Plotlogs
The Call Of Apophis Sr Illyana 241130
The grand arena of Apophis sets the stage for an extraordinary and chaotic spectacle unlike any other. Sam, having been abducted by snake-headed men and brought to this techno-arcane colosseum, finds himself propelled into a grand ritual intending to draw the dark god Apep closer from the void. With his ties to Lord Apep highlighted by the serpent priest Apon Ra-Tep, Sam embarks on a pivotal journey, his path intersecting with that of Novel, another participant in this macabre festival.
As an epic battle unfolds below, with the terrifying visage of a multi-headed Abomination unleashing havoc, Sam and Novel demonstrate their prowess and cunning in the face of impossible odds. Sam, embracing his role as a demigod of Apep, works to activate ancient tablets with his own blood and the blood of the supernatural creatures falling within the coliseum, all while engaging in haemomantic incantations and a ruthless display of combat.
Novel, on the other hand, employs an audacious strategy that turns the spectacle on its head. In a move that defies expectations, he rallies the audience—serpent-men abominations—to join in a frenzy of chaos, hurling debris at the Abomination. His daring escalates the conflict to new heights, drawing the creature's ire and confusion, ultimately contributing to its downfall and fueling the ritual with its blood.
The climax of this surreal and blood-soaked narrative sees the ritual reach its completion. The arena, now a vision of elation and chaos, celebrates as Sam and Novel stand victorious. Despite the fervor of their accomplishments, the air crackles with the potent sense of something more sinister brewing beneath the surface. The efforts of Sam and Novel have undeniably pushed Apep closer to his return, planting the seed for an eidolon birthed from darkness and malevolence.
Their triumph is not without its tolls, though, as the chaos sowed this day hints at the grim undertakings and the stirrings of a god of darkness. And while Apep's full manifestation remains in the distant future, the groundwork laid by Sam and Novel ensures that the call of Duat and the whispers of Isfet grow ever louder, heralding the impending resurgence of a force that may one day challenge the gods themselves.
(The call of Apophis(SRIllyana):SRIllyana)
[Fri Nov 29 2024]
In The coliseum of Apophis
Imagine if you will, a grand arena that marries the opulence and mystique of ancient Egypt with the sophistication of modern technology. This is where you find yourselves now. The colosseum is a monumental feat of hidden architecture that should simply not exist- And only can thanks to the skill and dedication of those supernatural forces that should never be evoked. As a testament to both ancient grandeur and contemporary engineering, it is a secretive marvel, with every aspect crawling with impending hostility, but also, a surprising beauty: Haunting and twisted with the supernatural shadows that pervade its every inch. Above, ornate terracing and modern seating thrives, the ranks upon ranks of observation seats filled with putrid abominations, fleshformed monsters with the heads of serpents who cheer and call out in a tongue not known by man in all too long. Where you stand, you find that The arena floor itself is designed with versatility in mind, a gigantic bason of obsidion- a vast open space made of polished stone with patterns that resemble an intricate Egyptian floor mosaic, incorporating geometric designs, animal motifs, and stylized depictions of the Nile River. Embedded within the floor, a deep trench forms a triangle; Crusted in blood and even now flowing with that life giving fluid that terminates on its points with three stone monoliths that depict various ideas of what the dark void being Apep must look like.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
Though Sam was relaxing without issue, kidnappings are nothing unusual for Haven township. They are frequent, with the syndicate, the factions and even independent antagonists deciding to take part in the age old tredition. It's as common as tourists, or submissive angels; Aggressive demonborn, capricious fae or arrogant demigods- But what is less common is the abductions that make it not through the nightmare, but through a direct pathed location. Sam finds his room infiltrated by snake-headed men in egyption garb, and he is given no choice but to obey. Before Sam can react, he finds himself placed into a trance, bound, gagged and removed with as little attention drawn to the situation as inhumanly possible; Which is likely all the more cause for worry when Sam finds himself unbound, ungagged and with no blindfold within the techno-arcane miracle that he wakes to. Not far away stands the figure from before: Apon Ra-Tep, complete with ankh and serpent staff awaits him, and from the vantage Sam finds himself in, he becomes aware that below, a grand pit fight is taking place. - Sam is in a box set aside for officials, of course. Outside, the followers of Apep sit; Rank upon rank of snake-headed abominations who cheer and chant in an ancient tongue the likes of which have not been heard in many... many years. Below, Sam can see the circular pit floor, the triangular design in its center, and to each of the triangle's corners, one of three tablets that look as ancient as the stones. Behind him is a sandstone tunnel: Sam remembers this from the dream, so by process of elimination, it's easy to see that the tablets must likewise be those saught by the ancient sorcerer from ancient egypt- Sam finds himself within the grand coliseum of Apophis!
Once the initial adrenaline calms down, Sam looks around, offering Apon an upnod as he looks down. His eyes scan the form, and he recognizes the triangular shape he himself uses in rites.
He sniffs the air, and pulls out his focus from under his jacket, present company making the jock arcanist not really worry about being indiscreet as he flicks his tongue from his mouth, trying to taste or take measure of the local energies.
"You, Sam Fisher are the only one of Lord Apep's progeny to have successfully navigated and succeeded in the tasks set out for all of you." Apon Ra-Tep informs Sam, from where he stands, hooded head directed to the gathering below. His staff is firmly planted, the LED lighting in the eyes of the snake head glinting against the sandstone backdrop. "You have witnessed the memories of Apon-Apep-Ca, his first herald, who fell in seeking the deity's return from wence Ra, in his struggle of day and night- Dawn and dusk- Light and dark banished the Great One to the void. And now you witness what it is that we, the Children of Apophis have rendered in flesh and stone." Gesturing out over the bason with ankh in hand, Apon observes as a hippo is braught forth, and a bout between it, and two cat-headed women unfolds. "You see how we are all unified in this task? You see how the world answers the call." The serpent priest of Apep allows Sam to process the situation, the hippo and the feline women's combat short, violent and chaotic; The hippo looks as though it will take the victory over both, but the feline headed women-- Servants or priestesses of Bast overwhelm it with sorcery and martial prowesse. -- The air is thick. It is flooded with a blending of modern convenience: The scents and sounds of twenty first century cleaning agents, arcane and alchemic chemicals and the dry musk of desert and reptiles. But so too can Sam taste the blood in the air: He feels the power-- The worship-- The prayers to Apep. Sam also hears the prayers of other gods- Those slaughtered in utero by the creeping, clawing power of Apep himself.
"Well, then that must mean I was meant to be here, innit?" Sam grins, with that, indeed common, arrogance of Demigods. He looks to Apon Ra-Tep, and gives a slightly amused smirk. "Next time, send me an invitation, Brother."
He does not sound terribly upset, rather, he breathes in the scent of blood, and takes a moment to just drink in the arcana, the prayer, and to scowl at the stifled wishes of the weak below.
"There is a stirring in Haven, people are moving towards Cairo." He speaks, simply. "The Tablets. Do we seek to break them, or to fuel them?" He inquires, enjoying the bout below with a sadistic sort of grin. Seems among like-minded individuals, the Demigod does not need to mask his in-humanity.
Sam speaks, Apon Ra-Tep listens and he nods. Sam appears to have the lay of the land and he very much agrees with the willingness of Apep's blood. "We are aware of those who seek to disrupt the ritual. It is why we have chosen you. You are aware of them. You interact with them. You are able to appreciate how they work. Haven's proximity to the gates has created mutations. It has developed more supernaturals on this world than is of reason. They grow powerful quickly, and it is powerful blood we wish to feed to Apep's ritual. And so, yet one more task is before you." Apon Ra-Tep informs Sam. "For such things are not so easily done. There are conditions that must be met. There are obligations to be upheld; We, who have served Apep for time immemorial are not permitted to conclude this grand working. The House of Ra has forbade it under divine edict. Though mortals of his blood, such as you have the freedoms we do not." Nodding to himself, the serpent priest makes an approving sound as the cat-headed women next turn on each other; something about the arina appears to have forced combat between them- And all the while, each death, each pool of blood, each welling and disruption of life force draws that air slightly thicker with power. This has been going on for quite some time if Sam is any judge. It is only after the Bastet priestesses take each other's lives with spear, arcana and knife that Apon Ra-Tep answers the other of Sam's questions though. Though he gives Sam an answer that is very much what he needs to hear. "Each of the tablets you see down there are focus points for the Great One's energy. They empower him. They strengthen him. They draw him closer and closer from where he floats deep within the void. They must drink of the blood of supernaturals. And in that, they must also drink of your blood-- The blood of an ally who is the snake in the sand. The serpent of Apep who bites, like the asp in the night." Turning his head to the side, the priest concludes with, "Do you understand what it is that I say?"
"Blood is power." Sam seems to agree, simply enough.
"I have several bags of prepared blood, they are meant for the Gate in Haven." He licks his lip some. "I can get more, likely."
He pauses, letting Apon Ra-tep speak. He looks to the priest, and pauses, savoring the energy of death within this place. "I'm understanding that you fucks are gonna make me get blood on my new suit." He rises slowly, fingering that focus of his.
"Now, or later, Brother?" He looks to the priest, studying the man... well, creature's face for any hint at betrayal or lying perhaps. Paranoid men live longer, after all.
As far as it is possible to tell, Apon is not speaking on untrue word. Sam feels this-- He knows it instinctively. He /knows/ it in his very soul. Sam is afforded another nod, and Apon's tongue flicks out, as if tasting the air-- Perhapse he is doing the same as Sam. "Your suit is nice. It would be a shame to get blood on it." the snake-man decides. There's a working; It's a casual motion of the ankh, and Sam feels the magic settle. It's a working that for what ever the reason, the earth does not have. A cantrip, if you will. A working of power- The expended energy of something menial. "Your garments will not feel sweat, nore blood, nore the blistering heat for eight hours." Sam is told. "Your blood should be saved. And when ready, you may use your bounty to sanctify an entire domain to Apep. For now, you are to infiltrate these Havenites. You are to join their number in the pit, and when possible, you are to lay your hand simply upon the tablets. One at a time, and with your own vitality unharmed. Your paint for this grand picture will be that of those you infiltrate. You, our asp. You fight beside them- Aid them to escape, if you will. But gather their blood. Have it spill within the circle. This is your final task. For once the working is completed, Apep will hear our prayers himself with no intermediary required. And should you wish for it, he will allow you to call forth an eidolon in his service, as we are granted our freedom from the House of Ra, and may raise the House of Apophis!"
