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Generic Perfection

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  1. Trilith @SaintQueen • 5 minutes ago I’ve seen the future, there isn’t a robot in sight. Don’t waste your vote, vote for Obelus! #StandWithOBELUS REPLY GRUMBLE LIKE SHARE
  2. ((Rolled a D100 for chaos effect: 48) 41-50: Bubbles of iridescent madness appear and induce temporary hallucinations in any person they touch) By the time that Shanna has given up on explaining the intricacies of her current predicament, Trilith has moved from the remains of the bookcase to sit down on a glass top table. Running her gloved hand through the dust reveals the beneath the glass and wood casings are the tattered remains of old manuscripts and tomes. These were probably someone’s prized possessions, something they took pride in, something worth preserving, something utterly worthless like poetry… probably. “I don’t follow.” She finally responds, her hand lifting up as she rubs her thumb and forefinger together causing the dust to roll off of either side of her fingers as elongated pills. “There are hundreds… hmm no. Probably hundreds of millions of books. It seems to me that even if there is a minor setback, like making a pool of lava, that the sheer amount of time saved would be well worth it.” Although the scope of magic Shanna describes didn’t exist within Trilith’s lifetime, the woman doesn’t seem bothered by the absurdity of it in the least. In fact, it is the very fact that such powerful magic exists, that brings her a level of comfort and reassures her that things aren’t too late. “As for helping me, that’s very kind of you.” There is a pause that acts as an unspoken however. “I’m not sure what to do.” There it is, the fact that she’s been avoiding since she arrived. “I originally thought I might raise an army, storm some cities, and execute the evil. Things aren’t that simple. For one, it is impossible to incite people into action about a threat that hasn’t manifested yet.” There is another pause as she reflects on her own failures. “So, I guess I’m an aimless wanderer trying to figure out what I can do. Part of me is just hoping to stumble upon the source. Perhaps, another part of me is hoping to find the tools and people necessary to act when the threat finally reveals itself. I can only hope that by the time they do, it isn’t too late.” Certainly, there is something to be said about the supposed inevitability of the future, in fact Trilith almost felt like there was nothing she could do to change things at this point. However, if she had to pick between sitting idly by and slamming her head into a wall with the hopes that she’ll achieve something, she is the type to bludgeon herself to death. As she hops up from the table, she catches a pale pink glow from the corner of her eye. Turning her head to see what it is, she finds an orb of light floating up from the ground, popping a few feet below the ceiling. “That’s weird, your doing?” She turns to look back at Shanna. When her gaze settles on where Shanna should be, she finds a wall of pink bubbles between them, steadily bubbling up from the ground. All at once they pop, bathing her in a wall of light.
  3. Trilith stands frozen as Shanna reprimands her, her face blank. Although her eyes are clearly focused on the other woman’s face, she doesn’t seem to be paying attention to the scolding itself. A second after the lecture ends, Trilith replies. “You’re very expressive.” The comment is neither a compliment or an insult. Rather it is a statement of a curious fact, something she finds odd in a fascinating sort of way. “Anyway, I agree that these books have value. The older ones make great kindling. They burn exceptionally well and very easy to light.” Walking over to the bookcase that Shanna struggles with, the redhead drops to a kneel. “Do you intend to look through all of these books to find one that has a gold thread in it?” Finding nothing of interest in the ground beneath it, she rises enough to sit on her haunches and then shoves her fist through the back of the bookcase. Her hand breaks through the decrepit wood easily enough. Fishing around for a second she feels nothing but the floor below. It’s only once she tries to withdraw her hand that she realizes it is stuck. “Aren’t you a mage. Can’t you use some type of locator spell? You have three of the books, I’d assume they are connected in some way. Why can’t you exploit that natural synergy to use them to find the others?” Although any spell work of that nature is well above Trilith’s capabilities, it seems more than reasonable to her. Didn’t witches and mages use spells to find stuff all the time? Remaining in place, she continues to struggle to retrieve her hand from the dilapidated piece of furniture, her frustration becoming increasingly palpable with every passing moment. “I’m here to kill evil. Regardless of if I fail or succeed, my people and my time are already dead. There are some things that you simply can’t come back from.” After several more seconds of struggling, she finally rips her hand from the case, sending splinters flying every which way in the process. “Fate, prophecy, destiny these are meaningless words. There is certainly an element of casualty. But nothing is meant to be. Just because there is a natural inevitability for how things will play out in the future, due to what has happened in the past, doesn’t mean that it was always meant to happen or must happen.” Her gaze, filled with scorn, remains fixed on the bookcase as she stands up and kicks it several times, causing the boards holding it together to crack and crumble. A few more kicks later and the entire structure falls apart. Toeing the debris to the side, she finds a handful of scrolls and tattered books, none that seem particularly interesting to her.
