LCC - R1: 50 Shades of Grey VS My Little Homicidal Maniacs

[Enigmatic Immortal]

This round begins at 12:00 PM PACIFIC TIME on Friday! Good Luck!!!

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

The Grande Lighthouse.

A monolithic two-thousand foot edifice, it's top visible from half of Lornius. It made sure the shipping lanes into the port of Lyridia were kept safe, sending out shining beams of light to penetrate the thickest fog. It had kept thousands of ships out of the depths of the sea, and as far as anyone cared, it always would. The lighthouse reached up into the heavens, like a finger of bone, crowned with flame. Inside, the insane height of the thing was broken up by about a dozen small landings- simply wooden-floored rooms, with a few chairs and a table. No windows, no fire-places, no nothing. It may have been a architectural marvel..

But by the Powers, it's givin' me the yawn, Aurelianus Drak'shal sneered, glowering out of the thick windows ringing the topmost room of the building.

The tiefling leaned on the steel rail trying to ingore the balmy heat of the room, looking down at the waves barely visible far below as they crashed against the rocky shore. The sun had set a few minutes before, leaving the deep water a warm azure, slowly dimming to impenetrable black. Outside, at this height, the wind screamed past with enough force to uproot trees, but through the incredibly thick window panes, Aurelius could only hear it as a muffled sigh. He watched idly as the rain streaked across the glass almost horizontally. There's a storm pickin' up, he tutted to himself, just managing to see the single ferry he'd arrived in, tied up to the jetty. If the storm picked up too badly, he might not be able to leave the remote little island tonight.

For the thousandth time since he'd called kip in the top floor of the Grande, he strolled around the perimeter, smoking through his umpteenth cigarette- the bare stone room was a wide circle, featureless save for the spiral staircase leading to the lower floors, the steel rail meant to keep people away from the thick glass of the windows, and of course, the actual "light" part of the lighthouse. It was a fairly simple system that provided the powerful illumination, but almost.. elegant in it's simplicity: In the centre of the room was a large contraption made up of two huge braziers and a collection of mirrors to reflect the light. It rotated smoothly on a series of gears and cogs, still performing its duty despite the bloodshed that was going to take place here tonight.

Back in Ettermire, he had stumbled on the chant about the Lornius Corporate Challenge, and had instantly taken a liking to it- two sets of sods trying to nick each other, and every other bastard until they had killed (or "defeated") all other opposition- sod the winnings, Aurelius would have joined just for the chance to pen some cutters in the dead-book. He had asked a few berks to fill him in on the dark of it. Not long after, he'd been on his way to Lornius for the tournament.

There had only been one problem; where in the Nine Hells was he going to find anyone to fight alongside him?

As he finished his smoke, crushing the stub under his boot, the warlock turned to regard his companion. The answer had come to him after a recent bout in the Radasanth Citadel- why not ask the the last person he had murdered?

"So, when we thinkin' they'll show up Bright Eyes?" he asked casually, parking his ears for any sign of other people entering the Grande. The light took another slow rotation.

As she had done with every question he'd asked for the last half-hour, Madison ignored it. Aurelius let his serpentine eyes roam over her body for the hundredth time since he'd met her- he realised she wasn't exactly ignoring him; more, she was only half-paying attention. The sable-haired girl muttered something, which may have been an answer, or it may have been another little remark to show her displeasure at the fact he had burned her alive from the skull down.

In retrospect, it may have been a poor choice, asking someone you'd incinerated to be the one you trusted with your life- unlike the Citadel, there were no spellslinging bloods to patch you up the second you died. If you ended up a deader here, you stayed in the dead-book. He headed back over to where he had laid his weapons, and other gear for last minute maintenance; draping his coat over the railing, Aurelius checked the straps and buckles on his armour and wand-bracers- all were tight and secure, every barb, hook and blade on the interlocking leather plates gleaming in the warm glow of the fire-pits. Strapping his knives, cleaver and shurikens back in place passed another few minutes. He was sick of waiting for his opponents to show up. The tiefling was spoiling for a fight. After he had re-armed, the warlock started fiddling with the dozens of charms, talismans, tokens and myriad other fetishes he had around his wrists and neck. They clicked and jingled softly in the quiet of the room, the only other noise being the soft purr of the gears turning. He didn't deal with being bored very well.

