Blasbo
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Posts posted by Blasbo
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It's over. She would have liked to get a few blows in herself, but...since the one who was mainly wronged by him got her licks in, she doesn't mind it so much. After all, if they were to fight the bastard who ordered her father killed and she didn't so much as get a swing at him, she'd be very, very upset. And...at the very least, they managed to save everyone they could. It's only a pity they couldn't avoid killing the ones they did...
"...It's probably not my place to decide if he lives or dies. And personally, if he dropped dead right here I wouldn't care--might give his corpse a kick in the ribs, but I certainly wouldn't feel bad. If we decide to keep him alive as a hostage, or to stand trial, then I won't have much quarrel with it...so long as he faces some consequences, of course. If the latter, then perhaps he should have a jury of women; if he's such the charmer he believes himself then there's no problem, is there?"
She pauses a moment before continuing. "...I don't really know what the right thing to do here is, between taking him hostage or not. I just don't want him to be able to go on like nothing fucking happened."
She turns her gaze to the Killing Edge he'd tried to draw on them, staring at it a bit wistfully--it's a fine blade, not her own but one that speaks to her nonetheless, and she takes a few moments before speaking again. "...I would like that sword, though. That's a nice sword. It's not like we're going to let him keep it, is it?"
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...Whoof. She probably should have expected escape from the underworld to be a little challenging, but...still, this really freaking hurt.
She's honestly more concerned about how Mercia's doing, but...it looks like her sister's up and at 'em right now, at least. Though from the looks of it, just barely...kind of like her, really.
"Mercia! You should drink your vulnerary!", she calls out before advancing and doing the same.
Owena to J7, drink her Vulnerary. slurp
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Reiko hadn't much felt the need to interject so far...she knew nothing about nations beyond Ria, after all, so it likely was something better handled by people who did. Seeing this disgusting man parade around with women that he clearly doesn't see as anything more than arm candy, acting like he's somehow above them...and then, to learn that he's protecting another who could be considered scum of the earth? She's already not in the best mood due to that smug-ass cavalier from earlier, and this doesn't help that at all. That's just fine, though--at the moment, she doesn't really want to be calm.
"Why don't you just shut your damn mouth and step out from behind those poor girls so we can take your fucking kneecaps, you shithead?"
Reiko walks forward to F-7, but [MENACING]ly.
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Tch. The nerve of that Aristotle prick...it looks like they've got bigger problems at the moment, though. There's no doubt that she hates his guts, but she's not about to jeopardize their escape by doing anything stupid.
For now, it's likely best to do what she can to take care of those Revenants before they become a real issue. She flies over to perform a drive-by axe swing at the Revenant before flying back to a safer position.
Owena to E11, smack the Revenant, Canto to H11.
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She lets out a small sigh as she's healed and the pain melts away. There's still some aches there, but...it'll probably be fine. The important thing is, she's fine enough to do something risky...something like go after that Cavalier over there that just took down Cecily. He's gonna have to answer for that.
"Hey, dipshit!"
Waltz on over to K-15 and sword that hecking Cavalier C.
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...Her family does its best work in their darkest hours, but she also figures she should probably be a little smarter about it than charging in all pissed off and yelling. Even if she is kind of tempted to do so.
She moves forward, but it's more of a safe distance.
Reiko to H13.
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Reina blinks in both surprise and confusion, pulling back as someone in a hood starts yelling about 'dark magics'--before clutching her head as that migraine of hers starts to flare up again. Is this person okay? Are they one of those people who hunt down the cults springing up everywhere? She's certain she must be mistaken, though; she's not involved in any of those. ...So far as she remembers, anyways.
"I-I--sorry, I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about? I can't speak for our host, but I'm just a dancer...and please, quiet down, my head is killing me..."
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"Tch, son of a--!" Owena winces as the first blow hits her, only barely managing to dodge the second hit--Mercia doesn't need to see her go down again. Not so soon after their reunion. Had she gotten rusty since her death...? It must be something like that; that, or the enemies they were facing were somehow stronger than the beasts of the Predatory Tropics, and she didn't much like to entertain that thought. She blinks in surprise as her opponent...compliments her. Are...they trying to take her back, or not? Their leader did say this was something more like a test than anything else... "Um...thanks...?"
