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Post by Albatross Trevelyan on Dec 14, 2008 15:15:55 GMT -5
"Well," Dracon said speaking up, "I could just became a very, very small wyvern..." Dracon coughed. "Very, very small..."
Dracon clapped his hands together, his flesh and blood swirling, and reconstructing itself in the air. First a tiny skeleton formed, petite in size, no bigger then the forearm of a human from snout to tail. The wings only the size of a small bat. Next the organs, flesh, and muscles formed over the bones, and finally white silver-like scales popped out of the body. Dracon let out small clicks as a form of speaking, indicating that he was ready.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Jan 8, 2009 1:44:37 GMT -5
"The lizard kid... Hmmm... So Emily, the new guy, and Terrian are going through without disguise?" Natalie made a mental note to keep Emily from pushing the mental shield far enough in to cause damage.
"Me too. I'm going in straight up, head on," Garth said staunchly, shivering slightly.
"How are you going to shield your mind, huh?" Nat looked him over for a moment before looking to the fallen member of the enemy's number.
"That guy there... Terrian, right?" Garth got a noncommittal nod from Brogue. "Anyways, he said that telepaths had been bugging him all night. If that's the case, they must have sent some to help look for me here. And since none of them turned up with us, that means that they couldn't pick up on my mind."
"I don't know what's going on with me, but I think it's what protected me from them. Who knows? If I'm lucky, maybe they'll explain what's going on."
"Or they'll put your head on a pike. It sounded like they were getting ready to GUT you, Garth. And they certainly didn't hold back on the violence, either."
"That's what I'm wondering about... If I turn myself in, will this whole thing blow over for all of you? I'm not afraid of violence, but somebody's going to get killed if this keeps going like it has..."
"So die in a battle, or become some kind of food for a slumbering demon or something... Not much choice, huh? Stay back here with Valon. He's the strongest here, and can keep you safe the best."
"Uhhh..." Garth rubbed at his lip for a moment. "To be honest with you, I really need to talk with them. They're probably the only people that know what's happening to me right now. The doctors couldn't figure it out, and I sure as heck can't, either..."
"So, you're risking your life for a chance to cure whatever's making you sick? Gee, maybe you aren't quite the wimp I had pegged you as. Still a wimp, but not as bad as I thought." Natalie knelt down and scooped up the man who had stabbed her earlier, lifting him with one hand.
"Emily? You get Sleepy, here. The boys are all too beat up to handle him, so it's all up to you." Natalie spun, and used the momentum to toss the unconscious figure. Emily caught him, surprised, but still with minimal effort on her part.
"What?"
"They'll want their home boy back. Be sure to smack his head on the doorframe on the way in for me."
OOC: Just taking care of the last of the setup. Our final setup looks to be: Terrian, Emily, Prime, and Garth going through directly, Nat, Sly, and Dracon in tow (Probably Sly on Garth, Nat on Emily, and Dracon on either Prime or Terrian.) Valon, Ender, and Brogue hang back (sorry guys, but I don't think they'd take too kindly to Valon showing among the kids after his display earlier... Don't worry. I'll make it up to you with awesome later on in the plot.)
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Post by Beelzebibble on Jan 8, 2009 8:46:12 GMT -5
OOC: awww yehhhhhh
Anyway, who do you want to see post next? I can take us through the portal if you want, after consulting with you by PM about what the... office looks like.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Jan 14, 2009 2:00:19 GMT -5
"There's no need," said the duplicate Brogue to Emily, who was half-carrying, half-dragging the unconscious tuxedo boy's form. "I can take him."
"What are you talking about?" asked Terrian. "You're staying here."
"Maybe I shouldn't." Brogue's face was set; he had obviously been preparing this for the last few minutes. "Maybe you should instead."
"What?"
"Look at your leg! You don't think they're going to notice? What are you going to tell them, you fell down some stairs? Listen, I should go, this whole thing is my fault. Let me take care of it—"
"No," said Terrian. "I fired the gun. The responsibility's mine."
"But your leg..."
"If they ask about the wound, I'll tell the truth." In answer to Brogue's uncomprehending stare, Terrian added, "Which is that it's none of their business."
Before the duplicate could protest, Terrian went on. "I really appreciate what you're saying. But I don't want you feeling like you have to atone for anything. You got confused, that's all. Can I blame you?"
Brogue opened his mouth, closed it, and then looked away. "Not really."
Terrian smiled and laid a hand on the duplicate's shoulder. "So you're good. Stay here and pay attention. I'll tell you when I need you."
Brogue didn't look back at Terrian, but he smiled a little even so. "You're the boss."
Terrian moved away from his duplicate and looked the room over. Some crowd. There was Valon Lorsha, puffing himself up and looking important. He'd been keeping an eye on Terrian since they'd teleported; the blowhard clearly thought he needed to be an Intimidating Presence. Standing near him was the hotshot biker with the pretentious long name who expected everyone to call him "Prime". Nice pair, the two of them.
On the floor was Ender. Ender... Terrian had thought of him as a friend after that airship cruise, but Ender had done about the most half-hearted job imaginable of vouching for him. Terrian supposed he was foolish to think that the psionic was liable to give a damn what happened to him... and the girl, Emily. Gushing over Ender's headache and not even looking at the guy with a sword gash clear through his leg.
Flitting around almost imperceptibly in the air was the minuscule form of the dragon man. Not the brains of this outfit, Terrian guessed. Not after that comment about taking vengeance on the tuxedo boys or sticking around with thumbs up asses. Did this creature have the least idea of the complexities of the situation, or was he just hoping no one would notice?
And Natalie... He didn't even want to think about Natalie.
To be fair, though, Sly was a good man. And even though Terrian would have been in his hotel in Whelkshore by now if not for Garth, the kid seemed okay all the same. And, of course, his duplicate. Don't forget tuxedo boy number one, he thought, and he wasn't disturbed by that thought, because honestly what did Terrian have against tuxedo boy number one?
But these few seconds' musings were holding up the action. Terrian took one of Sly's metallic pellets out of Natalie's hand and plugged it into his ear. Then he looked at Sly. "Is it working?"
Sly stared at Terrian a moment, evidently trying to probe his mind, then nodded.
"Good," said Terrian. He sent a thought to Brogue. But you can still hear me, right?
Yeah, I can. Do you get me?
Yeah.
Brogue frowned. How is that?
Well, we're not reading each others' minds, are we? It's more like sending email, what we do. Fine. I was hoping this would work out. "In that case," Terrian spoke aloud, "I'll be off."
He thought about offering the tiny dragon a place on his collar or somewhere, then thought better of it; he'd rather not play host to someone whose name he didn't even know.
Instead, he simply walked over to the card, which still lay innocently on the floor. Feeling more than a little stupid, he stepped forward with his left foot onto the card.
His foot touched the card. And kept going. And hit solid wood.
He was standing somewhere else.
He was on a vast wooden deck on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a forest that appeared more tropical than northern. The sky outside the warehouse had been black, but here it was a pale dusty color. Terrian thought about this. Apparently the card had taken him a great distance. A bird squawked with the sunrise.
Behind him was a wide one-story building with windows that didn't seem to allow light out from inside. Tuxedo boy headquarters. Terrian considered knocking, but decided it would be better to wait until Emily, Prime and Garth had come through the card.
So he walked over instead to the railing and admired the view.
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Post by hermes on Jan 14, 2009 4:08:14 GMT -5
Prime held his open hand into the air, and caught Dracon. Not hard, but enough to give him the idea of who he'd be travelling on. He yoinked one of Sly's pellets, with a nod to Nat, and stuffed it in his ear. "I'm still not really sure what's going on here, but I have an affinity for dragons, and I don't mind having my mind shielded."
