P Red Moon Rising

[Char]

Falke Station - 9.2ly North of Kalis

Lightyears away from the nearest bastions of civilization was an insignifigant speck of a rouge planet drifting about on the very fringes of civilized space. Little more than a waystation of miners and prospectors it carried a half hundred names by the various companies and guilds that constantly warred over the pittance of unclaimed and untaxed resources.

Most just called it 'The pit' for the never-ending hole of money and resources those who had a claim on it kept pouring into it; Lives, ships, money, soldiers, men - All wasted more than the ugly brown eyesore was worth over pure spite of so many refusing to cut their losses as they claim jumped and fought and murdered each other for nothing but greed.

Overlooking this planet was a small fleet of tenders and ships always scuttling from the planet to orbit to deliver or make off with something. And errected in the mass of derelicts and scrap hulks of vessels was an ugly rhombus dwarfing them all in the form of 'Falke Station'.

Originally a massive barge the massive JSS-Falke was a logistical mess too bloated to efficiently make it out of system, but just right to loiter in orbit. After being taken and lost numerous times and bolted together with other ships to repair it the eyesore of a freighter now thrice its size and barely able to stay in stable orbit became a permenant fixture over the pit and over time the only nuetral ground between the many factions, nations, and groups constantly fighting over it.

While warships occasionally brawled on the far side of the pit from Falke Station the more traditional tenders, haulers, freighters, and transports loited like flies around Falke while their crews rested or hired on after their contracts ended, or just tried to sell their wares or services on Falke. The station had become a true-nuetral ground for everyone in the system and over time even developed its own micro-security force, trading guilds, and services.

It was here that the 'Sadistic Spriggan' weaved about around derelict transports and obtrusive vessels towards Falke Station. The Spriggan; A former slaving and smuggling ship was likely the most expensive and high-tech piece of equipment in the entire system from its hidden armaments to the ships arrays and enchantments it could likely hold its own against any three warships in the system regardless of their size of class and still have the teeth to fight its way out of the system and then some.

More than a few in its path recognized this and made their way out of its path, while others followed in its wake too curious as to the corvettes' pressence and too greedy to not loiter.

A few warning flashes of the Spriggans arrays and the flies quickly found other ships to bother as it approached the station and began searching for a berth to bullky some unlucky freighter twice its size away from.

As it came about in the sheltered berth and shields shimmered dantily into life the refracted light exposed the Therewoods personal sigil and mark on the ships prow; An unforgeable magical circle belonging to that clan and them alone and a magical signature traceable only to them.

Inside its cockpit two forms were intimately intwined in the pilot and gunners cuppola as Tomoe Therewood stretched against her identicle twin and partner as she awoke from her nap, her head resting against her androdginous twins lap as he too shook his half-asleep leg in the flying hammok. With reluctance the two distangled themselves and began stripping from their flight suits and into matching attire that leaned more towards the feminine side but kept their adroginous nature of their genders circumspect.

When they were finished the two did their own basic hygine routines and retreieved their personal sets of gear and equipment and started off towards the only door into the cockpit.

When they passed through the threshold and by some unspoken and magical trigger nobody but the two twins understood their postures, mannerisms, and even expressions and suttle parts of the way they carried themselves simply swapped as Tomoe became Komoe and Komoe became Tomoe.

"Over a week of travel!" now Tomoe complained, 'her' voice rising in octave until it was a cradcking high-pitched soprano, perfect as she continued to stretch and pop air pockets in joints while subtlely bumping her partners shoulder.

"We had to be cautious, you know why, Tomoe." now Komoe admonished, 'his' voice lowering until it was a dry and sultry, bored and tired despite the fact that just moments ago 'he' had been 'her' and she had been asleep for the past six hours. They kept up their usual routine until they made it into the general wardroom where their passengers awaited. The two ignored them as Tomoe made a bee-line straight towards the coffee while Komoe simply joined the others at the couch and sat in their usual silent and unnaproachable self.

Within moment Tomoe slid alongside him, practically shoving the mug of green-black liquid into his hands as the two appraised their passengers in their own ways.

Slightly aside of them Sparrow Therewood sat as rigid as ever, glaring affectionately at the twins as she fiddled her fingers in her lap absently. The young but well and fit Nekomata was wearing her usual black cheongsam that sat as she was exposed a dangerous amount of her her legs up to her 'absolute territory' before the cut left enough at the well toned thighs and hips to leave little to the imagination while the sleaveless dress exposed enough neckline and her bare and slightly scarred arms at the shoulder that despite the young womans social inneptitude she was enough of a knockout like the rest of her family that made up for her social awkwardness.

In a long several days of 'are we there yet' the cat in her early twenties flicked her ears in clear agitation and excitement and while it looked from the set of her shoulders bobbing up and down that she was almost seething from the deadpan look on her face she was infact just excited.

Sparrow opened her mouth to say something before being cut off by Tomoe who began animatedly chattering about the mundane before the youing dvati twin seemed to finally find the mental acuity to adress another of their passengers on the ship.

"So, 'Tako', how much you paying us again when we find that magical mc'guffin you been going on about for how long now?" The seemingly young girl pestered for the seventh time in their week long journey out of their way from Eselberg station to what was widely unclaimed space. The twins, mostly the more reliable Komoe had assured the demon of the reliability of one of their contacts here despite the ageless demon not even knowing Falke Station or the pits existance and while Tomoe might be pure chaos in mortal form the other twin was signifigantly more reliable.

"What was it called; How do you even pronounce it again?" She offered a mischevious smile seemingly reserved for him that had a way of digging under the skin.

It was hell. A week of pure hell. Tarkus pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. "You know what it's called. This is the third time today I've had to pronounce it for you." The cranky doctor replied. He was already dressed in an immaculate black and silver suit.

Behind him, his sisters Lotara and Verena frowned at him. "Tarkus, remember what I said before the trip started?" Verena reminded. When Tarkus had informed them of his trip to find the artifact, they both insisted on coming to help. After a tense back and forth the sisters got their way. Both of the angels were still dressed in loose fitting pajamas. Lotara’s light blond hair in a ponytail tail, and Verena's silver hair in a bun.

Verena smiled sweetly, "You're supposed to be nice on this trip." Lotara just snickered to herself, enjoying her little brother's annoyance.

Tarkus made an annoyed growl and book popped into his hand out of thin air. "The 'magical mc'guffin' is called the Siren's Heart. It's a necklace." The demon replied for what felt like the umpteenth time.

The ribbing had gone on for the entire time of their flight in different ways for the daemon all throughout the trip. The twins constantly harassing or provoking him while always sucking up to his sisters like they were innocent, his own kin enabling the two mischevious dvati while being unable to see them as the annoying brats they were. The seeming innocent to some but obviously scandalous glances the two would give Lotara and Verena when only Tarkus was watching and their overtly sexual harassment at times could be tollerable.

But all that topped by Sparrows often simple worldview in taking their side with how easily the two could influence her to brow-beat the daemon and the domineering female attitude despite the fact that Tarkus could literally sense that one of the twins despite their play on pretending to be otherwise when swapping their identities was at least biologically male made the torment and innuendo and comments all the more confusing and frustrating.

"An' he says its called the 'Siren's Heart!" Tomoe continued as she, now literally between his sisters with a hand around each one as she none too quietly whispered to them.

"It is likely called by a different name in Cthonian." Komoe nodded, 'his' tone and askew glance daring the demon into a trap when he would recite something in another languadge, trigger the two twins into some kind of fit, and get admonished by his two sisters and Sparrow for his carelessness towards their faked trauma.

"Men should abscond with wearing feminine jewlery." Sparrow nodded, clearly not understanding what that word 'abscond' meant but getting sympathetic nods and jeers from the others in acknowledgement.

With their time quickly spent even the twins sobered up and in due time the group was slowly decending from the bottom of the ship via its elevator. The small berthing hangar they found themselves in was rusty, filthy, and more than a few rattling or torn up pannels on the floor and wall gave the first impression of the interior of the station matching the outside. The halls and cooridors and even the elevator deeper in did little to help its image nor did its inhabitants when on multiple occasions either Sparrow or Tarkus had to dispatch one or more interlopers who accosted their group.

Casual muggers, mercenaries looking for shakedowns, a few too-interested people in the celestial twins, and even an honest to the realms pickpocket attempt. Despite all this their guides in the form of the twins nonchalantly weaved through ever thicking halls of people until they finally reached the core of the station.

The interior was a massive cylinder that rose and fell for several floors and was built like a corkscrew as it wound up and down. The walls were lines with stalls, makeshift buildings, gatherings, and more people of multiple races.

All this combined with a massive transparent wall that circled around the entire wall, exposing them to the visage of space, the pit, a distant sun, and a few distant flashes of combat still over the planets surface.

After conteplating the view the group started down the spiral instead of up as the sights began to darken in their visible light and the services and sights as they went further down and the group instinctively closed in on one another for some reasuring protection.

Shady mercenaries offered work without talk of contracts, a beast merchant with strange creatures in cages much too small sold strange abominations, dirty clinics offered cheap procedures while self-titled array and formations masters offered magical services at questionable qualities.

While the two celestials might be aware of the uncomfortable feelings and wary energies it was Sparrow and Tarkus who could feel the actual danger in the unseen places as instinct and magic warned them of hidden dangers before each time the twins would casually lead them in the safest route with practiced and unspoken ease.

The two did not so much as dane to notice when they passed a litteral slave auction as men and a few women of military age, stripped down and downcast gazes were chained to a wall by thick collars while a spokesmen advertised them as captured mercenaries from the 'Xyr't' clan who were being sold off to pay off their failed contract debts at reasonable prices for the lives and freedoms into indentured servitude.

Tarkus knew part of the dvati twins history in context clues. The therewoods, mainly Suzume and Setsuya had partly adopted them into their family after some kind of troubled part of their families past they seldom spoke of. The two had been the slaves of a renowned free-trading captain and slave merchant and themselves were slavebreakers being raised from childhood to live the life of professional servants selling out their fellow mortals to others for their captains profit.

The two specialized in hard to subdue or break targets.

Like Demons or Celestials. Despite them being cleared out there were still specially warded cells in the Spriggan meant to confine and deprave beings just like him and his sistors before subjecting them to mindbreaking trauma through the wards bombarding their souls and minds...

It was in the way they looked at everyone; The way they appraised them, the way they clearly decided how to take down Tarkus if needed the moment he first met them and how much he could sell for in places like this.

The twins were not inherently bad people. They simply were raised and lived in a servile culture to another and despite the efforts of kinder souls like Setsuya by giving them a home and family had yet to embrace their new way of life.

It was why they werent safe to be around his sisters...

"Good he's still in buisness!" One of the twins, hard to tell which exclaimed to break them out of their cautious stupor as they approached a non-distinct metal door without a handle in the wall half way down the spiral with no sign or advertisement other than an illnyathi death rune carved into the center.

On approaching a slit manifested roughly three quarters of the way up and a set of eyes glared down at them silently. Producing a coin from somwhere questionable despite not opening any pouches and having no pockets one of the twins presented a large gray-purple coin to the slit for examination before the slit disapeared and the door swung open with nobody on the other side.

Without commentary the two entered, and after a brief glance with Tarkus, Sparrow positioned herself outside clearly intending to remain while the others entered for protection.

"We greet you, Tichmont" A crackly croaking voice greeted them, referening the Spriggans old name as the 'Messenger on Fire' from its slaving days.

Inside was a much larger than expected single room with bare metal walls with barely noticeable fractals and runewards while the other half was a simple and non descript counter with a hooded figure sitting on the other side infront of a more simple and unwarded door.

"He doesnt recognize people well." Komoe commented as Tomoe presented the coin to the figure who examined it before taking both her hands as the two bowed their heads in some kind of ritual.

Stepping back to Tarkus and the girls side the shrowded figure fixed him with its hidden gaze.

"What have you brought for us today?" It asked expectantly.

Tarkus ground his teeth in irritation. 'Why did they have to come.' He thought as Tomoe and Komoe ogled and hung all over them. Verena was more accepting of the attention while Lotara seemed to tolerate it only to make Tarkus mad.

Between his sisters, the twins, and Sparrow, it was a miracle no one has been thrown out an airlock.

The three siblings walked together, Tarkus and Lotara walking to either side of Verena. Both of them had their eyes straight ahead using their auras to watch for threats. Verena on the other hand looked a tad more nervous.

At the hooded man's words, Tarkus stepped forward. "I have a few rare tomes that I'm willing to part with, in exchange for some information on the Siren's Heart. Have you heard anything worth my rare books?" He asked. The sisters watching on expectantly.

There was an uncomfortable pause followed by unsen scurry under the counter and the door behind the figure slightly pressing ajar as several small somethings scampered about in another room. While this went on it was Komoe who spoke next, allowing the creature to exposed its gnarled and clawed inhuman hands to take his own as the two bowed their heads slightly.

"We will also need those items from storage and to withdraw all savings from this account." He stated dryly as the scurrying paused and then started again at the request.

"Are you seeking to close your account?" It asked to which Komoe shook his head in the negative, a slight twitch from his partners head back and forth more animatedly announcing this would be a bad idea of some kind.

Steppikng back they waited a few moments longer before a bunch of smaller, identical robed creatures swarmed onto the countertop to dispose of several small boxes, cards, tailisman stacks, and a few pouches before on the other side placing down an old scepter, a ring connected to a bracelet by a small golden chain, and a splinter of some kind of gem the size of a fingernail that gave off a barely noticeable warm glow.

"Of the Arzh goeti sula," It ground out the words in a strange touge that caused the twins to visibly twitch while they quietly secured their belongings while it waved a wicked hand over each of them.

"We have information on its potential wearabouts but offer these three items as alternatives which used in concert recreate the sula approximately."

"The Rod of Tannis creates a temporary Karmic-link with the weilder and others without risking offending karma or backlash. The chain of 'Lo' allows for the mental control over those who the weilder is connected to enough to have left seeds of karma; In this case through a temporary-link. And the last is a fragment of a crimson gem-heart that enhances the effect of bloodline manipulation.

