The Final Goodbye (closed to Chelle)

The Frenchman reeled back, using Balizarde as an anchor before the heat wave from the explosion bloomed across the surrounding area, sending car alarms into a chorus of shrill beeps and honks...people will most definitely be swarming the area in no time. Clasping Sheryll in his arms he stared at her with an intense gaze, she blinked back taking in a deep breath, it appeared some life had return to her highly perceptive eyes. "Sheryll...I think it's time we return the favour..", he spoke slowly, a grin slowly spreading across his face as if he were trying to distract her from the current chaos that rained around them.

The brunette woman glanced to her left and smiled, the corners of her mouth creasing as a spark of fighting spirit returned to her girl face. Standing with a bounce to her step she began to limber up, cracking her neck she did so , "If we make it out alive..CIlian is definitely giving you a foot massage" she smirked glancing at Chelle who was now without her heels. The Frenchman cocked his head to the side as the strange deal was made...of course it was made without any of his consent, typical Sheryll. Once she had cracked her knuckles Sheryll closed her eyes, only to open them a few seconds later...a cold, still look of confidence sweeping across her face as she assumed her killer nature...things were about to get messy.

metal clasped the edge of the concrete roof, the sound of wire reeling back into holsters pierced the air as troopers scaled the side of the building intending to either capture or kill the metahuman targets on the roof. A gloved hand clasped the edge of the building, quickly by four more...the soldiers had arrived. As if the adrenaline had burst through his suited form Cilian dashed forward plunging Balizarde into the nearest hand that popped into view, a pained yelp bursting from hidden lips as the unknown soldier tumbled down the side of the building, screaming as he plunged to a certain death.

"VOILÁ! He cried, theatrically waving his sword in the air before kicking the nearest head that emerged from the corner of the building, polished heel met head, a muted thud cracking the atmosphere before sending the trooper sprawling to his side, luckily for him he managed to grab the edge before he joined his puddle of a friend on the pavement down below. This short moment of luck was shattered however when his very hand was cut clean off, the limb soaring into the concrete abyss down below. He screamed, blood spraying the surrounding area with a vibrant scarlet hue.

A wire shimmered in the air, a barely audible shrill coming from behind Cilian as the metal thread cut through the side of the roof, like a hot knife through butter. The men clasping onto their grappling hooks barely had any time to react as they were sent hurtling towards the ground below with half the roof following behind them, it was understandable.though..who would expect such a thin piece of string to slice their very chance at survival. Concrete shuddered against concrete as the roof met the road below crushing the men that fell with it, bones shattered and lives of 5 men were instantly extinguished with the flick of a wrist, or wire...the Iron maiden had returned.

Cilian flicked his head back taking in a sharp, stiff breath as he avoided a chunk of concrete that wished to lodge itself into his head, such a thing would have been unfortunate, his head was necessary, yes..quite necessary. Glancing at Anna who was now cowering behind a large ventilation system he immediately dashed to her side, the crisp black and white suit gleaming even amongst the surrounding chaos. Clasping her shaky hands he stood her up on her two feet, giving her warm smile..she was quite pretty, unfortunately he could not waste any more time marvelling at her attractiveness when a trooper came rushing out of the stairwell, leaping over his minced comrades.

The two other women were currently pre-occupied with their own distractions so Cilian was left with this rushing fool before he could get the pretty servant out of harms way,"My dear, please...hold on tight", he spoke, tightly holding her waist as she desperately clung to his suited form, a meek whimper, muffled by his chest, escaped her mouth. Just as the trooper drew a strange looking blade, a black torrent of ink erupted from Cilian's skin, surrounding him and the frightened servant in a violently swirling mass of the black liquid. The churning spiral eventually propelled Frenchman into a horizontal direction, smashing the armed trooper straight in the chest with a surprising level of force.

Once the man was out cold Cilian soared into the air, darting around obstacle and avoiding anything that could possibly harm the woman in his arms. He was now a black spectre weaving around buildings and telegraph poles it was like an invisible artist was stroking his unseen brush against the air, creating a dazzling black ink streak in the air. Eventually he spotted an alleyway next to a pharmacy and swooped in between the tight brick corridor, his black suede shoes scuffing the concrete before he landed, the churning mass of ink quickly returning to his skin.