"Y'know, Bright Eyes, you ain't much of a conversationalist," he smirked, about to spark up another smoke when a very welcome sound reached his ears: far below, the heavy metal door of the lighthouse swung open, followed by the shrieking gale. From this height, it was still faint, far-off. But to his heightened senses, it meant one thing for Aurelius.

Play time.

Drawing one of his Baatorian knives as he loosened up his neck and shoulders, the tiefling spoke to Madison over his shoulder- "You ready, luv?"

[Ruby]

Sometime Not So Long Ago

It had taken a great deal of effort for Ruby Winchester to arrive on the isle of Lornius. She had paid dearly for the so called privilege. Once again the grey haired matriarch found herself far from husband, and far from familiar territory. Everything about the island made her wretch; its people, its fashions, and most certainly its customs. It was exactly the sort of place she expected to be reunited with one Duffy Bracken, formerly esquire.

In the long hours after their arrival, they had been given a brief tour of the capital, or what sections of it they were allowed to see. They had been shown to their meagre quarters, and their meagre allowance of food and clothing for their stay. Ruby nodded politely, but the very second the steward had departed, she sung herself into a little more luxury than most of the other combatants in the deranged excuse for ‘sport’ would be used to. If she was going to get her boots dirty, after all, she was going to do it looking radiant.

Every step of the way, Logan McCloud, her unlikely ally, slowly began to become less irritating. Right from their formative meeting to their drunken (on her part) pre-registration collusion, her initial loathing for the psychic had begun to fade. By all means, everything about him put her teeth on edge, but now, she could do so without chipping her veneers. It was an improvement she was willing to consider as a positive step towards possibly, just maybe getting through this ordeal with at least their dignity intact.

“Would you do me a favour, Logan?” she said, quite suddenly. They had been unpacking their modest bags onto the ends of their respective beds in silence. Each had been methodical about their duties, for they had to present themselves to various financial investors in a regalia ball in a few hours.

The psychic looked up from his smalls, and shrugged. “But of course, Ruby.” He continued to unpack, though his body language told Ruby that he was very much listening.

“When we get out into the arena, whatever form it takes…” she hesitated. “I want you to do something that you might not consider…enjoyable.” The way she hesitated over the last word suggested she did not quite believe her assumption. Logan McCloud seemed like just the sort to enjoy the torment of a stubborn woman.

“Will it further our ends?” he replied.

Ruby nodded. “Immeasurably so, I’d wager.”

“Then for you, Ruby Winchester, Mrs, at that, I will break the bowels of the earthen gods.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow. “Was that a yes?” she asked, sarcasm bubbling up through the pit of her stomach. Logan chuckled. “I thought as much.” She hated it when men became more verbose around her. She was an actress, by all accounts a talented one, but this small chamber before a crowd of thousands was nowhere near a stage. Pretence would kill an unwary man, if he let it. “I am here for an objective I have not yet told you about.” Logan stopped doing what he was doing immediately. He rose, slowly, and turned to address her directly.

“I cannot say I am surprised…what might that be?”

Ruby Winchester had once challenged the very gods that spurned her into being, and survived the ordeal with nothing more than a new haircut and a constant throb in her temples. The ordeal that faced her in the morrow, on the other hand, would leave her significantly more scarred if she were not careful. Her body, she could almost certainly fix on her own. “I need you to make sure I stay focussed.”

A mind, on the other hand, could take centuries to truly heal.

“You want me, to help you stay focussed?” Logan’s disbelief could have broken spines and smashed skulls all on its own. He stared at the spell singer as the soft touch of sunlight faded at long last, and left the room in a momentary state of twilight. Oil lamps flickered to life in the absence of day, and the room began to warm and tingle with the scent of paraffin wicks burning in silence.

“I want you to make sure, that, no matter what…when I face Duffy Bracken…”

The silence intensified.

“Go on…” he said, salaciously. Her sultry glare and pout was as exciting as ever.

“That I kill him.”

Logan smiled.

"You're killing me with drama like this!" he chided.

Ruby stared.

“Oh, well...I'm sure I can do my best...” he said, the ever present danger of a curious man looming overhead. Why on earth would she want to hurt the one man Logan knew she trusted, save for her husband?

Finer details being worked out, any amendments will be minor.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

"Hmm?"

