Indefinite Turmoil (Random)

[P.]

As the sun mounted the slate clouds that sat in the eastern sky, life stirred in the world below. Waves of buildings swept along the ground, mostly unfinished. It was a haphazard city of girders and chains, with constructions that had halted in their prime. Quiet permeated all, as if the world was keeping its breath within its chest in fright of what it would taste upon inhalation. A dark figure made its way about the metal in aerobatic motions, jumping from pole to roof to shell. He was in search of battle, as he was a beast of such machinations. The hair of it trailed in its head’s wake like grey breeze. It was not grey, however, but black and white, mottled together; the speed at which the warrior traveled blurred the shades together into a slur. His pattern of black and white, repeated all over his visage, fitted into the city as if he was a regular occurrence, and he was.

The rest of the city sat in uncomfortable slumber. Magic was at play here, supporting various buildings, and making up most of some. Skeins of wire and metal coursed through the air to tie individual parts of the city together.

Timaeus came to a halt at the apex of a monstrous building. The behemoth of concrete and metal ruptured forth from the ground and soared into the sky, its shadow draped over the ground behind like a lordly cape. The air about him seemed to crawl through the folds of his robes to sit at the spire with him, hugging around his body. The world was lain out before him as a thorny carpet of steel, the sun’s light dancing off its surface.

Timaeus cast his eyes to the horizon, which was grey in the east. It seemed to him as if hell had spewed forth the sun as a massive sphere of fury, and noxious clouds of smoke had been released with it.

“Hmm. Little time I am given in the face of darkness.” Timaeus spoke broodingly, his eyes closed as if he were searching himself, trying to find some kind of stain within. He took a shallow breath, but released it in a long sigh.

He pushed off from the spire and hurtled downwards. The wind past his face felt like fingers clawing at his face, mouths biting his flesh. The time he fell for seemed undefined, but it was long.

Hours, perhaps days, later, Timaeus collided with the limb of a tree, the first in a series that built a dense forest across the city’s floor. The savage speed of the fall was nothing compared to the capturing abilities of the leafy carpet the sat across the ground. Timaeus landed into this covering as if he had just lain down on his bed. The leaves that followed him, spinning down to join those that had performed the act long ago seemed like the essence of autumn raining down in fiery acid.

Timaeus stood. His fingers flexed themselves. His eyes were lustful, longing for blood at his hand. He wanted to kill, to maim, to destroy. He felt this often; war was integrated into his psyche and battle was built into his blood. He turned to face one of the buildings at the road’s edge. The door gave way easily, crumbling beneath darkness. The Searcher strode in, and Searched.

He found a sleeping woman, maybe in her thirties. Her skin was pale, and her was like the autumn: fiery and blazing. She held her blankets up under her chin, and her breath was shallow. As Timaeus approached, her breath seemed more force, as if she was fighting Timaeus for breath. When he drew a finger across her skin, she trembled and quickened her breath once more. He could feel the tug of her blood, and it pulled him close to her. He brought his tongue across her face, and tasted her unconscious fear, her unknowing screams.

When his hand felt its way to her neck, Timaeus basked in the horror he inflicted upon her through nightmares. His fingers curled around her spine, and she woke.

“Good morning, my darling…” And before she could respond, Timaeus’ hand was alight with ethereal flames that tortured her face. The stench of her flesh smoldering filled his nose and pumped his magic, like a wind pump to a bellows. He took her outside by the neck, his sheer will sustaining her life.

The next few minutes were a-blur with crimson, like blood dancing through Timaeus’ mind. The death for him was orgasmic, and he reveled in the pain brought upon the citizen by his demonic hand.

When the episode had passed, he looked about. The major difference was that those leaves that had not been taken by autumn were now stained red, afire with his violence. The wall of the building she had been slumbering in was bloodied, but not painted completely. These visions did not appall Timaeus, but made him even more blood-thirsty.

The Demon took to the skies in search of more fear, as well as a battle.