Placing Anna on her two feet, he gently kissed the back of her hand. She was either too exhausted or shocked to respond to the gesture but managed to crack a meek smile. "Go into the pharmacy and stay there until we return", he spoke nodding with his head to the white building next to them. "I think its time I joined my Queen..", he said in a rather matter of fact voice, puffing his chest up as he inhaled a deep breath.

Taking one last glance at the fox women he sprung back into the air, soaring back into the fray. Troopers were coming out of everywhere, like a swarm of bees their numbers were large and their weapons were larger...it was merely 3 people, but it was clear that 3 people were a clear threat..although Cilian was unsure what threat he'd be. Swooping just above the black tar of the abandoned road, he sped up noting the two convoys of troopers that chased after him, they had somehow crept up from the backstreets.

They were in no shape to catch a darting black figure in the air...however it appeared they did have some plan when another explosion racked the surrounding area with an ear piercing BOOM...something had happened back where he left Sheryll...

The heat of the explosion and the force of the blast radiated across the nearby area. The local who had not been distracted from the previous calamities were now completely aware of the ensuing chaos around them. People cowered inside buildings and cars swerved onto footpaths, desperate to escape the convoy o troopers that charged after the black streak in the air. These people, masked men and women armed to the teeth had swarmed into the area like a horde of wasps, if they happened to catch sight of the queen or prince they would open fire in the hopes that they could incapacitate them. Whilst Cilian had not sustained much damage other than flesh wound on his thigh and dirtied suit he was otherwise fit to continue his breathtaking maneuvering through the cityscape of New York. Whilst it would have been a nice evening to go out and take the casual flight around the neighborhood having a raving pack of soldiers chasing you always seemed to ruin the mood...especially of they point their guns at ones boss.

Swooping forward the inky specter spiraled around Chelle, creating a protective barrier around her disheveled form. Monstrous tendrils lashed out of his churning liquid form, slicing anyone foolish enough to pull the trigger, and unfortunately for the Frenchman there seemed to be a lot of fools out on patrol that day. His unnerving display of artistic monstrosities did not faze the gun wielding dominus members and the instance they saw an opening they fired. "It seems the passive approach is not going to work.." he muttered, his honeyed voice distorted from the thrashing ink spiral that wrapped around his suited figure; it was quit fitting for the occasion though..his tone, delivery and the voice itself were quite hellish and any man smart enough should have heeded his gracious warning.

"If you do not stand down we will kill you!" a thunderous voice boomed, alerting the wily prince of the predicament he was in, of course he would stand down, right after they had learnt their lesson of course. "..very well then" he uttered, completely unfazed with their threat to kill him. What originally appeared to be the ink around him slowly recede was actually the first step to his dastardly plan. Just as one of the troopers took a step forward the ink around Cilian's body viciously sputtered one last time, and literally exploded around him covering the surrounding area in the black liquid. Cilian had by now assumed his more 'human' form, his polished black shoes tapping against the cold grey concrete as he lolled his head backwards, observing the scene around him. The troopers who managed to survive Chelle's assault were now covered head to toe in ink, their original grey facades broken with black stains.

Seeing that the Prince was now much more vulnerable a trooper raised his firearm, his hand almost slipping since his weapon was also drenched in ink. "Sir, you have three seconds to get on the found before I shoot you!", the man barked wiping some of the shadowy substance from his visor. The other troopers were also regaining their previous composure, trying their best not to be too concerns with the startling addition to their outfits. "Fortunately for you my friend, three seconds is all I need.., Cilian spoke, lightly shrugging his shoulders as a devious grin spread across his handsome face. The gravity of hs words only made sense once the suit wearing prince snapped his fingers, a shrill noise breaking the tense atmosphere.