I tore my gaze away from the glass that enclosed the upper reaches of the Grande Lighthouse and glanced at my partner; the tiefling, as he called himself, was looking at me with his cold serpentine eyes in a manner that sent a slight chill down my spine. He casually flicked his fingers and lit another cigarette, slowly bringing it up to his smirking lips and taking a long drag before expelling another cloud of wispy gray smoke. I had considered telling him ten cigarettes and an hour ago that perhaps swords and magic wouldn't be his downfall on this forsaken piece of rock, but thought better of it.

"I asked ye' if you were ready," he rasped out between puffs of smoke.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I'm ready as I'll ever be."

Aurelianus snorted as he continued to check his gear, making sure that it was in tip-top shape for the slaughter that would certainly commence in minutes. I turned back towards the expanse of churning gray seawater that I had been absentmindedly staring at for the most of the time that the two of us had been up in the lighthouse's lantern room. There was no need to check my own gear, I had done so on the ferry ride from Lyridia. Wires, cloak and corset, sharp things of all sorts (my twin daggers, throwing knives, and even that dumpy little butterfly knife I purchased on a whim), two vials of paralyzing powder, and my fancy new knuckledusters--everything was accounted for and ready for action.

However, it wasn't the thrill of the battle that brought me here in the first place. Yes, I had reluctantly agreed to buddy up with the tiefling for the duration of this little tournament, but I had no interest in winning it. Ours was only a partnership of convenience. News had reached me that my brother Lucas was planning a trip to Lorinus in order to conduct a little bit of business in the slum that grew like a disease in the dark shadows of The Floating City. The Lorinus Corporate Challenge was simply an excuse for me to come to the island and hunt him down.

The plan was simple; during my spare time between fights, I'd leave Aurelianus to his own dark devices and terrible nicotine addiction to continue my investigation, searching for my dear brother until I could corner him and utterly destroy him. One bone broken for every irreplaceable tome that I lost in the fire he and mother started in my old bookstore that stormy night months ago.

As I continued to mentally plan out my investigation, the storm that had been brewing ever since our arrival at the lighthouse had picked up serious steam. Through the glass, I could hear the wind howling howling and the intense pounding of rain against the glass of the lantern room. There were no other sounds, save for Aurelianus's boots hitting the stone floor of the lighthouse and the grinding of iron gears as the jumble of lanterns and mirrors danced around the center of the room.

I heard my partner mumble something as he dropped his cigarette on the floor, grinding out the cinders with the heel of his leather boot. From the other end of the room, I could hear the faint clanking of footsteps against the steel steps that curved around the interior of the lighthouse, leading up to the lantern room where we awaited our opponents' arrival. I pulled my sifan cloak tighter around me, in an effort to warm myself up a spell before all hell would break loose. I turned toward the staircase and gave the glass-encased chamber a final once-over. There weren't very many places to hide, no place to gain a strategic advantage, save for hiding behind the rotating contraption that blasted beams of harsh, mirrored light out to sea.

I fumbled around with one of the steel throwing knives strapped to my right thigh as I offered my first bit of real conversation of this dark and dreary afternoon, my eyes locked on the only point of entry our opponents had.. "So then, what's the plan?"

[Logan]

The structure rose from the rocks impressively before the psion and his unexpected tournament companion. As stark the contrast of lighthouse to the island the Challenge called home, so too were the two partners. One a schmoozing mental manipulator, the other a talented thespian whose looks could kill and at some point most likely had. Yet there the two found themselves looking upon the lighthouse with a slight amazement.

“Well, shall we, m’lady,” he asked his companion fully aware of her impending response. The question held merit, but it needn’t be asked.

Ruby’s eyes rolled his direction. “Really? You have to ask,” she questioned the intent.

A smile pursed his stony-expression as he attempted to stifle a giggle. He took a few steps toward her, having kept his distance since the incident a short while previous.

“Ladies first,” he stated as his hand motioned for her to go on ahead.

“Don’t play coy with me,” she quipped back, “you just prefer the bottom.”

The only response she received was a shrug of his shoulders as his head motioned for her to ascend the stairs before them. The vision of the lighthouse itself was stunning enough, but when coupled with the shore and the expanse of water nearly endless opposite their direction it was simply picturesque.

Creak, creak, creak.

The next few words slipped from Logan’s lips unintended, “Is that your age catching up with you, Mrs. Winchester?”

