Ifrit versus Ifrit

[Seth_Rahl]

I'd like to note that this takes place after all of my other threads, including Stupified, Breaking the Silence, Burning by Mistake, etc...

Another note. This is open to either one level 3 or higher character, two level two characters, or up to 3 level 0 characters. For information, please check out my recruitment thread.

Two months it had been since Ifrit last visited the Citadel. Two whole months of training, constant, unending training, brutal and mind breaking. Any other man weak of heart, mind or spirit would have quit and subsided, but Ifrit was not one of those, and the Bladewraiths had no place for those of weak spirits. Which is why he had decided to go back to Akashima for his training.

Ifrit clenched his fist inside the gauntlet protecting his right arm, felt heat burning through as he clenched his teeth at the memory of what the Bladewraiths had put him through. It had been nearly unbearable. Working him day and night, without stop or rest barely, and food and drink being supplied to him as if he were a prisoner. He had had just about enough of it, but then the memories came flooding back to him from two months ago, and he simply gritted his teeth and pushed onward.

That battle...the battle between him and the Lucis twins...it had made Ifrit seriously reconsider his views not only on himself but on the world around him. He had been weak. That...that other Ifrit had been right. The bastard. The fucking bastard. But he had been right. Ifrit had lost--even though he had torn the girl's throat out, felt her hot blood spilling out, could taste it as he licked his lips...he had lost. If it hadn't been for his ally, Beniiro, whom he had no idea why the nekojin had been there, Ifrit had been afraid he would have lost what humanity he had left.

Sighing, the demon looked up at the towering form of the Citadel as he shrugged off the blade from his back, the giant falchion that had accompanied him everywhere since he could remember. It had been his namesake and his drive, his purpose for this whole journey. Now it would either make or break this upcoming battle.

The stairs seemed endless as Ifrit took them step by step silently, head bowed, his raven hair drooping over his bloody red eyes as he continued on, never breaking stride. An eerie calm seemed to have come over the arena: Even the monks stood silently as Ifrit reached the final steps, glancing at the door ahead with apprehension. He beckoned over one of the monks, who came silently on quick feet, and leaned over to whisper in the older man's ear. The monk nodded and motioned for one of the other monks to follow him, a younger man with a cane. The pair strode off around the corner, dissapearing from Ifrit's sight.

A few moments later the door creaked open, but instead of the glowing light or darkness that usually accompanied it, the door simply opened to reveal a small room. Without hesitation Ifrit strode into this room and shut the door behind him.

Inside there was a chair in the middle of the room, a simple, plain wooden chair. What made it catchy to the eye though were the chains that were wrapped around it, and there were latches, leather bindings, around the legs and arms of the chair. Sorrounding the chair were six pillars, each covered with a special akashiman sealing charm.

Ifrit had requested this room because it was the only safe place he could conduct the upcoming battle in. Not for his own safety, but the safety of others. Stepping forward he descended down the small steps leading to the center of the room and sat in the chair, placing the blade upon his lap.

The ornaments adorning the chair seemed to spring to life, as the latches and the chains began moving themselves, wrapping around the demon tighter, tighter, until he could feel the leather cutting into his skin and the chains biting like cold fangs. Around him, the six pillars began rumbling to life, and soon they too began moving with a life of their own. Literally. Soon they began growing human shapes and body parts until not six pillars of stone but six men of stone stood silently around the demon, hands folded behind their backs.

The Six Guards of Santuary. Ifrit had heard about them from a fellow Citadel member but had never really experienced them until tody. The Six Guards were usually used for lawbreaking Citadel fighters or those banned from the Citadel but still kept in custody, to prevent violence from spreading.

Sighing loudly Ifrit cleared his throat as well, before trying to make himself comfortable in the stiff wooden chair. He took a couple moments to adjust himself to the feel of the chair before looking up and closing his eyes. "I'm ready." He spoke, and as if by magic a jolt of electricity shot through the chair and into his body, and immediately he fell unconcious.
____________________________________

When he came to, he was in that same white space he could remember from the last time, stretching on for eternity. It was so real it seemed unreal, as if he could touch it but then fall through nothing. At first all he saw was the white, the endless space, but then a rumbling coming from behind him made his back stiffen and grab his sword tightly.