The ink that stained the floors, walls and gun wielding buffoons around him instantly sputtered upon his command, violently thrashing towards the nearest foe. It was quite a sight to behold, the damp black liquid assuming monstrous shapes and ever changing forms as it mercilessly pierced, drowned, tore it's way though the troopers shells. Screams of horror and pain erupted in a macabre chorus as Cilian's deathly collection of tattoos shredded the mens organs, seeping out of every orifice once it had purged their bodies of any speck of life. Blood became one with ink as it freely flowed out of the men's eyes, noses and mouths..takin on a grimy dark brown colour that was quite horrid to look at

Taking in a deep breath, Cilian rocked on his heels as the last man's body shuddered from the violent assault, instantly becoming limp once the nightmarish substance flooded his heart. Clicking his tongue, the Frenchman observed his work with a workman's gaze, scratching his chin as he swivelled around on his heel, making sure to see if the ink had killed everyone. Raising his had in the air he made a tugging motion, drawing the ink back to him as his seperated itself from the blood, skin and clothing it had 'cleansed'. Floating towards him in ominous black streams the ink quickly returned to the friendly and familiar place that was his skin, once more returning to it's tattoo form.

Shaking his head and taking in a big gulp of air, Cilian turned around and gazed at his Queen. She was as dazzling as always ...even if she was shoeless, slightly disheveled, and a bit more...feral looking, she still managed to retain her poise and air of dignity. "Well that was fun I guess.., he muttered striding to her side, raising his eyebrows as he once more viewed his handiwork, "However i do think we should head back to Sheryll.." he muttered, nosing with his head at the rising smoke Column that originated from the explosion from earlier.

Hopefully she was still okay.

As much as it made Cilian uncomfortable letting Chelle doing the flying he simply could not refuse her, mainly because she practically forced him and also because she was extremely scary, who would turn down a offer from a grey skinned vampire lady? As they glided through the air the initial awkwardness began to wear off and the Frenchman actually began enjoying his free ride, scanning the area with a semi-focused gaze as he silently marvelled at the destruction that had been caused. An army had been sent for them and what was initially a staggering amount of troopers had been halved in just under an hour. As much as he hated to admit it he knew Gossamer would have caused the most deaths...she had a knack for getting rid of large amounts of people with relative ease.

"ah yes, no need to worry. Anna is quite safe, she is currently in a pharmacy getting high on painkillers or something..", he sniggered in a rather casual voice. He was certain that the pretty fox woman had found herself a nice little batch of drugs to keep herself entertained before they came back for her. A breif moment of silence filtered through the air as he rubbed his chin, staring into the distance before a little grin spread across his lips, "...I've always wanted to know, is Anna single?", he murmured with the utmost curiosity, hoping his queen wouldn't get the wrong idea. This was of course the French native's attempt at trying to know more about his peers...and the fox woman just happen to strike his curiosity the most.

It wasn't long before they reached the thick column of smoke, car alarms polluted the air with their mechanical screams as bodies were strewn across the nearby area...many of which were missing a limb or half their body. 'Little Miss Collateral Damage' obviously had some fun but Cilian was still unsure of whether she herself was still living and breathing. His eyes darted across the area, onto the roof where he last saw her only to witness a completely crimson pool of blood filled with the hacked remains of dead soldiers. Sheryll was not there either. The queen and the prince swooped low, avoiding burning cars and particularly gruesome scenes, as they looked out for Sheryll. A growing sense of desperateness filled his chest, which was uncomfortable since he was rarely in a bad or worried mood...but the thought of finding Sheryll in a less than conscious state honestly frightened the man.

Turning around a corner Cilian was face with something that he was not expecting, a pang of surprise or panic jolted through his veins as he beheld the sight before him...not knowing what to do...

A woman stood still, dark brown bangs crept against her pale defined jawline as the dead air around her seeped around her like a dead colourless current. Smoke pillars eerily billowed from lurking flames on the asphalt framed the woman's slender form, it was like a hellish portrait created by a twisted macabre photographer who had carefully propped every horrid element into one scene, focusing on the lone figure that was drenched in blood and grime. A river of red flowed freely around her body, the scarlet tide washing against her heels, staining the cool black leather that bound her feet. Corpses were strewn across the area, they were mangled, decrepit forms; many missing limbs, torsos and a variety of other crucial body parts.

It was as if death herself had landed on earth and cut into the very fabric of existence, her unstoppable blades slicing any form of resilience against her ruthless assault. A low hum resounded from the core of her body, it was the only sound that stayed constant, wretched white noise...a reminder that what had occurred there was real, very real. The overwhelming stench of death poisoned the air with an almost unbearable haze and as the young prince stared at the sight before him he could not help but gasp.

