Chevaleresse

Hiroki gazed up at Watcher, or what remained of him, as he faded. She was sure she would have had questions for him, and would ponder what they might have been later, but for now, she simply flopped onto her back, gazing up at the roof. The roof of. . . her plane. Was this her plane, now? Her eyes slowly slid to Cardinal. The False God of Nil, who had seemingly sacrificed herself to give Hiroki a fighting chance after the girl had been sent to crush her by both the gods and the man she'd just struck down in her defense, still alive to do the striking. Ultimately, the one Hiroki owed all this to, in a strange and indirect fashion. Hiroki's body ached and she still had so much to do. Cardinal, the rest of the gods, Watcher's cryptic warning, and the place she currently laid, all of it needed to be dealt with. But for now. . . She'd accomplished what nobody else could. Finally, she had silenced that voice within. She almost chuckled; this was beyond even her impressive ability to doubt herself. No matter what else came after, she'd done it. Others had helped, pointed her in the right direction, but she'd reached this point through her own devices, her own tactics, instincts, and sheer will to continue fighting. For the first time in a very long time, Hiroki took a calm breath.

Hiroki dropped to the ground, disoriented and starting to tire, mentally and physically. She kept forcing herself to only focus on Watcher, what she needed to deal with right now, not processing the mindblowing whirlwind of events happening around her. She was a god now, or at least that's what it seemed like, and she didn't know what exactly that meant for her other than that she was continuing her fight. She dropped to the ground and braced instinctively as it rushed up to meet her, feeling both the heat of battle and the icy claw of fear clutched about the sudden yawning emptiness that had appeared within her as Watcher threatened to take her power yet again. Once again, she applied what she had learned in the arena: always be prepared to adapt to your opponent, but don't stop using a tactic that's still working. Watcher was a fully grown adult and Hiroki was a slight teenager who looked even younger than she was, but that didn't stop her rushing towards Watcher again as she hit the ground, stumbling slightly but coming back up into a swing aimed at the man's gut. All the while, she reached out and searched within, looking for newfound power and trying to seize back the old. Watcher may have been able to manipulate her energy, but it was her energy. She forced herself to try to grasp her power through the void Watcher had created within, simultaneously as she fumbled about looking for any newfound wells of strength; it would have been totally beyond Hiroki's ability to focus at all if her mech wasn't already such an intrinsic part of her, with trying to call it being an act that was nearly instinctual.

Hiroki would have blinked if she had the physical capacity to do so. She'd expected... something. A flash of pain, getting thrown down by Watcher before he finished her off, maybe even a brief feeling of success after her attack actually connected. This, though? Death was one thing, but eternal nothing. . . Perhaps this was what Cardinal had been doomed to, why she was trying so hard to do whatever it was she needed to claw her way back into reality. Death, then, would have been a positive outcome. The slowly welling feeling of panic drained away as she heard the voice in her head. Becoming a god? It was odd. Her ostensible goal in joining the tournament was this, but she'd never meant it with her heart. The tournament simply meant a way to fight, to assert her existence, to force someone to acknowledge her. A way to prove to herself that there was a point to her life, something she did other than existing as a vaguely pretty face. She didn't know what she would do. Hiroki hadn't thought about it; if she was honest, she had been avoiding it. She didn't think she would do a very good job, all things considered, given that her main model for such a thing was Blink, and what everyone thought of her. But, her fight wasn't selfish any more. She'd taken on responsibility for the fate of Tempest as a whole already; it would be a crime to desert that now. Yes. I have to be.

