Eldrin/Vai
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Kaepora Gaebora
Posts: 646
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Post by Eldrin/Vai on May 1, 2014 21:34:27 GMT -6
From atop the tower, the entire city sprawled out like a live map. Lit from above by the austere bluish-white light of a full moon, and from within by the warm orange and yellow of torches and candles, there was little hidden by shadow. The music of the city echoed through the night. A rich man's laughter, an infant's sobs, a whore's moans, some poor soul's screams, and an angry wife's yelling. The scents all mixed in the air around him. Shit and booze and blood and perfume. It was terrible, disgusting and beautiful. This city was raw, it was pure, and it was alive. There was nothing he loved more. Well, maybe stealing... and booze... and women... and, well a lot of things. He just wanted to sink himself into it and let the life of the city consume him.
But he couldn't.
Why?
"Because I'm tied to a fuckin' pole on top o' Clock Tower!" he snarled lashing his leg out at his captor in an attempt to trip him off the tower.
His captor stepped lazily out of leg's reach before responding. "What the hell are you on about, Eldrin?"
"I was respondin' to my inner freakin' monologue, mind yer own damned business, cuntwad."
Cuntwad chuckled at Eldrin's words, shaking his head in that sort of condescending way that made you want to stab him in the dick. "Oh, no no no, my dear friend. You are my business. I have to keep you safe during this attack. We wouldn't want to lose resources, no? And don't be mad at me for the restraints. You have a bad record, you see... running about like a maniac, putting up resistance and such. Well, this time, if you were to partake in such foolishness, you wouldn't see the sun rise, if you know what I mean. Many men will die today... but you can't be one. Your death will come later... after we've... ahem... taken, what we need." He paced as he spoke, turning his back on Eldrin multiple times. That was his third mistake. The second was allowing the thief to draw him into a conversation. The first? Capturing Eldrin to begin with. Cuntwad was a foolish man indeed.
"So we're waitin' atop the biggest fuckin' target in the city? Aye, that's real smart... real safe..."
"On the contrary, this tower is the only building in the city left untouched. After all, my lady needs a throne to sit upon, no?" Fourth mistake, revealing a safehouse.
"A clock tower castle? Now that's classy."
Cuntwad laughed, but it was a dry, humorless laugh. One that less said, 'that was funny' and more said 'I would kill your entire family if I could, and leave you alive to deal with the misery'. He turned and was about to respond... until his heart nearly exploded from panic. For as he turned, he saw a distinct lack of Eldrin where last he left him. And that was where he made his mistake, he hesitated. "H - how- uughk ugh-" His words were cut off as Eldrin slipped the chain, fashioned into a simple dummy cord, over his head and and round his throat. With a knee in his back for leverage, the thief tightened the chain with the fervor of an excited child.
"How what? How did the captor get captured by his captive? Well for one, lemme just say, you made six mistakes today. The sixth bein' that yer last words were freakin' dumb. But more importantly, you forgot something of the utmost importance...
I'm fuckin' Eldrin!"
And with that, he kicked Cuntwad off the roof of Clock Tower. Waiting a few seconds (for effect) the thief wrapped the other end of the chain, which was now rapidly snaking over the side of the roof, around his arm. Then, with a middle finger to the moon (because seriously, fuck the moon), he ran and swan dove after Cuntwad.
As expected, Cuntwad's end of the chain caught on the hour hand of the Clock, lynching him instantly, and giving Eldrin a secure base point for his makeshift chain swing. The thief swung down fast and hard, feet first smashing into the wall just below the Clock's face. From there, after a moment of recovery of course, he rappelled as far down as the chain went. When he reached the end of the chain he kicked in a window and jumped into the tower. From there, he took the boring way down... that is to say, the stairs...
As he stepped out the front door, back into the night air, he felt fresh... almost renewed. Now he just needed to find his friends. And tell them that they were all probably going to die...
He couldn't help but laugh aloud to himself as he strolled down the middle of an empty street.
