoy. Yuliana, with an observant calm uncharacteristic for the Flareblaze Witch, would share the sentiment, her oculi, alight with the hues of burning flame, peering at Stefan Borisov from between slightly furrowed brows.

He was insufferable, that much was undeniable, but there was much information to be taken from his obnoxious and self-aggrandizing monologue, the boy being not much different to the talkative god of rats in that regard. The expression on his smug face gave Yuliana the impulse to wipe it away with her own fist, but she knew better than to follow that desire. Instead, she would shoot a glance to her sister as he talked and talked on, revealing that he, like one of the group's members, was an Esper, and while it was undoubtedly true that he did seem to enjoy the sound of his own voice, intelligence shone in his eyes and was reflected in his words. "Do you think that he will be a problem?", the telepathic question echoed within Yurielle's mind via the connection the twins shared through their shadows. "That is hard for me to say. I cannot find out more without being overt. He seems full of himself ... but who knows if it comes from a place of confidence ... or arrogance", the Icestorm Witch replied in much the same way.

Yuliana agreed with her sister's assessment. "So we'll have to wait and see, huh?". Yurielle's reply was curt, but her tone conveyed her emotions about the situation the twins found themselves in perfectly. "So it would seem". Naturally, the girls cared very little for the envoy's threats. They would set their plans in motion, no matter who would get in their way, and if this so-called Esper, Stefan Borisov, would get in their way, he would soon find himself in more than he could handle. That much was a fact.

---

Post Word Count: 749
Word Count: 1,564 / 4,000

WC: 0950 | TWC: 1606

Michael Brooklyn Morgan "Red Alert"

Ishgard Symposium - Group 1 (Pergrande)

Much to his disbelief, Michael couldn’t believe he’s working with some questionable individuals. True, this is much to be expected when you’re recruiting mercenaries, but to think they’d have the audacity to demonstrate their powers and entertain the thought of nuking the city just doesn’t seem right to him. Well, if they do have the ability to obliterate a city, he might as well keep a close eye on them. He wondered - why are they even here to begin with? The way he sees it now, they pose more of a threat than the Pergrandians, assuming they’re not in it for the money and are plotting something suspicious. Either way, he has to keep a close eye on them. Meanwhile, the other one who claimed to be a villain doesn’t exactly pose much of a threat to him, so he can’t say for sure if he is as much of a villain as he thought he is - nevermind the monologue that just passed as background noise to him. At least there is one person in this group he can trust - Kenna Terrynhain, the guildmaster of Sabertooth. He’s heard much of the guild from Giselle ever since he’s been pestered to join a guild. He refused to join one, much to her dismay. But regardless, he’s heard a lot of good things from them.

Escorted out of the envoy’s room, he turned to them. “Now that that’s out of the way, I’ll tell you this. I trust Kenna because she’s a guildmaster of a respectable guild.” He then faced the deFleur twins with a serious look, obscured by the helmet worn over his head, “But with your display of power and audacity to even entertain the thought of obliterating this city, let’s just say I won’t be keeping my eyes off you all. I do not trust you.” He briefly released the psionic prison keeping both his eldritch and demonic auras from escaping. One would then perceive him as a very dangerous threat from the auras he gave off, due to containing the might of both the devil, Loki,  and the elder god, C’thulhu. It was just a brief glimpse of his otherworldly might, owed much to his unfortunate circumstances. His little stunt had an implied threat to the twins and the Plumed Serpent's guild master, and it was now clear that he isn’t just an ordinary soldier and esper to the rest of the group and the Pergrandian soldiers. He can clearly do much more than just move things with his mind, but he isn’t privy to tell the full extent of his psionic powers. After all, he is just as capable of obliterating the city by undoing reality. “So be on your best behavior, and don’t do anything to harm the treatise, the envoy, and the people in the city.” He said with a stern voice, haunted by the echoes of the eldritch gods, before concealing his auras with a psionic prison once more.

