La Storia della Arcana Famiglia [T]
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January 20th, 2013 (6:23 PM). Edited January 20th, 2013 by Legend.
Flint and Marcus de Telarius- #7 The Chariot, #8 Strength
Marcus proceeded with Flint and the other Swords out of the mansion and towards the town below. Blowing right past them was Aerous, screaming “I'm off to save the townspeople!” as he ran. As this was no time for lectures or prolonged orders, he proceeded after his subordinate down to the town below, until they separated into different sections into town. He called back to the others for a moment before proceeding into the town with his brother.
"Swords! Disperse and help with the evacuation of Regalo. Defend those who haven't left, and form defensive positioning to prevent Moreno's men from reaching the docks!"
Marcus turned to his brother, the sound of Moreno's men chanting coming closer and closer, some now even within sight, and more coming into vision. "You're with me. Are you ready?"
"Ready as I will ever be. What's the objective, exactly?" Flint asked. "Kick a lot of ass, or something else?" Flint never worked with the Swords before, often avoiding the sector since working in Cave. Therefore, it was a fair question as he never understood Swords' mission statement, despite Marcus spewing it out more than Flint could care to remember. He never really cared what Marcus had to say anyway.
Marcus adjusted his gauntlets onto his hands, making sure the metal was tight across his hands. He clenched it a few times to be sure, then replied to his brother. "Citizens are fleeing to the escape boats. Moreno's men are in pursuit. Because of our predicament and our duties to Regalo, we are placed in a position that is not winnable. So we aren't here to kill everyone in sight. That would be impossible anyways by my estimation on their numbers. Our primary objective is to help the people escape safely, and ensure Moreno's men don't reach the escape boats. Everything else is secondary." Marcus looked at his brother, trying to see if he understood what he meant. He tried to put it in a simpler way for him to understand. "We're not here to win, Flint. We're here to make sure we don't lose."
Flint gawked at Marcus for a moment before shaking his head: "Not here to win, but not here to lose. This isn't exactly time for a philosophy lesson, Marcus," Flint sighed. "I will just follow your lead then. Let's just get out of here and survive. And try to help as many people as possible. That sounds a lot simpler than your plan." In Flint's mind, Marcus was being almost too noble for his own good. That or too loyal to his own job. As far as Flint was concerned, La Famigila was done. At least for now.
Marcus shook his head, running with his brother into town. The place had seen much better days, many houses and buildings burnt or burning. Though the chanting was in the air, Marcus saw no immediate targets. He tried to look inside some of the homes, checking to see if anyone was inside. He covered his mouth with his arm as to not inhale any of the smoke. "Check the houses!" He yelled, coughing for a moment through his sleeve. At the corner of his eye, however, he saw a figure approaching, more than one in fact. Flint stayed close behind Marcus, mostly due to his own lack of tactical policy when concerning "checking houses" but there was a moment in which Flint unnerved.
"Marcus, don't you get the feeling we are surrounded?"
Backing away from the window and closer onto the street, Marcus looked around, noticing men most likely under Moreno approach the two of them from every side. A dozen of them, but the looks of it. Marcus looked around, backing away into his brother's back to ensure vision on every side. "Keep back to back with me." He said, looking around, examining the soldiers. Most had swords and other similar weapons, but four of them were armed with guns, waiting to pull them out of their holsters. Back into his brother, Marcus whispered to Flint. "How's your kicking power?"
"Not bad I guess. I prefer punc-"
"Get kicking!" Marcus yelled, as the four men with guns took them out, and aimed. Marcus grabbed hold of his brothers arm, the Arcana mark on his back lighting up as his superior strength took hold, whirling his brother around the circle with the intent of disarming the men with guns. Flint, caught off guard, was dazed and confused for all of a second before catching on to Marcus' foolish concept of a plan, but nevertheless fell into line. Flint used his limited flexibility to kick away the guns from the Moreno soldiers, disarming them well enough. Marcus spun around in a circle, ensuring he got all of the most dangerous weaponry out of their hands, before flinging his brother at one of the disarmed men. "Alright, now show me your punching!" Flint, helpless in the air, wasn't able to display his punching skill, instead clumsily crashing into the disarmed foe. Flint rolled off the man and rose to his knees, punching the Moreno solider in the face with a loud crunch of the nose. The man was unconscious and his face was a bloody remainder of a once strapping young man.
"That was easily the dumbest thing you ever done," Flint said to Marcus. "Next time, I write up the plan."
The soldiers enclosed in on the two brothers, giving Marcus no chance to reply back to Flint. Swords raised in the air, two soldiers came at Marcus, with one more behind then. As their weapons came down upon Marcus, he lifted his arms and blocked, grabbing one of the swords with between his hand while the other he parried off with his wrist. With the sword he grabbed between his hand, he once again dug into his Arcana power, and snapped the blade in half, before kicking the soldiers in the stomach, the added strength he infused in the kick sending him a good few meters into the distance. The other soldier, Marcus closed in the distance after parrying the sword, and punched him right at the jaw, the snap of bones instantly heard as the man came to a halt on the ground. The third soldier, who was behind the first two, stood paralyzed, but Marcus efficiently didn't halt his offensive assault, still holding the broken sword of the first soldier, and shoving the slightly blunt weapon into the eye of the soldier, forcing his way in with his superior strength. The screams of the soldier echoed off of the walls of the town.
