Mortal Kombat - MK: Bolivar vs Alexis in "Kursed"

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Description: Quan Chi has enlisted BOLIVAR as one of countless willing servants to send the forces of Earthrealm into further confusion. But while he has been marshalling forces, Shang Tsung has been raising pawns of his own -- particularly ALEXIS -- to sing a siren song of a discordant rhythm. Two armies clash in a war of attrition -- any soldier felled by one side can potentially aid the other! Senseless deaths. If only there was a wise sage who could heal the forest. Someone who could bring much-needed clarity to the situation. Someone who has walked on both sides of the Veil. Someone like... RUST? Wait, no, that's supposed to be FREI, right?



[BOLIVAR]
A man walks through the Wastes, his eyes glowing orange as the fires of the Nethers blaze inside them, trapped inside the shade that once was Bolivar Montiero Diez. Wearing a pair of khaki pants and black boots, and nothing else, his lean, whipcord form, inked with prison tattoos of barbed wire and roses and angels, is cloaked in dimness that fades about him. The darkness appears to emerge from around him, softening him, but if one looks just properly, one can see it emerging from his surroundings.

He walks from the tower, slowly approaching the Living Forest, seeking Shang Tsung's palace beyond it. And behind him walk the damned, the souls he has defeated in Netherrealm, fighting by becoming them and conquering him, the reason why he is such a deadly Nether soldier. It is the reason why Quan Chi has summoned him, to offer him life again, so he may understand the riddle of his damnation. There is a block in his mind, something he can not remove, to see why his fate is thus. The rising, tepid waters of the surrounding sea lick at his ankles, as he slowly trundles forward, his hands balling open and closed, a whisper coming from the waves as he walks.

Bolivar stops, and the damned following him slowly spread out into a line, a pair of diagonal cuts through the island on either side of Bolivar, with him as the point. He raises his head above the forest, to the palace beyond it, the sun at his side causing the water at his feet to shimmer beneath his deadly ghastliness.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Bolivar          0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: Bolivar equips a luminous Flaming Yellow Soul Shard.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Bolivar [E]      0/-------/-------|


[ALEXIS]
==*== EARLIER ==*==

The tower shuddered as the earth cracked beneath its foundation, a thunderous peal echoing throughout as it lurched, nearly crashing into the island's surface. As the thunder faded, the sound was replaced by the crash and patter of debris spilling from the sundered structure through its many open windows to the ground below.

Amongst the debris, in the Kombat Tomb on the tower's middle level, the rotting corpse of a young woman was wrenched free of the spikes that had kept it for some time pinned gruesomely to the ceiling. The body rolled as the tower leaned, tumbling over another older cadaver loosed by the violence before both crashed into the balcony. The collision saw the elder corpse roll over the younger and disappear into the dust rising from the island in the moments before it began to sink. The tomb fell silent...

...save for a dull, bass tone that filled the void, causing more dust to spill from the ceiling.

Then another came, rattling the crushed masonry in the cracks on the floor.

A third note shook the tomb, and the corpse twitched against the balcony.

For a lingering moment, the chamber went silent again.

Then, suddenly, a horrific shriek tore through the tilted tower, accompanied by the same bass note, louder than before. Almost as quickly, the throbbing ceased, the shriek choking back to a rattling gasp.

==*== PRESENT ==*==

From behind the line of Quan Chi's revenants come the sound of plodding footsteps in the water. Turning to see the source of the noise reveals the form of a young woman, face obscured by unkempt brown hair, body broken and lurching like the island beneath her feet. Her body shudders with each audible breath. Her clothing would appear to identify her as one of the female ninja of Outworld, though her otherwise black garment is mottled by blood and other fluids in varying stages of decay.

"Princess," one of the damned souls speaks, raising a finger to point at the young woman.

"Bodyguard," one of the others corrects the first. As the attentions of the others turn to the woman, there's a momentary pause.

"No. Just some girl," one of them decides after deliberation as the pallid brunette draws in a deep breath.

Suddenly, a number of the figures are blown over as the living dead girl lets out a banshee-like scream, lasting for several seconds before she's left shuddering as she pants for air.

"Q-queen?" one of the revenants wonders in a daze from the ground.

COMBATSYS: Alexis has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Alexis           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar


COMBATSYS: Alexis equips a glowing Scarlet Soul Shard.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar


[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar's chin tips downwards as his lips curl inwards and down, forming a stern frown as his hands clench into fists at the sight of the soul sorceror. He looks to his side, askance at the damned. "Marionette." He stands in place, despite the fact that the souls of the dead around him are in disarray at her banshee scream. He bares his teeth, not cowed by the banshee scream.

Bolivar extends his right forefinger, his hand in a fist, before he curls his finger inwards and extends his thumb, pointing towards his chest, indicating a blade to the heart. A sign of a Roman emperor, that has announced the death of a gladiator.

Bolivar's right foot slides backwards as he drops his arm, loose, before he snaps into a run at Alexis, his eyes glowing bright hot yellow as his arms pump at his sides. His teeth are bared and clenched still, as he pumps his body across the water, the shimmering, dirty water splashing at his feet in a linear, messy trail of muddy fluid that produces splashing sounds as he seeks to close the distance between himself and Alexis. He stares directly in her eyes with those hellion orbs inside his skull, the flaming light visible in his veins as he nears Alexis, the Nether powers inside him sensing Alexis's allegiance to Shang Tsung.

[ALEXIS]
For a moment it seems as though the pallid banshee has no intention of reacting to the Latino revenant's charge but to stand her ground. As he nears, though, the woman's head snaps up, as if seeing the aggressor for the first time, though her eyes are still obscured by her own tangled bangs. The motion sweeps her hair away from her throat, though, revealing the black choker still wrapped around her pale neck and the red gem that glows in its setting. The sound of distant howling can be heard as the jewel comes into view, faded but still present. The woman's body pivots, left hand cocking back as the same howling sound builds around her clenched fist. Then, simply and straightforwardly, she uses the force of her entire body to throw her fist forward, attempting to drill a haymaker punch into Bolivar's chest that would unleash a blaring howl as weaponized sound into the point of impact.

[FREI]
For a very long time, he had been staying far away from everyone. In a cave by the seashore, well-hidden from everyone and everything. Meditating... or something of the sort. After their encounter, he had little doubt that Honoka -- "the Dahlia" -- would do what needed to be done, in terms of the battle with Outworld, anyway. Newly-found life aside, the actual battle of Mortal Kombat, on both a literal and metaphorical level, was for others to face and conquer.

Frei had a different purpose.

Shang Tsung's island is a scar on the world. Nothing about it is natural; perhaps, once, it was like any unremarkable south Pacific island, untouched by man... and shades, fragments of its original beauty live on in some places. But now, it's a metaphor for Mortal Kombat itself. Outworld literally encroaches upon it like a shard of glass sticking out of a bleeding palm. The interdimensional border's fractures warp the world, distorting it, twisting it. And with each successive loss, each Mortal Kombat, the shard went in deeper. Drawing fresh blood, scarring to the very core, the very *root* of it. Eventually, discerning where the original island stopped and Outworld started was effectively impossible.

Right up to the point that Outworld's influence was rejected. And now, with the shard of glass that was the only thing sealing the wound shut gone, the world bleeds; its lifeblood are crashing seas, looking to reclaim what was once theirs, pulling it under in a catastrophic and defiant final reclamation.

For someone attuned to the world in the way Frei is, it was... noticable.

But the corrupting influence of Outworld... it's not so easy to wipe away centuries of that taint. Saving the island is out of the question. But perhaps Frei can make sure that what sinks to the bottom of the sea, is still part of Earth's natural cycle: nothing that invaded, no corrupting darkness. Merely the peaceful stillness of a kind of oblivion, deep beneath the waves.

