The Fourth Musketeer | Job | Zoe and Emilia

For a slight second, Zoe’s eyes widened as she witnessed Emilia clutch the mace bringing it exceedingly closer to one of the dark mages in fear that the red-head would actually follow through with injuring their foe quite severely. As she was about to open her lips in an attempt to warn Emilia not to engage in any severe actions that could have a risk of spilling blood, another thought popped into her mind which made the light-blonde haired female internally facepalm herself. Emilia was merely trying to threaten their enemy in order to extract information; Zoe had to admit she was quite rightfully fooled believing that her partner would actually harm the man. However, knowing Emilia, that question still lingered in the air. But for now, Zoe knew that she would not engage in anything extreme.

The interrogation carried on with the blonde merely observing and a light smirk crawled onto her features at the potent demeanor of terror that her fellow Sabertooth mage portrayed. The cogent appearance made the words of the location of Mr. Townsend sprout out of the dark mage’s mouth successfully, accomplishing this small segment of their mission.

A slight grimace accompanied Zoe’s features as the red-head knocked out the dark mage after he gave them their required address however, she assumed it was necessary to do so; he could try to yell for help after the two had left alerting his comrades of their presence. On the bright side, at least, her partner had not impaled him with a mace; that would indeed, be quite a grotesque sight, one with Zoe could not fathom comprehending. At Emilia’s indication of moving along and her reference to Zoe taking point, a light chuckle left the blonde haired girl’s lips as Emilia kicked the chair and opened the door for Zoe.

“Yup, let’s get going. And let’s also see if we can stumble upon those three musketeers. I wonder how they’re doing and where they are. And whether they found Mr. Townsend before us. Well, let’s get going, shall we?” With that being said as her mind recollected the directions the dark mage had given them, Zoe’s legs started moving along towards the end of the hall after which she took a right; her eyes glancing around moment following moment, discerning any indication of an enemy. The less they encountered, the faster they would get to Mr. Townsend and the quicker this mission would be over.  

❚ WORDS 409 - ❚ TAGS @Leirynot - ❚ NOTES Bloop.

The two Sabertooth mages had quietly walked on forth; finding their directions within the maze of a house towards their destination – the room in which the victim, the one that they had come here to save would. Like Emilia, Zoe had also picked up upon the floods of battle cries signifying a war waging on and it was no mystery that the clatter of sounds had erupted from the three musketeers who were probably engaged in combat with other dark mages. How contradicting the actions of the mages and musketeers were; on one hand, the two mages were still and quiet whilst they rushed towards their destination whilst the musketeers were an invitation for battle. Beneficially, those three could hold off the dark mages amid all the pandemonium, whilst Zoe and Emilia would rescue Mr. Townsend.

Upon hearing Emilia’s question once they arrived at the door behind which lay the victim as well as the master of the game, the light-blonde’s sapphire hues became slightly clouded as her mind drifted off into the confines of her thoughts; processing as to how they could enter the area. It was then that thundering footsteps echoed through the hallway signifying a mass magnitude of the arrival of dark mages. Zoe could sense their power; it was in waves which meant that a rush of dark mages were heading their way. Probably, towards the area of the musketeers who seemed to have drawn attention upon themselves.

Instinctively, the light-blonde shoved Emilia and herself into one of the other rooms and placed a finger upon her lips signifying the red-head to not utter a single noise as the footsteps plundered outside the room they were confined within. As they faded away, the noises dimmed down to quite an extent which led Zoe to slightly open the door; her blue orb looking outside to witness any other oncoming foes. Surprisingly, to their luck, none had approached after the onslaught of the flood of dark mages. An audible sigh escaped the young female as she looked at her partner, still contemplating as to what method to use to get inside the room. Clearly, barging in by hammering the door would not be such a clever idea. After all, who knew what lay beyond? Hence, the duo would have to apply a more stealthy approach. As she glanced through the slight gap in the door once again, an idea popped into Zoe’s mind. She clicked her fingers, excitement radiating from it and turned to Emilia.

“I have an idea. I’ll carry you and we’ll fly outside from one of the windows of the hallway. I noticed that every room in this building has a window which means that room must have one as well and so we look through that window to see what foes we’ll be facing and according to that, we decide whether to go head on or develop a strategy. What’d you say?”

❚ WORDS 488 - ❚ TAGS @Leirynot - ❚ NOTES Crappy post because tired >.<"

Circular in its form, Zoe’s lips released a hush of breath followed by a slight whisper of ‘ahhh’ resonating through the eerily, quiet and densely dark room. A vicious nod of her head as the words spewed out from the lips of her red-haired partner signifying her agreement for the plan formulated by the female. A brusque parting of her lips followed with a hushed voice as the light-blonde haired young mage spoke. “That sounds cool to me. It’s a way better plan than mine though, I could carry you, I think. Or maybe. I don’t really know but yeah, your plan it is. Roger, that, boss!” A shrug at the aspect of the unknown amount of weight the blonde could carry whilst airborne followed abruptly with a salute coupled with a cheeky grin; initializing the start of their plan and the finale of their mission.