Sheryll, the woman he had grown to love was a lone figure standing amid the very definition of hell. This was more than murder...it was merciless carnage. Not one trooper died intact, they had all suffered a death so horrid that not even their families would bear the sight of their corpses. He took a tentative step forward, there was something particularly strange in her demeanour, why was she so still? Why were her wires hanging in the stale air around her? These tendrils of death, their shimmering silver forms freely flowing against the current of the wind like deathly wind chimes.

"Sheryll...we won...you can stop now.." he uttered, taking a cautious step forward his hand outstretched..beckoning her to clasp it. they were barely 100 ft away from each other. She stared at him with a blank, cold gaze..her jaw clenched shut like a rigid and silenced banshee.

And then time slowed down.

A brief whirring noise hummed against his ear and a sharp burn screeched from his cheekbone, like an invisible blade had struck him across the face. It could't be...she was standing still, like a deathly statue, and yet her wires were wiping forward, honing in on the last remnants of life that presented themselves for her. The shimmering silver thread soared past his face at an incredible speed..

It was too late to scream. Too late to warn his queen.

A wire was coming straight towards the winged woman, its silent velocity tearing through the air and as he glanced at Sheryll, all life had been replaced...there was nothing, no soul, no heart...just Genocidal intent..

Luckily Chelle's supernatural reflexes came into play the instance the wires were launched at her. The whirring silver tendrils sliced the humid air, whipping sudden bursts of wind in the arc of their erratic movements. The finely fashioned frenchman rolled to his side, brandishing the ornate rapier that hung from his waist, cursing as a warm stream of blood trickled down the left side of his face, stinging the cloud white collar that encased his lower neck. He watched as the rapid vampiric woman lunged with all of her might at her old ally, fangs bared and claws gleaming in the air as the feathery Queen soared at the cyborg.

A fist was aimed at the porcelain face, the brunette woman did not flinch nor shriek..nothing escaped the cold lips that now lay on her once vibrant exterior. The wires captured the fist and wrapped around the grey arm, like slithering serpents aiming for the tensed neck of the queen. Cilian would've stepped in but he knew that Chelle was capable of defending herself, even if she did get injured in the process

Sheryll was standing completely still, her rigid, feminine form stuck in time as her mechanical implant overrided her basic functions. The wires were doing all of the work, simultaneously slashing, blocking and reversing all of Chelle's attacks with relative ease. Cilian had seen Sheryll use her power, but never like this, this time it was more robotic...not passion, no bloodlust...just a soulless weapon hellbent on eliminating all opposition. He gazed at her, he felt no fear, he could not fear this woman, not after everything they had done together. Seven months was a short time, their first meeting at the little Italian restaurant and all the mischief they got up to together until this point. She deserved more than this puppet state she was in, he knew she was being controlled; she had even described in perfect detail the workings of this 'genocide mode'.

The humming increased, the rapid, screeching heartbeat of the suit that clung to Sheryll's body was in overdrive, any stray wire butchered whatever it passed through, bricks, steel, asphalt and glass..nothing could withstand the horrific power of such a weapon. No one but Cilian, he was the first person to supposedly defeat her and it had dawned on him then that he would have to repeat such a trick before his Queen becomes supernatural spaghetti.

Leaping over a butchered corpse he dashed towards the frozen woman, deflecting a stray wire that aimed to cleave his neck with Balizarde. The attack however was not futile and a large scar ran down the side of the blade. [color=violet]["Sheryll! We are not your enemies, focus! You are not a killing machine!"/color], he raised his voice, much louder than he normally spoke. He was being utterly serious, no whimsical smirk nor a slight chuckle...he had to help her at any means necessary.

Any means necessary...

A sharp pain sliced through his abdomen immediately followed by another that pierced his chest. Silver threads whipped their way through his body, cutting straight through the suit and flesh like it was nothing but butter. He grunted, coughing up a glob of blood, adding his DNA to the red river that flowed underneath. He had succeeded in attracted her attention, even if it cost him his new suit...although she had a habit of wrecking his clothes so it did not bother him.