This is why he is here, walking toward the clashing of revenants with surprising solemnity. At base, his clothes have barely changed; he still wears the black half-length changshan over jeans. But above it, he wears a cloak taken from one of Shang Tsung's disciples. Hooded, sweeping to mid-calf, fastened closed over the torso, a rich hunter green color that somehow gradients cleanly to a dark, tree bark brown at the hem. The hood obscures his face as he approaches, apparently looking at neither side.

With a sloshing sound, he comes to a stop *exactly between the Kombatants* and their respective hordes. Pulling back the hood, he looks up at the sky, then the ground, shaking out a short but messy head of dark red hair.

"I guess... this is the spot," he murmurs, before finally seeming to notice where he IS. "Aaaaaaaand of course, this is going to get complicated. Why wouldn't it."

He brings his hands up, making smooth, spiralling patterns with his arms and hands, but as yet, does nothing to interfere.

COMBATSYS: Frei has joined the fight here in the center.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei             0|-------|-------


COMBATSYS: Frei equips a dim Cyan Soul Shard.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|-------


COMBATSYS: Bolivar dodges Alexis' Strong Punch.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|-------


[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar shifts his right foot forward at the pivot of Alexis' pivot and the backward movement of her left fist, matching her pivot as if he was her mirror. He skids to a halt in the muck, sliding with a slight downward push to his pelvis to accomodate the sludge beneath his feet, and swings his right arm around as he turns his right side forward in response to the haymaker at his chest. The howl causes his shadow-aura to ripple as his arm comes down and deflects Alexis' arm, pushing it aside so her knuckles graze past his ribs and along his lean pectorals, scraping past and extending her out to his side.

"Puta."

His left arm comes sailing down, and instead of rearranging his body to aid his defense, he takes advantage of the momentary opening by driving the wedge of his left hand down at Alexis' neck from the side, with a rapid hand chop along the edge of his extended hand. He keeps his right arm along his side, in case he needs to counter a further movement from Alexis.

The revenants slowly get back to their feet after the banshee howl, lurking back upwards from the rising waters, taking notice of Frei. They watch him with baleful yellow gazes, their skeletal black shapes slowly trundling forward at him.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar successfully hits Alexis with Ruby Carnation.
- Power hit! -

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|-------


[ALEXIS]
As her momentum carries her forward, a strip of soiled cloth starts to unravel from around the gloved palm of her extended fist, fluttering slightly in the displaced air created by the attack. In the moment that her punch flies past Bolivar, her head turns slightly in the direction of the hooded new arrival on the scene.

<Ignore him. Destroy the revenants.>

A growl of frustration rises from the girl, only to be cut short as Bolivar's hand smashes into the crook of her neck, driving her down to her knees in the muddy seawater. Her cracked nails dig into the soil for purchase as she pushes herself up, her entire body trembling.

"Bastard," she gasps out behind a curtain of hair. She pulls her left hand up from the muck first, appearing to examine a handful of tainted soil wrested from beneath the water's surface thoughtfully. Then, with abrupt ferocity, she clenches her hand into a ball before swinging it in a backfist attack at a slight upward trajectory - aimed to strike Bolivar between the legs in a spray of mud as the sonic energy that was building while her hand was hidden under the mud is released.

[FREI]
For the moment, the undead hordes are what fill Frei's view... in more ways than one. In terms of the flow of life through them, it's... minimal. Not enough to be an actual *person*; just enough to animate the body, give it the semblence of movement. Without the presence of Alexis and Bolivar -- who Frei finally notices -- they would likely be little more than animals, driven mad by their pitiable state. As it is, it's almost as if the strong spiritual energy the two Kombatants are putting out actually *give* the hordes a sort of will. Ragged, angry extensions of the fighters' bodies.

They're also full of the Outworld taint, which gets Frei's attention, after all. Though for a moment, his green eyes flicker to Bolivar, looking not so much 'at' him as 'through' him. Hmmm. Hmmmmmm.

But then Bolivar's zombies are headed his way, and there's no more time for academic consideration.

His arms are still moving in gentle, looping spirals, almost as if he's shaping something out of the air. This becomes a rather more literal situation as the zombies close, and as one gets too close, Frei ducks low in a spinning motion, arms still spiralling. The water, which continues to slowly rise, suddenly lashes out with the motions of his hands, formed into a sturdy whip-like tendril. Rather unceremoniously, but seemingly without effort, he directs said water whip at the zombie, attempting to snap it up and then, with a flick of the wrist, send it careening into its brethren.

"Yep," he says, breathily, teeth gritted. "Definitely going to be complicated."

COMBATSYS: Bolivar blocks Alexis' Hitting the High Note.

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|-------


[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar stands above Alexis, triumphant as she drops to the ground, staring down at her from his vantage above.

"You are going to come with me," he hisses, before the explosion of mud blasts out, with Alexis fist behind it shooting between his legs. He shoves his right arm down, catching the back of the fist in his hand, pushed upwards off his feet and backwards. He lands, splattered with grime, and slowly reaches to the side, shaking off his wrist and arm from the tension they absorbed from Alexis' blow.

Diez turns his gaze from Alexis to Frei, frowning as he notes the display of water bending that sends his revenant army into disarray. He could honestly care less about the revenants from a tactical perspective, being trained as a solitary assassin and operative. The revenants scatter temporarily, watching Frei and climbing back to their feet after being so cruelly tossed about, standing about the muck, swaying faintly and watching him.

"You have not chosen a side," Bolivar notes. "You must choose a master, or you will not be able to choose God," he warns.

And then, Bolivar comes charging back in at Alexis, his left hand lashing out at her shoulder to grab her and pull her against him, before he shoves his right knee upwards, at her stomach, to keel her forward. His body ceases the charge at the follow-through of the knee, standing there rigidly, as if a statue that has just come to life, and then gone dead once more.

COMBATSYS: Alexis endures Bolivar's Junkyard Knee.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Alexis [E]       1/------=/=======|===----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|-------


[ALEXIS]
Alexis' arm trembles as her hand collides with Bolivar's, a sudden whimper escaping her lips. Her left arm pulls back against her middle, the hand cradled against her discolored clothing as it twitches. She pulls herself up to her feet quickly to compensate for her faltering guard, water sloshing off of her knees as her boots squelch in the mud. She hesitates as Bolivar speaks, holding back from going on the offensive again.

<What do you think you're waiting for?>

Alexis' teeth clench visibly as Bolivar charges in again, her body going rigid as if uncertainty - perhaps fear - has taken hold of her. There is no contest as Bolivar grabs hold of her and the knee comes up to drive the air from her lungs once more, causing her to double over, arms reaching out as if to try and catch hold of her attacker to keep herself from falling.

Her intent is not so benign, however; should she manage to latch onto Bolivar's sides as she aims to, she'll attempt to follow up by ramming her head into Bolivar's ribcage, then turn herself around and snake an arm around his neck before throwing her legs out and dropping to the water in an effort to crush Bolivar's jaw against her shoulder. Either impact would be accompanied by a burst of discordant noise, sending foot-high ripples through the seawater beneath them.