A slight crack upon the fixture of the door emitted a soft ‘creek’ reverberating across the still and woefully quiet hallway as a cerulean orb peeked from within. An usher of her hand indicated the atmosphere as devoid of any magical presence except that emitting from the room before. Stepping out, Zoe waved her hand to Emilia abruptly, followed with a thumb in the air signifying a thumbs up as she proceeded to lay her hands upon the heavily glazed windows of the mansion, slowly ascending them above; her lips encased within a line, hoping desperately to not usher forth any sound. The window opened, finally; not a mere crack within its visage, not a mere sound emitted from its ascend. And with another glance to the red-haired female, the light-blonde took off; the pressure upon her feet giving her access into the skies above as she soared; her hues gliding above the windows; the precision of an eagle lay within the eyes of the blonde for a scrunch in them coupled with inflates of concentration allowed her to lightly peek within the windows; sensing for any sign of movement.

Despite the radiance of magical energy emitted from the room, a look were to be given as well to determine the certainty of their target being present within. And as Zoe floated outside the premises of the room; her form hovering near the window, her adept gaze allowed her to sweep across the individuals within the room; her hues identifying Mr. Townsend. The grey-haired lay battered and bruised upon a chair; his body tied to it, gushes of dried blood oozing upon his body as his eyes remained lifeless; misery stricken upon his visage. Accumulating around him, a hoard of mages stood; some discussing with others, some laughing whilst some stood still. However, the one with the most radiance of magic energy stood in the middle; flocks of dark mages around him as Zoe’s eyes zeroed in on him.

And now she stood; awaiting for when the door would crash and the two Sabertooth mages would begin their final fight.

❚ WORDS 496 - ❚ TAGS @Leirynot - ❚ NOTES Crappy post because tired >.<"

Hues of cerulean transfixed upon the magnitude of people that lined the room; however, only one of the lot stood out. Despite the barrier of a laminated window, the light-blonde haired female could, still, sense the power wafting through. Arrays of magical energy concerning, the volume of dark mages present engulfed the room within a sense of malevolency however, Zoe’s meticulous precision pinpointed the one to be targeted. Right within the center of the room, he stood. Auburn hair neatly, gelled backward; dark orbs nefariously, scrutinizing the army centered on him as mirth lay vividly upon his visage; a contentedly callous smirk apparent. The provenance of this amusement lay in the form of a man. Albeit, unlike the other one, this one was to put it lightly, in a state of distress. However, the streaks of crimson that outlined his countenance, which were, mirrored upon the shredded attire he wore, coupled with the façade of affliction left no doubt as to the identity of the miserable man. It’s Mr. Townsend.

A skip in her heart and a gasp from her lips upon the vexed state of the man concurred a scowl upon her rosy lips; the female’s visage altering to an acrimonious one as despite, her whitened knuckles emanating her rage, she waited; patiently. After all, patience was a virtue. However, the light tilt of her lips upwards, curling upon one corner as the clamor reigned upon the, otherwise, discreetly quite room; the female knew that it was time. Slithering orbs glazing through the crystalline window as cries of anguish thundered upon the walls; the genesis of the cries caused by one only; Emilia, Zoe’s partner for this venturesome mission.

A chuckle at the pandemonium caused by the fiery red-head as plundering of dark mages occupied the spacious room made the light-blonde highly impressed with the ferocity, which the other Sabertooth mage, based herself upon. It was at this moment, that three words echoed from the rosiness of Zoe’s lips; a message clear and concise; a perception of ensuring a finality laden upon her tone. “Well, let’s do this.” The final battle then, begun as the female hovered backwards only to emit an uproar from her throat; the contralto of her usual tone fluctuating to an emphatic level; as the glistering glass, upon which the basis of the window lay shattered, upon the wake of the wind mage who plunged herself into the room. Not wasting a moment, arms stretched onwards; parallel as the rancorousness upon her countenance, conveyed promises of ounces of agony for the dark mages.

