Prophetic Dreams

[Anomaly]

OOC ~ (this is a Masters Entry Battle. It will be held between Nyarlathotep, the applicant, and Makoto-Tribal of the Godhand. There will be a posting limit of Five posts per person. There is no time limit. First come, first serve. At the end of this battle, the Godhand shall convine and decide if Nyarlathotep is worthy of entry into The Masters.

Good luck and good fight)

A perfect Void. The sky sprawls forever in every direction...a soft, twilight pink mixed with the deep blue of oncoming night and the heavy swirl of clouds. Not a breath of air moves in this place...and suddenly, half the sky ripples. The sky distorts and peels away around a crystal rising from its surface.

Surface it is...a huge reflective body of water situated beneath the boundless sky...no land other than this crystal is visible. As it rises, it takes on form, and hue...a reflective light eminating from it as the first stars peek from the heavens. Other stones begin to rise slowly, silently, further distorting the water.

This is a place of illusions...or perhaps merely of dreams. It is a place that can be found on no map, lost between dimension. Yet here it exists...the water obviously deep in places, yet seems shallow in others. no life stirs here, only the shifting of crystals and star light a reminder of the passing of time. From behind a bank of clouds, three moons emerge...a blue giant, a crimson dwarf, and an even smaller yellow orb that seems to move swiflty around the blue orb, disappearing and reappearing around its azure edges.

A sense of anticipation suffuses the atmosphere. As though a storm that has been long in the building is finally about to break. The baleful gaze of the moon watches on as the crystals resonate with their dancing light, and begin to shift and move in the glassy surface of the water, orbiting about the first and largest of the crystals.

[Deicide]

Dazzling white light illuminates the midnight heavens, for a moment it is almost as if a fourth moon has been born into the skies embrace, but that moment is fleeting, and the light quickly dims around the descending and increasingly more desernable figure of the Beast who entrance into this realm was its brief origin.

Slowly she plummets, a kind of controlled freefall, long dark hair flowing softly behind, diveing through the air as others would through water, the tattered white wings to either side seeming not to much as to aid in flight as to slow her glide, catching upon the cold winds transparent surface before thick, black pawpads elegantly touch down on the multi-facited crystal of this otherworldly arena. Tattered tail tip slowly comes to rest on the ground behind, and in that moment those strange, blood tinted wings explode into a the air around her, a brief storm of shattered feathers that fade from existance so quickly as to leave any in viewing at doubt as to wether they ever truely existed at all..

Catching glimpse of her reflection stareing up from the dark depths that take up so space here, the angel takes a minute to pay it heed of her odd apperance.
Like a wolf that has taken to bipedal stance, she has much of the Children of Eve in this form, the only real variants being the destinctly canine head, extensive starlight hued fur, and bushy tail twitching behind animalistic legs. The anhk on her forhead burns for a moment, most likely a result of the effort used in the transition to this place, she raises a forpaw to grasp the emblem about her kneck, the Omega Crusifix, the same sign that is stitched, albeit more crude and basic of a depictation, upon the ragged jeans that she donned so long ago, back when she was foolish enough to try and pass as humankin. Eventually the branding mark of mortally seemingly settles, sighing, the white figure lets go of the shineing pendant, scarred, hand-like paws dropping to either side, head riseing to the Moons above as three soul wrentching howls rip from her throat, each in respect to one of the celestial bodies above, the call of one of the Nights Children to her ever present Guardians above.

It is with head still skywards faceing, glittering green eyes still shut in reverance that the Angelic Fallen finally gives speach in a voice powerful yet rasping, timeless yet of the flesh, the voice of one who was has known eternity, who has seen that no mortal was ever meant to see..

'The crystal here may phase mine eyes, so long accustomed as they are to the realms of Grey, but your scent is harder to hide, your intent lies heavy on the air young one. Come, bring yourself before us, that we may begin.'

As she finishes speaking she lowers her head, a crafty smile upon that unearthly muzzle, fangs half bared as paws slip over shineing slick surface and into a fighters post with ease and huge silver blade, now drawn, glimmers threatingly by the light of the three sky maidens above.
Eyes snap open in pale furred head to reveal the soft glow of lifes own breath that pulses eternal beneath mortal binding.

