Mike/Garen
Hylian
Do not... underestimate... him.
Posts: 160
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Post by Mike/Garen on Jan 2, 2013 12:08:22 GMT -6
Garen stepped into the cellar where the poor woman's body hanged. The smell of death was never so strong and sickening.
"By the goddesses," Garen thought as his eyes set on the corpse. As a soldier and assassin, he has witnessed mutilations in the past. However, this one possessed a sort of importance to him. As if it would be wrong not to feel sorrow for the woman. Unlike the others, Garen was not as impacted by the grotesque display. He knew what needed to be done and he must focus on the objective; find the one responsible, and kill the son of a bitch.
His eyes shifted over to Azrael, who was working to communicate with the spirits. Garen let him work and began an investigation of his own. He scanned the hanging body for a clue. Multiple lacerations streaked across the flesh; some wounds shallow, others deep. There were even a couple holes that drilled clean through the sinew and bone. As numerous as the incisions were, none would be enough to kill a person. Then, Garen examined the organs that were plopped on the floor in a horrid pile. He listed each organ: stomach, large intestines, small intestines, liver, pancreas, gall bladder, spleen, and what seemed to be part of the urinary bladder. Most of these parts were in good condition, except for the stomach which was sliced clean open and the intestines which had cuts on the ends, maybe it was to make them easier to spill out.
Garen deduced that the killer likes to torture the victim with lesser wounds first and used different tools to inflict pain. After he/she had their fun, they would carve open the abdomen to kill the victim slowly. The killer didn't touch the rest of the organs because the victim is already dead and would offer no more satisfaction.
He idled over to the stone table to survey what clues it may hold. Traces of blood lined the top and that was it. Drops of blood made short lines on the tabletop, each line was spaced from one another. Perhaps this was excess blood that dripped off the tools; nothing new here.
Outside the house, Garen continued his investigation. He looked around, Eldrin seemed deeply shaken by the incident, his hand constantly gripped on the hilt of his blade. Even drawing it when Blade appeared. He looked back around and found that Kadina and Torak standing over something slumped on the ground.
"Hello friends, what have we here?" Garen greeted. Kadina had a sickened look about her and Torak looked as serious as one could be. Garen knelt down by the puppy and studied the carcass. Death's scent was rich, this pup was dead no longer than three minutes. Only a couple deep cuts across the torso and head were made before the vulgar gutting. It matches the same way the woman was tortured in the house. The deaths were linked and it appears that the killer was in a hurry. "Rushed work is sloppy work," Garen thought. "There must be something they left." And there was; although far between each other, drops of blood formed a trail leading into a dark alley.
Dark alley, blood, killer on the loose; it screamed "ambush", but there could be another clue. Honestly, Garen would be surprised if there wasn't a person with a large knife in that alley. He cautiously followed the blood to the alley. Suddenly... the trail went cold. No more drops of blood continued the path. Garen closely analyzed the alley; no doors, no weapons, no secret buttons, levers, or whatever else. "Damn, this guy is crafty," he thought.
Garen stepped out of the alley, disappointment accompanied him. His blood boiled, whoever committed such heinous acts must be ended, the sooner the better. A gust blew through the village, it carried a newspaper in it's winds. He caught the paper with his boot and gazed upon the front page. As luck would have it, the front page news was a string of murders and disappearances in the village. Garen slowly walked back to his friends, gathering every scrap of information the newspaper contained. The articles told of eight murders occurring in the past month, both men and women. Not only that, but animals have also fallen victim. Cuccos, cows, cats, they have all been reported dead or missing. The articles describe the murders as "grisly" and report that "their guts spilled out in front of them". Further details say the town guard has been unable to uncover evidence on who is the culprit. "Whatever the guard can't find, our syndicate will," he thought. However, this newspaper was not published today. The date this paper was distributed was two days ago. No doubt the numbers have climbed. By how much? Who knows? A lot can happen in two days (believe me).
He reached Kadina and Torak and displayed the paper for them. "Be on the look-out," Garen advised. "There is a serial killer in our midst." The front page headline read: "Death grips Kakariko".