Still, that doesn't seem to mean they're holding much of anything back. She winces in pain, holding her wounds from the wisp--and blinks again as the burns seem to fade away. Hm...healing magic, huh? She turns towards the succubus, who by all accounts seems to be doing the healing, and turns just a little bit red. "T-thanks."
She doesn't particularly want to break the formation at the moment, at least in any way that allows their enemies to hurt her sister--so, it looks like the Fiend right next to her is next in line for her axe.
Owena whacks Fiend A.
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Reina wakes up to a pounding headache, rubbing her forehead and groaning in pain. Oddly enough, the...idea of her having a headache in the first place doesn't seem that odd--it's just the idea of it being in two places instead of just the back of her head that is unfamiliar to her. The sound of everyone's voices around her seem to only worsen that headache, leaving her clutching her skull in pain, and it just keeps building and building until...
"ᏁᎶᏝᏬ'Ꭵ ᎷᎧᎶ'ᏒᎧᏖᏂ ᏗᎶᏒᏗᏂᏁᏝᏒ ᏕᎧᏁ-ᏕᎧᏰᏰᎧᏖᏂ." A strange black fluid leaks from one eye as its sclera turns the same shade of black, and she seems to not entirely be conscious of her own speaking in tongues in the first place. That much seems to be enough to ease her headache, and the black fluid quickly recedes into her eye as it returns to normal.
"...Mm...I hate this migraine...um, anyways. I'm Reina...Reina Blackwood. Mister...Goretti, right? What kind of destiny are you talking about?" She'd take his soup, it did look good, but...her migraine flaring up like that didn't exactly do wonders for her appetite.
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"....Tch. Shithead." She gives a swift, light kick to the Ascetic's body. "...Appreciated, Phoenix."
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Owena takes a moment to fly forwards a little--act as the vanguard, and all. From the looks of it, they've got people here who aren't exactly good for close combat.
"Yeah, you get me. Anyone who decides to be a slaver's got a reckoning coming when the slaves decide they've had enough--that much goes for gods, too."
Owena moves to G10, is menacing at the skellybois.
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Fucking ow. Ow. All right, the pain is kinda clearing things up for her now--but it's also pissing her off. So, that's how it is, huh?
"Oh, that's it, huh? I'm trying to be nice here, but if that's how we're playing this? Okay, then; fuck you!"
She'd take another swing if she hadn't just spent her actions. What a shame.
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More coming, then. ...It seems none of them are going to take their chance to leave, then. She'd had a feeling with the first wave, but she figured at this point it was likely to become a pattern. ...Well, they couldn't say she hadn't given them their chance, then.
As the enemy makes their feeble attempts at hurting Ferdiad (the man's built like a brick shithouse, she notes to herself), she advances forwards. The cavaliers don't seem to be a fight that she can win here, so...it would seem that her next target would be the aescetics. ...Pity, that.
"Apologies."
Reiko to I14, strike at Aescetic B. Just business pal
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It felt....very, very good to no longer be in chains. She was never meant to be in them in the first place, after all--and if she had anything to say about it, she'd never be in them again. The axe, similarly, felt familiar in her hand, its weight and grip somewhat comforting in a way. Yeah...this was her stuff, all right.
Of course, the fact that they'll end up facing the actual Minotaur of legend (though she'd always preferred Asterios herself) did prove...a little daunting of a task. Hopefully her combat skills hadn't rusted too badly...she had a feeling she'd need them soon enough. It would be much more convenient if she had--
Ah...speak of the devil. A wyvern's cry accompanied the birdsong, one as familiar to Owena as the phoenix was to Mercia, and she couldn't hide the smile finding its way onto her face as Atreus made his way to her side. She gave him a gentle pat on the neck before climbing up onto his back again.
