maskormenacelogs | A Hierophant and a Count engage in battle...

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A Hierophant and a Count engage in battle...

WHO: Anastasya Griffin and Count Dooku
WHERE: Heropa
WHEN: February 28th?
WHAT: Brainwashed Dooku encounters Anastasya after she has taken down a Russian patrol and battle ensues!
WARNINGS: Violence, death, gore?, necromancy, vampirism, sith lords, light sabers, who knows? Will update as necessary?

Anastasya had felt it the moment the dampening had been turned off. A week of struggling to keep herself from transforming into her vampire form had finally stopped just as if someone had thrown a switch. And maybe they had, really. It felt like waking up from a dream, and what little effect the brainwashing had on her was immediately gone, replaced by a kind of quiet anger at everything that had happened.

Which was why, when the fighting broke out, she'd pulled on clothing she hadn't worn since her arrival, feeling the thrill of energy and power that came from being who she was, not who she was pretending to be here. Hierophant to the Mother Namtaru, Speaker for House Eternia, one of the strongest necromancers who had ever lived.

No one played with her mind like that. Never again.

The patrol she found was walking in the shadows of one of the taller buildings in the area, three men on foot escorting a tank. A simple enough challenge, a good place to start, she pulled her hood up and gave in, feeling the cold chill that came with every little 'death' her powers gave to her. Pale skin, glowing green eyes, a bit stronger, a bit faster...her vampiric powers were reduced here but that infuriating portal, but there was still enough.

A leap forward, a quick, silent motion and a twist, and with a snap of his neck the first soldier collapsed nervelessly at her feet. His companion, on the far side of the tank, started to turn but she thrust her hand towards him, murmuring under her breath, and an ice spike shot free from her palm, catching him just above the heart and sending him tumbling backwards to the ground, his hand spasming, firing uselessly into the sky.

The last of the soldiers, drawn by the sound, came racing around the tank, but he didn't even have time to lift his weapon before Anastasya was on him, gun ripped from his fingers and tossed aside, arms pinned, her hood falling back as she moved, giving him a split second to realize what was about to happen...and then she sank her teeth into his neck, ignoring his shouts and screams as she felt his blood wash into her. She hadn't fed, hadn't needed to feed in months. Hadn't wanted to, honestly, not most of the time. But occasionally...and who better to indulge in then the people who had brought them such torment?

It was barely a minute before she dropped him lifelessly to the ground, feeling the surge of energy and the deep-seated euphoria that came from the blood inside her. The men inside the tank seemed to have finally noticed what was going on though, and the sound of the top swiveling around towards her, bringing their front canon to bear, tugged her from her moment.

Anastasya stepped up against the rear of the tank and pressed her hand against the metal, keeping her head low and out of sight. Another murmur from deep inside her hood and a swirl of shadowy magic, twisted negative energy, shimmered out from around her fingers and began seeping out and around the tank. It was much like a wall or a cloud, surrounding the machine and looking for any spot to seep inside. She knew when it did when the shouting inside began, and the man driving had just enough time to pop the hatch before the shadows overtook him, and his screams cut off with a groan that turned into a gurgle, then into silence.

She let out a slow breath as she stepped back, reaching up to pull her hood back up. Well. That had gone fairly well. A good dry run for the next batch, at least. Of course, she had no idea someone had been drawn by the sound of gunfire...

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There was a disappointed sigh from behind Anastasya. If and when she turned around, she would see Count Dooku standing in the middle of the street, wearing a brown suit instead of the clothing form his own Galaxy, and with a disapproving look on his face.

After the raids on the hotel and then Cape Canaveral itself by subversive elements, Dooku had volunteered to help maintain stability and order in the area for his Soviet benefactors. Clearly his skills were in need. The situation was on the verge of chaos. All the progress they had made might be lost.

"You should not have done that, Anastasya," he says, his voice severe. "Those people were here to help us. I am afraid you shall have to be punished, now."

Dooku. She froze for a moment, frowning beneath her hood. She had hoped his...performance...the other day had been just that. Yet it clearly hadn't, not if he was willing to threaten her like that, over the lives of these enemies.

She turned, slowly, her face mostly hidden still beneath her hood, though the shimmer of green energy in her eyes was clearly visible. "You don't really believe that, do you?" She asked, though she suspected he genuinely did, now. Her hands, hidden beneath the sleeves of her robes, began to gather up some of her shadow power, a faint green light emanating from the ends.

"I do. And soon you will believe it as well- once you have properly completed your re-education."

Dooku's voice made it very clear that her 're-education' was not going to be a lot of fun. His hands flexed into fists at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling as he gathered his own dark powers to him.

"Now, then. Are you going to surrender quietly? Or will I be forced to persuade you?"