Before he could ready himself, Ruby kicked backward landing a fairly hefty blow squarely between his legs. He fell forward smacking hard into the wood before him, blood trickling from his lips. Attempting to stand, he lost his balance, perhaps due to concussion or due to the sight of one Mrs. Ruby Winchester directly above him, and rolled backward down a half flight of stairs before slamming into the wooden wall with a thud.

He lifted his hand to his mouth and wiped at the blood. The thespian stood a few stairs above looking down upon the poor sod with a look of half disbelief, half humor at his predicament. Quickly, though, she realized her chances sat squarely with her companion, and she descended the stairs to help him to his feet.

“You really should be more careful, Mr. McCloud,” she said just as he spat a small amount of blood at her feet. She squealed in response, and his eyes burned through her with no remorse.

“I suppose I should count my blessings. ‘Tis only a flesh wound,” he said as he returned to making his way up the stairs. Ruby could only shake her head in exasperation. How the two of them ended up in this predicament was still lost upon the bewildered singer.

“You know by now I can take care of that, my dear,” her words almost seemed genuine to him, but he figured there was no chance Mrs. Winchester would ever be truly genuine.

He glanced down upon her with half-fury, half-curiosity before descending once more, “What else do I have for you to make magically disappear from my person?”

Her reply was as well delivered as any could be by a professional, “Your dignity?”

The two laughed together for a moment, before looking up the stairs once more.

“Oh, Mrs. Winchester, dear, how ever did I get on without you,” as he spoke he made a loop with his arm. Her hand slid inside the loop and lightly gripped his arm, but it was more to ensure he wouldn’t fall down the stairs again.

“Well, aren’t you a dear,” she asked entirely too dramatically for his taste. It was their lot, to team together and to attempt to defeat the best the world of Althanas could offer. Certainly not the easiest task, but it was a task nonetheless.

Logan smiled.

“I wonder what they will think of our matching birthday suits,” he asked.

[Ruby]

Ruby’s attire was less a birthday suit, and more a birthday gown. Though she was, for all intent and purpose, quite naked, her long greying hair fell down the spine, across the small of back, and flicked up in bouncy curls about the curvature of her backside. Standing side by side, and not remotely shy about it, they advanced about the final turn in the lighthouse’s colonnade of rickety stairs as though they were about to arrive at a debutante ball.

Of course, Ruby’s particulars had appeared at one too many balls. She had been to big balls, little balls, summer balls, and of course, her favourite, snow balls. Men had scrambled over the dance floors on three continents to be the first to offer her their hands. All she had gotten from Logan was a dirty look and a robust amount of crass witticisms about age and beauty, and her possession of both in ample measure. She had to hand it to him; so to speak, he did keep her on her toes.

In her left hand she carried with her the Violin De Mando . The instrument was almost as old as the island of Lornius itself, carried through time by some history’s greatest musicians, playwrights, and Bladesingers. From the first moment she set eyes on it, four centuries ago, it had carried a tune to her voice in far flung Raiaera, and even the depths of Haida. To come here, now, at such a pivotal event without it would have been an ill omen for the matriarch indeed.

“Do you remember what I told you about staying clear of me if things start to look hot, sticky, and a little moist?” she clucked. She had in fact said ‘if I explode or set myself on fire’, but his constant need to speak dirtily and weave innuendo into every other sentence was a perfect cause to do the same.

“You don’t need to ask twice, that’s for sure,” the psychic smirked. “Whatever happens, I will make sure to cover you in something –“

“Oh good lord,” Ruby said flatly, as they turned the last corner and come out into the light of the lighthouse’s uppermost chamber in unison.

Logan hesitated, but when he realised her exclamation was in response to the two figures standing side by side not too far away, and not his crudeness, he relaxed somewhat.

“Is there something wrong?” he enquired.

Ruby prodded a solitary digit at the woman opposite. It was, if her lacklustre ability at recalling names was anything to go by, a woman she did not want to run into.

“That is Madison Freebird.”

Logan looked the woman over.

“She’s a little too free, if you get what I –“he caught Ruby’s glare, which smouldered, and stopped mid-sentence.

“She is, for want of a better word, fucking nuts.” She pressed her finger against her lips before Logan could snigger. “The man,” she paused, looked him over, and then continued, “Whatever he is, and I’ve no volition about finding that out, is all yours.” She strode forwards, flapping in every possible way, and feet slapping bare against the floor.