Agile, as she swept across the room; her legs and arms successfully, landing resounding blows upon the foes belching an array of cries of affliction. With each howl of agony, the satisfaction upon the female’s face rose as she finally, approached the one whom was the intended target. His miserable state was depicted from the heap that he was cowered in as whimpers of torment elicited from his lips; the previous aura of cavalier now, diminished into a set of feebleness. Even Zoe’s own lithe frame lay potent in front of his. Per contra, the beating he suffered from the other Sabertooth mage may have provoked another side of the leader; one based upon insanity rather, than rationality as he looked up, malignance flaring wildly within his orbs and a turbulence of a lunatic roar as he charged towards the light-blonde haired wind mage.

Zoe, still afloat, moved swiftly backwards, dodging the blows he deemed to land upon her. However, luck betrayed her at one point when, a vase, unexpectedly, crashed upon her head stimulating a groan as her hand flew over to her head; the golden of her hair and ivory of her forehead now, stained with a crimson specter. Head gonging, disabling her control of herself, momentarily, as her mind plagued itself with pain. But this only enticed a stronger reaction from the female as her hands, abruptly lined themselves before her despite, the stupendous dolor; a scowl etched upon her features; her lips hovering with the words.

“Tempestuous Wind!”

A flurry of wind encircled the pioneer of the dark mages in the form of a savagely turbulent tornado as groans reverberated through him; the agile accuracy and lethality of the blades present within the tornado evoking immense pain to not only the leader but, also, the disciples that were violently, pulled through the pulsation of the tornado. It would be soon now, that these monsters would be dealt with, for fatigue was creeping up Zoe’s spine as her tiresome, sapphire hues landed upon her red-head partner. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

❚ WORDS 774 - ❚ TAGS @Leirynot - ❚ NOTES Sorry for the late post! >.<"

Zoe could feel Emilia’s attempt to help her; instinctively, it arose a ghost of a smile which lingered upon the lips of the light blonde knowing that the redhead had her back. Yet, despite the silver of happiness, her head sounded an alarm; the impact of the vase cascading upon her head had left it in a mangled mess with streaks of crimson running down the side of her face. However, the pain had to be endured; for a mere moment longer. The boss of the dark mages still lay entrapped within the riot of the tornado, his screams floating through the air creating a semblance of danger. Despite the obvious predicament he was placed within, the teleportation wizard yet, endeavored to emerge victorious in the relatively, one sided battle. As he arose his hand, a squint in the Sabertooth mage’s cerulean optics ensued. Immediately, her hand arose ricocheting the disastrous effect of the tornado; exemplifying its raw and sheer power. Just a bit more.

Albeit, it appeared as though the mere power of the tornado would not be enough to take this fiend down. As fatigue coursed through her entire body, the spell weakened slightly; beads of sweat trickled down her face yet, the underlying conviction of victory fueled the adrenaline within her. Despite the tiredness, her own symphony of saving the innocent reigned supreme. Which initialized a chain reaction within her. The reaction being utterance of three more words. “Dancing Wind Strike!” In a flurry, the clutches of wind accumulated yet again. This time however, to not form a tornado but rather, tendrils. The arrays of wind swiveled into a multitude of tendrils; the fluctuation within them screaming chaotic. Wind may be a serene source of tranquility but, at this very moment, it was the epitome of destruction. Destruction of the man before her. The tendrils hurtled forth aiming to strike the man where he stood. They enveloped around the tornado, slithering within it as, strikes of agile yet, sharp edged wind struck with lethality like no other. This was a merciless display from the young female; she would give him no time to retaliate. None at all.

As his unyielding screams of agony fluttered through the area of the hall, it arose frightened eyes in his direction. The eyes of his followers that Emilia was handling. It was at this point that Zoe was grateful for the presence of the anarchic redhead for she enveloped the attention of the others. Arms were beginning to weaken, the pull of gravity wanting to take its toll on Zoe. Her energy was being sapped away at a quick pace as, this much utilization of magical energy in one go was proving to be a deadly toxicity.

But, it was at that moment that roars emerged from outside the hall. Roars which travelled within and a mere moment later, three presences made themselves known. The Musketeers. They volleyed themselves through the enemies; gun and sword magic swishing through the crowd tantalizing an outbreak of blood. Yet, their main aim lay not the men even though, they fought the dark wizards; but their subject of anger was the ringleader. As the battle with the dark mages slowly began to die down; the resultant of Emilia’s sheer fighting with a tad bit help from the Musketeers; the three women – Atma, Atha and Portha – approached the ringleader who lay battered and bruised by the repercussion of the wind attacks. A signal from them to Zoe to release him was gratefully obliged by the young blonde as, she let her arms down, dissipating the attacks and slowly, descended landing on the ground. Her knees wobbled lightly but, despite that, she still stood and made her way towards Emilia, shooting a small smile.

“I suppose it’s over now. The musketeers can handle the rest.”

❚ WORDS 638 - ❚ TAGS @Emilia Crohil - ❚ NOTES And we're done!