  4. Shanna’s embrace is lost on the redhead, whatever symbolism the gesture is suppose to impart or emotion it is suppose to convey, is never transcribed into a meaningful understanding. Rather, all Trilith understands is that she’s being constrained, in a halfhearted sort of way. At least what she considers to be halfhearted. If the chaos mage wanted to suplex her, she definitely isn’t holding on tight enough. Although she doesn’t particularly care to be detained in any form, the fact that is none threatening, and Shanna’s words seem to be inherently positive, Trilith finds herself just kind of letting it happen. However, before any inquiry can be made, to ascertain what the other’s intentions are, Shanna takes off, dragging Trilith with her. Whatever distress dotted her features is replaced with confusion, as they bolt into a library. Clearly this is a flighty creature of impulse, swayed by its emotions. And while Trilith had a moment where emotions she’d never felt before overwhelmed her, she’s already buried them and regained her composure. “I’m not sure what you’re helping me with, but thank you, I think.” She finally replies, while reclaiming ownership of her hand. Walking past Shanna, toward a bookcase, she trailers her fingertips along the edge, causing a mound of dust to form. “I like bitter teas, with hints of citric. I’m not familiar with names, just flavors.” She finally responds, working backward through the questions and statements that had bombarded her moments before. “And yes. I am from the future. A future where everything burns, and most living things are little more than facsimiles.” Pulling a book from the shelf and opening it, her gaze drifts over the text. It is a meaningless jumble of foreign symbols. This is unfortunately indicative of her entire experience in Terrenus. Apparently the gap in time between now and later is large enough to allow for a radical change in character design and language. Although, she general understands most Terric, when spoken, written Terric is indecipherable. “I never thought I’d be illiterate.” The comments made as she tosses the book onto the floor. “The thing you are looking for, what does it look like?” She asks, while glancing over her shoulder to look at Shanna.
  5. The woman’s head tilts every so slightly to the side as she passes beneath a length of webbing. Although spiders and their webs don’t bother her, she lacks any desire to fish them from her hair. Her face twists with befuddlement as she listens to Shanna ramble on. She is fairly certain that she mentioned she is the saint queen, when she introduced herself to the other. Clearly there is something to be said for her attention span, or lack thereof. “I need an army to purge a great evil from the land. In my time, there is no Terrenus and most people have been subjugated by the most vile of creatures. Although we waged a good war against them, it was too little too late. Truth be told, our war made much of the planet inhospitable. I scarcely recognize any of the towns or lands, they’re much nicer right now… a lot less fire and ash, a lot more green.” Trilith ceases her own ramblings as the mage’s exclamation of danger, the 'uhoh' causing her heart rate to suddenly spike as her right hand reaches for the hilt of her sword. The sudden change in temperature, that Shanna seems to be sensitive to, is completely lost on Trilith. The truth is, everything feels cold to her. Even the warmest days in the wasteland are frigid compared to the inhospitable hellscape she was born into. Shanna’s profession is met with silence, not because Trilith finds it particularly appealing or interesting. Rather, the enchantment brings forth a geyser of emptiness and the darkest of realizations. Somehow, it had been lost on her all of her life. In fact, it is at this very moment that the redhead comes to understand that she has nothing. Her entire life has been dedicated to war. Her entire existence a conduit of Terra’s wrath. Every thought, every choice, every struggle, all of it had been with the singular goal in life to eradicate the greatest of evil… for no reason other than she was told that she had to. “I….” The enchantment rolls deep within her subconscious mind, pulling at memories. “I like tea.” She finally murmurs. Although it is something long forgotten, Trilith remembers the slightest of pleasantries. Within her smoldering world she had found a small patch of green nourished by an enchanted waterfall that had been subjugated by the lich, Dove. The woman had been pleasant, and although Trilith hadn’t fully trusted her, the tea and conversation were a reprieve from the constant fighting. With the realization, Trilith comes to a stop, her hand clenched at her chest. Her visage is contorted with a pain that she has never felt before, is incapable of explaining, nor understands. And while she now fully grasps that she is missing something in her life, what exactly that is, is completely beyond her. “I don’t like this game very much.”