“You really are dutiful to your husband,” Logan chuckled. He let the hum of his radix extend a few feet about his person, allowing him so room to breathe in his inner mind after their long ascent. He detected no immediate ability in their opponents that might work against him.

“You can sleep with him, if you’re into that sort of thing, but I would rather gut that bitch first.” She snapped back to Madison, and cocked her violin to her shoulder. She clicked her fingers as she closed the gap between parties, and conjured the violin’s bow to her fingertips. Bangles and ribbons dangle and chimed with bells at their tips as she adjusted it into position.

“Whatever turns you on…” he said meekly. Naturally, that comment continued to play out its own possibilities in the back of his mind.

Grey haired, wily, and not ashamed to bear all, she introduced herself. “Whatever you call yourselves, I don’t much care.” The first note reverberated through the chamber, rattled the panes, and rumbled in the paraffin. She really didn't care; she had an agenda at the tournament, and Madison would not get in her way. At the back of her mind, her defeat of Duffy months ago, though she scorned the bard now, riled her up even more than she would admit.

“Especially not about a small inconsequential mageling,” Logan added, following Ruby in her stride with equal abandonment of his low-slung manhood’s exposure to the altitude. He finally recognised the tiefling for who he was, but did not think it wise to attempt to eclipse’s Ruby’s rage against the woman with tales of scorn and loathing of his own. At least not yet.

“We are Fifty Shades of Grey.”

“As you can clearly see.” Logan said, pointing a finger downwards. His gesture left nothing to the imagination.

The violin continued to play off its own accord off the back of the opening note, until Ruby pushed down on the bow and let rip with a staccato rhythm that bordered on the deranged. The strings began to glow, as infused with soul fire, and the flames grew quickly about the ageing, enchanted wood.

[Aurelianus Drak'shal]

**"So then, what's the plan?"**

Aurelius glanced at his partner, raising an eyebrow quizzically. His three obsidian eyebrow rings caught the firelight as the lantern made another rotation. He considered the question as pretty leather-headed, but he answered her anyway.

"Easy, Bright Eyes. They come up those stairs, make their smart-arsed boasts," he paused smirking. "Then I roast 'em alive. Sound like a plan?" he asked rhetorically. Normally he would have been more of a smart arse, but his pointed ears pricked up- he could hear muffled talking, and footsteps on the metal stairs. His playthings were here.

Whatever Aurelius had been expecting to walk up those stairs.. that wasn't it.

Before his eyes, the pair of opponents strode onto the top floor, facing Aurelius and Madison. And both were completely stark-bollock naked. As he regarded the nude pair before him, his eyes were automatically drawn to the woman; she looked a bit older than him, with the gray hair, but as his forked tongue ran over his lips, a single thought entered his mind- When we beat 'em, I am so fuckin' that. For an older bird, she had not bad tits on her, but Aurelius mentally shook himself. he was getting distracted. He barely glanced at the man, but when he did, a feral grin split his face.

It was none other than Logan, the sod he'd hacked up in the Citadel a few weeks back. He winked at the cutter, fangs still bared.

**“That is Madison Freebird.”**

Aurelius snickered, muttering to his companion, "this bird a mate o' your's?"

For whatever reason, the chit seemed concerned about his partner's presence. If they had bad blood between them, so much the better. Aurelianus had come here for the bloodshed- he didn't want any messing around- he wanted to kill, plain and simple.

**“The man,”** she said, looking at Aurelius, who replied with a lascivious flick of his black tongue, **“Whatever he is, and I’ve no volition about finding that out, is all yours.”**

Yeah, that worked out for 'im last time, the tiefling sneered, eyes darting between the pair, peery of any sudden attacks; they were obviously trying to wrong-foot and distract Aurelius and Madison, but the warlock had seen dozens of naked women in the past year, so it didn't faze him overly. All in all, he just relished the chance to get at the chit without having to strip any clothing or armour out of the way first; and judging by the way she acted so casually, she was no stranger to being naked in front of groups. Even as the thought entered his brain-box, the chit came closer and raised a violin of all things, spiriting a bow out of... well, I'll find that out in good time, he mused.