We see these as an acceptable substitute to the originals functions rumored in Tallard Ravencrofts notes from his GC-1167 memoires and the reference to the sula in Maromars travel journals; Both of which we also have copies of." It offered.

Tarkus paused, deep in thought. This was odd... 'were they showing reverence to Komoe and Tomoe? No that couldn't be the case. Those two... miscreants wouldn't be in such a place of authority... and yet...' his thoughts went on like that for several long moments before they offered all their items.

He knew of each of them. All parts of the set. Powerful tools in their own right, but together made one quite formidable.

Lotara glanced at Tarkus questioningly but he simply shook his head, mouthing "later."

The demon cleared his throat and replied. "I'll take the lot." He said teaching behind him into a satchel and producing a stack of ancient tomes. "Will these cover the costs?"

Slowly, deliberately, each book, scroll, and tome was laid out in a line and a hand slowly waved over it testingly and only infrequently was it physically examined as the hooded figure appraised them with the caution of a genuine expert before looking back up at them. With all the focus on him none of them saw but instead heard the slide of leather and skittering away as all but one of the smaller tomes was left behind.

"The others will suffice and more. Of this one we carry the original masters grimoire and several of these copies of this apprentices' works." He stated, casually discounting Grandmaster Maridar's tome asghol as mediocre. But before an argument could start up it was one of the twins who butted in.

"You said 'and more'. How much do we have in credit including the books?" Komoe casually inquired, and the haggling began.

Almost an hour later the five of them now more weighed down than they arrived finally joined Sparrow back outside mid conversation as the nekomata was in a surreal and englightened conversation with her peers as beside her was three massive amazonian women with only as much armor as they had modesty to cover them, and a slightly smaller but more wide than tall man made even moreso with a reinforced armored hardsuit as the four of them together were speaking in short clipped statements and even somehow conveying entire conversations in grunts or single minomers while the others would nod sagely before adding their own two or three sylabyl statement and the other four would nod or laugh or grin or grunt in agreement.

Taking note of their arrival again Sparrow broke contact with her new aquaitences with a series of wrist-clasps and knowing knods to her new friends before rejoining them with a rare smile tugging at her lips and a slight pep in her step.

"We should stay here for a while. Helski," She seemingly name dropped one of her new contacts as one of the amazonians visibly flexed a pectoral muscle, "Says the combat here is dull but good for training."

The look that she gave the dimminutive twins, the soft celestials, and Tarkus small frame implied that she felt they could something more in their daily lives and activities.

After stepping out of the store, Tarkus opened a rift and placed the truly valuable objects inside while continuing to carry the less valuable books. He didn't want it to look like they walked out with nothing after all. That be more suspicious...

Tarkus looked from Sparrow to the Amazonian women, his eyes lingering just long enough for Lotara to smack the back of the demon's head. "Oww..." He murmured.

Lotara narrowed her eyes "We'll talk about this later."

Tarkus shook his head and turned back when Sparrow made her announcement. "We can't Sparrow. We need to get back to the station." He said gently.

"nonsense!" Timor declared a little too loudly for their seedier surroundings at the perfect moment to cut off Sparrows eventual retort as the wilier of the twins cozied up to lotara while the more reserved but still mischievous Komoe offered a gentleman's arm to verena to hook into before he informed them that they still had a half douzen accounts in their old captains name to take advantage of.

"you really should go easy on him, lota, Tomorrow urged playfully at the demons obvious expense before doing her best to hook a hand around the celestials waist good nature fly to lead her on.

"At his age you know; As a long-time bachelor even someone as high strung as tako starts to look around for someone to settle down and talk about blood and blood related things with." She teased, eliciting nods from sparrow; the resident wallflower of eselberg station.

"Miss Therewood is quite a catch, cant blame him for his wandering gaze considering her sisters and mother." Komoe agree, causing sparrow to pause and give Tarkus a warning glare.

Lotara smirked as Tomoe took ahold of her waist, looking to Tarkus. "We should stay a little while longer Tarkus. Come on."

Verena smiled and hooked her arm in Komoe's. She giggled at what she thought was good natured teasing of the twins. "It'll be fun! We've been stuck in the station for so long."

The sisters would see though that not only was Tarkus absolutely livid, he was also whole heartedly opposed to the idea of staying. His arms were crossed in defiance. "If you all haven't noticed, this is not a luxury resort." He replied rather testily. "Staying here will be more trouble than it's worth, mark my words."

"Perhapse not for you" Komoe agreed before turning away with an unreadable look and began to lead them back up the spiral before Tomoe followed up the comment stating just barely loud enough for lotara and verena to hear in a somber tone,

"But it was for us."

It was impossible to determine if they were genuine, trying to earn sympathy points with the girls, or just needle at tarkus more after they continued on like usual.

"So where should we go first?" Tomoe piped up.

"There are various outlets, stores, and services on the upper floors, restaurants as well" The other offered.

Meanwhile behind them, sparrow dropped back to match pace with tarkus.

"You judge them over harshly" she admonished him with a concerned tone likely reserved for his welfare than that if the twins. "What troubles you?"

Lotara and Verena both shot Tarkus disapproving glances that only older siblings could achieve. They both escorted the twins, Lotara replying "Let's get some food! I'm starving." She said trying to lift the twins spirits.

"I wanna do some shopping!" Verena added as they walked.

Tarkus shook his head and sighed. "I didn't mean it like that for hell's sake." He murmured. Looking to Sparrow, he shook his head again. "I'm wasn't trying to imply anything about them by the statement. But I've seen the looks we've been getting. I'm just trying to get us all home safe. The items in our possession are worth a considerable sum. They are also extremely dangerous in the wrong hands." He explained as they lazy followed behind.

"And your hands are the right ones?" She asked back in a moment of rare out of character philosophy while continuing to look ahead as they walked.

Tarkus opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. The question had caught him off guard. "I like to think Ia now." He finally replied as his sisters continued to chat with the twins. "Let's just say I'm trying to make up for past mistakes."

"It is our actions that define who we are." Sparrow agreed without judgement. "But remember that the ideal you strive for may only be 'right' in the eyes of a few who know you best, while others remain suspicious or fearful of what you are regardless of your intentions."

"As for our safety do not concern yourself. My kind have long been subject to the trades of places such as these far beyond even yours or your sisters for reasons I am sure you may have guessed. It is why it is I here and not my sisters or sachi after all; They have all been exposed to such things or subject to them and it is my responsibility..." she paused, clearly uncomfortable with the subject.

While Sparrow was just as appealing as her sisters to potential slavers targeting her races beauty and racial quirks such as their biological breeding cycles,she was an outlier with her uncommon martial path and capabilities making her a much more dangerous and niche prey compared to a lot of her kind and their abundance.

The demon quietly took in her words and mulled them over in his mind. Finally he sighed in defeat. "I guess the real reason I'm worried... I've only just gotten my sisters back. I thought I'd never see them again. I had buried them in my mind long ago. If I were to lose them all over again, I'm not sure I could bury them once more." He admitted quietly.

The angels in question pulled the twins into a nearby restaurant and began ordering food. Both making small talk with Tomoe and Komoe. Tarkus looked at them, then back to Sparrow. "You should join them. I have a feeling they want some space from me at the moment. I'll go drop our purchase off at the ship."

"Nonsense." She declared but relented none the less when it became apparent he was not going to budge. Reluctantly she joined them and was immediately beset upon by the group as a waiter in the admittedly nice looking restaurant practically materialized at their table side.

He had made it perhapse only a short distance when the unmistakeable tingle of someone magically inspecting him was detected. As soon as it started it was over though the lingering trace pointed upwards where a figure on the othe side of the spiral overlooking them quickly pulled out of sight.

Tarkus frowned as he felt the magical presence. "Damn it all." Ducking into an alleyway, he pulled tube of blood from his pocket and smashed it on the ground. "Simulacra!" He said, enchanting the blood at his feet. The crimson blood began to bubble, as a doppleganger of the demon grew. The simulacra immediately jumped away and began shadowing his party as he continued on his way.

He needed to find out who they were and what they wanted, and fast. Continuing on his way, he kept his eyes peeled. Both his and the Simulacra's.

Re-entering the station's traffic Tarkus was immediately able to tell a group of two men in casual wear going against the tide to keep line of sight with him while another was quickly cutting across the way to intercept him. While he was clearly being herded the intended destination became somewhat clear as a man in a finely dressed saffron robe with crimson gilding stepped out of an alley with three other men in casual attire and blocked his path with a sympathetic smile and Oddly hollow eyes as Tarkus was cornered between clear pursuers on all sides as the occasionally passerby avoided the scene on instinct.

What was odd however was that despite being essentially cornered it was clearly not all one party as the first group who intended to pursue him eyed the robed man and his posse wearily With Tarkus as some kind of intended Target by both groups to no uncertain ends.

Tarkus stopped in the middle of the road, hemmed in on all sides. He telepathically linked to Lotara and Verena. "Get everyone to the ship, now." He ordered.

The sisters, who were tucking into their food both stopped, then dropped their forks in shock. "Tarkus is in trouble!" Verena said, worry written across her face.

Lotara moved to run to Tarkus's side, but he mentally waved her off. "I can handle them. Get the others to the ship. Trust me."

Tarkus looked from one group to the other. He wanted to sprout his wings and take to the air, but he also wanted answers. His Simulacra landed behind Tarkus, standing back to back with its master. "Well, what do you want then? Come on children I don't have all day." The two Tarkus's said in unison.

There was a hesitation in the standoff between the two groups with Tarkus inbetween as the section of spiral seemed to become otherworldly silent and quickly emptying of traffic as passersby found anywhere else to be but in the middle of a standoff.

On one side the red-robed man seemed completely at ease with his three less garishly dressed than himself as he gave Tarkus a 'what can you do?' shrug at the situation he found himself in the middle of. His carefree posture and warm smile on his bald pate of a face in a place like this was more concerning than four likely armed men...

As if the thought brought it to life the ladies escape route was routinely cut off as a douzen men in matching armored hardsuits started swarming out from a shutter and formed a loose semi-circle in their path. Their military-style equipment while lacking compared to the UNS in quality was still nothing to balk at caught in the open as they were as rifles were trained on not only Tarkus' group but also the robed man whose grin turned almost pitful as if he were expecting more. His three comrades still looked confident but not nearly as much being caught in the open against 3:1 odds.

"I think-" he began cordually before being cut off by one of the armored men whose voice screamed either prior military or mercenary of some kind the way everything was overtly loud and brought from the diaphram.

"The crew of the Messenger will come with us, now." He growled the demand in a way to imply it was anything but a request. At the reference to the Spriggans old name both the twins silently cursed.

"Perhapse-" The robed man attemped again before yet again,

"Interfearence will not be tollerated; Just give me an excuse." The last part was emphasized with the dropping of a hand to the holster of a way too large sidearm by the mercenary captain as smile finally dropped from the robed mans face.

His three associates taking a respectful step back and bowing their heads with eyes closed there was a palpable change to the feeling in the air as the man frowned and leaned his head back; Pinching the bridge of his nose with eyes closed in clear annoyance.

When he opened his eyes again his eyes were a pitch black like shining onyx with saphire blue iris with flecks of red swirling around the iris while blue-purple tendrils visibly squirmed out from under his eyelids like wriggling beds of leeches caressing the orbs of his eyes while a single streak of blood dripped from one tear duct as he looked down at the mercenary interlopers with a gaze that everyone present felt as he violated the security of their very souls to expose them as meekly and vunerable as the days they were born as any caught in his gaze felt the proverbial throttling around something so inviolable that everyone without any protection like Tarkus or his sisters shuttered unable to take so much as a breath or move an inch.

Sparrow stiffened, her lips pulling back in a silent snarl as her hair visibly poofed out and her ears went flat against her head as she struggled to understand while the twins visibly slumped down to their knees together shuttering with clear fear and horror at the experience.

What felt like an eternity lasted only seconds as the man blinked and his eyes returned to a normal hazel as his comrades lifted their heads and one took a single step forwards and offered a hankerchief.

"Now-" He tried again, dabbing at the blood from his eye as he gave a glare to the mercenaries; Most looking at their hands, the ground, or anywhere but the source of the sudden trauma while a few outright stumbled away in fear. Their boss simply stood still and unmoving, his fate and status unknown behind his armored helmet.

"On behalf of my master I would like to extend your group an appology for not interveaning sooner and to also extend an invitation to some light pleasentries while this matter is sorted in a more amicable setting before you leave.

A strong grip handed on Tarkus' shoulder while the man kowtowed as Sparrow pulled herself forwards from her stupor to stand just offside of him.

"What... Was that?" She half whispered half hissed, still clearly processing the prior experience.

Tarkus was about to attack when the robed man's eyes turned black... with sapphire blue irises. Just like his. "Blood magic." He said to no one in particular, a statement not a question.

As Sparrow arrived, so too did Tarkus's sisters with the twins. Tarkus placed a steadying hand on Sparrow's arm. "It was blood magic." He said again. Looking back to Verena and Lotara he asked, "Are you both okay?"

Lotara nodded. "Yeah, We're fine." The elder sister replied, as Verena held both of the twins protectively. Using her own healing magic on them.

Tarkus turned back to the robed man, his Simulacra melting back into a pool of blood as he did. He paid the other soldiers no mind. The clear and present threat was the robed man before him, as well as whoever his master was. "I would like to know who your master is before we agree to anything." He said neutrally as Lotara took up a position behind and to the right of him.

Seemingly pleased at not hitting overall resistance the man nodded seemingly more to himself than Tarkus before bending over at the waist with a flourish as one palm pressed to his chest while the other was extended to the side in a courtious greeting.