[RUST]
The gloom is overpowering. Drowning hopes and life within an island now condemned to oblivion and obscurity, the chaos is all-encompassing and impossible to truly observe and chronicle to the finest detail as urgency and panic are the forefront of anyone's minds - at least, among those who still retain full faculties of said minds.
Frei, however, perceptive as he is to the pulse of the world and the elements, might take notice of one out-of-place noise to the guttural songs of unnatural life attempting to assert dominance.
The sound of movement in the water, the ripples that echo throughout the surface as the little stories and songs of those who choose to breach the world of air above, to the world of water below. There are many bodies moving about the rising water.
The way most in sight shamble, the rhythm of these water disturbances are jarring. Abhorrent in motion as much as they are sight, sound, and stench. Sloshing, dragging.
But yet, there is a steady rhythm of movement, of feet that move with life, purpose... an unbroken pattern.
Someone else is here. If Frei thinks to look behind him, he might not see it, as it simply ceases to be. Maybe it's a bouncing stone that fell off a crumbling ruin, skipping about the water for one last joy-ride before it joins the rest of its surroundings underwater for eternity.
There are harsher splashes. These are heavier things now violating the surface of the water - falling bodies. Streaks of red and orange fall from eye level to below. Could they be tripping? Like someone was tying shoelaces? On revenants. Tying revenant shoelaces... that would be completely ridiculous. This is no time for such childish pranks
...That appears to be exactly what is happening.
A larger shadow pushes up from the water, eyes missing these unnatural hues, as they once again head off into obscurity around the foul miasma of this watery battlefield.
But they do not /leave/.

[FREI]
It's not entirely clear if Bolivar was speaking to him, or the Canadian princess of rock (rock is eternal and now apparently so is Zombie Alexis, Live at the Literal Freakin' Apocalypse). Either way, the red-haired figure, arms still swirling in slow spirals, water now dancing around him in a lazy helix, listens carefully. Masters? God? "Pretty sure putting too much stock in gods is what got us here in the first place," he mutters, reflecting on what few details Nakoruru and Honoka imparted to him. On the other hand, it looks like he and the zombie hordes are in a standoff situation; they don't come closer, but it's difficult for Frei to focus if he has to wa--

Then Keystone Cops happens.

To his credit, Frei's hand motions aren't disturbed, though one eyebrow does go up. No, he doesn't see anything, other than hapless former cannon fodder Kombatants hitting the rapidly-drowning ground with erratic splashes. But he does... feel a presence. A familiar presence. And let's be real, something *really stupid* is happening right now.

Across the freckled face, a faint smile emerges. "Some things never change," he says quietly.

With one last, pinwheeling spiral of his arms, Frei stops those movements. The water he had been gathering swirls into a flowing ring, an aqueous ouroburos turning forever. A simple trick, really; shaped enough, given enough momentum, only a bit of concentration is required to keep it going, leaving him free to continue on with his plans.

He makes two movements, both amazingly sharp, sudden, powerful; rather unlike the graceful spirals he had been doing. First his arms, which had been at his sides, are raised skyward, palms upward... then, flipping his hands over and bringing them together above his torso, he slams them *down* toward the ground, stopping at waist height.

With a loud splash, stones erupt from the ground in a ring, as if hammered out of the earth itself, spinning like an asteroid belt around Frei's waist.

"Okay," he says, mostly to himself, trying to keep his focus intact. This is harder than it looks. "Everything is everything else. Anything can BE anything else. Water is stone. Ice is flame. All are one."

Hands still pressed downward, he exhales a slow breath.

COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Alexis [E]       1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|---====


COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the fortress of the steel will.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Alexis [E]       1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|---====


COMBATSYS: Bolivar endures Alexis' Shoulder to Cry On EX.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Alexis [E]       1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|---====


[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar locks his arms down around Alexis as she grabs his sides, is body taking the consistency of pyrex as his veins glow bright yellow, a fiery nimbus around him as he slides backwards while his ribs are depressed. And then, he's swung around to the ground, his jaw slamming into Alexis' shoulder. The discordance hums around him, as he keeps his hold on Alexis, hands sliding into place at the base of her ribcage, beneath her bosom, as he attempts to lift her upwards with him, rising to his knees and then his head, holding her from behind as tries to pull her out of the water with him. His jaw is clenched shut, as throbbing head causes his eyes to glow, and he emits a pain wracked cry as he then moves to, if he's still holding her, throw her onto her side while holding her shoulder, and wrench her arm about with a fast twist, his boot beneath her shoulder, edge of his sole in her armpit. And otherwise, should she slip free, he merely stands, unaware of Frei and his dying minions with his tight focus temporarily on Alexis, given how the pair of them are hurting each other.

The revenants look about, shivering and moaning to each other, hissing and chattering and growling, unable to find just who is assassinating them, one by one.

COMBATSYS: Alexis Toughs Out Bolivar's Strong Throw!

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Alexis [E]       1/--=====/=======|=======\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         0|-------|---====


[ALEXIS]
With both sides unwilling to relent in their aggression in favour of defending themselves, Alexis is once again on the receiving end, slung brutally to the flooded ground with her arm wrenched back as Bolivar presses his boot into her side. Unseen, her right eye shuts tightly as saltwater floods the socket, her teeth clenching to cage a growl interrupted by coughing and sputtering as her ribs are crushed and her left arm hyperextended, denying any opportunity to protect the old wound piercing her hand as the seawater burns in it.

<What a useless puppet, about to have its strings snapped once more.>

Alexis pulls her head up from the water, her hair dripping wet as she inhales deeply through her nostrils. Then, with another growl, she pulls forcefully back with her left arm, ignoring the pain as the limb threatens to tear loose from its socket. In the same motion she kicks out with her left boot at the foot that Bolivar is standing on in an attempt to throw him off-balance with a reverberating blow as she pulls herself free. Forcing herself back up to her feet if successful, she'll attempt to capitalize by grabbing Bolivar's head and shoving it down between her thighs with her right hand while he's off-kilter; if that works, she'll then proceed to try and grab a handful of Bolivar's jeans for leverage before throwing her legs out and letting gravity take over, intending to use her weight to drive Bolivar's face into the sea-soaked ground with a sonic shockwave that would likely blast away dirt and water alike around them.

[RUST]
A decorative pillar, not too far from here, wobbles after the sound of something heavy hitting stone. The pillar itself does not seem certain as to which way to allow gravity to manipulate it.
The same shadow without the eyes flashes into the corner of the eyes of some. It moves, frantically, attempting to guide it down the way they desire while dealing with such challenges of physics like 'leverage' and, presumably, 'being someone of meat and bone with only so much physical strength to spare.'
It falls over before a number of other zombies with a deafening 'splash' that sprays water every which way. The angling is not ideal - if it were tipped too much further to the left, it might have hit Frei proper.
It starts to roll off, threatening to bowl over a few more revenants as the current topography of the sinking island creates the perfect slope to allow for this - potentially bolstered by the shockwaves of Alexis' power, even.
A paradox, in which this helps give Frei space to focus... and also hinders it, as he concentrates the energies of the world into one common denominator. Humorous circumstances being as they are, risking putting the sage into a laughing fit may not be of much help to anyone's current goals.
The net effect of these interferences should nonetheless be positive to this final pitched effort, as the original shape behind the collapsed pillar once again moves into obscurity.

[FREI]
Well, at the very least, if the invisible distraction ruins Frei's concentration, it's not as if things here could get any *worse*, right? The whole place is going to hell anyway. And in truth, it's hard to tell if he even notices; his eyes are closed, a seemingly suicidally stupid gesture considering, so he definitely doesn't *see* what's going on in a literal sense. But as his current disposition may suggest, there are more senses in heaven and earth than five.

After what seems like a wait so long that holding the pose must be difficult, Frei stops pushing against some invisible ground at waist height, crossing his arms briefly and then bringing them together at his chest, fingertips lightly touching, making a narrow steeple. The orbiting circle of stones snakes slowly into position, creating an interweaving pattern with the watter. Now there's two balls in the air, and if the pattern holds, the third is coming soon.

He opens his eyes, taking in the rather brutal and borderline animalistic grappling of Alexis and Bolivar, briefly licking his lips, trying not to let his mind wander too far. Unlike the revenants, in his mind, they can be saved. But how? And more importantly: how to do that BEFORE they tear each other apart? The answer has to be to work quickly, one would imagine. He takes a slow breath that makes his chest visibly rise and fall, exhaling slowly.