He then turned to face the guildmaster of Sabertooth. He doesn’t have that much to say to her, but it’s best to make a good impression on her as a soldier. “I’ve heard lots of good things about Sabertooth. It would be a pleasure and an honor to work side by side with a respectable guildmaster.”

946/2623

Felidae City

A ceasefire, huh? In principle, Yurielle agreed with Odhran, her opinion of him improving just the slightest bit. He was observant, at least, but the incessant babble was something he had to work on. Charismatic people knew how to get their point across with dramatically fewer words. In due time, she thought, he could better his standing over the course of this gathering, from an especially annoying rat to a useful little house cat, perhaps?

As soon as the thought of ceasefire had come up, however, one of the little maggots would do its utmost to ruin the Icestorm Witch's inclination towards a peaceful resolution to today's events, her cold eyes turning towards the armored man slowly when he addressed the twins, Yuliana turning to face the man, as well. Yurielle's expression now, for the first time since showing herself before these people, would shift, her eyebrows inching closer together ever-so-slightly, though cold fury was raging like a blizzard within her unrelenting gaze. Yuliana, on the other hand, barely made a mystery of her outward hostility, some might even say aggression, a broad grin spreading across her furious features.

"Won't be keeping your eyes off us? We shouldn't harm the poor, poor people of this city?", Yuliana veritably snorted in mocking as she took a step towards the little rodent who had so boldly provoked her, no doubt thinking that his piss-poor display of "power", something that he unmistakably saw as grand and imposing, would even approach credible intimidation. Normally, Yurielle would have, of course, held her back, but this one, this especially ballsy little insect, he deserved a lesson in what true power meant. "Who the fuck are you to try and strongman us, you revolting piece of shit?!", Yuliana continued, paying no attention whatsoever to the other presences in the room as she took another step towards the self-proclaimed Esper. Her voice grew in intensity, the grin across her face spreading wider, becoming toothier with every word spoken, giving rise to a truly demented expression of murderous glee. "If you're so confident, maybe we should try destroying this city right here, right now? And who would even be able to stop us? YOU? A filthy, weak little rat scurrying around without a single usable brain cell in its head? I should rip it off right where you stand and-".

Her threat was interrupted by the woman from Iceberg, Yuliana turning her oculi, a pair aglow with the hues of a raging inferno, towards her, an audible "Tsk" escaping her lips. She'd almost lost her cool, realizing it just in time. They were here for a reason, she was once more reminded, Yuliana turning back to her sister, but not without shooting a rage-filled glance over her shoulder back at the self-identified Esper, her words laced with venom that, if given form, could certainly kill. "Keep your cretinous mouth shut if you know what's good for you". With that, the tension that had filled the chamber dissipated as quickly as it had risen.

Yurielle's voice echoed through her sister's mind, a small giggle, unheard by the rest of the assembled group, following her words. "A disappointing conclusion. I think it would have been entertaining to see you use the maggot's head as a punching bag".

Yuliana, however, wasn't in the mood to converse about this topic any longer, a pouty "Hmph" being the only reply the Flareblaze Witch's twin sister would receive. Needless to say, the twins would keep this in mind. There was no mistaking it. The little piece of shit had definitely released an aura that belonged to an eldritch being, something both Yurielle and Yuliana had no trouble discerning. Michael, after all, was not the only one here serving as a host to just such an entity. The twins, when asked about their power, of course, had also failed to mention that they both were something people commonly referred to as Slayers, their magic specifically crafted to hunt and destroy just such creatures, this fact only reinforcing Yuliana's knowledge that, had she not been rudely interrupted yet again, the Esper would be nothing more than a bloodied smear on one of the walls of this room by now, and if the opportunity arose, that would be the fate awaiting him.

