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kirin

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Kell almost expects it when they come.

He keeps to himself in Darrow, but even he's heard murmurs of people disappearing, and every name he recognizes is someone from whom he's felt power. Now, woundless yet bleeding in an alley, Kell thinks he ought to have been better prepared.

He doesn't fear fighting another being with magic, but this is something else, some perversion of science or birth, something more than simple human or magician. The first person to attempt to grab him had been able to summon storms in the air, not the individual elements of air and fire and wind as Kell can, but the very tempest itself. The next had seeming skin of solid metal, a material Kell is more than capable of manipulating, but the third seems to have power over blood itself, drawing it from Kell without a wound, as neatly as Holland ever had with the stone.

His own fault, no doubt. Kell doesn't hide that his power is best used when channeled by his own spilled blood, but his enemies now know it, too. It's clever of them to attempt to drain him, though Kell has no intention of letting them. He could place his bloody hand on the wall and travel safely home, but they might be waiting for him there, and regardless - Kell wants to fight.

Thankfully, his attacker's power seems to require that they meet eyes, and hidden as he is, the seep of blood from Kell's palms and mouth has slowed. He places a red hand on the ground and murmurs, "As Osoro," Darken, filling the air with an unnatural shadow that grows to fill the alley. "As Athera," he continues, Grow, standing as the darkness fills the alley's opening and beyond. "As Enose," Kell snarls, and steps into the growing black.

Find.

He dearly hopes this bloodletter isn't wise enough to run.

[this is an open post but i felt weird putting it in the comm, tag if you like. i don't know why i'm like this either 8D]

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Matthias is walking down the sidewalk, watching as the sky dims from deep blue to a purple dusk. The impending evening is chilly, and as he gets further from the main part of the city the amount of people that pass him become fewer and fewer.

Without sound or warning, the tranquil night transforms right before Matthias' eyes. An inky darkness bleeds into the air, the edges billowing like smoke. But it isn't, there isn't texture or scent, it's just black. He spins around, but the shadow has consumed him and it's all he can see in every direction. Matthias's fists clench at his sides.

"What is this?" His voice is an animal growl as he tries to get his bearings.

Kell's head jerks at the voice. It's not Matthias for whom the spell was meant, so Kell can't be certain of his exact place in the darkness. He makes his best guess and moves forward, his outstretched hand landing on a large arm.

"You should go," Kell says, his voice a rasp from the blood that's passed his lips. It's pitch black before him, but he thinks he can make up a shift in the darkness that marks the way Matthias must have come. "There is evil here. Go back the way you came."

"Antari?" Matthias hisses. The Antari is lucky he spoke as his hand made contact, because Matthias had been poised to attack.

He reaches out and his palm finds the wet sleeve of the Antari's coat. It's damp and sticky, and Matthias realizes he can smell it. The sharp iron scent of blood.

"I can't even see the way I came," he grumbles, keeping his voice low at the mention of evil, eyes darting around, though he can hardly see a thing. "Is this your blood? Is someone after you?"

"Yes," says Kell, pulling at Matthias, though it's like trying to move a mountain. "Sharing this darkness with us is a man who can make you bleed just by looking at you. He's come to collect me, just as the others like me are being collected."

Unable to move him as he pleases, Kell resorts to pushing. "Go."

Matthias remains unmoved. He isn't afraid, and for all he knows the Antari is pushing him toward whoever this assailant is.

"I'm not going to leave you here," he snaps, keeping his voice as low as he can in hopes it will be for the Antari's ears only. "I'm a warrior. I can fight."

A man who can make someone bleed simply by looking at them? It sounds like a Heartrender, only by using their eyes instead of their hands. It is close enough.

Kell curses beneath his breath. He can handle himself, but if he must look out for two in a fight his chances at coming out unscathed rapidly dwindle, but Matthias will not be moved.

"As Illumae," he murmurs to the darkness, and it fades to mere shadows. "Take him if you can, but do not look in his eyes," Kell cautions. "I will try to draw him out."

Kell steps towards his attacker, summoning chunks of earth that batter at him, forcing him to choose to flee or redouble his efforts to incapacitate Kell.

The Antari's power is beyond what Matthias has seen. He seems able to master light and dark, and the earth. Grisha's powers usually focus in one area, one element.