**“Whatever you call yourselves, I don’t much care.”**

Aurelius sighed, letting out an almighty yawn. He wanted a bit more action, not all this rattling of their bone-boxes. But, he didn't let loose quite yet- he was having too much fun eye-raping the chit. But, as she drew the bow across the strings, Aurelius' quills stood up, his senses reeling with the delicious tang of magick in the air. The note rattled even the thick glass of the windows, assuring the warlock this was no hedge-wizard he was dealing with.

**“Especially not about a small inconsequential mageling,”**

Logan's words burned into Aurelianus' brain-box, written in letters of flaming white rage. Before he could even think, the tiefling was snapping back at him, fangs gnashing in fury.

"I'm not a pikin' mage!!" he snarled, fists tensing so loud they sent audible cracks through the warm stone chamber, his leather gloves creaking. "I ain't some petty little spellslinging berk. Mark me, I am a pikin' Hell-spawned WARLOCK!!" he snarled, thick drool running between his fangs as his quills quivered with rage. His eyes were almost glowing in the light as the lantern turned again, it's well-oiled gears purring.

"I already penned you in the dead-book once, you arrogant wanker. I'm gladly goin' to do it again."

**“We are Fifty Shades of Grey.”**

The woman introduced her team, before Logan cut in with his piece.

**“As you can clearly see.”**

Aurelius loosened his knives in their sheaths at his back, but didn't draw them yet. He kept his eyes firmly on Logan's, before they flicked away to scan the chit.

She let loose with a screeching rhythm on the violin, setting Aurelius' fangs on edge. He didn't mind a bit of music every now and then, but by the Powers, he had never tumbled to the appeal of that bloody instrument. But even as he realised it wasn't the instrument setting his teeth on edge, he saw the fire spreading around the wood of the violin. Still thoroughly piked off at the "mage" comment, this was the straw that broke the camel's back. Aurelius lost his temper.

"You little whoresons want to play with fire?" he growled, the sound reverberating deep in his throat. "Fine by me."

With that, he lashed out with his hands, roaring cones of black Hellfire erupting in a searing conflagaration towards each of the naked people before him. He thrust out his hands, pouring all his willpower and hate into Shahab's Lash, wanting nothing more than to incinerate these arrogant sods and piss on their ashes.

[BlackAndBlueEyes]

The more feminine of the two was right; "Oh good lord," indeed.

I was prepared for anything. Half demons like my partner Aurelianus, wandering adventurers with a glinting smile and a self-important sense of destiny, werethings of many varieties, brooding sorcerers with tomes of spells at their command; even the unlikely return of some terror like Teric Bloodrose or Joshua Cronen.

But the ascent of two butt-ass naked combatants, arm in arm, was not something I expected. And it shames me, Madison the Professional, to say it... But it completely threw me off my game.

Whereas I'm certain the sight of the woman in the nude was causing a little bloodflow problem for my tiefling companion, it made me cringe. Full disclosure: I've never been comfortable with the naked human body. There's just something about it that I find incredibly ugly. The slight bent of the average... The shriveled, darkened hue of the man's... The completely alien look of the girl's... Ergh. But to be presented with two naked opponents... I wanted to throw up just thinking about it. I could feel my mind starting to shut down. I wanted to just turn away and discontinue the battle; at least until our opponents had the decency to come back with proper gear on.

Focus, Maddy. No clothes simply means no armor. That's a plus, right? You know that your wires can travel faster than they probably can. Just lash out, choke 'em to death, and get on with your investigation.

Another thing I didn't expect was that the silver-haired woman apparently knew who I was. I was certain that I have never seen her before in my life. Was she the widow of one of my old marks? No, probably not; no witnesses was a common stipulation for me. Someone I had double-crossed some time in my past? Perhaps--but highly unlikely. I wanted to ask really bad where she knew me from; but there I stood, frozen and dumbstruck as the two rambled on, unable to unleash the throwing knife hidden by my sifan cloak. In hindsight, I was so stupid for standing there for what seemed like hours, tightening my grip around the steel hilt until my knuckled turned white. I could've killed both of them during their stupid little dialogue at any point, if it weren't for... Errgh.

The third thing that caught me off-guard was the slow realization that I knew the man. Logan McCloud was his name. I offered my services to him recently to help rebuild the Bandit Brotherhood; an effort that was well underway, but still had some time before completion. We had gotten to know each other just a little bit, but we weren't close. I forced myself to make eye contact with him and offer a friendly nod. Not once did my eyes leave his.