:..2-2-7..:

[Zephyr]

In the distance, a dark, hooded figure detaches itself from one of the many smaller crystals and floats gracefully through the air, landing gently on the surface of the water. Walking slowly, but meaningfully, it moves towards the great crystal. As it moves, it lowers it's hood to reveal the face of a young man. He smiles up at the creature above, his gray eyes reflecting the sky. "I've been awaiting your arrival with great anticipation." he whispers softly, "I've not faced one as powerful as you in a great while... I hope I can remember how."

He leaps upwards, his short dark brown hair ruffling as he cuts through the air. As he rises, he closes his eyes and focuses his spirit energy. He reaches the apex of his flight and snaps his arms downwards, out from his body. There is a brief flash and he lands lightly on the giant crystal, two wakizashi now grasped in his hands. He slides his feet into a combat stance, and readies his short blades, one high, one low. The right-hand wakizashi, Kokoro, is a deep blue, and the left, Karada, a dark red.

A wind blows from nowhere, causing his black robe to flutter. He shrugs, causing his robe to come loose, and the wind carries it away. Underneath, he is wearing a simple black kimono, complete with hakama. His eyes open, and for the first time, he sees his opponent up close. A brief flicker of doubt flashes across his eyes, as if he thinks 'What did I get myself into this time?', but he shakes it off. His smile returns, and he speaks again, louder this time. "You found me. It is as I expected." His voice has a deep quality to it, yet without being low, "Well then. Let us begin this."

He darts foward, faster than a normal human eye could track. Yet he knows his opponent isn't normal, nor human. Moreover, he knows that she doesn't need to see him to know where he is. He reaches her, and dodges to the right, bringing his right-hand dagger around, aiming directly for the back of her left shoulder. His left-hand dagger he keeps open, ready to defend, should a counter-attack come.

(ooc: I'm so rusty.)

[Deicide]

(OOC: Appologies in advance if the post seems a tad on the short side, didnt want to add anymore in lue of it coming of as GodModish..)

A brief blast of air, time seems to slow, toes pull slightly upwards and claws raise from the slick surface below, allowing it to do its work as rough black pads designed for the gripping of grassland dirt slip smoothly outwards, body lowering down substantially, before claws hit the crystal again with a soft 'tack', hips twisting and legs come back together to bunch in heavily muscled legs that provide a powerful upwards push. All this to bring a shineing arc sliceing through the frigid night air.

Of course, these events take but mere seconds to occur, to the outside observer it would be hard to catch as the canines legs split away and she plummets towards the cold crystal, regaining grip and twisting at the very last viable moment, raising again and pulling hindpaws in as that movement causes her to turn, a flash of silver as the blade comes round, hilt clasped in both hands, weilded as a traditional two-handed broadsword, her whole forms strength behind it, driveing towards the opponents middriff and throat with ruthless power, though the entire display is meant more to force the distance open than to do real damage. The pale furred angel knows she will not catch one of his speed with such a simple trick.

:..2-2-7..:

[Zephyr]

(OOC: Sorry about the delay, my teachers decided it was time to give us lots of assignments)

The world slows, and everything becomes perfectly clear. He sees, but without seeing, the blade coming at him. He sees it hitting, knows what to do to stop it... but doesn't know why he knows this, or how. What is this strange sensation...

A metallic clash resounds through the still air as the blade smashes into Dargarth's left-hand dagger. He gives a small grunt of pain as the power of the attack causes him to slide back several metres, opening up the distance between them. He shakes his head, trying to clear the strange vision from it. "What was that...?" he whispers to himself. Shaking his head a final time, he returns his focus to his opponent. His face appears to be completely calm, but his eyes are slightly wild, as if he was unsettled by what he saw.

'She has the larger weapon, thus is would be prudent to attack from a distance.' he muses, 'In that case...'

He crosses his daggers before him, letting his energy flow into them. A strange heat begins to emanate from them, and the air around them crackles with energy. He points the right-hand dagger at his opponent, and intones a single, rasping syllable. There is a small flicker, and a ball of flame bursts forth, surging through the air. It moves rapidly, but it seems the energy of the spell is struggling against the web of magic that holds it together. Dargarth concentrates more, struggling to keep the strange vision from breaking his focus. He appears to succeed, as the ball of flame stabilises and accelerates towards his opponent.

[Deicide]

The viscious clashing of metal upon metal rang around them, but it would seem power was in the angels favor, its all she can do not to smirk as the strange opponant is forced back, the distance more open now, far more to her likeing.

