Headed by a Snake

"I'm goin', wife," Bannok muttered. "Take care of me, will ya?"

"Pff, go on," She groaned. "Git."

"Love you too," He scoffed before turning away and breaking into a jog.

One of the flying angels dove towards him with spear in hand, this one with a myriad of wings and ablaze with holy fire.

"⌈Crimson Stride⌋," Bannok swatted it away like a horsefly, a red trail following his weapon. The male angel smashed into a building, its wings broken, a cut on its chest, and with another blood-red slash of energy cleaving the creature into top and bottom.

A slash and magical after-effect?

That... wasn't a skill Ariadne was familiar with. It wasn't the first time Bannok had hid her abilities from her... but it was inconceivable to her that he was drunk-training in the fields behind her back.

In an instant, Bannok was engaged with the tentacle-thing, dodging beams of light and its pounding claws.

Keeping her eye on him, Ariadne turned to face another angel.

She wore a helm that hid her eyes, from which pale blonde hair spilled down her back. Her eight wings glowed on her back as she hovered with her bare feet not touching the filthy, blood-mucked ground.

The angel was above and not equal to the mortals she faced.

[Lay down thy weapons... and allow thy actions to speak for thy sins,] She said.

Her words echoed in Ariadne's mind... the power in them threatening to tear apart not just her mind, but dismantle her entire physical form.

"Not gonna happen, b*tch," Aria grit her teeth, expelling mana outward to reject the mind-effect. "Y'all are just tryin' ta get me got!"

Two long swords appeared in the angel's thin, uncalloused hands, sheathed in holy flames... [I will ask but once, mortal.]

Ariadne spun her heavy wooden quarterstaff in her hands, locking it beneath her right shoulder, "An' I'mma tell you to stuff it as many times as you want, ho!!"

She shot her left hand forward, "⌈Bind Outsider!⌋"

Glowing silver chains erupted from the ground, wrapping around the sword angel's arms and wrists.

[You are making a grave mistake,] The emotionless angel stated.

"Yea, I reckon I've made a lot of mistakes in my life," Ariadne growled. "But marryin' mah husband AIN'T ONE OF 'EM!"

She whirled her quarterstaff over her head, smashing it into the angel's helm. The angel tried to move her arms-- and failed. Ariadne smashed her staff into the woman's clavicle, collapsing the holy whore to her knees. The chains withdrew deeper in the ground, severely limiting her opponent's movement.

"⌈Lance of Faith,⌋" Ariadne blasted the woman in the face from less than a foot away.

...and it didn't do shite.

She groaned in frustration, "⌈Lance of Faith.⌋ ⌈Lance of Faith.⌋ ⌈Lance. of. Faith!⌋"

The angel was injured severely, her hair a mess, her majestic robes torn. But still... she lived.

[You... are making...]

Ariadne sighed as she drew her utility knife and slashed the angel's throat. The rest of the creature's sentence devolved into wet gargles... still echoing magically in her mind.

She clicked her tongue, "Stars above, this don't feel right."

Suddenly, she winced, feeling three more powerful creatures quickly approaching.

Three more angels had descended... and they had her surrounded.

Ariadne cast her fear away and put on a brave smirk... "Appreciatin' you ladies waitin' yer turns."

She pointed her staff forward like a spear, "Now which o' y'all's next?"

She had to stand her ground... not letting them past. Out of her peripheral vision, Bannok was desperately fighting his way toward her... and she didn't like their chances if her angels turned to her husband.

"ARI!!!!" Her loyal and faithful Centurion shouted her name as he cut down another faceless angel with four arms and oliphant hooves.

Thankfully, the angels surrounding Ariadne had humanoid forms and weren't weird, white, tentacle monstrosities like Bannok was fighting.

The first looked the most powerful... golden-armored, golden-winged, and with glowing golden hair and eyes of golden light.

The second was a lithe, silver-haired woman with a subtle smirk on her face. Instead of wings, long translucent and sparkly fabrics floated around her sheer robes.

The third landed on the ground with two heavy clunks, a tall woman, her skin a gleaming metallic bronze and her armor seamlessly melding with her body. She crossed her muscled arms, grimacing.

Just by their presence, Ariadne was struck by the powerful urge to kneel... to beg for mercy... to give praise to some god she didn't care for.

A dragon?

Bull shite. She wouldn't have any of that.

The golden one opened her mouth to speak, [Lay down thy--]

"Oh, hush yer mouth!" Ariadne stepped forward and jammed her quarterstaff at the back of the hovering angel's throat. Shifting her weight, she slammed the woman's head into the road.

She took a quick glance behind her-- the other two hadn't acted yet. The silver one's mouth was so wide she could ride a horse into it. The metal girl had uncrossed her arms, leaning forward and staring.

Were they surprised? And they were supposed to be high and mighty, no-nonsense angels. They were Flamescarred jokes.

Ariadne stomped on the golden angel's chest with her sandaled foot. Her divine spells were largely ineffective against these things... which made sense-- them being divine beings and all... but she had a little something for that.

She pulled on the strap around her chest, grabbing the weapon she had on her back.

Though, like her husband, she declined Calculator Sorina's offer of armor... she did take a weapon from their armory.

She pointed the barrel of the hextech shotgun at the angel's head, its wooden stock resting against her shoulder pocket. She'd heard the guns made in the Eastern States were based off of designs made in Bael Turath... and from the familiar way the Letalis weapon fit in her hands, she feared it might've been true.

"Betch'all were thinkin' I'm jus' a helpless belle with a pretty face, huh?!" She shouted. "WELL, I AIN'T!!"