  6. Donning the glove, Trilith’s gaze follows Shanna as she starts her adventure into the bleak hallway. Certainly ominous by its own right, it is hardly the hellscape that the Saint Queen calls home. Double checking to ensure that she has all of her belongings, the redhead follows after the chaos mage. “Winging it? I’m not sure how you expect to fly through such narrow corridors. Also, I’d be a terrible Queen if I let someone be eaten, so I’m coming with you. ” The statement is nonnegotiable, although there is little doubt in her mind that Shanna would object. “You know, since my arrival, you are the first person to inherently understand my intrinsic value. You wouldn’t believe how many good deeds I’ve had to perform and preaching I’ve had to do to win over the hearts of just a small minority of people. I’ll never raise an army in time to stop the end, at this rate.” Trilith finds Shanna easy to talk to, for no other reason than she appears innately kind, sweet even. If she had to put her finger on it, the women would wager that Shanna is a pure soul without an ounce of sin weighing her down. Innocence of that degree is a rarity. “Do people in your timeline regularly eat one another?” The question is posed as the venture further into the darkness and round a corner that leads to a set of stairs descending into a vast and impenetrable void.
  7. “I suppose I can forgive your transgression, Shanna, owner of the red tower.” The pardon is provided as Trilith walks toward her strewn assortment. Her mind wanders, well past the immediate situation, and to the more concerning question of, how long? While it is hard to believe that she was frozen in time, the evidence certainly supports it. The monster had attacked her in broad daylight, and now it is near twilight. Additionally, apples simply didn’t decompose that quickly nor dust accumulate so suddenly. She resigns herself to the fact that she has lost time, the question of course is how much? “Probably less than a lunar cycle, but maybe a few phases.” She muses, while kneeling down to clean off and repack her travel kit. “I certainly did not cast any time spells. So there is nothing for me to teach you. Perhaps the beast did, but I can’t imagine why it would trap itself.” Her musings continue as she hoists and newly packed backpack onto her back and then stands up. She turns back to Shanna and extends her nude hand, palm up, with the expectation that the woman will return her glove. “As for this angel thing. I’m unfamiliar with the word, but as you describe it, I might very well be. I do in fact smite evil on behalf of our Goddess.” There is a brief pause before curiosity starts nipping at her consciousness, the fog of the time warp finally raised. “What brings you and your puppy to this desolated land?”
  8. Before Trilith is afforded the opportunity to fully regain her bearings, she is assaulted. Her arm violently rises and falls as Shanna excessively strains the socket – threatening to dislocate it. “Um, excu – “She isn’t afforded the opportunity to finisher her sentence. "Ohmygosh, you ARE an angel, aren't you?!” Blink “A what?” The response is barely blurted out before another volley of verbal onslaught bombards her. “That was amazing, how did you get trapped in that time bubble thingy?” Blink, blink “A what?!” Her visage twists with concern as the pitch of her voice steadily rises. “You melted that things face! Wow - you're so amazing! And pretty! Goodness." “Yes…. Err… thank you?” The concern is quickly replaced with confusion. Trilith, bordering the limits of her patients, rips her hand from Shanna, leaving a limp and empty glove in the other woman’s grasp. “Stop talking please.” The request comes as she takes a step back and raises a finger to silence the witch. “I am Trilith, envoy of the Supreme Goddess Terra. The Saint Queen, lady of fire and ash. And you are?” Although the introduction and request for reciprocity are delivered while she surveys the room, they both carry a steady and practiced cadence, which when combined with her tone suggests that her statement should be obvious, self-evident even. “I have no idea what an angel is and…..” She pauses as she catches sight of her backpack and sleeping bag. “WHAT HAPPENED TO MY STUFF?” A slip, her cool momentarily lost, as she finds her possessions not only thrown about, but still covered in patches of dust.