Returning to her defensive pose, white ears prick suddenly at the sound of a single harsh syllable, spoken in a tongue known to only a limited few, sleek muzzle snapping up green eyes percieve the burning vengence now accelerating towards them. Sword passing into her left hand and dropping to her side, Kassandra raises her right hand, so far its actually slightly behind that dark, matted hair. A snide snarl comes to those lips, sharp fangs bared in a baleful grin.

'Thou wouldst use the flame against me? Then shall I give thee a taste of Heavenly Fire!?'

And, indeed, a white flame is already gathering around the backwards thrust paw, forming an orb of solid light, surrounded by a burning mist of similar hue to the fallen angels own fur. In a graceful arc it follows her hand as she thrusts it fowards, effectivly hurling the celestial volley, the 'Holy Ball', straight at her opponents spell and him beyond it. Being of similar element, that heavenly wrath makes short work of the mere earthly flame, dispersing it on contact and hurtling on towards its hapless creator...

:..2-2-7..:

[Zephyr]

For a split second, Dargarth stares in shock as his attack is consumed by the ball of energy that flies towards him. Recovering quickly, he moves his hands in a strange motion, bringing the right hand up with his index and middle fingers pointing upwards and the rest closed into a fist. As his blades fall from his grasp, they seem to fade from existence. His left hand grasps his right wrist, and the right hand faces towards the oncoming ball of holy fire. The air around him begins to ripple and takes on a light blue glow.

The glow intensifies and begins to condense into a single point just in front of Dargarth's hand. There is a short flicker as the glow fades, leaving a semi-transparent blue disc hovering in front of Dargarth. The holy flame collides with the blue shield, and for the briefest of moments, it's momentum is stayed. Long enough, for Dargarth to leap out of it's path. The shield shatters, and the flame hurtles off into the distance.

'That... was way too close.' he thinks to himself, 'Perhaps... I should use... It.'

Saying nothing, Dargarth moves his right hand to his waist. Grasping something only he can see, he moves his right hand away, as if drawing a sword. As his arm completes it's arc, the form of a katana fades into existance. The blade is black, but is decorated with a thin silver inlay that depicts flowing water and the air around it ripples slightly as it moves though it. Dargarth looks at his opponent and smiles wryly. "This blade has never seen combat. I don't even know what it is capable of. Perhaps, we will find out."

Dargarth blurs, and suddenly appears in the air just behind his target, his katana moving at an impossible speed as it swings down at her head.

(OOC: I apologise for the lateness of this post, I've been a little under the weather.)

[Deicide]

Curseing under her breath, the wolven is already ducking to the side as he starts the attack, but this time she has less warning and it all Kassandra can do not to wince as the others black slashing down the edge of her ear and scores across the right cheek of that snow right cheek before the graceful creatures body completes its spin, the huge sword of Heavens forging riseing up to meet his own and prevent further damage.

It seems they are back where they began, except now two small trickles of blood trickle past eyes that seem to glow with hells own rage, not for damage done, but for pride injured. And angels take there pride quite seriously...

This will get us nowhere! He wants to fight with agility..

Glareing, she raises herself against the meeting blades with an ease calculated to agravate, before leaping backwards, into the air with reckless abandon. Those torn wings spouting bloodily from her back afresh and seeming to catch, to pull her higher, up in shear nothinginess. The she-wolf castes a baleful look downwards before 'letting go' of the air and plummeting, head over paws, form shifting as she becomes a white ball of undefined fur and light that hits the ice with a violent impact that raises clouds and forces cracks into the formerly perfect surface.
Looming, claws scrapping easy purchase on slick ice, the massive shadow comes hurtiling out from the ice shard cloud within mere seconds, huge fangs bared as powerful musles move smoothly under a pelt that blends in earily well with the current surroundings but for a few flecks of blood.. Now fully beast, the fallen acts accordingly, fully in control yet hurtling foward at breakneck pace and allowing savage growls to rip through the threatening maw.

:..2-2-7..:

[Zephyr]

Dargarth stands watching, frozen in awe at the transformation taking place. His blade hangs loosely in his hand, his mind too filled with fear to make his body move. 'Move dammit!' He mentally screams at his body, 'You've seen things like this before, why the hell do you choose NOW of all times to freeze up. MOVE!'. His hand grips the hilt of his blade tightly, but it's far too late to simply move out of the way, the huge maw too close to make that a safe option. He smiles regretfully, as he decides to go with the more dangerous option.