Matthias thinks the Antari himself is a perfect distraction, and he murmurs, "I'll come from behind." Hoping the shadows don't extend endlessly, he slips deeper into them, away from the Antari, and, he hopes, out of sight of the man the Antari is fighting. The Antari has created his own shadowy zone, Matthias realizes as he slips back into twilight. It's still dark, but the street lights and the moon are enough to see by. He skirts the edge of the impromptu battlezone, dodging a few rocks that fly past him when he gets too close.

He can just see movement, and when he sees an opening, he takes it, tackling the man from behind and slamming him to the ground.

The man drops, and Kell rushes forward, tearing a piece of cloth from his own shirt to wrap around his eyes. He realizes as he ties it off that perhaps he needn't have bothered - the blindfolded man struck the ground so hard beneath Matthias' weight that he is quite unconscious.

"As Anasae," Kell breathes out, dispelling the darkness. He blinks at Matthias, offering him his non-bloodied hand to help him rise. "Thank you."

Matthias takes the Antari's hand without thinking, climbing off his opponent's back and getting to his feet. "You're welcome," he says, thrown off for a moment by the entire strange situation he's found himself in. Helping Nina had been part of getting that pardon. And it had been Nina. This, he had no stakes in; but the Antari had tried to warn him and keep him from danger.

Matthias stays.

"He isn't dead, you should bind his hands as well. Are there some kind of authorities to alert?" he asks, doubtful. Isn't that what KIRIN is trying to form? The police that already exist in Darrow, they said, are for normal humans. They probably won't know what to do with someone with unnatural powers.

"I believe he is an authority," Kell replies grimly. He is exhausted after so much magic, his mouth and chin still painted with blood, but he kneels, summoning bits of metal to form chains that encircle the man's hands.

He nearly doesn't make it back to standing. "He came for me in particular, and he knew exactly what I can do."

Matthias watches in muted interest, mixed with an uneasy prickling of fear, at how the Antari creates metal chains from nothing.

When the Antari wobbles, Matthias instinctively reaches out a hand to help steady him. Something about his explanation doesn't sit well with Matthias, it sounds too close to KIRIN.

"Had you done something to provoke him? Something that would send him, or others, after you?" he asks.

"I am different," Kell snaps, pulling his arm away from Matthias despite his help. If they've come after him, they've surely come after those less equipped to save themselves, and he finds his patience thin. "I look different, that is enough for most of their ilk. Apart from healing that boy in the park, I've done nothing else to attract notice."

Kell lifts his chin, meeting Matthias' fair eyes with his own. "They are collecting magicians. I know few in this city, but even I have heard of many going missing."

"I'm not blaming you. I'm trying to find logic in this," Matthias says, but it's a lie, and it twists his stomach to tell it. He knows what this must be; what would be the odds of a second force dealing in super powered individuals? But coming after people and using other super powered beings to do so? They hadn't told him that. He hasn't seen anyone being kept for trial.

"I haven't," Matthias says, uneasy. Perhaps he simply doesn't talk to enough people. And of magicians, he knows only one. The man in front of him.

He glances down at the prone man, bound in chains. "What should we do with him?"

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In truth, Sirius doesn't particularly need to have bought a load of decorations seeing as he could more than easily cast a spell upon Kieren's entire flat. But there's a certain delightful novelty in buying colourful streamers and banners and balloons. He's spent the past two hours in one single shop, filling four bags with the stuff. Next on his list is the cake which, of course, is an absolute necessity even if Kieren can't eat or taste it himself. It is a joint party, after all, and Sirius requires a cake. He's only likely to turn twenty-two once.

He's in quite a good mood, actually, bags hanging heavy from his fingers as he approaches his motorbike.

Which is when he notices the clouds.

It's midday, is the thing. Cold and slightly cloudy, but there's a darkness like Sirius hasn't seen in months seeping out the alley across the street. A chill rises up Sirius's spine and, despite his better judgment, Sirius hangs the bags of decorations off the handlebars of his bike and, after casting a surreptitious look about, slips his wand from his jacket and quickly crosses the street.

There's no odor to accompany the darkness and no sign of the source as Sirius silently slips around the corner. With a whisper, Sirius casts a sight spell enabling him to see a figure only feet away. He's turning about, doubtlessly attempting to see through the shroud of dark, and Sirius stills, watching intently. Intently enough to notice another figure seconds later, this one far more familiar as it keeps crouched low, one light eye and one dark locked on the sightless man.