[MrRandom]

New magic and old technology. It was a fascinating combination of outdated building methods combined with the latest in supportive enchantments to hold the rustic structures together. Of course, Falenor wasn't particularly aware of the magical nature holding the buildings together...all he could deduce was that some other force was allowing the structures to resist the unrelenting pull of gravity.

Perhaps even more amazing was the presence of nature amongst this curious metropolis. How this whole cityscape was even possible Falenor couldn't say...but that was the main reason he was here after all: to find out. For now, however, he took a break from the analyzing and the testing to simply walk amongst the forest, taking in his surroundings and relaxing his mind. At least, that was his plan before an overwhelming sense of pain assaulted his mind.

Shocked, Falenor closed his eyes and concentrated for a second, pinpointing the exact location of the suffering. Then, accelerating himself with kinetic force, he shot towards the source at high speed. But fast as he was, he only arrived in time to see some manner of creature bringing sadistic death to what seemed to be a simple citizen. Knowing it was far too late for her, he stood behind a nearby tree and waited for it to be over.

Once the creature, whatever it was, had finished it's cruel fun, it took flight. Falenor strode, shaking slightly, into the house of the demon's victim. Briefly glancing around, he saw family pictures hung up on the wall; pictures of smiling children now left motherless, and of their grandparents who had just lost a daughter. Falenor recalled the loneliness of his own childhood, and his eyes blazed red with anger at the thing that had inflicted such pain on not just one person, but countless others who would weep at her passing.

Almost blinded by his rage, he charged out of the house to see the abomination flying off into the distance. He uprooted a tree, bombarded it with heat until it caught fire, then launched it with as much speed as he could muster at the demon, aiming it precisely so long as it didn't deviate from it's path. Shooting into the air with a heat haze surrounding him, he followed the tree's trajectory with a cry on his lips and his staff in his hand, ready to deliver justice to the despicable being that had performed such terrible acts.

[P.]

Timaeus wiped the blood from his hands in the air, worshipping his ability to kill ruthlessly and passionately. Seconds later, the air in his lungs escaped as the full force of a tree at full speed smashing into his person. He was sent reeling through the sky and landed on the roof of one of the multitudinous buildings. He look to see his attacker, arming himself.

He saw the being approaching him, and could instantly sense scientific energies at work about the man. Timaeus fired darkness at his new foe, who easily dodged the magic. Then, the man was on the roof with the Searcher. The Demon and human fought for some time, staff to shield, and occasionally magic against the strange powers the man possessed. Every time the fighter made contact with Timaeus, the Angel felt a strange twitch somewhere in his body. One such pang knocked Timaeus off balance, and a quick blow of the human’s staff to the mage’s chin sent him off the side of the building.

Timaeus mustered his magic as he fell. After ten or so seconds, he released a nova of black fire that toppled the building that he guessed served as a platform for the energy-wielder.

Unfurling his wings, he beat furiously against gravity until he sustained himself in the air and then went up in search of his foe. He saw the figure in the sky, mustering what appeared to be masses of electricity.

Seconds later, Timaeus’ body was smote by a charge of lightning that displaced his mind, like a spear of white energy. When the strike passed, his body was trembling slightly, the electricity jolting his nerves. In retaliation, the mage attacked with more black fire. His blast was riven in two by another attack from the human, which Timaeus narrowly dodged.

The air was whelmed with incarnadine and white energies as the two fought at range, and Timaeus found anger mounting in his chest, splitting open like an over-ripe fruit. He appeared next to his attacker, swinging Jeika through the air. The blade bounced off the simple cloth that the human wore with a ping. Befuddled for an instant, Timaeus took a blow to the cheek, dealt by the human’s staff, and then was smothered in heat and lightning.

When Timaeus’ anger threw him into rage, he responded to the mortal with a torrent of pure darkness that cascaded through the nearby area, collapsing buildings and consuming trees.