"My name is Magnus Langolis, and I have the pleasure to once again extend you greetings and invitations to the company of the exalted one and your good friend; Fyodr the Black - Of the Sanguinette"

He added the last part as a matter of course the reference to something known as the 'Sanguinette' let alone anyone by the name of Fyodr and his title of 'The black'

At least for the most part, the twins stirring slightly at the name.

"We know master Fyodr" Komoe mumbled weakly, just barely loud enough for the girls to hear but it got a knowing smile from the man, Magnus, all the same.

"And he remembers you still, young one." Magnus intoned, "He was content to hear upon the sighting of your masters ship that the two of you are still hale and whole".

He said it unironically despite the fact the two were still half dazed and on their knees intertwined protectively with each other. While they spoke, Sparrow settled slightly still at Tarkus side as she began to carefully measure the man and his associates.

"Can I beat him?" She asked none too quietly to Tarkus, clearly aware that Magnus had well enough hearing as it was. Her tone conveyed alot more than what she said as the clear implications of the previous magic of some kind and possible collateral came into play.

At barely ten paces away Magnus was still well within first-striking distance for someone like her but when it came to anything magical her experience was limited beyond removing them from the field before spells came into play making her the most ideal card for removing a dangerous foe.

Sparrow was not a diplomatic individual, lacking the social graces of those like her elder sister. She was the hammer to Setsuyas' flower and sudden and extreme violence was what she knew best even if against a possibly bad matchup a foe with sanguine magics like Magnus.

Tarkus shook his head solenmly. "Doubtful, unfortunatly." He replied, placing his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "Stay close to me and play along, we need more info. " He added quietly.

Lotara and Verena again tried to soothe the twins as Tarkus spoke to the robed man."If that is the case, he should know not to put my friends into such a state. He has nearly scared them all half to death with your little stunt." he repiled, his hand squeezing Sparrow's arm as if to beg her to go along with his little deception.

Looking to Lotara and Verena, he nodded. They needed to learn what this little group was all about, if nothing less to take them down and eliminate another blood magic user from the equation. Having one blood magi was already draining enough on the Eseleberg station staff...

Wasn't Tarkus' fault all his pat were idiots...

Magnus looked unperturbed and simply gave a blaise shrug to the matter. "The men who atempted to apprehend you before are part of a much larger oginization in this backwater of a system who are after your ship more than your welfare. My men are aware of at least twice the number as before currently laying in wait outside your hangar to intercept you; I simply see it as doing you a favor and as for your tone-"

While his eyes did not change magically they did harden in their gaze as he matched Tarkus' own.

"Do not misplace my corduality or that of my masters lightly and disregard your own lives in return by rejecting the opertunity I have presented you."

The coldness of his tone lifted and he clapped casually, still looking about rather tiffed at the still lingering and recovering mercenaries who had not crawled or staggered away.

"Oh, not a threat, by-the-by. You really wont make it off this station if you try to leave now; In fact the esplanade where my master resides will shortly become the safest place in this entire system before long and he has extended your group an invitation and opertunity by doing so."

"So will your group be joining us for pleasentries or moving on your way?" The enunciation of the first option made it clear which one Magnus would prefer and which was a bad idea.

Tarkus had to bite back the retort which was clawing its way up his vocal cords. 'Arrogant little twit. He seriously thinks he could take us...' Tarkus thought as he took a calming breath. "Fine... Lead on then."

Lotara and Verena each took a twin by the hand and followed behind the robed man. They were attempting to be reassuring at the same time giving them a bit of magical protection. Tarkus looked to Sparrow. "I've got your back. You have mine right?" He asked, placing his hand on her shoulder, imparting a magical barrier just as his sisters were doing.

A sharp nod with a grunt answered Tarkus as they were all casually ushered on and away from the few remaining mercenaries still not of their right minds. It turned out to be no great feate of how they were so quickly intercepted by Magnus when barely any distance at all and through a shutter was an elevator of some kind that he opened with a simple card and ushered them in.

The small size of the vessel was rather intimate as it slowly rose upwards in awkward silence as Magnus' associates performed the 'silent and brooding subbordinate' trope while Magnus was simply having the time of his life at all times, always looking about and studying everything.

He did seem curious as to the composition of their group; Tarkus being infernal in nature and his sisters Celestial origins.

"Did you perhapse fight under bakers' sun?" He broke the silence, "I do not recall seeing either you or your lovely friends amongst the survivors of the Judds' campaign." He referenced some event or battle he seemed to have partook in through the context that somehow must have involved both other-planar forces fighting together instead of each other for once.

Both Tarkus and Lotara barely contained there contemptuous gazes. Verena shook her head "No, we weren't there." She replied before Tarkus or Lotara could put their foot in their mouth.

Tarkus studied the man for some time. He actually was a part of that battle. He was called, and he owed some favors. It was a hellish battle. Of course if it was bad enough to have both the infernals and celestials fight on the same team meant that the enemy had to be truly a threat to everyone.

He had pushed those memories to the far corners of his mind, and now had to draw them back in.

"You were quite lucky then, I suppose." Magnus nodded more to himself than them as he looked as whistfully into the distance as one could in a cramped elevator.

"Quite the tale if you ever find one with the time to tell it. Even we who fought for the Triarch felt it bittersweet in the end from what end the mighty Judd met by treachery no less. Our Triarch even in a technical victory secluded herself after the loss of her rival and prophetised destined death she obsessed over; Walked right into a sun in grief only to find her curse would not let her pass. Take it as a cautionary tale about believing in prophecy and true love and all that, now that shes lost the will to go on and her former vassals war over the scraps of her empire and her once mighty self as some kind of trophy."

It was unclear from the extra information given if Magnus believed Tarkus or not, but there was little enough time to probe more when the lift slowed to a crawl and then a half as the doors slid open smoothly with a simple chime and allowed them to extracate themselves.

If the interior of Falke station was a barely held together mess of dirt, rust, and rivets the large open galla they foundthemselves in must have take at least a sizeable chunk to build and maintain from whatever income the station drew as rusted bolted platewalk made way for smooth and intricately descorated tiled floor shined enough to reflect. The dim lighting of the station was replaced not with any actual alternative but instead the interior of the massive 15,000 square foot galla was walled by some kind of glass or screen showing in a complete 360-degree view of space around them as the light of the distant sun warmed up its interior and the distant planet floated like a fixturepiece.

It was the oposite of the station itself in its gaudy displays of luxury as they entered. Despite its size however it was sparsely populated as the ivory-carved dining tables had mostly been pushed off to one side to make room on the dancefloor for a large group of at least fifty people from a staggering diversity of professions from jumpsuit-clad workers to a few fancily-dressed traders all sitting or standing in semi-circle that was obscurred until they drew closer.

Inside was three boys of middling teenage years, wearing not but their trousers as they wearily circled about a rather unremarkable woman in a servers uniform with included apron as the three boys each weilded wicked looking curved blades fashioned in a half-moon arc like a dangerous Khopesh; Sporting each a few shallow cuts on their arms or sides or backs while the slightly older woman weilded the same blade but without a white knuckled grip as it was always seeming a moment from falling out of her loose grip only for one of the boys to lunge only to be swatted away and gifted a new shallow cut from a remarkably viper-like swipe of the woman and the chers of the onlookers as the cycle continued.

The spattering of simular blades amongst the front most row of the crowd and a few visible cuts on a few showed it was hardly isolated to whatever lesson or trial the three boys were being put through.

"Little bit of sparring to get the blood flowing before the show, you know how it is." Magnus commented off hand as he moved past the fighting circle just as the woman parried again and left one of the boys with a backhand hard enough to send him sprawling.

Even with a three against one, the young woman glanced almost casually at them as they passed while crossing blades without even looking.

Her eyes were solid black orbs with the saphire blue of deep ice as she tracked them.

Away from the crowd there were a few more scattered groups as people from seemingly incompatible walks of life mingled in either conversation, random activities, or just sprawled about on richly furnished furniture looking not at all like they belonged in the upper-reaches of the station.

With almost two hundred people in the massive galla they finally reached a non-descript group like all the others where five men sat around one table enjoying cups of what looked like a smooth white whine of some kind as a massive man in a powered-armor hardsuit nodded agreeably with his arms crossed as a wirely little man half his size talked animatedly while drawing some kind of diagram on a tablet to show him as the other three simply seemed to bask in the company. The other three were little more than a seemingly ancient old man in a loose-fitting suit and intricate silver cane who seemed to almost be perpeutally shaking in the cold, a tradesman in a dirty jumpsuit and still with an engineers toolbelt, and a young man barely into adulthood who looked like he was too bewildered by everything around him and was instead trying to watch the distant fighting longingly.

When they approached Magnus stood a ways away before with a snap of his heels and a deep bow accompanied by his three offsiders looked expectantly at Tarkus, Sparrow and the rest of the group expectantly to follow suite.

Tarkus listened to Magnus as he spoke. 'So he was on the opposite side then...' he thought as they continued upwards. Entering the galla, Tarkus clicked his tongue in annoyance. Someone thought highly of themselves...

He watched the woman with black eyes and ice blue irises. Another blood mage... that was two so far and Tarkus had the distinct impression that wasn't all of them.

And then the real kicker, they wanted them to bow?! Who in the hell was this upstart. Tarkus looked to his sisters and the three shared a look if annoyance. The Zorens once belonged to a noble family, so they knew what was expected. The three gave short bows, on the razor edge of proper etiquette and outright disrespect.

They could not outright see it bowed as they where but the youngest member if by his voice practically barked out at the group in response.

"You would not show propper due respect?"

Before any of them could wonder if they had erred it was Sparrow who spoke up and brought context to the statement.

"You bow to show subserviance, not respect." When she clearly had not followed suite. The younger man inhaled sharply to retort before a deep bellowing laugh resounded from the armored man who slapped the table non too gently.

"Oh I like this one!" There was a scuffle of chairs as most of the table departed sans for the young man who seemed keen to stay longer before being practically yanked away by his armored comrade with an arm wrapped around his shoulder in comradery as he steered them towards the fighting still going on.

"That will be all, Magnus." The old man spoke. His voice was dry but crystal clear as if he were simply standing beside them all. Without so much as a word Magnus and his offsiders departed out of sight.

There was an awkward period of silence as the old man just leaned on his cane in his chair clearly appraising them. When it had gone on clearly long enough he opened his mouth as if to speak when the two youngest members of the group were on him startlingly fast without even having seen them move.

Tomoe was on her knees, arms wrapped around the elderly mans waist in a hug as she burried the side of her face affectionately on him with a muffled cry of "Fyodr!" words of exhaserbation as the more reserved Komoe stood just off to the side with a hand ontop of the old mans on his cane as he looked down at the older man with clear affection.

The strange elder gave a suprisingly toothy smile as he petted ones head and acknowledged the other before finally turning to the other four of the group, Sparrows bravdo melting in confusion at the sight.

"I suspecte," Fyodr began, mirth and even a little embarassment in his tone like any old caring grandfather. "That you are wondering why you've been invited here?"

The Zorens looked from the twins to Sparrow to each other. 'Well this just got a lot more complicated.' Tarkus thought to himself as he turned his gaze to the old man. "Yeah that would be helpful." The demon deadpaned. Verena looked to Tomoe and Komoe and asked "You know this man?" She asked.

Lotara moved next to Sparrow, crossing her arms as she waited for their answers. 'This should be good...' he thought with a mental eye roll.

Eventually the twins detatched themselves from Fyodr and took a suprisingly subserviant posture behind and off to the side of his chair. Therew was no overt magic, nothing noticably amiss. Yet when they spoke and the almost distant glossy look in their eyes was completely different from their rambunctious personalities with even Tomoe matching her partners professional and cordial tone.

"Yes." they both spoke in perfect unison. "We have the pleasure to introduce Fyodr Ayno of the Sanguinette."

They both bowed their heads ever so slightly in defference towards Fyodr, who in turn looked casually over his shoulder at them and then back towards the rest of the group where he seemed almost suprised by their skepticism.

"When I was informed the messenger; The ship you arrived on, had entered the system and that other than Tichmonts two Dvati there was a host of celestials, a demon, and a nekomata I had assumed my old friend Captain Tichmont was offloading new stock and I sent my accolyte to invite my former buisness partner-"

Fyodr slowed his clip and studied them curiously as he droned on. While she had not overtly changed her posture or features Sparrows hair had risen slightly and there was a visible tightening on the cordage of the muscles of her arms and visible back. To what paticular part of the mans explanation it was about was unknown as the once massive cat pulled her eyes into near pinprick slits.

"So imagine my suprise that the messenger had not only changed hands but that the very ilk Raymon Tichmont once made his fortunes on that bought it now used it with his former life wards wandering about unbonded."

"Though I must ask, Is Tichmont?" He inquired, to which got a montone "He is." From sparrow, the shortness of the tone and even bit of haughtiness to slip through implying that she, personally, had ended the former slaver and owner of the Sadistic Spriggan.

"That is a shame." Fyodr shook his head slowly in regret, "But that is how men like him oft end. But I would not squander the opertunities I had intended to offer him to your group, so tell me, before all that what would you ask for the bond of these two?"

He spoke to both Sparrow and Tarkus, not quite sure which of them was technically in charge as he casually inquired about the price of re-enslaving the two twin Dvati into his service like he was discussing the price of wheat at the market."

Sparrow remained perfectly still as she processed just what she had heard so foriegn a concept it was.

"They are not for sale." Tarkus replied before either of his sisters could reply. They both looked taken aback that Tarkus would stand up for the two trouble makers, which also made him feel bad. "Those two are free, and I won't be selling them off to anyone." Tarkus added with an air of finality.

Looking back at Tomoe and Komoe, his eyes glowed softly as he attempted to ascertain what was wrong with them... if it wasn't magic then it was... "Psychological conditioning? Or torture?"" The doctor asked. On the surface Tarkus looked as he always did, annoyed. But underneath, his sister could tell what he felt. He was concerned, which only amped up their own.

Verena stepped up next. "Apologies for the confusion, if Tomoe and Komoe could come back with us we'll leave the station."