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on Jan 2, 2013 20:19:07 GMT -6
It was cold. Freezing in fact. A gust of wind bit at his face and he pulled his coat in tighter as he began to walk the back alleys while pondering his next move. What new piece should he create next? Who should bear the honor? Where should he go to do it? After several minutes of thinking about new ways to present his art he derailed his train of thought to what the person(or people) thought about his magnificent new artwork. Did they love it? Hate it perhaps? He knew he loved it. In fact, he wished he could go back and take another look. A overly joyous feeling began to rise up inside him again, and that ever so persistent itch in the back of his mind began to rage. It hadn't been an hour since his last kill and he was already experiencing overwhelming urges to find someone new. Who would it be this time? He began to think. Another woman? A man maybe? Perhaps a small child would do the trick. Animals began to bore him. He had already killed so many and they never were as much fun as humans were. Humans had emotions that could be expressed through language. They could plead, cry, scream, bargain. They could show him what they really are in the last few moments of life. He'd met them all: cowards, masochists, fearless individuals, religious nuts, morons. Cowards were his personal favorite. He loved it when the begged for their lives. Such imbecilic behavior aroused him, making his purpose of making them into art all the more pleasurable. He wondered how his next victim would react. He hoped it was a coward like the last few, but maybe he'd get a fearless person, ready to die but not afraid of him. He liked those people too. He could admire them, but nonetheless killed them just the same. Next he wondered how he might portray his next victim. Perhaps hang them from a high place and light them on fire? Crucifixion was always something he wanted to do. Maybe he should...
*Belch*
He stopped abruptly at the end of an alley. How long had he been walking? When he looked outside the alleyway it appeared he had walked all the way to the other side of the village, which was at least twenty minutes from where the skulltula house. A nightmarish grin spread across his face. That belch wasn't of his doing. He turned around to witness a homeless man sitting about halfway into the alley. While he was walking he must have been so deep in thought he mustn't have noticed him. As he walked toward the hobo he noticed the state he was in--inebriated, perfect. With a half empty beer bottle in one hand that was laying limp at his side he slumped up against the wall in his filth. Scraps of whatever trash he had scrounged through lay next to him by the other hand. A semi long, patchy, and revolting beard clung to his face; it had bits of his last meal in it and part of it was matted to his neck with something sticky. As he drew nearer the stench of his grime hit him and he almost choked on the shear overwhelming odor. He almost considered leaving this man alone because he was so disgusting, but the itch in the back of his mind was oh so persistent. His clothing was mere rags: a tattered light brown overcoat with a stained white undershirt, long baggy brown pants with various holes and tears, boots that were worn down to the soles, patchy black gloves, and a black ten gallon hat with most of the top cut off. The cold didn't seem to bother him. The homeless man reeked of booze, piss, and overpowering body odor as he knelt down in front of him. The hobo's eyes were closed but he somehow knew that somebody was in front of him, and when he opened them the artist could see that his eyes had massive bags under them. They were sunken in almost to the back of his skull.
"Whadaya want?" he slurred.
An eerily deceiving smile stretched onto his face, "How about I take you someplace warm and buy ya a bear eh? After all, nobody should be alone on the holidays."
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Post by Iona on Jan 2, 2013 22:22:52 GMT -6
She could smell it before she even came near to the place. It was a collection of smells and scents too familiar to her to stir any nausea. Squatting down on the roof of the Skultulla house, Iona peered down at the ground, listening in to the group.
Something gave. A slight frown fixated itself on her lips where they were eternally raised just a few minutes ago. Her eyes lost their brightness as she overheard the conversation, her eyes focused on the ground, her ears moving outwards slightly to listen. She found stomach, open and exposed stomach, intestine and intestinal contents strong in the scent, but above all, blood. Most Gerudo of good fighting ability were trained to be trackers, so pinpoint the individual scents was simple to her, but each smell slowly undid something in her.
