diatu | Mysterious Building, Go!

"If we're lucky, it'll just be some wacky mishap from Fall Cleaning leftovers or something." Tyzias sighs, shaking her head. In one hand, she has the wand she purchased with Dust's help. A few new runes line the grip—a special commission that is, in her opinion, entirely worthwhile. In her other hand is... a clipboard? With graph paper attached? "I highly doubt that we're going to be that lucky, though. And if we are, I'm going to throttle the little fucker who got me all worked up over this."

Beat.

"Verbally. As in berate them. In case that wasn't clear."

"Good, I'm not quite sure I'm ready to help you hide a body just yet. Give it a couple more days."

Smiling sidelong at her, Dust stepped up to the front door, mindful of where he put his feet. No traps. No dangerous runes. At least, nothing so far.

Tyzias walks in lockstep with Dust, stopping exactly six inches before the threshold. She scans the floor first. It's where most trap triggers go out of necessity; put a tripwire too high and somebody will spot it, and unless you have reliable detection techniques you can't make something motion-sensitive. Then, the ceiling. If you put the actual trap on the ceiling, it's pretty damn hard to avoid. Plus most people don't think to look up. Finally, the walls. Arrows, spikes, gouts of flame... walls are a classic placement for trap mechanisms.

Satisfied that she's not in immediate danger of death by trap, Tyzias gives Dust a curt nod before stepping into the corridor. "Aight. Not to be a cliche on main, but let's do this."

Edited 2019-11-03 23:28 (UTC)

Tyzias was a lot more thorough about searching than Dust was. His strategy for dealing with traps was 'trigger them, then evade or counter as necessary'.

"Right. Would it be too cliche in exchange to suggest I go first?"

Tyzias can almost certainly handle herself; every instinct of Dust's told him that. But so can he, and he wasn't in the least bit hesitant to get his swords involved and give his athletic fighting style a workout, plus if he was the frontliner Tyzias could cast spells into the fray for his Dust Storm to amplify.

"After you." Tyzias bows, shuffling to the side so Dust can take point. It's strange to take up the back line after so long, but hey, Tyzias needs some practice on the slinging technique she's been experimenting with anyways. And she's fairly confident that her companion can handle himself pretty well too.

As Dust begins walking down the corridor, the troll clicks the runes on her wand, and it turns into a... pencil? She begins sketching on the graph paper while she strides alongside Dust, drawing a pair of smooth lines as they progress through the corridor. Considering how twisty the magicademy's architecture can get, a map is probably going to be essential.

That was smart of her. Tyzias was definitely not like most people he'd ended up on this sort of adventure with. She seemed... profoundly reliable, no matter the air she might try to give off.

Unlike their surroundings, apparently! Just as they reached a sort of intersection, with stairs leading up and a couple of other hallways branching to the left and right, the building abruptly went all grey and misty. As did the two of them.

"Son of a fuck." Tyzias can't say she's surprised. Something like this was bound to happen at some point. That's just how these kind of things go, in her experience. But she doesn't waste any time lamenting their fate.

"Dust Storm, now," she barks, waving her wand with one hand and making arcane gestures with another. Tyzias flings a ball of Light I towards Dust. Or... wait, no, that's two balls. And that was definitely two magic circles she made at once, not one.

As soon as the spell leaves her wand, Tyzias switches gears and begins casting another double spell—it looks to be Modification, but its effect isn't immediately obvious to Dust.

Dust had an incredible power as the Sen-Mithrarin: he could flip Ahrah up to whirl the blade on his palm in that vortex, and at the very same time give Tyzias a look that perfectly communicated how unnecessary he thought that order was, even with his eyes being concealed! Such awesome power!

Okay, Tyzias was used to taking charge in situations. And giving orders. Interesting.

The pair of light balls whipped into his vortex and bloomed outwards into dozens, all flying around the blade in ecliptic orbits. And not whipping outwards, which was good; that meant no enemies hiding.

Something else passes through the Dust Storm, a brief shiver, something that almost pulls the sword forward before multiplying in force and striking each of the balls of light... which then begin to streak away from the dynamic duo in precise, organized patterns, illuminating the hallway, the staircase, and the two branches leading left and right, before coming to a perfect stop.

