Godsholme - The Duel, Djinn's Shadowscape

[Tristan Raksha]

For the Gods...and for Djinn and Marid's battle.

The backstory? Marid tried to attack Regulus Black on the Astronomy Tower platform. Since Djinn loves Regulus as his best and only true friend, he appeared and saved him by deflecting the Gold Fire back at Marid. Marid fell off the Tower, and Djinn realised that Regulus could see him- only when Regulus was REALLY high.

Djinn knows something bad is going to happen, so he mustered his strength back up and pretty much recreated himself, all for Regulus and Viktor. Now he's invited Marid into his Shadowrealm, the Platinums scape version of Hogwarts, to duel and hopefully be able to take back control of his body and save Reg before the High Gods notice and smite him...or worse, make him a human spirit with no power.

So, let's read on and see what happens...i'll post it as i write it over the course of the next week or so. It's going to be long and dirty and loads of fun for my mind sharing space person dude Djinn :]

[Tristan Raksha]

Marid appeared in a silver realm. It seemed to be shadow of “Hogwarts’. But it was all gilded in silver, and a light tint of lavender. He didn’t like this place, not one bit. The powers here belonged to a different being than him.

“Who are you, and why am I here? Last I remember was that human, and falling off the Tower.” he flared the space around him with gold fire. “That insolent little foo-”

“I WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT MY HUMAN THAT WAY.” A silvery white apparition, barely noticeable against the rest oft the silver, appeared ahead of him. “Regulus Black, Hells, ALL of the humans of this area belong to me Marid the Golden. So I suggest you watch your tone.”

Marid gaped and lashed out with gold fire. “Who are you?!”

“Djinn the Platinum.” Djinn focused his body more, and stood in front of Marid. They looked exactly he same, save hair and eyes and the huge, looming afterimage behind Djinn. He jerked his head back. “See that? Let’s play a game of who’s bigger, shall we?”

Marid cursed mentally and let his own afterimage show…an afterimage that was lacking at least 20 feet. “You’re supposed to be silver! Why are you Platinum?”

Djinn inspected his claws. “I’m surprised no one has gotten it. I mean really. You’re the golden, from the Golden Angels….I was the silver from the Platinum Angels. Why didn’t anyone catch that, hmm? Why?”

He suddenly was gone and Marid flailed godlike in a circle. “SHOW YOUSELF”

“I’m right here, Marid.” Djinn wrapped his arms around the other god’s neck. He nuzzled his golden doppelganger’s neck. “Hello there.” A cold, burning sensation pressed gently against Marid’s Adam’s apple and he froze. Djinn chuckled and kissed his cheek. “See. I’m bigger…and I play better than you.”

Marid didn’t dare to move. He swallowed, and sent a small, thought tendril asking if he could talk. Djinn nodded and swung around, facing him. “You can talk…for a price.” The small silver blade of light was still pressed firmly against Marid’s neck.

“The Price?” Marid asked coldly. “What is it?”

“Hmm…a kiss maybe?” Djinn puckered up his lips and leered. “No? How about you leave and never come back…and give me my body while you’re at it?”

Marid saw his chance. He pushed, and then shot out with the strongest gold fire he could muster. Djinn disappeared and then reappeared, the knife now a huge scythe of silver light tinged in lavender flame.

“That…was incredibly stupid. But I gotta love you for it, since you look just like me.” He said coldly, and the battle was on.

[Nikki Orwell]

[JOEL, THIS IS SO EPIC I MAY DIE A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH IF YOU DON'T UPDATE THIS. BUT THEN I REALIZE THAT WOULD RUSH IT, SO TAKE YOUR TIME. -DIES FROM THE EPIC-]

[Adelia Kara Whiteraven]

[hehe thank you <3]

[Guest]

[Ditto what she said. Just remember not to give anything away ]

[Gabriel Djinn Whiteraven]

[it’s just going to be them fighting, and that’s it.

A naginata, by the way, is a pole with a Katana blade on the end. I didn’t know the real name of one that has a blade on each end, so I just called it a double bladed naginata.]

“That…was incredibly stupid. But I gotta love you for it, since you look just like me.” He said coldly, and the battle was on.