She stared at the crate that she managed to get off her rump, studying it, thinking about it. Her mind churned back to the subject of herself, though. She was a killer. She was killer among a race of killers. She rocked back and forth as she saw more and more familiar and some unfamiliar faces approach the house but she found she couldn't move. She had spotted Kadina and Eldrin, but she felt frozen, and above all, she didn't feel anything at all. No happiness to see them, no disappointment, no dislike just...nothing.
The nothingness had a name. She didn't believe in the Goddesses, or much of anything other than light, but she called the nothingness, the void, The Religion. She had seen people believe in certain things, so much to an obsessive level. The void, the nothingness was her own Religion, except, it worshiped her, obsessed over her. The Religion wouldn't leave her alone, not even when she was happy. She tried to smile, but her face seemed frozen, which, in this wind, it probably was. All she knew, is that when she acted happy, eventually she was happy, and The Religion stepped back for a few moments.
It took her a bit to breathe it out; she likened The Religion to have frankincense, breathing in the void into her lungs so she had to breathe it out. She felt better then, alive, and feeling, though slightly. The cold bit her limbs and she found she could stand. She caught sight of Blade, and a slight something of something wriggled in her chest and she nodded, to try to encourage it. Blade was friendly, Blade was nice, she reasoned to herself. Blade was polite. Blade might have a Religion of his own.
She smiled then, entertaining the notion she wasn't the only one with the void and the fear. This momentary happiness was stolen with the realization that she wasn't feeling with her heart, but with her mind. She needed to feel something. Genuinely. Not from her head.
Desperate, she threw the crate at Blade, feeling somewhat pleased when it crashed and splintered at his feet. "Spiders," she called to him, then jumped off of the roof, letting electricity run up and down her in case somebody wanted to do her harm. Yes. Like spiders, feeling, tingling, barely noticeable, crawled back into her. What was this spidery feeling? She did not utterly like him, but it pleased her to see him, especially with the hood off. Iona felt...glad to see he was fine and was curious to where he had been. The scent no longer bothered her; she became accustomed to the reek of death. The electricity stopped flowing and she impulsively, with some rejoicing, gave Blade's arm a punch, to show the hard won feel. Only she could know it was hard won, and her smile grew, then replaced the frown. The Religion retreated.
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Kadina
Administrator
If you're bored then you're boring.
Posts: 379
Played By: MOjO
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Post by Kadina on Jan 15, 2013 3:21:53 GMT -6
Torak's voice made her jump. It was deep, rough, with a peculiar... growl to it? She wasn't sure, but it seemed irrelevant given the circumstances. “Torak!” Overwhelmed with relief, Kadina ran to embrace her dear friend. Her cloak flew back behind her shoulders as she rushed toward him. It swayed in the stillness of the night after her impact, arms flung tightly around his neck with her head burried in the nook between his shoulder and his neck. His emitted warmth took her away to long nights spent next to a campfire. Flashes of laughing eyes and gestures of endearment and acceptance among fellow bandits flickered in her mind. It had been a while since her last encounter with Torak and something about the mangled canine before them upset her stomach in relation to her Carnavorian friend. “Ah... you are not very pleased with the mutilated corpses of dogs... or any species, si?"She nodded her head, not only to reply, but to warm her nose against his clothing through the commonly known remedy of friction. That's when Kitty's last heroic neigh echoed in Kadina's mind. She was a defenseless beast, struck down for having a true notion of love by another “beast” in the name of said emotion. What? Damn love. It's so wishy-washy. Love takes on the mentality of the one feeling it, and if the one feeling it would harm another being for the sake of it... is it still love? Kadina thought about the puppy. She loved a puppy once. And everyone knows that puppies love people back. So what's the big difference between puppies and people besides appearance and other physical things? She knew the answer. A puppy wasn't at the top of the food chain. Therefore, when a puppy is unjustly attacked by a human, it's just about one of the lowest, sickest things a human soul could do. And that goes for any defenseless victim. A puppy has no way to defend itself, and if the person killing it isn't doing so for any beneficial reason in the circle of life, what's the point? A puppy can't match a