He didn't turn around, but suddenly he heard a cocky, malicious voice cackle as it spoke. "Howdy, partner. You don't look too excited to see me."
_________________________________________

Back in the room, Ifrit's body began changing, and soon twin wings, crimson and bloody, exploded from out of his back, ripping through the shirt. The latches on the chair exploded as Ifrit's form grew, his muscles expanding, and the chains popped off as if they were buttons. Standing up, the coat that he had been wearing slowly began dying itself red with blood, and emitting from this demon's mouth a low cackle came. The stone guardians then rushed the demon all at once, sensing danger.

Within seconds, every single one of them had been shattered, and pieces of them lay broken on the floor. The demon roared in pure bloodlust as it flapped its wings and opened its fangs, the crimson eyes glowing like twin burning flames.

"Oh God..." one of the newer monks to the Citadel gasped as he saw the transformed Ifrit. "He'll kill everyone here!"

"Not quite." The other, older and more experienced one said, stroking his mustache in thought. "Do we have any experienced fighters on hand right now?"

The younger man took his time thinking before saying, "Yes, we have one but--"

"Then go get them! And tell them what the hell they are up against, alright?"

The other man simply nodded before scurrying off.

As the younger man left, the older man sighed and ran his coarse hands through his hair. The monks would usually have no problem dealing with a threat this minor--they had handled harder, more uncontrollable beings in the past. But today was a bad day for the monks: Today was the day in which they had to rest their abilities, only being able to use them limitedly.

If the warrior that the other monk had fetched could hold the demon off for at least until nightfall, then everything would be fine. But today was the Day of Meteor, and the old monk shivered as he thought of what that meant.

[Abomination]

I'm making use of some of his former 2nd post to make mine. This has been approved.

It had only been a day or so since Viral's encounter with Teric Bloodrose. It seems that in terms of his mission, he had failed to control his assimilation. Thus, he was left with only one option: Go back and try again. He simply had no capacity to consider any other option. Although, he was beginning to feel some serious repercussions to these repeated assimilations. At times he felt fidgety, and he developed thoughts wholly alien to his being. Sometimes he felt like he had an inner thought process deep inside his psyche, one that plotted against his master. There was also the issue of his missing weapon.

Viral had been waiting for an opponent in one of The Citadel's many lobbies. From a thin hallway came a young monk, to seek the counsel of an older one. After a few moments of speaking, the older one pointed to Viral. The young one looked at Viral for a few moments, but seemed incredulous and argued with the older one.

"We do not judge here, young one. Above all, we are observers. If there is a fight to be had and our involvement is not necessary, we are instructed to sit and watch."

Bowing deeply, the younger monk walked over to Viral and stated, "Your opponent is prepared. You... had no preference for one, correct? Are you sure you want to do this?"

Viral made no reply, which did nothing but put more doubt into the young monk's mind, but he knew that nothing here was going to be fatal. He took The Homunculus to where Ifrit was kept. Along the way, Viral heard a loud explosion rock the hallway he was in. His instincts flared up, and he sensed the presence of Ifrit. He knew that it was him, he knew that his opponent would be this presence.

"This is where I leave you," said the younger monk, now visibly shaken, "This entire area we are in is empty for the duration of your... fight. I shall take my leave now."

With that, he bowed and scurried off, leaving Viral alone with this unknown being. This was a different arrangement than he had before, as now he was the one who arrived second into the arena. Although, this arena was much different than his previous location. He was in a long, marble hallway. There were many doors that lead to smaller hallways, and he knew that Ifrit would emerge from one of them. In fact, he did. A door burst open down the hall, and it smashed into the wall across from it, cracking and sending splinters flying. Viral didn't have a good feeling about this, this was unlike anything he had seen before.

