The Witch, interrupted.

[beendeaddonethat]

When one is faced with an issue that cannot be solved by force, or at least, it cannot be done without risk, a logical solution is to research it first. Which is what she honestly should've done in the first place. Perhaps her beloved husband's ways has influenced her a bit too much.

She was, however, at heart, still mainly an Alchemist. More than anything else. One with the Universe. One who could give or take life. And one of the best Altean Alchemy researchers.

Research. There's, Honerva knows, a lot she still doesn't know about Antheans. There's no such people in her own Reality. These people, they might make for good research subjects. And perhaps more. However, there's still a lot she needs to find out before she can make another move.

It's only natural that further research is necessary before anything can be done. Subtly. Truly, her dear husband's ways influenced her a bit overmuch, perhaps, and she needs to go back to the subtle ways of her people.

First, she needs to look. Observe. It's how anything should begin, after all.

The Wilds, as this place is called, don't seem to have too many inhabitants. Or at least, this part of the Wilds. There's a group of some people living in the Wilds, she made sure to stay far enough away from them, for now, just in case. So, this corner of the Wilds she claims as hers. Hopefully, that means she can do a ritual without any interruption, even though she has neither any Druids, nor any Galra, nor any Antheans in this reality to guard her and make certain there are no interruptions.

She kneels in the middle of the alchemical circle she's prepared.

And she begins.

Leaves her own body to go and explore. To research, she might say. Unseen.

She (her spirit) reels back in suprise and pain when the familiar White Lion is suddenly behind her and bites her arm.

She knew he was in Nexus, inside the being which that subject called 'Atlas', but she didn't know the White Lion would be that quick to find her. It only made sense, however, as this was the spiritual space and he was a very ancient spirit and her presence was nowadays large enough to be felt. She had slayed the White Lion once, back home, in Oriande, it'd only make sense he would attack her on sight. Next time, she would need to be more careful when venturing out of her own body.

She blasts the White Lion to shake it off, knowing it's unfortunately not enough Quintessence to hurt it much, but she didn't come prepared to fight. She was here to go and see her enemies from afar, not to engage in combat right now. For that, she's not prepared at the moment.

She's managed to shake the Lion off for a moment, so, really dissatisfied now, she returns to her body. She sighs, takes a deep breath, and opens her eyes.

Honerva's a little irritated, but she she'll just try another day, with more preparation and more planning. She goes, physically now, to the nearest field of flowers. Looking at flowers is always calming. She's not physically injured, but she is a little tired right now. Once she's calmed enough, she can drain some flowers and other plants of their quintessence.

[OOC: Feel free to have felt that something's going on and come check, or even accidentally come upon her. So, open to anyone who'd ever go near the Wilds for any reason. /ooc.]

Comments

[bloodysacrifice]

Moloch didn't often listen to instructions, even from his king. He had no masters and no gods but to be told to hunt and spy, he would do that on principle. Angels had the ability to share much information. Like a bloodhound, Lucifer had provided this woman's scent. As soon as Moloch found it he started trailing it silently.

He came in invisible, though the air of sorrow that his presence brought could not be hidden. He watched her engaged in some form of meditation, or that was the closest the angel could place to it. When she woke he was visible again. He had seen the fluctuations in power and even if the anti-violence field was weak out here Moloch didn't fear her.

He was in all black, leather, tainted with the iron smell of blood though he had rinsed the blood from his clothing hours ago. The black wings shifting so that the razor sharp flight feathers made sounds like metal grating on metal. Shark teeth exposed in a grin, he shook his head to straighten the hair around the small bull horns he possessed in his human form. Even his hands bore black claws right now. The angel was hunting and came up on the woman wordlessly, quiet and wary as an animal.

[beendeaddonethat]

When she's back in her body, it's impossible for the Alchemist to miss it in the air, a sorrow that doesn't belong to her. And then, when he appears, she's ready, though one could say she's still craddling her wounds, too. Invisible outside, not physical ones.

And so she's also not in a mood for this.

Really not in the mood.

She disappears, half only cloaking for a moment, half a very close teleport, and blasts dark purple lightning at the unwanted intruder.

She says nothing, there's no need, as far Honerva's concerned.

[bloodysacrifice]

Moloch feels the surge of dislike long before the attach comes. It is tangible and weighs the air down. The wing feathers make a snapping sound from the speed at which he closes them around himself. He can feel the darkness inherent in the incoming energy.

Moloch though is the purifier and his wings go blindingly white just before the flash of energy intended to purify and diminish the incoming lightning. Some of his feathers are scorched? damaged in the process but he does not care. Now she has the angel's attention. His wings settle closed at his back, light fading away to leave the black feathers slight ruffled.

No wonder Lucifer wanted this woman watched. He thinks as he observes her half visible form. His eyes; golden with crimson ringing the outer edge of the iris, turn on her with a critical and displeased gaze. He's not saying anything either but continues his forward motion toward her.

[beendeaddonethat]

This is, however, time to say something in her opinion.