sword with its barely developed canines anymore than a horse can match a bolt of lightning with its hooves. But this puppy wasn't likely to be defending anyone at it's time of death, which said a lot about the killer... Her stomach turned in knots as her memory replayed Kitty lying motionless on the ground. She could see the particles of dust that began to settle upon her and burry her before Kadina could properly do so herself. She remembered returning to Zora's River the day she had regained consciousness, but the body had been removed from the river bank. It wasn't out of character for the Zora people to keep their riverside clean, not to mention there was still no telling how long Kadina had been “dead.” Still... she regretted that. Kitty deserved to be sent off right. She deserved to be returned to the Earth by the one who loved her most, the one she died for. Kadina released Torak and spotted a dancing reflection of light which she followed back to Eldrin's sword. Blade stood next to him. She greeted them solemnly and was about to tell them about the puppy, but something about Eldrin's sickened expression hinted that he already knew. That... or he knew of something worse. She scratched the back of her neck nervously, for she wasn't use to seeing the ol' thief look so green around the gills. Something was definitely amiss. Not just in Kakariko, but internally with Eldrin as well. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, thinking that if there had been less people then he would have been more inclined to tell her, but that wasn't the case and perhaps now wasn't the time. However, his obvious discomfort troubled her. Eldrin and Kadina had camped out on many occassions for a heist or journey, what have you, and spilt more of their personal perceptions of the world than Kadina would have probably normally done, but there was a rare bond of trust between them and their other friends. It never felt wrong telling them what she thought, or any of her stories, so long as they were genuinely interested. And to be honest, there was no regret to that. Their stories had sparked many fond memories of laughter and understanding that the typical two or more souls rarely found in connection to anyone else. She was lucky. Garen then came upon the group seemingly all business. Yes, something was undeniably wrong when a guard was... well... on his guard. He greeted them, and Kadina returned the friendly hello with a light, acknowledging punch to the shoulder as he passed. Her knuckles rapping his armor a little harder than planned. She recoiled and winced as she shook the pain off her hand while Garen went to analyze the pup. Kadina looked back at it. Her face was still wincing and wouldn't return to normal anytime soon judging by the evening's disturbing occurrences. She pulled her cloak back around her shoulders and wrapped it around her arms tightly like a cocoon. The warmth brought back another memory. One of a summer day hunting with her father. He was training her to use a bow. She had finally made a kill. *** "Are you afraid of dying?"Kadina didn't answer. She was young. She didn't know much about death or what it really entailed. She knew that it was natural and that that was a weird question for a father to ask his daughter while standing over a dead hog. He knelt beside the poor creature. She copied him on the other side. Kadina blinked several times at him... just waiting for his wise voice to break the silence. "Don't be. Ever." Huh?He pulled the arrow from the carcass and wiped it off. "People think there are these goddessess that rule the land. They believe these goddessess made everything there is. They think they're the only ones capable of judging us and that if we're good, they give us eternal paradise, but if we are bad, then we are condemned to the depths of the earth. You can believe that, if you want. But that is not what our people believe. Do you want to know what we believe?"Kadina nodded her head. Her tiny ponytail bounced up and down. "These goddessess don't work like that. You see... in all of life, there is energy. There is good, and there is bad. Positive, and negative. Everything you see has energy. Tiny molecules are bouncing around in a frantic disarray right before your very eyes... and you can't even see it. Right now. Everything exists for one another.""Everything?""Everything.""What about the trees?""The sun and water.""What exists for the sun?""The moon!""What exists for us?""The sun, the moon, the trees, the water, the animals, each other. Everything exists for us."Everything?!" He nodded. "Woooooow. So... are we Gods?"Kadina sat on the backs of her legs. Her hands were gripping her bow and resting on her bent knees. "Not quite, mírah*. In a way, yes! Because the Gods are the energy I told you about... and since that energy is in you, yes. You are a piece of Din, Farore, and Nayru. But so is everything else. We are all connected by invisble threads.
