Zed Arybai Vs Taxim.

[Taxim]

As the dust clears, the child steps through the rubble towards his downed opponent. The lips of the mask twisted and curled upwards as the mask-dweller congratulated itself on the shot.

"Ah, wounded are we..?"

His opponents main strength seemed to be physical, so the child took the best course of action. He removed one hand from the staff and kneeled beside his opponent, moving his hand to touch his opponents forehead. On his belt and in his mind, the mask-dwellers seemed happy at the oppertunity to tear another mind into a drooling statue.

[Angel]

Zed's powerful resistance to the shock only brings the even more debilitating pain back. He presses his fingers against the wound in a vague attempt to stem the flow of blood, it's already slowing, thanks to his heritage. But still... he can feel his strength slipping. Him mind works at breakneck speed but he can see no conceivable way of getting away from this threat.

His breath comes in disjointed, painful gasps. He screws his eyes shut, the muscles in his jaw working hard. A shadow falls across his closed eyelids and they snap open again. The will to fight still glares out from his eyes and he isn't through yet.

He brings his unbloodied hand up, gripping Taxim's arm before he can touch his bare skin,

"But ...not ...dead, thanks... " He snarls mentally at his weak voice and the emotion gives him a little kick again. He sends a tiny charge through his palm to lead the way, then a bigger one follows its path, heading straight for the nerves in the childs arm.

[Taxim]

The shock seemed to numb his arm as it shot up towards his shoulder, slowly dying as it moved. It hurt only for a breif second, then the pain stopped and it felt as if all blood had vanished. It did not worry him, it only angered him.

"Insolence...

The voice drew back untill it was only an echo, only to become a much softer voice.

"~Wear me little one.~"

It was the white mask speaking while the more twisted counterpart kept silent. Taxim took four steps backwards before pulling the heavily decorated white and cream mask out of its space with one hand while removing black mask with the other.

The black mask uttered a curse that would make most children cry as it was replaced with the white. Taxim pressed the new mask gently onto his face while keeping a close eye on his opponent for any movements as his body was shaped by the mask.

[Angel]

It's getting harder and harder to breathe,

He grits his teeth, the air hissing between his fangs. While glad for the brief moment, he knows it isn't enough. He dreads to think of what changes the next mask could bring, he's in no doubt that they are the well of the voices that crackle around the boy. The hissing and cursing one is bad enough... the calm, though, is worse.

There's no way I'm gonna give up,

Too late, its already too late, but he tries to close the wound, bending his shape shifting to the task but already his body is too weak. The bleeding slows again, barely dripping onto the concrete now. The rich iron scent of it fills his senses and threatens to bring on a change he is unwilling to make. Not in a city like this, about to be filled with humans.

A sudden lance of pain as Zed tries to push himself towards a power line, torn and dangling from the ruined building, stops him in his tracks. His vision swims dangerously and he buckles to the concrete, hacking up blood. For once, its his own. A heavy sweat covers him now, the pain making him almost feverish. Stuck in this useless body, his head rips apart what could happen now, rationalising, trying to predict.

[Taxim]

The change happened slowly at first, then speading up. The white and cream of the mask seemed to drip downwards, covering the darkness in a soft, cream colour. His hair first, then his clothes all became the same colour only with subtle changes in tone and shade.

The black rod held in his right hand faded away completely before being replaced by a simpler looking staff. It was longer and made of a completely white metal with black cloth wrapped around the middle as a grip. Instead of an orb, this had what seemed to be an upside-down U on both ends which would have acted as a hammer with a crushing blow.

The final transformation came as the fibres in spots on the back of his jacket peeled away into holes which were soon filled as two almost angel-like wings slowly emerged. The boy tilted his head as the mask took its effect.

He already felt stronger, and taking a few hops to test the other effect, he was lighter also. He let his wings rest gently before taking four steps back to his opponent.

"No no more resistance. Okay?"

Taxim ignored the numbed hand once again and gripped the staff harder, making sure that his subject would obey by raising it high and aiming the U end before thrusting it downward at his foe.

[Angel]

Zed cries out as it slams into him, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He slumps, almost unconscious, on to the concrete. He chokes up blood again, lying half curled oh his side. He bites his lip to keep from making any more embarrassing noise.

"Fine... just leave ...already, it's... my town.." He rasps out, his throat raw and coated in blood. He attempts to lift himself up but slumps back again, shaking pathetically.

[Taxim]

"Oh no, I'm sorry but we can't afford you zapping us all in the back. We will try and make it as painless as possible. Or not, if you resist."

The child knelt beside his opponent and placed his staff on the floor the opposite side of his to his opponent. He then shook his hand gently in the air to let his sleave fall down.

"This time there will be no more surprise charges."

Taxim extends his fingers and slowly moves them towards the back of his opponents head. Once again, inside his head, the mask-dwellers laugh, hiss and talk amongst themselves for the oncoming onslaught.

[Angel]

In the back? He can barely lift his arms now, in the front would be difficult enough... His gut is just a mess of pain, no definition to it, just blanket OUCH. His head is slumped down on his arms and he's curled up in a semi-fetal position from clutching at his wound.