"Not torture, though I hardly know the process; Life wards are often trained from near birth for subserviance and are mentally conditioned throughout their lives for such. As a former regular client of their former master they simply fall into old habbits and familiar norms and customs." Fyodr explained as he dismissed the twins with little more than a gesture of the finger and the strange feuge state was practically dispelled as Komoe bowed slightly and Tomoe gave the old man a quick hug before they moved off to the side at a point between him and their group while looking marginally interested at the distant entertainment.

He continued talking as if they werent still there, the words seemingly ignored or subconciously unheard by the two.

"If I could give advice it would be to bond them again to another. There is little in these worlds more absolute than a life wards conditioning and training and to have them travel with you is the same as doing so with a blade over your heart at all times; They will at some point betray any trust or affection you thought you had over them when they break and sell you before submitting to the first master to recognize what they are and claiming their bond. It is just the nature and instinct of these creatures."

"As for your ship?" He wondered, looking off to someone inconspicuous who still lingered close by and who gave a slow shake of the head. "Still very much a point of contention. But that should solve itself rather soon and is one of the reasons I had invited my old friend here and would extend the same courtesies to your group as well."

"As one of the blood, and quite an old kin too I sense tell me," He asked tarkus "What know you of the 'Sanguinette?'"

Tarkus looked back at the twins. 'So that's what it is...' he thought. As Fyodr explained, Tarkus grimaced in response. The thought of the twins betraying them and selling them off wasn't as far fetched as the demon originally believed. His sisters however didn't believe a word. Yet they remained silent as Tarkus and Fyodr conversed.

"And what process must one do to bond them once more?" He asked, feeling death stares from his sisters again.

Shaking his head at the last question, he replied. "Don't know much. Care to enlighten me?"

Fyodr shook his head at the first question, less a denial to the question and more an admittance that he was not quite sure himself. As for the second he tapped his silver cane to the floor a couple times before pointing past them.

"For the best context, first tell me what you see?"

The direction he pointed was obvious in context. Past the fighting pit and all the strangers, and taking up a large swathe of the viewing-wall was 'The Pit' taking up a large swathe of their view.

Around it close by small ships still scurried about, and further out a few flashes from the still ongoing battle of a couple larger vessels raged. On the planets surface it was rather clear and day with the sun at the stations back but in at least four places there were scars of black smoke visible from massive fires.

"Bunch of losers fighting over scraps." Tomoe sneered, Komoe instead responding with a more reserved "Struggle for limited resources."

Sparrow didnt answer, either not sure of her own answer or not trusting what she would say would sound 'inspiring' enough.

Tarkus grimaced as he looked out at the sight before him. It looked like the scene from a bad vid. It was a chaotic mess of violence and blood shed. His body was screaming at him to grab his companions and to haul ass. The scene only conjured up one word. "Slaughter." He then looked around the space, to all the people who were enjoying their safety up here. They were enjoying this... Enjoying watching those poor bastards fighting for their lives. His nails dug into his palms as he clenched his fist.

Verena and Lotara watched on in stunned horror as the carnage played out around them.

"That is one way to look at it. I for one see it as a waste; A waste of manpower, of potential. Thousands less artists, scholars, or teachers. Fewer innovators, writers, or orrators instead just the play of greed driving men who have never known the touch of steel or fire sending those desperate for wealth and glory in the oldest of occupations."

The twins snickered.

"The 'other' oldest occupation." The old man gave a barely tooth filled grinned back at them.

"This world- This 'Pit' has no abundance of riches or even the natural resources to sustain a conflict almost thirty years in the making now. Powerful men simply sunk too much into claiming it for themselves to write off their losses or allow their rivals to win so the fighting continues.

What my group; The 'Sanguinette' seeks is to end such conflicts. Every man, every woman, every person here is of the Sanguinette or soon will be. They come from all walks of life and many of those here have worked this very station or seen the futility of the conflict they fought and have taken up the cause of ending the charade once and for all.

Decades of conflict will end today without a drop of innocent blood being spilled."

Tarkus sided eyed the old man as he explained his groups motives. "Is that so..." He replied skeptically. "And how, pray-tell, do you plan to end all this conflict?" He added, waving his hand out at the expansive cluster fuck down below them.

"Through an act of magic I suspect not even one as old as you have experienced before." He gestured at the chairs his comrades had left vacant without actually explaining the 'how' while letting on he at least had some grasp of Tarkus' depth when it was apparent that Fyodr was at least as old as he seemed from a mortal perspective.

"Sit. Sit. It should not be long now; Within the hour at most!" he insisted. It was sparrow who sat first, albeit slowly; Her innate curiocity overtaking her cooling reserve when conflict had not arisen. She took up the farthest seat oposite of the old man and kept her attention on him like a laser and not on whatever phenomena may eventually take place behind.

The three siblings eyed each other questioningly, then when Sparrow sat Tarkus sighed and did like wise. This was followed shortly by Lotara and Verena who watched the man warily.

"I have seen many magics in my time, created many as well. So why don't you try me?" Tarkus said cooly.

"I would not go so far as to try to educate my elders or even take credit for the framework it's based on as greater minds within the sanguinette. I am merely the designated 'whitness' as our group calls it. The framework was initiated several weeks ago on the planet itself and acts as a anchor against the structural integrity of this systems dimensional membrane; like an overly sophisticated beacon of sorts"

Sparrow, not even trying to understand nuance several orders of magnitude above her level leaned towards lotara,

"What does any of that mean? I don't see any magic."

As Fyodr explained, the hair on Tarkus' neck stood on end. The old man was the beacon for a system wide spell? And he and his companions were sitting right next to the damn beacon.It had also been going on for weeks, which only could mean...

"Ritual magic then...?" Tarkus asked.

"Quite right." Fyodr acknowledged Tarkus' deduction with an approving nod. "In most cases the dimensional membrane of a system or area or locaized space is considered inviolable to large-scale magical effects with the larger and more broad spells on such a scale needing to be local for that very reason; Trying to fit a square peg in a round hole otherwise.

But what we've done here. What we have done in other places before is to essentially errode over time just enough of a hole to pass through a foreign force into a localized system which relfects back the forces used back at our anchor point to amplify and fuel the magics involved beyond the fulcrum we had applied."

Seeing Sparrows confusion and the twins looking disinterested the old man simplified it for them.

"The Pit; The world itself fuels our magic believing it is rebuffing it." He explained.

Tarkus narrowed his eyes. "So that how you get the power for the magic, but you have yet to say what this spell is supposed to do. However, I think I have a general idea. You say you want to end all the conflict here. Let me guess, this spell of yours is going to make all the people down there into thralls of the 'Sanguinette?' Take away their free will?" Tarkus said, hazarding a guess as to the true purpose of the spell.

Amused, Fyodr perked one eyebrow up and repeated the world "Thralls?" in incredulity.

"My boy the Sanguinette is naught but the world we hail from. And there are no slaves, no indentured, no thralls there. Even those we bought from the good captain were out of convience and not for any source of labor or pleasure; Broken souls and slaves do not seek more than for their masters sake when what we want is for the sake of all."

Tarkus gritted his teeth. The old fart wouldn't stop talking in circles and Tarkus was getting sick of it. "Fine. Then what is the puropse of the spell then? How are you going to get this 'utopia' you want?" He said through clenched teeth.

Lotara looked at Tarkus, and gripped the edge of the table. This wasn't going to end well...

It was unclear if the old man was intentionally needling Tarkus without intending to or was just simply enjoying the mellodrama but contin ued none the less.

"What do you think it is; How would you go about it having seen so much in unlife?"

Angry energy was bleeding from Tarkus like a cup that was about to overflow if one more drop was put in. 'This son of a bitch...' He thought, as he opened his mouth to reply. "Well to start..."

Before Tarkus could start a tirade, Verena put a calming hand on Tarkus's shoulder. "Easy brother..." She said in a low voice.

Taking a second to breathe, Tarkus looked back to Fydor and replyed. "There is no easy way to accomplish such a feat, 'boy.'" He said, emphasizing the last word.

Fyodr, a gleam in his eye opened his mouth to speak but was surreptitiously cut off.

"I would remove their will to fight." Sparrow interjected before clarifying "To end the conflict. I would strike their desire or motivation to continue the conflict."

Fyodr slapped an old, wrinkled hand on the table and pointed at her in return, a flash of suprisingly white teeth in a grin.

"Correct, miss!" He praised her, Sparrow clearly beeming with pride despite the clear dubious intentions of the peoples around them. Once she chose to like someone she was too trusting, and praise was an easy way to get through to Sparrow Therewoods good side.

"You should remove their will- Their drive to fight. That is what we seek to do today. Now, how would you go about it?" He instead adressed the two celestials, Tarkus no longer the main contributor to the conversation, the old man sought to at least invest everyone thouroughly and get their opinions and participation.

Lotara looked at Fydor and continued to remain silent, refusing to engage. She too could play this game.

Verena turned as well. "Creating a Utopia is for the gods to design, I am merely a humble servant. "Verena replied neutrally."

The change in the old mans demeanor was almost palpable as his eyes pulled into a squint and his mirth turned to tight lipped sneering.

"What know you of the designs of gods, woman?" While it was spoken quietly the statement seemed to carry as all the conversations in the large group of strangers seemed to die off and peter out into confusion while a few key figures looked pointedly in their direction such as the woman from the sparring circle.

Despite the tight squinting of his eyes what was visible was black as onyx with the exception of two iris almost imperceptiblysmall and saphire blue.

Clearly sensing something was wrong, Magnus Langolis broke away from the group he was conversing with and was already striving over.

Lotara and Tarkus both bristled at the Fydor's barb. Lotara's hand slammed down on the table, cracking it beneth the force of her blow. Her aura coming off in waves. "Mind your tone boy, or I'll be forced to teach you some manners." She said, her voice booming across the space.

There was an uncomfortable pause between the old man and the three beings, broken only by the loud and inconsistent slurping of noisily sucking air through a straw as Tomoe casually finished one of the drinks left on the table and began searching out the last few drops with a straw before plaing the glass down with a clink and a sigh.

"Fyodr we need to pee." The nonsequieter from her cut the tension as the old man slunk back into his seat with a sigh.

The old man for his part composed himself before casually putting a hand up to intercept Magnus as soon as he arrived as if it had been planned all along.

"Magnus show the children to the lavoratory, wont you?" He ordered the man who with clear confusion led the two off towards the server doors and likely past some kind of kitchen.

"Poor timing, that." He stated casually, his eyes back to normal as he looked more past the group than at any of them.

The mood between the sibling had shifted completly. Lotara was still fuming with indignation, Tarkus watched on with a cold fury, and Verena seemed to retreat in on herself and went silent. "The twins tend to do that." Tarkus replied cooly, a hand resting on the cracked table with his fingers silently drumming.

They allowed the uncomofrtable silence to stretch on, the only sound coming from Tarkus' nails tapping on the table rythmically.

Fyodr continued to look past them intently. It was Sparrow first who noticed something first from a slight reflection in the old mans slit-narrow eyes and how all of a sudden it became deathly silent in the theater despite the hundreds of people.

Turning around slowly her hackles visibly rose as her posture stiffened and her eyes opened wide.

Outside the station; Through the viewing glass and shield something had visibly changed. It started as a strange distortion as if looking at a pool of water circling a drain as the view of the pit was distorted and twisted as something truely massive started to take shape between it and the station.

The others had no inclination until the first person shouted.

"I WILL BEHOLD!" A woman shouted. and then a man, one of the teenagers in the fighting pit, and then too many to comprehend as men and women alike began to cheer and shout in excitement.

Slowly, the pinched portion of space began to unfold and take shape.

The three siblings looked around at all the shouting. It seemed the ritual had reached its climax, and now they were going to find out what this ritual was going to do...

It was Lotara who noticed the space folding in on itself. Slowly standing, she attempted to peer into the void. "What the hell...?"

Tarkus also slowly rose to his feet but he was looking back at all the chanting people. "What the hell...?" He said at the exact same time as Lotara.

As space unfolded slowly it became harder and harder to take ones gaze off of the summoned anomoly so much that even when Fyodr spoke again it was only just acknowledged.

"I had intended to offer my old friend Tichmont the honor of being one of our whitnesses for this event." He stated, an odd metalic 'clank' noise as his cane tapped the floor and he moved to stand next to Tarkus.

"Its a purely ceremonial duty to be one. Just an exucse to sit back and be satisfied that our task has suceeded once again; Few after all will ever be able to experience-"

There was a whiplash-like snap as like smoke in the wind the anomaly was ripped apart and in its place the entire visage before them was filled with a red-brown orb of immense scale.

The cheering halted all at once as awe overtook exhilaration.

"They made a planet!" Sparrow broke the silence with an uncharactaristicly emotional barked statement as she, against all her usual restraint invaded Lotaras personal space to clasp a hand on the celestials shoulder and point in amazement.

It... Wasnt... A planet. Smaller, more rotund it was a pretty small scale satelite-moon interposed between the station and the pit.

When the whisps of barely visible energy faded and the transition had become complete the stellar object went from static to ever so slowly and perceptably spinning on its axis.

"Behold; The sagnuinette." Fyodr spoke softly, reverently, and only just loud enough above a whisper that perhapse only Tarkus could hear him.

Lotara allowed Sparrow to get close to her and nodded at her words. "They made something alright but I don't think its a planet..." She replied as the angel attempted to make sense of what she was seeing.

Verena was standing now to, a hand covering her mouth.

Tarkus swallowed as he turned around and looked at the object. "The Sagnuinette?" He asked in disbelif. They summoned an entire celestial body into exsistence from thin air. "What's it for? Besides being massive?" Tarkus asked softly.

"It is a simulacrum of our home from afar; The Sanguinette. It is the answer to your question of how."