He pulled out his gun, checked the ammunition, then put it away. "I don't suppose any of you guys left here could call a tow truck and get my bike fixed? No?" He shrugged, then starting walking down the steps.
"See you on the other side," he said nervously, though he kept his voice as level as he could. He tossed away his helmet, gave Valon and Nat a nod, and disappeared.
"Hey Terrian," Prime said, leaning on the rail beside him. "Evidently we are far away. The air is nice, at least, but I hate to think about the mosquitoes that much live here..." He cringed.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Jan 21, 2009 2:59:48 GMT -5
"Wow..." Garth murmured. seemingly stepping into existence behind Prime and Terrian. He fiddled with the left lapel of his shirt, as if trying to secure it, and stopped suddenly. "Okay, okay." He took his hands away from his collar, and stepped toward where the other two were standing. Tipping his head back, Garth closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply. Pausing for a moment, he flung his arms out to the sides, almost as if embracing the air. "This is absolutely incredible... Where are we anyways?"
He returned to a more normal posture, leaning on the railing alongside the other two. A large crimson and cobalt butterfly, easily the size of a grown man's hand, fluttered daintily past the group. "Sly-" Garth cut himself off quickly, and sheepishly looked back to the others. "My gut tells me that we're somewhere out around Hawaii, though no clue on latitude. Something about the time of day or whatever."
"Now how am I supposed to whack his head on the doorway if the door isn't open?" Emily said loudly, appearing suddenly with the tuxedo-clad captive slung over her shoulders.
"Oh, wow!" Emily immediately shrugged off the man as if he were nothing, and darted over to the edge. Showing much less restraint than the others, she jumped up, landing on top of the railing, and then dropped to a sitting position. "Maybe we should all go on vacation here after this. It'd be fun!" Emily leaned out over the drop, holding herself steady with her hands on the railing. "You said Hawaii, right? I think I'd look okay in a grass skirt. Not sure about the coconut bra thing..."
"So, you're all here now, huh? Took ya long enough. Almost like you had to work out a cover story or something."
Garth and Emily snapped around, the boy's movement more one of fright, while Emily seemed to simply evaluate the new presence without losing her smile. A large steel desk with an ornate granite top rested about twenty feet away from the group, the unconscious man now sprawled on top of it. There was a massive, overstuffed chair, upholstered in a green faux leather, pulled up directly behind it.
Arrayed around the desk were seven men, one seated, one to either side, and the remaining four respectfully kneeling behind them, a pair to the left, and to the right. The seated man wore an elegantly crafted black tuxedo, his bow tie fixed perfectly and his salt-and-pepper hair combed back immaculately. The man to his left was much less formally attired, clad in hiking gear with his blue-black hair sloppily put back into a short ponytail. He watched the group with only one grey eye, the other one clamped shut. Two asymmetrical tattoos marred his wrists, white band on one, black band on the other.
The other man was wearing a grey, leathery-looking bodysuit, with large, orange-yellow barbs and hooks of a bony material jutting out at each joint. His head was cleanly shaved, only intensifying his already harsh-looking features. Beside him were two thuggish-looking individuals, one wearing what appeared to be loose leather armor over his immense frame, while the other, more compact one was wearing normal street attire. This however, was sharply contrasted by the bits and spurs of metal protruding randomly from his lower arms and hands, each one oozing blood like it was a fresh wound.
The other two kneeling men were much more common-looking, although both were wearing the formal attire of the earlier assailants. The one to the outside had shaggy red hair, hanging over his face down to his shiningly white smile. The other one was quite familiar, the man that had interrogated Brogue in the car. He, though maintaining the position, managed a smile and nod to Terrian.
"Don't be alarmed. These are just my business partners here, interested in the hottest prospect we've seen in the past five years. As you can see, you've caught the eye of some very important people, Mr. Brogue." The seated man leaned forward, watching the group with a bemused grin. He snapped his fingers, and the door to the building opened up behind him. A large, fluffy couch, easily big enough to accommodate the four arrivals, cantered out, bumping the door shut behind it. It trotted around the desk, and then deposited itself directly across from the seven men.
"All of you, make yourselves comfortable. Though I know that Terrian here seems to be the highlight of this whole process, each and every one of you also has very important aspects that I'd like to discuss." The man gave a knowing grin in the general direction of Prime and Garth, as if dangling bait over their heads.
OOC: Eh, not great, but it brings us into the final act.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Jan 21, 2009 17:22:43 GMT -5
Terrian did his best not to limp over to the couch, hoping no one would notice that he was favoring his left leg over his right. He was also hoping no one would notice that Sly's metal earpiece had slightly inhibited his ability to hear. Lucky for him that the seated man was speaking at a nice leisurely pace.
He stood uncertainly in front of the couch for a second, debating where to take a seat, and somewhat relucantly settled on the middle. As he did so, he sent a thought to his duplicate back in the warehouse: Tell Ender and Valon to be ready for more than just tuxedo boys when they get over here. Some of these guys look nasty.
What kind of nasty are we talking about? was the response.
The spiky kind, Terrian thought, as he looked around the gathering. After another moment, he put together a nice smile and some nice words.
"I know this is really kind of an awkward way to start things off," he said, "but I feel like I have to tell you what's going on with your unconscious friend there. He attacked those three—" (Terrian gestured behind him toward Garth, Emily and Prime) "—but they knocked him out and took him hostage. When we came through the card, my guy in the biker outfit wanted to pitch your man over the cliff, but I told him, 'No, Prime.' I said, 'Prime, we are just going to give these men their associate back and no funny business.' As a gesture of our good will, and to prove that none of us want to stand as enemies to you."
"Although," Terrian added with a look back to Garth, "I think my friend Garth here has been feeling a little estranged by your organization. Maybe we can clear his situation up first, before we talk about the job offer? Can we agree on an outcome that doesn't involve his eyeballs in a bottle on the mantel?"
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Post by hermes on Jan 30, 2009 17:26:18 GMT -5
"I don't care about Garth," Prime said, scowling. His gun was in his hand, but he kept it carefully pointed away from anyone else present. He was paranoid, not suicidal. He strode forward slowly, and took a seat next to Terrian.
"Just tell me about this job opportunity, and why you need us for it. The opportunity for a little extra money is always nice, but I don't do suicide missions, and I do not become experimental data," he said firmly, as he'd known for a while now that there was something odd about him, but he couldn't quite pin down what it was.
He unzipped the front of his riding jacket, the full body leather suit and the heat were starting to get to him. Nevertheless, he acted as nonchalant as he could, making them think his sweat was only due to the heat.
"One more thing," he said, leaning forwards. "Whoever set up that field already owes me 80,000 dollars, cash, right now. That bike was expensive as hell, and it took me a lot of time and effort to assemble it properly and get it running smoothly." He gestured slightly with the tip of his gun, pointed at the businesslike figure they'd encountered before. "And my insurance policy has a clause that specifically exempts people like you." His voice was slightly edged, but he leaned back in his seat despite that, rolling his shoulders.
Just so Dracon knew he meant him to. He didn't have to snap his bike in half. Prime nearly heaved a sigh, but held it in. "What do you suppose we do to settle the account?" Prime asked levelly.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Feb 2, 2009 0:24:34 GMT -5
The men listened attentively to Prime and Terrian's complaints and statements, nodding slightly after every few words. The man at the desk simply smiled subtly, and after Prime spoke, raised a hand to silence the group.
"Eighty thousand dollars? Even assuming that we're within the realm of legality, and you wouldn't simply fall under not travelling at a prudent speed for the condition, eighty thousand dollars is peanuts." The man put his palms on his desk, and shifted forward. "Eighty thousand dollars buys you something human. We don't deal with that. Here..." He rapped his knuckles on the granite. "We are above human.