Djinn stepped back and assessed his enemy. In sheer power, he was better. In terms of brains, thought speed, and offensive abilities again he was superior. In body strength and endurance though? Not so much. That was Marid’s trump card, he could literally take a beating and then stand back up, unharmed.

“Are you not coming for me, Djinn?” Marid mocked from about thirty feet away. Djinn struck a pose and nodded.

“Nope. I want you to come to me, babe.” he winked, full of false bravado and courage. “Let me taste you, yeah? I want your pretty golden blood to grace my Realm.” He brandished the scythe. “I wanna feel you on this.” he winked.

Marid just snorted, and cupped his hand which filled with hot, golden Feind Fyre. “Bring it on.” he crouched, and held his other hand behind his back, a short poled, double bladed naginata coalescing in it. He spun it expertly and advanced with a single bound, throwing the fire as he moved.

Djinn just stood there calm and as cool as a polar bear’s left testicle. “Marid, I challenge you to a Chess game style duel.” He didn’t move as Marid’s fire blasted towards him. He didn’t move when the naginata swung towards him in a deadly whirl. Both attacks were futile, and hit an invisible shield and rebounded back on Marid. He flew across the Realm, and then in a last ditch effort executed a flip and landed heavily on his feet, crashing to his knees.

“Seeee. You’re stupid. Not stopping after I challenged you to a Chess Game Duel.” Djinn waved his hand palm down, and an army of spirits appeared before him. They ranged form Elementals he had under his control, to human warriors and magi he had bound to him over his millennia. There was even a Dragonling, and an Sphinx.

Marid waved his hand, and his army appeared. His Elementals and an assortment of other spirits appeared in the space of the Realm. With an unspoken command, the leapt forward much like he had and met Djinn’s spirits in a clash and clang. Spells were fired, jaws were clamped on limbs and sword met sword in a spiritual struggle for dominance.

The dragon roared, his almost adult body wrapping serpentine around a Firemare, his adolescent jaws large enough to rip off the Fire Elementals head and discard it. Marid tried to motion his army to go after the largest threats- the Sphinx who was wielding his Guan-daos and claws very effectively, and the young dragon who was plowing it’s way through Djinn’s enemy. But unlike Djinn’s army, his didn’t operate as a well oiled machine, and he couldn’t force them to act to his wishes.

[Gabriel Djinn Whiteraven]

Djinn was watching as his army tore threw Marid’s like a machine of death. His warrior spirits were all connected mentally through his powers over the mind. Soon there were pieces of spirit matter here and there, all over the Realm, and Marid was standing there army-less.

“Give up yet?” Djinn called across the field.

In answer., Marid again conjured the Golden Fiend Fyre and his naginata and streaked like a bolt of lightning across the space, Djinn dismissed his army with a thought and jumped to meet him. The Fyre missed by a mile, and suddenly scythe and naginata met with a clang and a grunt from Marid.

Fast as thought, he twirled his weapon, catching Djinn off guard. He ducked just in time, but received a slice across his right cheek from the wake of the weapons power-field. As he ducked down, he changed the bulky and large scythe into a dirk. He stabbed up cobra quick and it was his turn to draw blood.

Marid backed up fast, his feet dancing backwards, his hands spinning the Naginata as fast as they could to guard himself. As soon as he was back a far enough distance to be safe from an attack, he clutched his stomach with a grimace of pain. He had a very thin, but long slice between his abdominals. Gold ran down his front, and his robes were split in half from waist to collar.

“Ah. Finally, something about you worth looking at! Wow, we have some really nice abs.” Djinn called across the field, waving the dirk before licking the blood off. “You drew first blood. Your move first.” he stood in a crouch, tense and relaxed at the same time, waiting for whatever Marid might pull.


[just gotta say I really love writing this x3 lol. Is it otay?]

[Guest]

[LOL. 'WE HAVE SOME REALLY NICE ABS.' I LOVE YOU JOEL. I WANT MORE!]

[Tristan Raksha]

[I LOVE THE ENDING. THE ENDING IS AMAZING. IT'S AWESOME. AND I JUST THOUGHT OF IT. WOW.]