'Everything is everything else'. That's what he learned. For a while, he was a soul with no body; just memories. But memories mean consciousness, and consciousness means life. Then suddenly he had a body, and it was an epiphany of epic scope. Unlike the people of this tournament, Frei never *had* a body; he merely shared one. And yet, here he is.

Ice cold enough burns like fire. Wind powerful enough has the solidity of earth. Everything is everything else. So maybe the body is the soul, and the soul is the body.

It was like finding the Philosopher's Stone.

Hands come up; a sharp push with an open palm. A snap kick that deftly weaves between the two elemental loops. Both hands, thrust to the sides, and from them erupts a spinning wheel of scarlet flame. Now the third ball is in the air.

One more to go.

COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Alexis [E]       1/--=====/=======|=======\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-------|=======


COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the spread of the lightning nerves.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Alexis [E]       1/--=====/=======|=======\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-------|=======


COMBATSYS: Alexis successfully hits Bolivar with Drop D.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Alexis [E]       1/-======/=======|=======\==-----\1      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-------|=======


[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar growls as he twists the arm, savoring the feeling as the evil of his miserable existence is placed into the soul of another, dipping his wing in blood, before Alexis responds to save her from a complete dislocation. Bolivar stumbles backwards as his left foot is kicked backwards and he's forced to release his grip and put his right foot backwards, kiltering to his right, his body glowing with flaming yellow tinders as his black soul summons his reflexes. He pulls backwards, but Alexis' hands are too fast as he's pulled down and has his head shoved between her legs, driven face first into the sludge. He sputters as the shockwave blasts out from around them, his hands clawing at Alexis' thighs as air is cut off.

Bolivar remains there for a few moments, thrashing about, before his hands grab Alexis' ninja gi by the belt, and he surges to life out of the muck. He explodes with a roar to launch her off him, potentially off her feet, as he rises onto his knees in the mud and the silt, before he lurches forward at her, attempting to jump atop her with his adrenaline roaring and unleash his angry fists on her, his hands balling into fists as he attempts to scramble up onto the musician and unleash his fists on her while he can, attempting to pin her and lash out with fist after fist, down into her. His eyes burn bright yellow, his veins on his arms glowing hot as the water soaking him sizzles, his tattoos twisting about on his arms above his glowing muscles and tendons and gristle.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the strength of the killing fist.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Alexis [E]       1/-======/=======|=======\==-----\1      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-------|=======


COMBATSYS: Alexis Toughs Out Bolivar's Panther Rage!

[                        \\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Alexis [E]       2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-------|=======


[ALEXIS]
Thrown off of the larger fighter and into the seawater with a splash as Bolivar powers out from under her, Alexis is left with her hands and backside in the mud, leaving her practically defenseless as he pounces on her. Blow after blow rains down on Alexis' face and upper body, slamming her head back into the water before driving it into the mire. The water around her begins to flow crimson as her mouth and nose start to bleed under the pummeling, her body flinching with each strike. Her hands clench and unclench at either side of her, straining to remain above the water's surface, a fight that they seem to be losing. As the damage mounts, it starts to look as though resistance may be beaten out of the female fighter.

Then, just as her hands seem to relinquish their effort, Alexis takes a deep, gurgling breath in the space between punches.

With sudden force, Alexis thrusts her left hand up, catching Bolivar's right to give her the space to attempt to smash her bloodied face into his. Should she succeed, she'll attempt to grab hold of Bolivar and do a barrel roll, reversing their positions so that she's the one on top of him. The scene that would ensue might seem strangely like an inverse deja vu as the jewel at Alexis' throat glints scarlet and the hail of punches falls in the opposite direction, accompanied by the keening of souls, thund'rous bursts of energy and enraged screaming of Alexis herself:

"GO!"

*BLAM*

"BACK!"

*BLAM*

"TO!"

*BLAM*

"YOUR!"

*POW*

"MASTER!

*BLAM*

"FUCKER!"

COMBATSYS: Alexis channels the strength of the killing fist.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Alexis [E]       2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-------|=======


[RUST]
The mysterious presence milling about the battlefield, doing whatever it is they will to slow the hordes - it is uncertain if truly slaying them is on the table, but inconviencing remains on the menu - goes quieter. No discordant actions that disrupt the flow of movements for either party. No loud sounds or screams suggesting they may yet have been caught. One less sense to be befuddled as Frei gathers together the elements under his mastery, a--
"Oh, I see what you're doin'. Hey. Cool." Comes a voice behind him. It's a familiar one. How did they get there without making further noise? If there's anyone in a life and death situation that seems reasonably capable of moving about it like one a casual stroll in the park under a great, big cloud of obliviousness, it's none other than--
"Neat, ooh, let me guess, something like... 'all are one,' 'anything could be anything else,' yep, think I'm about on that at," So speaks the voice of one Howard Rust, Jr., whose impressive hair sways in a gentle breeze as he stands in proximity of a living miracle... wait, what the hell, is he reading minds? This is crazy, what does he have to offer?
More importantly, where's his son? Did something happen? No, there's no sense of all that much worry. Without being in the company of his son, what is he really like under incredible duress? Is there something he is about to unleash, free from eyes he'd rather not have witness it?
"Ahh, sorry, I know you're busy, but I thought I'd drop by real quick," he's not helping, but there's not so much energetic movement. He's not scurrying about, making weird gesticulations to the open air. He is at least maintaining personal space boundaries, if that is the only grace, but this is the worst time for some casual chit-chat!! He's ruining the moment!
"It can be kinda tough to see a lot of this, eh? Good friends at their worst." He must be referring to Alexis. To see one of his good friends, a teammate in the King of Fighters, having become... that, but his cheer is maintained. "All around, doom and gloom. Not a lot of happy colour to draw from--" Even the narrative is starting to get fed up with this. Stop talking. Go away.
"Ahh, y'know, I think you got this already, but," SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP
"You got to love the world, no matter what form it takes, or what it takes from you. That way... there's nothing you can't take of it. Yep!" He lifts up his right hand in that familiar gesture he uses to a warm blue glow around his wrist blah blah whatever, the flash of a smile on his big stupid annoying face--
Thank you, revenant from over there, who just lunged at him. Now, if you could do something about that mouth of his...
"Remind 'em what they love too!" He calls, as he is beset upon by the reanimated soldier... and another... and another, until he's carried away.
Finally!!!!!!!!!!!
Now, where were we...

COMBATSYS: Bolivar channels the spread of the lightning nerves.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/---<<<<|==-----\-------\0      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-------|=======


COMBATSYS: Alexis successfully hits Bolivar with Beatdown in Three Four.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  //                            ]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/---<<<<|=======\=------\1      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-------|=======


[FREI]
Honestly a voice and person appearing out of nowhere should be quite disconcerting. But if his journey to finish this invocation were like flying into a hurricane, Frei has blown through the cyclonic destruction of the eyewall, and has now passed into the relative calm of the eye. It's a bit like a rule of inverses; holding one looping spiral of elemental energy was challenging. A second was taxing. But by the time you've hit the third, the effort has paid off. The imminent fourth will, interestingly enough, likely be the easiest of them all.

The question now is: what to do with it.

As before, Frei's hands come back to chest height, palms only slightly apart, fingers angled into a narrow steeple, thumbs touching, eyes closed. Rust -- for it can be nobody BUT him -- has quite a lot to say, and the sage's impassive-seeming expression must actually feel quite rude, to an outsider, as if Frei were making a pointed and direct attempt to ignore the handyman ninja. In truth, however, he's quite grateful for the protection he's been offered. He just has comparatively little to say.