A jolt goes through Sam's body each time that name is invoked. He smirks, and nods his head. His eyes gleam, and the shadows around him shudder in response. "It will be done."
"They will suspect me, so I will feign ignorance of the nature of his prison." H2 nods his head. "I will put on the mask of the un-knowing, and I shall bring about his coming."
At that working, he grins. "I like that." He nods his head in approval. "Once I do this, will I have you as an ally..." He pauses, a smirk crossing hsi face as he bares his teeth just a moment. "Or will you serve alongside the others?" He speaks, lifting a hand. "Show me when the time is there. No need to give our connection into the minds of Haven." He straightens out his suit, and nods again. "Touch the tablets, have their blood spilled..." He pauses. "I assume not just by me, yes? Spilled by any around."
"There will be those among the sheep. Asps, within the sands. Some know a lot, some a little, others just what is needed. I will instruct them not to intervene."
"Very good." Apon nods to Sam, and from his side, the fleshformed serpent man draws what looks to be a simple stone- It is not unusual. It is perfectly average; The kind of item one might find beside any body of water. Handing it over to the demigod, Apon Ra-Tep explains. "You will meet with them in Cairo. The stone will allow us to seek you and pull you into the nightmare. Once there, you will all be delivered here below, where you will fight for the glory of the great Apophis- He who is Apep." A moment passes before the priest answers Sam's question however. A pregnant silence as the snake-headed man decides on what responce to give. "We are allies. Though all you see here will be returning to hiding within the House of Ra within the guard realm once the working has concluded- Those who survive. Though you may call on me in your times of need, and I may send my agents." (He will be free as an NPC to be used in any plots or schemes you run for when ever you establish your cult)
With a nod, Sam takes the stone, and puts it in his pocket, smiling slightly. "Perfect." Sam smiles to Apon Ra-Tep, then. "Once we part, and if we meet in Cairo, I will ask you to keep the mask of animosity."
He smirks a little, and shrugs. "I do not know how willingly the sheep walk to the slaughter, but we'll see." He adjusts his sleeves some, and nods his head.
"Very well." He gives another nod, then. "I can work with that." A smile, then, and he taps a two-fingered salute. "I will return to Haven, so I can travel with them."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Sam. But honestly, this is fucking exciting, you know? Don't often get a fucking chance like this." He doesn't bother to take a train, or a plane, or any other mode of transportation beyond his own instincts and his Chevro-legs. His glass pipe rolls between his lips from one side or the other, radiating heat and fumes whilst walking through the dark forest that's on the way to here and everywhere. Novel takes in a deep breath - the pipe cooling, then heating again when he exhales, tromping through the gloomy, ominous place of silently watching pressure until they arrive at their locale - and then, a low, long whistle, clearly impressed as he pulls the pipe briefly from his lips. A grin, splaying across his features as they arrive upon the area. His eyes already taking mental notes.
"Fucking NICE."
I have a short cinematic for you, then the plot propper will begin. We're just giving a few minutes for Ritsuka-- If she doesn't show, we'll go without, as unfortunately Iris couldn't make it.
Novel is totally happy retconning his emote to make it fit better.
Ritsuka may join late, which is fine, so let's get this started for Novel and Sam. One moment as the SR quickly changes the series of opening emotes to fully set the scene.
Having made your ways to Egypt through various means; Pathing, flying, having been waiting for events in Cairo, you find yourselves astounded by the activity around you. Cairo, a sprawling metropolis of contrasts, stands at the crossroads of ancient and modern, its history as vast as the sands of the Nile that wind through its heart. This city, both ancient and perpetually in motion, breathes with the pulse of millennia, its rhythm as vivid as the call of the muezzin that echoes from the domes and minarets scattered like stars across the skyline. In the golden glow of dawn, the city awakens beneath a sky where the smoke of incense mingles with the tang of the early breeze, fragrant with spices and the dust of the desert. The towering minarets of historic mosques, from the grand mosque of Muhammad Ali at the Citadel to the more intimate, intricate spires of Al-Azhar, narrate stories of faith and ambition. The venerable pyramids of Giza, rising from the desert in silent majesty, stand as eternal witnesses to the ambitions of a civilization that defined engineering and science long before the modern world knew them. Their timeworn stones shimmer in the desert light, shadowed by the hustle and bustle of the city at their feet. Sam and Novel then conspire together as they deliberate on what they will have to do in order to continue here.
Every street in Cairo is a different layer of life, woven tightly into the tapestry of stories that demand to be heard. The narrow alleys of Cairo, known as Qaitbays quarter and Khan el-Khalili, teem with merchants whose stalls brim with exotic wares: rugs woven with intricate patterns that whisper the tales of Bedouin tribes, brass lanterns that catch the light like a thousand stars, and spices that mix into a heady perfume, reminding you of a world where the past is never truly past. There, voices rise and fall in an ever-present murmur, punctuated by the clink of copper and the chatter of bargaining, an old dance that is as familiar as the sigh of the Nile itself. Yet, hidden deep within those alley ways and thriving walkways lingers something deeper-- Something darker, as Cairo, as with Haven has its haunting underbelly of supernatural activity. And this activity is why you have been called. Venice has seen an impending issue. Your societies have their personal objectives. But what remains consistant is that the issues hidden below the sweltering sands are grim to the point of causing desolation if left unchecked. Though for Sam and Novel, these may be exactly what they intend to take place.
Cairo's paradox is its greatest strength: a place where ancient mysteries sit side-by-side with the echoes of what was lost, and the modern triumphs of humanity's ambitions. Here, the sound of the modern world meets the whispers of the past, and every stone, every street, every shadow has a story, waiting to tell. Its a city that doesnt just exist; it shouts, sings, and breathes - as alive now as it was millennia ago, caught forever between the sands of eternity and the waves of the vaunted river Nile. But deep within those shadows lays your stories; The tales that will be told, the songs that will be sang, the poetry of your lives leaping from stanza to stanza. And so Haven's termoil is left behind for this brief moment of reprieve, though its cursed refrain may prove itself to be far less forgiving-- Far more treacherous, with implications that could spell doom, should Apophis, the dark god, Apep be freed by those of the House of Ra who have decided to break the ancient decree: Those beings who seek to free the serpent from where Ra sealed him long ago in the void. And so, you likely did not expect what happens next. You knew this would be dangerous, but you would not have expected that you were nightmare pulled, rendered unconscious and were dragged, bound and gagged to another location: One from which there is seemingly no escape. One where you appear to have been expected. One where through the curious synergy of fate and serendipity, you were deposited like chaff into the very location that you were needing to find.
Awakening slowly, you find yourselves in the bason of a grand stadium. Carved from the very bedrock of Cairo's sand-whipped desert, the sky over head is daunting in its distance; Far far above, it is as parted from earth as heaven, and far less achievable in its approachability. Here though, in the pit, you are afforded a grand view: The walls of the arena are adorned with massive relief carvings that tell the stories of pharaohs and gods, in the classic Egyptian style, but with an unnatural twist of modern technology. The hieroglyphs are backlit using LED lighting embedded into the structure, casting an ethereal glow on the reliefs. At night, the carvings seem to come to life with dynamic lighting that shifts to evoke the history and mythology of ancient Egypt, while seamlessly integrating with light displays that modern architecture, and magic, allows. -- The seating bowl, far above you is a striking blend of GuardRealms-like terracing and modern comfort, with the main seating area consisting of stone and marble steps that echo the grand terraces of the temples of old- though cushioned and climate-controlled for modern audiences. Each row has been adorned with intricate patterns inspired by Egyptian motifs-like lotus flowers and spirals-carved into the stone and lined with gold accents. There is however an overwhelming influence that simply cant be ignored: Serpents, with this theme being continued not just through the archetecture, but in the occupants of those seats far over head. The arena floor itself, where you all find yourselves, is designed with versatility in mind: In the center, a vast open space, made of polished obsidion stretches out, the space and artistry blending into patterns that resemble an intricate floor mosaic, incorporating geometric designs- animal motifs, and stylized depictions of the Nile River-- And of course, serpents dominates attention from above, with a staggeringly obvious arcane design inlayed into it-- A triangle with a stone monolith at each of its points, each ancient as egypt itself, and depicting variations on the same theme: A serpentine demonic figure of chaotic lines and mind bending twists. (Those with an occult knowledge of 3 and above would recognize these to all be reliefs of the void god Apep, and would know him to be a being of chaos, dread and darkness represented more as a devil than a god in Ancient Egypt, and banished from the House of Ra for unspeakable acts in pre-history.) Left to your own devices, and with no escape, you can only assume the depraved acts demanded of you, for to the right and left of where you stand- Corresponding with convention, large gates would allow entry to either beasts or gladiators who would surely find themselves slaughtered for the glory of Apophis ad his twisted snake men.
//Feel free to set yourselves firmly within the setting, establish the character dynamics and we'll progress once you guys have read and had chance to emote
Strangely, Sam's clothes seem utterly free of sand, sweat, or even any dust. He straightens out, pulling his arcane focus out. Briefly, he leans towards Novel, and utters a few words.
He pauses, and looks around, heading to one of the monoliths, seemingly having a destination in mind, and he nods slowly.
The gathered serpent-men cheer. The sound is uproarious: Resounding and deafening, their foot falls, stamps and clapping assaulting your ears as a figure approaches from upon high. It is, like the others, snake-headed, its black scales and yellow eyes notable from even this far below. It stands upon a ledge, an ankh in one large hand, a solid gold, snake-headed staff in the other. Garbed in shendyte, lamella mantle and a pharaoh's snake-adorned head dress, it calls out, and even from here, Novel notes that the staff is designed for theatrics. It's something that Sam already knows, but the eyes in the head of the staff are LED lights, continuing the intermingled themes of old world Egyption theological imagery, and technological advancement through alchemical and arcane means. His words are hard to hear, though with the ambiance of this cavernous space-- And the grandiose nature of the arina's opulent expence, it doesn't take long before the PA systom triggers, the snake-headed man's rasping hiss amplified throughout. "Children of Apophis!" He intones with solemnity, "Blood of Apep's blood. We gather today to let blood." Pausing to allow the gathering to settle themselves, the priest-- For that must surely be what he is, raises his staff to the air. Silhouetted as he is from Novel and Sam's vantage, they note the power that radiates. "You have seen Bast's priestesses fight. You have seen the flesh formed. You have seen the felling of the Nilopic protector, the hippo, who is a symbol of she who guides those who fall to the lands of Ra and Osiris. But we are not yet complete. Our task is grand, but through your deliberation-- Through your devotion, the Great One grows close." Leaning forward in a pose that could almost be conspiring, the serpent continues,gesturing with staff and ankh both. "What you see below. What wou witness is the letting of blood of our enemies. Though now my friends. Now you will witness something far more grand. You will witness the blood of Apep himself fight for you. You will witness a demon. And you will witness the two combat one of Apep's greatest fiends. His harbinger. You will see these men fight the Abomination. Yes my friends, the Abomination. That beast that our Lord, the Mighty Apep created to oversee his slaves in an age long past." Then, the figure withdraws; Returning to the shadows from wence it emerged, Novel and Sam are left with the mystery: Just what is the Abomination? Can Sam and Novel take it? And will they be granted the time to prepare?" -- There are sounds coming from across the colosseum floor. Slithering, hissing, thunderous and echoing with the impending danger of the unknown- Apep's way."