"Welp. Glad that didn't go horribly wrong," Tyzias deadpans, but she smiles slightly as she glances at the tip of her wand, obviously proud of herself. "C'mon, let's check out those hallways first. I don't want to get ambushed because we neglected to cover all of our bases before heading upstairs." She pauses. "And if you say that we should split up to cover more ground, I will punch you."

Dust flipped Ahrah back into reverse-grip, though both blades shifted slightly with his unease at their surroundings, and the feeling of a shift washing over them. He's felt things similar to this in the past, but why here and now? What does it mean?

Given these ominous circumstances, the worry about where they were being taken to, and what they might be getting into, Dust thought a moment, then said what he had to.

"Let's split up to cover more ground."

Don't mind his mischievous smile.

Tyzias groans, weakly socking Dust in the arm. It’s like getting slapped with a wet tissue. But despite her apparent consternation, Tyzias is smiling ever so slightly. The Prankster’s Gambit moves a tick in Dust’s favor.

That being said, there’s no way she’s splitting up with Dust, especially with the ominous mist billowing everywhere. Hell, considering the magical nature of the cheap horror FX, there’s a solid chance she’ll lose track of Dust if she takes her eyes off him. “C’mon, you idiot. Left first.” She grabs his hand to make sure that he won’t be separated before striking towards the left corridor.

Edited 2019-11-06 20:16 (UTC)

Dust hadn't made that joke with thought for whether or not she'd appreciate it, but he found himself glad she did. Tyzias came off as the sort of person who'd do what needed to be done regardless of how she felt about the people involved, but nonetheless he really wanted to be on her good side for some reason.

Careful not to whack her with Furae as she caught the hand that held his sword-familiar, he followed after her quickly enough that she wouldn't have to drag him. "This place better not have gone to someplace it will be really annoying to get back from." They WOULD get back, no question in his mind, just how much effort would it be?

Through some miracle, Tyzias's almost imperceptible smile lingers. It's almost like Vaikuntha; traipsing through a mysterious and spooky dungeon, trading sarcastic barbs like they weren't in very serious danger... damn, there's the melancholy nostalgia. Ignoring the sudden pang in her chroma beater, Tyzias shoots Dust a faux-withering glare. "Jeeg, do you want that happen? Rule number one of adventuring, Dust: Don't tempt Murphy."

Before she steps foot in the corridor, Tyzias thrusts her other hand forward, and the lights coalesce into a net that sweeps down the left hallway, illuminating its murky depths. Only when she's satisfied that they won't get jumped will Tyzias continue on.

Dust flashed a smirk that had no sharpness behind it right back at her. "And here I was going by, if I say it out loud it will be too predictable for it to happen."

Of course, light or no light, Dust wasn't taking 'not getting jumped' for granted either. Something could literally pop out of nowhere, like a ghost or a spirit or something.

"You know, I'm more used to my magical companion floating just over my shoulder."

"Trust me, you really don't want to see me try the whole 'helpful tutorial fairy' bit." Tyzias snorts as she moves down the hallway, brandishing her wand in front of her as she continues to methodically check for traps. Always pays to be cautious. "My wings are way too big for that, for one."

...

Wait.

"Hold on, that actually gives me an idea." The fog is dangerous. Even with the network of light spells illuminating their surroundings, it can only pierce the mist so far. There's still a substantial chance that something is lurking inside it. But if she gets rid of it...

Tyzias starts flexing her back, pauses, and takes off the khaki button-up that she normally keeps over her t-shirt. She fiddles around with its interior, then two slits open up in the back--the same size and shape as the slits that are now visible on the back of her shirt. Grumbling something about not ruining another outfit, she puts the khaki button-up back on, flexes her back again, and powerful, draconic wings burst out of her shirt.

Then she begins flapping them. It's an awkward movement, like Tyzias isn't used to using the wings at all, but they keep picking up speed and power until they're generating a sizable gust. Enough to blow away at least some of the mist, hopefully.

"Huh."

Another surprise from Tyzias. Would she ever stop sending them his way? Every time he thought he was getting a handle on her, something new came up...

"You're amazing," he said, trying and partly succeeding to make it sound lighthearted and none-too-serious. Of course he usually tended towards the quiet and intense. "Though you know, the Dust Storm would've worked too..."

As the fog blows away, Tyzias rolls her wingjoints, wincing. Damn, she's really not used to working out her wings like that. Whenever she had to fly out in the Dream Width, she could rely on her god tier to get it done for her. She's really gonna have to get in some practice with using these things properly; add that to the already impossibly long to-do list.