It was surely impressive. It wasnt really there if they were understanding him right but instead just a distant projection of it from wherever the real moon currently was somwhere out there in the sector. Being a rather small satalite it turned remarkably fast on its axis and with some mental math would probably make a full rotation within an hour or so.

The longer one looked at it, however, the more unease started to dwell in the pit of their chest. But it was unclear as to if it was simple awe or something else as the mind tried to process the scene.

Fyodr, slowly and clearly feeling every year of his age leaned heavily on his silver-ivory cane as he slowly tapped forwards and away from them and towards the larger group no doubt to join his comrades in enjoying the scene.

Uncharactaristicly Sparrow broke off from them and started after him with clear haste; Her ears flicking excitedly with all the past apprehention evaporated.

Lotara had not looked at her when she nodded. And her sister and Tarkus neither had noticed anything until the young nekomata paused just long enough to turn back to look at them.

With the moon obscuring the sun on the other side of the planet the theater had grown rather dim and almost dark even. So when Sparrow turned back to them it was startlingly easy to notice that the whites of her eyes had gone as black as obsidian and the faint orange of her eyes was now a saphire blue that somwhat glowed in the darkness.

Behind the girl, several others were also looking there way. Every single non-aligned or pacted person present had the same unnatural eyes as Magnus and Fyodr had before.

Despite her recently found depth of emotion Tarkus had accidentally revived within her the look of pure contentment was unnatural and unsettling on Sparrow as her mouth split a grin from ear to ear; Exposing the predator-sharp canines of her species.

"Are you not going to join us, Friends?" She beckoned them, One hand raised palm up in an open invitation.

The three siblings snapped around at Sparrow's question. Tarkus felt his stomach drop as he saw her eyes, which were mirrors of his own. Lotara and Verena too were stunned for a moment.

Then Tarkus's voice rang out through hall, reverberating with demonic malice. "What have you done...?" Black wings burst forth from his back and horns elongated.

Lotara and Verena followed suit on either side of him, white wings and halos appearing. A golden staff appeared in Verena's hand and she held it out towards Sparrow. "Release you hold on her!" The angel demanded pouring her power through the staff.

It was both cliche but also remarkably unsettling when close to three hundred sets of identical r sapphire eyes turned in near unison to regard the three of them with piercing stares like a pack of hyenas staring down a lion.

A creature of instinct, Spartie visibly bristled at the distress of her comrades and looked about frantically for the cause of their distres. While her eyes remained the same serious monotone had dashed the previous unsettling mirth when she spoke.

"What is it?" She grunted, clear concern evident as she continued to swivel her head looking for threats; The creepy mob of what was now clearly some kind of cult not entering her peripher.

Tarkus turned to Sparrow and held out his hand. "Come back over to us Sparrow. We are all in grave danger." He said calmly, as he slid his gloves off his hands.

Lotara held her hands out and light enveloped them, coalescing into a golden spear and great shield.

"Why are you speaking like that?" Sparrow asked back at the slow, deliberate tone Tarkus used. From her perspective the seeming distress was unfounded with her own danger sense being silent.

"Your friends," Fyodr shuffled over to the girls side to lean on his cane opposite of them. "Are just unsettled by what they don't understand, child."

"Don't patronize me. It doesn't take Deity levels of intellect to know that you ritual has done something to our friend!" Tarkus said, sneering. Now that Lotara and Verena had drawn their weapons, he might as well too.

With a sharp finger nail, he sliced the palm of his hand. Blood poured forth, solidifying into a crimson scythe. "Release her from this ritual now. Final warning." Tarkus threatened, spinning the scythe in his hand.

"Cease." The word was more a command than a request and came from Sparrow herself at the display. While it was subtle the young womand entire body began to tense as the definition of muscle mass on her arms and legs visibly flexed. While it was considerably more intimidating when she was several heads taller than anyone else and able to benchpress a shuttle the implications were clear.

 

[Char]

Taking a few steps forward Sparrow stopped several paces short before crossing her arms.

"You are not acting normal." She accused them unironically as if lecturing a child the way she once did Sachiko. "We are guests here. You are being irrational Tarkus Zoren."

Tarkus's head tilted to one side in confusion. "What are you talking about? You are the one acting odd." The demon tried to explain. Verena stepped up and pulled out a compact mirror and showed it to Sparrow. "Look at your eyes hun."

Sparrow sniffed once before peering at the mirrior. She looked at it, and then back up at them- at it, then them, and so on. Clearly not seeing anything out of the normal.

"You are acting ridiculous." She admonished them, "Cease this now."

In the tense silence of several hundred souls staring down three higher-order beings there was the slight slap of a door and two sets of feet slapping the tiled floor as Tomoe and Komoe came skidding to a halt as soon as they saw the scene.

Tomoe was a picture of what looked like a gruesome scene as the female of the twins was covered from chin to her feet in more wet blood than should have been survivable while Komoe only seemed up to the elbows as they froze like a doe in the headlights. Taking one look at the prescession of cultists with their glowing eyes and silent, predatory stares Tomoe coughed once.

And then the twins simply bolted off to the side and towards the elevator as fast as they could.

"What are you waiting for?!" Tomoe called over her shoulder.

"Run!" Her twin followed up.

The Zoren siblings didn't need any further encouragement. With a mighty flap of their wings, the sisters rocketed into the sky while Tarkus flew straight ahead, scoping up Sparrow in his arms. "We are leaving right now!" He exclaimed, pinning Sparrows arms to his chest as he flew so she couldn't wiggle out. After grabbing their bewitched companion, he flew upwards over the crowd.

Even as the twins hammered on the call button for the lift none of the cultists so much as made a move to follow even as the doors opened with a chime. Several hundred pairs of eyes watched them even as the doors closed with the very last of them being the soft grin of Fyodr leaning on his cane with the massive red moon in the backdrop.

Sparrow did not punch Tarkus, did not struggle or flinch or so much as speak. She simply stared into his eyes with her own, now saphire ones, with uncomfortable focus and clear agitation with a look on her face that said 'are you going to put me down or do I have to make you?'

Panting against the wall Tomoe lightly vomitted up bile and red flecks of what looked an awful lot like ingested blood while her partner helf her hair back and gently rubbed her back.

"Took you guys long enough!" She wheezed, Both twins eyes their normal faded almond color.

Now alot closer to inspect her the drenching of crimson on the dvati was clearly not her own and started at her mouth and down her top as if she had been sprayed after biting into something. Considering the lack of Magnus when they had re-entered from their bathroom break it didn't take alot to connect the dots on where all the blood had come from.

"We did not believe Tarko," Komoe deadpanned Tarkus name wrong clearly on purpose despite the situation, "Was oblivious to Fyodr The Blacks' affiliation and had assumed-"

"You just fucking verbally jousted with one of the heavy hitters of the 'Red Moon Cult', horn for brains!" His partner cut in. Clearly not expecting Tarkus or his sisters to understand she jabbed a finger directly at Sparrows direction.

"They're a fucking cult. Do you have any idea the kind of shit they do?!"

As telegraphed as it was, Tarkus attention had been on the twins for too long before Sparrow slowly cocked her head back and with a fluid motion connected her forehead with the bridge of his nose in a headbut; Forcing him to drop her from which she collected herself and gave the demon a 'serves you right' glare before crossing her arms.

"They end conflicts." She responded dryly Fyodrs previous claim.

Tarkus cursed and let go of Sparrow. "Seriously? Did you not just hear what they said?" With a flick of his finger, the blood lept off the twins and pooled in the demon's hand. "Also why would I know about all the random cults in the universe?!" He shot back at the twins.

Lotara and Verena moved forward and hugged the twins. " We can argue over Tarkus being stupid later." Lotara remarked as she and Verena checked the two over. "Right now we need to get back to the ship and get the hell out of here."

Tarkus ground his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. "When this is all over I'm going on vacation, by myself." Looking back to Sparrow once more, he tried to examine what, magically, was going on.

There was clearly more that needed to be said but the two remained silent. Sparrow, however continued her side of the argument.

"They did not show any overt hostility and even intervened in an altercation that would have resulted in violence otherwise. If anyone was hostile during all that it was not master Fyodr."

There was an edge to her tone at the accusation.

As it was when they ascended, the lift descended painfully slow.

"She's not going to listen." Komoe interjected, nodding towards Sparrows eyes. "Just keep her calm until we can get back to the ship; Hopefully before 'it' starts.

Tarkus grimaced then turned back to Komoe. "Any idea what 'it' is?" He asked.

Verena looked to Sparrow and nodded. "You're right hun. He was very accommodating..." she said placateingly, lying through her teeth.

"Nop." Tomoe shook her head while very clearly taking up the farthest possible corner from the proverbial time bomb in their midst. "The capatain did a few jobs for Fyodr and the moonies years back. Most of the time we just smuggled some of them into places and then booked it. Never saw how it went down or just what it was but every place the Red Moon Cult pops up alot of people die."

"We thought you understood this," Komoe continued, "Hence why we chose to follow you into an ongoing cult operation assuming you had some kind of plan or magic."

"Otherwise we would have ditched you and ran to the ship." Tomoe caught up again immedietly after, not even hesitating to declare they would have abandoned them all to save their own skin.

"Way we see it that satalite out there affects people. Not planar beings like you lot. And me 'n Komoe are warded down to the bones-"

"Literally." Komoe nodded. Tarkus at least semi aware of the invasive inscriptions carved onto each of the young dvati's very skeletons and from some expert guessing at a very dangerous and formative age.

"Yeah. So we cant really be charmed, enchanted, or influenced. That leaves the mundanes like the oaf here and probs about a few thousand station goers influenced by that thing out there... Oh and the tens if not hundreds of thousands of people in orbit and on the planet..."

While the twins explained what little they could guess of context Sparrow once again rejoined the conversation while her posture slowly became more and more guarded and rigid as the hackled rose on her once again.

"There is something on the other side of it, I can feel it. I wish to see it; You denied me this in the theater. I want to see it; We are not leaving before then at least."

Clearly out of sorts, Sparrow at least affected a petulent tone like normal.

Verena nodded. "When we get to the ship we can fly around to the otherside and we can all see it." She replied.

Tarkus rubbed ran a hand through his hair. "Well this is just fucking fantastic."

Lotara looked back to Tarkus. "If we do nothing tens of thousands will die."

"And if we don't get out of here, we may die right along with them." Tarkus shot back.

Lotara gave her brother a disapproving glances, then turned her attention to the twins. "They said it was a ritual. If we interrupted the casting could we stop the projection?"

"Think Fyodr said its been done a while." Komoe shook his head before looking to his partner who confirmed it.

"Yeah he said they's all whitnesses now to it. Plus..." She paused, looking tarkus up and down with a clearly dissapointed leer. "Dont think you can get it up against the kinds sparks that can summon a whole ass moon."

Before too much more could go on the lift finally started to slow before a cingle chime announced their destination after so long. The doors slid open with only a slight protest to reveal the giant red moon on the other side of the station and through the half-shielded wall that once always overlooked the planet.

There were alot of people milling about, staring at it with concern, confusion, or just plain staring with their onyx and saphire eyes in awe or amazement. It would have been easy to miss him in the now darker station with its less ambient light had his cane not reflected what little their was with a glint as Fyodr the black simply stood several douzen paces outside the lift to lean on his silver cane just as he had seen them last, clearly waiting for them.

He smirked at them expectantly.

"You little twirps, when we get back I..." Before Tarkus could finish his tirade, he spotted Fyodr. "Oh come on!" Taking several steps forward, Tarkus bared his scythe. "Get the kids back to the ship. I have score to settle."

Lotara looked like she wanted to protest but simply nodded and looked to the twins. "Let's go."

Verena took a hold of Sparrow and lifted off into the air once more. "Come on, I'm gonna show you that moon." She said flying off in the direction of the ship.

The cane lifted by only an inch when Fyodr tapped it back down where it made a much louder than normal tinning sound like striking a symbal. Wrents in the very fabric of space opened up through tears in reality as blackish-gray tentacles lashed out by the douzen.

The nearest to Fyodr were simply torn apart or crushed while the otherworldly appendages lunged skywards to wrap around the first the ankles or legs of the celestials before they could get overfar with their burdens before yanking them down and slamming them all down to the deck hard enough to knock the air out of the more mortal of them.

While the twins wheezed and flailed and groaned Lotara was lifted skywards again to likely slammed back down to the deck repeatedly.

Verena faired better as Sparrow rolled with the blow and sprung to her feet, using the momentum to pivot and drive a spinning kick into the tentacle. It was as innafective as kicking a rubber hose but allowed the celestial to pull free.

"Ah," Fyodr chuckled mirthfully as if he had forgotten something important. The appendages all seeimingly paused, including the one holding Lotara upsides down a douzen feet in the air to dangle her like a mistletoe.

"You are rejecting my invitation and hospitality now, are you not?"

The three let out cries of pain as they were pinned and struggled against the tentacles holding them. When they paused, Tarkus's eyes began to glow brightly. "I am!"

The scythe he had created burst into hundreds of globules of blood that circled around him. "I reject your invitation, your hospitality, and your fucking station. So piss off!" The blood that circled around him began firing off in every direction. Blood bullets shooting off towards the tentacles and several towards Fydor himself. At the same time, Lotara sliced the one holding her with a golden knife she had conjured.

With a mere tap of his cane on the deck once again the exsanguinated projectiles seemingly dissapeared but in reality solidified into an inky-black substance before evaporating before ever touching the old man.

"Shame." Was Fyodrs answer and with a heavyier tap of his cane the entire length of the intrument shifted and uncoiled as its length twisted slightly to unhouse thousands of razor-like blades twisted around its length. He tapped it several more times in quick sucession with each one opening new rifts around and behind him for otherworldly maws of teeth and void to spit out pools of black onto the floor which took shape into forms ranging from more tentacles to amorphous blobs of dark mass that undulated before pointed spike forms pressed out of their mass and coiled inside them like a spring.

The attack telegraphed the black spikes shot out like a railgun, narrowly missing Sparrow who was standing offsides to stare blankly at the moon.