'You got to love the world, no matter what form it takes, or what it takes from you.' Concentration and focus aside, at that, a tiny corner of Frei's mouth turns up, the faintest ghost of a smile. He might not put it quite that way -- there's plenty in the world you are not at all required to love, in the redhead's opinion -- but the core principle is the same: accept things as they are, and you can handle anything. By now he's accepted that Junior is a different person, a new and different individual... but it does Frei's heart good to see a fragment of the man he once knew somewhere at the core of that person.

'Not a lot of happy color to draw from.' And yet, surrounding Frei like the rings of a distant planet, arcs of blue, red, and gold shine forth.

Quietly, he says: "They're safe, by the way," seemingly to nobody. "Jao and Aya, I mean."

Maybe such reassurance is his way of saying thanks.

Eyes still closed, Frei takes one long slow breath in, and then bursts into motion. He doesn't move positionally; rather, staying in place, his torso and arms move in a swift and complicated spiral from standing to kneeling. As if pulled along with the twisting motions of his hands, the wet air curls and bends into the final spiral, the four elements twisting around in patterns both ordered and erratic at once, settling into place.

Frei's eyes open.

Various cultures view the elements in rather different ways. But almost all systems of belief accept that any individual element is part of a broader whole, a stage in an unending cycle, like the seasons, looping back on itself forever. Hence, 'everything is everything else': eventually change will turn one thing into another, forever. Bodies are made of matter, atoms borrowed from other objects; energy is neither created nor destroyed, merely changing form, adjusting shape.

The secret Frei discovered, perhaps because of this island's rather loose approach to life and death, is that the soul is more or less the same. Senjutsu: the art of immortality, of the understanding that provides eternal life. Senjutsu is the art of acceptance and understanding. Accept the world as it is, and become one with its cycles. 'Immortality' does not mean staying as you are forever.

Holding his hands in front of him, palms out, the red-haired sennin concentrates. The four elemental spirals crash and twist, coming together, intermingling, flowing as a four-part helix directly into his outstretched hands as a ball of white light. The Greeks called it the fifth element, 'quintessence': the stuff of life itself. The raw, formless shape of existence as it enters or leaves the cycle.

And in being formless, it is capable of basically anything. It has yet to decide. Potential given form.

Holding the ball in one hand, Frei reaches up with the other, removing the blue magatama from around his neck, holding it in the air next to the sphere of light. Staring at it intensely, he takes a breath, and then gives a wan smile. "Be free. And thank you."

The comma-shaped gem shatters, its black cord floating gently to the gathering water below.

Rust had said, 'remind 'em what they love, too'. Looking at the glowing white sphere of quintessence, Frei's eyes take on a glassy sheen. This is a gamble. He doesn't actually know if this is going to work. But it's better than not doing anything.

Rather ruining the moment, he cracks a smile. "This looked so much easier in Okami. Why can't I be a cute white wolf?"

He lets the orb go. It floats gently down until it reaches the ground, shining through the rising inches of water on its descent. When it reaches the island surface at last, a pulse explodes outwards from the point of impact, a rippling white wave of pure life force, shading to a hazy prism at the very edges of the wave. It can and will encompass Alexis, Bolivar, and their respective revenants... in fact it keeps going until it's out of sight entirely, moving quickly.

Perhaps it is enough to drive out the corrupting influence of Shang Tsung and Quan Chi. Perhaps it isn't, and their sorcery shall hold.

But perhaps it's enough to make a crack, an inroad, that Alexis and Bolivar -- through their own will -- can force open, if they wish. Maybe it's not a cure, but an opportunity.

Frei's hands return to chest height, fingers touching, face serene. "The rest is up to you."

COMBATSYS: Frei channels the veins of the burning blood.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  //                            ]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/---<<<<|=======\=------\1      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-----==|=======


COMBATSYS: Frei takes no action.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  //                            ]
Alexis [E]       0/-------/---<<<<|=======\=------\1      [E] Bolivar
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-----==|=======


[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar's fist is halted by Alexis' deft, hard catch, as he feels his knuckles give him a loving ache of having smashed the skull of another human being. He stares at her, his seething rage palpable from his rising and falling shoulders, before he's snapped backwards by the headbutt, and spun around beneath her. Stunned, his body glows with a dimming umbra of light from his soul shard as he attempts to crawl free, but he's trapped by her legs, and is pounded backwards into the mud, his head thrashing about as he's punched left and right, his eyes slowly dimming as he's pummelled. His hands, gripping Alexis' hips, dig into the fabric of her ninja gi, clutching in fists, before his hands spasm open.

As Frei summons magic, he feels the opportunity to escape with an exhale from his lungs, Quan Chi's poisonous magic abating for a moment. He has a vision of his family's butler, from his childhood, the two of them fleeing to a Venezuela airport after the deaths of his parents. He stares up, into the sky, before he emits a shout. His back arches beneath him, and he chokes on the saltwater, before going limp, the black shade fading from his body as he is purged and returns from the Nethers, to the world of the living, without becoming on of Shang Tsung's. His head turns to the side, as he lapses from consciousness.

COMBATSYS: Bolivar takes no action.

[                        \\\\\\  <
Alexis [E]       0/-------/---<<<<|
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-----==|=======


COMBATSYS: Bolivar can no longer fight.

[                        \\\\\\  <
Alexis [E]       0/-------/---<<<<|
                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-----==|=======


[ALEXIS]
The last blow falls as Bolivar's resistance ends, leaving the ashen woman breathing raggedly atop the revenant. Alexis' head turns abruptly as she senses the wave of purifying energy approaching, her slick and matted hair swinging away to reveal her blood-covered face with the motion as she locks her gaze on Frei.

<Stop him.>

As the white energy passes over her, Alexis is revealed to be staggering up to her feet in the water. Barely conscious, perhaps barely alive, her left arm spasming as it hangs at her side, she turns her body fully toward the elementalist. "No," she growls, voice sabulous from strain. Then, she starts lumbering forward.

The water sloshes with each step as Alexis gains momentum, then begins to part ahead of her as a droning hum builds to tangible power around her body. As she gets close, her right arm swings back, her body twisting at the waist before slingshotting forward into a reckless punch. She stumbles and keels forward with the effort, as if her fist were pulling her person forward rather than being pushed by it. The droning emanates from her right hand as it approaches, signalling the danger of the energy to be released should it connect.

[RUST]
There is an army of the undead piling themselves atop that one man who has dared, constantly, to be a nuisance in almost every step of the grand plan. Whether it is simple collateral damage sustained through the act of protecting one's son or some greater, deliberate intent that has escaped scrutiny up to this point ceases to be relevant. It may have even turned to an unspoken truce among these two armies of the dead, just to deal with this troublemaker. Independent. Incredible. Irritant.
They might even dedicate themselves to just staying there on top of him, weighing him down to let him sink to the ocean with the rest of them. Surely, the Elder Gods' interests in these mortals will subside with the conclusion of the kontest.
...
A thumbs up from the right hand, colored with the hues and tones of a body still containing a beating heart emerges from one part of the corpse dogpile, as if on cue with Frei's reassurance. Some wriggling occurs underneath the growing pile, building in intensity as Frei unleashes the built-up power generated over two separate lifetimes of existence.
The infamous purple hue of a land that bears sadness gives way to a sterile brown. A purgatory of transition, as the water yet continues to rise to swallow it. The land is in palliative care, but this corner of the blood-stained isles shall be allowed to slumber under the sea in peace.
...
Rust Jr.'s head pops out of the top of the now unmoving corpse pile, gasping for air and gagging as he tumbles noisily down the mound of the momentarily mobilized moribund marauders, clumsily splashing into the water in a seated position next to the fallen Bolivar.
He coughs, he sputters, and otherwise doesn't seem that much more alive than anyone else... but that gives way to a bit of pained, strained laughter. The warm shine of his sapphire-hued soul shard - the beads around his right hand - glow ever brighter thanks to his son's donation of his own stored power. It might have given him a second wind just getting here and acting, but even they could only be pushed so far.
They are for a purpose other than himself.
"Alll... aaaaaaaahhh, hm." From his seated position in the purified waters, Rust Jr. finds himself at a rare moment of caurious thought, as he witnesses an Alexis still in the thrall of dark powers going towards the sage. By the corner of his eyes, he takes a gander over at the man whose soul ownership he now owes to Frei's intervention.
He snaps his fingers. "Science!" He only did the act of personal revival the once, and even that... had interesting results. He runs his right hand across Bolivar's upper body...
"Huh. Didn't know that could go there about," he muses as he jerks the Interpol agent up to a sitting position, and starts rudely and uncomfortably poking him in the space between his eyes with his right hand. The space that contains a bright, flaming yellow coloration - their own shard.
If Bolivar is already moving past the brink of mortality, some of the light within the so-called ninja's shard goes forth to yank Bolivar's soul back into his body, to rejuvinate it back to life with still some light left to spare.
If nothing else, he helps keep the Interpol agent's head above water, which is sound medical science unto itself.
"Be right with," he says, back faced to the brewing confrontation between himself and Alexis, "science!"

COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Alexis' Fierce Punch.

[                        \\\\\\  <
Alexis [E]       0/-------/----===|
                 [  |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|----===|=======


[FREI]
Rust shouts 'science!'. Alexis dives across the proverbial sinking ship to take out her mystically-induced aggression on Frei.

Well, science says that sound travels by vibrating a medium; on Earth, that usually means air. Essentially, 'sound' is air moving in time with a particular waveform. So if you want to defend yourself against sound, and you can bend the air to your will...

There is a *WHUMPF* and then, weirdly, a moment of eerie silence as Alexis's hand slaps into Frei's outstretched palm, as the waveform of Alexis's sonic energy is re-tuned to disperse into motionlessness.

Science.

The resulting punch stings, because the sennin literally just caught it with his bare hand, however, and the wince of pain shows on his face. For a moment he gives Alexis a calm, almost... apologetic look, before pulling his hand back from her fist, where it begins to glow a hazy white... perhaps some remnant of the intense power he just unleashed, a fragment he kept in reserve for just such an occasion.

Green eyes laser focus on to Alexis's face. "Hey," Frei offers, as if this is the easiest thing in the world. "Snap out of it."

With that, he presses a hand forward, looking to lay it flat on the rock princess's stomach. If he can pull that off, he just... releases the held force, which passes through her body in a burst of white light. Maybe one last jolt will make a difference?

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar lurches up in Rust's arms, bucking as his soul is returned to his body. He splutters up a mouthful of tide, the black water slightly sticky down his chest where blood has mixed in. His head lolls to the side, as he opens his eyes, grunting. He is direly hurt, but he's alive, and he's returned from the Nethers.

"Vaya con dios, ese," he whispers, barely a hush, but loud enough for Rust to hear.

COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Alexis with The Fourfold Path EX.
- Power hit! -
> Determined Hit! <

[                                <
Alexis [E]       1/------=/=======|
                 [  |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|----===|=======


[ALEXIS]
The young woman's form shudders as she drops to her knees with the arrested momentum of the headlong haymaker. The position leaves her exposed, right arm extended into the failed punch and left arm hanging limp at her side. Her face is obscured by her hair once more, until she lifts it to return Frei's attention, causing it to part toward the right side of her face and reveal the watery, unfocused look of her own aquamarine left eye. It goes wide as Frei's hand collides with her stomach. A sharp inhalation is audible as the purifying energy is released.

For a moment, the Canadian goes stiff. Then, she throws back her head and screams.

It's a sound not unlike the banshee-like cry from earlier, but as the air rushes from her lungs, the quality of the noise changes - what begins as the soulless howl of the damned becomes a cry of defiance. What it's in defiance of may not be clear - whether it's an attempt to break from the sorcerous hold on her mind or the bidding of the same to defy the light that would seek to remove its taint.

Perhaps unfortunately for Frei, regardless of the intent, the result is a potentially devastating (not to mention aurally painful) blast of sonic force released in a stream that happens to be aimed in his general direction.

Once the almost impossible-seeming entirety of the air in her lungs is spent, Alexis will slump forward, on the verge of falling prostrate to her knees and elbows...

COMBATSYS: Alexis has reached second wind!

[                         \\\\\  <
Alexis [E]       0/-------/------=|
                 [  |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|----===|=======


[RUST]
The Canadian handyman adventurer draws his hand back - and thus ceasing the rude and uncomfortable between-the-eyes poking, no matter how miraculously death-defying the results - as the little light show that comes with the exchange of life and death subsides, and Bolivar murmurs out his thanks in his native tongue.
"Yyyyyyyyes," the aging man pumps a fist like he's maybe a third of his actual age. "Two for two... uhhh, that's not right," he looks up to Frei and brings a finger to his chin, pressing his lips together tightly as if now doubting these exact numerical figures. "More like... one-and-a-half for two..."
He clears his throat as he faces back to the newly-revived Bolivar.
"Uh, hey, buddy. Buddy. Sorry, know you just woke up, but," he points to the point between Bolivar's eyes, "gonna need to borrow some of that in... two minutes. I mean, uh, take your time waking up, been a hell of a trip, eh?" 'Take your time' is an odd thing to say when the both of them are currently sitting and/or kneeling against cold water that invites its own health hazards as the ground they stand on is rapidly ceasing to be even /that/.
He doesn't have time to hear Bolivar say 'yes' or 'no,' putting his cooperation in good faith as he stands up to the dramatic backdrop of an explosion of the elements. The other revenants all lost their mojo thanks to Frei's sacrifice of his protections. Bolivar, himself, was able to be saved from the brink.
Alexis, though, he knows full well about just how determined she is! There's no keeping her down. (Well, there /was/ at some point, as she appears to be not-dead, but on average, no keeping her down!!) When the two fought against one another in the Mortal Kombat tournament, she outlasted and full-on blasted him out of the tourney - if for professed sake of his son.
Who she turn around and concussed, pressured into obeying the thrice-insistent instructions given to her. Even then, he has willingly (or rather, unwittingly) forewent one avenue of safe escape alongside his son for her sake, as he trudges across the purged waters that now can only be considered fouled by proximity to the dead, rather than by influence of evil.