"What my group is... We're a group of hunters, if you will. Adventurers. Like many of you, but different. Focused. Orderly. We do our jobs swiftly and cleanly. There are no suicide missions for us, or experimentation. We leave that sort of behavior to others." The man looked directly at Emily, and nodded. "Anyway, as long as one succeeds at what missions we give them, there is no threat to their lives. And I never go throwing my subordinates into a suicidal situation. That's only wasting investments.
"If you're interested, then stay here after I've dealt with Terrian and the boy. They're the reason for this occasion, after all." The man raised his hand again, clearly ending his attention toward Prime. "As for you, Garth, mayhaps I should let one of the others explain it. There is much talking to do, and I've always had a sensitive throat. Nopcsa?"
"Gladly." The man from earlier stood up, brushing the dust from his knees. He paced around the desk deliberately, and with one hand, pushed the unconscious man to the side. He jumped up, and then dropped to sitting atop the stone with his legs dangling. Swinging his heels, he leaned forward and braced his chin with his palms.
"Your mind is a total jumble tonight. A bit of a pity, since it always saves time when I don't have to sift through a puzzle to carry out a conversation, but I'll work with you."
"What's going on with me?"
"It happens to every boy and girl eventually-" The man paused, and smirked slightly. "Oh, you mean with that mark on your stomach? Quite the interesting story, really."
"Go on."
"Anyway, it appears that you happened upon what our type refers to as Zodiac amulets. They're little discs that were strewn about the world years and years ago. Quite nifty little things. They'd bond to a user's soul, and grant them supernatural powers effortlessly."
"Why would it turn up in my house, then?"
"If you hadn't been nervously staring at the gun in your buddy's hand, you would have heard me. Strewn. Scattered helter-skelter. Fifty-two pickup. You know?"
"Aren't there only twelve signs in the zodiac?" Emily queried, a baffled look on her face.
"Pop culture reference, Emeril. Besides, there's thirteen." Nopcsa began talking again, cutting off a response from Prime. "Twelve normally acknowledged ones, and Ophiuchus, the Serpent, an outlier to the normal procedure." Nopcsa cocked his head. "Really, that thirteenth one was quite the ***** to deal with. We didn't even know if there was a thirteenth Zodiac amulet until we happened upon you, Garth."
"And that all brings us around to the whole situation tonight." Garth's expression twisted into a firm scowl. "So, now how are you going to explain how acting like you were going to cut my heart out was going to help me?"
"Surgery is always tricky. Surgery on a malicious magical item? Doubly so."
"Surgery? Malicious?" Garth seemed shaken for a moment before regaining his composure. "I thought that you said they were supposed to be nifty."
"In the right hands, yes. But you weren't right. The amulets, though not conscious, attempt to seek out the most compatible souls. And since yours wasn't finding anything more compatible where it was locked away, it merged with you."
"That's why it vanished!"
"Duh. And as you've seen... Being the most compatible soul in a group of one doesn't even mean you're compatible. Your body has been reacting poorly to it. To make a long story short, one of our contacts in the medical industry saw what had happened to you, and contacted us, knowing that any mundane operation would only make things worse."
"Did you really need to kidnap me and all of that?"
"Yes, actually, since most hospitals frown upon arcane rituals in the middle of the building. So we took you away, tied you down so that you wouldn't struggle and complicate things, and set about trying to suppress the amulet. Our big mistake was assuming that since you weren't compatible, you couldn't tap into its power. You woke up, and using an aspect of its might, destroyed the building and killed two of our men."
"I killed two people?"
"It happens. Besides, doesn't matter to me. One smelled like feet, and the other never paid his share at restaurants... I digress. If everything had gone well, we would have removed the amulet from your abdomen, and upon your recovery, would have given you a choice. Since saving you necessitated giving you knowledge of us, we'd either let you join us, or erase your memories of us and let you go back to your mundane life."
"And if I didn't want either of those?"
"You'd have done one anyway." He stopped talking, and looked back to the man in charge.
"Good enough. So, now you all understand what brings us here tonight. One big misunderstanding about a little lifesaving operation, and one of our men being an imbecile and getting greedy..." The man disdainfully glared at the unconscious one, almost as if looking past him and into the stone below. "Does that sate your thirst for knowledge, or are there any other questions?"
"What about this Ophiuchus thing? KILL ME?"
"Not right away. Over time, yes. But that doesn't matter right now. I'll talk with these three first. After that, then we'll negotiate your surgery. But until then..."
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Post by Beelzebibble on Feb 2, 2009 8:55:14 GMT -5
Terrian had been ready to slap Prime for waving a gun around when they were trying to talk civilized, but then the salt-and-pepper man had turned attention back to Garth. All throughout this conversation, Terrian held his gaze politely yet firmly, and said nothing. Internally, on the other hand, the gears of his brain were churning madly.
Hey. We have a problem.
* * *
Should we come over? his duplicate responded at once.
Brogue wouldn't have minded, frankly; his companions in the rear guard weren't exactly ideal. He'd tried to make some small talk with them, just to lighten the mood, but they hadn't given him much to work with. Valon, to whom it appeared all business was serious business, preferred setting his jaw in a grave grimace. And Ender just told Brogue to keep quiet and give his head a rest. Sheesh. All things considered, Brogue had been expecting the psion he'd met on the airship to be somewhat less... delicate.
But his hopes that things were about to get moving were let down when the original Terrian replied, No no, not yet. It's just... Things are getting complicated.
Oh damn, and here I thought all this stuff was simple.
Yeah, ha ha, you're a funny one. Look, this whole Garth thing isn't as one-sided as we thought. If we're supposed to believe them, then there's, like, a Zodiac diskette bonded to Garth's soul.
Beg pardon?
Yeah, the thirteenth one. Orpheus the Serpent, or something, I don't know, I'm missing some of the details with this metal ball stuck in my ear. The point is, it's killing him. And the tuxedo boys were trying to track him down so they could remove it.
Okay.
Something like that.
So what's the problem?
Brogue cast his eyes nonchalantly around the warehouse, hoping that to Ender and Valon he seemed to be looking at nothing, while he listened attentively for Terrian's next thought.
I don't know who the bad guys are anymore.
* * *
Terrian heard a disbelieving Seriously? from his duplicate, but he couldn't answer immediately; the salt-and-pepper man was wrapping up the discussion with Garth and once again turning his attention to the entire group.
His mind raced, trying to process all this information. On one hand, he didn't have any reason to trust these people, and he didn't imagine Natalie would much like the thought of just leaving Garth with them to have his chest magically cut open. On the other hand, if they were telling the truth, then Natalie's group might be signing Garth's death sentence if they didn't let the tuxedo boys go through with the surgery.
Besides, the salt-and-pepper man had said that they wanted the thirteenth zodiac thing. Terrian knew from experience that the easiest lie to spot was the most altruistic one. This man had admitted a personal stake in the affair – something tangible he was trying to gain from this situation, beyond the arbitrary satisfaction of saving a life. Terrian found it much easier to believe him because of this.
Even so...
Christ, he hated decisions.
Well, he said nothing at the moment. He was half-hoping Prime would take some of the heat off him by blurting something out.
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Post by hermes on Feb 2, 2009 13:43:15 GMT -5
Prime shook his head. He could practically feel the gears turning in everyone's minds, as they took the situation in and tried to decide who exactly to classify as the bad guy. He was having the same thoughts himself, but he had a rather simpler solution.
"Just let Garth decide what to do, all right? We already decided we were going to back him up, none of us signed on to make his decision for him," Prime whispered to Terrian quietly, then leaned back in his seat.