Flint got up from his kneeling position, staring down the other soldiers that enclosed the brothers.
Those guys are in my way of getting out of here. If I take them out, I think we would have an escape route.
Flint took a fighting stance, raising his arms up and positioning his left foot as a lead foot, before taunting his opponents with a vulgar gesture. It was always easy fighting an angry opponent. The first solider was unarmed and lunged forward with a wide right hook. Flint ducked under the attack, locking the the solider into a full nelson hold before dropping the solider onto Flint's knee. As he limped down to the ground, Flint drove his foot onto the face of the fallen enemy, effectively curb-stomping the solider. "Next," Flint said. The next solider was equipped with a sword and it definitely made him feel powerful. Swinging madly in some misguided attempt to avenge his friend, Flint was able to side step around the solider, delivering a parrying elbow strike to his back. Another solider decided to join in on the assault with a sword of his own. Flint barely dodged his attack, receiving a cut across his face as a mark of war. "Three's a crowd," Flint complained. The second solider came down with a vertical slash, but Flint charged forward, throwing the solider over him into the first solider, sending both down to the ground. Determined to win still, they both charged forward and Flint was more than ready. Parrying one sword attack, Flint disarmed the first solider, delivered a quick jab, and used the disarmed blade to stab the second solider before he could complete his overhand chop. The first solider roared and charged forward, however Flint kicked him in the knee with echoing snap before delivering a knee to the groin. Groaning over in pain, the first solider pleaded in mercy as he cried in pain on the ground, curling up in a fetal position. "I think I will leave you alive to tell the tale."
Marcus looked over at his younger brother, seeing how he was progressing, and noticing one of Moreno's men sneaking up behind him. In a quick motion, Marcus took out the blunt weapon stuck in the man's face, the man screaming as he did so. Then, using his strength, he tossed the blunt sword right at the back of the head of the other soldier about to attack Flint, the man instantly collapsing on the floor, dead.
"Nice move," Flint commended. "Didn't see that guy. Thanks."
"Always mind your surroundings." Marcus said to him, moving across to once again be back to back, examining who was left.
"I count five left."
"Sounds about right." Marcus replied, watching the ones in his vision as they encircled the two. "Wait for it." He stated, expected one of them to strike in first. The remaining soldiers encircled them, none acting yet. Marcus waited patiently, merely observing. He was surprised Flint also maintained his cool during this moment too. In fact, Marcus had been worried he would have to keep an eye out for Flint, but the man was handling himself like any other Sword under his own branch. After what seemed like an hour of intense staring, one of the soldiers yelled and charged, his sword raised and poised to strike. Marcus leapt forward at the man, blocking his strike with his gauntlets, holding the man's blade in place. Seeing an opportunity, Flint seized the moment and speared the helpless solider, nearly breaking the man in half on impact. At this moment, another one of the soldiers charged in. Marcus and Flint looked at each other, nodding heads before locking arms and meeting the charging man's run with one of their own, their arms meeting the man's neck, forcing him onto the ground, his head hitting the concrete hard, and upon impact he moved no more. A solider stepped forward with a sword, swinging with precision, hoping to lob off Flint's head in one fell swoop. Flint blocked the attack, grabbing the solider's wrist and with his free hand punching the solider in the gut, chest and chopping at his neck. As the solider stepped back in pain, struggling to breathe, Flint deliver a knee and elbow combo to the gut and back of the neck of the solider, causing him to crash to the ground like a sack of bricks. Another soldier went for Marcus with his sword. Marcus held his ground as the man brought his sword down. Marcus breathed in heavily, then out as he focused his power into his arms, and snapped the sword in half with his punch as the man brought his sword down to strike at him. The soldier looked at Marcus, and then at the broken blade, wondering what he should do next. He never gave him a chance as he grabbed hold of the man's shirt, forcing him to Marcus, and then with all his might, tossed him into the burning building behind him, the crash of debris and wood caving in on him as he impacted. His screams could be heard through the flames, serving as no comfort for the only remaining soldier still among them.
He looked at the two brothers, sweating dripping down his forehead, and his hands shaking. He had no weapon in his hands, and no apparent way out. Marcus positioned his body facing the man, clearly waiting for him to strike, but his body language saying that if the man didn't soon, he would. In a final desperate act of misguided valor, or whatever it was, the last Moreno soldier charged at Marcus, who stood his ground. He swung in with his fist, but Marcus merely caught the man with his arms, harnessing his Arcana mark to lift him into the air above his head.
"Help me with this one," Marcus said to Flint.
Flint simply smiled in response. "Right away, sir." Flint jumped up and grabbed the final solider by his head and using his gravity manipulation powers, drove the solider to the ground an accelerated rate as Marcus fell back further speeding up his descent to the ground. The solider plummeted into the ground with a tremendous impact, leaving a small crater in the outline of his body.
Marcus stood up, examining the body on the ground before meeting Flint's eyes. He was impressed with the way he handled himself so far. It was probably not the best place to admit so, but he was proud of the way he fought so far. But instead of saying so, Marcus merely nodded at him, his way.
"Alright. Come on, we're still not out of this yet."
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