After this little escapade had come and passed, things had begun to happen rather quickly. Yurielle and Yuliana kept to themselves, conversing telepathically without any means of intrusion into their chat, paying no mind to the Sabertooth Guild Master and her own antics, as well as the warriors or the other mages. An hour passed swiftly. The twins were assigned their positions in the group, their duty, much like that of the other mages, being the protection of the Imperial Envoy. That much was crystal-clear. The moment to embark towards the market, where the peace talks would apparently be held, had come, the group finally proceeding towards their objective.

Yurielle and Yuliana, beside the Iceberg warrior woman, would lead the group, the most intelligent choice, naturally. As the rude woman had said, the two were the strongest present. Being the vanguard was not only the most obvious, but also the most tactically sound option. Still, it would leave Yurielle, who strode forward with ever-graceful steps and bearing of almost regal nature, to take in the sights of Felidae City in full. The girl, unlike the Imperial Envoy, held no curiosity for these creatures, her feelings best described as contempt. Not only did they behave like animals, they also looked, smelled, and sounded the part, reinforcing her belief that these people were indeed nothing more than vermin. Yuliana, however, gave herself nonchalant, all while glancing about with keen interest. So this was the essence of Joya? It was primitive when compared to other nations of Earthland, Fiore or Minstrel, certainly, but it had its own niche, the Flareblaze Witch supposed. To both twins, however, this was not what was important. They were slowly approaching their objective, the Envoy being nothing but a matter of secondary importance. The real target was whatever puppet Bellum had sent to these negotiations, and the Pergrandian was merely a stepping stone on their way towards that individual, but as long as they did not know where this individual was and what they were capable of ... well, they would have to play along with this little farce. What the other mages in the group, or even what the Imperial envoy himself planned was of little consequence to the twin witches.

That was, however, when the situation changed once again, one of the bystanders having the audacity to hurl rotten fruit at the group. It seemed like Pergrande had made a name for itself internationally, and this sentiment was certainly reflected within the populace of Felidae City. Yuliana scowled, but this time it would be Yurielle to act first, ignoring what the Esper in the group did as she stepped forward. "Filthy maggots. Know your place".

At once, with a snap of her fingers, the air around the group was filled with might, raw, unrestricted power on a different level than that she had displayed back when the Iceberg warrior had demanded an introduction. No, this time, the air would, in a moment that passed like an instant, be filled with pressure that could easily crush a person, if its wielder so desired, the fruit flying towards the group smashing into the ground ineffectually if her ability would take shape unhindered. Yurielle had closed one of her eyes, the other one, alight with a burning flare of deeply radiant azure, peering at the crowd, her pupil twisted into the shape of a 4-pointed star as she spoke, her voice whipping across the streets of Felidae like a hurricane, backed by the immense pressure of her raw supernatural authority.




At once, every single person in the crowd of onlookers without sufficient resistance to her might would be forced to execute her command and obey as if an iron-grip had pushed their bodies to do so, freezing them in place. The mages, the warriors, and the envoy, of course, would be exempt from the authority of this command. Still, Yurielle would slowly turn to glance at the envoy, her single eye, lit up eerily with the devastating cold of winter's ice, staring through the Pergrandian as she directed a simple question at the envoy.

"Should I eliminate them?"

---

Post Word Count: 1,403
Word Count: 2,967 / 4,000

OOC Notes:

WC: 0901| TWC: 2507

Michael Brooklyn Morgan "Red Alert"

Ishgard Symposium - Group 1 (Pergrande)

Michael had just listened to the brat’s prattle. He wasn’t amused, and thought it was just a little brat’s tantrum. He isn’t exactly fond of babysitting brats like them, so it was great that he’s cooperating with the Sabretooth guildmaster. However, this just means he won’t be able to keep an eye on the twins directly. Which is fine for him, he’ll just have to keep an eye on his psionic radar, keeping tabs on everyone’s actions and labelling the dots on the map. The Pergrandians’ dots were colored a crystal blue, while the envoy’s dot was golden and marked with a star, labelled appropriately with his name. Kenna was appropriately marked yellow, bearing the same yellow insignia of the sabretooth and was shaped as such. Meanwhile, those he can’t trust are colored a lighter red. He trusts that the soldier named Estrid would ‘put a leash over their heads’ and control them, considering their tech being able to suppress magic as evident from his previous fight with the Paladins.