"You seem to have forgotten how the real world works," Prime said to the trio. "I'll spare you the long-winded lecture, as you don't seem to give a damn either way." He looked at each of them in turn; his eyes fell on a skeletal hand around one of their necks, and he barely suppressed a shiver.
"I will say, however, that those of us who have a connection with the material plane, have a vested interest in what you call peanuts. It keeps me out of this place called 'prison'. And an 80,000 dollar loss is a pretty clear-cut kick in the balls. So, peanuts or not, how about you answer my question in a more straightforward manner?" he asked, looking straight at the man who seemed to be the leader. "Am I getting paid or not?" he bit off sharply, scowling.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Feb 9, 2009 3:58:15 GMT -5
"Payment-" The man began again, clearly slowing his words. "Payment is a subjective term. What we offer here is typically not the payment that you'd find in the mundane world. We offer you a job. In exchange, we handle upkeep. We train and groom people for working with us, provide them with necessary equipment...
"That is not to say that money doesn't ever become involved. No, we pay enough to live comfortably, and to carry out one's quests for us comfortably whenever possible. But I don't think money is the important thing for one to gain from this. Money? As I said, it's a human trifle. We pay in power- Leverage if you will. Influence over things on a greater scale than is available to any but a few. When you have what we have-" The man reached into his breast pocket, and with a moment's delay, produced something shimmering in his grasp. With a backhanded toss, he sent the fistful of golden coins clattering to the deck.
"Wealth is simply the drivel that fuels the rodents in their wheels."
If you're expecting to be paid for your big boy's bike, you'll need to actually cooperate with us. If you're thinkin' you're going to make money off of stumbling into something beyond your ken, and not doing anything except for pissing and moaning, then it's best you hire a big fancy lawyer and take up your case with the folk in Whelkshore. We have much more important things to negotiate with several people present... A voice spoke in Prime's mind, seemingly familiar but not a match to either of the men who had been talking.
"Now, since the girl is clearly bright enough to have followed what we said to the two other gentlemen, we'll let her mull over it while we deal with the main event of the evening." The man pushed against the desk, and his chair slid backwards noiselessly. He began to rise to a stand, and vanished into thin air. He reappeared, now standing, posture alert and straight, before Terrian.
"I believe that I have met somebody worthy of an introduction. Terrian Brogue, Auguste Tylor. Leader of the Fascere Order, its subdivisions, and other branches beyond that," He extended his hand, meeting Terrian's gaze with his own. "Now, Mister Brogue, have you ever considered a career in mysticism? If one has ever had a calling, truly, it is the arcane artistry for you."
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Post by Beelzebibble on Feb 9, 2009 11:38:19 GMT -5
Terrian felt an uncomfortable prickle on the back of his neck as he shook Auguste Tylor's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," he said, "but I don't... mysticism? I don't know. I've seen people who use magic..."
He thought about a young woman twirling a ball of light around her finger outside a cafe in Olivine; an elderly man making a playing card appear in his hand on board an airship. And, for that matter, a young man raising his hand to the clouds, to be answered with a quiet rumble.
"They just don't seem like me. I don't think that's where my power comes from. If I really had a calling for the arcane arts, wouldn't I be throwing around fireballs and thunderbolts by now?"
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Post by hermes on Feb 11, 2009 1:37:56 GMT -5
Prime massaged his temples, frowning. "Apparently I am talking to an idiot. I have asked, twice, the same question. Neither time have I been answered. I have not expressed a preference for cash, I have simply stated my wish to be compensated for my loss. Power, items, influence, I don't particularly care what you pay me with, as long as it has appreciable value," he said, staring quite angrily at the man. "However, though these are the things you tempt us with for the future, you have utterly neglected to answer the simple question I now put to you for the third goddamn time."
He stood up, holstered his weapon, and looked around casually. "Am I getting fucking compensated, or do I have to shoot one of your goddamn colleagues to get my fucking point across? I want compensation!" He scowled at the gold coins on the table. "Preferably something that doesn't make people think I'd stolen it from a history museum. Or a bank," he said flatly.
He was, of course, being intentionally unreasonable. He trusted these men about as far as he could spit into a hurricane. He had no doubt that they had very creative ideas on what to do with everyone present, and while he was here to back Terrian up, he had no interest in letting things go any further than they had to. He was pretty sure they'd gotten all the information they could, not it was time to split. Preferably with something loud and explosive as a distraction. They could take care of Garth's issue later, preferably hiring someone who wouldn't cut him to pieces as a last resort to get it out.
Prime caught Terrian's eye, trying to let him know what he was up to. He shot a sharp glance at Emily too, whose nature seemed to lend itself to a drifting mind, and not paying any bloody attention. His hand was near his gun, casual, unthreatening. He had the air of a man who knew he was going to get what he wanted, even in an impossible situation.
He waited, tensely, but resolutely. It was going to happen eventually, so they might as well be the ones controlling the situation, instead of the very, very dangerous suits.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Mar 9, 2009 23:53:17 GMT -5
"There is a reason that it is called the arcane arts, Mr. Brogue. Some of it can come from natural aptitude, but one's training is vastly more important when it comes to-" Auguste's eyes focused into a glare.
"You seem never to have heard of manners, I fear. Should I escort you away from here, or will you behave? The promise of future compensation should be enough for somebody to be sated with until I've finished a brief conversation with another..." The mage tapped his foot twice, and the man with the metal protruding from his hands rose from his knees.
"If you don't want to talk with us, nonviolently, we'll need to become somewhat less hospitable..." The man gestured, the underling moving briskly around the desk and to his side.
"Now, if you'd just let me finish my discussion with Terrian-" Auguste's cordial voice had become much harsher in tone, shifting from his earlier patronizing tone towards Prime to a new, icy menace.
"Anyways, Mr. Brogue, even without training in the mystic arts, I'm certain that you could be a tremendous asset to us... As far as I can tell, you replicate whatever is on you when you create a duplicate. I'm sure that a man of your intelligence would not fail to see how his talents might be helpful in a group that specializes in procuring enchanted weaponry and armor, no?" Auguste's tone switched like the flipping of a television channel. The moment he wasn't threatening to have Prime tossed over the edge, his voice had regained its friendly tone, and a smile crossed his lips.
"And thus you understand the main reason we've called you here," Nopcsa declared with a smirk, watching Terrian's reaction. "Quite simply, we're privy to the most valuable equipment and items that man can come by. And you're Terrian Brogue, Xerox incarnate. El-e-men-ta-ry math."
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Post by Beelzebibble on Mar 10, 2009 1:00:51 GMT -5
When Prime looked at Terrian, he returned the man's glance with furrowed eyebrows. It didn't escape Terrian's notice that those spikiest among Auguste Tylor's associates had taken to rustling menacingly. Since Natalie, Sly and the dragon man hadn't demorphed yet, they must have wanted Terrian to keep the politicking up a while longer. Yet Prime and his gun were taking the conversation swiftly in the direction of bloodshed.
Terrian opened his mouth to apologize for Prime's words, only to be cut off by an acid rebuke from Auguste. Kinder, however, was the tone with which Auguste turned his attention once again to Terrian. And Terrian smiled gently as Auguste and Nopcsa outlined the reason for their interest in him, which naturally hinged on... ohh. Shit.
"Oh, of course," he said brightly.