"Shouldn't we interfere? We just sent a man to his doom," asked the young monk, still unconvinced of the elder one's decision.

The elder one put his hand upon the younger one's shoulder, "Never judge a book by its cover, lad. We can easily restrain either of them if we so chose. If there's one thing I've learned in my many years here, it's that the people who walk through these doors don't have their histories written in front of them. I believe that anything is possible."

Viral was still as the smoke cleared from the now-open doorway, and the form of the devil that had dwelled inside came out, snarling. Its visage had been contorted so now it had more demonic features than human, a long prehensile tail extending from its back end and giant wings, bloody red and dripping blood, flapped as the thing snarled, flecks of spit flying from its fanged mouth. Crimson eyes stared out from the monster's eye sockets as, even as the Viral watched on with horror, it grew twin horns from the top of its forehead.

Fear become his primary form of communicating with the outside world, but it was quickly suppressed by his Enslavement. His mission was more important than his life, or so he thought. Holding his hands out, he assumed a defensive stance taught to him by his master, Luc Kraus. Before he knew what was happening, the form of the devil suddenly turned into a red blur as it moved forward, roaring like a lion as it came. His memory came in handy here, as he knew that he was taught by Luc Kraus to defend against such an attack. The demon seemed like it almost had Viral when The Homunculus suddenly jumped into the air, somersaulting over the demon and landing cleanly. In such close proximity, Viral nearly felt the full effect of the rage and chaos apparent in the demon's mind. Making use of his past experiences, he took the initiative and charged the demon from behind, pulling his fist back for a hard slam into the monster's face.

[Seth_Rahl]

Metal clashed against metal as the obsidian skinned, white haired form of his enemy dashed around him, becoming a red and black blur in Ifrit's eyes. And yet, Ifrit could stilll see his opponent clearly, or he must've have, as each of his opponent's blows were matched by his own. I'm in trouble...Ifrit thought to himself as he held his giant sword still, waiting for another attack to come. The most I can do is defend against Obsidian's attacks. He's not lettin' me get one in at all.

Ifrit had named his opponent that from his obsidian skin. After all, he couldn't just keep on calling the bastard "other Ifrit", as Ifrit wasn't even sure that this thing was himself. He was even less sure when the devil attacked, using unorthodox tactics that the Bladewraith had never even seen before, like spinning through the air before landing a ground-crushing strike or using the blade like a rapier, whereas the falchion was meant for cleaving, not piercing. Obsidian had already inflicted two wounds on Ifrit using these strange tactics, and the Bladewraith knew that unless he himself did something different then it would be no use even trying.

Still, Obsidian did not let him even get in one attack. With speed that astounded the devil and strength that went far beyond Ifrit's, the monster was slowly but surely wearing him down.

--------------------------------------------------------

The devil smiled as the young man attacked him, an evil smile that would have made regular men shake in fear. In fact, the younger monk, watching this battle, did so indeed, and he clutched his cane ever warily.

The fist connected, but it was nothing to the leather-like skin of the devil, who laughed in two voices as spun around and launched itself in the air again, the air heating up around the beast as it flew forward, until suddenly it ignited into flame and became a whirlwind of inferno.

[Abomination]

He felt his fist connect, but it was like hitting a brick wall. The demon merely laughed and flew up for another attack. Viral braced himself, not for the attack, but for the assimilation. At any moment now, he would transform into something else and this time he was going to control it. But, nothing happened.

The flames spun around the demon and the tip of the fires spanned the entire breadth of the hallway. There was... no way to avoid this. Looking around desperately, he spotted a door and body slammed into it, knocking it down and falling to the ground on top of it. The flames licked at the doorway as the demon flew by, and Viral was left with his lack of assimilation.

Interesting...

Viral looked around in a panic. Where did that voice come from?

In your head.

Getting up, Viral felt around his head, attempting to find some creature latching onto it.