"Right in the thick of it again, eh, old friend?"
It seemed Mercia wanted to break that crystal, and...eh, it was probably fine, right? She didn't know what v-o-l-a-t-i-l-e spelled, but she did want to break their shit on the way out for doing this to them. Let them know there would be consequences.
"I say go for it. Nothing to lose but our chains--" Wait. Wait, hold on. Someone did know what v-o-l-a-t-i-l-e spelled. And what it meant. Hm. "Um, actually. I'll leave the planning to you guys on that one."
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"ᏂᏗᏁᏖᏂᏒᏝᏝ'ᎶᏁ ᎷᏁ'ᎶᏁᎥᏬ ᎦᏖᏂᏗᎶᏁ ᎦᏖᏂᏗᎶᏁ...hm? N-No...I'm sure I didn't say anything..."
SpoilerName: Reina Blackwood
Class: Dancer -> BishopClass Skill:
Siege Experience [Ballistician] (Can operate Ballistae of a rank equal to their highest Bow Rank.)
Unnatural Reflexes [Overwatch] (Instead of attacking, can choose to automatically attack the first enemy to get in their range next enemy phase.)/Promoted Class Skill:
Unknowable Horror [Daunt] (Obtains Daunt character skill on promotion.)
The Shadows That Hate [Element of Surprise] (When stepping onto concealed terrain that takes 2 MOV, they are hidden from sight until making an attack, stepping out of the terrain, or if the enemy stops on an adjacent tile. Attacking while hidden from sight prevents counterattacks.)Character Skill: Wrath (While HP is at 30% maximum or less, gain a +30 bonus to Crit.)
Affinity: Sunrise (+0.5 DR, +2.5 Hit, +5 Eva)Personal Flaw: Migraine (After every battle, Reina loses 2 HP.)
Personal Skill: Magic Absorption (If Reina is above 50% HP, +2 RES.)
/Personal Skill: Forbidden Energies (If an enemy that triggers Overwatch has a lower MAG than Reina, add +2 DMG.)
//Personal Skill: Eldritch Malice (If Reina doubles an enemy while under the effects of The Shadows That Hate, she gains +10 Crit.)Preferred Stats:
Weapon Proficiency: Anima (D), Bow (D) -> Greatbow (A), Bow (C), Slashing (C), Sword (D), Anima (D)Level: 1
Total Level: 1
Progression Spent: 330/330Initial Stats:
HP: 18 ( 50% )
STR: 4 ( 60% )
MAG: 2 ( 50% )
SKL: 3 ( 60% ) (+2)
LUK: 6 ( 10% )
DEF: 2 ( 20% )
RES: 3 ( 20% )
SPD: 7 ( 60% )MOV: 5
CON: 4 (+2)
AID: 3Rerolled: Promoted Class Proficiency (Original: Bounty Hunter)
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Well...what the hell? She figures she can get another go at someone in.
Reiko to K17, Marth/Lucina Noise Fighter B.
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....Hrm. It seems she'll have to tell everyone that healing and vulneraries are better used on others at some point. But...it's kind of a moot point right now. No sense in reprimanding someone else's kindness when they've got this kind of a fight ahead of them.
Reiko steps fowards, over the collapsed body of the Fencer, and aims her strike directly at the Scholar.
"Doriyah--!"
I17, Doriyah the Scholar.
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It's clear that the two of them have a lot to talk about. She's been grieving, and no doubt beating herself up about what happened, and Owena wants nothing more than to ease that pain. Yes, she would have liked to not die if possible, but the fact is that it wouldn't have happened if Athena or Ares could get their head out of their asses and admit a loss--that combined with how her behavior in their dying moments told her loud and clear it wasn't an intentional thing meant to Owena that those two gods are more to blame than any of them. Not just for their tragedy, but for any tragedy that occurred in the long, senseless war. If there's someone Owena should be wanting to get back at, it's them.