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on May 5, 2014 21:22:55 GMT -6
Icylius stared into the crowded city with dismay. People. Lots and lots of people. He hated doing this, but it was the only way he was going to eat tonight. His normal abode out in the lost woods had been unusually scarce of game this week, so he had to come to the city to buy food with what little money he had. With a deep breath, he composed himself, and plunged into the chaos.
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Post by Rii/Thell on May 6, 2014 20:31:41 GMT -6
"Why are we here?" Thell asked as she stared at the town. She trusted Vandir, but she really should have been questioning why exactly they had ended up in Termina of all places. She especially should have been questioning it before she reached the gates. Like, the moment they set foot in Termina. Sometime around then. The last time she had been there was with Riinari during her one year of service.
"Because it's Clock Town," Vandir answered, flying around her.
Thell frowned. "You could have just told me that and we wouldn't have to make this trek at all."
"Oh hush, Miss Bitter. I thought maybe you'd want a look at the clock tower."
"Why?"
"I had a theory about your magic, that's all. Something to do with gears and what not."
Thell chuckled, having decided to give up on her pointless arguing and embrace the place. "If this was a field trip for me to observe a clock I could have named a few closer places," she replied with a chuckle.
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Eldrin/Vai
Administrator
Kaepora Gaebora
Posts: 646
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Post by Eldrin/Vai on Aug 2, 2014 3:03:36 GMT -6
The Colonel
"That don't look pretty at all, Colonel... We gotta warn 'em..."
The colonel exhaled slowly in a futile attempt to calm her pounding heart. She was getting far too damn old for this sort of bullshit. She was going on 47, and most of her superiors seemed to think that she was long past the age of retirement. For once, she was beginning to agree. She wanted nothing more than to go home and tend to her garden or whatever the hell ladies her age were supposed to do. It didn't sound fun... but anything was more fun than staring at the army that would surely be your doom. It mattered little, she had long expected to die knee deep in a pile of her foes' corpses, her blade in some poor bastard's sternum, a dozen arrows in her back, and a spearhead in her throat. Of late though, she had began to hope for a pleasant, quiet death. A civilian death. But now she saw the weakness in that desire. She was a warrior, and she going to die with honor, with glory, and with blood. The only concern she had was for her son. He was a captain of the forward assault force. A strong boy, but he wouldn't just be on the frontlines, he would be over them, running straight at the enemy lines.
"Horus, warn the mayor. Take my horse and ride as fast as you can. Stop for no one. The fate of the city depends on the actions we take in these next few hours... if we even have that long," she began, snapping the telescope that she'd been looking through closed. "Seth gather up a working party and get me some oil boiling. I'll send out messengers to the gates... we'll have them all secured before their first wave reaches our walls."
"Um... Colonel? That's not their first wave... that's their fifth down there right now. The first couple are already in the city." Seth said, a bit to casual about the matter.
"How in the- ugh!"The Colonel rounded on him, stepping toward him a little faster than she should have. She stepped right into the blade he was thrusting into her abdomen. Excruciating pain shot through her entire lower body. She couldn't even scream, for the pain was too much. He pulled the blade out and she fell to her knees. She hadn't even put on armor. Hells, she was still in her bedclothes, and all the protection they offered. Her hand was clamped to her stomach, but blood and bile flowed freely through her fingertips.
"Don't worry, Colonel... I didn't let them in... I'm not that much of traitor." Seth explained, casually wiping his blade off with a handkerchief. Behind her she could hear the enemy scuffling with Horus. The noise he made as they cut his throat was something between a grunt and a sob. A meaningless noise to accompany a meaningless death. She could feel the sting of tears welling up in her eyes. "I just... agreed not to die. Not such a bad thing, really. All I had to do was kill you and then I get to go free. Not half a bad deal, you know?" he said, chuckling. He was still chuckling when his allies grabbed him and threw him into the grasp of the dying Colonel, tossing her a knife.