She becomes fully visible, now. And then, suddenly, there are a hundred of Honervas, all around the angel.

Illusions.

"Who are you?" all ask in unison, voice echoing all around and filled with utter contempt for him. "What's your business in my sanctuary? Do you always disturb other people's domains like a petty cutthroat?"

[bloodysacrifice]

Moloch raises a brow at the sudden appearance of multitude of the woman. It may trick a human but not a keen sensed angel. His head cocks and he listens for the heartbeat knowing full well what sorcery looked like. After all, his brother Belial was a sorcerer. His head snaps around to pin eyes on the real woman.

The grin is predatory. "What a lovely game you have for us to play? Shame I don't want to."

He's started toward the real woman. "What business do you have in my brother's domain?"

Lucifer didn't think he owned the Nexus but he had given Moloch free rein to harass this woman until she left or died or was subdued. He was taking liberties. "Oh... no, I am not petty...but a cutthroat, perhaps. Now, who are you?"

He ignored her question about his identity for the time being.

[beendeaddonethat]

So he looks and listens. That's slightly rare, but appreciated - not, however, in an intruder, and one so vain.

"Liar. You know exactly who I am. Otherwise, you'd not be here. State your business or begone."

She sends a dark blast at him.

[bloodysacrifice]

"Exactly? Why do you exaggerate everything?" Moloch will move right up into her personal space if she allows it. "I am doing my business and you can't make me leave."

Moloch deflects again and then turns on her opening his wings full. The nervewracking sound of metal grinding on metal filling the space and the place turns cold as if the warmth of life is draining out of the space. It's more akin to the cold of space than the cold of winter.

"What is your business here?"

[beendeaddonethat]

With a wave of her arm, she erects a barrier of darkness between them. Then, she turns completely invisible.

"You are uncouth," Honerva says, her voice coming from all sides.

[bloodysacrifice]

Moloch approaches the wall and looks up at it curiously. "You are not the only one that controls the darkness, or perhaps it controls you."

He reaches out, fearlessly to touch the wall.

"You carry enough pain that invisibility will not hide you from me." He's just speaking into the ether and not really looking for the woman, though his senses are on high alert for her presence.

[beendeaddonethat]

Honerva's beginning to wonder who and what is this person. Something quite powerful, certainly. She can feel that.

"Why'd you wish to declare yourself my enemy? And who's that brother of yours you've mentioned?"

[bloodysacrifice]

"Why do you do things that make everyone yours?" He snaps the question right back at her, laughing maniacally in the process. Was this person really that clueless?

"My brother is the creator." He responds while watching and listening for her.

[beendeaddonethat]

"You cannot think I'd feel threatened by you, truly."

"I, too, am a creator."

She reappears. Looking much younger - though that's no magic, just Altean shape-shifting in use. Maybe she wants to make a point.

[bloodysacrifice]

"Most are foolish enough to not be afraid when they should be. It leads to most sorrow and death."

Moloch laughs at her. "No, you are a destroyer. Like many others you break the things around you and claim it is to make something new. Creators make because they need to, not for thier own selfish wants and goals. I know your kind."

Shape-shifting doesn't even phase Molosh. Angels do it often enough.

[beendeaddonethat]

"Isn't a creator someone who makes new and better things? Better than ones they're inspired by? In all honesty, I've done that, many a time. Do not insult me in your ignorance."

[bloodysacrifice]

"You know absolutely nothing about creating a universe. You are talking about tearing things down and using your judgement on what needs destroyed and what is good enough." Moloch snorted out a bull-like snide laugh.

"You say you're a creator and talk like someone who believes they are judge, jury, and executioner to lord over things and end thier time as they see fit. That is not a creator. That is a tyrant."

[beendeaddonethat]

She looks like herself again, no pretense.

"I have enough power to reshape any Universe I like, or I'll have such power soon. You know not what you speak of, regarding me. Should I show you? With no illusions."

[bloodysacrifice]

"So, you reshape what a creator has already made? That isn't creation. That is still only you deciding what is obsolete and deciding based on your arbitrary thought it needs changed."

Moloch grins. "Drop your illusions and I drop mine. See if you survive looking on an actual force of creation."

Though the words are as flat and emotionless as ever there is a true threat in his words. If he drops his illusions here things would burn and die, lots of things.

[beendeaddonethat]

There's something about this person, she feels, when she allows a moment of focus on her part despite all his provocation.

Something utterly and completely dangerous.

And this place with its bothersome limits which she knows from prior observation through one experimental subject, does not help. In short, perhaps right now is not the time to fight a risky unknown.

Honerva actually teleports right now, a few miles away. Unlike her husband and his people, she never considers a retreat to be something awful.

Retreating and furthet assesing the threat later should only be natural.

As natural as the fact that she's right now scoffing at his words. Silently.

[bloodysacrifice]

Moloch is the eternal harasser that is not to be deterred by simple teleportation. When she gets there Moloch is sitting under a tree, watching her for a moment.

"That was a pretty trick." He reclines against the tree as if nothing is out of place. "Futile, but an interesting attempt."