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Who: Desmond Miles & ERRYONE ELSE
What: Frost Faeries have arrived. It does not bode well. Come jump on the welcome wagon for Desmond and team up for great faerie-slaying justice!
When: Early morning on day 39, just before the sun rises.
Where: The streets of Hel district, spilling over to Sigyn. Kind of on the border of both.
Rating: PG-13 for violence? Will update later if needed.

Well, this place was certainly a treat. So different and bizarre, yet so annoyingly familiar. For his own part, Desmond was starting to get real sick of the whole "kidnapped into places and things that don't make immediate sense" thing. He'd stayed off of the network-- browsed, but never posted. There was just too much going on for him to make a public outreach yet.

And then the things showed up. Yes, the things. The ice things. Beautiful. Elegant. Wanted him dead. It kind of seemed like par for the course for his life. He'd encountered his first not far from the housing lodge he'd been assigned to in the Hel district, but hell if it was the last one. They were everywhere, and while Desmond was able to hold his own well enough on the first one that tried to rip his throat out through the roof of his mouth, it didn't really seem likely that he'd be able to live to tell the tale if he took on more than one or two at a time. Seriously, they were everywhere.

Breathing hard and staring down at the hunks of ice at his feet, Desmond resheathed his hidden blade, the metal smoothly sliding back up into the bracer on his wrist and nearly disappearing. This was dangerous and reckless and stupid. But he wanted to get to the hospital, for more than one reason. It was apparently in Sigyn district. He headed for the nearest building and started to scale the wall. Windows, loose molding, anything that could give him a good grip. It'd be safer to travel on the rooftops.

It would also be easier to spot anyone down on the streets who needed help.

((OOC: I know it's shitty for me to post this and go to bed, but I was feeling inspired and I have work tomorrow. Will respond to tags when I get home tomorrow night! In the meantime, mingle! Go forth! Be merry! KILL SOME FROSTY BUTTHOLES!))

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[The drop in temperature was a major clue, as was that persistent whisper -- this wasn't any natural cold spell. Conan had tugged on his warmest coat and two layers of gloves and socks. If it was another giant, he'd need the padding in case of burns. Inwardly, he was berating himself -- he'd spent too long gathering the emergency supplies. They'd not yet delivered them to the shelters ...

At least he had them to hand. Bundling the bag of emergency supplies intended for the hospital over his coat, Conan made his way downstairs and out of the Hel Welcome Hall as fast as he could, thankful for once for the apathy of the majority of his fellow residents. No one was likely to care what he did, or try to stop him -- and he made his way outside with ease.

Once outside -- well that was a different story.

Somewhere en route between Sigyn and Hel, Conan's backed up a wall, expression set. Two of the ice fairies stand, blocking his escape route -- clearly, the boy's been cornered.

But there's something wrong with this scenario. The faerie nearest the boy ... well its turned on its companion, attacking it with jerky movements that seem somehow at odds with its own body. And Conan -- doesn't look scared. He looks like he's concentrating very hard.]

(( this is not a first come, first served deal! I imagine that Conan's going to get himself into similar scrapes all day, so please feel free to jump in, even change the location if you'd like!))

As Desmond wound his way through the district on the rooftops, he kept a sharp eye out for anyone down on the streets that could've possibly been caught off guard. He wasn't really much of a natural-born hero, but he definitely didn't want to see people hurt. And so when he noticed a young boy cornered by two of those damn things, he didn't even have to think twice about jumping down to help.

He broke out into a free-run in order to get there in time, but he slowed as he approached. There was something definitely weird about the scenario playing out in front of him. As he watched with a sense of morbid curiosity, he came to a stop, standing a few feet away from where the one faerie was tearing into its brother. Far enough away to not be intrusive, but close enough to jump in if shit went south.

He had half a mind to say something, but he decided against it. His own fascination kept him silent. There was a part of him that kind of felt like he should take sides and root for one over the other, but really, he just wanted to see how this would turn out in the end. Maybe he wouldn't have to help at all, which was pretty alright by him.

Oh man. Wait. Is this what that maid meant by 'body control'? Holy shit. What a power.