The door opened to the bustling city while he was accompanying the envoy towards where they were going. Nothing out of the ordinary, he thought, until later his danger senses kicked in as he felt something fast approaching. Reacting quickly, Michael used his telekinetic grip to intercept the attack. Though unfortunately, he grabbed it too hard and made a mess on himself as foul ichor stained his pristine armor. He squinted at the object, as he was trying to tell what this substance was. The color was muddied and, because of the helmet, he can’t exactly tell what it was from the smell due to his slight color blindness. Whatever it was, someone wasn’t pleased, as someone from the crowd yelled out an insult to the envoy. He’d heard it before, perhaps while he was in the port city of Lavanitir. ‘Pergrandian scum’ wasn’t a very new insult to him. And then it occurred to him that the objects thrown were, in fact, tomatoes. And it wasn’t just one who was displeased - it was a group of angry Joyans, as Michael looked up to see a rain of tomatoes going down their location, aimed towards the envoy. He’d considered turning them into butterflies through reality manipulation, or sending them elsewhere with a portal, but that’d expose his hand. They’re just tomatoes, afterall, so why go all out when you can exercise restraint?

He raised his hand as if grabbing one of the tomatoes, using his telekinesis to manipulate them as an exercise of his psionic ability. Then, as if being controlled by an invisible supernatural force, some of the tomatoes stopped moving, this time with more restraint, so as not to repeat the mistake he did prior. Perfectly intact, the tomatoes would then drop to the side slowly, and away from the envoy’s path. He’d only taken care of the tomatoes that’d directly hit the envoy and missed several of them, whom he trusts the Sabretooth guildmaster to take care of. Michael then noticed the crowd after he’d heard one of the twin’s voices. Needless to say, he isn’t pleased at all. In fact, he’d have a lot of shit to say, but he couldn’t compose his thoughts clearly, as the only words that escaped his mouth was, “Those brats!” He could feel his anger rising, with his demon side responding in kind to his hostility against the twins. It quickly died down knowing that he shouldn’t make a scene, not in front of the crowd anyways, and not while his twins are around.

1021/3644

Felidae City

WC: 0533 | TWC: 3040

Certainly enough, Yurielle deFleur's thundering voice, which had delivered the rather persuasive arcane command of complete domination, caused the mass of people to kneel at once, the distinctly impressive sound of hundreds bending the knee at the same time echoing through the crowded street before an eery silence filled the air. Time appeared frozen for just a passing moment until the envoy reacted to the display, making no mystery of his obvious glee. Yurielle, however, decidedly ignored Odhran, who seemed to have another fit of mania when he opened his mouth anew, the opinion the Icestorm Witch held about him, previously risen, lowering once again. It was amusing in its own way, the way he managed to both rise and fall in his standing in just the deFleur twins' eyes within the span of mere minutes, again and again. He, however, was not the one to call the shots here, or, well, in any other scenario. Not as far as Yurielle and Yuliana were concerned.

Yurielle's wide-open left eye followed Borisov as he moved, not immediately receiving an answer to her question as he told his own guard to stand down, advancing past the older of the white-haired twins and towards the paralyzed mob, which was, of course, still firmly held in place via chains of supernatural force. Then, however, the Imperial Envoy signaled his rejection of Yurielle's implied proposal, the silent intent to commit an unspeakable atrocity that had filled the air about her vanishing as quickly as it had come with a simple "As you wish". The girl and her sister, which had crossed her arms and enjoyed the little show with a broad, genuine smile of evidently smug superiority, simply listened to the envoy with their respective attitudes.