Tyzias walks along the corridor, hand slipping from Dust's as she carefully counts each step she makes. "Eh, I'm nothing special. Really. These fuckers," she jabs a thumb towards her wings, "are more of an inconvenience than anything else. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to find a tailor who won't faint when I show 'em off, let alone one that has the skill to put together something that I can actually fit them inside. And the Dust Storm would've just been one, maybe two directions. We need- wait."

She stops in her tracks, and fishes out a piece of paper with neat handwriting out of that mysterious somewhere that Tyzias keeps most of her things. "Can the Dust Storm magnify the effect of spells that don't have a physical manifestation if Ahrah cuts through the casting focus?"

Edited 2019-11-13 21:11 (UTC)

"I guess I need to get better at Modification just so I can start doing all these things you haven't thought to use it for yet." One more thing that'd solve a lot of her woes -- since changing a shirt or a jacket would be much easier than getting one laboriously made for her. While she counted steps, he watched the walls, just in case something poked out.

"An excellent question, Tyzias," Ahrah said. "Though the Dust Storm is uniquely powerful, such a use was never conceived of in the annals of the Moonblood understanding of the Sen-Mithrarin. In fact, I am often surprised it works on magic here--"

"Blah, blah, blah," said Furae suddenly. "I can do it, so just use me."

Dust half-lifted his arm, frowning down at the sword in it. "I supposed that makes sense, since you're a Familiar..."

"In my defense, I am not a very fashion minded person." Tyzias gestures at her feet, which are clad in socks and sandals. The same as literally every day. She never takes the damn things off. It's comfortable, okay? She doesn't have to justify herself.

As soon as Furae gives the OK, Tyzias begins reading off the document. "In exchange for one (1) gift of power through prayer, the gods of the Tenscore Kingdom shall provide me with the thorough identification of one (1) magical item, effect, spell, or any combination of the above, in the Anastaran dialect, through the school used in the construction of the magical item, effect, spell..." She drones on for almost a half minute before she completes the prayer—a simple Identify I—and whips the paper towards Furae. With luck, magnifying the identification spell will increase the potency enough to tell Tyzias what exactly in the goddamn hell is going on here.

Ahrah's vortex, in the Dust Storm, is one of wind, as the blade spins so quickly it creates a blur and a gust as marks of its passage. When Dust threw up his left hand and releases his grip on Furae, the Second Sword revealse dits pretty-predictable nature: fire. The vortex of fire sucked in the sheet of paper and hurled ashes everywhere, every scrap of paper shot through with magic that crackled out to understand the nature of this effect.

Tyzias stands stock still as the knowledge floods her mind. Well. At least she can add another classical adventure to her list of her heroic exploits.

She immediately begins sprinting back up the hallway, towards the stairs. "Whatever spell was cast on this building brought us to the afterlife. It's half-Sundering, half something... weird. Necromancy, most likely. C'mon, we need to head up. Ascension from the underworld is a pretty classic theme, so we can probably find a way out up there. If not, a higher focal point could still help." Tyzias says all of this with deadly calm. No emotion, no distress. Just pure, concentrated purpose

"Also, watch out for ghosts."

"Ghosts. Wonderful. I had so much fun with them the last time."

Dust, on the other hand, let a little amusement-covering-worry slip through. Ghosts were... one of the few things he sincerely feared, if it came to a combat, because a swordsman like him simply didn't have the power to battle one. His last encounter with one, a terribly powerful one at that, truly had been a lot of running on his part.

Tyzias pays Dust no mind, too occupied with sifting through the details that the identification gave her about the spell currently threatening to drag them further down into the depths of this world's punitive afterlife. Looking, searching, thinking, analyzing, looking for any hole or hint in the spellcraft that could provide a way back to Diatu.

...and then there is a- wait, no. Not anymore. There's only a few scraps of spiritual energy in front of Tyzias where there once was probably a spirit, a white blur separating the moment it was undead and the moment it was, for lack of a better term, double-dead. "Stay sharp," she says, as more ghosts begin emerging from the mists.

"That's what I've got swords for," Dust returned as he half-turned, making his walk into a sidle so he could keep the rear covered. The ghosts weren't too hostile... yet, anyway, so they could keep moving safely.

"I was really hoping for monsters or something," he continued, because words seemed to help fill the air and keep the pair of them grounded.

"Easier to kill something than to double-kill something."