So this was what Watcher's rage looked like. She'd done what he said, seemingly trusted and even looked up to him, and he didn't even hesitate to fry her once she stood in his way. He had been the real threat all along, hadn't he? The False God hadn't seemed to be much more than scared and desperate; it was hard to hold even the attempt on her life just a few moments ago against her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Hiroki dully noted that Cardinal had in fact been defeated because of her actions. That victory didn't taste particularly good, though. Hiroki was going to die here, with nobody to witness her passing save the one responsible. But, at the very least, she would die fighting something the gods themselves didn't dare to oppose, and there was at least someone that would remember her. She stood up, and charged. The remaining thrusters on her mech lifted her just over the edge of the hole Watcher had left behind. Her armor glowed with barely contained energy as what little reserves the mech had left activated, reinforcing her armor so she could close for one last attack. I have to. After everything, I won't do it, I won't give up. Not now. Plasma wreathed the Hellfire Knight as it made one last advance, dropping through the floor and careening towards Watcher; it vented from the myriad gaps and cracks left in her armor, spewed around Hiroki's now-bare left arm. Much as Cardinal had just done, Hiroki put her entire soul into the attack to the best of her ability, swinging her fist towards Watcher. That belied the true purpose of the attack; as soon as she hit, the mech exploded outwards, creating a final, brilliant star of defiance against Watcher and his machinations.

Joy. She'd seen her fair share of viscera, but that didn't exactly make what happened to Jack a pleasant sight. Seeing the other man take a hit, she decided to give him a patch, so that he could continue doing the same for the unfortunate mercenary. Field Patch on Harold for 8 HP.

Soul attempts to scoop up the still as they run back to the elevator, leaving it behind if they can't manage to get it there in a reasonable amount of time. Then get ready to smack the Scantgobbler in the elevator if necessary.

Pull Whisperling's Dude away from the edge of the platform, then try to chop the Scantgobbler's legs.

Soul watches and waits for the perfect opportunity. When the Scantgobbler attacks, Soul will do so as well, waiting for it to be at its most vulnerable point before striking home with their Salvaged Lightning Sword and Tooth and Nail Style.

Remilia gave Masako a flat look, seemingly meaning something along the lines of "Listen here you little shit." Rather than explaining just how much useless crap Masako was going to have fall on her head, Remilia elected to take the high road and ignore the tengu for a moment to answer the other questions posed to her. "There's a road down to the human village that forks not far from here. Sakuya can show you if you absolutely cannot find it. And yes, before the barrier. The gap. . . youkai. . . set it up centuries ago. It allows youkai to contiinue to flourish even when the rest of the world has become. . . less friendly. The Hakurei Shrine is important for maintaining it, and usually for dealing with these sorts of things. You'll probably meet her in your investigation, probably at the end of a trail of bruised youkai." The vampire seemed to be remembering an incident for a moment, gazing off into nothing for the briefest second before snapping back and glancing at Empi again, this time with equal parts annoyance and confusion. Being a monster that used to run around the woods and eat people, she took a little offense at being called creepy. She might've been more insulted if she wasn''t too busy trying to figure out what Detroit and the Blair Witch Project were. The only witch she knew was the one that kept breaking into the library. ". . . Anyway. I think your visit is about over for the moment. Meiling?" There was a brief delay followed by a muffled thump. A bleary and pained-looking Meiling stood up from where she'd been leaning against the wall, while Sakuya looked as impassive as always. "Uhh, sure. I mean, yes, Remilia." She waved at the group as she rubbed at her forehead, which upon closer inspection bore a single, small pinprick that wasn't there before. Patchouli suppressed a giggle before waving farewell to the group, remaining in the room with Remilia and watching Walmond as Meiling ushered them out and into the halls. Sakuya had already disappeared, presumably to clean up the mess left earlier - if she was, in fact, a maid. It wasn't really clear. The trip back through was uneventful save for the occasional maid fairy not knowing the fine art of not being tripped over by people ten times its size. Meiling showed them to the gate, bid them farewell, then made sure to pull it back shut as she retreated back inside. The massive wrought iron construction didn't seem to slow the gate guard down whatsoever. Now, all that awaited them was a walk through the outskirts of the Forest of Magic and towards the Human Village, which seemed to have quite the surplus of signage pointing folks towards it despite the relative lack of detours on the road. Perhaps Gensokyo was difficult to navigate at times? Not that any trouble beyond boredom seemed to be presenting itself to the group - for once - beyond the lack of entertainment beyond sniffing the occasional mushroom waiting for them on the road.