  9. It isn’t seconds or even minutes after Shanna repositions the abomination that time returns to its normal flow. No, unfortunately for her it is nearly an hour. Nearly an hour of chilled silence and uneventful waiting. An hour that is so fruitlessly boring that might as well have been an eternity. The first instance of change comes from the down bound blade, one half of it starts to shimmer and the air around it begins to distort. For the longest of minutes it creeps downward, independent of the redhead, the light bending and warping around it causing magnified projections of objects, that should have been blocked by line of sight, to appear at its edges. The sight is accompanied by the sound of sizzling, like droplets of water skittering atop a smoldering pan. Then, all at once, there is a distinct sound of shattering, something in between a window breaking and icicle falling. The layer of frost that coats the ground is instantly vaporized into a cloud of steam that billows out washing away any remnants of chill, ice, and snow. Trilith lands knees first into the abdomen of the mutant, the tip of her blade pushing through its shoulder and into the ground, as its clawed hand shoots just a few inches past her face. Although she can’t explain why it missed, she doesn’t bother to let the advantageous opportunity escape her. Breaking her hand free of the sword, she wraps her fingers around the beast’s face, while supporting all of her body-weight with that single arm. “May Terra grant you peace.” The words are hastily spoken as the ring on her finger flickers and an explosion of fire erupts from her palm. The wall of flames pours out along the ground, readily eating away at the wood, before dissipating into the air, leaving nothing but scorch marks and the embers of the mutant’s skull. Pushing herself to a stand, while simultaneously pulling her sword from the shoulder of the corps, Trilith turns to settle her fiery gaze on the hellhound and its companion. There is a brief pause, one taken to assess the situation, before she finally sheaths her blade. “You are?” The inquiry is made as she finally looks toward Shanna.
  10. The moment that Shanna opens the door a blast of cold air whips out and coats the ground in frost. Flakes of snow and ice pour out, carried on the breeze, as icicles start to form along the threshold. As the wall of white dissipates the image of a fiery mane of hair slowly comes into view. Locks of vermilion hair a spread far and wide, frozen in midair. The owner is mid fall, sword drawn and pointed toward a grotesquely deformed humanoid, whose bladed digits are splayed and reaching out for her face. Around them ice, snow, and frost cover everything in a nearly perfect 12' sphere. Just on the event horizon, caught between the past and the present, is a table with an apple. On one side it looks fresh, chilled and coated in a thin layer of frost, but nonetheless fresh. The other half, however, is partially decomposed and supports a thriving habitat of insects and mold. Further yet, tucked into a corner, is a sleeping bag, a dark lantern, and a backpack, all of which have collected a sizable amount of dust.
  11. As Ashton moved to the side and up, Trilith rotated with him, keeping him in sight. While she can't swing her own sword around fast enough to block his blow, she is able to position her free arm in front of her, so that the bulk of the downward swing is absorbed by her forearm. The impact launches her to the ground, nonetheless. However, she is now able to witness the charging and firing of the preternatural beam. Bringing the Wyld Bane sword, so that its Suujali carapace laced edge bisects the beam, she rends the beam into and diffuses it to either side of her. An instance later, and she hits the ground. Or rather, the ground absorbs her. As her back comes in contact with the ground, the ground caves in, swallowing her whole. The leading edge directly behind her dips into a slope allowing her to roll backwards, up it. In one full rotation she clears the opening, in a second she rolls to her feet and stands up. As soon as she ceases moving the ground bounds back into place, snaps up, and explodes upward as a shotgun blast of dirt and pebbles, peppering the buildings -- and presumably Ashton-- with golf ball sized slabs of concrete and stone. A steady cloud of pulverized rock billows out filling the alleyway with a dark brown haze that wafts up well past the height of either building.
  12. Expectations are meant to be subverted. Whatever expectation Ashton had, that she would humor his sword strike with a defensive maneuver, were about to be shattered. Rather than trying to intercept his attack, Trilith leverages the largest advantage that she has in the moment – her reach. Thrusting her arm -- and by extension her sword – forward, brings the tip of her sword piercing through the air, past his perpendicular blade, past his arm, and straight into his neck. The sword would effortless rend his flesh and spinal cord, their colliding bodies would end his ascent, and gravity would bring them both crashing to the ground. Trilith naturally has every intention of riding his freshly dead corpse to the ground.
  13. The two spears strike the rooftop --where Ashton had been moments before-- with Trilith landing seconds afterward. With knees tucked into her chest, she hits one end of the rooftop and starts to roll toward the other end . The flat top deforms on impact, bulging inward as the force of her descent dissipates throughout the entirety of the structure, sending ripples through the earthen construction materials. Fluidly transitioning from a roll to a stand, she darts toward the other edge while passing between the two embedded spears. The spears, in response, rip from the roof and follow in pursuit of her. Before she reaches the edge she jumps into the air, clears the ledge, and then throws her body into a dive. As soon as she acquires Ashton again the two spears shoot from behind her to intercept him. In the same moment she brandishes her own blade and brings its tip to align with the man’s throat.
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