"And I definitely feel like you always take the easy route."

Sorry, Tyzias, but showing up here in this place with him pretty much gave you away.

"I absolutely do," she says without a hint of sarcasm, which somehow seems more sardonic than if she laid in on real thick.

"Mmmhmm. You definitely didn't use any tactics that would say otherwise back when we were playing that game together."

He could play that game too. And considering how generally quiet and intense he was, that only helped.

"Not at all, no." And there goes another ghost that wanted to try its luck with Tyzias. It's just... gone. No trace left.

"...Wish I'd had you around in Falana," he said a moment later, much more serious than before. And also wistful, bringing to mind memories of Fidget.

"Let's say, hypothetically," definitely not hypothetically, "if I was any good at fighting and if I was on your homeworld... what was happening that you needed me for?" Tyzias had an inkling—you don't get that good with a sword for no reason, after all—but she was curious as to the details.

"Dealing with a ghost. I couldn't kill it, it nearly killed me a few times." Dust paused, then smirked. "I had everything else under control till the end."

"That makes sense. You need something real special to double-kill things without a whole bunch of other steps." Like a sword infused with the power of the Angel of Double-Death, for instance. "If you don't have some uber-weapon on hand, your best bet is good ol' fashioned exorcism, dealing with their last wishes, or appealing to their emotions. None of which we have time for here, unfortunately."

"There aren't any weapons more special than Ahrah."

"AHEM, Dust."

"You weren't there. But we ended up having to set it to rest... not without a few terrifying encounters, though. I think that thing scared me more than anything else I've ever met."

Speaking of terrifying encounters, the dynamic duo finally reaches the top of the stairs. Tyzias curses under her breath, apparently unwinded by the flight up. Goes to show that not every universe bends to the laws of narrative resonance like Paradox Space.

But there's not a lot of time to lament that, since there's a big fuckoff SPIRIT DRAKE: GUARDIAN OF THE SPECTRAL STAIRCASE roaring at them on the misty platform that Tyzias and Dust are now standing on.

Tyzias doesn't waste a moment. She snaps her fingers, and the net of lights rushes up the staircase after them and begins swarming around the draconic creature in an attempt to confuse and disorient it. While it's distracted, she takes out her wand and chants a fire spell, making those odd movements with her other hand once again. A fireball far larger than one of that level has any right to be flies out of the circle and towards Dust. He knows what to do.

The moment Tyzias made her first moment, Dust charged in at top speed, blades already cutting wide arcs through the air as he whirled through a surprisingly graceful forehand-offhand-backhand-cross pattern in less time than it takes to tell. The twin blades didn't leave visible marks, but mistlike spiritual energy trails out in the wake of each cut, indicating he's having SOME effect.

No sooner did Tyzias lob the fireball then Dust vaulted into the air. This called for a different technique, sort of: the aerial Dust Storm. As the spell closed, he whirled forward like a drill, swords trailing red and blue lines through the air.

The spinning motion of his body and blades together had the same effect as the vortex of the Dust Storm did -- but when the fireball hit, rather than multiplying, it exploded into a massive roaring column of flame that briefly engulfed both Sen-Mithrarin and Spirit Drake (in attack mode!).

On the one hand, Tyzias really didn't want to out herself. On the other, if she could trust anybody with a secret, it's Dust. And he's already figured it out, or most of it at any rate, so...

Click. Through the smoke of Tyzias's flames, Dust can see the troll roll her shoulders. Then, in a flash of blue pixels, two swords are in her hands.

One is pure and white, sleek, smooth. Beautiful. It's a hero's sword, looking more like the ideal of a sword than a physical object. Caledfwlch.

The other is black and a deep, dark, mesmerizing purple. It's spiked, brutal, and seems to warp the air ever so slightly around it. The blade seems to be made almost out of a living thing: scales and horns and fangs and claws all formed into an instrument of destruction. It isn't as polite at Caledfwlch, announcing its name for all to hear, and it thrums with a silent menace.

Tyzias doesn't have time for theatrics. She moves with a graceful fluidity, not an iota of energy wasted, not a millimeter out of place. As the drake is distracted by Dust, Tyzias darts behind it and begins... well. Unlike Dust, who has been likened to a "three-dimensional buzzsaw," her swordfighting style is simple. Efficient. And terrifying. No frills, no unnecessary flair. It's not poetry in motion, it's too brutal for that. Her swordplay is butchery, in the classic sense: calculated, practiced blows, in the exact right place at the exact right time until the job's done.