Zed snarls at him, rather weakly but the intent is there, as the boy-child leans over him. He gathers charge under the skin of his neck but its barely enough to feel, let alone debilitate. In contrast, Taxim's touch makes Zed flinch away, it feels plain wrong.

He can hear the god-damned voices' bickering clearly, they aren't even bothering to hide it anymore.

Painless my rear end.

[Taxim]

The child smiles as his fingers gently brush against his opponent, causing him to sidle away.

"Oh, does it hurt?"

Without leaving anything left, he holds onto the back of his head and closes his eyes as he sizes up the situation. All six of the mask-dwellers instantly charge along the connection with about as much skills at sneaking as an elepheant on broken glass.

They smash into his opponents mental blocks, all now images of the spirits within, and start looking for loose threads in the defense such as painfull memories or strong feelings such as love or hatred. The spirits within the dark masks seem to take the most enjoyement out of this as they probe with their long black fingers.

"~Well... Search for anything... You know the drill...~" Spoke the darkest voice, the Black mask.
"~I take making it painless is out of the question?~" This was a softer voice, she was the White mask. The dark mask only laughed in a reply and took up searching once more. This all happened with Taxim looking on as the mask-dwellers took his mind on their journey so he could see what happens. This was the usual ritual, and it always seemed to null him further.

[Angel]

Zed pushes back against the intruders with a passion. He ties down his weaknesses, ferreting them away as deep as he can. Some though, are too big to hide completely, bits showing here and there and the pain, anger of the memories tends to push them forwards.

The effort, however, is excruciating. Zed's body, quite apart from his mind, feels nothing of it but his mind writes away and screams from to intrusions. It takes his utmost concentration to keep fighting, to prolong this agony. Each memory that the chaotic mask-dwellers touch brings up an emotion until he shakes at the madness of it.

the spirits pluck away the tangle of benign memories faster than he can repair it, so he abandons the defence and attacks. He begins to tear into the marauders, a process he is much more familiar with. Looking for their weaknesses, a softer memory or a mind in the chaos that is less destructive.

[Angel]

((deleting double post, ))

[Taxim]

The combined might of the six had been enough to hold off demons that been trapped in old relics, driven mad by the centuries of their imprison. It had been strong enough to crush the minds of the Golden Clergy and their radical "purging" of the group that escaped the castle, and now...

...they felt insulted.

True, his attack caught them unawares. He was allowed a quick glimpse into the child before all of them threw up mental walls just about as high as you could get.

A dark room inhabited by two children. Taxim and one other, his sister.
"What do you think... they want us to try now?"She whispered. It was too dark to see much, the room was lit only by candlelight. It was a stone room, or maybe brick. It was rough, and that's all he knew. At one end of the room, Taxim and his sister sat against the wall, while at the other end was a large, grey iron-cast door.
"Do you think they'll let us go?" She asked when she received no reply from her first question. Taxim only looked at the floor and shuffled his feet. They were both a sorry state... both of them in the clothes they were taken in, only dirty, torn and marked.
"Can't you speak..?" She sighed before looking at the door. The sound of footsteps made them both sit straight. The sound of a key being pressed into a lock, the screaming of the hinges and then a bright light...

Then it ended and Taxim was pushed out of the mental picture by the masks. It took him a few seconds to realise what had happened before he finally remembered that his opponent had invaded him. He frowned and gripped his staff again before raising it to give his opponent another whack.

Now that the weakest member was gone, the spirits were free to fight. They pushed back the opponents mental attack, matching it with their own force, searching for anything they could use against him.

[Angel]

No good, no good...

Zed's experience controlling Angels rages doesn't extend to this, this force, this menace! He clamps down on attack after attack, slivers that get past what push he can throw at it. But slowly and surely it is pushing him back.
When the physical blow comes, he is far from expecting it.

The intense pain drags him back to his physical self, breaking all his concentration and bringing the walls crashing down around him. Defenceless for a moment, its all the spirits need.

The memory "on hand" comes readily, as if it is often relived...

[i]Drip...

Drip, drip...

Drip...


No... leave me alone... go away!

Drip. Drip-drop.

Not that.. please?

The puddle ripples thickly at each drop, the peaks reflecting the light in otherwise complete darkness. The frame of a door lets through an ever brightening electric light, along with footsteps.

Drip, drip-drop.

Step. drip-drop, drip,

Drip. Drip. Drip, step. Drip-drip.

CLICK.

The light blooms painfully, falling on Zeds bruised face.

No, NO. NOO! GET AWAY FROM ME! GO!

A scream rips out of his throat as the black, ominous shape reaches him. Echoing dully back off the walls, no sound escapes here. He thrashes and kicks, the metal cuffs on his wrists cutting into his skin.

The ferocity of that scream hauls him back to the real world, the agony giving him a mad, wild strength to fight back again.

[Angel]

deleted

[Taxim]

The immediate break in the bond leaves all but the mask he is wearing staggered slightly, they talk amongst themselves for a moment while the White mask draws itself back into the fight.

It takes the entity a few seconds to size up the situation before guiding the child. Taxim takes up the staff with both hands this time and holds it as a spear. He moves back an inch before raising his front leg onto the foot to brace and ground himself while thrusting the end towards his opponents back.

The mask leant him speed and strength, which would all increase the pain of the attack.