He turns to face the charge of his opponent, staring into the tooth-filled maw. He waits, and for a moment it seems as if he is just going to let himself be torn apart by it. Suddenly, he brings his blade around, holding it in front of him, his left hand gripping the narrow point, the right gripping the hilt, the sharp edge pointing skyward. As the deadly teeth approach, he grips the sword harder, the point biting into his left hand, blood running freely. But he doesn't seem to care, all his attention is focused on just one thing; getting the timing right. "NOW!" he yells. He shoves the blade forward, embuing it magic energies, and slams it into the air in front of the face of the beast, just as it's horrid maw begins to close on him. The energy within the blade rips outwards in a huge explosion of raw magic that tears through his body, throwing him free of the beast and tossing him into the air like a rag-doll. He floats there for an moment, before crashing down onto the crystal's surface.

He struggles to his feet, and pants deeply. His face is battered, and oozes blood from small cuts caused by the cyrstal as he landed. His left arm hangs limpy by his side, unresponsive to his commands. The explosion he had caused had been mostly directed at himself, to propel him away from danger, but he had not anticipated it's strength. He looks down at his blade, a strange look on his face. "She should not have been hurt much by that..." He says and then begins to mutter about his own stupidity, "Stupid fool, next time you try to blast your way out of trouble, try not directing it at yourself. Idiot." Ceasing his inane muttering, he looks up, trying to locate his enemy, only to find his eyes stinging with blood. Reaching up, he wipes them clean and looks again, only to find nothing. "Perhaps I went a little further than I thought..."

(OOC: Feel free to take advantage of the fact I have no idea where you are. And... if you feel my post needs changing in anyway... Please tell me. I'm not to sure I like how it turned out.)

[Deicide]

Its too damn close and she'll just have to risk it, jaw snapping shut, large head lowering, the wolven blunders into a headbutt with the oncoming energy, braceing her claws on the slick ice as it sends her and her opponent hurtling back from each other. Pushing her body, useing that substantial body weight to come to a complete halt, she quickly realises the opponent is now out of sight range and twitches an ear slightly in a guesture that could be read as annoyance while pawing at what may well be the beginings of a slight bruising on the otherwise to perfect snowy-white forehead. Still.. The move seemed more than a little desperate, and for that she cannot help but grin.

It is the work of a moment for that acute canine snout to work out the challengers position, and the huge ring of energy, plowing into the crystaline surface after the displacement caused by her thick head, has caused a decent covering of misty residue in the earily still night air. Moving slowly with a gentle, almost silent 'tak-taking' of hollow claws on solid surface, she circles around, trying to position herself behind him without his knowledge before tenseing on the ground, gearing up for another charge, this time with a whole hell of a lot less unneeded warning.

Indeed, she is just about to push off from the ice and begin a fresh offensive when she pauses, ears shooting up, tail kinking behind in a guesture of mild confusion while semi-bared fangs show obvious agitation. She holds the pose for a moment, not bothering to take note as to wether she has been spotted or not, muttering under her breath, seemingly locked an argument with a voice only she can hear..

'But I have him right where I want him! Well.. Yes.. I would be in Draconic form and done with this by now if that wasn't the case but still! Okay fine..'

There is a sharp burst of light, standing up on two legs again, as tail twitches behind her in overt agitation, the wolf does her best to appear impassive and aloof before finally speaking in a clear voice to her opponent, who she can only assume must be at least a little confused by now.

'It would appear this trial draws to an end. A shame.. I always knew there where restrictions yet it was interesting' a gentle sigh, 'but, nevertheless, my Master calls and I must answer.'

She grins wryly and bobs a curt bow, before pushing off the transparent plane one last time, allowing herself to fall from it, hair flowing upwards and obscuring her expression before another brilliant flash of purest white light takes her out of that existance altogether, leaving nothing but an echo behind her.

'...It shall be my Masters place to say what must happen next...'

:..2-2-7..:

[Zephyr]

Dargarths stands silent, waiting for any indication of his opponents location. From behind, a low muttering reaches his ears. He turns around, and looks at the wolven form in confusion, 'What does she mean by that?' he thinks, a puzzled look on his face. He blinks as the wolf reverts to it's humanoid form in a bright flash of light.

'It would appear this trial draws to an end. A shame.. I always knew there where restrictions yet it was interesting' a gentle sigh, 'but, nevertheless, my Master calls and I must answer.'

Dargarth smiles slightly, and bows deeply. "T'was an honour to have you as an opponent, even if this was just a test. Thank you."

