Clash of Cults

[orleanide]

[Tonight on Victorian London: Emerald edition, we bring you a normal everyday ritual.

For the most part.

Under an abandoned church - the remains of the Order of Dagon - a new group has set up their own gathering. Shrouded in dark hoods, at least twenty people have been separated into groups of three or so with an overseer for each.

In short: it's sort of like a classroom for cultists. Most of these people are new and trying to harness the energy from the rift that infamously goes through London. Surely their god will be pleased. But before they try the main event, they really need to get their newbies into shape. Just going through some basic summonings and magical exercises, nothing that should be too bad.

Enter a problem: See that weirdly shiny relic in the center of these destroyed, watery ruins? Another cult happens to believe that belongs to their God. That cult is currently waiting in the shadows for a moment to strike and attempt to steal it. So maybe they ruined this harmless practice session on purpose or maybe the rift in spacetime was too much for the newbies to handle. Either way, their summoning doesn't go...right. It gives cult number two over there a chance to run in, magic ready.

So where does this leave you?

Maybe you were just summoned in. Maybe you were spying. Maybe you were invited as a witness to the training session. Maybe you were passing by when fireworks started blasting out of the church ruins.

Either way you should probably get out of here. There are strangely spacious sewer exits against the right wall, definitely wide enough for people to go through. There are crumbling stairs and doors going to winding catacombs. Maybe you can follow some of the escaping cultists and hope they don't turn on you. Maybe someone will rescue you.

All of it is up to you.]

Comments

[inhumanity]

Oh, yes. [The grin becomes wider—more of those reassuring shark teeth. Christopher, whose casual tone suggests he isn't worried at all, points.] You see? Like lions over a prize watering hole, these two groups are battling for control over this area.

Now. [He extends a finger in order to poke Rin in the chest.] As I asked before: fight or flight? If you don't pick, I'll have to flip a coin. What if I lose the coin? What if it disappears forever into the darkness? How will I explain to Will that I mislaid my lunch money? I could be demoted, and it would be all the fault of your indecision. Fight or flight?

[sharkastic]

[They're not so much reassuring as so absurd that Rin's logic has flat-out thrown in the towel, Chris. But, well, perhaps the end result is not all that dissimilar.

Rin actually follows the pointing obediently enough, because maybe there's something he missed, but...]

I'm seeing hooded people throwing around either magic or laser beams over a dump. [His tone is completely flat as he scoots back and glares at the offending finger.] Practice your lines much?

[No, seriously, are you expecting him to just swallow that load of nonsense you call dialogue, what kind of person even talks like that. Even Haru doesn't talk like that.

(Nagisa talks a little like that, actually.)

... This could be a dream, his dreams are pretty ridiculous sometimes, but he'd like to think his subconscious has slightly better taste.]

Go buy yourself lunch or something.

[His lines would be so much better, if only he had any idea where he was going or maybe had a weapon or was able to walk through walls. He's still going to look around for promising exits, because the alternative is to contemplate his off-color Nagisa impression.]

[inhumanity]

All right! [Christopher sticks his hand in his pocket and draws out a coin.] Heads for fight, tails for flight! [He grins at Rin.] Get it? Because you turn tail.

[Chuckling merrily at his own joke, Christopher flips the coin, catches it (as if he ever might not), and slaps it onto the back of his hand. He draws his palm away.]

Heads.

[Christopher looks up at Rin, and he grins.] Stay here and stay quiet, all right? I won't let them hurt you.

[That is when blades appear in Christopher's hands.

With one swing of the wrist, a handful of knives get thrown out and hit a handful of the cult members in the neck. They don't have time to find out what is taking down their fellows: Christopher is already charging into the mass, laughing pleasantly as he tears down one after another and another and another... The blood spatters all over him, and he keeps laughing. He's clearly having fun. The bodies keep hitting the water with a splash.

While the patterns of Christopher's movements seem very random, he is most quick to take out anyone who seems to be directing their magic towards Rin's direction to hit him. He keeps away from the line between the cultists and Rin to avoid letting Rin get caught in the crossfire, and the loud, attention-drawing violence serves to focus the cultists towards Christopher, minimizing the amount of freely aimed attacks that might hurt Rin.]

[sharkastic]

What? I didn't--

[The flash of blades is hard to miss, even in the darkness; the sight also quite neatly clamps Rin's snappish mouth shut. Before he can even begin to react to that, his companion has already vanished.

He doesn't need to turn his head to know where the increase in wet, disturbing sounds and bodies colliding is coming from, but he does anyway. It's perhaps a good thing it's dark enough not to be able to see exactly how much blood is being spilt or exactly how wide Christopher's grin is -- the laughter is enough.

So he can probably cross 'mad axe murderer acquaintance' off somebody's bucket list, because it definitely wasn't on his.

For a little while, Rin does exactly as he's told -- or rather, he does it incidentally, since he's pretty much frozen in place. It's not as though he didn't notice how lethal the fighting had been before; but there's decidedly some difference between anonymous jets of light and the actual slick slide of blades through flesh.

At some point, he's changed his mind. He's pretty ready for this to be a dream now.

Almost without his consciously willing it, at some point he also starts to move away along the wall -- it's not really any kind of proper escape, because he's actually heading deeper into the tunnels rather than towards the proper exits. Mostly, he just wants some more distance between himself and carnage.]

[inhumanity]

[Moving targets can be so hard to protect. Christopher only half-turns towards Rin to throw a blade—one that embeds itself in the stone walls, right in front of him.]

Wrong direction! [Christopher calls over his shoulder, before kicking up water to distract one of his attackers and sidestepping them to go in for the kill.] The exits are the other way!

[Christopher ducks behind a body that, taking the hit meant for him, bursts into flame.]

[sharkastic]

[Rin flinches bodily, and a bit belatedly -- he's reacting more to the sound of the blade than the sight of it. It actually takes him a moment to figure out where it is, instinctively frozen in place as long as the threat isn't visible.]

I know that.

[He doesn't realize he's talking until he hears the words come out of his own mouth, voice so strained he barely recognizes it. Christopher probably can't even hear it.

It makes Rin grit his teeth and close his eyes. Talking to himself isn't going to get him anywhere. Neither is freezing every few steps like a rabbit, no matter how real everything feels. His eyes still closed, he tests his footing. Everything is a little shakier than he'd like, but if there's one thing Matsuoka Rin could do in his sleep, it's run.

The moment he opens his eyes, he pushes off his heels. He keeps his head ducked low and shoulders bunched and bolts for the nearest opening without looking back.]

[inhumanity]

[Christopher, true to his word, ensures that Rin makes it out successfully. He slaughters anyone who might even have a chance of hurting Rin.

And he lets Rin go. He has a face, and a distinct one. He has more than enough contacts in the city. If Christopher wants to find Rin again, he will. And he does intend on finding Rin.

Later. When there is less fun killing to be done.]