The dvati twins, however, had already began to run down the ramp and abandoning all others for seemingly their own self preservation.

Tarkus cursed as his blood bullets disentigrated. Lotara had cut her way out of the tentacle and threw two daggers of light, each severing the tentacles holding her siblings. Tarkus shot forward, calling back "Grab Sparrow and follow the twins! I'll catch up." If his blood attacks didn't work he could always just hit the old bastard. His eyes glowed once more and he roared "Overclock!"

His muscles all bulged and the veins in his body were more pronuced as he forced his own blood to accept more oxygen than it was meant to. Closing in, he threw a right cross at Fydor's midsection with blinding speed.

While the blow landed the old mans body barely shifted back and tarkus momentum pushed strangely into him, deforming his skin and body like a boneless sack that simply absorbed the attack.

"Ȉ̷̢͙̼͖̟̥̗̘̟̯͔̝̱̓̍̈́̓́̀͒̈͐̃͗̒̐͘̕͜͝n̴̨̢̰͙̳̯̪̥̜̈̒̿́̐̿̆̎̓͑͘̚͝c̷̢̨͔͉̖͖̞̜̱͖͈̎̂͊̂̂̂̐̊̾̕ằ̵͈͇̞̜͓̈́ń̴̝̘͉̺͖͕͚̤́̈́͌̅̐͊̽͂͐́̃͊̀̇̚͜͝t̴̡͍̿͂͋̐͋̑͒͆̎̏̅͠͠ą̴̢͉̦̫͖̪̪͓̖͎̲̠͓̥̳͊̂̐̑͂̈̔͒̔̆͐̋̓̚͠ͅt̴̡̮̳͚̫̼̭̱̪̫̱̟̓͌̔̈́̓͂̏̋̏́͠͝͝ͅi̵̡̬̣͙̣̜̹͓̺̳̜̩̳̇́̒͆͛͗̒̊̾̇ǒ̷̢̡̡̦̼̲͓͚͎͔͕̳̥̙̰͐̍̅̀̀̄̀͗̈́̽̀͘͘ǹ̴̮̀̍̉̽̀̍̋͗̿s̸̡̘̦̰̤̹͔̥̱̣̯̈́̏͆̈́́͋͗͝͝͝?̶̧̧̢̠̱̫̗͓̻̫̼̺̥̏̅̌̋͘͘" The words came out barley distinguishable and with an unearthly scratching sound like it was broadcast through an old radio before his chest and gut began to push him back of its own accord as his body inflated back to its normal proportions.

"Most adept magi grow out of the need within a decade." His cane lifted, but this time he whipped it up like a blade to attempt to drag the many blades up Tarkus body and towards his face.

With blind speed, Tarkus lept back as his sister flew away from the battle. Verena scoped Sparrow up and continued to fly away as Tarkus moved back in to launch a flurry of blows on the old man. "Oh just shut up already!" Tarkus spat, throwing several more punches at the man.

The fight between Tarkus and Fyodr faded into the background as thew two Celestials were able to glide down the ramps using the stations gravity to build momentum. Beneath them hundreds still yet stared at the moon in a mix of emotions as whatever was on the other side of it was felt even by the two of them as a sense of imepending finality weighed heavy on them from its direction.

Not everyone stared absently, however. As it lingered for longer and longer and its mystery held the tension visibly grew in the station as artificial paranoia set in with already on edge individuals lashing out at one another over the smallest of perceived slights.

Not too far ahead the dvati twins caused more than a few of these scuffles as the two tiny forms shoved or checked or triggered a tide of individuals with not a small amount even chasing after the two in retribution. One such man was clearly quicker to react than some others and managed to wrench Komoe away from his partner by the shoulder and slam him against a wall.

It lasted only a second when the perceived victim slammed a small pencil-sized flute through his eye as his partner reacted just as fast to deliver a kick with the bottom of her foot to the back of the mans knee causing him to double over and let go of Komoe. The delay had cost them dearly however when six men who had not lost their trail caught up and fell upon the two.

Lotata and Verena summoned weapons into their hands once more as the six assailants attacked the twins. Lotara swooped down to stab out with a golden longsword. At the same time Verena chanted, causing spears of light to fire from her staff and into the other three men.

In a suprising display of fervor the crowd not only did not acknolwedge the attack from behind but continued on with fanatical abandon on the two prone forms. The only respite was that only a few could get at the twins at once who kicked and bit and even stabbed out with small weapons at the legs and grouns and ankles of those around them causing a buffer between them and the entire crowd.

Before the two celestials could get too close a shift occured when someone managed to pull one of the twins, unseen to which one, off the ground and seemed to try to drag them towards the edge of the ramp to likely toss them over.

The Dvati wrestled for a moment before finally bringing the small flute to their lips and blowing. A small spurt of blood came out the end of the bone-carved instrument followed by a tuneless shriek of otherworldly shrieks.

The first thing that happened was a small every-shifting bubble seemed to push out from the epicenter and pushed back an unseen tint to the world around them of grays and reds to create a small amount of realspace around who now appeared to by Komoe at a closer glance as every one of the crazed people dropped to their knees and held their heads in pain with the ones who could be seen having their eyes return to normal if bloodshot.

The next was that in this space there was simply nothing as the Celestials wings, weapons, wards, and magics simply left them inviolate and dropped them to the deck feeling unnaturally weak with the connection to their tethers in the mortal world temporarily severed in the bubble.

Komoe kept blowing, their face turning first red with exertion then getting paler and paler before they collapsed with the small bone flute shattering before it even touched the ground. When it happened their partner was there to catch them but the pervasivness of the world around them before unfelt rushed back in as the artefacts effect crumbled and all power and magic returned to the space both good and ill.

The crowd, some eyes turning black again when glancing at the moon and others moaning on the ground from the experience made no move further towards the two.

"Holy fuck, you guys tottally killed those guys!" Tomoe shouted at the two prone angles, sounding more impressed than shocked. "Also we should maybe get out of here now before someone tries to shank us..."

The two fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap. They slowly rose as Tomoe began their rapid fire questions. "We couldn't let them hurt you guys." Lotara replied, helping Verena to her feet.

Verena shook her head, attempting the clear the fog. "Tarkus is fighting with Fyodr. He's keeping the old guy distracted so we can get away." She said moving to Komoe to help them up. "Also your right we need to keep moving. Let's go." She said as Lotara moved to Komoe's other side and helped them up.

There was little enough time to loiter but still even as the upper levels above them began to shake and metal girders were knocked down to fall into the lower levels the twins spared a sorrowful glance for the broken artefact they had wasted. They spared a look for each other before brows began to knit and the two mortal twins looked around in confusion.

"Where is Sparrow?" Komoe asked, looking towards Verena and her sister.

Around them were just bodies and the prone forms of former assailants but nowhere to be seen was the usually standout form of the nekomata.

Verena and Lotara's heads whipped around at the realization. Lotara turned to her sister. "What happened? You were holding her!?"

Verena continued to frantically look around. "She must have ran off when we fell out of the sky." The angel replied.

"Fantastic... just fantastic." Lotara grumbled. "Quick we need to find her."

"We could just go." Tomoe offered.

"She could very well be waiting at the Spriggan." Her partner agreed.

It lasted all of three seconds under the withering gazes of the celestials before the two looked away with false expressions of penitent shame.

"The boss will kill us if we ditch her baby sister in a station full of psychos."

"Not that we really have the time to-" The twins were cut off as a part of the floor collapsed with a black oily tentacle the thickness of a car thrashing about as the violence above them drew closer and closer.

With an uncharactaristicly feminine shriek from the both of them, including Komoe the two of them ascented and started the only way left they could go; Down.

Meanwhile, a couple floors above them absolute chaos reigned as Tarkus was slowly pushed back onto the defensive. Fyodr the black was not overtly powerful compared to someone like himself. But for some reason every blow, every strike that connected with the seemingly elderly mortal was akin to striking a bag full of sand and simply deformed or cut straight through his body without so much of a trace of blood only to reform as if it had never transpired.

Even now the old man gingerly advanced on him at a sedate pace, leaning on his barbed razor cane as he ambled on; The weapon suprisingly effective as it changed from a blunt cane, to a razor-lined club, to even extending like a razor whip to deal deep bloody wounds on Tarkus. Were it not for his profession and expertise in the blood and his unqiue constitution he would have been slowed and torn apart by the tears in reality around the old man spewing otherworldly horrors of ink and ichor.

"Awful cliche, dont you think?" The old man continued to chat casually as another massive appendage whipped out to smash the deck plates where Tarkus had been just a moment before.

"Everyone wants to weild a scythe or one of those fancy eastern-swords. Its all the rage with kids these days. They never fought in a war, never in the line of battle with spear or pistol; They just dont appreciate the fundimentals of good utility and just pick up the gaudiest-"

The old man shifted his neck back, the blade of Tarkus' weapon missing his neck by mere decimeters.

Lowering back down as Tarkus dodged back to avoid a counter from the razor-lined weapon he simply smirked knowingly and continued to shuffle on.

"Like I said; Utility."

Tarkus grew increasing frustrated by the old man's antics. "Do you ever stop talking?!"

The demon's scythe burst back into several globules once more before coalescing into two long whips, thorns protruding at regular intervals.

With flicks of his hands, he sent one at Fydor's neck, and one at his cane.

Obscured by the thrash of a tentacle Tarkus was unable to see the result of his initial attack even if he felt the actual blow. When he pulled back an ivory and silver object flew directly at him if casually as Fyodr simply vanished and the cane flew into Tarkus hands.

The whips dispersed as Tarkus caught the cane. "What the hell...?" He looked down at the cane, the around at his surroundings. "Where that old geezer go?"

In a sudden flash of pain the cane exploded out in a storm of whipping razors in Tarkus hands causing it to drop from his grasp. When he looked back down Fyodr was simply there, hand on the leg of the cane once again and with a feral grin ripped the weapon up to attempt to split the demon in half at the groin.

Tarkus's hands were torn to shreds as Fydor appeared. With a flap of his wings the demon shit backwards and out of Fydor reach. As he did, his hands slowly knit themselves back together. "I'm getting so tired of your shit..."

With a loud clang of ivory against the metal plates of the deck the old man leaned weaily on his aid as the mass of horrors behind him swayed rythmically around like agitated reeds in the wind.

"It does get tiring, does it not?" His grin dropped to show the weary expression he wore on his aged face.

"Theres always someone like you. Halting the march of progress towards our future. If you ask me its some cosmic karma to ballance the scales of our actions. As much as I tire of the cliche I will admit to an irony all my own just this once and admit; We arent so different, you and I."

Tarkus sighed as his the skin on his hands finally grew back. "I may have been like you once upon a time. But a few thousand years brings things into perspective. Now I can see that you're nothing but a petulent child reaching for power, to create your 'ideal utopia.'" He replied.

"Oh, no, you misunderstand!" Fyodr chuckled, cane tapping a rythmn on the deck. "I meant we are alike in the sense that I too was once an edgy youth with delusions of heroism and that my path was the one all true warriors of light must trod."

"But that is where the simularities end." He slowly raised his gaze to look Tarkus right in the eyes, the narrow black slits of his shining with a dangerous glint.

Before it could be deciphered pain exploded up the demons knee from behind forcing him down onto it. Reflexively he turned to confront the attack from behind just as something smashed into his face hard enough to shatter his nose and explode his vision into stars.

Sliding across the deck his body had already begun to heal and knit itself back together as from one side the slow shuffle of cane and foot and on another a slow and steady confident stride of heavy footfalls until two blurry forms stood over his distorted vision.

"I already had my utopia." Fyodr finished, his words almost sounding underwater. "And now we of the sanguinette seek to preserve the peace we once had. By removing these wars, these corrupt, these misguided souls who pine to the words of uncaring and ambivilent gods like chattle to the butchers blade."

Standing over Tarkus was not just Fyodr the black. But also Sparrow Therewood; Her eyes obsidian black and saphire blue as they looked down with harsh and uncaring intensity. When his sisters and the twins had went down the station to look for her and towards their escape Sparrow...

One slipped sliding back ever so slightly the Nekomata delivered a devistating kick directly into the demons gut. But instead of sending him flying she continued her momentum to lift him up into the air. There was a moment of weightlessness against the pain before her elbow caught him in the back and sent him slamming back down to the deck with a visible bounce.

"Oh, I like this one." Fyodr chuckled as he casually placed the tip of his cane under the demons chin to lift it up ever so slightly to look up at them. There was clear annoyance on the old mans face at the signs of recovery already forming as bruises seemed to fade and blood stopped gushing as he drew power from the vitae of his own lost blood back into himself.

"You on the other hand. The regeneration types are always the most troublesome. Body, blood, life; Always such a hassle to put your lot down. But not impossible."

 

[Char]

Tarkus didn't have air in his lungs to scream out in pain as his body exploded in agony. Despite it all, one thought passed through his mind. 'Did this guy seriously call me an edge lord...? A warrior of the light...!?' Despite it all Tarkus chuckled breathlessly.

"You seriously think I give a shit about this place? I wanted to leave a long time ago. But my stupid sisters wouldn't listen. And on top of it all, I have to listen to you spout bullshit."

Drawing all the spilt blood back into his body, he gave the old man a devilish grin. With a burst of speed, he kicked out and forced Sparrow back, allowing Fydors cane to catch him under the chin and slice his neck open.

Even as the blood poured out his neck he flew up into the sky and continued to smile as his neck nit back together. "Kid gloves are coming off." Held out his hands and chanted "Moonlight harvest!" Blood from the abundant dead bodies nearby began to flow out and fly up towards Tarkus, pooling in his hands.

"Are so you shrewd to deny old man at the end of his life some simple conversation in his day?"

The old man continued to needle Tarkus while remaining still, a glint in his eye. Even sparrow keeping a cautious distance while she simply paced back and forth with a laser focus on Tarkus.