Edited (tense correction!) 2016-03-03 00:47 (UTC)

"I will never let them, or anyone, inside my head. Never again." There was a firmness in her voice that would have probably surprised people that didn't know her.

"You don't want to fight me, Dooku." She added, raising her hands and letting her sleeves fall down to her elbows. Her fingers were wreathed in green-black energy that radiated a kind of foulness.

Rather than do anything aggressive though, she just gestured with both hands to the sides, and the energy jumped from her hands, to two of the dead Russians, wreathing them for a moment before it seeped into their bodies. For the moment though, nothing happened.

"Just walk away."

"I think not."

With that, Dooku made the first move. He stretched out an arm, fingers extended. Brilliant blue lightning leapt from his hand and crackled through the air toward the Hierophant's head.

Anastasya lifted her hand again, a quick, jutting motion, and a wall of ice burst into existence in front of her just in time to catch the lightnng, sending the bolts skittering across the frozen surface and into the ground on either side of her. A few seconds later, when the wall faded, she was gone, already ducking behind the tank to consider her options. She didn't know how Dooku's space-magic worked, and she hated going into situations without some pre-planning. Or at least an army at her back.

Well, she had a little bit of one, anyway, as she felt her magic finally click in. On the other side of the tank, the two dead Russians she had raised suddenly twisted and shifted on the ground before hauling themselves to their feet, their dead, glassy eyes focused on Dooku.

"Stop him, don't kill him." Her instruction floated in the air, and the first Russian, still armed, lifted his rifle towards the Count as the other began searching around of his own gun.

Dooku half-smiled, and raised both hands. The rifles leapt into the air, followed shortly by the reanimated corpses. The not-Count sneered, then waved his hands to the sides. The undead were flung away in one direction, their weapons in another.

"You would show an imPort mercy that you did not show these natives? This is why the Seminar is necessary!" His voice boomed, and then his arms moved again.

For a moment nothing happened. Then there was a creaking noise that built into a rumble, as the treads on the tank began to turn. The vehicle started to roll, seemingly of its own accord. If Anastasya was behind its front or rear ends, it would be rolling directly toward her to crush her. If she was at its sides, it would just be moving out of the way to expose her to Dooku's vision.

"I would show you mercy, Dooku." She called back, hunched behind the tank. When it began moving she made a frustrated sound and hurried further away, but rather than move away from the tank, she turned to face it, gathering more of that green shadow energy around her hands.

With a toss, the energy jumped up and into the tank, disappearing into the open hatch. From inside there was a low, keening moan, and after a few more seconds Dooku would feel a pushback from the tank as the treads were kicked into reverse by the now-reanimated driver.

Also, was the gun swiveling towards him...?

Meanwhile, the two tossed-away undead hit the walls and ground with heavy thuds and cracks, like dolls. After a few seconds they were both already lurching to their feet, pain ignored, the weapons seemingly forgotten as they charged at Dooku, arms outstretched. It would have been something out of a comedic zombie movie if not for the seriousness of the situation.

"How touching," Dooku rumbled. He saw the tank slip out of his control and begin to aim at him, and then his eyes slid to the side, seeing the walking dead coming for him again. His lip curled, and he drew his lightsaber. The red blade blazed to life with a hiss. "But I am but a servant of a greater power. You will receive no lenience for your generosity!"

WIth that, he ran forward, faster and more agile than any man his age should have been- faster than most ordinary humans, for that matter. The undead could not keep pace. He leaped high into the air, and landed lightly on top of the tank's turret. The saber flashed once, twice, cutting downward. Sparks flew from the barrel of the tank's main gun.

Then the cannon simply dropped off the vehicle with an echoing clang, molten metal glowing where Dooku's saber had cut. He straightened up, then turned to Anastasya.

"You cannot escape, Hierophant."

While Dooku was having his moment with the tank, Anastasya had already moved away, standing on the far sidewalk, her eyes narrowed. Her hands were glowing again, but this time it was blue rather than green.

"Who said I was trying to escape?" She asked, her voice quiet. Then she threw her hands up in the air, and the air above them, twenty or so feet, suddenly burst into dark, roiling grey clouds...and a second later the entire area around Dooku began to hail. Large, heavy chunks of ice that seemed to be hitting everything except Anastasya.

And already her hands were glowing again, sparkling now, white and yellow...

Suddenly Dooku had nothing to say. He cut the first chunk of ice in two with his lightsaber, but there were many more where that came from. Two hailstones struck him around the back and shoulders, and he grunted as he fell from atop the tank.

The Count landed on his feet, though, and raised a hand above him, halting some of the ice in the air. He couldn't hold all of it up forever, though. More and more ice fell upon him, adding to the weight he had to keep levitated, suspended above his head. His abilities were reaching their limit, and the only available shelter was inside the tank- which was filled with the living dead.