Honestly, the twins couldn't help but individually agree with the envoy, Yuliana nodding along with what the man said, maintaining her overt expression of perceived dominance, while Yurielle remained characteristically silent and stoic, though would agree without indication of that fact. These creatures, whatever they were in the end, they were filthy, weak animals, naught much more than dirt on the roadside, and as Stefan had so eloquently put it, excrement, indeed. Their lives, naturally, were hardly of any concern to either deFleur twin.

When the command from the Pergrandian came, Yurielle did not hesitate. "Very well", came the soft, composed reply in stark contrast to the air of authority the girl had had about her only seconds prior. Within a moment, the glow from within the marble-like oculus of ice-hued azure would dim and the magic would disperse, allowing the people lined up on their knees to move freely once more, though Yurielle remained vigilant and maintained not only her left Mystic Eye. With a deep, inhaling breath, the Icestorm witch opened her right eye as well, the pupil shifting like a shadow steeped in frigid emptiness in the same manner the other had. Yuliana, of course, interpreted this signal without any words, the Flareblaze Witch closing her eyes for just a passing moment before opening them anew, a broad grin spreading across her lips once more, the distinct shape of a 4-pointed star shining from within the inferno that was her gaze. With the interference of bystanders, it had become apparent that anyone in this crowd could be a threat to the twins' plans, which, naturally, necessitated approaching their task of defending the Envoy with a little more seriousness.

Thus, with their greatest weapon in the form of two sets of God-Killer Mystic Eyes being ready for anything that might befall the group, Yurielle and Yuliana proceeded at the head of the group as the envoy decided it was time to advance once more, without further incident ... for the time being, that was, and it did not long to change that fact.

The road ahead appeared blocked off, awfully conveniently, however, a different route seemed to be available, a fact that Odhran, to sum up an entirely unnecessary speech that seemed to drag on and on, apparently objected to. The envoy, however, did not seem to mind much. It was clear who of the two the twins would follow, but the particularly talkative god of rats had a point when he mentioned that it would be an ideal spot for an ambush, and if even the braindead summoning mage could figure that much out then anyone whose aversion to Pergrande ran deeper than mere rotten fruit would express could, too. "Do you think we'll run into more trouble?", the telepathic question Yuliana raised echoed within Yurielle's mind, the girl giving a swift reply in kind to her twin sister. "It is likely. Remain vigilant. If we encounter resistance seeking to ruin our plans ... then you have my permission to slaughter anyone who gets in our way. Do not hesitate". The grin on Yuliana's face, an expression of relaxed anticipation, broadened ever-so-slightly. "Got it". With this matter settled, the twins followed the warrior woman from Iceberg, the trio forming the vanguard, Yurielle's and Yuliana's imposingly sharp senses scanning for any anomaly, the incident that was almost guaranteed to occur any moment now.

---

Post Word Count: 856
Word Count: 3,821 / 4,000

OOC Notes:

746/4,390

Felidae City

WC: 0705 | TWC: 3745

Michael Brooklyn Morgan "Red Alert"

Ishgard Symposium - Group 1 (Pergrande)

He felt something odd as he was passing through the gates, though he was too late to react as he felt a hand grab him and was pulled by Estrid, just as the doors slammed shut. It has split him from the rest of his comrades, with only him protecting the Pergrandian diplomat. A hiss was heard, and as the gas entered their area, he found his telekinetic powers growing weaker. “An ambush.” He mumbled to himself, though in a very unsurprising tone. It was expected if you’re going to be a bodyguard, and cities have certain blind spots which would be ideal places for surprise attacks. As to who might be responsible for this, his curiosities were answered as masked men teleported in. No doubt, this gas doesn’t affect them the slightest.

“It’s kill or be killed.”