Justine sighed. She had hoped she would have time to gather herself. The singer wasn't the picture of stoicism, per se, but she had always tried to put on a good face for everyone else. Arthur's concern was touching, too, but she wasn't sure she quite deserved it at the moment. "I wouldn't really call it stellar." She continued to walk as she spoke, ambling aimlessly through the woods. "It's just one mistake, but. . ." She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder if I should even be here. Too many dreams, and not enough sense."

Soul discovered the joy and pain of being able to eat essentially whatever they felt like. Another pang of hunger struck them, prompting the clone to use their sword as a ladle to scoop up some nice, fresh magma and pour it down their gullet. One horrifyingly painful mouthful later, they discover that all of it is, indeed, going somewhere, as they gingerly feel at the bits of their mouth that now seem to be made of molten rock. (How that works is a bit beyond Soul.) However, there was still something to accomplish. "No use wasting any more time, right? Someone grab that still, and everyone not grabbing it get ready to fight some gribbly thing."

With the immediate threats gone, Justine takes a moment to really process what had just happened. When they'd attacked, she'd rushed in without a thought, wanting to fight alongside her allies. Now, though, the gravity of the situation was beginning to pull at her. She glanced between Arthur and Mim, with shame and regret creeping into the woman's normally carefree countenance. "I. . ." For once, her words failed her. "I should go." The minstrel turned to walk into the trees nearby, making short, hurried strides.

Soul, after choosing a name, refining their newfound talents, and creating a weapon - a ragged looking thing made of a jagged piece of metal and spare cabling - heads towards the elevator with the others. "Alright, I'm making my own way. I'm going to fight that thing now and then we can get Tim's still back and get out of here, or something." They then promptly located the nearest non-elevator source of metal and began quite literally eating their way downwards.

"Snowbird!" As Death had jerked Mim into the path of her blade, Justine tried to stop her swing, but couldn't manage to direct it away from Mim - and worse, she hadn't even succeeded in getting him to lose the killing position he had. Time seemed to slow down as he drew his bow up again. . . and then the lance pierced him, accompanied by a mighty shout. "Knight!" Her outcry was quite the opposite of her previous one, a joyous celebration of their reunion. She didn't waste any more time, though; she ducked around the lance thrust in her direction as the pegasus rider turned and fled, and darted in to make another assault on Death. This time, though, it was a simple feint (not that she seemed to need one); her real goal was snatching Mim from Death's grasp.

The soul-eating clone blinks. "Do what?" They glance down and notice the issue, which prompts a resounding shrug. "I was hungry," they state, as if this explained the entire thing. "You should try that too, I feel much better now." The clone continues to sniff about, looking for more metal to much on.

The clone tilted their head at the one with the fancy words's reaction to the strange man appearing. That seemed rather. . . odd. Not that this clone had much of a frame of reference. Disregarding that, though, there was another subject to be considered. "So how exactly does hooch help us live?" They also didn't know what hooch was, but no need to let that on. "And who's. . . Stinkdoubler?

"Don't you already have words?" The clone waves their arm a bit in a desultory fashion, before. . . doing something that kind of resembles what the other clone was doing for a moment in an attempt to stand up. "I also don't like that," they declare, before standing up in a more normal fashion. "What's going on here, anyway? Why do I suddenly exist and why didn't I exist before?"

One of the clones unceremoniously flops to the ground out of their pod, and seems to be dead for a moment before groaning and rolling over. "I don't know what's going on but I don't think I like it already." They glance over towards the rest, who are variously flailing and yelling. "And you're all noisy." The clone thinks for a moment. "Is that a bad thing?"

Justine leapt forward as soon as she noted the others, smoothly drawing her sword from its place before her. She dove into a roll to close the distance faster - a maneuver she'd practiced, but never with a sharp blade - then sprung out of it directly into an attack on Death, her blade arcing through the air towards the arm that held his bow.