Do you know why I have been training you to use your mind instead of violence?""Because we don't kill our victims when we steal.""Why do we not kill our victims, mírah."Kadina didn't know the answer. "Bandits believe that all is one and one is all. If we are all one, what's yours is mine. Right?" Kadina nodded. "So we take what we need from others," He drew his hand out in a snatching motion just above the hog, but not aggressively. More like permissibly. Like the gentle spirit he was beneath his warrior persona. "but we don't harm them because it's not our right.""But I thought we were practically Gods? Doesn't that mean we do what we want?"He laughed. "That's why I told you not quite. There is one God, mírah... It's called The Universe. The Universe knows what it needs more than we do. It keeps everything in balance on its own. When humans intervene... The Universe loses balances. We must never corrupt the balance of The Universe. We can only play our part in keeping it stable." "How do we know what our part is?""We don't. The Universe leads us as it needs us. Where you are is exactly where you're supposed to be.""What if I die?""Then The Universe used you for what it needed, but you are never truly dead."Kadina looked puzzled. "There is something inside you that makes you alive, Kadina. It's not the sun, or the trees, or the animals. Those feed your body... but energy does not always feed. Energy simply exists. That is your soul. And when you die, the energy served by the trees and the animals will return to the earth and grow into a new tree that will serve someone else's life, but the energy that makes up your soul will go on. The Universe will use that energy where it needs it."Kadina frowned. "No. I don't want to be a slave to The Universe. I want to be free. Always.""You can't fight The Universe, Kadina. We all have to succumb to it eventually. It is greater than us.""I'll find a way." She smiled and held her fist infront of her in determination. "That." He stood up. "Would require corruption. Unbalance. Reconsider in a few years, ayee?" He stood up and smiled at her as if to mock her ignorance and naïvety before lifting the hog over his shoulder and turning away. It was clear that she had a lot to learn about The Universe and energy... but all she could think about was her next kill. *** Suddenly, a crate broke nearby and Kadina was snapped from her dream. *mírah- a term of endearment for daughter. Like the Spanish term mija [very similar. See what I did there, mhm.]
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Eldrin/Vai
Administrator
Kaepora Gaebora
Posts: 646
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Post by Eldrin/Vai on Jan 28, 2013 22:36:51 GMT -6
Eldrin smiled half-heartedly at the sight of his friends. He really was relieved to see them, but that happiness was difficult to express in the wake of the murder. "You might want to head inside," he muttered to them, standing up and stepping to the side to let them in, "or maybe you don't.... nasty business. Azrael's in the basement, with the... body..." he said no more, and didn't really expect them to question it. They could see for themselves, because he certainly wasn't the one to describe it for them.
Of course, he wasn't too keen on exposing his friends to such a thing, but he knew they could handle it. They had all seen plenty of gore in their time, and none of them were as weak as he was. Not to mention, they needed to see it for themselves, to understand how serious this was. This madman was going to have to be stopped, and they were the best candidates for the job.
(I know, that was short and kind of boring... I'll try to modify it later, add a little fluff and whatnot.)
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Post by Faro/Blade on Feb 5, 2013 15:15:33 GMT -6
Blade greeted Kadina back with that spoke to wonder of the solemn air that clung to the gathering of familiar faces. It was odd, especially for Kadina and Eldrin, to be acting so gloomy. The metallic scent of blood filled his nose and he knew at least part of what was bothering them. It was not the cold, or the lack of drink, but blood and death that bogged down the theives. Not always, of course. Both were capable combatants without any fear of blood of gore, at least not in the heat of battle. Perhaps they had stumbled upon some poor soul.
Blade did not have much longer to ponder the states of his friends as his concentration was shattered by a call of "Spiders!" and a crate shattering at his feet. He had little time to speak before Iona was at his side, smiling and giving his a rm a firm and friendly punch. He couldn't help but smile back, it was all in good fun. Others outside their circle of friends might have been offended, but he had grown accustomed to Iona's mannerisms. He rubbed his arm lightly a few times. "Hey Iona." He greeted casually. He wondered if she had picked up on the air of the scene that played out at the moment.