[Adelia Kara Whiteraven]

Djinn was just warming up. Over the next 30 minutes or so (if time even existed in Godsholme), he slowly knicked and sliced and cut away at Marid’s body. Golden blood ran all over his almost nude body, and he was panting. Djinn just smiled and ran his hands in the blood on his sword.

“It’s actually really pretty.” He commented, sitting down in a swift movement. “Our blood. Much better than the rust and water humans have.”

Marid nodded and gratefully collapsed, dropping his axe. “It is.”

Djinn cocked his head to the side. “So. Did I even ask if I could take over the body again?” He tested his thumb against the sword edge. “My blade is getting dull.”

“No you didn’t. And I can’t, you know that. We were apparently made to go against each other.” Marid sighed. “They love you, you know. All of them out there. They hated me on sight…and I felt sad about that. You’ve corrupted this body with human emotion.” It should have been an accusation but he was too tired to make it sound like one.

“Yeah I know they do. That’s why I want to go back so badly. Duh.” Djinn stood. “So. We going to go at it again or will you just let me switch places the easy way. I don’t want to kill you.” And he really didn’t. It would be cool to share a body again.

“I can’t let you.” Marid breathed, and launched himself across the field at Djinn, swinging his axe. “You have to kill me.”

[Adelia Kara Whiteraven]

Djinn looked up at Marid and thought that this was an interesting urn of events. First, he had the upper hand. Hell, he should have won ages ago. But Marid was a wily shit and had found his weakness- his one best friend Regulus.

Whenever he got close to striking a death blow, he’d cast Illusion and look like Reg. And Djinn would stop the blow, and be hit in return. There was blood everywhere, they were both completely soaked in it and his Shadowrealm started to fade as his godly powers left him with every drop of silver.

“So the tables have turned. I’ve been talking to your precious Regulus.” Marid stood over Djinn, after their last meeting in the middle of the field in which Djinn just barely escaped being cut in half. “And he’s watching right now. Watching me kill you.”

“Leave him alone. Or I’ll kill you.”

“You’re so human, to say something so stupid. You’ll love being struck down, I’m sure. Just let me kill you.” He closed his eyes for just a second and smiled as he raised the axe he held in his right hand. “Come on. He already thinks your dead. Just let me do it.” He raised the axe, and a drop of silver slipped past his lips surreptitiously.

“Stop Marid.” Djinn whispered as the axe swung down, and his eyes went dull as it sliced cleanly through his neck. Marid grabbed the body quickly and jumped out of the Shadowrealm before he was trapped as it collapsed.

[Guest]

[NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! -tears- Sorry. I reread this in anticipation for tonight's events. IF RACHEL EVER GETS ON TO WRITE THIS FUCKING DUEL BETWEEN HER AND VIKTOR.]

[Tristan Raksha]

In essence it was a pretty stupid plan. Fuelled by desperation, emotion, and a little bit of on the side rum- just to get the human ideas flowing of course -his whole “I’ll-hide-myself-as-a-germ-in-Marid” scheme had actually worked out well. His little death scene? Not so much. He was really dead this time, floating around in the emptiness that is the Holding Pen of the Gods and waiting for someone to summon him to do something.

Basically, for a god there are two afterlives. There’s the one where you get turned into small bits and then remade, and then the one where you’re promoted to an eternal and invincible spirit. He’d already been remade as Marid in an alternate reality which was then super-imposed onto this one thanks to some silly humans and a time warp, causing parent and child to be the same age. -cough cough- He wondered, briefly, what he’d look like as an invincible and eternal spirit. Would he finally get rid of these annoying second set of arms? Or egads, would he be given another pair?

As he floated in blackness occasionally pinpointed and shot through with a little star of light, other lesser gods left here to rot for a few years. Letting his mind expand, he tried to reach out and see if any of them were weak enough to eat, but alas, he was locked up tighter than a demon in a devil’s trap. Nothing could get outside or inside his body, which was a pity since he was starving and a little snack would’ve been nice.

