Re: Praise the Sun. (Mind Flayer)
Thankfully for Ichiro there was a poof of smoke that sounded quite goofy and Vila was free of him, curled up and pint sized again, snoring very cutely on a pillow, her spell running out. Everyone seemed happy, but Ichiro wasn't free of his visitor yet.
His entire world fell away around him, leaving him on a black slab of stone in a hellish landscape of towering stone spires, dusky red and terrifying, while black lightning smashed through white and blue clouds, tearing the sky apart in a storm that would make even the gods tremble. This was no storm of Kord, this was a reckoning from a dimension he couldn't even begin to fathom. This place... it tugged and pulled at his soul in every direction, Not even Pelor could protect him here, while a cat stood in front of him, green tendrils of energy smoking around it's body, before it grew into a man.
He stood there, bare as he was born, skin ashen and grey, an unnatural stony color, as if he'd been chiseled from this unnatural world by the wind itself and he regarded Ichiro.
WHAT WILL YOU SHOW ME ICHIRO SUZUKA!? He suddenly roared, leaning forward to bellow at him, the wind ripping the very ground apart around him while lightning surged downwards, striking the spires in a tremendous display of power that Ichiro couldn't place. He wasn't sure if it was the man before him, or the landscape itself that was clawing at the earth.
One eye was White, the Other black, no pupil, nothing save those colors as a massive set of scales exploded from the earth behind him, crackling and twisting with green lightning that Sang with power. Raw, Primordial.
That Unnatural Creature's Meddling has finally spilled into all the realms, her constant tapping and drawing finally running to some kind of Balance only for a Siren to upset the scales! We've lost her soul! We've lost a Millenia of power to her, but we cannot Deny her! Her love is Pure, Her need is Real. WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO OFFER ICHIRO! He Screamed, the wind picking up again while those black scales behind him tipped and swayed. On one he could see all the souls already lost to this insane situation. On the other he could see 8 people. Several he knew. The Fey Woman, Sola, A black winged warrior he'd seen in his visions, The Shaman who'd Blessed him... He was still mixed on that man. Still unsure of where he had truly stood at the end. The Revenant was there, so was Cosimo and Terra. Kalt stood there, no, not Kalt, Her Vessel. And a young boy in very fine clothes. They all stood balanced against a hundred thousand souls. It was Wrong. It was Impossibly Wrong in the grand scheme of things.
Prove you can save them Ichiro. We will not Judge these souls for following their hearts to their end, but we cannot let this situation lay as it stands. The Gods have turned their backs, Closed their Eyes. The Hells are Quiet. Only We Stand Now, It is Our Task, and we Hand it to You. PROVE YOU CAN SHOULDER THIS BURDEN! He Roared. And it was a Roar. There was no other description for the power in his voice while Ichiro turned his soul to what it needed most right now, what it screamed for, a Weapon. His hands Burned as the unholy lightning from above, or perhaps the most holy, crashed into his arms, Tattoos burning into his flesh while from his shoulders to his wrists, before that black glass like stone Coiled upwards around his fists. His knuckles were smooth and shining, for solid blows, while thick blades extended like claws down from his fingers, for rending, tearing, slicing, gutting. While the Wolf Howled deep in his soul in answer to this spirits challenge. There was no Retreat, there was no talking his way out. This was what he'd come to be used to in his time in the Arena, what it had all turned him into. His Gladiator Soul Cried out for Release! His Primal Beast Howled in need for Blood, His Heart POUNDED with raw excitement! There was no turning back! His Opponent was right there, and nothing in his life, not sex, not open war, not the thrill of the hunt, would ever compare to the rush he felt now, pitted against a single man who could See NOTHING but him in this moment, in the absolute Purity of single combat.
The Grey Man closed his hands into fists, before banging his knuckles together just above his own waist. What Will you Show Me. He Said softly, striding to meet Ichiro.