""You could of just got my shoulder you know.." , he breathed heavily, slowly walking forward as he attempted to smile at the blank canvas that was her face. Another wire shot through his right leg, shattering the bone and erupting from skin just below the crease of his knee. A sharp gasp of pain escaped his blood stained lips as he collapsed on the asphalt, the blood from all three injuries beginning to leak out of the puncture wounds. Gazing up at her, his breathing becoming more frantic as his chest began to burn with an unnatural pain...

"Second time lucky...", he panted, propping his shuddering body up with his elbows watching as a spark of confusion ran across the once emotionless face. Streams of black trickled up the metal wires that were still embedded in his body, his tattoos were now making the journey to her body, slowly but surely filling the suit with the volatile liquid...

Soon she would shut down like last time...then they could be fools together again, all of this..the violence that surrounded them was but a harsh reminder of the lives they led..but he was happy...this was going to end soon...

...Hopefully then he would have his Sheryll back...

Cilian could feel everything, the pain of his bones shattering underneath the rapidly moving wires and the blood that eagerly dripped out of him, vibrant red streams making their way across his battered form. The tattoos on his body were rapidly churning across his skin, their violently shifting forms silently screeching for escape as their 'master' slowly began to lose consciousness. However the slow trickles of ink that crept alongside Gossamer's silvery wires had almost finished their journey and as they dripped into the nodes surrounding her body he knew he had almost won. He knew that he only had fifteen minutes before his body gave way, it was a enough time to freeze her like he did all those months ago.

Chelle was clasping the lifeless face of Sheryll, the remaining wires attempting to scar the vampiric woman but to no avail, the supernatural durability that the queen possessed was both impressive as it was slightly intimidating. She was screaming at the one time thrones member, pleading for the brunette, blood spattered woman to come to her senses. It was practically hopeless, Sheryll was all but deceased and her body was all that was left; the hellish suit and its destructive ways were all that responded to the two thrones members.

Only until Sheryll blinked.

"Just, drink,"...

He heard a voice command right before fleshy wrist was quite literally shoved in his face, vibrant red liquid oozing out of a recent wound as the strange but alluring aura clogged his senses,"Ohh..this should be interesting" The frenchman murmured, scrunching his nose as he mentally tried to keep his gag reflex from going haywire. He had even frogs before, possibly a few insects in his sleep and human hair that was most likely lurking in any fast food joint he attended..but blood? The very thought was quite amusing, to survive he would have to drink blood. He wasn't a person to shy away from ridiculous dares and challenges but this was by far the strangest thing he would ever devour in his life, the very fact that he was mulling over whether he should lap up the red liquid when there was a possibility of him dying caused him to silently, and painfully, chuckle through clenched teeth.

",,Forgive me if I make a mess", he said rather sarcastically as he brought his mouth down to her wrist, her skin as cold as ice but the blood was warm. He gagged. Nt because of the slightly horrifying act of drinking another's blood but for the sheer fact that it was sweet, if he did not know the liquid's origins or what it was he would be snacking on this 'drink' daily. He eagerly lapped up the blood, its supernatural effects working strange miracles on his battered body, the pain that was once there slowly dulled down to a throbbing pain. Taking one last taste of the dripping blood he pulled his head back, shaking it a bit as he licked his lips of his Queens blood.

"...Merci" he whispered, exhaling loudly as he felt the tattoos on his body slowly calm down. That was when he jolted back up, ignoring the puncture wound in his chest and abdomen as he immediate;y turned to see what became of his lover. Her body was frozen, he knew this as a act as his ink had worked its way into her outer shell, freezing the mechanics of the NAS suit. the wires had dropped to the ground, limp as a boned fish..whatever danger they presented earlier was all but gone now that their inner workings had been clogged. The women beneath the suit was now breathing..breathing heavily. Sheryll's face now had a complete look of horror and pain on her face, a single glistening tear rolled down her flawless face as she gazed at Chelle and Cilian..No words escaped her lips, she looked utterly destroyed and horrified..the very fact that Cilian was lying in a pool of his own blood was a definite indication of what had occurred and for a moment the young Prince was worried with what his less-than-human queen was going to do now that Sheryll had regained some form of consciousness..