Sirius hasn't a clue what's happening, but he knows Kell, he trusts Kell.

Without a word, Sirius raises his wand, instantly binding the man in a tangle of ropes, sending him toppling to the ground.

Kell feels it the moment the magic changes, shaped not only by his own will anymore, but by an energy he's come to recognize as Sirius. The small, silent part of him that'd been as lonely as it was angry is comforted, but Kell looks nothing short of murderous when he speaks a new spell to make a hole in the darkness. "As Illumae."

The darkness doesn't disappear, but it does make room, billowing outward around a man bound now in a tangle of ropes. Kell summons a gust of whatever filthy detritus he can find lining the alley floor and throws the smallest elements forward, the effect not unlike having a handful of sand thrown into the man's eyes. He screams and closes them but, bound as he is, can get no relief from the sting.

With blood covering his hands and shirt front, staining his chin and the corners of his mouth where it had spilled over, Kell knows he must make for a sight, but he only spares Sirius a quick nod in thanks before he takes command of his attackers bones, dragging him like a broken puppet towards standing.

"Why did you attack me?"

As impressive as it is, Sirius is wholly unsurprised by the way the darkness seems to bend to Kell's will with just a word, curving to let in a circle of light upon the man wrapped head-to-toe in rope, writhing and screaming, the sound only interrupted by a coughing fit as the man nearly inadvertently swallows a small bit of whirling paper.

A moment later, Sirius watches an utterly bloodied Kell pull the man to his feet without so much as lifting a finger. his eyes dark and dangerous as he approaches, voice dripping with venom.

It's a powerful sight and, if Sirius didn't know Kell better, he might be alarmed himself. As it is, however, he steps free of the shadows himself, wand at the ready.

The bound man coughs again before his lips curl into a sneer. He's either decided to stop fighting the hold of the ropes or Kell is controlling that as well. "You're valuable, sweetheart," he says. "Can get a pretty penny for you." His eyes dart to Sirius then as well and he adds, "You two, Scooby."

Sirius frowns, not sure what to make of that, any part of it, particularly if he's supposed to find offense at the strange name.

He nearly opens his mouth to question when there's a heavy thud just behind him, followed immediately by a hand clasped tight around his neck.

"You wish to sell us."

It come as more statement than question from Kell's bloodied mouth. He knows what he is, more thing than person, a symbol of the Arnesian Empire's might to be stolen or destroyed. That the same might happen here sits as well with Kell as it had at home, and his eyes harden even as the man in ropes gives a gasp as his bones grind together.

He falls to the ground like a puppet with cut strings in the next moment as Kell spins towards the sound of Sirius in pain. "Tac," he swears, finding the metal man has made his return and has one enormous hand wrapped around Sirius' throat, lifting his feet right off the ground.

Kell's mind races. His options are limited with Sirius in harm's way, and he drops to place a hand on the ground, uttering, "As Isera." Freeze. Ice spreads from his fingertips and races towards the huge man who holds Kell's only friend, and Kell rises, hoping that the suddenly slick ground will make him stumble long enough to let Sirius go.

Sirius's breath and voice is stolen with one tight clasp, the enormous thing behind him large and strong enough to lift Sirius right off his feet. Immediately, Sirius reaches to grab at the hand wrapped around his neck, wand still held in one hand as he grapples at the hold, his legs kicking wildly.

Faintly, he's aware of Kell speaking again, another word Sirius has no hope of understanding. But between one second and the next, he's crashing to the ground, the enormous creature falling with him. The hold on his neck loosens just enough for Sirius to fight free, but his feet slip immediately on a stretch of ice he's certain hadn't been there seconds ago, sending him crashing to the ground, his shoulder colliding sharply with hard surface.

The pain is immediate, a bright flare of it shooting straight down Sirius's arm, intensifying as he stumbles to his feet. Weakly, he points his wand, growling a quick, "Stupify," to at least still the great beast's movements as he stumbles to rest against the nearest wall, looking toward Kell as he tries to catch his breath.

"Sell us?" he sputters, trying his best to cradle his arm. "You have any clue what he's talking about?"

Kell rushes forward, sparing only a second's awe for the spell that sends the metal man flying backwards with a flick of Sirius' wand. He pushes his hand past Sirius' collar to grasp his bare shoulder with his bloodied palm. "As Hasari."