You absorbed a physical incarnation of a being, not the actual one. In short, it's an inner self that's being outwardly expressed right now. And... that's what you got, or in other words, you got me. I am the amalgam of the various personalities you absorbed, with Luc's... influence... being quite dominant. From my hefty tomes of Luc's knowledge you unknowingly absorbed, I can detect something going on within that demon. Activity that is quite similar to what I'm doing to you. I guess you could call me a Virus.

Viral felt strange, and walking back out to the hallway, he felt his body changing. Wings similar to the demon's, but smaller, grew out and ripped through his shirt and coat and his eyes turned completely red.

It seems that the original owner of that body is still in there somewhere, so you ended up absorbing part of it anyway.

"I..." Viral spoke up, trying to formulate a sentence, "Who.. you think... are... impersonating me?" He said the sentence in a voice similar to a young Teric Bloodrose, almost entirely quoting his own words, but then he spoke again in a more feminine voice, "Animal... Get off... !"

Your synaptic reflexes are underdeveloped. It seems your mind has reached its limit in attempting to express itself. How about this: I want this process to remain permanent; I want to stick around. So, I'm going to help you.

Viral was hopelessly confused, but now the voice stopped. He now felt compelled to do a certain task. His hair turned black and purple flames started dancing around his hands. Following the thoughts being put into his head, he pulled his hands back as if to throw something, and then flung his arms forward, sending a ball of purple flames at the demon. After the attack, he immediately felt drained of energy. He felt nauseous. His right arm wouldn't stop shaking.

"Get off me... " He spoke in Teric's voice, to no one in particular.

Not waiting to see the results of his attack, he charged at his demonic foe and held his right arm out, which was now shaking violently. Suddenly, a blade ripped through the palm of his hand and he gripped the bloody handle at the end of its emergence. The blade was covered in blood, and the wound in his palm closed up almost immediately after the sword came out. He was being guided by the mysterious thoughts again, thoughts that seemed to know more about him than himself. The weapon was inside his body this whole time!

Of course it was. Where did you think it was?

Shaking his head, Viral held onto the sword tighter and swung it from his right side in the direction of the demon.

[Seth_Rahl]

The devil laughed as its attack had missed, and immediately it stopped spinning in the air and reversed direction, laughing like a mad being the entire time. This is not good. The younger monk thought to himself nervously as he watched the battle unfold. It's beginning to actually think now, instead of relying on pure instinct. Whatever this thing is, its gotta go down fast.

Suddenly the boy that the devil was fighting seemed to be struggling with something as he flung himself against the door to avoid the attack. As he struggled to get up, he started speaking in short, clipped sentances, and to the monk's horror the boy started turning into the creature itself.

Now this was new for the devil being. It stood and watched with burning red eyes as the boy began growing parts similar to itself, including the wings, skin, hair, and even the being's eyes. The monks gasped in revelation as they saw what was being done. A shaper shifter? They each thought, until the boy suddenly launched a ball of demonic fire at the devil, who merely looked on in surprise.

That is until the devil held out its own right arm and the fire launched from the boy's absorbed straight into it. "Not bad, for a copycat." The creature spoke, and the younger monk gasped.

"It has intelligence?!" the younger monk demanded of the older one, who merely watched on with the eyes of a verteran.

"But I gotta say, if ya thought that would kill me, your--" The imitation demon suddenly interrupted the devil's speech by speeding forward with a blade that came out of the palm of his hand, the wound closing up again before he swung that blade at the devil with all his might from the right side.

The devil didn't even try to dodge however, and just before the blade would cut him it caught the blade in between two claws, holding the shaking blade still. "Pathetic." It murmured, and with a motion faster than the human eye could follow ripped a path through the air with its claws to gouge the imitation's heart out.

------------------------------------

Again the giant blade slammed into his own, and the devils were like twin blades as they leapt and attacked, giant falchions cutting through the air itself as they turned and struck, turned and struck. To the casual observer it would have seemed that they were equally matched, but to anyone else they would have been able to see what was really going on.