Sam is not able to reach all three of the tablets in time. It's a wonderful showing, but with the size of the arina bason, and the ritualistic triangle within, along with the place of Sam and Novel directly within its center, he is only able to reach the one- It is the one Sam recalls from his vision within the dream. The one where Apep was depicted below the desert, not as a gigantic serpent, but a wicked, tentacular creature forged of serpents. The blood from the combat thus far has pooled enough that it has nearly reached the edging of the inlayed triangle, though it does not yet form a moat of viscous crimson. And yet, the stone monolyth responds to Sam's touch. There's a subtle vibration. There's not a flash, but the potential for it, as the carved and worn hieroglyphics beneath the depiction of the dark god begin to shine with a phosphorous gleaming that tugs on Sam's very being. -- And that is when Novel notices the shadow of the creature. Like a hydra from grecoroman mythology, the monster slithers forth, its multiple serpentine heads held high, its thirteen heads slithering atop its ophidion body. Each of its maws slaver with venom, their teeth like daggers, and each of its sets of eyes is flooded with an overpowering malice that suggests the inevitability of agony for any who get close enough. -- There is enough time for Novel to notice the skattered weapons: Daggers staves, pikes and spears, along with bronze lamella armor and the corpses of those who once donned them at the edges of the pit floor before the Abomination slithers fully into the neon studio lighting from above. This is, after all to be a grand spectacle, and the servantts of Apophis enthusiastically applaud the bout, even before it can begin. Something that resounds under foot and over head with equal measure. The very earth shakes, the air shudders and the Abomination- The harbinger becomes agitated. Slowly... Ever so slowly... The caged barrier between Novel, Sam and the hideous creature raises. Sam believes that he could make it half way to the next of the stone tablets before the gate fully rises, and the unnatural creature is upon them.
As the priest talks, Sam does not bow his head. Instead, he meets the man's eyes headon, and smirks slightly. Blood. Blood he can do.
As the pair are left waiting, Sam heads along to the first of the monoliths, pressing his hand onto the tablet there, his arcane focus -A human finger-bone around his neck- glowing faintly before he returns to Novel, and ticks an up-nod to him.
"Let's raise some hell, Novel! GO HAM!" He smirks, his tongue flicking from his mouth as he proceeds along, heading for the next monolith. "By His Will..." His voice slowly grows darker, the shimmer of haemomancy in the air as the jock arcanists seems to start an incantation, looking between Novel and the beast.
Is that an answer? Was there even a prayer? Sam may never know, but the haemomantic energy appears to flow with a greater virility than perhapse it should. It's not overpowering. It's not beyond the bounds of normality, but it is a solid, unquestionable verity. Slowly... So slowly... Torturously- Agonizingly slowly, the gate continues to rise; The Abomination's heads thrust forth before its body makes it through, slithering, wrathful evil in each and every slight shift of motion. And Sam can see it now. Sam can note the giant serpentine form. He sees it coil and uncoil. He sees it ready to gather itself up for a lashing, whip-like strike towards the most obvious target- Novel. Sam could pause to aid Novel, or he can rush for the second tablet. The choice is his, and either action seems as though it would please the bloodlust of the serpent-themed, fleshformed creatures filling the stands. Of course, Novel doesn't even vaguely look as though he suffers from triskaidekaphobia. Hell, he's a demon who's got some familiarity with the supernatural, let alone Sam who serves Apep. Novel is in a stadium, surrounded by fleshformed snakes that seem like the bastard love child of the late eighties: He-Man and Mummy's Alive, so there is unlikely to be danger of Ophidiophobia either. In fact, there it is. A big fucking target for Novel to fight. And it's not even fully free yet. By any measurement of reason, such a titanic creature will take at least a few more seconds to get free enough to start generating mayhem.
Novel meanders on after Sam, his hands shoved into the leather of his jacket - "Drama Queen," He mutters about the announcing, hissing, but there's a grin on his features. He's being drawn into the excitement. The blood of his blood, coursing with excitement, with the violence. The glowing gets an itnerested look, and then there's the clanking and the weapons and the armor. Hmmm. Consideration on his features - kevlar, at least he brought, tucked beneath his jacket. The armor that's familiar to him. Modern stuff. And then his gaze is upon the abomination. A deeply thoughtful look and a wicked smile. And then there's Sam calling out. He produces the long, shuddering relieved sigh, as he charges directly towards it. Violence and him come hand in hand, and the things he's scared of aren't normal at all.
But a monstrous creature to tackle, to fight? He's got PLANS. "HEY FUCKER," He calls out to the abomination as he thunders across the arena, scooping up one of the bladed sticks lying around and then CHUCKING it in the direction of the creature. He's got A Plan. Maybe it'll work. Away from Sam, away from the Monoliths, taking his feet... to the arena's edge. Towards the stands.
Without a pause, Sam barrels onward, towards that second tablet. He ticks another nod to Novel, and smirks. "Ya got this, right?"
He grins as he looks at Novel work, booking it towards that tablet, wincing as power courses through his body. Dark power, ancient power. He speaks, his voice yet again deepening even more as his eyes seem to glaze over with a deep darkness, his voice having a guttural, hissing undertone to it.
"By my blood..." His suit, strangely, is still impeccable. Not a spec of dust. Not a hint of sweat. The jock, though, seems sweating, though a focus is on his face that Novel likely has not seen before.
It seems that Novel's weird and wonderful plan might actually have born frute; The racing to the bason's extremity may take a while-- A few more seconds at least, but the thrown weapon does hit one of the Abomination's snouts. And it reacts just like any dum animal-- Just with twelve times the extra incoherant idiotic slobbering rage. It pulls back. It's going to strike then- *CLANG* It bounces off of the half-ascended port cullis of the barrier gate. This makes it even more furious, so it tries again and-- *CLANG!* The exact same thing happens- Unintelligent creatures are certainly not known for their brain power, and though the bladed shot didn't hurt it, it annoyed the hydra-like creature. So it tries another plan-- Yes, it does what any furious aberration would try in this situation. It attacks the gate, which only serves to further infuriate it. To the degree that it fails to notice the point where it could have managed to slither out entirely, in fact, and that gives Novel a few more seconds to reach the side of the arina. There's no hand holds though. There is an exceptionally high wall, and it's something that even an angelborn might struggle to clamber up. With the right degree of training in pathing though? That might make a difference. -- Just as with Novel's success and the Abomination's lack there of, Sam is also successful. He reaches and is able to touch the second monolythic tablet: This one shows the image of a treditional Apophis- The snake-headed god, with a human's body wielding a khopesh. The hieroglyphs begin to glow, though more blood must be spilled. That though can likely come from the Abomination if given enough time.
Kneeling down, Sam pauses, concentrating his power on that tablet, and looking towards that deep trench in the arena. He narrows his eyes, and looks to Novel, his face scrunched in concentration as he briefly considers grabbing his gun.
No, no, that's not a smart thing to do right now. Instead, he waits. Patiently. Magic takes time, after all.
"Good! More blood!" He grins to Novel, hands trembling as he keeps up the concentration on that tablet, scrunching up his face deeply as he looks at Novel's next move.
"PROBABLY," Novel calls back to Sam as he gathers up more things for throwing on the way over, daggers and sword and all fucking else lying around. Shit, this wall looked shorter a minute ago. There's a definite 'uhm' expression on his face as he's only picked up things for more ammo. Right, well, he's not teleporting himself UP the wall. No, that isn't a plan either, he can't fly - he lightly bounces one of the many pieces of metal and weaponry in his hand. MAYBE? "I'M FUCKING WORKING ON IT, SAM, GIVE ME A FUCKING MOMENT TO THINK DUMBASS." Okay, well. He's got A plan. It involves making handholds. He's got all these metal bits and plenty of strength to spare. So maybe if he just starts ramming things up the wall - he hopes the wall is soft enough and it doesn't just make the weapons instantly shatter when he tries to drive them in, or at least, carves enough of a grip for him to start clambering up as he huffs out his breath, red-faced and exerting himself in violence with weapons that are, by and large, unfamiliar to him except for the daggers.
The magic seems to be responding to Sam, and the air begins to thicken; It's almost as though walking into the pressure of a gale force wind. Still, Sam is able to start for the third and final tablet. It's the tablet where the two cat-headed priestesses of Bast died before, and between them and the mass of the hippo that died earlier as Sam watched on, this tablet has already been douced firmly in the life's blood of supernaturals... With a guest appearance from the hippo, which may not have been supernatural, but is sure providing a lot of blood. The Abomination in the meanwhile has figured out that someone had tricked it; You'd think that thirteen pea sized brains would be better than one, but either the time it has been imprisoned, the lack of a higher brain function, or general lack of anything more than lizard cognition may very well have inhibited its escape efforts. But not all's lost! It may have taken longer than it intended, but it has finally noticed that it can, in fact, get into the arena-- And so it does. It moves rapidly. It's surprisingly swift for a thing of its size and once it's figured out that it has found liberty, it takes full advantage, heads looking in all directions for the thing that threw a pointy at it. At the end of the day though, it is a dum animal-- Or a smart one driven mad. At this point it doesn't exactly matter. Especially to it, as it's found a prise! It's found a meal, and three of its heads begin to fight over a corpse as the others divide their attention between Sam and Novel. -- Novel is somewhat successful. The bason is obsidion, but the walls are sand stone, and Novel has more than enough strength to begin jamming things into it- How long they'll last is questionable, but at least if they fall out, there's a chance for hand holds, right?
Watching Novel, Sam sighs a little, chuckling out as he watches the man try to... scale the arena. Typical.
Nevertheless, Sam pushes onward, to the third tables, keeping one hand on that tablet as he squints an eye shut, and takes his glock, shooting at that snake-beast a few times. "Fuckin' DIE!"