But, it seems from the fact that the door's just been kicked down, that talk's going to have to wait. Yeah...that's him. The weird kid who'd chatted her up about escape. Looks like he was serious about it then. She can't suppress a scoff at Aristotle's eagerness to leave--oh, what, was slavery not suiting him? Surely he deserved it for being weaker than the gods?--and she is slightly annoyed at the interruption, but apart from that she's got no qualms with the general idea of it. She's had enough of this place for an afterlife.
"...Yeah. I'm in with this. This war's a travesty that never should have gone on this long, and I'd like to end it if possible. Also..." She turns back to Mercia. "I think the both of us had our fill of slavery long ago, don't you?"
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Owena glances around the room they're currently held in for their break--well, it's a change of scene, at least. For what that's worth when she's still in shackles. Again. She can't help but feel it's some sort of insult from the gods that she's down here like this, in a state she swore she'd never be in again. If that kid she was talking to was just pulling her chain, she's going to kick his ass the next chance she gets; it may incur some punishment but what're they gonna do? Kill her?
Another presence catches her eye, and...oh, man. She'd hoped they didn't have her down here, too. She doesn't even really know what to say at first--if only the Fates hadn't been so damned cruel to let her die without voicing her forgiveness. She should probably at least say something, though.
She turns her head to face Mercia, her expression somewhat saddened. "...I'd hoped you'd somehow escaped this fate too. The gods really are cruel, aren't they?"
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Spoiler
"Tartarus brings back too many memories of Sparta's worst indulgences. If you're busting out, then count me in."
SpoilerName: Owena Erwood
Gender: Female
Age: 56 (52 at death)Class: Rider Trainee -> Wyvern Rider -> Malig Knight
Character Skill: DauntBlessing: Astraea
Main Affinity: (Leave Blank)
Sub Affinity: (Leave Blank)Personal Fault: Tender Heart (If Owena is fighting an enemy wielding Light Magic, -2 to damage dealt.)
/Personal Skill: Toughened Scales (If Owena is above 50% HP, +2 DEF.)
//Personal Skill: Menacing Presence (If Owena is within three spaces of three or more enemies, +10 Hit/Evasion.)
//Personal Skill: Collateral Damage (If Owena defeats the enemy she attacks, +5 to Savage Blow proc chance)
Preferred Stats: Skill, Speed
Weapon Profs: Axe (E)
Chosen Initial Weapon: Iron Axe-Initial Stats
Level: 1
Total Level: 1Progression Spent: (330%/330%)
HP: 18 (40%)
STR: 4 (60%)
MAG: 0(+2) (50%)
SKL: 4 (60%)
LCK: 2 (10%)
DEF: 3 (50%)
RES: 1(+2) (40%)
SPD: 3 (20%)CON: 5
AID: 4
MOV: 4Biography: Life is hard in Sparta for a Dragonborn, and harder for a slave. Thus, for a Dragonborn born into slavery such as Owena, life was the sort of challenge that others might find difficult to shoulder--especially with the cruel sort of master they had the misfortune to be born under. Indeed, there are only a few reasons that it was any sort of bearable at all; her loving parents, and her twin sister Mercia. As different as the two were in many ways, the bonds of family between them were as strong as anything, and they cared for each other immensely.
Owena was the one more cut out between the two for the kind of physical labor a slave generally gets assigned, and indeed she was the sort more inclined towards regular exercise--not that it endeared her any more to the slave labor given to her. More, it simply made daily life that much easier on her than it was for Mercia...when it wasn't housework, that is. It turns out, she wasn't particularly the best person for that kind of job. The two of them learned to play to each other's strengths whenever possible; for Owena, that meant training her body when allowed a spare moment, so that she might bear a little more of her sister's share of the physical labor, and fend off any who might look to take advantage of Mercia's less-than-stellar physical capabilities to force their cruelties upon her.
And so it went until they reached the age of thirty--the age when the two of them had become just about fed up with slavery. The two of them challenged their master in order to earn their freedom, and in his hubris he accepted the challenge...and, hoping to stack the deck against them, set a physical challenge for Mercia and a magical one for Owena. As is the case for so many in Greece, however, his hubris proved to be his downfall; the two of them worked with each other around the clock to strengthen these weaker areas to an area their master had not anticipated. In the end, the two of them won their freedom--and it took a lot of self-control for Owena not to beat the tar out of their former master afterwards.