Feeling slightly insane, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

For years. Hours, minutes, centuries he didn’t know. Losing count after 1099893745369 seconds he decided that yes, he was hungry and bored and a little bit unhinged since he was existing and not existing at the same time and it didn’t bother him all that much.

“DJINN THE PLATINUM ONE-” a large, booming, and obnoxious voice called across the emptiness

“Gods above and below must you shout? Geesh.” He swam/floated/existed towards the voice seemed to be coming from.

“GOD OF EARTH, FIRE, WATER AND AIR. SON OF THE THREE ESTEEMED PLATINUM ONES, DEATH OF LESSER GODS, WEILDER OF THE SCYTHE OF SILVER, GOD OF CREATION, GOD OF HEALING, OF VIRTUOUS WRATH, LESSER GOD TRICKS AND MISCHIEF RANK: DJINN-”

“I guess you can’t stop shouting…grr..”

“POWER LEVEL PLATINUM 14, SLATED FOR PROMOTION TO HIGH GOD RANK PLATINUM 1-”

“Oh damn you. If I had powers I’d smite you form heaven to hell, and back again. Wait did you say promotion what the fuck where was the memo-”
“YOU ARE SUMMONED TO A COUNCIL OF THE HIGH GODS TO CONVENE IN LET’S SEE HOLD ON I HAVE A WATCH SOMEWHERE…OH DAMN WHERE IS MY SCHEDULE…”

Djinn face palmed and waited impatiently.

“UMM RIGHT NOW LET’S GO.”

There was a intense sucking feeling. Not like when you get your hair stuck in a vacuum cleaner but like when every little bit of your being is pulled through a straw with breathing room the size of an atom. After imaging that, imagine lots of twists and turns and a few poking things and you’ll be getting pretty close to the feeling of being let out of a God’s prison.

Coming out on the other side was torture in and of itself. The light was everywhere and blinding, and the humiliation of having other beings see you standing there powerless. His usually glowing and sparkling and in general AMAZING raiment was dull and grey instead of the usual vibrant silver and lavender. The jewels that sparked with a life of their own were dull and cracked, flaking with every step he took, and as his hair swished with it’s dead, matte black colour instead of it’s mirror edged silver.

And even past the humiliation, and the pain that it caused to see his fellow gods he didn’t feel any shame. He was proud of what he had done and had no regrets no matter what. He walked proudly, all along the crystal and gold walkways and through the lush gardens. He was Djinn, he had fallen in love with human beings and he had sacrificed himself for a friend, and inside he was truly better than all the rest of the rabble.

[Tristan Raksha]

The God’s Hall was a huge building, easily the size of a million Hogwarts all put together. It was a majestic building, built with a sweeping, delicate idea in mind. Crystal and silver spires jutted from the roof, making it look like a giant filigree crown set in the middle of a forest of gardens and lakes and fountains. There were inlays of different scenes form history, a stained glass window for each of the High Gods and smaller flags for the Lesser gods. Djinn looked for his in vain…where it had rested was only a bare place. Feeling a sense of impending doom and hoping it wasn’t a precognition, he looked for Marid’s banner and say it, golden and flying in the breeze and felt slightly comforted. Dead gods didn’t have banners.

Passing through the large doors, following the invisible booming voice that shouted at him and blared questions about the human world, he passed a statue of his fathers and his Making. It was made from platinum and caved opal, and had light infused into it to make it lifelike. It had it’s own statue since he was the First to be Made. The memories of the pain of being forced into creation were veiled and repressed in the back of his mind, dulled with dampers and spells and various ever present drugs. He had to go through the deaths of all the things he could have been, and then the initial pulling into existence and being bound to a form.

His fathers greeted him, haloed and glowing and beautifully androgynous. They looked female and male, and sylvan. They all three embraced him and he melted into their arms even though he was dirty now. Tainted, broken. These were the only beings in Godsholme he could count on, who would fight for him.

Ariel, in his lavender and amethyst cloaks, his haloes of lotus and purple fire flashing.

Dantalion, his robes of obisidain and ruby, horns of hematite and shadowed in darkness.

Sariel, in gentle greens and moonstones. His haloes of silver and fresh magnolia blossoms dripping dew.