They'd gotten him wrong. They thought he replicated whatever was on his person when he duplicated himself. They didn't know – but how could they? – the limitation. Only items that covered a wide enough surface area on his body were duplicated. His shirt, his underwear, his pants, his socks... The jacket and the shoes, even, it was hard to explain. Perhaps because they covered so much of the surface area of his shirt and socks—
But the wristwatch! And the wallet and the keys and the cell phone! None of these things were duplicated. And Terrian had tried – many times. How many hours had he spent, walking around in his apartment clutching a five-dollar bill and leaving behind duplicate after duplicate, bare-wristed and empty-pocketed and with open palms that held nothing at all...? He'd never managed it! He'd managed it once.
Once. Yes. An isolated incident. Several years ago. January second, in the morning. He'd been writing a grocery list in the kitchen. Some moron down the block had let off a batch of fireworks, left over from New Year's, no doubt. The booming crack had startled him into leaping back... and there, standing in his original position, had been a duplicate staring at the ballpoint pen in his hand.
The duplicate ballpoint pen was in some place of honor in his apartment. On the mantel maybe. The original, he thought, was in the briefcase the duplicate Brogue was holding back in the warehouse.
This was the one and only time Terrian had successfully duplicated an item held in his hands. He'd tried to accomplish it many times since then. No luck. It had been an accident, really. A fluke. Not to be repeated.
And here the tuxedo boys were expecting him to outfit them with a legion's worth of equipment. He sincerely hoped Natalie was going to put him out of his misery in another moment or two. "Although, I mean, duplicating items isn't easy. With clothes it comes naturally, but with something I'm holding... I have yet to perfect that process. Still, I imagine this job will give me plenty of practice."
He paused, felt this conclusion was a little weak, considered his options, and decided to risk it. "In case your boys are running low on socks, though, I can promise you up front I've got them covered."
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Post by hermes on Mar 10, 2009 2:24:03 GMT -5
Prime met Auguste's menacing glare with a slight smile. He'd prefer threats to patronization any day. He was a huge fan of the direct method, that being: don't argue with those who're sure that they are correct. Bang their head on the table until they knew they were incorrect.
Unfortunately, the following conversation nearly made him hang his head. Even he could tell by Terrian's stance that he couldn't reliably replicate anything that wasn't already firmly attached to him. Prime quietly thought that what the man incorporated into his very soul's image, the mental picture he held of himself, was what he replicated. And only that. But hell, he wasn't quite sure how that was to work.
He gave a respectful nod to the bodyguard at the suit's side, recognizing that he was only doing his job, but his eyes were still cold. He had been... tempered by some of his previous experiences. And his cybernetic arm was an advantage none of them knew about. It was almost 99% accurate at distances of 40 meters or more, and this was well inside his range.
They'd only be able to evade if they could move faster than his more-than-human arm.
He had the feeling they could. He didn't like the idea.
He kept his gun at his side, unwilling to fully commit himself until the others did as well. He was here for support after all. But he also felt no need to get on friendly terms with those who were, essentially, the enemy. Unless they made him a good offer that didn't involve anyone else present dying. He could always use the extra capital.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Mar 13, 2009 20:02:50 GMT -5
"That was... As we feared, no, Tylor?" Nopcsa said with a shrug.
"Not quite. I had been expecting more vehemence in him asserting his independence, not something like this-" Auguste's smile took a slightly bitter twist. "But it's not the end of the world. We have magical shirts, coats, shoes... Even pants and socks, though those are understandably more scarce. If you're willing to do us a turn, just duplicate some of those for us... We'll be sure to pay you about ten percent market value. On each item."
"Considering that a simple shirt with..." Nopcsa turned an eye towards Prime and the guard, "A bulletproof enchantment... is typically sold for a few hundred dollars, at least, it could be rather lucrative for you. A few hours of work and you could be financially set for months."
"Of course, we have a bone to pick about something," Auguste's tone became grave. "It really should be handled by Abatis and Nachoset... It's more of an issue for them, than it is for us."
"Of course," the asymmetrical one spoke, his closed eye snapping open to reveal a crimson cornea. "We were fine with you four. Two of you had appointments, and two of you were possible recruits. But as for the SEVEN of you, well, there's three in there that we're going to need to get rid of."
"What seven?" Emily asked brightly, then paused. She blushed slightly.
"What is it?" The man asked pointedly.
"Are you calling me fat?" Emily responded indignantly, starting to rise from her seat.
"No," the other man spoke, the one in spined armor. He flickered, reappearing on the other side of the desk. With another step, his was directly in front of Emily.
"We're just saying that you're crawling with parasites."
The man reached down, and plucked a small dark spot from amongst Emily's hair. Grinning triumphantly, he raised it before his face.
"You killed fifteen of my colleagues, and my leader. The Yalda Bahut lost his life to you, greedy wench. And to add insult to the brutality, you stripped him of his armor, and the Sceard that was rightfully mine to inherit!" His voice had quickly risen from a quiet threat to a manic scream. "And now, you die, helpless! Think in this last moment how you brought this upon yourself, Helogale Ulima!" The man crushed the tick between his fingers in a spurt of ichor. Emily simply stared in shocked disbelief.
"Did you know that you were harboring this wretch?" Nachoset threw the remains to the floor.
"Oh, sure I did. But I couldn't find him, so it got really annoying during that whole interview thing. You know, he kept biting me, and it itched worse and worse, and it's sooo impolite to scratch and-"
"Do you know WHO it WAS? If our scryers are to be believed, you were in league with that girl!"
"No, no, I'd think I know if I was friends with a tick. But I never would be friends with a tick. It just wouldn't work out. I'd go 'Hey, wanna do each other's hair?', and he'd be all like 'Nah, I'm just gonna hang here like a forty-year-old living in my parents' basement while running a Transformers fan site, sucking blood off of the more active and useful people' and I'd be like-"
"THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE TICK. IT'S ABOUT SYLVIA-NATALIE-ULIMA, HELOGALE. FIRST CLASS."
"Oh, it wasn't about the tick? So, you mean it's about that midge flying over your shoulder right now?" Emily's clueless smile became a smirk. Nachoset had only the time to gape before a sneaker met the side of his head and sent him sprawling into a yelping Garth's lap.
"Oy... I honestly have to say. For a cabal of evil mages, or whatever the hell you all are, you hold the most boring meetings on earth." Natalie flickered again, her unfurled sword appearing in her right hand.
"What should we do, Auguste?" Nopcsa asked, clearly already knowing the answer.
"You and I? We watch. The other ones were invited here for the battle we promised. They can take care of the five that want to fight."
The others instantly sprung into action. The man closest to Prime rushed at him, raising an forearm to block a shot at his throat. The bullet ricocheted off, skimming the man's cheek and tearing a bloody cut across it. He closed the rest of the distance in a moment, and threw a punch directly at the biker's eyes.
Abatis vaulted over the desk, and seized Nachoset by the scruff of the neck before hurling him aside. He pointed a finger at Garth's neck, and an intense gust of wind blew. A speck went spiralling out from under his shirt collar, and dropping to the floor behind the couch. Nachoset, moving with the momentum, brought up his arms, and flickered yellow for a split second. Nat dove for the floor, letting a sphere of flame shoot over her with a demonic roar. It kept traveling until well clear of the platform, and then exploded in a cloud of smog and concealed flashes of light.
"Hey!" Emily protested, and pointed at Natalie's opponent. There was a spray of sparks, and a loud ringing as her spike bounced away. The redheaded fellow, clad in the dressy uniform of the Fascere Order, held a kickboxing stance... Roughly the height of a man above the floor. His shoes, now visible, were short silvery boots, both with the soles glowing a light blue.
"Not bad at all!" He lashed out with a kick that was barely blocked by Emily, the force of the blow spinning the seat a good quarter-turn.
The man in leather armor slowly rose, and paced around the desk at a leisurely speed. He came up to where Prime and the man who had been beside him were brawling, and then simply sat down a short distance away.
