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Rylei weaved her way through the intricate motions with a grace befitting the most acclaimed dancers of Garda high society. Sparks swirled around her, embracing her limbs in a flamboyant display of lightning-magic.
Lyze let the ethereal chills take over her body as she stepped onto the holy ground of the Uurukiim. It was neither solely the air or the atmosphere that sent tingles down her spine, but a combination of both. The cold air around this ancient, tribal place made Lyze feel as if she were part of some long-forgotten people.
Saturday was always the most comforting day on Tristana's schedule. It was the one day a week which she reserved for a self-indulgent spree of food-related deliciation. While such a practice may not have been good for her physical health, she claimed it as her inexorable right to pig out and relegate herself to the realm of the couch at least once a week.
Riley had sewed for himself a fine reputation as the city's premier distributor of righteous pain. Although his methods were probably outside the law, and the police certainly had problems with him, Riley was always able to get things done. He wanted to protect his city, and he wasn't going to wait around to get a search warrant approved in order to do it.
Kristofer crossed his arms and waltzed along the catwalk, gazing down with a curious eye at the myriad of chemical soups in large vats below him. Any of these could be a cocktail of annihilation or a great boon to his power. Testing them, however, would be a long process of determining which followers would be loyal enough to sacrifice themselves to his cause.
Lisaar turned the strange seeds over in his hand a couple times. He smelled them and brought them closer to his face to better inspect them. With a shrug, he moved to put on in his mouth when somebody pulled his hand away.
"Fool boy! Don't you know what those are?"
Lisaar cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.
The person slapped the seeds out of his hand. "Those are the seeds of a viciously poisonous plant. Stupid foreigners..."
Tati wondered whether or not it was a good idea to dwell on the strange absence of her father. On the one hand, she knew that letting the emotions and memories of his death nestle themselves in heart would bring her great sorrow; on the other, however, she knew that these feelings would offer her an even greater strength when it came time to avenge him.
One minute. That was all Kitty and Shane needed—probably more than they needed, really. The Wilder siblings, at full power? That would, without a doubt, be enough to bore through Kristofer's defenses. As the seconds counted down, both Wilders heated themselves up, wrapping flames around their arms. Finally, just shy of fifty-seven seconds into the process, they unleashed a torrent of unfathomably powerful fire, melting through the steel effortlessly.
Vice reflected warmly on a time when the fractures in his team were only just beginning to appear. Back when Sheena was the ace commando that she still had the potential to be, and when Ceilidh wasn't always drugged out or in some strange pseudo-spiritual astral experience. Vice smiled at the memories, but sighed at the realities which lay before him.
"Any persons found to be associated with the criminal Vice Corduroy and his band of bounty hunters shall be brought in for questioning."
Sheena frowned at the poster with a distinct sarcasm showing in the lines of her face. Criminals, now, were they? Evidently, the authorities in this neck of the woods had an affinity for cracking down on anybody who went about things differently.
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