"Alexis!" He speaks, huffing and puffing as he does a short jog across the distance as her inhuman screams ring across his ears, the way she continues to try and wail on Frei. It's tough to walk against the proximity of such awesome power being unleashed from the sage - it almost blows him right back onto his ass, and he's not anywhere near ground zero! His right hand thrusts out into the open air as if to push back against it.
"It's me! You know the one. Howard Rust, Jr.!" He calls, lowering his hand. "Came on back looking for you, someone found a way out that--"
He stops. Wait, he didn't even wait to hear what this way out was. A little nervous smile comes to his face. Okay, moving on to a new talking point.
"I-I'll get over that later within," he clears his throat as he risks stepping ever closer to a crazed madwoman driven to seek death and destruction by the influence of a sorcerer whose scope of power yet exceeds anyone's grasp.
"Uhhh... I understand you're... probably dead? Kind of? And, uhh, this sounds like you're really upset over it, or... something else is kind of pushing you around, like a zombie? Yep. I know all about those, let me tell y--"
He catches himself from going onto a useless anecdote. "A-Anyway, I know you're there, 'cause I see that thing on your neck, and... listen! Maybe you're kind of upset and acting out, and... l-let me tell you, one of the worst things I got to see, every day," his voice gets a little strained, "is my son Jao live in fear of the big, crazy, beautiful world, all of it, so, uh... you know, I can't change that past for him, orrr... anyone... else in..."
He clears his throat.
"Don't think I can do anything about how or what you felt going through, uh, dying... that's... that's probably gonna be sad to remember, but... you're still young, eh?" Also dead.
He holds up the beaded bracelet anew. "So, it happens Earth won, I think, so your bandmates are all lounging about, wondering where we are. Got a whole world to still love and explore! Y'know, like the Rockies." That time where they accidentally went into the sasquatch village. "Yep, ahh, I'll get to the point--"
Please do.
"Frei and I only got blue shards, if I got the colours down pat at, we can't... kill each other or die, or what have you, you got... uh, red? Which is the opposite? A-Anyway!! I can pull you back from death, probably free of being a zombie or something--"
He nods his head, and puts on the biggest, dumbest smile he can.
"Just got to apply some science! Like... try and kill yourself!" What?! "Yep! That'll do it! Like... rock out so hard like that Australian guy, what's-his-name, that he went out," Zabel Zarock. Someone that Alexis actually personally knows, who did indeed rock himself out so hard that he exploded into the eldritch horror he is today.
"I'm about 75% sure that it'll work! I went to MIT! Science is one of my favourite things! It's, uh, a little weird! Telling a good friend to go take off the mortal coil, but... I'll catch you back when! Odds seem good to me it'll work..."
He swallows a lump. "It's, ah, the only good idea I got left, Alexis, 'cause..."
"I think you ought to be the one to tell Kim to E-bay your stuff when we get back, eh?"
...Did he miss the point of that request she made?! He holds out his shard-bearing hand back towards Bolivar, signaling to him that he's going to need the extra power from his shard soon.

COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Alexis' Shredding Solo.

[                         \\\\\  <
Alexis [E]       0/-------/------=|
                 [    |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|---====|=======


[FREI]
Talk about sensory overload. Rust's presence re-enters the scene, trying to convince Alexis, and he has rather a lot to say. Alexis, howling, teetering on the edge of the abyss, tethered to the darkness by the machinations of some distant, uncaring despot. Chaos all around, reflecting in the punishing wall of sound Alexis's scream emits. There is, as one might say, a lot going on here. But if there's anyone able to maintain serenity in the face of literally the exact opposite of serenity, it's Frei.

As Rust talks about Alexis's state as a revenant, Frei's arms start to pinwheel in swift, circular motions; a much larger and more intense version of the defense he used nont a moment ago. Light and force send the rising waters into disarray as the scream, made nearly solid by the rock princess's rage, smashes against a now-barely-visible spherical barrier of air, one continuously spiralled into being through Frei's arm movements.

But it's clearly taking its toll. The energy to fight against the force of the attack has to come from *somewhere*, and in Frei's case -- having used so much of his stamina already -- it's literally from within. The scream is being kept out, but a trickle of blood runs from the sennin's nose, the feedback of the process exacting a cost as real and tangible as if Alexis had slugged him in the face herself.

"Not... dead," he bites out, voice tight with concentration and fatigue. "Don't think... anything can die here. This place was on the border, sitting between two worlds. Not dead, but trapped. Stuck between changes of state."

With the last ripples of its echo, the scream finally dies away, and Frei slumps forward, taking deep breaths. A hand comes up, wiping the blood from his face, before he turns to Alexis. "Life leads to death leads to life. Perfect circle. But this place interrupts that. So you have to decide: which would you rather be. You can make that choice. You get to pick."

His arms start moving again, in seemingly slow and lazy motions, still spiralling and circular, but much more deliberate, more obviously shaping something, weaving it. Frei steadily walks toward Alexis, arms still moving; around him, the steadily rising waters leap into the air, multiple tendrils starting to slowly circle the Canadian rocker. "But you have to decide *now*," Frei adds. "Before it's too late."

Standing less than a few feet away, now, Frei changes up his movements, the motions the same but becoming more swift. In response, the water surges upward, looking to wrap around Alexis's body before flash-freezing into chains of ice, the entire goal being to keep her securely in place for whatever comes next. After all, Rust seems to know her. He might have a plan.

Frei *hopes* she has a plan.

[BOLIVAR]
Bolivar nods faintly, a pained look on his face, as Rust stands and moves away towards Alexis and Frei. He turns onto his side, stopping himself from falling into the muck with his strained left arm, the ectomorphic trait in his elbow obvious from his exhaustion, despite his muscle. Pressing himself to his feet, he follows after Rust, and extends his hand to Rust's, a sparkling flare of yellow from his fingertips as he transfers what little is left of his soul shard to Rust's, for the proper power Rust needs. He doesn't have much left, but hopefully it's enough.

COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Alexis with Ebb and Flow.

[                                <
Alexis [E]       0/-------/=======|
                 [     ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-======|=======


[ALEXIS]
Alexis' head turns ever so slightly toward the sound of Rust's voice as her fellow Team Canadian addresses her directly, though she doesn't look fully in his direction, almost seeming to intentionally conceal her face from direct regard. Her body heaves with each breath, the strain of respiration clear. She doesn't make a move as the water rises up around her, either lacking the awareness or the reserves to properly react. She starts to rise out of the seawater toward her feet when she seems to become aware of her predicament, but the bindings lash and freeze solid around her limbs, pinning her to the swamped earth. Her head turns one more time toward Rust, before looking down to the ice around her feet, and sees herself looking back in reflection.

The icy shackles rattle, cracks beginning to form throughout the crystalline structure as a distorted, yet harmonious chord begins to hum from within. Alexis' body begins to shake as the sound grows steadily, this time not uncontrolled like the previous outbursts, but deliberately building toward climactic levels - and then further, beyond the threshold of inducing tinnitus to even more dangerous heights. By the time that Alexis opens her mouth once more, her voice is completely absorbed by the sound, the crystal around her throat shimmering in the dark.

COMBATSYS: Alexis can no longer fight.

                 [     ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Frei [E]         1|-======|=======


One hundred and forty decibels is the threshold of pain at all sound frequencies.

At one hundred and fifty decibels, sound creates a sense of compression in the listener, as if they were underwater.

At one hundred and sixty-three decibels, glass breaks.

At one hundred and ninety five decibels, roughly the sound at the epicentre of an exploding grenade, human eardrums rupture.

At two hundred and two decibels, death by shock can occur from sound alone.

It's hard to say what exact decibel level the sound within Alexis' prison reaches by the time that it abruptly ceases, but those nearby likely will have wanted to seek protection by the time it does. By then, the ice has shattered to the ground completely, the tinkling as it falls inaudible through the noise.

Her trust in a friend's advice and will to choose are proven as Alexis collapses forward into the rising saltwater, which begins to slowly flow red as she goes still and silent.

