If you think yourself the hero, then beware the villains.
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Alchemist
Courtesan
Guild:
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Post by Scoria on Feb 10, 2014 7:04:50 GMT
OOC: Open to the characters of Bellona, Den, Muffin. Open to those in the gang (Hiro, Myrr, Benet, and those in that gang). You are definitely welcome to join. Otherwise, contact me if you want in. The thread takes place Day 2, post Catastrophe. "Turtle!"
"I'm not a turtle. I'm a crocodile."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The sound of wood creaking was evident in the somewhat silent air, the creaking getting louder and louder until it was finally replaced with a cracking, shattering sound. The very recognizable sound of a door being broken open and slammed into the frame, the already unhinged door swinging and falling to the ground. The blonde adult that stumbled across the steps as she scrambled to get out of the building had her eyes locked on the darkness inside the building, as if something vile and dangerous were about to burst out. On her back was one of the Alraune familiars, gripping onto her. The creature was clothed in rags tied together into a makeshift shirt, a unique accessory for the familiar that kept its grip on the blonde. Anyone who looked carefully could easily tell that the blonde simply wasn't moving as quickly as she should be able to, even for the weakest of humans. "No escape."The voice came from inside the warehouse, a gleaming crimson set of orbs burning straight into the blonde with a gaze that was nothing short of hellfire. Black hair slicked back and a nasty, wicked smile on his face, Scoria carefully descended, landing on the street with a soft pat of his shoes. The coal-haired villain glanced backwards briefly, Allure active as he shot his glare into the darkness of the building and called into nothingness. "Run." The order was succinct and directed not just to the two figures cloaked in shadow, but also to the somewhat stunned passersby or two, prompting quite a few of the People of the Land to get lost. They looked somewhat relieved, perhaps because Scoria's burning gaze wasn't directed at them, but the ebony-haired druid didn't even wait for the kid inside the building to leave before he continued his walk towards blondie. She retreated, but found herself paralyzed momentarily, the spores that Alraune had been placing on her the entire time catching her off guard. "Turtle!" Scoria almost laughed as the forest sprite let go and backed up, leaving the druid to grab the blonde-haired woman's collar and lift her up. "Wh-what are you doing!? I'll kill you!""I am an Adventurer. You are one of the People of the Land. Even if you kill me somehow, I'll come back and crush your windpipe." Scoria's orbs burned like they were made of brimstone mixed with fire, his fist on the woman's collar lifting her up onto her toes. It took naught but a moment for him to let go of her collar, prompting her to drop back down to the ground and have a moment of relief, and then immediately catch her throat in his grip, raising her back up again. She struggled against his grip, both hands against his, but he continued to lift like the idiomatic noose around her neck. Not only did he squeeze, he lifted, cutting off her air supply and blood flow as he forced her to the tips of her toes... and then off of them. He was killing this girl in broad daylight. Strangely enough, none of the local People of the Land interfered. It was one of the back alleys of London, so the casual Adventurer probably wouldn't come around either. How strange. How convenient. |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
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Post by Elkeid on Feb 11, 2014 16:36:34 GMT
"Ugh." It was a faint sound, one that was simple in nature but could be deciphered into many things, if one cared to pay attention. It was the grunt of a drunk just waking up - still inebriated. Clearly they had either drunk too much or not slept long enough. Either way, they were sure to be drunk off of their ass. Such was Elkeid, who had wandered into the back streets of London after being tossed out of a bar. That was how she had spent her first night in this world - in a bar, desperately pouring beer after stale beer down her throat, to the point where she could no longer taste the bitterness and her Detox passive was forced to give up.
After the twentieth beer or so (which should have killed her at that point), Elkeid was too drunk to neep function, so when she swung a bottle at another bloke's head, the Royal Guard had an easier time carting her out. Her movements were too sluggish and uncoordinated to even fight back, so she had just grumbled to herself over the remains of the bottle she clasped in her hand. Had her aim been better, the jagged ends of the bottle would have embedded themselves smoothly into the jugular of those punk ass kids who tried robbing helping her.
"Gorram punk asch kids," the woman muttered in her corner. She had apparently collapsed on top of some woman she did not recognize, and had an empty flask in her hand. After briefly reconsidering tossing the flask at the head of the nearest person, Elk pocketed it so that she could pat down the other woman, and found a small bottle of stale liquor. The other woman must have thought she was clever, hiding the bottle in her bosom. Did she think that no one would check there?