This, however, was where the sisters' partnership would come to a close; while Owena intended to stay in Sparta and, through grit and might, work herself to the top so she might abolish the practice that had caused so much pain, Mercia had a different plan. It was understandable; Sparta was not the Greek nation most well-known for the study of her magics, and she could never blame her for not wanting to stay in a homeland that had mistreated her so. With that in mind, the two came to an understanding, and parted on good terms with one promise--that they would meet again someday.
While Mercia was creating the beginnings of her legend within the Swamp of the Damned and Athens, Owena was getting a head start on establishing her own; now that she was freed, she found work somewhat hard to come by, a situation she suspected might have been worsened by a certain slaver's connections. The most appealing avenue to her quickly became work as a member of a hunting party, tasked with collecting rare monster parts from the Predatory Tropics, and so that's where she settled.
The ensuing hunt was nearly a total wipe, with the quarry ending up being well over the party's heads. One by one, her fellow hunters fell to the creatures' claws, until she was the only one left. Even she doesn't entirely remember what she did at that point, her actions as fueled by raw fear and adrenaline as they were--but by the time it was over, she alone stood near the corpses of her fellows and the slain monster. Owena retrieved the monster parts and recieved a higher pay from their sale due to less hands to split them between, but the experience affected her deeply. There still weren't many jobs for her to choose from, but from that day she refused to go on hunts with anyone else--that way, no one else would die like that on her watch.
Miraculously, through grit and might along with the magical arts her sister had taught her so long ago, she went on solo hunt after solo hunt without fail, returning from each with less wounds than the previous. Her reputation spread through Sparta as the Huntress, a Dragonborn woman in a green cloak who could hunt the most dangerous monsters the Predatory Tropics had to offer all on her lonesome with nary a scratch to show for it. Naturally, this meant her advancement through Spartan society, hard and grueling as it was, as well as a good supply of coin from the monster parts she didn't keep as reminders of the hunt.
Upon a trip to the more northern regions of the Veteran Bluffs to deliver her cargo, she came across a slaver and what appeared to be a recently-hatched wyvern. The man was cruel to the wyvern, yelling
obscenities at it and whipping and beating it when it did not obey him, and it took Owena no longer than a few minutes of observation to know that this could no longer stand. On the spot, she challenged him to a duel for custody of the young wyvern. Foolishly, the man accepted, and...well, for a woman who had faced among the worst the Predatory Tropics had to offer, he was little challenge at all.
Owena cared for and nurtured the wyvern, dubbed 'Atreus', patiently staying with it until it was no longer afraid of her presence, making sure he had all he needed to grow strong and healthy. And, when he insisted on accompanying her on hunts, she found it to be a potent force multiplier--between the two of them, there wasn't a monster that had a hope of standing in their way.
Through all this, and through the war raging on, she didn't pay much attention to the current ruler of Sparta--she knew they had an interest in the current institution of slavery, so she knew she would have to either change their mind or supplant them somehow anyways. Upon Rosanne's ascension to the throne, however, word drifted to her ears of a girl who wanted change, a girl who wanted to stop the status quo of the strong trampling the weak. This girl on the throne, however, needed an end to the war against Athens for that to happen.
Owena had long felt disdain for the war between Athens and Sparta, viewing it as an unjust conflict drawn out by two gods who could not stand to see their egos bruised before the mortals, but this news was the sort of convincing that she needed to join the fray. She quickly came into her own as the feared Spartan Huntress; the Athenian soldiers who faced them, even those armed with bows, fared little better than the monsters from the Tropics against her, and tales spread of her cleaving through an entire batallion with one swing of her axe. Those who thought to wall her out with armor found themselves merely useful conductors for the destructive magics she'd honed throughout the years.