Before he even realized what was happening, she was stabbing him over and over again, as fast as she could, screaming her lungs out. She knew she was just helping the enemy get rid of a used up asset... but she didn't care... she had to. She still had a hand on the knife's handle when the last bit of life left her. As she died she could hear one of the enemy chortle something along the lines of, "Aaaaaaand, that's why we had her assassinated."
Eldrin
It took an hour to think of a plan, and quite a bit more time to acquire the resources. But Eldrin was almost sure he had a foolproof plan. It was simple, yet brilliant. It was elegant, yet utterly mad. It was... ok... it was cross-dressing.
And so it was, that the thief stood in the middle of the street, dressed like a particularly manly hooker. He had borrowed the slutty dress from a local whorehouse, the garish makeup from some random home he broke into, and the suffocating cloud of horrible perfume (an entire bottle) from an old lady's handbag. And, of course, he had broken backstage at a theater to steal a frayed blonde wig and a harness mounted with two ridiculously huge, absurdly fake boobs on the front. He hadn't bothered to shave his legs, and he had a bit of stubble sprouting on his face for added effect. He was just wondering when the attack would start when he heard screams from down the street. He thought it would have more warning... but it just kind of happened. All around them, soldiers just sort of... appeared... and started killing.
"Oh shit fuck damn! The city's being raided and I'm dressed all slutty, I sure hope I don't get raped!" the cross-dressing thief screeched in an overly high pitched voice, putting a little too much emphasis on the word "raped". "Ahem... I saaaaid, 'I sure hope I don't get raaaaped...' you know... by the invading army." he repeated, throwing in a creepy wink in the way of a couple newly arrived (and utterly confused) soldiers' way. The soldiers, four of them, just stopped. All around them was carnage and chaos... but they seemed in this bizarre and unpleasant bubble with the creepy manlady down the street.
Seeing the invaders still cautious stares, the thief seemed to grow impatient. "Motherf- seriously?! Rape me, damn it!" the thief yelled, his voice reverting back to a man's. He started walking toward the dumbfounded soldiers as fast as he could in heels (which he wasn't half bad at, by the way), rummaging around between his giant fake breasts, looking for the handle to his machete. Well, it wasn't his machete really, he'd borrowed it from a tool shop down the road. The soldiers never even saw it coming as this big busted woman swaggered over to them like a confident man in stilettos, whipped a sword out of her tits, and cut the closest throat to her.
As their comrade hit the deck, deader than Argoth used to be, one of them let out an, "Oh shit, what the fu-" but Eldrin put the blade straight into his mouth and out the back of his neck. The other two had already drawn their blades when the thief let his second victim fall, not bothering to recover his misappropriated blade.
Eldrin looked between his two armed and armored opponents, then down at his own lack of weapons. After what seemed like a moment of thought, he flashed them both a smirk. "Damn... I do hate a fair fight... I prefer the sort of fight where you die at the hands of a dozen thugs and I just sit here... chillin'... Don't worry though, I won't go easy on you just for the sake of being lazy." One of the soldiers swung his blade in a swift arc, down at the thief's blond wig and the skull underneath, but Eldrin danced out of the way, slamming his body into the other soldier as he did. The soldier fell to the ground with a clatter of armor, but managed to keep a hold on his weapon, his friend was not so lucky. Before he'd even turned to swing on the thief again, the thief had already undone the straps holding his sword arm bracer on. As the soldier swung again, Eldrin ducked under his blow, slipping under his opponents guard and literally pressing his body against his enemy's. The thief stared into the soldier's confused eyes, their noses touching, and if you ask Eldrin... they had a moment... right then and there... they connected at a spiritual level... Oh yeah, and Eldrin slipped the soldier's own dagger out of his belt a jammed it into his, now exposed, sword arm. The man let out a cry and dropped his sword and arterial blood gushed forth like a geyser. Eldrin caught the blade with the his toe, and kicked it back into the air. He deftly caught the sword in one hand and then, side stepping away from the soldier, brought the sword down into the gap between his helmet and chestpiece with savage force. The blade hacked about halfway through his throat before it stuck. He ripped the blade out of the corpse just in time to spin around and parry an incoming blow from the last remaining soldier. As both blades recoiled back, the thief thrust himself forward, jamming his shoulder into his enemy's plated chest. As the other stumbled back, he brought his blade up and stuffed it into his opponent's unarmored armpit. The blade burst out from the man's collarbone, splattering his face in his own blood. Eldrin let go of the handle and waited for the soldier to fall over dead... but he didn't.