"Curious, the words of one who's allowed himself to fall so low." Justine stepped backward, pulling Joyeuse and its sheath from her belt in the same smooth motion. "What tragedy has to befall a person to prompt them to take up sin itself as a cause?" She planted the weapon in the ground next to her, the metal tip of the scabbard digging into the dirt just enough to keep the light weapon in place. The ostentatious display was mostly to hide the fact that her body was coiled like a spring, ready to follow through on whatever it was Kane was planning.

The repeated impacts rocked Hiroki, threatening to disrupt her focus as she was smashed against the floor (alongside an errant mote of surprise that there were multiple floors to be smashed through in the first place.) A realization, however, kept her steady. He was attacking with a weapon, crashing into her physically. Though her armor's integrity was compromised, it would still hold up to a beating that way. After being punched through another floor by a toss of the trident, Hiroki waited for the instant Watcher began his dive, then rolled herself, the battered thrusters still proving sufficient to move the Knight about with its reduced mass - and took Watcher's trident with her. She aimed a swing of her cannon at where she anticipated he'd be when he landed, then tried to right herself while staying on top of Watcher should that be an opportunity. (Reflex bonus used)

Hiroki had felt bad for a split second as she saw the ruinous damage she was inflicting on Watcher. Ultimately, she only wanted to win the fight; if she had to break him, she would, but it wasn't something she aimed to do. Of course, she didn't have very long to feel bad, as Watcher's reply simply removed the offending limb of the Knight - which caused yet another flash of pain from the suddenly-exposed arm. The Hellfire Knight assessed her rapidly dwindling options. She couldn't stall, his attacks seemingly completely ignored her armor. Most of the melee power of her mech was concentrated in that arm; the heavy legs would do a lot of damage if they connected properly, but a mobile, hovering opponent wasn't exactly in prime kicking territory. Her ranged assaults didn't seem like they were going to do a whole lot more than feed his attacks at best, and that was assuming he didn't just start to do what he did before. A plan started to form in her head, and she quickly shuffled it backward; that would be a last resort, as it was just as likely to make things better as worse. For now, she couldn't let herself be deterred. Her guns opened up again, but this time it wasn't aimed at Watcher directly; as Hiroki advanced, her array of weapons did their best to target Watcher's own attacks, firing into them and trying to disrupt the incoming destructive energy with her own. She tried to close on him again; if she could get another physical assault, or even get close enough to use the same tactic she'd used on Arcturus. . .

Mitsurugi raised an eyebrow at the approach. A pocket realm like this wasn't what she expected, though it wasn't entirely foreign to her, either. "Interesting. . ." More unusual was the unwanted presence. Places like this were typically hard for a demon to breach - though if it was an inn simply placed along the road, it likely didn't have many safeguards. But then, why go through the effort of placing it in such a way? Perhaps Lexiel had been right; this place did seem to function differently from her home, even if many things were the same. "But we should not stop to gawk."

"Ah, so you're one of those." She gingerly stepped sideways, dodging a few droplets of blood that had arced through the air after Jack caught the blade with his everything. "You know, there's one thing about blades; you have to get close to use them. How realistic is your sensor suite again?" The mercenary let her gun swing to the side on a strap, while her sleeves rolled down to reveal two devices mounted to her wrists. "'Cause it's going to get a a test run here." She stuck her arms out towards Executioner, and seemingly just clenched her fists. A wave of flames roared out ahead of her, surging towards their opponent. Wrist Flamers on Executioner, dealing 2d4+2 burn damage for 2 rounds, and 5 recoil damage to Scarlet.

Nemesis was considering just leaving their rather overly excitable friend in the building when he hit upon an idea. If they were waiting for someone to save the day, then he could oblige. "I'll take care of this," he said, loudly enough to be audible, before taking off towards the building and past the lines of soldiers. Why am I doing this. . . ? She would make a convenient bullet catcher, at least, though even the value of that was already starting to pale in comparison to this level of trouble. He glanced back at Eleanor just long enough to determine if she was following, then continued on his way.