"So insular. You should speak to strangers more often, open up a little mo-"

As blood continued to flow up towards him, 3 balls of blood began to form, circling around himself. Tarkus spoke once more, ignoring Fydor. "Simulacra." The 3 orbs grew out to create perfect copies of Tarkus. The 4 blood demons held their hands out and continued to take in more blood from their surroundings before all chanting in unison "Overclock!" All of their muscles strained beneath their skin and veins bulged as they increased the blood circulating through their bodies.

They all stared down at Fyodr and Sparrow and again spoke in unison. "Yeah, to hell with that. People have a tendency to piss me off." With that said, each held out a hand towards Fyodr. "Hemorrhage!" The four blood demons unleashed a massive torrent of blood.

Torrents of blood ravaged the exact spot Fyodr stood as the attack reached its ultimate conclusion. When the wavy wisps of humid steam subsided enough the only thing left was the ivory cane standing straight up only to tilt to the side and clatter to the ground with visible steam radiating off of it.

As the clones stumbled at the expendeture it cost, one of the Tarkus' looked up just in time to see Sparrow behind the counterpart across from him; Arm already pulled back as a palm struck out with devistating force into the soft spot at the back of the demons head. The strike completely disrupted its cohesion and began to melt back into a crimson pool.

Not losing the advantage Sparrow closed the distance to the nearest target and pivoted on one heel to throw her momentum and shatter what would have been the jaw of the next clone before following up with a quick hop as she wrapped both thighs around his neck and head and flung him to the ground while pinning his neck between the calf and outer thigh that when landing on her knees visibly wrenched his head and neck into an unsurviveable angle.

Cold, uncaring eyes with intense focus locked onto the final two Tarkus' with no sign of lunacy or madness but instead the usual apathy the Nekomata showed when she sparred with Klaus or any of the others within her capability range.

Sparrow Therewood; The nemesis-sage, supreme matriarch of the Therewood Clan, purified embodiment of strength, and shrined maiden rose slowly and menacingly above the melting forms of her two victims before the first had even hit the floor and stood within striking range of the other two already but instead opted to look between them and out towards the moon.

Not only did it still turn but a rising tension had reached a near crescendo as something lingered closer to inevitability like an impending countdown there was something that even Tarkus could feel approaching that assaulted the very sanity of any who paid it attention let alone when whatever it was revealed itself on the turning of the celestial body.

But her focus was not gone. And like a rodent before a snake Sparrow slowly coiled her posture inwards in building force as her eyes turned ever so slowly to the real Tarkus.

Tarkus grunted at the expenditure of the spells he casted. Only the cane remained again. Odd... unfortunately he didn't have time to question that as Sparrow was killing his Simulacras, and that damn moon was still assaulting everyone's mind. They needed to end this and get everyone home.

Tarkus and his remaining doppleganger looked back to Sparrow and held a hand up. After the spell their was large pools of blood all around. The pools began to ripple before tendrils flew out attempting to grab at Sparrows arms and legs. "Enough Sparrow. I've had enough! It's time to go home. And I'm telling your sister about all of this!" He yelled, frustrated it all. He hoped the mention of her family would snap her out of the mental fog she was in.

As the blood shout out towards her, the two blood demons moved in opposite directions to flank the nemesis sage.

Sparrows body moved with a fluid grace as the sanguine fluid gilded over her with failed purchase as limbs twisted to corkscrew her form to roll with the momentum of the attempted shackling.

While still in motion one slipped pivoted while another deftly hooked and then tossed the only nearby object up to her hands as Fyodrs' cane was twisted into a batters stance as she swung wide to hook under the ankle of one of her targets and yanked causing him to stumble while she performed a risque split under the still freeflowing blood only to swing her legs wide and out before launching herself forwards.

There was enough distance to spell or counter for Tarkus, and on instinct as his hands raised he might have done just that. But at the same time while telegraphing a palm strike in her usual pugilism she instead followed through to twist her body, carrying the entire weight and momentum of her right hand with her as she took an explosive step forward and esentially launched herself from a near standstil twice the distance to deliver a solid elbow into the kidney of the demon.

Still not done she brought a leg up straight at the knee and delivered the toe of her slipped directly into his chin. When the foot came back down it nearly disloacted a shoulder. Then blow by blow Sparrow brough out her full tenacity as she delivered sewing machine strikes to Tarkus with unrelenting tenacity.

Kidneys, the throat, temples, pressure points, and especially the face she hammered him over and over to break his concentration and any magical attempts. Had she her poleyns, her graves, or her gauntlents the demon would likely have been dissoluted back into an infernal plain by now from a body-death but instead she simply wore down his regenerative functions and consitution with sheer unending force of fist, palm, knee, elbows, and even her head. And finally, even when his mind told him it could keep going the demon finally lurched back and started to fall back only to be caught at the collar as Sparrow held him half limp and with almost cruel indifference brought a palm back as far as she could for one final blow just as Tarkus was able to register his back against the railing the dropped to the very bottom of the station and what she intended.

 

[Char]

There was no time for a spell, and even healing as he was already though his magic and tether no time enough for words.

But it mattered little as through blurry vision Tarkus could see a form behind Sparrow as three somwhat familiar forms moved up on her.

By the time the Nekomata noticed and dropped Tarkus to his knees to pivot and deliver a brutal side kick it was too late as her bare shin connected with armored hardsuit of a man as his two amazonian comrades each launched themselves at Sparrow. One absorbed a palm strike to the jaw with a grunt of pain while the other managed to grab her still outstretched leg and try to pull her off her ballance.

"Hey, horned one, you dead?!" The armored man growled and opened his mouth to continue until Sparrow twisted her other leg to, in mid air, kick him in the gut and pull herself free.

Unlike some, the three new arrivals seemed hale and of their right minds as their normal if bloodshot eyes could attest.

Tarkus groaned. He was gonna need to restart his combat training, because this showing was embarrassing. "Nah, I'll live." He responded as he forced himself to draw more blood back into his body. He didn't have the strength for any cosmetic fixes but he was able to stem the worst of the major injuries. "She's gonna owe me big time..."

Looking up to the Amazonians, he nodded in appreciation. "Thanks for the save. I'll see what I can do about the moon." He said standing. Looking over to Fydor's cane, he examined it more closely.

The cane lay where it had fallen previously on the deck not more than a few steps away. Its ivory make was polished so cleanly to a sheen that the gloss reflected the very ambient red light that siffused the interior of the station.

There was no sign of the mechanism that caused it to transform into its razor length or whip but the very object reeked of some kind of unidentified magic only in the sense that one could understand a fire was hot from feeling the heat it eminated if not touching the flames directly.

Other than this it was a simple and unnadored silver-white cane with no visible marks or inscriptions. A simple essay and the previous holding the cane without issue allowed Tarkus to pick it up while the three still struggled to subdue an increasingly violent Sparrow who remained just as hard to pin down as before. The object felt cold; An unnatural, otherworldly cold that did not fit in the current stations climate or the formerly hot torrent of steaming exsanguination it and its weilder had been subject to further only reinforcing that it was at the very least some form of masterwork to be matched to someone as powerful as a mortal like Fyodr.

Turning it over, however, there was a slight glint in the surface that begged closer inspection prompting Tarkus to bring it ever so closer to inspect it. Despite not being more than glossed over the ivory there was the very slightest reflection or imperfection that drew the eye.

When he brought it close enough to see in the dim red light of the station Tarkus could just see his own reflection and a distorted form as of yet undetected poised right behind him; The uncanny whites of an old mans grin flashing in the reflection of the cane as he raised a hand above his head and behind Tarkus to strike.

Tarkus cursed, diving forward as to avoid whatever it was Fydor was trying to do. As he did, the doctor's eyes glowed bright as the pools of blood around then began shooting blood arrows towards the old bastard. "Would you just die already!?" Tarkus yelled, rolling to his feet.

The cane in Tarkus's hand felt... wrong. Almost as if it was not supposed to be here. Not even in this plane of existence... He glanced down at the cane again. Could this be Fydor's source of power? Was it coming from the cane?

Glancing down was the only thing that allowed Tarkus to notice in time that the Fyodr he thought he saw was incorporeal at best and that right next to him, hand slowly closing around the pommel of the weapon was the old man himself in solidifying form as if appearing from a mirage. As his hand closed around the cane his body became whole and tangible fully as the now tiring grin split his face as he now stood mere inches away from Tarkus and well within his guard.

"Too slow, boy." He grinned, as a surge of power seemed to flow up the cane itself and through his body where his hand, palm flat, and fingers pointing down guided it to the decking at their feet as a tear in reality formed right beanth them and before Tarkus could escape tendrils of inky black eldritch horror coiled up the length of his legs and waist and began pulling him slowly down into its depths like an impossibly cold pool of thick and viscious tar.

As he was pulled down without the chance to break free the taller demon was brought down the the level of the seemingly mortal old man to look him briefly in the eyes. While he was grinning the smile did not reach the old mans eyes and only a black empty hollowness of someone playing a role in a play with emotions they do not feel met the infernals eyes.

"We will take care of them; Give them a purpose, a home, a new family. " He offered, the tone and implication clearly meaning two specific women in his life and maybe his comrades from Eselberg. "You've done enough, boy. Time for a long rest."

Tarkus gasped as he was pulled down into the black pool. It felt like his body was slowly being submerged in a frozen lake. He struggled against the restraints even as Fydor spoke. If he didn't do something soon, he was a dead man. "You aren't going to touch them. You aren't going to lay a finger on any of them!" With the last of his strength, he bit his finger and summoned another simulacra, which dove straight for Fydor's cane.

If he destroyed it, maybe... just maybe he'd be able to get out if this mess. All the casting he was doing was finally catching up with him. His face looked gaunt, eyes sunken, and face pale. If his simulacra couldn't wrestle the cane away and destroy it, there wasn't much left he could do.

The clone managed to grasp the cane if a bit innafectually as the old man spared barely a glance, his grip iron and the material the weapon was made of not so much as bending to his meager strength more than a modicum to force let alone magical probing.

Before his neck was just submerging and the cold feeling reached his chin something unexpected happened. The armored man, aiding his two female comarades had moved to previously aid in subduing Sparrow when Fyodr had reappeared, clearly too far and occupied to intervene the old man had discounted them right up until the man had gotten a hold of Sparrows legs and swung her as easily as a child at Fyodr like the wide arc of a battleaxe.

While the Nekomata was rather light, she passed through the old man as easily as most of Tarkus attacks had before and even managed to slip out of his grip before rolling a ways away and back onto her feet. She staggered only dizzy for a few steps before charging back at them with leaping bounds.

Free of their burden the two massive amazonians grabbed what they could of Tarkus; A ear and around the throat from one and his horns from the other and began pulling with all their might. They were slowly freeing him by inches at best but at least he bought a few seconds.

The armored man had not been idle either, and had closed on Fyodr before Sparrow could catch up to them and was reaching for the cane; Clearing reading something from Tarkus desperate efforts, when a mass of tentacles burst fromt beanthe the deck plating and began entangling him first at the thighs and then the waist, shoulders, arms, and even around his neck and began to visibly constrict.

He was just out of reach when they began pulling him back and even some tentacles began pulling in oposite directions as he grit his teeth and eventually began to scream and menacing popping and crunching sounds began to be heard as his limbs began to be contorted into all the wrong angles.

Arm still extended out to grasp at an object he would never reach, his eyes turned to the still barely afloat demon and fighting against the tendril crushing his windpipe managed to sputter out the word "Blood"

It took all of a second to realize even in the dark red lighting of the evil moon what was pooling from his nose, his mouth, ears, from exposed bones rupturing out of sockets as they were crushed, what was pouring from his tear ducts and down his face as his body was crushed like a bag of glass.

All rushing down his body and filling up his hardsuit to leak out of gaps as seals were ruptured and pooling at his feet...

 

[Char]

Tarkus groaned as the amazons pulled him out by his horns and ears but he was thankful none the less. It was then that the armored man was brutally crushed by Fydor's magic. "No..." was all Tarkus could manage. At the man's word, Tarkus looked back and nodded. 'I will make your sacrifice worth it.' He thought. With a flash of Tarkus's eyes the blood from the man began flowing out from his wounds and into Tarkus.

With a burst of magical aura, Tarkus had shifted to the man's side, severing the tendrils with an arc of blood. Laying the man on the ground, the demon turned. With a snap of his fingers, bloody tendril flew forward from Tarkus's sleeve. "I'm done with these games Fyodr. I'm going to enjoy ruining everything you built." Tarkus didn't care about the station. He didn't care about the system. But when Fydor said he would take 'them' next... It was going to bring the demon immense pleasure to completely ruin this bastard.

Either finally tired of their interactions or finally taking Tarkus seriously the old man tapped his cane once as the simulacrum of Tarkus exploded into black smoke with a distant scream of ether and the two were momentarily alone. It was ensured when all around them for several feet rifts opened up and seperated them from the charging Sparrow and the two surviving women who had arrived to help with the now late man in the armor as walls of seething mass ensured their showdown was undisturbed.

With a tap of his cane as more rifts opened to strike out at Tarkus.

When the blood moon Sanguinette had turned and revealed a horror none could see but all could feel the station had filled with screams. Exaltation mixed with horror and insanity as man, woman, beast, and otherworldly kin were released from their moral inhibitions and the bloodletting had begun.



Comrades either turned upon one another or against others in a mixture of coordinated or random violence as the two cruisers in space went silent as their crews tore themselves apart before several random smaller starships rammed them or other such vessels or simply fired upon nothing.

It was not a true loss of self. As the inner mind and instinct drove an outside perspective to seem as though one had simply been pushed to far into the fatal conclusion of consequence on a grand scale. Mercenary corporations tactically cleared out entire floors of the station with extreme skill and bleeding eyes while in other cases lovers tore the very eyes from their partners.

It was abhorent. It was gruesome. It was the release of lifetimes of slights, sufferings, and every small piece of tension that the very mind if not soul craved greater release to cleanse itself and be born pure anew.