Apparently, this guy was tough as hell, because even with a blade lodged in his vital bits, he was still feebly swinging his sword at the thief, albeit to no real effect. The thief regarded this like one might regard the nibbling of a pesky puppy. "Hey! No! Nnnnno! Bad invader! Stop that!" When that didn't work, he snatched the blade out of his supposed-to-be-fallen foe's hand and hacked the arm off. The thief discarded the sword, and picked up the dismembered arm instead. He gave the almost corpse a dismissive little thump, sending him crashing to the floor, and strolled away down the street to find more invaders.
It was just as he turned the corner to another street that he saw Icylius walking his way. The thief's bright scarlet eyes seemed to get just a little brighter with recognition. "Oh! Oooh! Icy! Hey, Icy, over here! he yelled waving the detached arm above his head and yelling a nickname that he was pretty sure Icylius hated, "It's your old pal Eldrin! Remember? You, like 68 percent hate me... but that other 70 percent is love... I know it, even if you don't... plus-" and so on, he rambled as the arrows and bolts began to fly out of the shadows and off the rooftops. Two struck some poor woman by Icylius, killing her nearly instantly. Another struck a watermelon salesman in the leg. A couple others snapped against the cobblestone around Eldrin and Icylius's feet and against the buildings behind them. It was only when their assailants jumped out into the street that the thief pulled a one sided wood axe out of his dress and began to party. A building to their left exploded with some projectile, collapsing in on itself. Clearly, shit was about to get real. "Guess we'll catch up later, this army wants to play..." he said, twirling the axe and lodging it in some poor invader's groin.
Na'ako
"Nago?"
"Na'ako."
"Nako?"
"Nah-uh-koh."
"Nanuhko?"
"Where did you even get the other 'n'?! That makes no sense... It's just vowel then vowel!"
"Whatever, kid... just take your wage and go," the old man grunted, tossing him a little pouch.
Na'ako caught it gleefully and headed for the door. He knew it contained only the most paltry of payments, but it was still his. Pushing a cart around Clock Town all day selling (sort of) fresh bread and pastries wasn't a particularly difficult job, but it was a bit of a pain when the customers started haggling. Trying to convince people that the stale bread was baked earlier that morning, attempting in vain to get a fair price for loaf after loaf. It was actually kind of stressful.
The bakery door opened with the jingle of a little bell, and he stepped out into the fresh night air. With an outstretched hand he beckoned toward where he left his old whalebone staff. The staff flew threw the air and into his grasp, as he walked off down the street. It was a nice night. The moon was bigger than normal. It seemed like there were a million more stars in the sky than there should be. Even this late, there was life in the streets. Every sort of man and woman, with all kinds of intentions. There were even a couple children roaming about, himself included. He had long lived in a small tribal community, where almost nobody stayed up this late. Only the village guards, most of whom slept on the job anyway. There had been no attacks of any sort in generations. They were a peaceful tribe.
He walked amongst the crowds, people watching mostly. They interested him, they always had. But something felt wrong. People were coming out of the shadows all around the little market square. Men in armor, but not the same armor as the city guards.
And then the city suddenly exploded into madness. The armored men drew swords, almost simultaneously, and just started hacking away at the crowd. Blood, steel, and screams filled the air. Panic filled Na'ako's heart, sending his blood pumping and his adrenaline flowing. He pushed off of the ground with his powers, sending himself flying into the air just as a soldier swung at him. While in midair, he focused on the wall of a building and pulled himself to it, leaving the force pulling on his feet, so that he could stand on the side of the building. It had been less than a minute since the carnage started, and not everybody seemed to realize. In fact, just below him, a strange red haired woman was walking down the street, completely unaware of the chaos just down the street, apparently talking to a little flying piece of wood. Well, up until the point that a decapitated head rolled out of the alleyway, passed her feet, closely followed by one of the men in armor. Na'ako jumped foward, then pulled himself to the street below, landing right between the girl and the soldier. Before anybody knew what was happening, the young shaman sent a blast of invisible force from his palm, into the soldier's chest. The man flew back into the alleyway like he'd been caught in an explosion.