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Post by Rii/Thell on Feb 26, 2013 20:09:30 GMT -6
Thell had been looking around for a while and was beginning to doubt her little wooden dragon. "Yup, I should have gotten out our little wolf friend. I'm beginning to think your nose is broken," Thell began, glancing around as she checked yet another alley. If there was blood, it was likely going to be in an alley or abandoned house, otherwise there would've been a larger commotion. However, so far she had checked about half the alleys and abandoned shacks and had come up empty. Thell twisted her neck to look at the wooden dragon on her shoulder and her suspicious gaze scanned over Vandir's carefully crafted nostrils. After brief inspection she gave a dissatisfied 'humph'. "Nope. Your nose is in fact just fine. You really weren't made for this stuff," she noted.
Suddenly she was falling. With a sploosh and a squelch she found herself covered in... Goddesses, please let it be mud, please let it be mud.
"And you weren't made for walking, apparently, mistress. That mud is not so-"
Thell was about to thank Nayru it was mud when she spied figures up ahead. "Hush, hush! she quickly interjected, wrapping a hand around her dragon's muzzle. She yanked him upwards, seating him on her slimy shoulder as she stood. . "And I thought I was lucky I hadn't landed in shit." Not wanting her entire night to be bitter, Thell went towards the people, leaving the mud where it was, a thick, oozy layer on her body and clothes.
There was the chance that they would actually worsen her spirits. They could have been prostitutes and rich men heading out for a drink, or returning from a couple dozen. Lucky for Thell, she actually recognized them. Or most of them, anyway. It seemed they were about to head inside a building, and Thell figured wherever they were there was something interesting. perhaps the blood Vandir had talked about? "The gang plus extra looking," Thell paused as she examined their faces "depressed... Guess I came to the right place? Just... not to the mood I was expecting."
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Post by Argoth/Maximus on Mar 17, 2013 21:49:14 GMT -6
The homeless man smiled happily when the strange man in front of him mentioned more alcohol. "Sure..jus' lemme get up," he slurred. It took him several attempts to manage stability after the already numerous attempts it took him just to stand up. He placed his unoccupied hand against the back wall before he turned to the stranger and said, "One sec..I think I'm gonna hu--" Before he could finish he projectile vomited all over the ground in front of him and partially on himself.
That was it. This vile, loathsome, utterly revolting cretin had forced him over the edge. Everything that made killing so pleasurable, everything that made his art so special, all of it, came flooding to his mind all at once. Uncontrollable stimulation flooded his brain and that overwhelming urge to create another piece of magnificence burst forth. Had the hobo not been admiring his pile of regurgitation he would have clearly seen the expression on the artists face.
Insane joy and eagerness burned behind his eyes and the friendly smile he had on vanished to reveal a pure evil grin. Like lightning he moved forward, latching onto the grimy collar of the homeless man and pinning him up against the wall with excessive force. Another swift movement removed the half empty bottle from the homeless man's hand, and another shattered half on the wall.
The sheer fear of what was happening immediately turned the heavily intoxicated man sober.
"W-what are you doing!?" he yelled. The fear in his eyes was of a proportion not known to any person in Hyrule. And the artist loved every second of it as he stared into the face of his prey.
"Painting." He answered with a malicious smile. And the bottle descended toward the poor man's face.
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Kadina
Administrator
If you're bored then you're boring.
Posts: 379
Played By: MOjO
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Post by Kadina on Jun 15, 2015 11:42:43 GMT -6
Kadina was about to step inside of the skultulla house to see for herself the level of homicidal insanity that had taken place when suddenly Thell walked up, covered in mud. "Looking swell, Thell." She wanted to laugh, but mashed her lips closed as the corners of her mouth tried to resist stretching into a concealed smile. She supposed it could be worse. The gerudo woman could have fallen into the pile of puppy guts around the corner instead. Which reminded her, this probably wasn't the best time to be distracted by jokes. There was some sort of killer on the loose in Kakariko. Maybe Kakariko. For all they knew, he was long gone by then. But it was best to be on their guard. The good news was that they now made up a fairly large group. Blade, Torak, Eldrin, Iona, Thell, Azrael, Garen, and herself. Fun crowd, for sure, and anyone that tried to mess with them was certainly an idiot. She felt safe and perhaps overly confident. It was the villagers she was concerned for. And on a night like this, anything could happen. "The body.. inside... it's fresh, I presume? Surely there's still a strong scent that we could follow. Maybe Torak... you can track whoever did this, can't you? I'm not too crazy about what I've seen so far, but if the body inside is as bad as that puppy, I think we should find the son of a bitch that's doing this. They're clearly on some kind of a rampage since they murdered the first innocent thing that crossed their path on the way out the door from just having murdered somebody.