A voice echoed within him, the same maniacal voice he’d heard when he’d see red. Though this was different, as if this voice was trying to crawl into his psyche. “You do not want the same thing to happen back in the order, don’t you?” Whatever this voice was doing, it was working. He was seeing red. His heart was beating fast at the memory of his fallen comrades, reminding him of his failure as a soldier. “No. Never again.” He thought to himself as he resolved to deal with them. While this gas proved to be detrimental to his psionic abilities, this nevertheless failed to suppress his combat ability. The only question is, what can he use to his advantage? If the envoy really was an esper, then this gas would more or less affect them as well. Then there’s Estrid, who he has no idea how good she’d fight. The constant leak of this gas would prove to be a detriment so it wasn’t ideal to use aerokinesis against them. No, there must be another way. Before anything else, he waved his hands in his attempt to use his aerokinesis on him, Stefan, and Estrid, conjuring warding winds to try and prevent them from inhaling more of the gas, as well as protecting them from harm. This might prove to be beneficial to them, unless the effects of the gas would linger further.

Their ambushers must be heavily reliant on their gas masks, allowing them to fight with their magic intact. Not exactly a fair tactic, but it’s most effective. It may also be their greatest weakness - without it, they’d be afflicted with the gas’s effects. In an attempt to tip the scales in his favor, he tries to manipulate the masks of 10 of them through his weakened Telekinetic Grip. The masks would be wreathed in crimson psionic power in his attempt to pull the masks off them. If successful, he should be able to pull these masks out, if perhaps completely, letting them succumb to the gas. If it all goes in his favor, these magic reliant enemies would be significantly weaker, turning his attention to the other two.

Through mental commands, he’d brought out his Standard Pistol and Standard Dagger from his cyberspace. He would then fire 10 bullets from his pistol - 8 to the unmasked ones, and 2 to the masked ones to try and figure out if they have any defensive spells to protect them. Though if unprotected, the bullets aimed at their chests would surely leave them in a critical state. He’d then focus his attention on the masked ones, if they’re still up. He’d teleport close to them, with a dagger at the ready to try and attempt to strike one of them down with a lethal slash.

By then he would have brought down most of the enemies if all goes according to plan, though that might be unlikely if he can’t bring their masks off them.

Abilities Used:

The passage the small group reached swiftly already constituted a tactical bottleneck. It would be very easy to surround the gathering of mages, warriors, and, of course, espers in the confines of this tunnel carved into the rock of Felidae's cliffside and cut off any means of regular escape by blocking off both exits. Still, that wouldn't do anything to stop magical means of movement, something that, Yurielle assumed, most mages were more than easily capable of. Sadly enough, however, it did not seem as though any trouble would await them at this point in time, the small bodyguard unit and their VIP traversing the path forward unhindered. A bummer, really, or so thought the younger of the deFleur twins, the action Yuliana had expected remaining absent for just a little while longer. Like a kid on Christmas eve, however, the Flareblaze Witch could barely contain her anticipation, the girl quietly humming to herself as she walked with carefree steps, her stride taking her closer to the cliffside while her sister kept her ice-blue oculi focussed solely ahead, continuing in front of Stefan in a regal and unchanging pace.

Yuliana whistled in astonishment, however, letting her gaze wander over the view that stretched out to one side of the group just past the mountainous terrain of Felidae, a blanket of emerald green hues and spots of jade-colored canopies spreading as far as the eye could see. Truly, it was a sight that would captivate anyone who for the first time would have the great fortune of beholding it, certainly enough so to be called one of those wonders of nature that people liked to get all sentimental about from time to time, Yuliana mused. It was too bad that their plans did not take this fact into consideration. "Ah, well, it can't be helped", the thought crossed the Flarerblaze Witch's mind before she, with light steps, found her way back to the forefront of the group, the gathering quickly approaching another spot that could spell a problem for them: The current path ended in a lift system, something that was evidently designed to take groups of people further up the cliffs.

Still, they had come this far uninterrupted, and the Imperial Envoy appeared undeterred. The group continued onwards, past the gate, though when the twins and the warriors had passed the trap that had been set up would spring. Within a moment, one portion of the group was separated from the other by the snap of the fence gate which separated the lift from the rest of the path.

This would be it. The moment the two had been waiting for.