"Hey, c'mon, let's go. It's dangerous here," he said to her, offering his hand. But as he turned he lost all focus on what she might be replying. He just sort of stared. For he saw now that huge patches of her flesh glowed with the same ethereal pallor that he saw spirits in. It was bizarre, as if her skin were a patchwork of living and ghostflesh. She was beautiful, he could clearly see that, but he definitely abnormal. Not to mention the fact that a little bit of her spirit was floating above them, inside a little toy dragon. He realized that he was staring just a moment too late, and looked away. He was going to apologize, but more soldiers were closing in, and he had no intention of getting caught. He grabbed her by the wrist and gave the ground beneath them a good hard psychic shove. They soared high into the air, and he pulled them lightly onto a nearby roof a couple streets over.
It was only after they landed that Na'ako noticed the archers lurking in the shadows of the rooftop. But even as they pulled arrows back in their bowstrings, a far worse dilema made itself known. How? By way of a low, dull roar, the sound of something immensely heavy barreling through the air. The shaman boy turned to his new patchwork friend, but it was too late. The building exploded beneath them, and suddenly he was tumbling back. He got lucky, and just rolled out into the street with some of the debris... his friend apparently didn't share his fortune. He didn't even a chance to mourn, cause almost immediately he was distracted by the sight of a crazy man in a dress swinging an axe at one of the attackers. That was when he realized that this area was swarming with enemies... five of which were now surrounding him.
The young shaman held out his staff in what he assumed looked like a fighting stance. He could have just jumped away again, but he couldn't bring himself to leave this crazy manlady, or his patchwork friend, who could still be alive in the rubble.
"Well... shucks."
"I think he meant shit!" the crazy man in the dress yelled, ripping off one of his fake breasts and smothering an enemy with it, all while he laughed hysterically.
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Azrael/Iris
Administrator
A drunk monk who hates social events and worms
Posts: 933
Sexuality: Yes
Relationship: Single
Played By: Your mother
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Post by Azrael/Iris on Aug 10, 2014 16:41:54 GMT -6
The carnage and chaos unfolded below as a rather large merchant sprinted down an alley way. He moved quite spritely for a large man, but he took in rather large breaths. He was not starting a training regiment. Unless you count running for your life that. He did not look where he was going and ran smack into a brick wall and he fell flat on his large ass.
Tears welled down his face from a mixture of fear and pain. Shaking he pulled himself up and looked frightfully in the air as if he was expecting the sky to fall down.
He let out a sigh of relief a moment too soon as something cold and metallic entered his spinal cord and he dropped.
A hooded man pulled his hand out from his target, a small blade retracted back into his gauntlet and he whispered something in an unknown language before stepping over the corpse. The man stepped out into the light where it shined down on a mark on the back of his attire. A Triforce with a blade through it. He was a member of the famed Assassins of Hyrule. In fact, he was their master. Torak Wolffang. His name was whispered amongst all in fear and respect. He kept his hood over his head to hide his yellow wolf-like eyes. For only those in his order and anyone unlucky enough to pull his hood down in a fight (or a lucky lady during a one night stand) saw those eyes.
"Another contract. Another payment." He smiled. He spoke with an accent that was like an Italian one. Torak was about to turn to the right when something ran past him. A lady? No. A cross dresser. Torak thought nothing of it until he heard the voice.
"Eldrin?" His eyes widened and he sprinted off after the cross dressing thief. Surely where he was going there was trouble.