The second faerie is not going to stand by idly, letting itself get attacked. It swings back, its movements considerably easier than its companion's. As Desmond's arrival causes a flicker in Conan's concentration, it deals quickly and ruthlessly with it's companion.

Conan hastily struggles to regain control, but the damage is done. In a few short moments the battle is over and the remaining faerie comes to a halt. It's also noticed Desmond's presence and is clearly sizing up which of the pair is the easier target.

For that long moment, the only sound is of breath, misting in the cold morning. Then the faerie moves.

[Feferi's backed against a wall, facing down two frost fairies with her Brainfork. She doesn't look that worried, though, and sets about smashing one and then the other. Still, there are a lot of frost fairies. Help a troll fish girl out?]

[Well, there's going to be the splitting of ice as the pointed end of a white cane jabs through one of them, ripping out the side and then smashing in the other with a dragon's head. The legislacerator may be blind, but she's no stranger to violence or survival, even if she can't see it. Above her, a roar goes out, drowning any screeches from the fairies before a single line of fire pinpoints a few and proceeds to melt them.

You wanted help, Feferi? You got an ancestor with her Pyralspite in tow.]

[Iceland has obviously been running, given how out of breath he sounds as his feet slam against the pavement. He's not familiar with Sigyn district, only vaguely aware that the hospital is somewhere, and the unfamiliarity is making it difficult for him to escape the fairies in pursuit. If anything, he's attracted more of them than he knows what to do with in his desperate escape, and it's not long before a wrong turn places him in an alleyway with no exit unless he sprouts wings or gets really good at flying.

It's there, backed up against a wall, that he finally starts letting loose with the fire spells, aiming fireballs at the surprisingly resistant creatures. Still, there's obviously no way he can fight off anywhere near as many as the herd he's got.]

Nore and Dan are never around when it'd be useful... It's probably Dan's fault.

[He's whining, but he sounds incredibly nervous, underneath the facade of annoyance at the world.]

[Conan's still in Sigyn district himself, though having left his own faeries behind, he's moving much more cautiously. He heards Iceland and his 'friends' before he sees them, approaching quietly and cautiously so as to remain unnoticed by them.

One of the ice faeries towards the back starts to hack at it's fellows suddenly. It's movements are clumsy at first, but steadily growing easier.]

[Confusion flashes across Iceland's face as he sees the fairy turn on the others, but Iceland isn't about to complain about that. Instead, he tries to herd the other frost fairies toward the traitorous one with his fireballs.]

It's a little hard keeping up with so many combatants. Conan takes a deep breath, thinks of Ran and steels his resolve. It's easy to pretend that she's there with him, the strikes that the faerie makes having a distinctly karate-like flavour to them. Sharp and unrelenting, unwavering even when it's comrades retaliate, the faerie persists until it is finally brought down ...

Wincing at the sharp pain as his concentration is broken abruptly, Conan takes a deep breath and focuses on the next.]

[Iceland is casting about when he can for the reason for the traitor fairies, but he doesn't want to call out to someone who might be helping him and end up bringing the fairies down on whoever it is--it would probably mean they'd have to stop helping him out. A more consistent flame, he realizes, melts the fairies much better than a quick fireball.

Well, he hopes someone is around helping him out, or he's going to sound ridiculous talking to himself.]

I need something to set on fire!

[Conan starts at the shout -- but quickly catches Iceland's meaning. Something that will both burn and envelop the monsters quickly --

Giving the faerie he's controlling a last push into his fellows, trusting that the resulting confusion will buy himself and Iceland more time, Conan set to work shrugging off his backpack of emergency supplies he's taking to Sigyn. The space blanket is both large and flammable. Conan ends up scrambling up one of the alley walls, to drop the blanket from above. He's panting as he does, worried -- although he's worked as quickly as he could, it's taken time -- is he too late to help ... ?]

[Iceland keeps fighting the fairies back, though there are enough that they do swarm him. Still, he's not as completely useless in a close fight as he might appear. So close it's easy enough to hold their faces until their heads melt or smash them, and while he certainly doesn't get away with no injuries when the blanket covers the group he's not in bad shape. It catches on fire as soon as it covers the frost fairies, and Iceland finally leans back against the alley wall.]

That was close...

[He's got cuts now and he'll have bruises before too long, but right now he's just relieved.]