Even beings like Tarkus and the Twins were not immune to it. But it did not drive them insane like most and instead needled at their convictions and tethers to something greater and familiar in a concerning way.

Tomoe and Komoe had finally succumed when it started raining blood from the top of the station and seeped through the very cracks and seems and drove even the warding of the two Dvati to the test until even they had to be restrained and sudued after trying to inflict a strange dark-black fluid that reeked of some kind of infernal agent from a small bottle into a dart that had narrowly missed Lotara. The box they had found containing it had another, one with a silver-gold fluid of some Celestial nature, and a very powerful tranqulizer laying truth to one of Fyodrs previous comments about trusting the nature of such beings and their indoctrinations.

As hours passed and the screams and echos resounded throughout the station and it rocked with explosions and damage something had passed as the pressure ebbed away after the feeling of eternity.

From their hiding place in a sealed deep-freezer now powerless and rather humid the twins could feel the passing of whatever pervasive force had held its sway over the station. The other twins, Komoe and Tomoe while still silent and restrained were no longer watching them concerningly with onyx and saphire eyes but instead their own dull hazel glossed over as they stared off aimlessly in a daze as if still half in a dream.

Outside the freezer, someone was weeping.

It had all gone to hell.

Lotara and Verena huddled in empty freezer along with the twins who they had subdued after Fydor's spell had finally triggered.

The truth had dawned on both of them very quickly as they hid.

Tarkus was right.

They should have left the system the moment he said they should leave. Now they were paying the price for their folly. They weren't even sure where he was, or if he was still alive.

They were silent as the lay there, huddled together until they finally heard a noise. It was the sound if crying. Carefully, Lotara popped the lid slowly just wide enough so she could see what was going on.

The resturant stall and all beyond it was dark after the lights had gone out long ago. It was frankly a miracle the station had not been torn apart or ruptured and exposed to the void. Dim, pale, emergency lighting flickered here and there only enough to break ones natural night vision.

There were sounds outside as well. Distant and sporatic shouts of concern instead of horror that were responded to with some kind of coordination, loud clangs of metal on metal as the strained stations warped interior occasionally dropped scaffolding or girders or catwalks down to clamber somwhere else.

But above all else there was a closer sound somwhere a few feet away as someone sat at one of the few barstools on the other side of the stall and with his head burried in his arms leaning against the countertop was making a wheezing sound that was a mixture between crying and sobbing laughter.

A knocking over of bottles and the barely noticeable man in the dim light knocked back a swig from some glass bottle before plunging it back down with a thunk of glass on varnished wood with a gasp of air before he rubbed tears from his eyes and finally noticed Lotara peaking out.

"Sorry." He choked out at her between still uncontained sobs. "You want one?"

He offered the bottle of liquor neck first before there was a sound of boots on the deck and a woman in a torn up buisness suit and covered in blood from the blouse downwards flopped down a few stools over to look over the counter and rummage around until she found a barcloth and with that began giving herself a wet-bath with the rag and a bottle of water.

She looked like she was about to throw up when the first man turned the offer to her instead as she waved him off.

"Cant stand the stuff!" She made a faux-gag as she began cleaning the inside of the blouse under her top before also noticing the peaking Celestial.

"You ok, lady?" The woman asked, both hers and the first mans eyes normal and uncorrupted as behind them a couple other people clambered by in some sort of conversation just out of earshot.

Lotara was dumbfounded as she slid the freezer open and slid out, revealing Verena and the twins who she was still covering. "What is going on? Everything was going to hell when we hid." Lotara said as Verena slowly made her way out still holding onto the twins.

"You didn't see the giant planet-" The man started, exhasperated before being interupted by the woman.

"It was a moon I think."

"You didnt see the giant MOON just appear out of nowhere and..." He drifted off, shuddering, though as it would seem from his next words not out of trauma. "Well you missed out. Ive never felt so... Never been so..."

"You just get it." The woman continued on, running out of napkins for her cleaning. "Its like everything was just put into perspective, that it all just makes sense now; That it all has meaning and purpose."

The two of them started chatting meaningfully on their newfound outlook on life despite the clear massacre and magical terrorism that had taken place just hours before.

"There is purpose to what we do." a new voice spoke and a woman seemed to coalesce out of the lightless depths of the station and join them, sparing a curious glance for the two sets of twins but no overy hostility and instead just sly suprise that they had made it.

"Purpose to what we 'will' do." The woman who had been in the makeshift gladiator fight with the other cultists in the theater responded and offered her hands to the two as other forms seems to shift by with other survivors and bystanders in tow as more and more cultists seemed to congregate towards survivors and begin aiding them and guiding them towards spots of makeshift light as triage and collection points starts springing to so fast they had to been planned and prepared ahead of time.

"Go now, help any others you find there may yet be wounded still." She ordered the two bargoers who started off without protests.

 

[Char]

"You too should be going." She spoke to the four of them but lacked any of the hostility one might expect and instead spoke with casual patience. "As soon as those who whitnessed the Sanguinette are collected and chose to adhere to its cause we will leave this place. The wars here are over and it is no longer needed to support them; We will scour it and all that remains so that this world may yet heal in time."

Slowly, she turned to leave and began walking towards a form huddled with his head in his hands against a nearby railing and began speaking softly, the former adversaries now forgotten or ignored.

The trip back to the ship was a tense and confusing one. All throughout the station teams of cultists paid them no mind more than a glance and no overt hostility as they treated wounded with magic and first aid alike, and guided cathartic survivors in the same general direction towards the ship docks where lines had slowly formed as seemingly normal and unconcerned survivors of the slaughter chatted away, laughed, and seemed eager to depart.

Very-very few seemed like Lotara or Verena. A few once-mercenaries kept their distance and made a sprint past them to wherever their ships likely were, and a few clearly magical beings who had likely endured the blood moon as well followed suite. None in their right minds had any indication to stay on Falke Station and were getting off as soon as possible.

When they finally reached the doors to their ships berth it was unclear what they would find. When a burst of energy struck right where Lotaras head would have been had she not pulled back at the last moment it might have very well snuffed her off the mortal realm.

"Identify yourselves." A familiar voice demanded in a stoic monotone from inside the hangar.

Lotara was about to reply with a "No shit Sherlock..." when the cultists arrived. She was about to pull a weapon but then saw they weren't hostile. After this, the sisters stared at each other. Without saying another word to the angels shepherd the twins quickly back towards the ship. The last few days felt like a seriously fucked up fever dream.

"Can you sense Tarkus?" Lotara asked as they walked.

"No, I haven't sensed him yet. I hope he's okay." Verena replied.

When they heard the voice in the hanger, they stopped cold. "Sparrow?" Verena asked as they attempted to locate the voice.

"Step out, slowly. Show me your eyes." Came the reply after a long pause. Carefully approaching the Sadistic Spriggan was right where it had been left and some of its ambient lighting cast just enough shadows within to hide the Nekomata when she finally revealed herself.

Her cheongsam had been replaced with a tight fitting black body glove with her usual greaves boots and leggings that each had viscious studs at critical striking points like brass knuckles on the knees, heels, and foot.

With her darker skin tone and hair, and dark tacticalwear she practically slipped out of the darkness to pull off a tactical visor and watch them at a distance with a paticularly long lance-rifle in her hands trained right at them.

Her eyes were seemingly normal and no longer possessed and upon seeing they were the same lowered her weapon and practically leaped at them into a too-tight embrace. Finally pulling off of them she spared a glance for the still traumatized Dvati who just shuffled past with some intiative and began examining the exterior of their ship with silent tones.

"There has been no sign yet of Tarkus Zoren" Sparrow shook her head as the elevator began descending from the ship at the twins call as light from the interior of the ship bathed the hangar breifly in warm light.

Elsewhere on the station, a necklace laid atop a pile of rubble. It laid inert for a time, but began glowing softly. With a flash of light, Tarkus appeared laying atop the rubble. He looked worse for wear, his face paler and eyes slightly sunken. "Well that sucked..." He murmured, slowly rising from the pile he has been laying on.

In the midst of the fight, Tarkus had resorted to using his final trumpcard. Tarkus was forced to use the Siren's Heart, which was actually a Philosopher Stone. A magic item which allowed the wearer to cheat death. However it could only work one time.

Unfortunately, this meant that he lost... to the arrogant prick. He was going to have to process that one, but for now he needed to get out of this forsaken place. He reached down and grabbed the necklace, but as soon as he touched it, the necklace crumbled in his hand.With a muttered curse, he wiped his hand on his pants and left the rubble pile.

Making his way back to the ship, he appeared behind his companions as they were speaking about him. "I'm right here." He said tiredly.

His sisters whirled around and hugged him tightly.

Tarkus gave them a quick hug then looked to the others. "Can we leave now?" He asked simply, moving towards the ship before anyone could answer him. He was so damn tired...

As the Spriggan took off, its pilots took a somber vigil at the controls as they expertly wove the corvette through the aftermath and debris of a calamity that befrell not just those of Falke station as hundreds of vessels lay either in destroyed heaps or in multiple peices. Even the two cruisers that had been duking it out the day before had finally finished their quarrel and floated still as the grave in what was left.

There was no signals, no communications from the planet bellow; Once holding the corporate armies of hundreds of thousands fighting over the pointless ball of mud now driven mad and feral until they tore each other apart in one final gorefest of a battle from which that survived if any their fates unkown.

The moon was gone long since as they neared the exit of the system and eventually out of it for the long trip back to eselberg station, to home. It would be a silent several weeks as they each processed the events in different ways.

For some it was somber silence or brooding. Others it was to give passive reassurance and love, for the twins it was to simply lock the cockpit from the inside and share only in the intimacy that two so closely bonded as they could.

For one, however, stoic and immoveable as a rock her thoughts were locked behind the deadpan that Sparrow always wore even as she lay alone and unobserved in her bunk. The twins had been affected but had no seen 'it'. Tarkus in his battle with the old man Fyodr seemed to have not encountered 'it', and the two celestial twins seemed the most immune and clearly had not.

But Sparrow had seen 'it'.

She had fallen under the pervasive and corruption of an otherworldly force and had lost her mind as it had been subject to the lack of inhibitions of another. She had not seen the things she had done, was not fully aware. Because Sparrow Therewood had been elswhere' Literally.

For what she did not understand others might call a vision or an out of body experience. But it was real to her and she had been on the moon; The Sagnuinette. With others, tens if not hundreds of thousands who had looked upon the visage of the blood moon and even if they could not have seen it physically had perceived something upon its surface that the mind and soul recoiled at.

And as a part of the spell they were now 'there'

It was a street, or perhapse had once been. Rubble and the shells of once proudly standing homes flashed like a bolt of lightning between restored and destroyed as their subconcious lived out a nightmare from the very beginning.

They watched a civilization fall; Tearing itself apart with paranoid insanity and like rapid animals. They watched the masses and mobs run themselves to death all trying to reach something they could not yet see but knew to be nearby and sought it out to kill, to worship, to stop, to fight, to eat, to destroy it.

And when they saw it their very souls were extinguished at the very presense of a man no greater than any but more grand that the very sun as his form seemed the size of a child and also that of the very heavens themselves.

And when the peoples greatest champions banded together against and in their madness and finally slew what was a primal concept itself in the form of a feral god they too were warped by it.

They watched as eight champions stood around its corpse, the very macabre form of the being once a god still holding power by its very concepts it embodied. They had slain it, but the madness would never end, and would drive their people to their deaths until only they, who had reached some threshhold they could now understand would stand alone upon a moon they once called home now wreathed in oceans of blood.

It had been a god of war, of carnage, of conflict. And when the people of the Sanguinette had finally united and learned of peace and progress it had stirred when no longer was it fed. The eight had come up against the very embodiment of the concept of war and conflict and had bested it at the ultimate cost of not only their people and their home but their very minds and even souls as they were now intrinsically linked to the now dead god.

So they all stood around a corpse the size of a man but also that of a skyscraper as it lay; A hundred-thousand-million rods forever piercing its form into the ground as its outstretched hand a mile but also mere meters away lay palm up as a form sat in its palm and studied those brought before the trophy worth an entire worlds dead.

'She' was not an apt descriptor of the figure. For one who slew a god and delivered the killing blow could not be unknown to them. She was 'Marin Tempestarii' The Weather Witch who slew a god. And behind and around her stood six of the eight who aided her and watched them all with black eyes and saphire irises.

Around them all blood poured from dark clouds of red and brown ceaselessly and soaked the seven of the eight in a bath of crimson that they did not notice.

The seven of the eight did not speak to them. Simply lookup upon them and away into the skies beyond as all turned and from the surface of the blood moon looked upon a world of conflict and death and war. They saw the pointless and ceaseless fighting and felt behind them how it empowered the corpse of a god that would not be named.

They all felt frustration, futility, resolve, and purpose. The god was dead but it would never truely die and would continue to fuel and be fueld by the never ending war throughout the cosmos.

The weather witch and her followers did not need to tell them. Did not need to instruct them. The message was clear and they all stood and watched until the fighting stopped to the last man in the end by the actions of one of the eight who bore whitness and the god no longer feasted upon the conflict now stopped.

These beings could be stopped. Could be killed. Could be deprived and starved. It was their duty and obligation now to kill this being and others like it once and for all and free themselves from the influence of the gods.

The sanguinette would aid them, if only they let them...

In the language of the Nekomata her name was Suzume; The Sparrow. But now something else resounded in her very soul as a tint of red had flecked upon the black of her soul and character as BeniSuzume; The Red Hawk stood now before the mirrior in her cabin and stared at the form in the mirrior. She was herself again, but was different on a level she could not quite understand beyond this sudden change in her sense of self.

But when she chose to blink for but the briefest moment she could see it in her eyes of black and sapphire before they too were gone again as if but a trick of the light though she knew it to be otherwise

Were the vision true or not she knew now what she must do.

There were gods to kill and concepts to erase from the universe...