Caledfwlch and Dragon's Spine are perfectly suited to the job, of course. Caledfwlch is meant to bypass perfect immortality clauses and is crafted partially from the essence of one of the few beings capable of obliterating ghosts, while Dragon's Spine was created from the corpse of the Calamity Dragon and is ever so efficient at slaying its kin.

And yet... yet. It almost seems like Tyzias is bored. She's barely paying the beast any mind and looks more irritated that she was forced to show her hand early than anything else. In more modern parlance, she's ten-percenting this fight.

Tyzias, you are just... so full of surprises Dust wasn't actually surprised. Extremely curious, yes. (More than a little confused about his own inner reaction to this display, oh hell yes.) But there would be time later for analyzing that; right now he focused entirely on whirling through the drake, exactly like that buzzsaw. This was nowhere near the finesse he usually showed, simply because the spirit beast simply wasn't small enough that knocking it skyward or slamming it around with raw strength could actually work.

In an instant, it's over. The drake is obliterated. Clearly, whoever put that thing here in the first place weren't expecting people like Dust and Tyzias to come a'knocking. Tyzias's swords vanish into blue pixels, and her head snaps towards Furae. She stands tall, taller than Dust has ever seen her, and something about her doesn't... fit quite right. It's hard to put a finger on, but it's there, along with the endless, deep, eldritch abyss in her eyes.

Bracing herself, Tyzias summons another, different weapon: a massive, black-and-red hammer with a spectral clock ticking away at its center. Spikes akin to the blades of Caledfwlch and her other blade adorn its bashing end, and without hesitation she smashes the mysterious pillar lurking behind the drake.

"Tell anyone about this, and I break you. Understand?"

"Dust. Dust. Dust You have got to spar her."

Furae was fairly well immune to fear and common sense both. Whereas Dust... turned his head slightly, flipping both swords back into their sheaths as he did.

"You didn't have to do that. We could've handled it without that." The way she seemed so flatly displeased about revealing those tricks of hers stung, because it meant she thought he wasn't strong enough to handle it, even with her help. Quite aside from the general hit to his pride, which was bad enough, he... really didn't want Tyzias thinking of him as weak. Or needing rescue. Or anything like that.

On the contrary, Tyzias didn't think he was weak. Far from it, Dust was obviously capable of holding his own. But standing on the backlines, flinging spells and shouting encouragement when she could be doing something? Not Tyzias's style. Not anymore.

"Yeah, you definitely could've handled it, given enough time. But I don't want to wait around for some other fucky thing to happen that might trap us in the afterlife. And sure, you would've beaten it, but you might've gotten hurt in the process and... I don't want that happening to you." Tyzias explains. She might not be an empath, but... she knows Dust enough by now to sense his displeasure. "Look, I..." she runs her head through her hair, sighing. "Sorry about that. It's just. It's been a long time since I've had anything approaching a normal life. I wanted to keep it lowkey here. Stay in the background. Let somebody else be the hero for once. But I guess that just doesn't come naturally to me anymore."

"If I get hurt, I'll heal," Dust said, the quiet intensity of his voice working on overdrive levels as he lifted one hand, fingers slightly curled. "If I die, I'll come back. That's what I was created to do. If you want to hang back, I can handle things. That's a promise. If you don't, then I'll help, because that's my nature. Literally. But I'll keep your secret either way."

"Yeah, well, I auto-resurrect back home too.

"But do you really want to find out whether it works here too?"

As irritated as Tyzias sounds, there's genuine care in her voice.

"I did come back here after I died at home, so it clearly does work. Besides, it's baked in. It's part of what I am."

Tyzias was a good person. No matter what she acted like, Dust had seen that for himself. That concern doesn't surprise him.

"If you say so. Just... take care of yourself, aight? No need to tempt the reaper, especially considering that we might have just personally pissed them off." Tyzias's smile is half-genuine, half-dangerous smirk as she surveys the scenery.

"'Tho I'm pretty sure we could take 'em together."

Mysterious Building, Go!

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Mobile tag so sorry for typos

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i feel like this tag standing on its own is perfect

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want to save the Reveal of how strong she is for later but she has perfect gear for this

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is an anonymous network post about crush feelings incoming

"did someone put love potion in the water again?"

do it do it do it

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