They all were familiar. They were constant, the same and they were love. They were early memories and learning things, they were all the things he had anymore. They were there to watch him die at the hands of their fellows.

Marid’s fathers looked at him in cold disdain, aloof. They were shadowed in cold and gold light, and he couldn’t see them clearly but their hatred and distaste for him was so strong it was an almost palpable presence. And there, a bit more golden and a lot less veiled was Marid, looking at him with wide eyes and no hate or anger. Understanding, and a little bit of fear maybe which shocked Djinn to the core. This was worse than he had thought.

[Tristan Raksha]

“They’re read for you. We can’t be there-” a calming hand against his cheek, a smell of lilacs.

“-But we love you kid. Just remember-” a rough hand on his shoulder and a smell of cinnamon.

“- that no matter what happens, we’ll fight for you.” a soft kiss on his brow, and the smell of mint.

“And we love you regardless.” all three voices and a bit of darkness as multiple wings wrapped around him and carried him into the Court.

He bowed on instinct as soon as his feet touched the ground, and the rapport of a gavel made him turn around. Oops.

“We know you meant well sit down. I need to get back to sacrifices.” Kahli said in a pissed off and slightly amused voice as she inspected her nails.

“Urgh.” Balder, the ever eloquent hunk of muscle stared at Kahli in awe.

“Brother, you’re so annoying. Hi there, fellow Trickster.” Loki waved impishly, and the Trickster Gods all howled with delight at their chosen successor was finally in trouble. About time was the consensus form Fox, and his fellow Kitsune also agreed. Raven just ruffled his feathers and Pa played his pipes bored. Djinn instantly warmed up to them and ignored the others.

“So, we’re here to judge you and all.” Kahli said bored, adjusting her bra so it showed more of her bosom.

“Yeah. For killing a fellow god-” Buddha spoke past his prime ribs.

“-and falling in love with humans-” Balder stuttered out, right hand going under the large table he sat at as he watched Kahli-

“-and not causing mayhem like you were supposed to! Shame!! SHAAAAME!!”

“No, Loki.” the others all spoke at once.

“AND not paying attention to your orders.” Odin boomed. Thor just nodded and twirled his beard and Shiva flailed all over the place.

“Okay. So. Whatcha gonna do?” Djinn asked.

Kahli smiled evilly. “Punish you of COURSE.”

“How?”

“Worse thing for a god possible. Marid will take your place in the pantheon, and you-

“- WILL GET A WHIPPING FOR NOT CAUSEING MAYHEM. AND MISCHIEF-”

“NO LOKI.”

“Damn you all.” he shrunk in his seat and pouted. “absolutely no fun.”

“Will be turned down your promotion and be demoted to-” Odin consulted a few sheets of paper. “To lesser guardian god of Hogwarts students: Regulus Black, Viktor Krum, and Joel Whiteraven-” Raven croaked appreciatively at his descendant’s mention, “and any other student associated with them.”

“And you’ll be-“ Thor finally spoke up, only to be cut off by Poseidon.

“stripped of all your godly powers besides the ability to weave magic wordlessly, and one gift from your fathers. Mind reading, healing, and dream-seering are the only abilities you are allowed to retain.”

Djinn sagged in relief. He had just been given autonomy. Pure freedom at the price of what though?

“No chance for promotion. No gifting of immortality, no deals nor bargains of import. And you’r never allowed to Godsholme again…or until I change my mind.” Jehovah the Builder announced. “Which is a possibility.”

“You’re also going to have to do without a Shadowrealm, unfortunately so any communication with follow gods including your fathers will all be done through the hard channels.” Loki finally spoke up. “sorry bout that mate. Redtape and all that. Official crap I’m forced into.” and with a glare at his fellows he disappeared.

“Well.” Kahli remarked dryly. “I guess we’re finished…”

“Balder sure is finished…get a tissue you brute.” Zeus chuckled. “That’s a small lightning bolt you have there…better not over work it.”

Djinn tuned them out and partied in his head as he was reverse summoned and appeared in a crystal city under a lake, somewhere on a small planet. He was in a crystal coffin, and the body next to him started to twitch slowly….

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