As his opponent vanishes, Dargarth moves over to a nearby outcrop of cyrstal and leans against it, his right arm still holding his left. "I guess here is as good a place as any to wait. I do hope the reply is in my favour, but... I can't help feeling like I've met her before...". Sighing, Dargarth closes his eyes and tries to remember, but mostly he waits.

[Anomaly]

High above, a ripple spreads throughout the heavens, distorting the appearance of moons and clouds. With a dull, silent resonation, the crystals grow still in their dance. There is a cracking noise, followed by a particularly multifaceted chunk of crystal rising slowly from the monolith which Dargarth leans against. Slowly, a long, gray, whip-like tail extends from the top of the crystal. At the very end, perched like a jewel, is an eye composed of what appears to be a luminous crystal ball.

The eye of perspective shifts, the heavens becoming a sea, far below, and the sea a vast expanse of sky. The crystals are now easily discerned as nothing more than a few motes that occupy an orbit around the glaring trinity of moons. The illusion ripped away, the crystal no longer ascends, but descends slowly behind the upside down figure of Dargarth. As the crystal melts away from its comrades, what appears to be a large, gray scaled torso can be seen jutting from the pulsing stones. The body is smooth, elegant, vaguely humanoid but almost entirely alien.

As the scene expands, gray runes flash, blearily at first, then with increasing tensity, until a network of strange words and sigals spread across the beings body. The decent comes to a halt as the figure opens his eyes. The first to open are the pair that make up each shoulder...the left a large crimson, the right a putrid mixture of yellow and green. The next set to open are the three that dominate an otherwise featureless face. The right eye is black as the abyss, the left white as heavens light, and the central eye embedded in the forehead opens with a pulse of swirling gray motes. The last eye to open is the one that dominates the chest, splitting it wide open as an eye opens black as the depths of space, a single star glimmering in its depth. It is this star that swivels and expands, then collapses, focusing on Dargath.

It is then, with the mental equivalent of a sigh, that the figure spreads his appendages. First to appear are the three halos behind the figures head... again a series of white, black, and gray. These are set in stark contrast against a series of endlessly spinning wings. They appear at first as angels wings, then seem to become the wings of a dragon only long enough to change again into the sullen, black wings of the fallen. Indeed it is three wings of each, nine in total, stretching and tumbling for the first time in ages.

For all their constant motion, the tenth wing that occupies the figures left arm is surprisingly motionless. Bones stretch out from the arm like those of a bat or demon, but between the frail looking bone, instead of webbing there are monochrome feathered wings...starting with a white purer than driven snow and fading through smoke into a darkness that waters the eyes. The right arm looks disturbingly human, yet a strange, pulsing aura sheaths it in obscurity. With a soft sound like the dying of worlds, a cold, almost translucent blade of energy extends from the right arm. It is with this, the appearance of Oketsu, the spirit that reaps the cosmos itself, that the identity of this being is finally revealed. This is Anomaly...the Absolute Anomaly...the Anomalist in his truest form...the endlessly swirling vortex of wings marking his former position as a dispenser of judgment.

It would seem he has chosen this form to hand down a judgment yet again. In a voice that enters the mind via the gaping pupils of the eyes rather than the ears, he speaks in tones of light and shades of darkness.

"Time...it spreads infinitely before and behind. So too above, below, to either side, and through us. A tumultuous sea, ever in motion, slipping away so swiftly there is the illusion that it is placid as stained glass. Drop a stone into this ceaseless stream and you will see no ripple marking the place where it is swallowed up by time. It devours the future, destroys the present, and leaves behind only the shattered, fading past. Yet it is possible for some stones to cause tidal waves of possibility that reach from the shore of the advent to the sprawling trench of oblivion. You have proven that you may bea Pillar of such stone. We shall not leave what we have begun unfinished. It is time for us to set our mark upon you."

There is a dull silence, the cessation of sound, replaced only by the roar of seconds sleeting through reality like snow sizzling above the licking flames of hell. The cosmic reaver extends, crackling, and with its spiritually thin edge, etches the emblem of Eternity upon Dargarths forehead. The mark quickly fades into the flesh, yet suddenly the world is changed. A rush of maddened sound echos and reverberates from the crystals as they, the sea, and even the very sky reflect a chaotic mixture of images. Yet the do not seem to be completely unbound, merely...unsealed.

"We have come full Circle...Streamer."

OOC: (Welcome to The Masters)