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Kari Wolf     KR Materials is in the business of creating exotic materials for scientific and industrial applications. Enriched radioactives, plasma bottles, ectoplasm, non-newtonian liquid metal alloys, strange quarks... They make the weird stuff. However, today the target is nothing so exotic; just one metric ton of room-temperature superconductors and the truck they're loaded on.
    The truck is just leaving the loading dock, the guards keeping watch over the vulnerable dock area. The truck itself has a passenger riding literal shotgun and the driver's got a pistol just in case as well. The engine revs and the truck starts pulling out.
    Unbeknownst to the truck's crew, they have some stow aways. Kari and Harriet peer out from under one of the truck's fuel tanks, clinging to the grated step up to the door, both armored and ready for action. As the truck gets underway and enters the highway, Kari clambers among the underside of the moving vehicle, using the heavy duty claws of her Dire Wolf armor to keep a grip on things. She reaches out and rips open the AC coolant line, guaranteeing the drivers will be overly hot and unwell when Ophelia turns up to take them out.
    Harriet, in the mean time, climbs her way towards where the trailer hitch is and lies in wait.
Drowned Ophelia Overheat the drivers? Oh, no. Ophelia has something much worse in mind. While she isn't nearly as sneaky as the Shinki, the Queen of Tears does have one advantage; The Black Tears compose her entire form. Puddles on the road aren't necessarily a rare thing, even in this futuristic place. But as the rumbling truck splashes through one, claws rip outwards to grip the underbelly. Black Tears twisting over and across itself, somewhere between smoke and liquid as the ectoplasmic mass works its way towards the torn AC line.
And then slithers inside, like poison in a vein. The darkened mass creeping up towards the cabby. The VoxComm goes to static - the first sign that something has gone wrong - as it twists and scrambles through ancient FM that hadn't been in use since the advent of satellite entertainment. The hammer of guitars and drums rattles outwards as doors lock themselves, even as a cold, cold mist drifts outwards from the vents. Frost already beginning to form on metal surfaces, creeping along pants as the shotgun driver frantically tries to kill the atmospheric conditioner.

The windows suddenly go white, creaking as ice creeps up them, and the truck sways. Slowly drifting from lane to lane while it slows, the contents of the cabby hidden save for a faint sillouette.
Ophelia can -sorta- do sneaky!

THEMESONG: DethKlok - MURDERTRAIN A COMIN'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6cffzfkb6Hc
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga is lost. Or, at least, she thought she was. Oftentimes, it turns out she is precisely where she needs to be only she had not been consciously aware of it. Inga was seated on a concrete road barrier, staff in hand, looking so completely out of place in her hangerok dress and fur trimmed cloak it's comical.

When she sees the truck pass and go dark, the muffled sound of metal music coming from inside the cab the world makes sense again. "Odin's bones," she curses. "Was no one else available to deal with this?" she grumbles. She feels like she's had about enough trouble, especially with Ophelia, who is no doubt involved. What she wants with a truck remains a mystery, but Inga doesn't need to know much in order to know Ophelia must be stopped.

But first, to stop the truck, because it is coming right for her and she doesn't fancy being run over today.

Inga leans on her stick and stands, raising the staff to call out a quick word to channel her power--a burst of force manifesting in front of her to bring the truck to a stop.

Inga stands in the headlights, eyes narrowed, fist uncurling to reveal the flickering of flames between her fingers, ready to go. "Ophelia, didn't you know we have an appointment?" she calls. Okay, she didn't know either, but apparently, they do! Inga has no idea that a certain shinki is also involved--what with being tiny and stealthy.
Kari Wolf     The brakes are hit as the ice begins to form in the cab. The mass of the truck and its cargo all but guarantee that it is not a quick stop, slamming it into Inga's impromptu magical barrier with enough force to break the trailer hitch and knock the trailer on its side.
    Harriet ends up crashing through the rear window into the cab by the force, busting through the front windshield as well and into Inga. The foot-tall robot bunnygirl does gain enough of her senses to jump/ricochet off of Inga and back towards the wrecked truck. It's a bit like being kicked by a toddler, despite Harriet's size.
    Kari holds on for dear life, but the momentum, the impact... sends her flying as well. Her flailing rips a number of important looking cables and hoses as she hurtles towards the ground, skidding across the asphalt only to end up in front of Inga as well. She doesn't seem aware of Inga as she picks herself up and shakes (in a rather dog-like fashion). Only then does she notice Inga. "HI! We're stealing this truck, okay?" And the tiny robot hops away as best as she can, radioing to the Confederacy to send a heavy lifting chopper to pick up the trailer.
Drowned Ophelia There is no movement in that shuddering tractor trailer for a while as it sits; Frost slowly drifting from the closed windows, condensation rolling from the glass. And as Kari and bunny girl bounce off Inga and run back towards the tipped over trailer - as traffic screeches to a halt and general confusion begins spreading - the tractor portion of the trailer tractor begins to shudder. And then the top of the hood expodes upwards, the hood winging lazily through the air. Fire ripples up, before turning blue. Smoke ripples upwards, curling in on itself, condensing;
Forming.
And Drowned Ophelia straightens up, claws flexing beside her. She breathes in deep, opens her eyes, and smiles that cold, bitter smile. "Appointment? Oh, no - death is a stalker. And it keeps no time, mm?" She giggles brokenly, spreading claws over her own face. "This is embarrassing. I was supposed to be sneaky. Oh well - I guess if everyone's dead, then there's no one left to notice, is there?" Typical Tear Drinker logic. White teeth shown behind black lips, before she gestures with palm up - curling her claws inwards. Inviting, and hopefully distracting long enough to get a Fed helio in.