Ifrit was losing again. While his opponent must've had unlimited stamina, he could feel his own draining constantly. Backwards he was being pressed, and his senses were constantly screaming out warnings of danger, even when he was safe. So he couldn't rely on them anymore, all he had was his own skills and luck on his side.

"What's the matter, Ifrit?" Obsidian taunted him as it cackled, white hair flowly like snow as it struck and struck again, each blow being barely blocked by Ifrit's upheld blade. "Ya seem a lil' off today!!"

"Shut the fuck up." Ifrit responded in turn, and used all his strength to slam his own blade against his opponent's, bringing them to a deadlock, Ifrit snarling into Obsidian's wicked smile. "Your nothing but a figment of my imagination. Nothing more."

"Oh really?" Obsidian smiled even wider as it increased it's strength, and once again Ifrit found himself being pushed back. "You better fix that before this figment KILLS ya!" And suddenly Ifrit was being sent flying once more.

[Abomination]

As the blade was caught by the demon, Viral found that he couldn't move it from its captured position. Attempting to retrieve the blade in vain by pulling as hard as he could, he was caught off guard by the next attack. He felt a sharp impact with his chest, and within a moment several of his ribs had been broken through and a demonic hand placed itself around his heart. Then, as soon as it had reached in to take his heart, it was gone. The Homunculus had a gaping hole in his chest, and all the color was fading from his body as blood poured out through his chest. He lost his grip on his sword.

He wondered if that inner voice of his was driving him towards his own destruction.

Of course I am. I know how The Citadel works. If you lose, you can't fight off the virus. Thus, my existence will be secured. Did you think I would help you win this? No, then I would be gone forever.

His body had no pulse. He felt like all the blood would simply drain from his body, but it stopped. The ruptured veins and arteries stretched and split and wrapped around each other in a ball, and from inside the ball came a thump. Viral's entire body shook, and he felt the blood rush back throughout his body.

"Get off me," he repeated in his Teric voice, "You manky bastard."

There was another thump, and Viral jumped back to avoid any further attacks from the demon. He was nowhere near a condition to fight now, but...

Persistent, aren't we? No matter, I'll make sure you lose before that demon disappears.

What?

Oh great... I don't have any inner thoughts, do I? You hear everything I think. Fine, no more thinking. I'm taking direct control again.

The demon was going to disappear? That means... there was a time limit to this? Viral just knew that if the demon disappeared, the monks would help him, just like last time after Teric disappeared. Viral felt more thoughts inserted into his head as his own, and he charged at the demon again with the gaping hole in his chest.

The inner thought was too distracting, and it stopped him from thinking about something very important: If the assimilation was a success, shouldn't his mission be over? He had, at the very least, some parts of this demon and remained in control of himself. Unfortunately, his knowledge, if any, was of Ifrit, and not this Obsidian standing in front of him. Wait, how did he know that? Since the assimilation more or less succeeded, does that mean he has some access to his opponent's memories? Yes... in fact, the exact same situation he was in had already happened to Ifrit before. What was the conclusion?

Viral stopped, and tried to pull whatever he could out of the recesses of his assimilated mind, speaking in a voice equal to Obsidian's, "Be stronger, or I will kill ya, and take your throne for myself."

Viral felt odd, and in a flash his skin turned black as coal.

I lost control! What are you doing...? Stop!

"Done already?" Viral taunted, his voice still the same as Obsidian's.

[Seth_Rahl]

"BURST!" Ifrit screamed, and a broiling mass of flame erupted from his right gauntlet. It was massive, being over 6 feet tall and wide, and screamed as it was conjured, a scream that seemed to echo the pain of a thousand souls. Ifrit's face gritted in pain and agony at the effort of creating so massive a fireball that it rent the air around it, and fangs slid out from his canines and his eyes became slits.

"Fuck you, bastard." Ifrit growled, his voice changing by the moment. He clutched his gauntleted right arm with his left as he concentrated, and his hair flew backwards in the pressure that the fireball was emanating. "This is MY story, and you sure aren't the hell in it." He did not know where these words were coming from, but he felt as if they were the right ones.