[RUST]
This is a three-man effort. Frei has taken the charge of trying to fight against not just the revenants, but the very environment that fosters them. Rust Jr. had run interference against the hordes. The newly-revived Bolivar sacrifices what power he has as to best ensure that the next step of this rescue plan can go off without a hitch.
Coaxed by words and restraints of cold ice, Alexis screams... louder... and louder... and louder...
Even Rust Jr., who is noted for being fond of sudden loud noises finds himself at a limit, quickly, moving to shield both his ears and Bolivar's.
Some of the extra charges of power given by Bolivar start to bleed off as the shards shine. Jr.'s lips comically flap before the violent vibrations of the very air, and the ground. Teeth chatter. It does not seem like it would be enough...
It ends.
Alexis flops over, having committed suicide in a final battle of will. Shang Tsung would bear witness to one last terrible indignity, as Jr. rises up again.
"IT'S ALL LEAD UP TO THIS!"
His ears are ringing. They may keep ringing for a while. Maybe a long, long while, but in the short term, this only marginally excuses the shouting.
"SO I SAID SOMETHING LIKE SEVENTY-FIVE PERCENT CHANCE! BASED ON TWO PREVIOUS TRIALS, ONE OF THEM BROUGHT BACK SOMEONE ELSE ENTIRELY!"
He must mean Frei.
"SO IF THIS BRINGS BACK DAVID BOWIE BY ACCIDENT, WELL," that might actually be kind of awesome but based on the look on the man's face, that infamously unflappable stride of his rapidly deteriorating. The outcome he seeks should well be obvious, as he oafishly tossed aside sure-fire salvation alongside his son just for a shot at going to help rescue Alexis.
He doesn't finish the statement as he sees the remaining glow within his shard. He presses his lips together tightly as he kneels into the blood-stained water to turn Alexis right-side up as to see the red gem. He could feel his heart pounding! He hasn't felt this tense since the last time his--
No, that's not the time for that. Not like he'd miss that for long, for a given value of missing, but...
Through the lifeless wastes now cleansed of the stench of evil, a spark of life and hope still yet remains, as the middle-aged moron passes a look over to Frei, and back over to Bolivar over his shoulder.
"LET'S GET 'ER DONE!"
With that and an excessive wiggling of fingers, he stabs his right thumb into Alexis' choker.
The last of the light leaves his bracelet, channeling however much power - however many souls there are left, all that may be needed - into where Alexis' own soul rests.
All four of them are bound together for one final miracle of the odd ways in which life and death works upon this island.

[ALEXIS]
As Alexis is rolled over in the water, the damage to her person is revealed to be extensive. Whatever caused her body to give in isn't visible on the surface, but her face is welted and her jaw and collar streaked with blood. Puncture wounds of indeterminate recency appear to have perforated her torso at some point.

The red gem is in its place on the choker around her throat, lifeless and dark. As the light passes from Rust's bracelet into the jewel, though, it starts to pulse dimly, a distant white glint like fog appearing within the facets. The deadliest of the injuries begin to fade as the power of the soul crystal bids flesh to knit together. Colour begins to return to her skin as circulation returns to her veins.

Finally, Alexis shudders as she takes a deep breath... then exhales slowly.

After a few moments, the Canadian pushes herself shakily up to a half-seated position, still taking steady breaths, less noticeable for the absence of struggle for each.

"That... sucked," she summarises, shivering as a skull floats past in the seawater. Her eyes shift between Rust, Frei and Bolivar, her expression becoming meek. "I..." She sniffs. Her nose crinkles. "...friggin' reek. Shit. Sorry." Well, it's almost a thank you?

Her eyes then flit down to the rising tide, and almost suddenly, a sense of urgency begins to permeate her actions. She pushes herself up out of the calf-deep water, dripping wet. "Anybody else not interested in finding out what drowning feels like?"

She looks to Rust. "You said... something, right? How do we get out of here?" She looks around again, then frowns. "Where's the kiddo?"

[FREI]
In the erratic spasms of her cursed state, it's little surprise that Alexis could shatter the all-too-temporary bonds of ice that held her immobile. If anything, the crystalline structure of ice is all too susceptible to the intense vibrations of sound, but even as she snaps her bonds like frosty twigs, Frei's premonition proves entirely true. Rust had a plan, and with his typical eccentric flair, puts it into action. If change is the only constant in the universe, then it pays to embrace impermanence.

As handyman and rocker come together, letting the power of friendship prevail, Frei watches for a moment, bringing his hands back to the same steepled, prayer-like position that's been the ground state for most of the fight. But once it's clear that Rust is on solid (if wet) ground, physically and metaphorically, the sennin shuts his eyes, letting out a slow exhalation, thinking carefully about their next move. Much as he did for Zach many weeks ago, he's got something to find, to look for. It's harder, now, without the soul shard, but not impossible. After all, the shard was just a tool that made certain things easier, but it was likely the mixed-up mystical physics of this cross-dimensional borderland that really made it happen.

He opens his eyes at roughly the moment that Alexis asks if anyone wants to know what drowning feels like, and with a faint smile, he drops out of... well, whatever it was he was in, either a meditating or fighting stance. It is a bit like he switched something off, going from 'mystic' to 'casual' in a heartbeat. "Gonna say: no," he responds. "You can get real sick of dying after a while, believe me." Well THAT was cryptic.

He turns to look for Bolivar for a second, but with the waters continuing to rise, there isn't a lot of time to make sure everyone's got their arms and legs inside the tram. Swiveling back to Rust and Alexis, he clears his throat. "There is a way out. I can lead us there, if you want, but we don't have much time." Alexis probably has no reason to trust this absolute stranger, but for Rust, at least, Frei's intimation that he knew Jao and Aya were safe despite being halfway across the island suggests that he probably is telling the truth.

[RUST]
The oddball man's ability to deal with dead bodies in various states of mangling and decay should probably be taken note of for later.
For all the bravado (and unverifiable but probable proportions of ignorance) the long-haired adventurer puts forth, to watch and see his handiwork come together one last time after briefly covering his eyes in case of the light threatens to blind as much as Alexis' death rattle did, the emotion that comes to his face - no doubt unchained from being able to move independently of Jao for the first time in who knows how long - is unmistakable. He doesn't have words, for once. He does have laughter!
Laughter that changes, abruptly, as Alexis mentions the whole 'how do we get out of here' thing, raising his right hand as she mentions the kid.
"Jao? He's great! A friend got us a way out, and---"
He stops. "Aaaand.... and..."
Frei comes to the rescue while the overweight ninja rises up from the blood-stained water behind the rejuvinated Alexis, freeing him of all responsibility for his irresponsibility so long as he doesn't cop to it.
"That's good! That's good." Rapid-fire nodding. "That's... good about. So I don't have to mention that I, uh, walked away from the last person who knew without waiting to hear 'em say."
Beat.
"Which I didn't say out loud."
Of course he didn't say it out loud. At the end of the day, he is not that absurdly stupid. Not at all, no matter how guilty the sudden downshift from relieved laughter to guilty chuckling comes off as.
Moving to help both Alexis and Bolivar stay upright, he tries to bring the both of them before Frei as it feels the ground beneath him is taking on more and more water. A small hill collapses into the ocean outright not all that far from the lot of them!
"What say we all go on back, eh?" He asks after wasting a good four precious seconds to even suggest bringing that up. Of course it's time to go!! "Ahh, if we had more time at, I'd take a better look at what you just did--"
Referring to Frei's handiwork in purifying the island, no doubt.
"Don't worry about him," he asides to Alexis, "already did plenty." That's a vote of confidence...?
He flashes a thumb up to Frei.

[ALEXIS]
Frei's words elicit a 'pffft' from Alexis, purposed also to try and blow aside the sopping tendrils of hair that won't stay out of her eyes. When the puff of air proves ineffective at doing so, she raises a hand to do so. "Tell me about it, eh?" she says quietly as she moves her hand down to scoop her left arm into a cross-stomach posture, cradling it against herself. She throws her head back to swing her hair back over her scalp, a position it wouldn't hold naturally but manages in its current soaked state. Her eyes shift to Rust as he moves up beside her. She gives a slight nod as she listens to what he has to say before lowering them at the last direct address. There's a lot to process and not nearly enough time to do it in with the water rising ever higher and the island sundering beneath them.

"Thanks for letting me know," she says quietly. "And, like... generally speaking."

Using one side of the handyman for support, she looks past his shoulders to Bolivar on the other side.

"Hey. I'm Lexi," she introduces herself, perhaps a bit belatedly. "...Sorry about the face."

Not that hers is in any better shape, bruised and blood-stained as it is. She could even be apologizing for her own appearance.

She turns her head to face Frei. "So... which way is home?"

Log created on 18:54:21 03/21/2017 by Alexis, and last modified on 02:19:29 03/25/2017.