"Let me know when you shake his passenger free. They told me he'd be the best one for me to face." Without a fight immediately occupying his attention, the man began humming something quietly to himself.
"Terrian? Garth?" Nopcsa asked, turning around to face them. "The battlefield is a place for spies and bodyguards, not old men, children, the unarmed-" Nopcsa indicated himself clearly, and then pointed to Terrian. "Or the wounded. We should get indoors before things get too rough."
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Post by hermes on Mar 13, 2009 21:50:39 GMT -5
Prime took the punch to the face - truth to be told, he didn't have much choice in the matter. The man was insanely fast and terribly deadly in close quarters. Prime was just glad he had a good spatial perception, and an understanding with the law of gravity. That being, it always works. As the heavy punch landed on his face, and Prime fell backwards, he quickly and viciously raised his knee.
It caught his attacker in the chin, sending him flying in a trajectory roughly equal to Prime's. Prime unloaded his gun into the man's stomach as he sailed overhead. Though he had no clue how effective that would be, if at all.
That clue about bulletproof shirts was a little unsettling.
His weapon came quickly about as Prime rolled, taking a few shots at the man sitting beside him. He wasn't fond of those arrogant enough to think they couldn't get their hands dirty. And those who remained calm often controlled the chaos.
He brought his gun back onto his previous attacker, reloading as it sailed through the air, and started unloading it on him again, just to be incredibly and remarkably sure. He made a mental note to shoot the suits behind him. They'd said his tick wasn't welcome, that didn't give them license to attack him, it gave them license to attack the tick. Or, in this case, the pygmy dragon. With whom Prime was currently highly irritated, because he could've eaten his hooded attacker before Prime had gotten his shiny new black eye.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Mar 14, 2009 1:46:25 GMT -5
The sight of Natalie was instant proof to Terrian that his usefulness as a negotiator had ended. Her first action, kicking the spiky-armored man toward the couch, was instant proof to Terrian that it was the right time to get off the couch. He sprang up, around, and, following his instinct, ducked behind the couch. He promptly sent a single thought -- It's time – to his duplicate.
In another couple of seconds came the response, Okay, bring us over.
"To me!" Terrian muttered. And, standing above him, appeared the duplicate Brogue, carrying the briefcase and held on each shoulder by Ender and Valon. The latter two swiftly moved forward into the fight, but Brogue paused to survey the scene, bent down beside Terrian, and opened the briefcase.
"You'll be wanting the gun, then, I take it," he said.
"I don't know," said Terrian. "Maybe? No. No, you know what, leave it."
Brogue frowned, then leaned forward and shifted into thought. Are we going to take down the tuxedo boys or not?
I don't want to.
Then we're betraying Natalie. Okay. I'm cool with that.
"No," said Terrian aloud. "I don't think I want to do that either."
"Terrian? Garth?" the one called Nopcsa asked, and then invited them indoors to stay out of the fight. Brogue looked back at Terrian.
Indoors?
Not yet.
Brogue rolled his eyes. Look, I'll tell you what, pick a damn side and I'll support you on it. I'm just tired of you going all wishy-washy like this! You can't please everyone, Terrian. So don't even try.
Terrian cringed as shots rang out. He peered over the back of the couch. Prime was delivering the ammunition he'd been trying so casually to promise. Terrian leaned back against the couch, taking care not to put too much weight on his wounded leg, and smiled at Brogue.
"I won't," he said.
Then he got up and stayed seated simultaneously. Another duplicate – this one, again, paying no heed to his injury – had emerged. He rounded the couch and ran into the skirmish. Another duplicate did the same. Terrian created another duplicate. And another. A dozen duplicates, maybe sixteen, charged into the fray. But they weren't attacking. Instead they flanked the fighters in pairs and tried to seize their arms and shoulders, to hold them back.
Perhaps understandably, no one went after Nachoset or the barbed man, unwilling to get too close in nothing sturdier than a dress suit. Otherwise, however, they tried to contain all of the combatants. Two duplicates managed a swift tackle on the redheaded man and pinned him to the floor, while another two tried to be nice about restraining Emily. A particularly brave group even attempted to close with Natalie and Prime, neither of whom looked likely to give up the fight in a hurry. A chorus of identical voices, shouting instructions to one another, added itself to the previously existing sounds of the combat.
Terrian held out a hand weakly to the only undamaged duplicate Brogue, who helped him to his feet. Then he nodded to Nopcsa. Indoors would be best. He felt... faint.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Mar 23, 2009 23:56:35 GMT -5
OOC: I think Terrian has a case of "aichurophobia- fear of being touched by pointed objects. " BIC: Nopcsa nodded, and cleared his throat loudly. "So, who here is done fighting?" "I guess that us two are. Not that I really wanted to in the first place," the redhead muttered, now airborne once more, a pair of Brogues dangling from his arms with their feet not quite touching the floor. Emily had not been seized, but instead seemed to be delivering recipe cards that she had produced from somewhere to the two Brogues assigned to her. "I should help Natalie, really-" Emily started, but was cut off. "No, this is all mine!" Natalie threw herself into the air, vaulting over a jet of flame and corkscrewing to the side. As she landed, she launched herself forward, blade extended. She shot past the six noncombatants, almost skewering Nachoset had he not disappeared. Her blade lanced into the couch, and her opponent reappeared in midair, punting the warrior in the jaw. She rolled back past the half dozen, catching herself on her feet and digging her blade into the wood of the deck to slow herself to a stop. "I won't be restrained by the likes of you," Abatis growled through clenched teeth, straining against the two that held him. The one that held his black-tattooed arm suddenly collapsed, eyes drifting shut as he tumbled to the floor. The other Brogue stepped back reflexively, only for Abatis to spin backwards and strike him with his now-glowing hand. He fell as his twin had. "A sleep charm. Which is much better than what you'll get, Andalite." Abatis stated, and jumped over the couch. There Sly was, lying on his side and trying to shift back into his natural body for battle. He was still mostly fly, but now grown to the size of a dog with stalk eyes and hooves jutting from his body. <You know?> Sly's forming eyes took a harsh focus on the man. "I also know that there's a five-second drop beneath us, and that you won't be able to return to a flying form in that amount of time," Abatis said with a sneer, and extended his black-marked hand. An orange light glowed from the back of his left hand, coalescing into a flawless round gem. One that Sly recognized almost instantly. "I've been following all of you for a very long time, Sly," Abatis murmured, and placed the back of his hand against the lumber. The orange jewel sparked with an unearthly light; a circle of wood was cleanly eaten away. Abatis stood up once more, and stepped back, over Sly. The Andalite lashed at him with his tail, falling just short. Abatis sneered, and raised the bejeweled hand before his face. "Expand," he murmured, and the small hole quickly snapped outward, stopping right before reaching Abatis. Sly, still a mess of weak, half-conceived limbs, plunged through the gap and plummeted toward the earth, hundreds of feet below. With a grin, Abatis leapt after him. -------- "You're not half bad for a human-" The man grunted to Prime, rolling to his feet with a bestial alacrity. He feinted to the side, three bullets tearing past him with inches to spare, and one tearing through his right bicep. He simply gritted his teeth, and lowered his gaze, focusing on the weapon. At that moment, the Terrians burst in from either side and closed in on Prime. The barbed man grinned, and continued his charge. He drew back his hand and adjusted his course as if to aim a rushing punch at the Terrian on Prime's gun arm. As the duplicate drew back, the man refocused his path on Prime. He threw a knee to the other Terrian's gut, and wrapped his outstretched arm around Prime's neck, tackling him to the floor. His left hand shot to where Dracon was concealed, and tore the small dragon clear of Prime. He flung it to the side, to his companion, before attempting