Haaa ...

[Conan lets out a deep sigh of relief, closing his eyes for a minute. That was -- that was almost too close. He allows himself another moment to catch his breath before sliding ungracefully from the wall, to reappear a moment later, dragging the back pack of emergency supplies over towards Iceland.]

How are you -- are you [pause to catch breath] hurt?

[Iceland recognizes Conan from the library. He would be more embarrassed about having to be helped by a little kid if he wasn't so tired.]

A few cuts.

[He'll whine to his brothers about them later, but he isn't about to do that in front of someone he doesn't know well.]

What about you?

Just tired. That ...

[Conan pulls out the first aid kit, setting it beside Iceland. He has to work to remove both sets of gloves that he's wearing.]

I've never had to do anything like that before.

[It's sort of only hitting him now. That was -- actual battle. They could both have been --

Come on! You're smarter than this -- Where's the Kudo cool? Think, damnit!]

The cuts -- on your arms?

[Iceland can't help but feel a little bit bad for a child having to go fight things like that, but he can't really worry about that now, and Iceland wouldn't know how to address it anyway.]

They're easier to melt if I'm close, but...

[He looks over his arms. There's nothing particularly deep, luckily.]

[Conan breathes a sign of relief. The cuts don't look serious -- there's only one that looks like it needs urgent bandaging. As he starts applying the bandage, he asks.] Where were you headed? The hospital? Or the Welcome Hall?

Hospital. I couldn't stay in Sigyn's hall that long [he gestures to his bracelet, baring the color of Odin] and I don't know where anything else is around here. I was just trying to get inside somewhere protected. What about you?

[Should a little kid really be wandering around on their own...]

[Conan nods, quickly finishing the bandages.] That will last you until the hospital ... The others can be easily healed, so lets conserve supplies.

[He packs up the first-aid kit quickly.]

My friends and I made emergency kits for situations like this. We were going to take them to places like the hospital and the healing stations set up last time, only -- I didn't expect anything to happen so soon.

Ne ... if you're going to the hospital already ... could you carry this backpack?

[It's the sudden change in temperature that grips him at first, Ezio's senses pinging at an alarming rate, skin crawling and telling him something is wrong. The sounds of clashing and clawing only confirm it as he hastily bundles up, donning the assassin's hood and both blades, before heading to the rooftops. He's almost certain his brothers are behind him, already acting on their own in the Odin house. They would protect and take care of things for now- he would be able to meet up with them later. Now, Ezio had to focus on those who were in trouble, first.

Ironic, wasn't it? Desmond was heading to the Sigyn district, and that was the same distric Ezio resided in.

Climbing the nearby rooftops, the maestro could only run and dash across spaces, taking his time to ensure that everyone would reach some safety.]

Hallucinations were becoming so commonplace for Desmond that he barely even acknowledged them anymore. And so when he caught sight of Ezio running across the rooftops some distance away from him, his first thought was to ignore it and keep going. For some reason, though, he couldn't look away this time. Lucy wasn't with him to keep him focused, and he would be lying if he said that he wasn't intensely curious about where his ancestor had been and what he could show him. It couldn't hurt him that much to follow the trail, could it? He knew it was just a hallucination, and as long as he kept that in mind, how bad could this possibly be?

Against his better judgment, Desmond took off in Ezio's direction. He kept a healthy distance, if for no other reason than he had no reason to catch up and run neck and neck with him. It was a nice exercise either way, as Desmond stayed a few buildings behind Ezio, making sure not to lose him.

But Ezio is not a fool, and he can certainly feel when others are following him. Call it intuition or something harvested from years of training, but it's built into him and he knows it like the back of his hand. So when Desmond follows, the maestro doesn't stop. He keeps moving, but he's well aware of the one who is just a few houses away.

Turning to his right, he actually leaps off a building, crouching as he lands, and waits by a corner for a minute or so, concealing himself in shadow. What he's doing, it's not quite understandable, why would he be-

And then his sword is unsheathed and stabbing right through the front of a fairy whizzing by, knee slamming it into the ground as he twists the blade and manages to break apart the upper cavity. Then he slams his hidden blade into the neck, pulling upwards and making a nice wedge line that goes up through its face, the creature screeching before it dies.