Elkeid ripped off the top of the bottle and shoved the opening into her mouth, not giving a damn if people mistook her for a careless drunk or tramp. The alcohol would make the dull throbbing that was threatening to shatter her mind, and of course keep that lovely buzz going. 'Ah, sweet nectar of the gods!' She would have kept guzzling it, too, if it wasn't for the kid that tripped over her drinking buddy and fell into the dirt. "...Wasth wair ye're goin', kid. Thas mah pi'ow ye're trackin' dir' all ova." It was impossible for her not to slur.
What was even difficult was forcing herself into a standing position, just so she could kick this kid's ass. "Fuh!"
The world was tilting.
The world was neeping tilting.
Elkeid's stomach lurched as the world shifted dramatically to the right, threatening to send her head cracking against the cement. "Vell fuh yew too," she said, curling both middle fingers to the palms of her hands and gesturing wildly at her surroundings. Her posture was reminiscent of the bizarre poses from a popular manga and anime series; she was leaning back, with both feet planted firmly in the ground, and now doing something that 90's pop fans would call "Voguing."
The kid, realizing he may be in actual danger if the woman sobered up, quickly pushed himself to his feet and scurried off, a dark stain spreading across the crotch of his pants. Elk, seeing this, sneered as she assumed that this was her doing. "Yeah, ya betta run." She flipped off the ground as she called out to him, and staggered closer to the wall for stabilization.
She had no idea where she was going or what she was going to do once she got there, but it was definitely time that she relocated. She could have been the one that kid stepped on. 'Need more...drink. And cigarette…' It felt like forever ago since her last puff of tobacco. Where the hell did the People of the Land keep lung killers? Even a cigar would do her some good right now.
There was an obnoxious scuffling noise from the direction Elk was headed in, and she would have turned around, if it wasn't for the fact that that would require some complicated mathematics and a rocket scientist to figure out. It sounded like a fight or something, which she would just avoid. Did it look like she was wearing an officer's uniform and gun? No; she was just a drunk that wanted to continue drinking, but fate clearly had something different in mind. Some punk ass kid with black hair was holding a blonde in the air by her throat. You didn't need a rocket scientist to tell that she was slowly turning blue from choking.
Without thinking - like many drunks - Elk stumbled away from the wall, a slight scowl on her face as she pointed at the air above the punk's shoulder. "OI! KID! Da hell do ya t'ink ye're doin'?! Pu' 'er down, or ah'll put you…" Elkeid stopped to think long and hard about the next word she needed. " - down!" Yeah, that punk was probably pissing his pants right now. Elk even threw the flask she kept at his head - if his head was a full foot down from where he was standing, and he was under two feet tall. Notes:ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ)
Word Count:881
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Post by Deleted on Feb 11, 2014 17:36:30 GMT
I'm a member of the Midnight Crew~ If he had kept a diary, he could have titled today "Day 2: The Day Everything Sucked." Day 1 had been a shocker, of course, and filled with so much oddity. People in a game? Game in the world? Menus? Telepathic calling? NPCs that acted a bit... off? Top it all off with getting lost in the woods and attacked by goblins... no, that was wrong. Goblins were attacked by him and someone... else. Yeah. The details were clear in his head but brushed aside for the moment as he made his way around the district, looking and searching.
Looking and searching for what, exactly, was currently lost on him. Blackcoat just had the sense of restlessness within him that caused him to lose sleep that night, and so he was therefore quite pallor and tired, but he kept moving in order to try and find what was necessary to him. He briefly considered trying to contact someone, and as he passed as few People of the Land, he popped open his menu and scrolled through the minuscule list of contacts to find someone to call. He thumbed over them, briefly stopping at some before deciding that it wasn't worth it. Who knew if they needed him, or actually desired contact from him? His mind briefly told him that the worst they could do was not answer but he knew better. The worst they could do would be to affirm to him that he was unnecessary.
As he closed up his menu, he was treated with some people moving in a fashion he hadn't scene before. People of the Land were actually backing away and leaving. Blackcoat lightly propped his staff out for a moment to hold up an elderly-looking woman - never once touching her, just getting her to halt. "Miss, what's going on?" She pointed over and mentioned something about a fight, and that was enough for him.
