05-21-2020, 10:39 PM
[font=trebuchet ms]/let's get this show on the road, shall we? >
A perfectly-coordinated attack had fallen to pieces in the span of a few minutes. Typical as this may have been with Elysium, the Messenger still couldn't hide his irritation as he descended towards the town, the cries of his servants filling the air. Playerone was probably dead, at the very least, and if not she had to at least be incapacitated. That stunt she'd pulled... there was no way she could have come out of that without some major injuries.
He was pretty sore himself- he'd had to exert his power to its fullest extent in order to deflect her attack- but he could still fly, teleport, and manipulate the wind, and that was all that mattered. This was fine. Everything was fine.
Slowing to a stop in the midst of the town square, he quickly spotted the American crow among the chaos. You- where is Warringkingdoms? he demanded telepathically, flying close enough so that the American crow could see him as well. Looking back at him, the American crow cawed loudly, an expression that could only have meant it didn't know any more than he did.
Whirling around to sweep his gaze over the crows- some already dead, some bloodstained, some singed- he narrowed his eyes. How in Jupiter's name had they lost track of their target? They'd had one job.
"Cease!" the Messenger cawed, sending a telepathic pulse through the crowd of crows so they could be sure he was addressing them. As they turned to look at him, awaiting further orders- bless their mindless little hearts- he narrowed his eyes and turned to the festivalgoers. "Those of you who aren't Elysites, leave. This isn't your fight. We have no desire to harm you." Best to get rid of the clutter now, before the rest of his allies got the entirety of the landmass on their case.
Glancing around, he shouted, "Warringkingdoms! Show yourself now, and no Elysites will be harmed either." This was going to result in a fight, he was certain of that much- the Elysites didn't know the meaning of the phrase "not your fight." Hopefully, though, the target's savior complex would kick in before anyone else had time to do any real damage. If she didn't realize Play was already dead, that was all the better.
Regardless, the Messenger quickly took stock of his servants. A couple of them were already lying dead on the ground thanks to the Elysites, and... there had to be at least ten of them missing with no explanation. He estimated he had about twenty left, which was less than ideal, but he'd make it work.
Remaining in place, he watched the gathering crowd, both to search for Warringkingdoms and to prepare for an incoming attack.
The Messenger
Health: 90%
Current form: pied crow with blue eyes
Powers: air elementals, teleportation, mental manipulation/communication
Currently attacking: none
(his crows are also not attacking at the moment, but feel free to powerplay them anyway)
A perfectly-coordinated attack had fallen to pieces in the span of a few minutes. Typical as this may have been with Elysium, the Messenger still couldn't hide his irritation as he descended towards the town, the cries of his servants filling the air. Playerone was probably dead, at the very least, and if not she had to at least be incapacitated. That stunt she'd pulled... there was no way she could have come out of that without some major injuries.
He was pretty sore himself- he'd had to exert his power to its fullest extent in order to deflect her attack- but he could still fly, teleport, and manipulate the wind, and that was all that mattered. This was fine. Everything was fine.
Slowing to a stop in the midst of the town square, he quickly spotted the American crow among the chaos. You- where is Warringkingdoms? he demanded telepathically, flying close enough so that the American crow could see him as well. Looking back at him, the American crow cawed loudly, an expression that could only have meant it didn't know any more than he did.
Whirling around to sweep his gaze over the crows- some already dead, some bloodstained, some singed- he narrowed his eyes. How in Jupiter's name had they lost track of their target? They'd had one job.
"Cease!" the Messenger cawed, sending a telepathic pulse through the crowd of crows so they could be sure he was addressing them. As they turned to look at him, awaiting further orders- bless their mindless little hearts- he narrowed his eyes and turned to the festivalgoers. "Those of you who aren't Elysites, leave. This isn't your fight. We have no desire to harm you." Best to get rid of the clutter now, before the rest of his allies got the entirety of the landmass on their case.
Glancing around, he shouted, "Warringkingdoms! Show yourself now, and no Elysites will be harmed either." This was going to result in a fight, he was certain of that much- the Elysites didn't know the meaning of the phrase "not your fight." Hopefully, though, the target's savior complex would kick in before anyone else had time to do any real damage. If she didn't realize Play was already dead, that was all the better.
Regardless, the Messenger quickly took stock of his servants. A couple of them were already lying dead on the ground thanks to the Elysites, and... there had to be at least ten of them missing with no explanation. He estimated he had about twenty left, which was less than ideal, but he'd make it work.
Remaining in place, he watched the gathering crowd, both to search for Warringkingdoms and to prepare for an incoming attack.
The Messenger
Health: 90%
Current form: pied crow with blue eyes
Powers: air elementals, teleportation, mental manipulation/communication
Currently attacking: none
(his crows are also not attacking at the moment, but feel free to powerplay them anyway)
[font=trebuchet ms]some weirdo