After that shot, he refocusses, trying to draw the strength needed into the tablet. "By out Devotion..."
"We open the Maw of Duat!" He points his knife at the beast, dark magic flowing into it, the jock trying to blind it with magic.... if it's even alive, really. "Let's go!"
There it is! There is the tiny thing that threw the pointy, and gasp!!! it has more pointies! The Abomination snarls. It roars. It lets its displeasure known as its maws part and its drool proves itself acidic, the venom dripping from it's many heads sloshing down to leave steaming craters in the floor. Then it launches itself towards Novel. It speeds over the obsidion, its serpentine form, the power of the god, Apep empowering it, and the smoothness of the surface under it prepelling it- And it's ignoring Sam, who is able to reach, then touch the third of the tablets. The ground shudders under the unbearable pressure of ritualistic weight. But nothing happens... Why? Sam did as was explained to him. -- Blood. Sam needs more blood. A river of the vermilion vitality. And the largest target is the Abomination. The very thing that it was suggested that Sam and Novel fight. The very thing that's distracted as it seeks to run Novel down. Sam's haemomancy though: That's the game changer. Magic always is, and blinded, the harbinger thuds into the arena wall with a sickening, bone jarring impact that sends the followers of Apophis into a frenzy of their own, cat calls and cheering filling the air. And it's only doubled and redoubled once Sam produces his gun. Those shots fire, and how could Sam miss? His target is huge.. And there's no chance the hydra-like monster didn't notice those shots. It spins. It twists. It gets confused; It cant see a thing. And its blood is flowing.
Novel has a plan. It's a good plan, he thinks, he insists as the other man uses a gun while he's got his knife and a bundle of scavenged weapons tucked under his arm as he starts to drive back into monkey-instincts of scrambling up the wall awkwardly, jamming booted feet into holes and ramming home more grips for him to climb up... right into the stands. A rising creature in leather jacket and dust, apparently disinclined to try dueling some huge monstrosity in melee without some advantage.
To join the rest of the audience. To which he greets, to the cheers, with maniac grin and raising his hands, "HEY. YOU WANTED TO SEE SOME BLOODSHED." He's in a good mood. But there's something horrible about that smile, one that matches the split-faced expression that the snake-headed can do. And then he turns, to start hucking metal bits directly down, point extended, into the dazed and confused hydra-monster.
A dark chuckle escapes Sam's lips as he speaks. "Children of Apophis! Hear the call of Duat!" He clenches his fist, and points his finger to the beast, dark magic flowing through it, which seems to resonate with the very energy that shimmers around Sam.
The bleeding from it's wounds intensifies, and Sam starts to shoot round after round from that dingy pistol into the beast, even as Novel rains hell down upon it.
"Rise! Rise Serpent of Isfet!" He grins wide, pausing to reload his gun.
Confusion ensues as Novel's insane plan finds a curious success story. Where he might have expected to be tossed back down, the two serpent men, much to the chagrin of their neighbours begin helping Novel to throw things down: And as any club owner knows, it only takes one or two before a full blown mosh pit decides to make itself known. So what's not a fixture finds itself summarily tossed down- Daggers, empty snack packets, drink cartons- A nacho hat. Someone's entirely out-dated Y-fronts, a shendyte, and then an entire avalanch of detritus, and all around Novel the cheers and roaring of a croud having a great time continues. And the abomination has no idea what to do. It cant scale walls. So it does the only thing it can: It finds a new target, Sam, and it begins to drunkenly weave its way through everything tossed towards it- Then a chair hits it. -- Half-blind and unable to regenerate, those potshots begin to slow it, and its blood sloshes around like a teenaged girl's nethers when introduced, for the first time, to Edward Cullin. And that's when the ritual takes hold. The Abomination makes it to the center of the circle-- Directly in the center of that triangle of dark magic, and it suddenly just... Stops. It flops, heads spread out like limp noodles: The responce to the boy friends of those girls introduced to Twilight. Full circle. As the Abomination, now rendered terminally disfunctional loses what kept it from the duat. It dies, and up above, a full blown riot breaks out. -- Novel is in its center, and soeone-- A green-scaled being with quite fetching red and yellow diamond patterns hands him a can of Bud. - Apep is a god of chaos, so even this unlikely outcome has likely pleased him. And Sam has done likewise. The tablets shine, the ritual is complete and as Sam catches his breath, Apon Ra-Tep, the priest from earlier manifests from a shadow to grasp Sam by the forearm, raising it with a hissed roar of "Champion!" Though Apep has not manifested, Sam feels that his connection is deepening, if only the slightest hint. Apophis is deep within the void, after all, and returning a god is not so easy as a quick fix. It is enough however to have pleased Apon and the servants of the god of darkness and chaos. -- Some how... Novel and Sam were successful, and Apep is that step closer towards returning to plague the House of Ra with his insidious discombobulating evil.
Confusion ensues as Novel's insane plan finds a curious success story. Where he might have expected to be tossed back down, the two serpent men, much to the chagrin of their neighbours begin helping Novel to throw things down: And as any club owner knows, it only takes one or two before a full blown mosh pit decides to make itself known. So what's not a fixture finds itself summarily tossed down- Daggers, empty snack packets, drink cartons- A nacho hat. Someone's entirely out-dated Y-fronts, a shendyte, and then an entire avalanch of detritus, and all around Novel the cheers and roaring of a croud having a great time continues. And the abomination has no idea what to do. It cant scale walls. So it does the only thing it can: It finds a new target, Sam, and it begins to drunkenly weave its way through everything tossed towards it- Then a chair hits it. -- Half-blind and unable to regenerate, those potshots begin to slow it, and its blood sloshes around like a teenaged girl's nethers when introduced, for the first time, to Edward Cullin. And that's when the ritual takes hold. The Abomination makes it to the center of the circle-- Directly in the center of that triangle of dark magic, and it suddenly just... Stops. It flops, heads spread out like limp noodles: The responce to the boy friends of those girls introduced to Twilight. Full circle. As the Abomination, now rendered terminally disfunctional loses what kept it from the duat. It dies, and up above, a full blown riot breaks out. -- Novel is in its center, and soeone-- A green-scaled being with quite fetching red and yellow diamond patterns hands him a can of Bud. - Apep is a god of chaos, so even this unlikely outcome has likely pleased him. And Sam has done likewise. The tablets shine, the ritual is complete and as Sam catches his breath, Apon Ra-Tep, the priest from earlier manifests from a shadow to grasp Sam by the forearm, raising it with a hissed roar elp plotof "Champion!" Though Apep has not manifested, Sam feels that his connection is deepening, if only the slightest hint. Apophis is deep within the void, after all, and returning a god is not so easy as a quick fix. It is enough however to have pleased Apon and the servants of the god of darkness and chaos. -- Some how... Novel and Sam were successful, and Apep is that step closer towards returning to plague the House of Ra with his insidious discombobulating evil.
Confusion ensues as Novel's insane plan finds a curious success story. Where he might have expected to be tossed back down, the two serpent men, much to the chagrin of their neighbours begin helping Novel to throw things down: And as any club owner knows, it only takes one or two before a full blown mosh pit decides to make itself known. So what's not a fixture finds itself summarily tossed down- Daggers, empty snack packets, drink cartons- A nacho hat. Someone's entirely out-dated Y-fronts, a shendyte, and then an entire avalanch of detritus, and all around Novel the cheers and roaring of a croud having a great time continues. And the abomination has no idea what to do. It cant scale walls. So it does the only thing it can: It finds a new target, Sam, and it begins to drunkenly weave its way through everything tossed towards it- Then a chair hits it. -- Half-blind and unable to regenerate, those potshots begin to slow it, and itsquit blood sloshes around like a teenaged girl's nethers when introduced, for the first time, to Edward Cullin. And that's when the ritual takes hold. The Abomination makes it to the center of the circle-- Directly in the center of that triangle of dark magic, and it suddenly just... Stops. It flops, heads spread out like limp noodles: The responce to the boy friends of those girls introduced to Twilight. Full circle. As the Abomination, now rendered terminally disfunctional loses what kept it from the duat. It dies, and up above, a full blown riot breaks out. -- Novel is in its center, and soeone-- A green-scaled being with quite fetching red and yellow diamond patterns hands him a can of Bud. - Apep is a god of chaos, so even this unlikely outcome has likely pleased him. And Sam has done likewise. The tablets shine, the ritual is complete and as Sam catches his breath, Apon Ra-Tep, the priest from earlier manifests from a shadow to grasp Sam by the forearm, raising it with a hissed roar ell novel I need to quickly reset. My comp is having a fit.
The SR apologizes about that, a cat jumped on the computer.
Novel raises up a great cheer, adding, "GO SAM!" As his intention to jump down ONTO the creature from the back is aborted as it gets sacrificed, eaten, slapping a HIGH FIVE against the being the hands him the bud, cracking it open in his hand and knocking it back. Glug, glug, glug. Ahhh. Cheap beer. He chucks it aside - then promptly launches himself into the brawl. He's not there to kill anyone but.
He was never one to turn down a good fight as he engages in some energetic violence. Though when the priest starts calling for attention, the man disengages, hopping right back down - sliding down the sandstone wall, stumbling into the arena, grinning from ear-to-ear as he's covered in 'kisses' from bites and slashes and cuts, oozing blood and dribbling it all over the trench as he staggers his way back in, having left violence and delight in his wake.
"Today's been a good fucking day."
A low hiss escapes Sam's lips, and he raises both hands, grinning up at Novel. "BOO-YAAAH!"
He grins wide to Novel, and nods his head firmly. "Fuck yeah it has been!"
Amid all of this, Sam's suit is still, utterly impeccable. Sure, gore litters his face, his hands, and his hair, but his suit? As pristine as ever.
He looks at the stands above, and raises a fist up, the ourbouros on his cuff-links shining in the arena's dull light. "Complete! And! Utter! Victory!" He nods firmly, hopefully getting some silence. "Nothing less." His eyes shine with a black sheen, even though his entire form is shaking. Arcanism takes it's toll, after all.
If nothing else, Sam and Novel have most certainly created something gloriously insane. In fact, if the Vengeance of Ubaste were to try to identify what the fuck happened here, what they might find is utter ruination. It's not long before the entire colosseum resembles a frathouse party, and in retrospect, alcohol, bloodletting, a chaos god and two bar owners could only have gone one way; This one. And so of course, the success? Story is quite simply that, with Novel and Sam succeeding in their endeavours. Though Apep doesn't directly manifest, it is likely that in a few thousand years (After the near thirteen it takes for /this/ world to end), Apep will grow close enough to take a direct hand in mortal affairs. There is something tangible though. It's unseen, more a feeling than a visible, influencable aspect. It's in its infancy, though if cultivated, the seed of power that may become an eidolon has formed, dark, sinister and malevolent.