It was then that the screeching hiss of a bow striking a violin shook the lantern chamber, pounding the glass windows in time with the sheets of rain that fell outside. One of the mirrors that shone bright beams of light out to sea to warn sailors of the perilous approach formed a slight crack in the middle. My attention was suddenly focused on the woman. The violin burned brightly in her hands as she played. Crackling flames engulfed it, giving off a warm red glow as the flames grew and grew.

I had heard of this kind of magic before, during my time studying at the Radasanth Grand Library. Spellsong. I never quite grasped the concepts of it, especially considering my lack of talent with music. But I had encountered something like it once before--in a terrible Citadel battle, actually, where I faced some guy named Duffy in a battle that ended up tearing apart the magics that the monks used to construct the arena and gave me the nasty scar that adorned both sides of my right hand.

"I am not dealing with your theatrical bullshit today!" The shriek of my voice nearly overpowered the violin's own terrible notes as I began a three-pronged assault on the woman. In one swift motion, I focused my will into my wires, snaking them out of the ends of my black blouse sleeves and commanding each end to wrap itself around the hilt of one of my daggers. I threw back the fabric of my cloak as the daggers were unsheathed. As I deftly whipped the steel throwing knife at the woman's heaving chest, the right wire guided one of my twin delyn daggers through the air, aiming to knock the violin out of the woman's hands at the very least. The left wire flew through the air, first at a downward angle before suddenly curving up, hoping to embed my second dagger right in the woman's hatchet wound that sat invitingly between her legs.

[Logan]

Before Logan could give Ruby reason to hold her tactic, she was well in the midst of an all-out assault upon his Sister, Madison Freebird. The best strategy he possessed was simple: distraction. What was the psion without his precious prevalida? Truth be told, there in his barest of forms he wasn’t well-equipped.

Pipsqueak, put your tongue back in its holster. You’re freaking the Lady out, he merely hoped to infuriate the tiefling further.

One thing he knew how to do was get under the skin of others. Whether intended or not, Logan was one of the best at mind games. The fire came closer and closer as Aurelianus let loose with every ounce of hatred, and yet the psion stood his ground. No fear, no movement, only a smile in response. He knew the tiefling would seethe like never before at the thought.

As the fire erupted all around him, he stood. As the fireball finally came to an end, the smile remained.

“What’s the matter, lizard-boy? I guess I still have a few tricks up my -- ,” he paused for a moment to contemplate before continuing, “Well, I suppose I don’t have any sleeves. You’ll just have to imagine where I pull my tricks from this go’round.” He wiggled his hips, enticingly.

The smile beamed as brightly as the streaks of sunshine which broke through the clouds and began to reflect off the broken mirror at the center of the room. The reflection was blinding.

Completely ignoring the tiefling and any further advancements he may have made, Logan’s calves flexed and he dug down into the floorboards with the balls of his feet. A blast erupted outward with significant force as the psion leapt in Ruby’s direction. It took only seconds to reach his teammate and his momentum carried both of them out one of the windows. He didn’t care what she thought at that moment, he just wanted her safe.

His arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly as his eyes closed. Their deaths upon the rocks would have been swift, were it not for his focus on the water just beyond their position. Internally, he pulled with all the might his mind could muster and the water began to churn. First a small wave, and then a larger one roared against the rocks and then finally over them. The final feet of their descent passed without another thought as the water swallowed them whole and contorted to soften the impact as much as possible.

With a thud, they had hit the ground, none the worse for the wear, though. Logan was the first to rise to his feet, holding out his hand with a shrug.

“Guess you’re not the only one who can get wet.”

[Ruby]

Ruby opened her eyes. She had closed them when she realised she was about to be struck by a spinning flock of blades. When she gazed up at the radiant sky of Lornius, she could only piece together a strange serious of sounds.

“Get.” She began her voice flat and sullen, “Your hands.” She swatted Logan’s appendages from her intimate parts, “off of me!”

If it were not for the fact that the psychic had just saved her life, and for the fact he was her team mate, she would have conjured her elven blade into her palm and gutted him, there and then. She was have enjoyed the glimmer of light in his smug eyes die before her, and she would have relished the tearing sound a blade being turned in a stomach made. She settled for a woman’s next best victory.

Logan fell to the floor seconds after the well-aimed kick.