Such a capable fighter was bound to have a target painted on her head, though--and such was the case during her last battle. Perhaps she had gotten overconfident or sloppy, that she had failed to notice the archer riding the phoenix aiming right at her; whatever the case, though, she failed to notice until the arrow had struck true in her heart. As she turned around to look at her attacker, hood falling away from her face, she recognized the horrified face staring back at her as belonging to her kin.
She fell to the earth below, sustaining further injuries on impact, and as Atreus roared in fury and began to rampage through the armies below Owena could hear another impact and sickening crack. Turning her head, she saw her sister crawling towards us, felt the slight tingling of a feeble attempt at healing magic, and knew at that moment she didn't mean it. She knew her time was soon upon her, and wanted at least to give Mercia peace at the end. She raised a hand towards her, opened her mouth to tell her, "I forgive you..."
And then, before any words passed her lips, the last of her life left her.
Atreus, meanwhile, faithful to the end, rampaged through the Athenian ranks and caused as much damage as he could before sustaining fatal injuries, and managed to move back to his Dragonborn companion's side before he passed on to Tartarus with her.
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Reiko had planned on following the general plan of trying to sneak their way through to the goal; if this were her homeland's castle, it would be a different story, but as it was, there was very little reason to hold much of a grudge against the rank and file guards here. In a country with so little, it's likely enough they took their positions in hopes of alleviating such poverty. If they came across the king, though, well...that might be a coin-toss.
That didn't seem to be in the cards at the moment, though--as Kane's quick sitrep let them know, there didn't seem to be much hope of avoiding a fight. That was...fine. That was fine. If they wanted to avoid her blade then they'd have one chance to do so.
Making sure her mask is secure on her face, she steps out from their hiding place and readies her sword, getting herself in a suitable stance to dodge any incoming fire.
"If you value your life then you may leave and tell no one you saw us. Otherwise, it won't be pleasant."
It probably won't work, but shit, it's worth a shot.
Reiko to I-18, activate Leaf on the Wind.
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Reiko is silent for the most part...although, that's mostly because she doesn't have much to say. She doesn't know how comfortable she is with a break, with the knowledge that King Ruslan is sitting comfortable in his castle with his stolen property, the sword he obtained over her father's corpse--but she's not dense. She knows that even if she would rather press on, preferably straight to the King's doorstep, that's not a commonly shared opinion among the group. They need rest. And...things will go smoother with them around to help her.
"....Ulux. I haven't heard much of it--mine was a more rustic upbringing. I know its defining trait, though, is its poverty." She pauses for a few more seconds. "A wise man once told me poverty itself isn't a sin--or, I guess, that the poor themselves have done no wrong in being such. If there's any evil in poverty, it lies in the men who keep whatever wealth there is all to themselves, and in so doing cause the poverty of everyone else."
Maybe it's a bit philosophical for small talk, but it'll do.
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There's a lot going through her mind right now, as she stares quietly off into the distance. After that whole debacle, not many of those things are good things. If she couldn't stop any of that from happening, what good is she, exactly? She's got lofty goals, all right--but it doesn't look like they're goals that are going to get anywhere if she keeps giving these sorts of performances.
Pathetic.
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Hrm...leaving so soon, then? She'd be fairly fine with pursuing War, just to make it clear they wouldn't escape so easily, but it was apparently the decision that Death was higher up on the priorities list than her.
"...Tch." ...Whatever.
Reiko to L16, hold.
Fire Emblem On Forums: Mortal Transgressions (IC)
in General
Posted
"Oh, is that so? Tell me, if I whack you in the back of the head with the hilt of my sword right now and take it from you then who's going to stop me? I wonder, will the Devil himself rise to your defense?" A hand goes towards her sword--she doesn't intend to cut him down, of course, but she wouldn't suggest that if she wasn't willing to follow up on it. He's being awfully mouthy for someone in his position...though, to be honest, she can't say she might not be just as defiant in a similar position. That's just who she is. "'Cause I fucking doubt he can be bothered for your scummy ass."