As an epic battle unfolds below, with the terrifying visage of a multi-headed Abomination unleashing havoc, Sam and Novel demonstrate their prowess and cunning in the face of impossible odds. Sam, embracing his role as a demigod of Apep, works to activate ancient tablets with his own blood and the blood of the supernatural creatures falling within the coliseum, all while engaging in haemomantic incantations and a ruthless display of combat.
Novel, on the other hand, employs an audacious strategy that turns the spectacle on its head. In a move that defies expectations, he rallies the audience—serpent-men abominations—to join in a frenzy of chaos, hurling debris at the Abomination. His daring escalates the conflict to new heights, drawing the creature's ire and confusion, ultimately contributing to its downfall and fueling the ritual with its blood.
The climax of this surreal and blood-soaked narrative sees the ritual reach its completion. The arena, now a vision of elation and chaos, celebrates as Sam and Novel stand victorious. Despite the fervor of their accomplishments, the air crackles with the potent sense of something more sinister brewing beneath the surface. The efforts of Sam and Novel have undeniably pushed Apep closer to his return, planting the seed for an eidolon birthed from darkness and malevolence.
Their triumph is not without its tolls, though, as the chaos sowed this day hints at the grim undertakings and the stirrings of a god of darkness. And while Apep's full manifestation remains in the distant future, the groundwork laid by Sam and Novel ensures that the call of Duat and the whispers of Isfet grow ever louder, heralding the impending resurgence of a force that may one day challenge the gods themselves.
(The call of Apophis(SRIllyana):SRIllyana)
[Fri Nov 29 2024]
In The coliseum of Apophis
Imagine if you will, a grand arena that marries the opulence and mystique of ancient Egypt with the sophistication of modern technology. This is where you find yourselves now. The colosseum is a monumental feat of hidden architecture that should simply not exist- And only can thanks to the skill and dedication of those supernatural forces that should never be evoked. As a testament to both ancient grandeur and contemporary engineering, it is a secretive marvel, with every aspect crawling with impending hostility, but also, a surprising beauty: Haunting and twisted with the supernatural shadows that pervade its every inch. Above, ornate terracing and modern seating thrives, the ranks upon ranks of observation seats filled with putrid abominations, fleshformed monsters with the heads of serpents who cheer and call out in a tongue not known by man in all too long. Where you stand, you find that The arena floor itself is designed with versatility in mind, a gigantic bason of obsidion- a vast open space made of polished stone with patterns that resemble an intricate Egyptian floor mosaic, incorporating geometric designs, animal motifs, and stylized depictions of the Nile River. Embedded within the floor, a deep trench forms a triangle; Crusted in blood and even now flowing with that life giving fluid that terminates on its points with three stone monoliths that depict various ideas of what the dark void being Apep must look like.
It is about 50F(10C) degrees.
Though Sam was relaxing without issue, kidnappings are nothing unusual for Haven township. They are frequent, with the syndicate, the factions and even independent antagonists deciding to take part in the age old tredition. It's as common as tourists, or submissive angels; Aggressive demonborn, capricious fae or arrogant demigods- But what is less common is the abductions that make it not through the nightmare, but through a direct pathed location. Sam finds his room infiltrated by snake-headed men in egyption garb, and he is given no choice but to obey. Before Sam can react, he finds himself placed into a trance, bound, gagged and removed with as little attention drawn to the situation as inhumanly possible; Which is likely all the more cause for worry when Sam finds himself unbound, ungagged and with no blindfold within the techno-arcane miracle that he wakes to. Not far away stands the figure from before: Apon Ra-Tep, complete with ankh and serpent staff awaits him, and from the vantage Sam finds himself in, he becomes aware that below, a grand pit fight is taking place. - Sam is in a box set aside for officials, of course. Outside, the followers of Apep sit; Rank upon rank of snake-headed abominations who cheer and chant in an ancient tongue the likes of which have not been heard in many... many years. Below, Sam can see the circular pit floor, the triangular design in its center, and to each of the triangle's corners, one of three tablets that look as ancient as the stones. Behind him is a sandstone tunnel: Sam remembers this from the dream, so by process of elimination, it's easy to see that the tablets must likewise be those saught by the ancient sorcerer from ancient egypt- Sam finds himself within the grand coliseum of Apophis!
Once the initial adrenaline calms down, Sam looks around, offering Apon an upnod as he looks down. His eyes scan the form, and he recognizes the triangular shape he himself uses in rites.
He sniffs the air, and pulls out his focus from under his jacket, present company making the jock arcanist not really worry about being indiscreet as he flicks his tongue from his mouth, trying to taste or take measure of the local energies.
"You, Sam Fisher are the only one of Lord Apep's progeny to have successfully navigated and succeeded in the tasks set out for all of you." Apon Ra-Tep informs Sam, from where he stands, hooded head directed to the gathering below. His staff is firmly planted, the LED lighting in the eyes of the snake head glinting against the sandstone backdrop. "You have witnessed the memories of Apon-Apep-Ca, his first herald, who fell in seeking the deity's return from wence Ra, in his struggle of day and night- Dawn and dusk- Light and dark banished the Great One to the void. And now you witness what it is that we, the Children of Apophis have rendered in flesh and stone." Gesturing out over the bason with ankh in hand, Apon observes as a hippo is braught forth, and a bout between it, and two cat-headed women unfolds. "You see how we are all unified in this task? You see how the world answers the call." The serpent priest of Apep allows Sam to process the situation, the hippo and the feline women's combat short, violent and chaotic; The hippo looks as though it will take the victory over both, but the feline headed women-- Servants or priestesses of Bast overwhelm it with sorcery and martial prowesse. -- The air is thick. It is flooded with a blending of modern convenience: The scents and sounds of twenty first century cleaning agents, arcane and alchemic chemicals and the dry musk of desert and reptiles. But so too can Sam taste the blood in the air: He feels the power-- The worship-- The prayers to Apep. Sam also hears the prayers of other gods- Those slaughtered in utero by the creeping, clawing power of Apep himself.
"Well, then that must mean I was meant to be here, innit?" Sam grins, with that, indeed common, arrogance of Demigods. He looks to Apon Ra-Tep, and gives a slightly amused smirk. "Next time, send me an invitation, Brother."
He does not sound terribly upset, rather, he breathes in the scent of blood, and takes a moment to just drink in the arcana, the prayer, and to scowl at the stifled wishes of the weak below.
"There is a stirring in Haven, people are moving towards Cairo." He speaks, simply. "The Tablets. Do we seek to break them, or to fuel them?" He inquires, enjoying the bout below with a sadistic sort of grin. Seems among like-minded individuals, the Demigod does not need to mask his in-humanity.
Sam speaks, Apon Ra-Tep listens and he nods. Sam appears to have the lay of the land and he very much agrees with the willingness of Apep's blood. "We are aware of those who seek to disrupt the ritual. It is why we have chosen you. You are aware of them. You interact with them. You are able to appreciate how they work. Haven's proximity to the gates has created mutations. It has developed more supernaturals on this world than is of reason. They grow powerful quickly, and it is powerful blood we wish to feed to Apep's ritual. And so, yet one more task is before you." Apon Ra-Tep informs Sam. "For such things are not so easily done. There are conditions that must be met. There are obligations to be upheld; We, who have served Apep for time immemorial are not permitted to conclude this grand working. The House of Ra has forbade it under divine edict. Though mortals of his blood, such as you have the freedoms we do not." Nodding to himself, the serpent priest makes an approving sound as the cat-headed women next turn on each other; something about the arina appears to have forced combat between them- And all the while, each death, each pool of blood, each welling and disruption of life force draws that air slightly thicker with power. This has been going on for quite some time if Sam is any judge. It is only after the Bastet priestesses take each other's lives with spear, arcana and knife that Apon Ra-Tep answers the other of Sam's questions though. Though he gives Sam an answer that is very much what he needs to hear. "Each of the tablets you see down there are focus points for the Great One's energy. They empower him. They strengthen him. They draw him closer and closer from where he floats deep within the void. They must drink of the blood of supernaturals. And in that, they must also drink of your blood-- The blood of an ally who is the snake in the sand. The serpent of Apep who bites, like the asp in the night." Turning his head to the side, the priest concludes with, "Do you understand what it is that I say?"
"Blood is power." Sam seems to agree, simply enough.
"I have several bags of prepared blood, they are meant for the Gate in Haven." He licks his lip some. "I can get more, likely."
He pauses, letting Apon Ra-tep speak. He looks to the priest, and pauses, savoring the energy of death within this place. "I'm understanding that you fucks are gonna make me get blood on my new suit." He rises slowly, fingering that focus of his.
"Now, or later, Brother?" He looks to the priest, studying the man... well, creature's face for any hint at betrayal or lying perhaps. Paranoid men live longer, after all.
As far as it is possible to tell, Apon is not speaking on untrue word. Sam feels this-- He knows it instinctively. He /knows/ it in his very soul. Sam is afforded another nod, and Apon's tongue flicks out, as if tasting the air-- Perhapse he is doing the same as Sam. "Your suit is nice. It would be a shame to get blood on it." the snake-man decides. There's a working; It's a casual motion of the ankh, and Sam feels the magic settle. It's a working that for what ever the reason, the earth does not have. A cantrip, if you will. A working of power- The expended energy of something menial. "Your garments will not feel sweat, nore blood, nore the blistering heat for eight hours." Sam is told. "Your blood should be saved. And when ready, you may use your bounty to sanctify an entire domain to Apep. For now, you are to infiltrate these Havenites. You are to join their number in the pit, and when possible, you are to lay your hand simply upon the tablets. One at a time, and with your own vitality unharmed. Your paint for this grand picture will be that of those you infiltrate. You, our asp. You fight beside them- Aid them to escape, if you will. But gather their blood. Have it spill within the circle. This is your final task. For once the working is completed, Apep will hear our prayers himself with no intermediary required. And should you wish for it, he will allow you to call forth an eidolon in his service, as we are granted our freedom from the House of Ra, and may raise the House of Apophis!"
A jolt goes through Sam's body each time that name is invoked. He smirks, and nods his head. His eyes gleam, and the shadows around him shudder in response. "It will be done."
"They will suspect me, so I will feign ignorance of the nature of his prison." H2 nods his head. "I will put on the mask of the un-knowing, and I shall bring about his coming."