His opponent stood a little ways off, looking at the spectacle with genuine interest. It's obsidian skin glowed from the heat of the intense fireball and its eyes glowed in exitement. "It seems you've found what you were lacking..." The devil spoke in approval. "You lacked what all true warriors need to survive: will. The will to fight. That's what makes us stronger!"

"Didn't I just tell you to SHUT THE FUCK UP!?" Ifrit roared, and the flame broiling before him pulsed a little bit. "I don't give a damn about the will to fight or survive or any of that crap--all that matters is that stay out of my fuckin' head!" And with this he pointed his claws, and the flame, at the obsidian skinned warrior before him, who held its own blade at the ready.

"Then prove to me ya' got what it takes!" The demon crowed in delight, as a demonic aura sorrounded its own body.

______________________________

The devil's body pulsed, and suddenly it clutched its head as it began snarling again. "Shit shit shit shit..." Was all the monks heard before those words turned to uncomprenhisible syllables and words, and suddenly the devil's own face began changing, until it lost all resemblance of humanity and took on the look of a bloodthirsty monster.

Satan. The word echoed out throughout both of the monk's minds, and the older one whispered to the younger one, who nodded quickly as he rushed away. Calmly, the older monk began chanting as he held the palms of his hands together in what he hoped what would be the beginning of one of the most powerful sealing spells he knew. But since the Meteor was still soaring up above, his powers and abilites were weakened considerably, so this was a gamble he had to take.

The creature that had now lost all hope of sanity turned to the shapeshifter with slits for eyes and cackled like a monster, a rumbling filling the air. Suddenly, it pointed one finger, with claws as sharp as steel, at the imitation, and dropped its "heart" that it had been holding in the other. In a scream that the monk assumed to be words, a bright red and black glow began filling the hallways as a crackle of energy sorrounded the creature's index fingers, the mere power of it cracking the walls.

For the fifth time in his entire life, the old monk had felt true fear. The first four times had been similar to this, but nothing so out of control as this demon was creating. Why, the mere shockwave from the impact would probably kill not only the warrior fighting the thing but also the younger monk that he had sent running and the old monk himself. Had he been at his full power, the monk would have been able to easily restrain such an out of control being, but without his full abilites he felt like a fly caught in a spider's web.

[Abomination]

Viral looked around him as the walls cracks and the floor beneath him shook. The light in the hallway became dim except for the glowing demon standing before him. He felt the power of the demon seeping out, affecting everything around it, but the manner in which it affected the environment did not apply to Viral. He felt like he was absorbing this aura, much in the same manner of the demon absorbing the strange flame he threw at it. A tint of red illuminated the dim hallway, and Viral knew that if he turned around, he would most likely be impaled again. The wound on his chest closed up, but it was only a flap of skin with the whole his innards still exposed beyond it. The regeneration process was taking its toll on him, not to mention the makeshift heart was in no condition for any strenuous activity. Viral found himself unable to retreat or attack.

Hmph, it looks like you don't need my help to lose. Go ahead and do whatever you want.

His own voice impaired, he found himself relying on his memory once again. It seems that deep his assimilation, he unconsciously recorded the conversations he had with others. Although, he did not know the context of those conversations even if he were to bring them up to the surface.

Ifrit and Obsidian... something told him that the fight inside the demon was more important than the fight outside it. Was there any way to help win the inner battle?

Pulling out his first engagement with Luc Kraus from his memory, he said in Luc's voice, "You look weak screaming like that, unable to control your stupid self. Calm down!"

Feeling a sudden surge of power from the demon, the very air around Viral became thick. Something was coming. Something big.

"Stop!" He yelled in Luc's voice, bracing himself by crossing his arms and covering his upper body and face for the upcoming attack.

Black flames danced around Viral's arms, and his body glowed slightly red.

Heh. I win.