to uppercut Prime in the stomach with the sharp barbs on his left knuckles. The other man, his massive hand stretched over bloody wounds in his side, let out a noise similar to a laugh as the reptile landed on the deck beside him. He sprung to his feet, and whipped his head about, freeing an amulet on a length of leather chord from beneath his armor. "So, you're my foe? Well, since they told me that you'd be worthy, I'll believe them..." The man's voice grew rougher, almost inhuman. His skin seemed to take on a grey-green tint as thorns and ridges began to burst out through his skin. The man's fingers stretched out to unnatural lengths, warping and hardening into long talons. "The name is Uca Argentum and I'm proof of what a truly synchronized Zodiac Amulet is capable of, lizard." He brought the smaller, more nimble of his talons up to his chest, to what appeared to be a metal disc with two inwards facing nines. "Cancer. The crab, and-" The man's eyes shifted into soulless black fields and a series of pointed digits erupted from his cheeks, meeting around his mouth and covering it. They flared outward again with his next words. "The death of you." -------- "It seems that your attempts at peace aren't exactly panning out, Mister Brogue," Auguste stated quietly from the hallway as Nopcsa held the door open for them. The sunlight revealed a hallway that seemingly stretched much farther than simply building onto the mountainside would allow, clearly having to have been dug into the earth. The walls were of some unusual glossy stone, with various paintings and works of art suspended from them. Many doors branched off to the sides, each one crafted of some rare-looking ornate wood. "Hey, they can't all be winners, right?" Nopcsa moved as if to punch Terrian in the arm, glanced at the beleaguered traveller, and reconsidered. "I can't believe that everybody out there is so bloodthirsty-" Garth whispered, his eyes wide. He winced as Natalie roundhoused one of the Brogues that approached her into the desk, and then uppercut him as he fell. "I mean, the people in Whelkshore are supposed to be heroes, right? And your guys just wanted to help me... So why is it that they all are trying to kill each other now?" "Not all of us," the redheaded man said, dropping from above. Emily was on his back, piggyback style, hands in the air. "That was fun!" Emily said with a childish laugh, and then slipped free of the man's back. She stepped around him and into the hallway where Terrian was resting. Ignoring the others, she turned back to watch Natalie's battle. OOC: Not sure what else to do with our negotiators/noncombatants, since the Broguesplosion was unexpected, but hey, we'll figure something else out. Right now, it's kinda Dracon/Prime's big scene in one part of the deck, Natalie's in another, and Valon/Ender should be doing something involving the skydiving Sly and Abatis, since that sets up a big revelation for the BB/DL plot arc.
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Post by Beelzebibble on Mar 28, 2009 15:29:43 GMT -5
The original duplicate Brogue joined Emily's side at the doorway to observe the fight, but Terrian himself preferred to look over the strange hallway – and, in another moment, to turn to Garth.
"The people in Whelkshore are supposed to be heroes?" he repeated. "Where did you hear that?"
When Garth met him only with a nonplussed look, Terrian added, "I mean, the first time I met a Whelkshore power, she was a pretty cool lady, but..." He laid a finger on his cheek uncomfortably. "Well, she and I were part of a group who were, basically, infiltrating a magical institute for nothing but personal gain. We caused quite a bit of damage in the process, and we attacked scientists and researchers who'd done nothing wrong and had no vendetta against us."
He chanced a glance around at the three present tuxedo boys after saying this. Nopcsa's lips were pulled down in a Hey, what can you do? smirk, but Terrian couldn't tell from Auguste Tylor's expression whether the older man approved or disapproved of this confession. The unknown redheaded man was watching the battle with Emily and Brogue and so appeared not to be listening.
"I met two of the guys out there on board an airship, and they're both fine too, but I wouldn't really have called them 'heroes'. You know? They do whatever they need to do. That's the whole vibe I get from Whelkshorers." Terrian added his last remark in a murmur to Garth, Nopcsa and Auguste: "Especially Natalie. That girl over there pretty much worships her—" (he jerked a thumb toward Emily) "—but trust me, Garth, Natalie's the one the rest of the Whelkshorers are answering to right now and she would not have been a contender for the Superfriends."
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Post by AngelicTragedy on Mar 28, 2009 21:39:27 GMT -5
Valon was standing just outside of the battle area and took in all the actions for a few moments. Abatis' presence was troubling, but he was the only one he was worried about, and the appearance of the orb was even more troubling. Valon watched Sly falling through the opening in the deck in shock and then witnessed Abatis leap after him. Valon didn't give himself time to think, he dove through the opening at an amazing speed after Sly. Valon easily caught up to his friend after a part of a second and tapped him lightly, engulfing his body in an orange light causing the still-transforming being to float in midair. Now that his best friend wasn't in danger of becoming a smear on the ground below, Valon turned himself on Abatis. A split second later Valon had Abatis held by the throat, his windpipe pressed to the point of being slightly blocked but not life-threatening.
“You filthy little vermin. You think that you can just kill my best friend and have me stand by and allow it? I thought you would know better Abatis. Ha, now I can see that you have the eye as I had heard, but I will never let you bring that monster back to the world of the living as long as I still draw breath,” Valon almost hissed as he gripped Abatis a bit tighter.
A wide smile formed on Valon's face and a rich smell filled the air much like that of freshly falling rain. A rippling effect appeared above Valon's skin and began to take the image of purple flames but as viewed through smoke. The amethyst flame focused around his hands and head, but appeared all over his frame.
“Think yourself lucky. I've never actually shown anyone my true aura, but you get to be the first. Impressive isn't it? Ha, enough of these formalities. Goodbye.” And with that Valon booted Abatis in the chest, sending him rocketing forward at an incredible speed.
OOC- Valon finally gets to do something!!
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Post by Hamuu on Mar 30, 2009 23:41:26 GMT -5
Sly hung in the air as he finished demorphing – his grotesque, mid-morph form finally replaced by his majestic and deadly Andalite form. Valon could handle himself, he didn’t need any help against Abatis. With a mighty leap Sly managed to clear the distance between where he floated and where the floor began.
All around him were fighters and Brogues. One specific and extremely brave Brogue attempted to tackle Sly from behind. The Andalite's tail disappeared before reappearing wrapped around the Brogue's middle, holding him aloft in the air. His seven-fingered hand deftly spun the dial on his watch causing the two to teleport through the door and behind the group wishing to sit out combat.
<I believe you lost this Terrian.> Sly held the unhappy duplicate in the air. Then in a private thought-speak message sent only to the original Terrian: <If you ever expect to be anything more than what you are, you’ll have to refrain from trying to satisfy everyone. Remaining neutral in a conflict will burn more bridges than choosing a side.>
OOC – Post is crap
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Post by hermes on Apr 19, 2009 22:51:40 GMT -5
Prime bit back a scream as he was partially eviscerated. His stomach was still in one piece, but only barely. He lost all logical thought as he grabbed the man by the throat with insane strength and speed. The man coughed as his grip slowly tightened.
"Die!" Prime screamed with hellish rage, violently stuffing his gun into the man's face and emptying the clip at point-blank range. The gun jarred against his hand and shoulder until the clip was empty, though Prime couldn't feel his arm to know whether he was holding onto the bastard anymore.
He threw the Terrian off him, stumbling around dazedly. Bastard had better hope Prime didn't see him, or there would be a reckoning. He whipped the pistol into the side of a Terrian's head, just to see what would happen, but it didn't seem to have any effect. Dazed, he looked around for his prior mark, wanting to make his last word a certain future. However, with the blood loss, the opposite was looking more likely.
