Mystydjinn
[Insert rimshot]
Striking the Match
Aeria Luxus - Moonlit Rain
Aelflead Kirastes - Mystydjinn
Wordcount: 1406
Aelflead Kirastes - Mystydjinn
Wordcount: 1406
Maius 30th 0400 Hours
Dlink tink ding plink is the sound of a bottle clattering across cobblestone in the dead of night.
It caught the attention of a brooding figure with red hair slinking through Terminus’ Esquilinium district, and as it did, the skulking figure froze, scanning for other night owls in the shadows.
Nothing else pierced the night’s silence though, and after a moment of waiting the lonely figure continued her trek; and to anyone watching, the stranger looked like an actual shadow jumping between the company of its sisters.
It was only when it reached its destination, the window of an apartment a whole story off the ground, that it could be distinguished from shadows through something besides its behavior.
A flash of crimson and fuchsia fluttered in the night briefly and suddenly, then ducked into the apartment’s window. Limited information, but invaluable within the right context.
A tuft of violet and blue peeked out from the top of a bed in the corner of the apartment bedroom beside a tiny nightstand and a clothes chest sat behind the bed. With purposeful footsteps the shadow crept inside without a sound and left two items.
A letter with no seal, simply marked: “A.K.” on its face; and a costume that was two pieces, technically three: a battle skirt and shorts made with tanned strips of hide decorated by metal studs, and a top that left the middle bare but covered the shoulders with flaming epaulets.
Separate from the rest, a long black tube of fabric with hard caps covered with flames matching the epaulets on either end completed the costume.
The letter was left on the desk and the costume folded and laid atop the clothes chest at the bed’s foot. Then the shadow was gone just as quickly as it had come, the window it’d entered shut a little tighter than it had been when she arrived.
She had thought she’d heard something in the middle of the night, in the midst of a dream. When Aeria awoke, she stared around blearily, because there was something out of place and she didn’t know what it was. It took her a minute to realize that it was a flame dancer’s costume and a minute more to realize that it had a note on it. It was a note with Aelflead’s initials on it. The sneaky woman had managed to break and enter without being noticed. Some security this place has thought Aeria wryly.
Aeria had already been accepted as a flame dancer for Bellator’s Fire, so this was just another step in their unfolding plan. She would gain access to the stage as a flame dancer to execute the next part of her mission. All she had to do now was wait until that day (and learn to deal with the amount of flesh she was going to have to display) before they could make their decisive move against TorBru. Part of her just wanted to keep hiding, but eventually the corporation would seek her out, so she was going to try and take the fight to them. Though to be honest, Aelflead getting involved had stripped most of the alternative away. The woman too was stubborn too be dismissed and too decisive to be bargained with.
The flowing script inside the letter she’d left was no exception to either of those traits. Its tone was extremely casual, but it read like a military debriefing. Even the tail end of the letter was commanding.
-And stay out of sight until you’re actually on stage. They’ll have guards in the crowd, and if they catch you early, I might laugh, but you’ll be on your own.
-Aelflead Kirastes
Aelflead didn’t seem to have a civil bone in her body, but at least she was unfriendly and on her side.
Something clattered on the stone outside and sunlight streamed into the room onto the table the letter sat upon.
Not that it mattered, she had real work to worry about and the day was beginning.
No sense in being late.
Bellator’s Fire, 1200 Hours
Since the day that she read Aelf’s letter, Aeria had gone to the rehearsals for the Bellator’s Fire dance. She’d shown the kind of physical aptitude they’d wanted in the dancers and she’d even managed to adjust to the skimpy nature of the costumes. Now that she was up on stage, in the midst of the real performance, she felt surprisingly confident. The athletic spurii knew the movements and was able to carry them off with ease. In fact, she was starting to enjoy herself. At least, that is, until she turned her head to glance out at the crowd and felt her stomach drop hard.
TorBru’s terrifying chief of security, the demvir Mortuus, was shouldering his way through the crowd watching the dance unfold and she could spot others, clearly members of his security detail, also working their way towards the stage. This was what they’d wanted to happen, so even though her instincts were screaming at her to run, she just had to keep dancing until she could lure Mortuus backstage and into Aelf’s clutches.
The dance had nearly concluded and Aeria was getting ready to move when there was a dull, hollow thud followed by sudden screams and the trampling of running feet. The sounds came from behind her, and the lithe spurii whirled around as she saw the entirety of the backstage crew running out of the curtained area. Counterintuitively, Aeria began to run back through the screaming, terrified crowd towards the area in which her halberd was concealed.
It was then that she heard Aelflead Kirastes scream.
Aelflead’s voice had hardly left the timbre of a disinterested grumble even once since the spurii had known her but the voice was unmistakable.
Redoubling her efforts, Aeria sprinted hard to the rack that held prop weapons and her real halberd. She snatched it up and sprinted towards the sound of her companion’s scream.
The tableau in front of her stopped her as dead in her tracks as Mortuus and his gang backed away from roiling black smoke crackling with arcs of red lightning rising into the air.
Its source was an inferno exploding around the remains of Aelflead’s left arm and the inky darkness of a portal ringed with cracked bronze metal below her.
Her glamour had faded along with her grim mask of annoyance. She was not a silent rooftop window hopper, a mercenary with a chip on her shoulder, or even a stoic warrior who’d seen too much. While the flames consumed-or on closer inspection, exploded from her arm, she was a remarkably terrified woman screaming in pain, and seemingly a doorway to a burning hell.
The chaos radiating from the woman’s presence quickly spread to the crowd, and while they hadn’t turned tail to run yet, confusion and shock ran rampant among them.
Besides Aeria, only two men had managed to keep something resembling their wits and one; -a heavy-set, richly dressed man had turned tail and run; the other, a demvir of wide frame made entirely of black metal, Mortuus, stood the closest to the inferno with a pistol trained on the woman’s head.
Smoke or not, a two-bit half-blooded assassin wasn’t standing in between him and his prize.
The massive claw ripping through the portal-seemingly born from the burning arm on Aelflead- did little to dissuade him, though it did provide the cover he needed. He could just kill the sloppy excuse for a body guard right now and grab Aeria with the crowd in a tizzy.
While the demonic claw flexed and found a handhold on the platform its doorway rested on and drove the crowd into a tizzy of chaos and fear exacerbated by the recent demon invasion, the temperature began to rapidly rise in the plaza. The drapes on the stage had already caught fire-
A eye surrounded by bone peered through the portal.
The Conexus can handle another whelp from Infernalis that didn’t get the memo. Mortuus thought and cocked his pistol’s hammer.
Then, flame exploded from the portal there was a flash of movement within it.
Followed by the sound of metal being shredded through something's teeth.
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