"I offered you solace before, Inga. I offered to break your fate; Have you come to draw deep of my waters?"
Inga Freyjasdottir Look, toddlers can kick pretty hard, and Inga is not exactly the most well balanced. When Harriet kicks off of her, Inga has to take a step back, nearly falling. She's able to keep her balance, just barely, leaning on her staff. Was she just hit by a small child? What in the worlds is going on?

Blinking, Inga looks down to Kari. "Hello..." she says. Steal the truck? Inga looks thoughtful for a moment, then shakes her head. "No, I'm afraid that is not okay and I likely need to attempt to stop you from doing so," she informs the small being. "You should perhaps abandon this plan, or I will regretably need to resort to unpleasant measures--and you should rethink your choice of company," Inga adds, glaring toward Ophelia.

Can she not escape this woman!? She must play this carefully...

Inga clenches her teeth. "I am tired of being lead to you! Is there no one else that could deal with this?!" she complains, fingers curling around the flame she holds, slinging it toward Ophelia. It isn't her strongest spell, but hopefully it will be a distraction so that she can see if those in the cab of the truck need saving. She reaches out with her Sight, just to make sure they are alive--yes, their hearts still beat.

Inga draws her knife next, a plan forming.
Kari Wolf It isn't okay? Well, Kari has something to say about that.
    "THPPPPBT!" Yes, the tiny robot has the nerve to give Inga a raspberry. Then the ports on her oversized armored shoulders open up and little explosives are launched at Inga! Well, they're not grenades, but they do explode in a lot of smoke and will definitely obscure vision.
    Meanwhile, Harriet managed to jump her way onto the overturned trailer. With a shimmer of something being drawn from slipspace, she pulls a flare out. She reads the instructions since she's never done this before and the flare is pretty large for a foot-tall robot to handle. She pops the top and drops it on the trailer, shimmery glowy fluorescent yellow smoke starting to billow out from the flare. The signal for the choppers when they do arrive.
Drowned Ophelia "Have you ever considered - that I -am- your fate?"
Cackles the broken creature, before Inga slings a fireball at her! The Queen of Tears hisses, her hand shoved forward to catch the magic construction; And catch she does, the fire rippling up between her bleak claws and scoring glowing burns along her pale blue skin, all the way up to her shoulder. Black ichor drips from the creaking wounds. The broken creature shudders, white eyes rolling up bfeore they half lid. And she practically purrs, clenching her claws closed over the smoke that lifts up from her scorched palm.
"That hurts, Inga. You always have the best misery for me, don't you?" Pitch tears slide down her cheeks as Kari's grenades begin exploding - and the creature suddenly glides forward, feet not seeming to touch the ground. Leaping off the burning cabby, her motion caught by the greasy smear in the air of the miasma following her. Both claws held out high, and arcing downward - trying nothing so less than to CUT INGA TO FUCKING RIBBONS FUCK YOU CRAZY BEE FATE LADY!!
"How's Harry?" She practically purrs, voice a husky whisper. "I miss him already."
Inga Freyjasdottir The wisewoman blinks at Kari, frowning. Well, alright then. She feels a little badly doing violence to such a small creature but it seems it must be done. She'd given her a chance to leave.

Inga coughs as the smoke bombs go off, immediately bringing the knife to her opposite arm to draw blood to use as a ward, summoning a softly shimmering barrier around herself. Direct combat like this is not exactly Inga's thing, but she is going to have to handle it somehow.