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Post by Tout-Perd on Apr 29, 2009 2:48:20 GMT -5
"Pretty good, pretty good..." a voice rasped from behind Prime, clearly choking on the words. The man, somehow having shifted his location in the split seconds since being shot, clutched an empty flask in one hand, and a mending wound in his cheek in the other.
"Not this time!" The man lunged in, batting Prime's gun aside with enough force to fold the joint in the prosthetic arm back at the elbow. He seized the dying man by his good arm, leaning into his face.
"Do you know where the steel in my arms come from, human?" He jerked his head aside, barely avoiding a headbutt. "Some of my comrades found a peculiar sword in the course of their expeditions. Since the tradition in the Fascere Order is to implant artifacts into members to make it more difficult to steal them, this katana was a bit problematic..." He raised his leg, blocking a knee aimed for his gut. "We melted it down, and implanted the pieces into my hands... Lovely, right?" His left hand shot to Prime's throat, clearly strangling him in retaliation for the damage to his own throat.
"You know the cool thing that this enchanted sword did, by the way?" The man let go of Prime's arm, and wrenched him about by his choking hold on his neck. Looking him in the eyes, he drew back a crackling fist, and sneered. "It ripped out people's souls."
The man threw Prime back, lunging forward into a perfect punch. It caught Prime in the ribs, his weight suddenly going limp. The man drew back, smiling as his opponent fell to the floor heavily.
"You were dead before you felt my touch." -------- "Sly! I- I thought that guy killed you!" Garth's attention was almost immediately drawn away from the raging battle. He glanced back for a moment. "I thought maybe I should've gone after him with my powers, get some kind of revenge, but then I thought, this whole thing was started by you trying to protect me from all the people trying to hurt me. And if I failed to kill him, I know that he'd kill me instead-" Garth paused, trying to think of the right words.
"That's one death so far. So much for the optimistic end of the betting pool, Tylor," Nopcsa said amiably, leaning just inside the doorway of the structure.
"Of course, Mister Brogue ruined Nachoset's wager on them all dying, so I'm feeling good about my middle-ground pick. If two more bite it, I take the pot." The redhead grinned, leaning out past the mindreader.
"One of them is facing Abatis, and Nachoset swore he'd kill that shapeshifter girl. That makes your odds look pretty good." Nopcsa turned to Terrian. "Of course, since you'll be working for us, I'll have to let you in on standard practices here. For example, Fridays are casual day. No capes, crowns, or pointy hats allowed then. And Wednesday is potion-sampling-"
"Nopcsa, enough with the chitchat. I have to say something." Auguste looked to the beleaguered young man. "Of course I knew about that heist. The Parmigianino Institute has a contract with us in R&D. They reported to us, and other contract holders, when their weaponry room was broken into..."
"And watching the scrying was how we ended up learning of you. So don't think you're surprising anybody here with that dark revelation," Nopcsa glanced at his wrist. "If this doesn't wrap up in another ten minutes, I'm going back to my room. This runs a little late for me." -------- Abatis simply grinned in response to Valon's pronouncement of judgment, a glow forming about his white-banded hand. As he went flying backwards with enough speed to splatter him against the rock face of the cliff, he clasped and opened his hand. His backwards flight stopped suddenly, a web of light embracing him from all sides. He dusted himself off, winced slightly, and then stepped down.
"It's good to see that you recognize this here. If you didn't, I would be severely disappointed in your reputation. But it seems that you live up to what I've heard. The memory of a dragon, indeed. No putting something by you-" Abatis raised his black-tattooed arm, the skeletal hand rising with it. It drifted into place, securing itself against the back of his hand. There was a flash of silver, and its fading revealed a gigantic platinum cleaver, clutched in the mage's grasp.
"And I'm sure that you remember how the whole Basilisk thing works," Abatis muttered, bringing down the weapon with a relieved breath. It slammed into the cliffside, shearing through it without any resistance. He turned to Valon with a sly grin, and stepped away from the cleaver, letting it dissolve as rubble tumbled down where he had struck.
"So, I took the liberty of planning ahead for this engagement accordingly." Abatis jerked his thumb over his shoulder, toward the cavern revealed by his strike. Slumped in the darkness was a pale, shapeless human form. Long locks of greasy hair piled around its atrophied body, and empty eyes gazed out of the darkness uncomprehendingly.
"It's a crude clone, really, but pretty much the best I could do on three days notice." Silver wires extended from the skeletal hand, taking up the orange gem from where it had fallen. The wires jerked, and sent the gem streaking through the air.
"You know what comes next-" Abatis stepped aside, raising his left hand. A platinum shield appeared, stretching until it obscured him entirely from view. Moments later, a torrent of blue-white flame crashed into the cliff face, exploding back outwards with the force of a bomb.
"Not that much good... You see-" The shield lowered again, crumbling into powder. Abatis stood there, mostly unharmed except for a few burns on his arm nearest the blast. "This cliff face, and its contents, are warded so as to prevent anybody not authorized by the Fascere Order to do harm to it. Thus, the choice in location for-"
"I'm ready, Master."
"Oh, delightful. Well, you catch my drift, Ruler of the Dragon Races." Abatis turned, and acted as if to walk away.
"I agreed to this servitude, just so that I could have the pleasure of making you and your friends suffer once more..." Orange eyes, each the size of grapefruit, blazed with hellfire from the depths of the cavern. A pair of dripping fangs, each yellowed ivory except for the venomous green lines running down their sides worked up and down with every word.
"You were the first to fight me, after my apotheosis, were you not?" The figure stepped forth, his bald head catching the spotty light of the forest. Muscular arms, ending in hands with talons the length of steak knives, tensed and moved experimentally. "You'll be the first I get to butcher, now that I've returned..." The figure lurched into the light, clearly hunched over from the confines of the cavern. He stretched his arms out to either side, stretching its pitch black form. A pair of gigantic grey wings snapped out to either side, feathers shooting into the air all about it, and slowly drifting earthwards.
"So, how about it, Valon?" Basilisk hissed, darting forwards with speed beyond the realm of human vision. It lunged for his throat with outstretched claws, jaws slavering. -------- "Helogale Ulima! Stand and fight!" Nachoset roared, a fist of crimson fire building around his own for a moment before being flung at the shapeshifter.
"Like hell I will!" Natalie flickered, the fireball roaring through her. She rushed forward, running her fingers along the back of her sword to lock it into a single blade. Extending her right hand, she thrust for Nachoset's throat. Sparks flew as he snagged her weapon between the bony projections on his suit. "Tell you what-" Natalie ducked a backhanded swing as Nachoset used his leverage to snap the blade of her sword. She lunged in again, clipping the side of the armored man with the broken point of the weapon.
"I have no need for whatever you're about to say, wretch." Nachoset vanished, reappearing behind Natalie, and throwing a spined elbow at her back. She jerked forward, avoiding the brunt of the blow, and then tumbled away, regaining some distance from her opponent.
"I'll quit with the dodging and all that if you stop with the f***ing porcupine flamethrower suit bulls***." Natalie's arm snapped forward, flinging the shattered remains of her sword at her foe. He bent back, the weapon streaking over his head. Natalie flickered, and reappeared in midair above the man. She seized her blade, and dropped at him.
Nachoset threw himself to the side, tumbling out of the way as Natalie impaled the deck and sliced a wound across his back. He rolled to his feet, and met her with a glare. "Since there was no replacing the Sceard that you stole from us, we had to compensate somehow in the newest armor we made... Once I take the Sceard back, I'll be the strongest one ever to hold the rank of Yalda Bahut." Nachoset's armor began to glow with flames building around it.
"Wonderful. I'd say that this is the sound of me not caring, but it's more the sound of me wanting you to die really badly."
OOC: Not as big of a post as I'd thought it would be... *Sigh*
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