Blackcoat moved over, his starter staff - shoddy in every way - clunking on the ground as he tried to move into the area of the disturbance, only to come across a scene that, quite frankly, confused him. There she was, the woman from before - Elkeid the Monk. But... then there was also this dark-haired fellow, holding what appeared to be a regular persons. "H-hey! What's going on here?" He tried to put up some kind of brave front as he stepped forward, but that just wasn't his style.
Out of the three, he was the most out of style. I'm a night owl and a wise bird too~ N O T E S: ... |
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Wolf Hair
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Merchant
Guild:
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Post by Jade on Feb 13, 2014 14:39:16 GMT
I am a fighter and I
I ain't gonna stop
There is no turning back
I've had enough
tags people
words 514
notes | Unlike her first day, Jade presently took things very slow - the complete opposite of her aggressive charge through the monster-infested fields before. She had learned her lesson well, when she was attacked by a boar that was much stronger than she was. It convinced her that she couldn't get away by simply running a straight path through this world. If the monsters grew stronger the farther she went, she was sure to get herself killed in less than a day with her current level. She had no choice but to work at getting stronger, before even thinking of venturing away from the city.
Trapped in this world, alone and with nothing to do but fight, made Jade feel like giving up. Someone stronger would probably take care of it, and be the one to save them all and get them out of this nightmare. The blond haired woman didn't want to fight. Didn't want to constantly put her life at risk. As much as she wanted to go home, she wanted to stay as far away from danger as she could even more.
And so she bided her time, hanging around the city, visiting the market, the stores and any other place that could be visited by an Adventurer. She didn't want to gain any attention from the strangers who were around, so she stuck to the shadows and corners, going through narrow alleyways to hide from large crowds.
Unfortunately for Jade, the one she traversed brought more trouble than she wanted. She took a step forward, went around the corner, and caught sight of three people standing apart from each other. One of them was holding a blond haired girl off her feet - a hand to her throat. She paled and immediately pulled back to pressed herself against the wall. Her heart began to beat rapidly and she had to cover her mouth with her hands to prevent anyone from hearing her heavy breathing.
What? What? What the hell is going on?! She wanted to run away, but doing so might attract their attention and have them chase her throughout town. She might end up in the same situation as the other woman. For now, it was better to simply stay put and wait for them to leave or to kill each other. I just hope they don't spot me and decide to kill me too...
Hopefully, none of those in the alley noticed her. She tried to keep quiet and listened attentively to what was happening. Thanks to her chosen race, her senses were better than a regular human being's, and she was able to hear and understand what they were saying from a distance. One hand went down to her small dagger, sheathed and strapped to the belt around her waist. She gripped the hilt, comforted by the fact that she had something to defend herself with. If things went south, she wanted to make sure she could get to her weapon quickly, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do.
God why is this happening to me?
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electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
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If you think yourself the hero, then beware the villains.
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Alchemist
Courtesan
Guild:
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Post by Scoria on Feb 14, 2014 10:11:40 GMT
[[ Sorry for the wait]] Scoria didn't bother looking aside, his burning gaze locked onto the girl he had pulled up off the ground. His lips had curled into a grin at some point, he knew, and he seemed to be taking a thrill out of watching this "Person of the Land" slowly turn blue. It wasn't as though Scoria was particularly strong, but the People of the Land around him weren't interfering. Even though they could probably take him on if they all ganged up, they simply didn't. It wasn't just his use of the Allure skill either, was something going on? The slur in Elkeid's words was apparent, enough so that Scoria didn't need to pay her even a single glance to know she either had some sort of speech impediment or was incredibly drunk. Or maybe she was just partially dumb. Of course, he meant that in the literal sense. Political correctness could be damned, he was dealing with something here. The call of another individual in a somewhat stuttering tone told Scoria he was attracting a bit more attention than was necessary. Maybe People of the Land had decided to show up in this back corner of the London, but it was more likely that they were adventurers. Using Allure couldn't hurt though. "Stand aside." The voice was just as singed as the eyes of the person it belonged to, but the command there was resolute. The stuttering nobody was probably some haphazard idiot who thought himself a hero, while the drunk wasn't even of any concern. Or wouldn't be if she hadn't lobbed a neeping bottle at him. That