The thief ran surprisingly fast for a man in heels. Torak had difficulty keeping up. Eventually he caught up to find Eldrin and two others surrounded by a group of thugs.
The assassin pulled his sword out with his right and a hidden blade protruded from his left gauntlet and he leapt into the fray and stabbed one thug in the juggular and blocked the sword of another with his own.
"Eldrin! I wish I could say I am surprised to find you dressed as a woman. But I honestly am not." Torak jokingly said.
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Post by Rii/Thell on Aug 19, 2014 11:02:35 GMT -6
Thell wasn't sure whether or not to describe herself as surprised when her conversation with Vandir was interrupted by screaming and battle cries and a whole manner of chaos. On the one hand, she had come to expect crazy things, as Vandir had made it clear he was not a watch dog as her wolf creation was and would therefore rarely alert her to oncoming madness. On the other, she was already in the middle of a mostly unfamiliar place where she had thought extremely violent invasions wouldn't be occurring the one day she unknowingly returned.
Either way, if she wasn't surprised by the sudden killings, she was surprised by the flying boy with a staff.
"What a good word to use," she noted with an arch of her eyebrow as she pulled out Lumin, her favored battle axe. In the middle of doing so, she noted that the magical boy must have finally noticed her burns with the way he was so intently staring at her skin. Thell wanted to say something sarcastic about telling him the mysterious back story of her scars later - the thing that tended to lure many a man into her bed - so that they could do something about the attackers now, but he had already grabbed her wrist and then they were flying. That was new. She'd have to add that to the list of strange occurrences, including zombie hordes, being set on fire, and more. Her life was beginning to sound like a lethal yet intriguing advertisement.
And it only got better when the building that owned the roof magic boy had selected to land on exploded. That's right. Exploded. When swords were not enough, people liked to resort to powerful blasts of fire. Using powder. Damn the inventor of that particular weapon.
Thell didn't even dare to breathe, refusing to let the scorching air into her lungs as rubble fell, her along with it. Luckily she twisted and turned and maneuvered so that a large slab didn't crush her flat, and that large slab allowed for her to jump off of it to escape the rest of the large chunks. Despite that, there still ended up being a lot of rock around her when she landed.
Where was Vandir?
Pain lighting up the right side of her back was her first answer. His right wing must have gotten scorched in the explosion.
With a sharp inhale she finally opened her eyes to find him attempting to fly to her but always leaning right due to the sudden imbalance of weight. The edge of his carefully carved wing was burned away. As Thell finally inhaled mouthfuls of heated air, a few colorful words left her lips and she held up her hands with the pain continuing to eat at her right shoulder blade. Vandir nodded in understanding and the green threads of her magic slid out of his body, allowing the pieces to collapse into her palms, the burnt wing included. She still felt his wound in her back, but it was steadily growing to a dull ache. In a few hours or so it would be gone completely, and she could return him to life without fear of feeling it. But the wing would still be damaged. Damn, she'd need to carve a new one.
But that was not her main concern. Instead, Thell shoved Vandir's parts into her pack and snatched Lumin off the ground where she had dropped him. Then she rose, almost elegant despite the rubble, and scanned through the smoke for magical boy.
When she found him, Thell also found Eldrin, though not as she had last seen him. She approached just as a hooded man did, and he stole the chance to be the first to comment on Eldrin's fun attire.
"And I am not surprised to see what a poor excuse of a woman you are," she remarked with a grin, ignoring the pulsing in her back. "Next time, let me transform you. Can't have you disgracing the sex."
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Eldrin/Vai
Administrator
Kaepora Gaebora
Posts: 646
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Post by Eldrin/Vai on Aug 30, 2014 23:14:12 GMT -6
random soldier ran at Na'ako swinging his blade wildly but the shaman shot a blast of energy into his sword, sending it flying off into the distance. The next blast sent the man flying backward into one of his comrades. He sent two more guards flying over the rooftops around them, and brought a final one flying at himself, before he stepped aside and swung his staff into the oncoming man's face. The man crashed to the floor, more than a little unconscious. Of course, being a pacifist, he wasn't all that ok with beating up these men... but then again, they kind of (entirely) deserved it. From the corner of his eye he caught the glint of patchwork girl's soulskin, and was relieved to see that she was alive. But he was quickly distracted by this man-lady who seemed to know not only Patches, but the other two men on the street as well.