At that working, he grins. "I like that." He nods his head in approval. "Once I do this, will I have you as an ally..." He pauses, a smirk crossing hsi face as he bares his teeth just a moment. "Or will you serve alongside the others?" He speaks, lifting a hand. "Show me when the time is there. No need to give our connection into the minds of Haven." He straightens out his suit, and nods again. "Touch the tablets, have their blood spilled..." He pauses. "I assume not just by me, yes? Spilled by any around."
"There will be those among the sheep. Asps, within the sands. Some know a lot, some a little, others just what is needed. I will instruct them not to intervene."
"Very good." Apon nods to Sam, and from his side, the fleshformed serpent man draws what looks to be a simple stone- It is not unusual. It is perfectly average; The kind of item one might find beside any body of water. Handing it over to the demigod, Apon Ra-Tep explains. "You will meet with them in Cairo. The stone will allow us to seek you and pull you into the nightmare. Once there, you will all be delivered here below, where you will fight for the glory of the great Apophis- He who is Apep." A moment passes before the priest answers Sam's question however. A pregnant silence as the snake-headed man decides on what responce to give. "We are allies. Though all you see here will be returning to hiding within the House of Ra within the guard realm once the working has concluded- Those who survive. Though you may call on me in your times of need, and I may send my agents." (He will be free as an NPC to be used in any plots or schemes you run for when ever you establish your cult)
With a nod, Sam takes the stone, and puts it in his pocket, smiling slightly. "Perfect." Sam smiles to Apon Ra-Tep, then. "Once we part, and if we meet in Cairo, I will ask you to keep the mask of animosity."
He smirks a little, and shrugs. "I do not know how willingly the sheep walk to the slaughter, but we'll see." He adjusts his sleeves some, and nods his head.
"Very well." He gives another nod, then. "I can work with that." A smile, then, and he taps a two-fingered salute. "I will return to Haven, so I can travel with them."
"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Sam. But honestly, this is fucking exciting, you know? Don't often get a fucking chance like this." He doesn't bother to take a train, or a plane, or any other mode of transportation beyond his own instincts and his Chevro-legs. His glass pipe rolls between his lips from one side or the other, radiating heat and fumes whilst walking through the dark forest that's on the way to here and everywhere. Novel takes in a deep breath - the pipe cooling, then heating again when he exhales, tromping through the gloomy, ominous place of silently watching pressure until they arrive at their locale - and then, a low, long whistle, clearly impressed as he pulls the pipe briefly from his lips. A grin, splaying across his features as they arrive upon the area. His eyes already taking mental notes.
"Fucking NICE."
I have a short cinematic for you, then the plot propper will begin. We're just giving a few minutes for Ritsuka-- If she doesn't show, we'll go without, as unfortunately Iris couldn't make it.
Novel is totally happy retconning his emote to make it fit better.
Ritsuka may join late, which is fine, so let's get this started for Novel and Sam. One moment as the SR quickly changes the series of opening emotes to fully set the scene.
Having made your ways to Egypt through various means; Pathing, flying, having been waiting for events in Cairo, you find yourselves astounded by the activity around you. Cairo, a sprawling metropolis of contrasts, stands at the crossroads of ancient and modern, its history as vast as the sands of the Nile that wind through its heart. This city, both ancient and perpetually in motion, breathes with the pulse of millennia, its rhythm as vivid as the call of the muezzin that echoes from the domes and minarets scattered like stars across the skyline. In the golden glow of dawn, the city awakens beneath a sky where the smoke of incense mingles with the tang of the early breeze, fragrant with spices and the dust of the desert. The towering minarets of historic mosques, from the grand mosque of Muhammad Ali at the Citadel to the more intimate, intricate spires of Al-Azhar, narrate stories of faith and ambition. The venerable pyramids of Giza, rising from the desert in silent majesty, stand as eternal witnesses to the ambitions of a civilization that defined engineering and science long before the modern world knew them. Their timeworn stones shimmer in the desert light, shadowed by the hustle and bustle of the city at their feet. Sam and Novel then conspire together as they deliberate on what they will have to do in order to continue here.
Every street in Cairo is a different layer of life, woven tightly into the tapestry of stories that demand to be heard. The narrow alleys of Cairo, known as Qaitbays quarter and Khan el-Khalili, teem with merchants whose stalls brim with exotic wares: rugs woven with intricate patterns that whisper the tales of Bedouin tribes, brass lanterns that catch the light like a thousand stars, and spices that mix into a heady perfume, reminding you of a world where the past is never truly past. There, voices rise and fall in an ever-present murmur, punctuated by the clink of copper and the chatter of bargaining, an old dance that is as familiar as the sigh of the Nile itself. Yet, hidden deep within those alley ways and thriving walkways lingers something deeper-- Something darker, as Cairo, as with Haven has its haunting underbelly of supernatural activity. And this activity is why you have been called. Venice has seen an impending issue. Your societies have their personal objectives. But what remains consistant is that the issues hidden below the sweltering sands are grim to the point of causing desolation if left unchecked. Though for Sam and Novel, these may be exactly what they intend to take place.
Cairo's paradox is its greatest strength: a place where ancient mysteries sit side-by-side with the echoes of what was lost, and the modern triumphs of humanity's ambitions. Here, the sound of the modern world meets the whispers of the past, and every stone, every street, every shadow has a story, waiting to tell. Its a city that doesnt just exist; it shouts, sings, and breathes - as alive now as it was millennia ago, caught forever between the sands of eternity and the waves of the vaunted river Nile. But deep within those shadows lays your stories; The tales that will be told, the songs that will be sang, the poetry of your lives leaping from stanza to stanza. And so Haven's termoil is left behind for this brief moment of reprieve, though its cursed refrain may prove itself to be far less forgiving-- Far more treacherous, with implications that could spell doom, should Apophis, the dark god, Apep be freed by those of the House of Ra who have decided to break the ancient decree: Those beings who seek to free the serpent from where Ra sealed him long ago in the void. And so, you likely did not expect what happens next. You knew this would be dangerous, but you would not have expected that you were nightmare pulled, rendered unconscious and were dragged, bound and gagged to another location: One from which there is seemingly no escape. One where you appear to have been expected. One where through the curious synergy of fate and serendipity, you were deposited like chaff into the very location that you were needing to find.
Awakening slowly, you find yourselves in the bason of a grand stadium. Carved from the very bedrock of Cairo's sand-whipped desert, the sky over head is daunting in its distance; Far far above, it is as parted from earth as heaven, and far less achievable in its approachability. Here though, in the pit, you are afforded a grand view: The walls of the arena are adorned with massive relief carvings that tell the stories of pharaohs and gods, in the classic Egyptian style, but with an unnatural twist of modern technology. The hieroglyphs are backlit using LED lighting embedded into the structure, casting an ethereal glow on the reliefs. At night, the carvings seem to come to life with dynamic lighting that shifts to evoke the history and mythology of ancient Egypt, while seamlessly integrating with light displays that modern architecture, and magic, allows. -- The seating bowl, far above you is a striking blend of GuardRealms-like terracing and modern comfort, with the main seating area consisting of stone and marble steps that echo the grand terraces of the temples of old- though cushioned and climate-controlled for modern audiences. Each row has been adorned with intricate patterns inspired by Egyptian motifs-like lotus flowers and spirals-carved into the stone and lined with gold accents. There is however an overwhelming influence that simply cant be ignored: Serpents, with this theme being continued not just through the archetecture, but in the occupants of those seats far over head. The arena floor itself, where you all find yourselves, is designed with versatility in mind: In the center, a vast open space, made of polished obsidion stretches out, the space and artistry blending into patterns that resemble an intricate floor mosaic, incorporating geometric designs- animal motifs, and stylized depictions of the Nile River-- And of course, serpents dominates attention from above, with a staggeringly obvious arcane design inlayed into it-- A triangle with a stone monolith at each of its points, each ancient as egypt itself, and depicting variations on the same theme: A serpentine demonic figure of chaotic lines and mind bending twists. (Those with an occult knowledge of 3 and above would recognize these to all be reliefs of the void god Apep, and would know him to be a being of chaos, dread and darkness represented more as a devil than a god in Ancient Egypt, and banished from the House of Ra for unspeakable acts in pre-history.) Left to your own devices, and with no escape, you can only assume the depraved acts demanded of you, for to the right and left of where you stand- Corresponding with convention, large gates would allow entry to either beasts or gladiators who would surely find themselves slaughtered for the glory of Apophis ad his twisted snake men.
//Feel free to set yourselves firmly within the setting, establish the character dynamics and we'll progress once you guys have read and had chance to emote
Strangely, Sam's clothes seem utterly free of sand, sweat, or even any dust. He straightens out, pulling his arcane focus out. Briefly, he leans towards Novel, and utters a few words.
He pauses, and looks around, heading to one of the monoliths, seemingly having a destination in mind, and he nods slowly.
The gathered serpent-men cheer. The sound is uproarious: Resounding and deafening, their foot falls, stamps and clapping assaulting your ears as a figure approaches from upon high. It is, like the others, snake-headed, its black scales and yellow eyes notable from even this far below. It stands upon a ledge, an ankh in one large hand, a solid gold, snake-headed staff in the other. Garbed in shendyte, lamella mantle and a pharaoh's snake-adorned head dress, it calls out, and even from here, Novel notes that the staff is designed for theatrics. It's something that Sam already knows, but the eyes in the head of the staff are LED lights, continuing the intermingled themes of old world Egyption theological imagery, and technological advancement through alchemical and arcane means. His words are hard to hear, though with the ambiance of this cavernous space-- And the grandiose nature of the arina's opulent expence, it doesn't take long before the PA systom triggers, the snake-headed man's rasping hiss amplified throughout. "Children of Apophis!" He intones with solemnity, "Blood of Apep's blood. We gather today to let blood." Pausing to allow the gathering to settle themselves, the priest-- For that must surely be what he is, raises his staff to the air. Silhouetted as he is from Novel and Sam's vantage, they note the power that radiates. "You have seen Bast's priestesses fight. You have seen the flesh formed. You have seen the felling of the Nilopic protector, the hippo, who is a symbol of she who guides those who fall to the lands of Ra and Osiris. But we are not yet complete. Our task is grand, but through your deliberation-- Through your devotion, the Great One grows close." Leaning forward in a pose that could almost be conspiring, the serpent continues,gesturing with staff and ankh both. "What you see below. What wou witness is the letting of blood of our enemies. Though now my friends. Now you will witness something far more grand. You will witness the blood of Apep himself fight for you. You will witness a demon. And you will witness the two combat one of Apep's greatest fiends. His harbinger. You will see these men fight the Abomination. Yes my friends, the Abomination. That beast that our Lord, the Mighty Apep created to oversee his slaves in an age long past." Then, the figure withdraws; Returning to the shadows from wence it emerged, Novel and Sam are left with the mystery: Just what is the Abomination? Can Sam and Novel take it? And will they be granted the time to prepare?" -- There are sounds coming from across the colosseum floor. Slithering, hissing, thunderous and echoing with the impending danger of the unknown- Apep's way."
