2nd July
20:09 -5 GMT
"Pirt pu!" Zatanna back peddles as the blue and red Tiger-striped man falls toward her, turning it into a controlled tumble as he does so. "Who
are they?!"
I fire a bolt of orange energy at the turquoise and red one, a hole opening in his chest to allow the bolt through. Fortunately, it doesn't stop the gauntlet construct from savagely backhanding him across the face.
"Don't know. Some of Klarion's hangers on, presumably.
"
A large weight clearly marked as '10 tons' materialises over John's head. I generate a construct hand, catch it and shove it aside to land in a pile with the others. I think I'm noticing a
theme here.
"bOSS kLARION SAYS-."
"Bnuob dna deggag!" His red stripes peel away from his skin, looping around his wrists, ankles and mouth. He falls, squirming against his bonds. "I think I've worked out-!"
"Cartoon style effects only.
" Cartoons like Road Runner use horrific acts of violence -including people being crushed to death or incinerated- as entertainment. Should have realised that would be Klarion's thing. It also explains all of the dead Coyotes and Road Runners that have been found lately. So naturally his entourage are proof against everything
else. Not quite as dangerous as Onomatopoeia… Or maybe we're the ones who have improved? Of course, that's-.
Another one runs at Zatanna with two sticks of dynamite. As expected, they're marked with the brand name 'ACME'.
"Ekar."
A rake appears out of nowhere, jumping up to slam into the madman's face.
"Erifsim."
The dynamite explodes weakly, knocking her assailant down and covering him in soot. It's not like the cartoons, though. I can see blood all across his skin where the pressure waves have torn his flesh away… Looks like under those garish colours he's Human after all. More blood from his ears where his ear drums have ruptured, and he'll be lucky if he keeps full use of his hands.
Of course, seeing them reminds me of what happened the first time I tried fighting Klarion. I've done a lot since then to try to ensure that that couldn't happen again, but I'm getting a sort of phantom ache from the lower left side of my torso. John…
Really needs to win this.
Another weight appears, this one… '1 Million Tons'. That's a bit more than I can lift. I generate a gravity nullifier construct underneath it before it can start to fall. It stops in mid-air. Okay, it's still got inertia, but if I can shove it hard enough…
"Zatanna, if you get a moment, could you possibly-?
"
"Ekar to edaps. Gid a eloh."
Um. Okay..? The giant weight is
slowly moving, three opponents down and I can't
see any others. I cautiously take a runestone out of my armour's left hip pouch and float it over to the one bound in his own-. It melts before it gets close enough for a reading. That's a problem with this sort of ritual: there's so much magic around that delicate sensors can't survive it. They just get overloaded and break. I've got seventeen less precise ones around the edge of the site to try and record the event… Give us some idea of when it's coming to an end so we can brace for a fully repowered Klarion. Not that we really have anything to compare it to.
"Eb ni eht eloh."
The busy shovel is now out of sight, earth showing upwards and raining down on the surrounding area. Then it-.
"Eip yrujnoc."
A yellow and red striped man shoots upward, propelled by the shovel. He flails around as he falls to the ground, and as he turns to look at Zatanna she slams a custard pie into his face hard enough to break his nose.
…
"I bow to your mastery of cartoon physics.
"
"H
m." Zatanna takes a moment to look down at her fallen opponent, then looks up at me. "Do you think this means that Klarion's
winning, or that he's
losing?"
"I don't really think we can tell. You heard the description John got from The Changing Man.
"
"What do the readings say?" I nod at the fallen.. clown-zebras. "Eb dnuob yb ruoy sepirts."
"Lots of power, far more than when we started. It's
slightly more focused around Klarion… But that would probably be the case if John was winning, because he's.. basically hijacking Klarion's connection, which he-.
"
She nods. "Can't do if there isn't a connection in the first place."
"Any progress with Bedlam's binding spell?
"
She looks up at the pained expression on his purple face. "I
think so, but I don't want to push too hard in case he actually gets free." She looks through him into the ritual area. "I know we talked about what this would be like, but doesn't it seem strange to you that they're fighting some sort of huge magic battle and there's no external sign anything is happening at all?"
"No explosions, fire, lightning, monstrous creatures… Present company excepted. That sort of thing?
"
"Even a… Visible clue about who was winning. A burning candle… Maybe… If the circle was part one color and part another?"
"As convenient as they are, progress bars aren't realistic.
" Ah…
"Unless you can-?
"
"Not with this much chaos magic around."
"Because, I mean, those guys were
annoying, but if there was
actually a way for us to hit our opponents as hard as we can and for the worst that could happen to them be that they get knocked out-.
"
The magic in the ritual space
surges, red light flaring across the diagram! Sympathetic explosions mark the deaths of my larger runestones. Drat. Sephtian is
not -I generate construct railguns and load mage slayers as I take the Sword of the Fallen from its sheath- going to be happy about that.
"Uuuuughhh…"
I'm not..
sure where the moan come from. John's body is sort of slumped forward while Klarion collapsed-. Klarion's eyelids open, the eyes behind them burning with the same red light as his spells. He slams his right hand to the ground, groggily pushing himself upright.
John's still not moving.
Ah,
shit.
Klarion stumbles towards up, the lines marked out on the ground fading away as he thoughtlessly stumbles through them. He squeezes his eyes shut, hands coming up and clasping his head in obvious discomfort.
I'm sorry, John. I train my guns on Klarion's head. Let's see if I can add to his discomfort a little.
"Fuckin' hell."
…
What?
"Oh, hang on."
Klarion stops, looks around and then walks towards the fish balloon. "Won't be needin'
this." He bends down to pick it up, the fingernail of his right index finger grows to the length of a short sword and puncturing the rubber of the fish. There's a squeak as the hole he made sucks air
in, the fish reinflating and pulling away from his grip. It flies a short circuit around him and then flies off into the air.
Then… Whoever that is turns back to face us. "I miss anythin'?"
"Jjjjohn..?"
He makes a gesture of appear with both hands. "What, were you expecting the bleedin' tooth-" He appears to
notice his hands. "-fairy. Oh. Thought it felt a bit odd."
"Are you..?
Stuck..?
"
"Gimme a sec." He clenches his fists, and then steps forward, the surface of his skin and clothing
running as if liquid, gradually shifting until it takes on the form he's more accustomed to. If a little more sombrely dressed.
"It worked?
"
He nods, then shudders. "Never again. That was… Pretty fuckin' horrible." He turns away, strolling in the direction of his former circle and nudging the pile of clothes with his right foot. Klarion turns onto his back. He.. seems to be unconscious. John reaches down next to him and picks up his coat, putting it over his left shoulder. "Right then. We'd best be making ourselves scarce before Nabu turns up. Who wants the Witch Boy?"