All the while he's vaguely aware of the other fairies coming around him, but can only do so much when two attack him at the same time. Might want to help there, Desmond, or your grandpa is gonna get scratches all over him.

When Desmond reached the last building, he took a moment to stand at the edge of the roof and peer down the side. A weird mixture of emotion washed over him then. It wasn't the first time that he'd seen what he understood to be an illusion interacting with something he understood to be real, but it was the first time he'd seen the 'real' thing interact back. He was both utterly surprised and so completely not at the same time, and the dichotomy left him standing impotent for the briefest of seconds.

It didn't really matter what was going on, he decided. All that mattered was that it was going on, and that he felt stupidly compelled to pursue it further and step in. Or, more accurately, jump in. Before he even realized what he was doing, he was already in midair, set to land on one of the fairies and drive his hidden blade through its neck. A move Ezio might recognize as being his own.

But either way, don't fret, grandpa. The cavalry is here. He just doesn't really... understand it yet.

It's not until the sound of another blade wedging itself into ice, that Ezio realizes that the one who was following him is probably another brother. At first, he thinks it's Malik, and it would make sense, if only for the other having some difficulty in climbing without an arm. But when he turns, and sees Desmond's face, everything comes to a screeching halt.

He looks almost exactly like Altaïr and himself.

But it's the sound of incoming claws through the air that snap him back into reality, arm batting away the swipe as it comes close and stabbing the creature through the side of the neck.

"Indietro a indietro." It's his saying that they need to work together. While he may not know this stranger, he recognizes when he's saved, and therefore can place a certain amount of trust in him for now. Besides, Ezio has questions for Desmond, which include "when did you arrive here," and "why do you look like me?" ~~oh those'll work well, Ezio~~

"Be careful to avoid touching them. Aim for the neck, the shoulder, or the upper cavity. Those are their weak spots." The maestro turns his head, allowing the side of his hood to show, and gives a brief nod.

Better get to it.

Edited 2012-02-26 18:27 (UTC)

_{[Mercedes still wasn't a fan of cold weather, let alone the snow, but she had heard reports of fairies attacking- ice fairies- and had gone out to investigate. As Queen of the Faeries back home, she felt it was her duty of sorts, really, to see to the matter, and to help fight back. Sure, it felt a little weird, but it had to be done.

So the young queen is out fighting as well, her crossbow drawn and ready.]}

[It was not the most ideal situation in the world and while the creatures seemed small enough they proved their worth in pain. While it was nothing he could not handle at the moment he was beginning to realize that his lacking an arm could be considered a real handicap at times, particularly when two had made their way to the rooftops of Odin in which he had traveled to demolish on of the childlike imps. The cold, it was intense to say the least, his breath caught the air as he exhaled. At the moment all he could really wonder was a handful of things as he took a blade to the creature; how did the fairies screams seem to pierce the air, where could he find a place to restore the blades of his weapons after attacking solid blocks of ice, why where these so-called powers were so useless and where the hell did Altaïr run off to?

Damn novice. At this point he would always be a novice in his mind and when things came down to it, he could not be relied on. Certainly the other man, Ezio--was well off in his own district handling things, he seemed capable at least but Altaïr had not made contact in nearly a week. With a hiss of breath he cursed quietly as the ice beast made contact with his skin and he could feel the sharp jab of pain slide up his arm.

Once he would find himself free of the two annoyances, he would make sure to move on to assist any others in need but until then, he made waste of one before moving to the other.]

So. This was more like what Ichigo expected when he'd heard there was a war going on. There were enemies all around, and like he'd suspected, a lot of the people here weren't fighters, although they were certainly trying. So, weapon in hand, he decided to pick up the slack.

This was proving a BIT more challenging than normal, however-after being retrained to use his spiritual senses, now that they were gone again his concentration was slipping. And even a mere touch from one of them caused frostbite, let alone getting hit by their claws. And while his speed helped, it was still not as fast as he was used to back home, which was also hampering his reactions a bit.

And then-of course-they got smart and decided to surround him. Shit. Still, he swore he wouldn't go down without a goddamn fight.

But, you know, help? Would be amazing right about now.

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open!!!

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sry for late tags! unexpected extra hours at work

no worries!

open to all

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