The healing spell will take time, but at least he can be sure that Sirius' bones will reset. "All over Darrow I hear whispers of people gone missing." Kell looks back at the metal man, still unconscious on the ground. "They are not disappearing of their own free will. More will come."

Swallowing hard, Kell ignores the onset of his own exhaustion, weighing his chances at surviving through more fights. He doesn't like to turn and run, but Sirius is hurt. "We should travel away from here."

"Bloody fuck," Sirius cries out when Kell claps a bloodied palm to Sirius's shoulder, the weight sending a brand new flash of pain straight to his fingertips and everywhere in between. Kell leaves a red streak in his wake and Sirius grimaces at the sight of it, still trying to catch his breath. "Still hurts," he says, though he understands enough now of how Kell's powers work to know it'll take sometime.

But it does still fucking hurt.

The spell on metal man will eventually wear off and, while Sirius isn't entirely sure what Kell's done to the one wound in ropes, he has a feeling it too, will fade. Arching an eyebrow at Kell, Sirius replies, "And you believe we won't be followed?" he says. "Or found."

Apparition is easiest, of course, but where to? If these men were able to track Kell here, there's certainly a decent chance they've discovered his warehouse.

"Perhaps," says Kell, watching the metallic man's prone form so he does not have to look at Sirius' pain face. "But for now, this is the first place they will look." Kell pulls Sirius along by his good arm, touching his bloody hand to the wall. He draws a circle and then a line and presses his hand to the spot. The wall ripples, and Kell pulls Sirius forward and through, stepping the pair of them into an alley near the tea house he favors.

Kell waits, but all is quiet. "I can only take us places I have been, but I can find a safe, empty place." The magic will likely drain him, but it will be worth it. "If I do, can you journey us there in your fashion?"

Kell grabs him by the arm, dragging him to a wall that Kell immediately then paints in streaks of red. "I've a new goal, I think," he murmurs largely to himself as he cradles his wounded arm and frowns at the unfamiliar symbol on the wall. "Just once, I'd like to have an entire conversation with you wherein you spend not a single moment of it bleeding."

Between one blink and the next, he and Kell are standing in an entirely different alley, the unmistakable scent of tea leaves in the air. Sirius glances upward and then around, searching out the two bodies he and Kell had taken together.

"Oh, that is brilliant!" he says, his face breaking into a wide smile as he looks back to Kell. "Do you have to get a license for that?" It's much smoother a trip than Apparition, he'll admit, though he's quite glad he doesn't have to slice open his palm to make it happen. "I can transport us anywhere I can visualize," he adds, sobering slightly to answer Kell's question. "It helps if I've been there before. Otherwise, the chance of splinching is a good deal more likely."

Edited 2016-03-24 22:23 (UTC)

Kell nods. Then it will have to be somewhere one of them knows. Fortunately, Kell does have a room that is not his apartment. It is small and cramped, but empty without his many treasures to fill it. It will have to do for now.

"No," he answers. "Only Antari can move in this way, and I think I'm done asking anyone's permission today." Sirius still holds himself like a wounded bird, filling Kell with new determination despite his fatigue. "I have a place," he says, and this time he paints an X on the wall.

At home, the symbol would have led him to Master Kieren and the quietude of his stone walls. Here, it leads to a new sanctuary. "Come," says Kell, taking hold of Sirius again to draw him through, stepping from the alley into a tiny room, perched at the top of a building where Randolph Street ends. From the little window one can even see the park, and Kell breathes in a sigh of relief.

"No one knows of this place," he says. "It will not be comfortable, but we'll be safe here until we find another."

Kell takes him by the arm once more and, knowing what to expect this time, Sirius goes easily, stepping from the alley into a very small room. Judging by the view from the window, Sirius knows they're at least a few stories high. The view is at least familiar.

Unsurprisingly, but rather unfortunately, they're still in Darrow.

"And how did you find this place?" Sirius asks, glancing about the place. There really isn't very much to see, cramped a space as it is. "Is this where you're going to start hoarding new treasures?"

"There was a vacancy, and yes, that is the plan," Kell answers. His room at the Setting Sun had had a bed at least, and all Kell has now to offer Sirius to rest is a blanket. One he must destroy, he realizes, to make a binding for Sirius' arm.

"Sit," Kell says, motioning to the empty space beneath window. He takes up the blanket he'd bought on a whim, pleased by the realistic image of the kitten against an impossible setting, and tears off a long strip. "Can you remove your shirt or do you need help?"