She needs to learn to control the wind!

Obscured by the cloud of smoke, Inga does not see Ophelia until the last possible moment. Luckily, her wards are up, or Inga would have been in tough shape. As it stands, the wards hold, acting as a barrier, absorbing the damage she would have taken.

The white-haired woman narrows her eyes, growling. "Shut up," she retorts, then thrust her staff forward, calling out a word of power--another blast of force to send Ophelia reeling, giving Inga much needed space.

Not because she's trying to protect her own skin. That's not the game.

With the blood that still flows from her wound Inga directs it outward toward the truck, which she can see vaguely outlined due to the flare. If Harriet is not quick, she'll find herself covered in blood--boiling hot blood. But hopefully, it will also extinguish the flare.
Kari Wolf     Harriet sees the incoming blood stuff and freaks. Ew. Who does that? Her rapid-fire laser cannon spools up on its shoulder mount and automatically starts tracking the blood as it spits hot white light at it to slow it down. The lasers make sizzling pop sounds as the air violently expands around the bolts of light. Harriet is running for the flare, scooping it up and waving it around in the air like an Olympic torch as she runs down the length of the trailer trying to avoid the magically heated and propelled liquid. "Hot hot hot hot!" she says about the flare as she carries it in her armored hands.
    Kari is not getting anywhere near that mess. Two big people fighting is a great way for a shinki to get badly damaged. Her clawed boots dig for purchase and she braces as the launchers shoot out micro-grenades at the boiling blood passing by, thinking that maybe the explosions can disperse it.
Drowned Ophelia Drowned Ophelia's claws hiss against Inga's wards - before she is suddenly thrown back by a blast of force. The broken creature forming wings from the ichor that permeates her form, landing lightly on a bare foot. That dark, cruel smile on her features as her chin dips. And from the distance - a scream of a guitar. A drawn out, rattling E chord that strains as it rises in tune, before the Six Stringed Sorrow bubbles into existance between her hands. Blue wake candles sputter to life along the machine head, black claws drawing a tortorous strain against the strings.

"Oh, Inga. You love him, don't you?" She begins, tilting her head. "And he loves you; Think he'll weep at your funeral? .. " Her chin lowers. The smile fading into a thin frown. "Think you'll weep at his?"
And then she spreads her ankles wide, knees turned in. Arm swings up and over, dropping like an anchor as she begins hammering at the guitar. The strings glow white, electricity crackling along her forearms, then rippling outwards towards the Seeress; Lightning! It leaps from spot to spot, frogging it's way in her direction, looking to do nothing so much as HAMMER that ward until it buckles~

"Uh uh uh. They're my toys." She snarls.
Young Arthur Inga's call for aid draws forth a swordsman clad in white, a steel helmet hides his face and the blank white shield does little to tell people of his identity. A regular steel sword is drawn as the clearly still young soldier walks forth, in likelihood, too young to be a knight. He approaches Ophelia from behind, but doesn't move to strike right away.

"You will abandon your attempts at making gains, and you will leave." It's a calm, simple statement. There's a force of command behind it, a natural confidence in uttering instructions, and of course there's the sword that's pointing at Ophelia's back.
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga's attempt to extinguish the flare fails. Water would be lovely, but all she has is blood, which at the very least grosses out Harriet. Not exactly what she was looking to do.

Cursing, Inga calls for back up. She sees no way she can fight Ophelia and keep the truck from being stolen. She does not even know what the vehicle contains, besides two people, frozen by Ophelia's magic. That's enough. The people are the important bit just now. Back up is coming.

Inga growls in response to Ophelia. "There will be no funeral. Kill me if you wish, but I'll come back at you from the Other Side," she informs her, bolstering her barrier with more blood as Ophelia hammers it with lightning. Inga's hair stands on end with the electricity permeating the air, but the ward appears to be holding. It will not last forever, though.

Inga needs to make a choice. She can continue to hold the ward, or she can let it slacken so she can cast another, elsewhere.

In the end the choice is simple. Inga opens the vein in her arm, blood pooling quickly and rising into the air only to snake out, past Ophelia, swirling around the cab of the truck--creating a magic circle to keep the people inside from harm.

If Ophelia hits her again, now? She will not be protected.