“It is oh so very lucky, Mr McCloud, that my violin has a mind of its own…” she seethed. Had it not, it would have shattered against the rocks or been swept away with the tidal surge she had only assumed was Logan’s handiwork.

“Grrrr,” he grumbled, hands cupped over his particulars, and eyes watering ironically. Though the psychic commanded the elements, his own liquids were out of his astute control.

Ruby looked up at the lighthouse’s pinnacle. From the bottom, it loomed overhead, the distance and time of day distorted its shaft so that it bent, a refraction of light and height. She was not looking forward to making the climb again, not one bit. She reflected for a moment whilst her colleague rose, gingerly stepping away from her, just in case.

“Don’t worry; I’m quite satisfied with one blow. I’ll moisten myself properly in the bar after we pull this back into our favour.” A flash of flame, the lingering magic of her spell song shone brightly, and then died. Whatever effects she had started to have over the arena were now distant memories. She clapped. The violin appeared once more in a bright crackle of white lightning. It landed into her grip, and she cocked it without as much as a pause. “I don’t think we managed to faze them quite as much as I’d hoped.” She raised an eyebrow. “So, let’s cover up that excuse for a man and see if we can’t put this right…”

Logan nodded in agreement. Their somewhat inebriated discourse in the tavern some weeks before had ended on a high. They giggled at the thought of entering naked, showing themselves up to the whole of the island, and especially to whomsoever stood opposite them on the field of battle. It was a shame it had to end. He raised an eyebrow, “it’s a none too pretty site from my perspective too.”

She stuck out her tongue, and as she played the first note of the Conjuring Cantor, she began to sing. Logan, knowing the tune from her instruction, rested his hands on his sagging hips, let the psychic energies surging through his body post the effluence of his salvation wave drain away, and began to feel the water evaporate from his torso as the sun beat down onto the rocky shore lapsed by the unpredictable ocean.

“Forthright and merrily we met, drunken, dangerous, regret,” she increased her pitch as she rolled gently through a rising scale, “our story here begins anew, ablaze with luck and happenstance,” she dropped again, “let us hope my dearest Logan Esquire, that it ends in death’s romance.”

With a tremble, both halves of Fifty Shades of Grey felt a breeze that made no movements in the air. They felt warmth not caused by the sun. At first, it was almost like a dream, but by the time Ruby hit the end of the second verse, it was immeasurable. Something, somewhere, was rushing straight towards them through the mercury and phantasmal realm of The Aria; the place from which Ruby drew her power.

“Thus the heroes were born anew, clad in silk and cotton gold, to fight again another day, to live to hear their story told. Thus the matriarch and man, entwined in legacies unseen, did rise to the heights of the golden spire, to wipe the bitches face quite clean.” The verse was far from professional, and in places, the rhyme didn’t quite work. The emotion pushed into it hammer blow, on the other hand, told the spell all it needed to know, made it feel all it needed to feel to work as intended.

On the ground between them, neatly folded and freshly laundered, two small bundles of clothing appeared. Both were simple black slacks and a white blouse for Ruby, and a white shirt for Logan. They were small, lightweight, and possessed no protective qualities beyond the salvation of dignity. Ruby let the song’s finale teeter out whilst Logan leant down, arse crack revealed to the undignified sun, before she set the violin onto the rocks and dressed herself. When she was covered up, she drew on The Aria once more to fetch the bangles and chains with which she could secure her violin over her shoulder, and then clapped her hands together with a triumphant decree.

“Let’s try that again, and this time, let’s not uppity Miss Freebird, and the astutely and criminally virile man she calls an ally get the better of us, shall we?” Ruby plucked the ancient sword from the air as it formed out of nothingness and myth, and with its glistening, enraged tip, she pointed back to the lighthouse’s entrance. “This time, you can go first.” She commanded, not feeling particularly inclined to have him stare at her all the way up the spire again.

"Leave Madison to me. Without my weapons, I am all but useless. I hold some trumps in this game of cards, but only so long as i square off against Ms. Freebird alone." He said, walking on.

Ruby shrugged. "Oh alright, I guess I have to deal with that wretch's advances sometime..." she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, remembering the time the incubus named Avery had followed through on his own attractions to her significantly younger self. She shuddered, and pushed the thought from her mind. She would not allow that to happen again.

Anal McCloud wishes me to state content may alter slightly later today.