Confident that he had finished the human off, Timaeus assumed his hunt for fear. His rite was desecrated as a blast of molesting force smashed through his body, filling him with pain that was almost leprous. He collided with a falling girder, and the air was sent running from his chest into the air. Timaeus stabilized himself.

Where is he..? the angel questioned himself, probing the area for some form of energy. The human seemed to leave to magical imprint, as if he had been translated into illusion, left to befuddle and confuse. The he saw above him, perched on a rapidly falling pipe, the person he had been fighting.

Timaeus rushed upward, but his speed mastered him and flung him past the stranger. The air below him transformed from a green line lain between obelisks into an abysm of metal and wild magic. The Searcher followed.

Timaeus danced across momentary platforms to fight the odd warrior. As he leapt across the chasm, he caught a glance of the blue dart to his left and blasted at it with fire. He just missed, shattering a myriad of magics and alloys. Then he saw the fight above, and jumped, fury-made sword in hand. He stabbed and slashed, but his attempts were in vain; his opponent appeared impervious to heat. In knowledge of this, Timaeus wielded nothing but shadow, shield, fear and pain.

The chaotic realm of magic that seemed perpetually suspended in time amplified the attacks the two used, and what would not hurt a fly rent colossi in twain.

The Demon swung his gnarled hand at the human and scraped its cheek. An all-too-responsive hand whipped out from the blue jacket and ensnared Timaeus’ hand in a death-grip. Countering, the Searcher swung Jeika into the chin of the human, who instantly let go of the tattoo-wound arm. While his opponent was off balance, Timaeus prepared for attack.

The human toppled downward in the onslaught of darkness, which rippled from Timaeus’ hand. The Angel fell down to deliver the final blow. A moment before the shield’s blade would have severed the foe’s head, a moment that would stay strung in Timaeus’ mind forever, the air charged feverishly. The blow was super-conducted through Jeika’s edge. An orb of lightning encased the foes, charging the human and torturing the Angel, before the latter, now limp, was launched along the ion beam like a bullet aimed at the smothered light of the rising sun.

[MrRandom]

Anger. Pure, unadultered anger. Such an experience Falenor had not been through for quite some time, and quite frankly it felt almost good to channel so much raw power straight at the object of his aggression. By way of following up the attack, he shot along the beam's path until he caught up with the sadistic butcher, preparing to knock him out of the sky with one mighty blow. But as he swung the staff down to slam his opponent into the earth, the demon vaished.

Had he been in a more stable frame of mind, Falenor would most likely have stayed calm and merely tried to sense the presence of his opponent. Unfortunately for him, his rage led him imstead to zip around the area, staff in hand, yelling furious challenges to his enemy. Which, of course, left him completely open to a blow from behind, which not surprisingly is what Timaeus did. The back of his cloak blocked the worst of it, but the sheer force of the blow sent him spiralling towards the ground.

He launched himself back up into the air and struck again, only to find that his opponent had disappeared once again. Finally, some part of his mind told him that he needed to lose the rage or lose the battle, advice which Falenor decided to heed. Closing his eyes, he lost himself in his suroundings and waited for the inevitable attack. Sure enough, he soon sensed the presence of the demon flying at him from behind. Just as Timaeus was about to strike, he shot to the left and blasted the area where he had been with pent-up electric charge.

The demon had vanished again. Preparing for another strike, Falenor was not expecting a burst of flames to rise up from beneath him. Smirking, he went to nullify the attack, but was surprised to notice that while the fire was gone, some part of the attack was still flying at him. He barely had time for a "what?" before the blast slammed into his cloak, sending him flying higher into the sky.

Before he even had a chance to stabilize himself, Timaeus had appeared above him and knocked him back down again. Anticipating the demon's next move, Falenor began building charge around the area below him, releasing it just as his opponent reappeared there. The attack forced Timaeus to dodge clumsily and left Falenor a nice opening to deliver a crushing blow to the creature.