Luckily, reinforcements have arrived!
Kari Wolf     Kari is lucky she is small and not always noticed. With a RAWR she leaps at the young knight's head, six inches of armor with claws and blades coming to bear against the much larger human. Her big gauntleted claws are going to try and find some kind of purchase on the helm if she hits her mark.
    Harriet gives up the flare by flinging it, the stick skittering across the trailer and over the side as the blood hits it, causing a nasty smelling smoke as the burning flare interacts with blood before going out. She looks around as she hears the low hum of a helicopter in the distance, the armored rabbit ears twitching. The airlift will arrive very shortly, she thinks. Hopefully there's enough smoke to show where they are. Glancing about, she thinks that maybe the traffic jam and police cordon will also help show where they are.
Drowned Ophelia The MOTHERFUCKING LIGHTNING crackles around Ophelia's Six Stringed Sorrow as the ward crumbles - and she smiles. A vicious, brutal smile as she prepares for the final blow. AT least -
Until a HERO shows up. She turns her head slightly, glancing back towards Young Arthur. That cruel, cold smile thinning to a grin. And when Kari leaps at him - she suddenly shoves herself BACKWARDS. ONTO the point of the sword! She gasps, shoving herself further onto it. Black ichor trickling down her black lips as she tilts her head back, claws looking to warp around the point of that blade as it -comes out her other side-.
"Was this your first time?" She murmurs, words bubbled by the Black Tears coming from her throat and her wound. "Don't worry - just shove it in as hard as you can, little man." The idea being to bind up that sword so Kari can have her way with Arthur.
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga watches as Ophelia impales herself on Arthur's sword, horrified and yet not at all surprised. Ophelia has /serious/ issues. "Oh Ophelia, I know you miss dear Eddie, but that's not him. You poor thing...you miss him, don't you?" she asks, her voice filled with sympathy.

The most cutting weapon is pity.

"Come on Ophelia, lets go find him," she says, extending her hand to Ophelia.

Oh gods she's going to get stabbed.
Young Arthur Arthur pauses a moment as Ophelia says those things, long enough for Kari to get plenty opportunity to dig into his helmet and start pulling on it, though outright removing it will take more than brute force. It's attached below the chin, keeping it from being knocked off too easily. It's still an unpleasant sensation to have a helmet pulled upwards from beneath you.

Arthur responds by swatting at the tiny adversary with his shield, the large object going straight for his own head, and ideally catching Kari in between. At the same time, the young king pulls out his sword, making sure to twist the blade some on the way out, and reaching out with his knee to push Ophelia forward. "Your innuendo disgraces you, miss, and no you're not the first person I've stabbed, nor will you be the last."

He moves his blade, reaching out to rest it against her neck if he gets the opportunity. "I was raised to live by the sword, and the Lord knows, I will die by it too. But not this day. Now, leave. Don't make me say it thrice."
Kari Wolf     The sound of the helicopter is deafening as it closes in. The Confederate markings deter the local law enforcement from actively firing on it, knowing what kind of trouble might happen if they draw the ire of the Confederate Elites on scene. Harriet radios and tries to guide them in as best as she can, but she's never done this before, so it will take more time than usual. The helicopter releases the tie-downs/hooks, which Harriet has to attached to the trailer somehow...
    Kari's arm gets smashed up by the shield even as she tries to dodge it. Persistent, she swings around onto the shield hand with her good gauntlet. Her shoulders pop up from the upper side and the laser turrets start spewing yellow light at Arthur. The lower weapon ports open and launch smoke bombs at the knight too. "Don't count me out just because I'm tiny!"
Drowned Ophelia Get an opportunity to put a sword to her cheek? No.. No, Arthur won't get that opportunity. For even as Ophelia is cheerfully gutted and pushed off with a knee, Inga says the magic words. And the Queen of Tears snaps her head up, locking gaze with the Seeress. Pupils dilate quite suddenly -
It comes from somewhere in the diaphram. To describe it as a scream would be giving it discredit; It is more than a scream. It is a reverberating banshee's shriek, a death rattle of pure hate, tinted with the sharp glass edge of sorrow.
It is Drowned Ophelia's wail.
The hammer of DEATH METAL pounds the air quite suddenly as she leaps forward, bitter black claws hunting for Inga's flesh, chest heaving as she weeps. Arthur? Forgotten. Kari? Forgotten. MISSION? .. Forgotten.
Inga must be -hurt-.

THEMESONG CHANGE: MirrorThrone - 'So Frail'
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O_qRLlnsjhU
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga winces as Ophelia lets out that wail of pure sorrow and rage. The pity she has for Ophelia is very real. That does not need to be faked.

Nor can she fake the pain as she is impaled by Ophelia's claws. Well, that worked. That worked all to well.