Sam is not able to reach all three of the tablets in time. It's a wonderful showing, but with the size of the arina bason, and the ritualistic triangle within, along with the place of Sam and Novel directly within its center, he is only able to reach the one- It is the one Sam recalls from his vision within the dream. The one where Apep was depicted below the desert, not as a gigantic serpent, but a wicked, tentacular creature forged of serpents. The blood from the combat thus far has pooled enough that it has nearly reached the edging of the inlayed triangle, though it does not yet form a moat of viscous crimson. And yet, the stone monolyth responds to Sam's touch. There's a subtle vibration. There's not a flash, but the potential for it, as the carved and worn hieroglyphics beneath the depiction of the dark god begin to shine with a phosphorous gleaming that tugs on Sam's very being. -- And that is when Novel notices the shadow of the creature. Like a hydra from grecoroman mythology, the monster slithers forth, its multiple serpentine heads held high, its thirteen heads slithering atop its ophidion body. Each of its maws slaver with venom, their teeth like daggers, and each of its sets of eyes is flooded with an overpowering malice that suggests the inevitability of agony for any who get close enough. -- There is enough time for Novel to notice the skattered weapons: Daggers staves, pikes and spears, along with bronze lamella armor and the corpses of those who once donned them at the edges of the pit floor before the Abomination slithers fully into the neon studio lighting from above. This is, after all to be a grand spectacle, and the servantts of Apophis enthusiastically applaud the bout, even before it can begin. Something that resounds under foot and over head with equal measure. The very earth shakes, the air shudders and the Abomination- The harbinger becomes agitated. Slowly... Ever so slowly... The caged barrier between Novel, Sam and the hideous creature raises. Sam believes that he could make it half way to the next of the stone tablets before the gate fully rises, and the unnatural creature is upon them.
As the priest talks, Sam does not bow his head. Instead, he meets the man's eyes headon, and smirks slightly. Blood. Blood he can do.
As the pair are left waiting, Sam heads along to the first of the monoliths, pressing his hand onto the tablet there, his arcane focus -A human finger-bone around his neck- glowing faintly before he returns to Novel, and ticks an up-nod to him.
"Let's raise some hell, Novel! GO HAM!" He smirks, his tongue flicking from his mouth as he proceeds along, heading for the next monolith. "By His Will..." His voice slowly grows darker, the shimmer of haemomancy in the air as the jock arcanists seems to start an incantation, looking between Novel and the beast.
Is that an answer? Was there even a prayer? Sam may never know, but the haemomantic energy appears to flow with a greater virility than perhapse it should. It's not overpowering. It's not beyond the bounds of normality, but it is a solid, unquestionable verity. Slowly... So slowly... Torturously- Agonizingly slowly, the gate continues to rise; The Abomination's heads thrust forth before its body makes it through, slithering, wrathful evil in each and every slight shift of motion. And Sam can see it now. Sam can note the giant serpentine form. He sees it coil and uncoil. He sees it ready to gather itself up for a lashing, whip-like strike towards the most obvious target- Novel. Sam could pause to aid Novel, or he can rush for the second tablet. The choice is his, and either action seems as though it would please the bloodlust of the serpent-themed, fleshformed creatures filling the stands. Of course, Novel doesn't even vaguely look as though he suffers from triskaidekaphobia. Hell, he's a demon who's got some familiarity with the supernatural, let alone Sam who serves Apep. Novel is in a stadium, surrounded by fleshformed snakes that seem like the bastard love child of the late eighties: He-Man and Mummy's Alive, so there is unlikely to be danger of Ophidiophobia either. In fact, there it is. A big fucking target for Novel to fight. And it's not even fully free yet. By any measurement of reason, such a titanic creature will take at least a few more seconds to get free enough to start generating mayhem.
Novel meanders on after Sam, his hands shoved into the leather of his jacket - "Drama Queen," He mutters about the announcing, hissing, but there's a grin on his features. He's being drawn into the excitement. The blood of his blood, coursing with excitement, with the violence. The glowing gets an itnerested look, and then there's the clanking and the weapons and the armor. Hmmm. Consideration on his features - kevlar, at least he brought, tucked beneath his jacket. The armor that's familiar to him. Modern stuff. And then his gaze is upon the abomination. A deeply thoughtful look and a wicked smile. And then there's Sam calling out. He produces the long, shuddering relieved sigh, as he charges directly towards it. Violence and him come hand in hand, and the things he's scared of aren't normal at all.
But a monstrous creature to tackle, to fight? He's got PLANS. "HEY FUCKER," He calls out to the abomination as he thunders across the arena, scooping up one of the bladed sticks lying around and then CHUCKING it in the direction of the creature. He's got A Plan. Maybe it'll work. Away from Sam, away from the Monoliths, taking his feet... to the arena's edge. Towards the stands.
Without a pause, Sam barrels onward, towards that second tablet. He ticks another nod to Novel, and smirks. "Ya got this, right?"
He grins as he looks at Novel work, booking it towards that tablet, wincing as power courses through his body. Dark power, ancient power. He speaks, his voice yet again deepening even more as his eyes seem to glaze over with a deep darkness, his voice having a guttural, hissing undertone to it.
"By my blood..." His suit, strangely, is still impeccable. Not a spec of dust. Not a hint of sweat. The jock, though, seems sweating, though a focus is on his face that Novel likely has not seen before.
It seems that Novel's weird and wonderful plan might actually have born frute; The racing to the bason's extremity may take a while-- A few more seconds at least, but the thrown weapon does hit one of the Abomination's snouts. And it reacts just like any dum animal-- Just with twelve times the extra incoherant idiotic slobbering rage. It pulls back. It's going to strike then- *CLANG* It bounces off of the half-ascended port cullis of the barrier gate. This makes it even more furious, so it tries again and-- *CLANG!* The exact same thing happens- Unintelligent creatures are certainly not known for their brain power, and though the bladed shot didn't hurt it, it annoyed the hydra-like creature. So it tries another plan-- Yes, it does what any furious aberration would try in this situation. It attacks the gate, which only serves to further infuriate it. To the degree that it fails to notice the point where it could have managed to slither out entirely, in fact, and that gives Novel a few more seconds to reach the side of the arina. There's no hand holds though. There is an exceptionally high wall, and it's something that even an angelborn might struggle to clamber up. With the right degree of training in pathing though? That might make a difference. -- Just as with Novel's success and the Abomination's lack there of, Sam is also successful. He reaches and is able to touch the second monolythic tablet: This one shows the image of a treditional Apophis- The snake-headed god, with a human's body wielding a khopesh. The hieroglyphs begin to glow, though more blood must be spilled. That though can likely come from the Abomination if given enough time.
Kneeling down, Sam pauses, concentrating his power on that tablet, and looking towards that deep trench in the arena. He narrows his eyes, and looks to Novel, his face scrunched in concentration as he briefly considers grabbing his gun.
No, no, that's not a smart thing to do right now. Instead, he waits. Patiently. Magic takes time, after all.
"Good! More blood!" He grins to Novel, hands trembling as he keeps up the concentration on that tablet, scrunching up his face deeply as he looks at Novel's next move.
"PROBABLY," Novel calls back to Sam as he gathers up more things for throwing on the way over, daggers and sword and all fucking else lying around. Shit, this wall looked shorter a minute ago. There's a definite 'uhm' expression on his face as he's only picked up things for more ammo. Right, well, he's not teleporting himself UP the wall. No, that isn't a plan either, he can't fly - he lightly bounces one of the many pieces of metal and weaponry in his hand. MAYBE? "I'M FUCKING WORKING ON IT, SAM, GIVE ME A FUCKING MOMENT TO THINK DUMBASS." Okay, well. He's got A plan. It involves making handholds. He's got all these metal bits and plenty of strength to spare. So maybe if he just starts ramming things up the wall - he hopes the wall is soft enough and it doesn't just make the weapons instantly shatter when he tries to drive them in, or at least, carves enough of a grip for him to start clambering up as he huffs out his breath, red-faced and exerting himself in violence with weapons that are, by and large, unfamiliar to him except for the daggers.
The magic seems to be responding to Sam, and the air begins to thicken; It's almost as though walking into the pressure of a gale force wind. Still, Sam is able to start for the third and final tablet. It's the tablet where the two cat-headed priestesses of Bast died before, and between them and the mass of the hippo that died earlier as Sam watched on, this tablet has already been douced firmly in the life's blood of supernaturals... With a guest appearance from the hippo, which may not have been supernatural, but is sure providing a lot of blood. The Abomination in the meanwhile has figured out that someone had tricked it; You'd think that thirteen pea sized brains would be better than one, but either the time it has been imprisoned, the lack of a higher brain function, or general lack of anything more than lizard cognition may very well have inhibited its escape efforts. But not all's lost! It may have taken longer than it intended, but it has finally noticed that it can, in fact, get into the arena-- And so it does. It moves rapidly. It's surprisingly swift for a thing of its size and once it's figured out that it has found liberty, it takes full advantage, heads looking in all directions for the thing that threw a pointy at it. At the end of the day though, it is a dum animal-- Or a smart one driven mad. At this point it doesn't exactly matter. Especially to it, as it's found a prise! It's found a meal, and three of its heads begin to fight over a corpse as the others divide their attention between Sam and Novel. -- Novel is somewhat successful. The bason is obsidion, but the walls are sand stone, and Novel has more than enough strength to begin jamming things into it- How long they'll last is questionable, but at least if they fall out, there's a chance for hand holds, right?
Watching Novel, Sam sighs a little, chuckling out as he watches the man try to... scale the arena. Typical.
Nevertheless, Sam pushes onward, to the third tables, keeping one hand on that tablet as he squints an eye shut, and takes his glock, shooting at that snake-beast a few times. "Fuckin' DIE!"
After that shot, he refocusses, trying to draw the strength needed into the tablet. "By out Devotion..."
"We open the Maw of Duat!" He points his knife at the beast, dark magic flowing into it, the jock trying to blind it with magic.... if it's even alive, really. "Let's go!"
