IC: Midsummer Rising

[white_flowers]

Midsummer.

Longest day, brightest day, day of celebration for those of the Light and also of the Wild.

It will be a day of great power-- and had once marked the ending of the rising Dark in the world she had once called her own.

But here at the end of all the worlds, she intends to change things. The longest and brightest day it may be, but there is another side to it as well; for at the moment that the sun passes zenith, the time of Light also passes.

So begins the long slow fall into the Dark.

This time, the White Rider means to turn her carefully-gathered power to advantage at that precise moment, bringing the cycle to an entirely different ending -- for everyone.

She is smiling cruelly when she steps out of the forest and starts toward the bar, half-lost in her thoughts and her plans.

Comments

[nita_callahan]

Nita oofs as Puck grabs her, and stumbles. The power roaring around them dizzies her; her vision keeps blurring and clearing again.

Instinct takes over. It only takes one breath to yell the words of her favorite shield spell, though the wind snatches the syllables from her mouth. She yells for Puck and Mercer to get next to her, but has no idea if they hear her.

[white_flowers]

The air hardens around Puck and Nita, but Mercer, having dodged in the opposite direction, is too far away.

The whirling menace of the jet-black tornado tears through the space between them, stretching out tendrils as if to seize and destroy, but it does not pause.

Instead, it is heading toward the bar itself.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Now, Puck is rather fond of the bar, after a fashion-- even if he is significantly more fond of Mercer.

However, there is more than that to consider.

It's Midsummer. That's his time. His. He does not particularly appreciate the Dark attempting to spoil it for him.

It should come as a surprise to no one, therefore, that a strange, cold mist begins to coalesce at the outskirts of the forest. It creeps forward, thickening as it goes, and rather quickly intercepts the vortex of the Dark on its path to the bar.

There is a peculiar quality to this fog: It's a kind of muddling that is more than just the air, more than the cold. It is what could be called magic-- but could just as easily be classified as cheating.

Puck grins at Nita Callahan.

"You've my thanks for your protection."

Then he's gone. A bright, bewitching light bobs in his place--

And zips into the fog.

[mercurialist]

The buckling pressure in the air's just as much physical as magical. The Dark's a cyclone, a rush of air spinning around on itself.

It's just weather.

Mercer regains his footing and grins, fiercely, before crouching for an instant like a gold medal sprinter at the blocks.

And then a whistling wind joins in as a whitish blur starts to wrap itself around the tornado.

[nita_callahan]

Nita shakes her head to try and clear her vision again. The bright, Bright, immortal part of her balances some of the Dark's influence on her, but she's still mortal. The power raging around her makes her head pound.

She drops into a crouch, holding the shield, and scans the area for something palpable to attack, someone who needs help.

[white_flowers]

The cold whispering mist and the spinning vortex left in Mercer's wake combine with an odd effect.

The fog rises, twisting and coalescing into a magical spiral of its own, and within its walls the tall loathsome column that is the Dark begins to spin in place.

It is thickening now, becoming more solid -- it has stopped advancing toward the bar, but something is building inside the Dark now, some power of hatred and wild, destructive fury --

--and then it explodes, throwing itself outward in all directions with shattering force.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck is rather speedy, fortunately, and as he'd felt the power begin to build, he had darted back towards Nita and her magic-- still, the Dark catches him before he can get quite well enough away.

The bobbing light spins wildly, flickers, nearly goes out-- doesn't go out-- and the fog fades away as if it had never been there.

[mercurialist]

Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen.

Even if you're as fast as Mercer, it doesn't do much if what you're trying to avoid is going everywhere.

He changes direction at the last second to try and get out of range, but that was essentially ground zero he was standing next to; some of the Dark slams against his shoulder, and Mercer stumbles back into visibility and goes down, hard.

It lasts half a second. Coiling his legs under him, he springs back to his feet -- but it's not without a lot of extremely loud and vitrolic swearing, and he's got his left shoulder in a death grip.

[nita_callahan]

It's heading for the bar--

The shield takes the blast of power without much effort, so Nita has plenty of attention to spare for the thought of what will happen if the Dark actually reaches Milliways.

Anger lends her power as she adjusts the parameters of the shield in her mind and then yells the words to the wizardry. The dome of air around her whumps out of existence for a split-second, and then reforms in front of her, extending up and out with every syllable.

[white_flowers]

Nita's shield grows rapidly as it stretches between the bar and the malice of the Dark, backed by the young wizard's determination and a pure, bright strength.

Balked by magic and mist and wind, the seething malevolent fury before them coils and rises into a towering emptiness, a void in the heart of everything-- but then further out, something happens.

And as that pure and shining fire calls to its ancient enemy, the Dark rushes backward away from the three before it, recoiling and drawing all of its power into itself for one final, deadly strike.