Ophelia's not the only crazy bitch here. Inga lets out a gurgling, coughing laugh, spitting blood in Ophelia's face--anima charged, burning acid byslood.

Inga steps back, trying to wrench herself from Ophelia's claws as she brings her hand up and blasts her with conjured fire. "I'm so...tired of...your shit," she rasps.
Young Arthur The smoke bombs and lights obscure Arthur's vision to the point where he can't quite see what's going on with Inga, which may or may not be a good thing. The boy does notice the tie-down hooks, and that's what he responds to, while coughing uncomfortably from the smoke. He tries to grab a hold on one of the lines before hitting it with his sword, obviously attempting to break the line and make the hook pointless. "I'm not counting you out, but I do have priorities. Should you wish to prevent me from cutting down these lines, make me." He answers Kari.

And that's when he spots what's going on with Inga, too far away to intervene without abandoning this task, and he knows she's right. He should take advantage.

And he feels terrible for doing exactly that.
Kari Wolf     Steel cables, because nobody is taking any chances with how heavy something may or may not be. It will take a few swings with the ordinary sword that Arthur is using. The larger shinki opens fire on Arthur, the laser gun walking its shots towards the sword hand even as the wielder pulls out two sword-like blades of her own with a shimmery glow. Harriet charges in to help her sister Kari, much quieter than her sibling. While Kari is going for the arms, Harriet is going for the legs.
    Kari hangs on for dear life as Arthur moves to deal with the cables. She finally hops up and tries to give Arthur a kick to the head with her servo-assisted armored boots. "AND TO MY ENEMY I LEAVE A BOOT TO THE HEAD!"
Drowned Ophelia The Wicked Bitch of the West snarls into Inga's face, digging those claws in somewhere warm and wet. Which is when - laughing - Inga spits acid. Ophelia shrieks, clawing at her own face, before Inga - sets her on fire. Her arms stretch out behind her as if blown by a large wind, her silouette dancing in the flames.
And then she's laughing. Laughing madly, which somehow melts into a sobbing, heard over the crackling, hissing of her Black Tears. Before she looks to -grab- Inga, and pull her right into the fiery grasp.

"Burn with me-" She hisses, between blackened lips.
Inga Freyjasdottir Inga screams as she is grabbed by Ophelia, singed by her own fire. "NO! Get away from me!" she screams, blasting Ophelia back and away from her with another wave of force.

Inga is not doing well. Even with her healing, she's bleeding and burned and she can't take much more of this.

So, might as well make use of that blood. Spears form of hardening blood powered by anima, surging forward to impale Ophelia.

It's a bit too much. The downside of blood magic? You can over do it. There's only so much blood in a body at a time.

Inga crumples to the ground, unmoving.
Young Arthur The lasers bite into Arthur's armour, heating it up and causing genuine pain. Shinki attach themselves to his arms and legs, and he flails his arm trying to fling off the Shinki weighing it down while his foot is used to attempt to bash the unwelcome rider into the pavement. He hacks at the line again, looking over to see Inga crumple and fall over, and something changes in him.

First, he throws his sword towards Drowned Ophelia, a well-aimed throw that a lesser adversary might assume means he's left without a weapon, but now somewhat less burdened he unties a string on the bag on his back, and it drops to the ground with noise that suggests whatever is in there is empty. The hilt of a sword peaks out, and with a certain icy calm, Arthur recites the prophecy.

"He whosoever pulls this Sword out of this Stone and Anvil is rightwise born King of Britain." And with blinding light, he draws forth royal blade, and he swings the weapon towards Ophelia, a wave of sacred light swells forth, forming a cutting edge as it travels towards the Queen of Tears. "You chose poorly."
Kari Wolf     Seeing the action heat up, the heavy lifter begins taking off, with only four of the cables attached. They'll risk it. The worst that could happen is that they jettison the cables. The cables hold, the metric ton of superconductors swaying unsteadily as it takes to the air. The Confederates seem to have emerged victorious!
    Kari and Harriet both agree that the angry angry knight is not somebody they want to continue fighting. Besides that, they got what they came for. So they bail.
    "Let's get out of here!" Kari says, with Harriet showing her own agreement by leaping away from the young warrior. Kari hops away as well, trying to escape.

    Meanwhile, in the air, the weight of the superconductor crates shift within the trailer as it sways unsteadily. With a mighty metallic clang, the trailer doors are smashed open by the crates! The heavy cargo starts tumbling earthward, most of it spilling out before the winches correct for the open end.