Twisted fuck."Kadina looked around. "With the amount of blood that's been spilt, there's gotta be a trail. Let's split up. Thell, how about you and I take to the roofs. We'll stay above ground level and try to scope things out. My guess is that he'd be sticking to the most obscure places. Hopefully, the bastard isn't hiding out in the well.
Torak, perhaps you can follow some sort of a scent? Let's catch this creep already. It's too cold to stand around and be scared. Not to mention, every. damn. time. we are all together, we've got some ass wipe threatening lives and shit." Kadina jumped up a stack of crates onto the roof of a nearby building. "Can't we just have a few drinks and take it easy for once?" With that, she threw her hood over her head and took off out of site waiting for Thell to catch up.
Tag: Argoth/Maximus, Rii/Thell, Faro/Blade, Azrael/Iris
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Eldrin/Vai
Administrator
Kaepora Gaebora
Posts: 646
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Post by Eldrin/Vai on Jun 22, 2015 3:21:53 GMT -6
Eldrin's almost flipped the fuck out when Kadina started off on her own. He had confidence in Thell, who was about to join the bandit girl... but the worry was still there. But then he realized how stupid he was being. He'd seen Kadina fall into a million situations that she shouldn't have walked away from... and still, she walked. He had no reason to worry. Shaking these thoughts from his weary head, the thief stood up without a word, and planted his cutlass firmly in the door of the Skulltula House and carved deep into the wood. Four vertical lines, and two horizontal ones across the four. None in there group would likely understand that message, other than Kadina of course. But to the underworld, to the crooks and hobos and hookers that might seek to squat in the old abandoned house, it was a clear sign: 'NOT SAFE, DANGER WITHIN'. Yet, it wasn't even really for them that he did it. Maybe it was to honor the poor woman within...a thief's tribute.
With that he was done, and he sheathed his cutlass, once again looping it onto his belt. "Let's roll then. Az, you can sense when a life is extinguished, no? Furthermore, those that have just recently ended? You and I should make our way to the windmill, from up there you should be able to get a full read on the village," he suggested. He was trying to regain his positivity... shelve this fear, this anger. Already his color was returning, and he even managed a(n admittedly fake) smile. He began walking down the street in the direction of the windmill blades, just barely visible over the rooftops around them. Just to be sure, he pulled his dagger from its scabbard and held it in his off hand... this wasn't a night to be caught off-guard.
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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 Jul 17, 2015 17:47:57 GMT -6
Torak knelt down and overlooked the mutilated body. His stomach quivered slightly, but the Assassin kept firm. He had seen many horrible things within his career... but this was one of the worse. His keen yellow eyes scanned the corpse. It was a beautiful and bloody masterpiece. Whoever did this was one sick puppy. The Wolf stood up and nodded at Thell. "Yeah. I'm able to track this son of a bitch." The Assassin replied and turned on one heel and walked right back out the door. Thunder boomed throughout the night sky and rain started to pelt down. Torak scrunched up his nose and took off into the dark, scent strong. The scent of blood was always strong. Azrael's head snapped up and looked over at his cousin and he nodded. "Yeah. I'm able to do that. If this bastard has killed anymore tonight then we'll know it." Azrael said and dug around in his bag and pulled out a small blue rock and tossed it to Thell. "Here. I'll speak to you and Kadina through that. Torak left too quickly before I could give him one. If I find anything I'll make contact with you."
Tag: Eldrin/Vai, Rii/Thell, Iona, Argoth/Maximus
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