"ABOUT DAMN TIME YOU FUCKERS SHOWED UP! The city was under siege for like a full minute before you decided to mosy on over and get started!" he yelled, sarcasm practically dripping from his words. Na'ako saw the shine of a golden fang protruding, a bit grotesquely, from his bottom jaw. His insane looking eyes were the wrong colors, and his face was scarred... in general, he looked like the sort of fellow the shaman knew to avoid. "Well, let's go, we got a day to save!" the crazy man said ripping his dress open at the chest and stepping out of it. He kicked off his heels and wiped away most of the make-up, and smeared the rest. At the end, he was standing there in nothing but a pair of woolen underpants, which he didn't seem to find embarassing at all. He ran off down the street without another word, axing some poor soldier right between the shoulder blades as he did.
Na'ako looked over at Patches and the two men, a little confused... but in the end, he figured he might as well follow. It seemed the crazy guy had a plan at least... The shaman shrugged and ran after the crazy naked guy.
Eldrin ran down the street, the wind refreshing on his bare body. If it weren't for the fact that the city was exploding around him, and invading soldiers were everywhere... it might've been a nice night. At the moment he had to get his friends to the city square. There, they'd find most of the citizens. He was still lost in his thoughts when rounded a corner and ran straight into about twenty invaders.
Being Eldrin, the thief had no intention of dying valiantly. He immediately turned and ran back around the corner. When Icylius, Torak, Thell, and some weird tribal kid arrived he started pointing frantically at the adjacent street, giving his and Kadina's handsign for 'a fuckload of guards', as if the others would understand it. It was at about this moment that one if the soldiers came around the corner. But he wasn't attacking... he was fleeing. The man hadn't gotten nearly far enough away when a mysterious figure came flying after him, surfing on a momentum-propelled decapitated corpse, and wrapped a sickle-like sword around his throat. They crashed to the ground, and as they did the attacker twisted, raking the invader's throat open with his scythe sword. After a moment, the mysterious man stood up and wiped himself off. He stood a little over 'too fucking tall', and looked like he weighed about as much as a particularly bulky ox, with a muscular build to match. His hair was dirty blond on his head, but brown on his scuffy beard. His eyes were big, brown, and kind of dumb in a sweet sort of way, like a dog's. The blade he slain his enemies with was an intricately wicked, yet fancy affair. It was wrought in fine steel with gold trimmings, and a little statuette of a beautiful, naked, sobbing woman where the pommel should have been. The blade itself was long and, at it's midway point, curve sinisterly into the crescent of a scythe.
"Goddamnit Ross! I thought you were dead already..." Eldrin yelled at the big man, giving him a shove that did absolutely nothing. He peeked around the corner and saw confirmation... he was pretty sure if he added up all the pieces, there would be the same amount of soldiers he had run into before. As he turned around, Ross tossed him a bag.
"I found your clothes, Eldrin. I thought maybe you'd gone streak-thieving again... then these guys attacked... and they hurt this puppy... and... and I-"
"Minced 'em? Yeah, I noticed. Don't worry buddy, we'll get you a puppy, 'kay?" Eldrin said in a softer voice than normal, as if he was talking to a sad child. He started to get dressed as he introduced the man, "This big dumb guy is Ross... he's my, um, insurance. A bodyguard and a thug... general muscle, I suppose," he explained.
When he'd finally slipped on his boots, and fastened Avarice to his arm, he figured he might as well give them the plan. "Ok, here's what's going down. I have it on good authority that Clock Tower is going to be a safe zone. The soldiers are not going to attack it. We need to gather as many civilians as we can, and herd them over to the tower. Once they're inside... hopefully Faro or Iona will show up... or Ilya and Torir. That way we can use real firepower on these bastards, without worrying about injuring civilians... if not... then I guess it's up to us normals. So yeah, we split up here, and gather the civvies, meet back up at the Tower. I suggest we go in pairs, one with Icylius and one with the wierd little brat... since they can both fly. Me and Ross have... business to take care of.