Odhran and Kenna had been separated, finding themselves on the other side of the gate. Good. The two could do without the annoying blabbermouth for a while. Michael, The warriors from Iceberg, and finally the Imperial Envoy found themselves locked in on this side of the gate. To make matters interesting, this was where the mysterious figures would appear by the dozens. As expected. Only an imbecile would discount the possibility of combat on an escort like this one. It was all as Yurielle had predicted. What was unexpected, however, would the sudden, albeit distinctive hiss that rang out around them, the air suddenly filled with fumes of an unknown nature. With their heightened senses, the twins could detect the noxious odor of whatever this was instantly, but that alone wasn't enough to hinder this substance from taking effect. Within moments, Yurielle felt her vision tremble for just an instant, Yuliana's senses almost fading completely before returning to normalcy. This ... whatever it was, it interfered with their eyes, and, as a conclusion of that fact, with their magic.

"You'd dare? You'd actually dare interfere with the eyes of God?"

The voice practically left Yuliana as a screech, her voice trembling with emotion, a raging hatred that was barely kept from exploding by a simple fact alone, born from the fact that these little cockroaches had tried to bring her down to their level by means best described as despicable.

"Go", Yurielle gave her permission.

A broad grin spread across Yuliana's lips, twisting her face into a warped expression of unadulterated murderous intent. From that point on, things would happen in rapid succession.

First, Yurielle would move to the Imperial Envoy's side with uncharacteristic swiftness not expected from the girl that had thus far not made many hasty movements or otherwise displayed any behavior that would distort the regal image she presented. Still, time was of the essence, the Icestorm Witch moving to try to intercept anyone attempting to reach the VIP and protecting him with a spell at the same time.

Yuliana, meanwhile, would follow the instructions her older sister had given her telepathically earlier. There was no way that this insult could stand. She would teach these filthy pieces of trash what true power was, power that superseded the imagination, power not afflicted by a few whiffs of an aerosol.

The time for a soft approach was over right this instant, and both deFleur twins realized that at the same moment.

This would be a massacre.

With a tremble that ran through the air as a ripple of force, both the Icestorm Witch and the Flareblaze Witch would stop relying on external magic power in the same moment, utilizing the mana their shared benefactor provided them with in a display of what people referred to as Slayer Force. The space around Yurielle grew critically frigid, the moisture in the air beginning to crystallize and spread out as a dense fog, while the air around Yuliana shimmered with scorching heat before both of them were covered in a cloak of infinitely black, otherworldly darkness.

Yurielle opened her mouth, her monotonous voice nothing more than a whisper, and still, the word she spoke ringing clear as a bell.

"Azalith"

The deep voice, more a rumble than consistent speech, echoed back through Yurielle's mind immediately, her shadow twitching.

"Yes, child?".

"It's time".

"It certainly is".

An invisible hand reached out, placing a crown upon the Icestorm Witch's head that materialized from thin air, seemingly growing from condensed crystals of ice. If the spell was successful, a nigh-indestructible shell of ice would wrap around herself and her immediate surroundings, something that would hopefully include the Envoy if he remained close.

Yuliana, however, was out for blood. The action was already beginning. An ethereal grip of shadow wrapped itself around the girl's arm, projecting the image of its own distorted, clawed hand over the Flareblaze Witch's. Within her grasp, from emptiness between emptiness, a pitch-black scythe, a void in space, would take shape. With this crown and weapon now firmly in their possession, both items conjured by the mysterious patron called Azalith, the twins would make their move, Yurielle bursting through the air faster than a bullet at the nearest enemy in an attempt to bisect the lowly creature hiding behind that mask, moving on to the next one and the one after that in a display of unrestrained gruesomeness. And if this despicable gas somehow messed with her attempt ... then her fists and raw physical strength would simply have to do.

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Post Word Count: 1,195
Word Count: 5,016 / 4,000

OOC Notes:

Stats:

1084/5474

Felidae City