Or at least it would have if Falenor wasn't still hurtling towards the ground at high speed. He slammed into the demon before it had a chance to get out of the way, grabbing it around the arms to prevent it from breaking free of the drop. But just as they were about to hit the ground, Timaeus twisted around slightly to make Falenor cushion his fall. He tried desperately to flip the pair around again, but before he had the chance they'd slammed straight into the earth.

[P.]

Despite the human’s cushioning capabilities, combined with that of the autumn’s flooring, Timaeus felt the force of the landing reverberating throughout his frame. He imagined the pain that the human had experienced, taking the full force of the ground.

He watched his foe moan in pain. The cries Timaeus enjoyed, but the suffering he could sense was not enough. Mustering his shield, he Demon slammed its blunt surface into Falenor’s stomach. The human moaned again and rolled onto his side, clutching his gut.

“You know I’ll keep going, don’t you?” Timaeus mocked the young man.

Falenor seemed to struggle to answer, but the words were discernible through his clenched teeth. “Yes, I know.”

The Demon howled. The laughter gushed from his mouth, like a stream of his madness. Mastering himself, Timaeus slammed his foot down, aiming for Falenor’s chest. Pangs of pain roiled up his leg. The human had rolled away and now stood at Timaeus’ side.

The harm wrought unto Timaeus was great; only once had he witnessed such might, but this time, its direction was at him. It was as if his foe had unleashed his full force, and it had then been amplified by the city that loomed around him. The attack was electricity, kinetic energy, and heat like the furnaces of hell. The beam was focused, and Timaeus found his person used as a battering ram through the side of several buildings.

His eyes refocused when he was at his flight’s apex; he saw a vision of blocks destroyed by the attack; one hole, the Demon’s path, through several buildings, which were now entirely rent apart by the force of such devastation. His body ached and twitched, which he recognized as the aftermath of the electrical attacks. He quickly staunched the fire that engulfed his robes. A myriad of holes were left in his garb, like crosshairs, attracting attention to his weaknesses.

Timaeus soon found that he was falling from the sky. He managed to avoid another painful collision with the forest floor, and went to find his opponent. The city flew past his vision in a blur of grey and incarnadine. Black holes darted past, the horizontal abysms of streets on all sides. Then, passing one street, he saw the blue cloak, like an electric discharge in his mind.

Timaeus landed and approached on foot, darkness congregating in his fingers. Shadows leaped from his fingers, pouring forth like black blood. He swung Jeika in blood lust and missed. Falenor had stepped to one side, and smacked the Demon’s skull. The pain leapt across his scalp like a web, sticking and encasing the Searcher’s mind. In an instant, the human had punched Timaeus in the chest as he fell. The autumn whelmed him, swarming over his body.

It was if Timaeus he had altogether been abstracted from what he knew to be physical, disappeared into some kind of ether. The ground beneath the leaves seemed to have vanished, allowing him to leap across dimensions. Around him, darkness loomed. He could not tell if it loomed; unlike his magic, it was not anything, just pure void. It expanded inwardly on Timaeus until it was in him. He could taste, smell, hear it, and he could taste, smell, hear nothing. He could feel nothing; the folds of his garment seemed evenly unfamiliar to him as the shadow that encased the actuality about him.

“Human!” he shouted, but he did not hear it. The concept of his speech evaded his mind. He thought, at least that he shouted. “Hello?! Where are you?” He ran forward, swinging wide his arms as if to question extravagantly spectators about him. He looked up, and he could almost sense the world above him, or at least, the portal to it. He tried to fly, but he found that his wings had been spoken from his form, commanded away from him by the deathly observers that he thought he might see. “I know you watch. I know you are hear,” he spat. “Reveal yourself! Reveal unto me sight of you!” Timaeus dived down, scraping his fingers along the ground, although he could not feel it, just that his fingers could claw no further.

That second, he felt uncontrollable perturbation streak through his mind. Uncontrollable tremulousness shattered his thoughts, as if the fear he had wrought on others had finally been redirected unto him.