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Post by Rii/Thell on Sept 26, 2014 19:46:11 GMT -6
Admittedly, Thell had not spent a lot of time with the wonderfully mischievous and maniacal thief, but he had such a strong sense of character that it was easy for her to adjust to his antics. So when he started ripping off his horrid female disguise and making a break for it down the street, she simply snorted and followed, allowing her one eye to glance over at the hooded boy before doing so. This allowed Eldrin enough time to get ahead, and when he returned abruptly all he had to offer in explanation was a bunch of hand signals. "What the hell?" Thell snarled, twirling her axe impatiently at his attempts just as a fleeing guard appeared. Along with what Thell would have once referred to as a Muns, which was an abbreviation for Muscle Monster back at the brothel. Certain prostitutes were better at handling certain customers than others. A Muns needed to be carefully assigned a partner because of their ability to effortlessly overpower. Of course, this particular Muns appeared rather dimwitted and sincere as he started to go on about a puppy while handling his wicked weapon. And Ross wasn't exactly a Muns-y name.
"Business during a battle? Not suspicious at all, Eldrin," Thell remarked with another twirl of her weapon. "But I suppose if we're picking partners I'll pick my little savior from earlier.
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on Jan 26, 2015 13:36:16 GMT -6
Icylius inched his way through the crowd, careful to avoid big pockets of people huddling around certain merchant booths. Then, without any warning whatsoever, the entire town went to utter chaos. The shrill, piercing cry of a woman broke out to the right of where he was, and when he looked to see what had everyone in a panic he suddenly wished he hadn't. The scene lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime in his head. It was as if he was sitting in a theater, and the soldier and woman were performing on stage, for what he was seeing was too horrifying to be real. With one clamp of his hand onto the helpless woman's shoulder, the soldier aggressively forced her to kneel. Icylius stood frozen, paralyzed by the sudden and violent change the night had taken. He desperately wished that just once when he left the lost woods that things wouldn't immediately turn to shit. The paralysis lasted up until he saw the soldier wind his elbow back to finish the poor woman before him. Icylius didn't normally like to involve himself in the affairs of the outside world. If it were up to him he would stay in the lost woods forever, or anywhere for that matter, that was far away from civilization. There was however, one thing that Icylius really hated more than being dragged into problems that weren't his, and that was killing. After having to endure so much from his past, and from adventures with Max, Icylius came to despise the cruel things that people would do to one another. The last thing he ever wanted to be was a hero, but the boy had a profound grip on him that compelled him to act.
Just as the sword was descending into the woman Icylius rose his arm and flexed his index finger out while cocking his thumb up in the shape of a pistol. He pointed it in the direction of the soldier and focused intently, feeling the telekinetic energy flow through him. It was now or never, he thought. He had a split second to save the woman about to die, but in that split second the chaos of the town stole his chance. In the instant that Icylius flexed his thumb down to release his kinetic bullet, a hysterical civilian crashed into him, throwing off his shot and knocking him to the ground. The kinetic blast veered off over the soldiers shoulder, and as Icylius descended toward the ground he witnessed the blade of the soldier sink its way into the chest of the helpless woman before him. The life drained from her eyes and blood began to leech its way across her torso. As Icylius stared he felt something very close to empathy for what was perhaps the first time in his life. The world seemed to stop for just a fraction of a second while Icylius digested what was happening to himself and what had happened in front of him. Disbelief mixed with horrified sadness showed on his face as the soldier wrenched the blade from the woman. The soldier then turned in his direction, and even amongst the hysteria Icylius knew that he was the soldier's next target.
The young teen pushed himself up off the ground and set his expression to violent determination. It was time Icylius began helping those around him, for he could defend himself while they couldn't, and Max would find that most noble.
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