There it is! There is the tiny thing that threw the pointy, and gasp!!! it has more pointies! The Abomination snarls. It roars. It lets its displeasure known as its maws part and its drool proves itself acidic, the venom dripping from it's many heads sloshing down to leave steaming craters in the floor. Then it launches itself towards Novel. It speeds over the obsidion, its serpentine form, the power of the god, Apep empowering it, and the smoothness of the surface under it prepelling it- And it's ignoring Sam, who is able to reach, then touch the third of the tablets. The ground shudders under the unbearable pressure of ritualistic weight. But nothing happens... Why? Sam did as was explained to him. -- Blood. Sam needs more blood. A river of the vermilion vitality. And the largest target is the Abomination. The very thing that it was suggested that Sam and Novel fight. The very thing that's distracted as it seeks to run Novel down. Sam's haemomancy though: That's the game changer. Magic always is, and blinded, the harbinger thuds into the arena wall with a sickening, bone jarring impact that sends the followers of Apophis into a frenzy of their own, cat calls and cheering filling the air. And it's only doubled and redoubled once Sam produces his gun. Those shots fire, and how could Sam miss? His target is huge.. And there's no chance the hydra-like monster didn't notice those shots. It spins. It twists. It gets confused; It cant see a thing. And its blood is flowing.
Novel has a plan. It's a good plan, he thinks, he insists as the other man uses a gun while he's got his knife and a bundle of scavenged weapons tucked under his arm as he starts to drive back into monkey-instincts of scrambling up the wall awkwardly, jamming booted feet into holes and ramming home more grips for him to climb up... right into the stands. A rising creature in leather jacket and dust, apparently disinclined to try dueling some huge monstrosity in melee without some advantage.
To join the rest of the audience. To which he greets, to the cheers, with maniac grin and raising his hands, "HEY. YOU WANTED TO SEE SOME BLOODSHED." He's in a good mood. But there's something horrible about that smile, one that matches the split-faced expression that the snake-headed can do. And then he turns, to start hucking metal bits directly down, point extended, into the dazed and confused hydra-monster.
A dark chuckle escapes Sam's lips as he speaks. "Children of Apophis! Hear the call of Duat!" He clenches his fist, and points his finger to the beast, dark magic flowing through it, which seems to resonate with the very energy that shimmers around Sam.
The bleeding from it's wounds intensifies, and Sam starts to shoot round after round from that dingy pistol into the beast, even as Novel rains hell down upon it.
"Rise! Rise Serpent of Isfet!" He grins wide, pausing to reload his gun.
Confusion ensues as Novel's insane plan finds a curious success story. Where he might have expected to be tossed back down, the two serpent men, much to the chagrin of their neighbours begin helping Novel to throw things down: And as any club owner knows, it only takes one or two before a full blown mosh pit decides to make itself known. So what's not a fixture finds itself summarily tossed down- Daggers, empty snack packets, drink cartons- A nacho hat. Someone's entirely out-dated Y-fronts, a shendyte, and then an entire avalanch of detritus, and all around Novel the cheers and roaring of a croud having a great time continues. And the abomination has no idea what to do. It cant scale walls. So it does the only thing it can: It finds a new target, Sam, and it begins to drunkenly weave its way through everything tossed towards it- Then a chair hits it. -- Half-blind and unable to regenerate, those potshots begin to slow it, and its blood sloshes around like a teenaged girl's nethers when introduced, for the first time, to Edward Cullin. And that's when the ritual takes hold. The Abomination makes it to the center of the circle-- Directly in the center of that triangle of dark magic, and it suddenly just... Stops. It flops, heads spread out like limp noodles: The responce to the boy friends of those girls introduced to Twilight. Full circle. As the Abomination, now rendered terminally disfunctional loses what kept it from the duat. It dies, and up above, a full blown riot breaks out. -- Novel is in its center, and soeone-- A green-scaled being with quite fetching red and yellow diamond patterns hands him a can of Bud. - Apep is a god of chaos, so even this unlikely outcome has likely pleased him. And Sam has done likewise. The tablets shine, the ritual is complete and as Sam catches his breath, Apon Ra-Tep, the priest from earlier manifests from a shadow to grasp Sam by the forearm, raising it with a hissed roar of "Champion!" Though Apep has not manifested, Sam feels that his connection is deepening, if only the slightest hint. Apophis is deep within the void, after all, and returning a god is not so easy as a quick fix. It is enough however to have pleased Apon and the servants of the god of darkness and chaos. -- Some how... Novel and Sam were successful, and Apep is that step closer towards returning to plague the House of Ra with his insidious discombobulating evil.
Confusion ensues as Novel's insane plan finds a curious success story. Where he might have expected to be tossed back down, the two serpent men, much to the chagrin of their neighbours begin helping Novel to throw things down: And as any club owner knows, it only takes one or two before a full blown mosh pit decides to make itself known. So what's not a fixture finds itself summarily tossed down- Daggers, empty snack packets, drink cartons- A nacho hat. Someone's entirely out-dated Y-fronts, a shendyte, and then an entire avalanch of detritus, and all around Novel the cheers and roaring of a croud having a great time continues. And the abomination has no idea what to do. It cant scale walls. So it does the only thing it can: It finds a new target, Sam, and it begins to drunkenly weave its way through everything tossed towards it- Then a chair hits it. -- Half-blind and unable to regenerate, those potshots begin to slow it, and its blood sloshes around like a teenaged girl's nethers when introduced, for the first time, to Edward Cullin. And that's when the ritual takes hold. The Abomination makes it to the center of the circle-- Directly in the center of that triangle of dark magic, and it suddenly just... Stops. It flops, heads spread out like limp noodles: The responce to the boy friends of those girls introduced to Twilight. Full circle. As the Abomination, now rendered terminally disfunctional loses what kept it from the duat. It dies, and up above, a full blown riot breaks out. -- Novel is in its center, and soeone-- A green-scaled being with quite fetching red and yellow diamond patterns hands him a can of Bud. - Apep is a god of chaos, so even this unlikely outcome has likely pleased him. And Sam has done likewise. The tablets shine, the ritual is complete and as Sam catches his breath, Apon Ra-Tep, the priest from earlier manifests from a shadow to grasp Sam by the forearm, raising it with a hissed roar elp plotof "Champion!" Though Apep has not manifested, Sam feels that his connection is deepening, if only the slightest hint. Apophis is deep within the void, after all, and returning a god is not so easy as a quick fix. It is enough however to have pleased Apon and the servants of the god of darkness and chaos. -- Some how... Novel and Sam were successful, and Apep is that step closer towards returning to plague the House of Ra with his insidious discombobulating evil.
Confusion ensues as Novel's insane plan finds a curious success story. Where he might have expected to be tossed back down, the two serpent men, much to the chagrin of their neighbours begin helping Novel to throw things down: And as any club owner knows, it only takes one or two before a full blown mosh pit decides to make itself known. So what's not a fixture finds itself summarily tossed down- Daggers, empty snack packets, drink cartons- A nacho hat. Someone's entirely out-dated Y-fronts, a shendyte, and then an entire avalanch of detritus, and all around Novel the cheers and roaring of a croud having a great time continues. And the abomination has no idea what to do. It cant scale walls. So it does the only thing it can: It finds a new target, Sam, and it begins to drunkenly weave its way through everything tossed towards it- Then a chair hits it. -- Half-blind and unable to regenerate, those potshots begin to slow it, and itsquit blood sloshes around like a teenaged girl's nethers when introduced, for the first time, to Edward Cullin. And that's when the ritual takes hold. The Abomination makes it to the center of the circle-- Directly in the center of that triangle of dark magic, and it suddenly just... Stops. It flops, heads spread out like limp noodles: The responce to the boy friends of those girls introduced to Twilight. Full circle. As the Abomination, now rendered terminally disfunctional loses what kept it from the duat. It dies, and up above, a full blown riot breaks out. -- Novel is in its center, and soeone-- A green-scaled being with quite fetching red and yellow diamond patterns hands him a can of Bud. - Apep is a god of chaos, so even this unlikely outcome has likely pleased him. And Sam has done likewise. The tablets shine, the ritual is complete and as Sam catches his breath, Apon Ra-Tep, the priest from earlier manifests from a shadow to grasp Sam by the forearm, raising it with a hissed roar ell novel I need to quickly reset. My comp is having a fit.
The SR apologizes about that, a cat jumped on the computer.
Novel raises up a great cheer, adding, "GO SAM!" As his intention to jump down ONTO the creature from the back is aborted as it gets sacrificed, eaten, slapping a HIGH FIVE against the being the hands him the bud, cracking it open in his hand and knocking it back. Glug, glug, glug. Ahhh. Cheap beer. He chucks it aside - then promptly launches himself into the brawl. He's not there to kill anyone but.
He was never one to turn down a good fight as he engages in some energetic violence. Though when the priest starts calling for attention, the man disengages, hopping right back down - sliding down the sandstone wall, stumbling into the arena, grinning from ear-to-ear as he's covered in 'kisses' from bites and slashes and cuts, oozing blood and dribbling it all over the trench as he staggers his way back in, having left violence and delight in his wake.
"Today's been a good fucking day."
A low hiss escapes Sam's lips, and he raises both hands, grinning up at Novel. "BOO-YAAAH!"
He grins wide to Novel, and nods his head firmly. "Fuck yeah it has been!"
Amid all of this, Sam's suit is still, utterly impeccable. Sure, gore litters his face, his hands, and his hair, but his suit? As pristine as ever.
He looks at the stands above, and raises a fist up, the ourbouros on his cuff-links shining in the arena's dull light. "Complete! And! Utter! Victory!" He nods firmly, hopefully getting some silence. "Nothing less." His eyes shine with a black sheen, even though his entire form is shaking. Arcanism takes it's toll, after all.
If nothing else, Sam and Novel have most certainly created something gloriously insane. In fact, if the Vengeance of Ubaste were to try to identify what the fuck happened here, what they might find is utter ruination. It's not long before the entire colosseum resembles a frathouse party, and in retrospect, alcohol, bloodletting, a chaos god and two bar owners could only have gone one way; This one. And so of course, the success? Story is quite simply that, with Novel and Sam succeeding in their endeavours. Though Apep doesn't directly manifest, it is likely that in a few thousand years (After the near thirteen it takes for /this/ world to end), Apep will grow close enough to take a direct hand in mortal affairs. There is something tangible though. It's unseen, more a feeling than a visible, influencable aspect. It's in its infancy, though if cultivated, the seed of power that may become an eidolon has formed, dark, sinister and malevolent.