"What is this power?" He groaned with the strain. He has never seen a person control the weather or the walking dead in this way before.

Anastasya was honestly a little disappointed by how he fared under her ice storm. She could concede he was powerful, from the way he had created that umbrella of energy, yet...from the way he carried himself, she had expected more.

"It's magic," she said, her voice calm now, one hand outstretched, fingers shimmering as she maintained the spell. "I am sure I must have mentioned it to you once." She looked around as she spoke. Her storm was not, unfortunately, terribly picky. Beyond avoiding her, it had no rules, so her two shambling undead Russians were both stretched out on the ground, bones smashed by the ice.

She let her gaze shift back to him. "Surrender, Count. I don't want to kill you."

Dooku sneered. Surrender was never something he accepted readily, all the less so now that the Soviets had convinced him that he was an expendable weapon to be employed and disposed of For the People.

"Never!"

With that, he flung his arms toward Anastasya. The ice chunks he had been holding aloft flew at her, a blizzard of hailstones headed straight for her.

Anastasya let out a noise of surprise that was very close to a hiss, ducking away from the wave of ice, stumbling as it caught her on the arm and shoulder and sent her spinning around. This broke her concentration on the spell itself, though the hail didn't stop, lasting another ~~two combat rounds~~ twenty seconds or so, which gave her time to duck away, following the shadow cast by the building to the far side of the street. The storm seemed willing to ignore her still, a hole following her through the hail.

From behind Dooku on the tank, the dead Russian inside suddenly rose up out of the hatch, ignoring the hail that rained down around him. His face was half-caved in, and a greenish haze seemed to leak out of his mouth and eyes, none of which he appeared t care about at all.

He leveled a pistol towards the sith, shouting something incoherent in Russian.

This was becoming absurd. Dooku had hoped the storm would abate once the Hierophant's concentration was broken, but chunks of ice were still pummelling and bruising him now that he was no longer focusing on halting them. Oh, and a zombie was about to shoot him. This was hardly ideal.

Well. Dooku had always been a fan of solving two problems with a single action. He gestured again, and the dead soldier's gun crumpled in his hand before he rose out of the tank's hatch. The body floated over to hover above Dooku's head as a macabre umbrella, absorbing the remaining ice pellets impacting his dead flesh. Whatever family this Russian had was going to be appalled if his body ever returned to the Motherland for burial.

"Is this all you can conjure up, Hierophant?" He called out. The not-Count was visibly bowed and wearied by the hits he had taken, but he was not beaten yet.

Anastasya steadied herself once she was on the far side of the street, turning as Dooku started using the corpse as an umbrella. Well, that was a bit of ingenuity she could appreciate. Hopefully he wouldn't hate her when all this was over, assuming she could manage to keep him alive.

He looked...cowled. She would have to do this carefully, it would seem. And she had expelled more of her magic than she wanted to admit on that ice storm. His question, though. Boasting in the face of flagging. It was almost impressive.

"No." She almost sounded sad, really. That green energy she had conjured up earlier gathered in her hands again, but this time, rather than using it to raise the dead, she gathered it up into a ball and hurled it at him. Simple and direct, and followed a second later by another one.

They wouldn't kill him, or change him, they didn't have that effect on the living, but they would...such what energy he had left away.

Dooku's power was low, but his reflexes were still swift. He dropped the broken body of the Russian behind him and reacted. His lightsaber hummed as it flashed forward, smashing the first green projectile out of the air before it could harm him, then immediately flicked the blade toward the second one, a well-practiced deflection that was second nature to him.

He missed.

Count Dooku would have countered the attack with contemptuous ease, but this was a lesser man, undermined and weakened by those who had twisted his mind and sapped his will (not to mention getting beat up a fair bit by a necromancer). He missed, and Anastasya's magic slammed straight into his chest, immediately draining away the last reserves of his power like a mystical leech. Dooku could only groan as he felt his legs give out from under him. He sank to the ground without a word, his lightsaber automatically deactivating in his hand, the red blade retracting and winking out.

His last thought before consciousness left him was a vague sense of relief, a feeling that at last, something was over.

Anastasya couldn't hide her relief that things had ended when they had, resisting the urge to sit down where she stood until her magic could recenter itself. Right. Okay. Her plans for the day had included killing Russians, not capturing a brainwashed space wizard. Well.

She was adaptable.

[She made her way carefully over to him, brushing the ice from her storm away with her feet. It would fade fast enough, probably. When she reached Dooku, she narrowed her eyes, studying him, feeling his...presence. Not dead. That was a plus. Sort of.

With a sigh she pulled her communicator out from her robes and made a phone call. At least she could fix one problem today...

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A Hierophant and a Count engage in battle...

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