bitch. His eyes left the girl whose windpipe he was crushing for naught but a moment, just enough to pivot his leg and slide it out to get in the way of the bottle. He wasn't 2 feet tall and it was an easy dodge, but Alraune was two feet tall and her head just happened to be in the way. It wasn't as though Scoria gave a flying neep about her being hit by a bottle, but that was his familiar and he'd be damned if he let anyone think it was okay to push him around. The bottle smashed into his leg, opening up a rather large gash, and Alraune let out a small shriek. It wasn't because of the shards of glass that just barely missed her, but because blood was now pouring from Scoria's arm, a serrated knife sinking itself deep into his arm before being pulled out. The coal-haired man had no choice but to drop the blonde, with her hooked knife. Flesh ripped itself out of his arm as she pulled the knife out, the knife clearly meant to be hard to remove with spines that sunk straight into flesh. It was much like a fishhook worked, except this was no fishhook. It was a knife and it had more or less ripped straight through Scoria's right arm, sending blood dripping into the streets. For a moment, the druid's eyes flashed the same crimson that fell from his veins. Alraune shrieked and ran. She simply took off, somehow unfazed by her druid choking a woman half to death, but scared out of her wits by the idea of the druid's arm being ripped into and his leg slashed. So she ran, tripping over herself as she ran, turning the corner and tripping right in front of Jade. It wasn't as though the forest sprite noticed the assassin. In fact, if Jade didn't intervene or bring any attention onto herself, it was entirely likely that Alraune would continue to run or lie there choking out tears. She just began bawling as she repeatedly glanced back between Scoria and the road in front of her, repeatedly sobbing out words like 'turtle'. If Scoria could hear her, he'd probably have kicked her ass. Instead, he was a bit more focused on the girl that had stabbed him than his coward of a familiar. It wasn't as though he blamed the forest sprite, even if she was a total pansy. No, he leaned on his injured leg instead and delivered a nasty spinning kick into the blonde's side, slamming his kicking leg down and shoving his good arm out. A knife. She had pulled a neeping knife on him. He didn't even care that Blackcoat and Elkeid were watching. He didn't care that they would probably try to stop him. With one arm dropped to his side, his left arm shot straight into the girl's knife hand, clenching with a fierce grip and twisting her arm until she was on her knees again, knife dropped. Kicking the weapon aside, he kneed the girl in the ribs and watched her scramble to back away from him. Her health was still easily in the range that kept her away from dying. After all, most of the damage she took was from being choked. Scoria wasn't a monk. He was a healer. That didn't mean that he couldn't intimidate someone into a corner though. With hair splayed about and a bleeding lip, the blonde bit her lip and stared up at him defiantly. Like she wasn't the one in the wrong here. Scoria knew better. "M-Monster."With a voice as blood-soaked as his eyes, Scoria bit out his final word, Allure toggling on. "Run." She took his advice and did. The only real question was what Elkeid and Blackcoat were going to do now. He somehow expected them to intervene and be goody two-shoes about this whole thing, but he was frankly out of neeps. They couldn't cage him and he knew damn well that PvP fighting wasn't allowed in the city. His eyes slowly curled up from the ground to stare the two interlopers down, his body rising to its full height. It wasn't like he was much taller than the duo, but he certainly knew how to throw a presence around. It probably didn't help that he was a Courtesan and shoving his personality in people's faces to get what he wanted was in the job description. And still, the People of the Land that still lingered didn't do a damn thing. |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
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Post by Elkeid on Feb 15, 2014 14:31:11 GMT
Despite how piss poor her aim was in her inebriated state, Elk managed to nail the kid on the leg (in her mind he happened to just be standing there, not deliberately stepping in the way of the bottle), causing the skin to break and shed a bit of blood. The Monk sneered as the blonde sliced into the guy's arm while he was distracted. Some little...flower thing she was sure was a hallucination (or horribly deformed dwarf or small child) scuttled off, away from the blood and the violence. Elkeid would have tripped up the flower/dwarf/kid thing, had it not been so short and low to the ground. Bugger targets, like its "friend" were ideal.
...Yeah, no. That little flower girl became less important as "Mr. Tough Guy" began manhandling the blonde. She almost bumped into that bumbling Cleric - Blackcoat - on her way to help the girl. The Monk was so startled that she froze in place, turning to regard the man with a mild look of confusion. He looked as if he was actually going to step in and help, though she was pretty sure he was just a healer and housewife? No, housewives were female. Blackcoat would be a...househusband? Was that even a word? But look at him standing up - it was actually kind of cute. Cute enough to almost make her want to grab him by the cheeks and stretch them out. '...What was I doing again?'
Oh, right. "Taking out the trash". She could worry about Blackcoat's cold and empty kitchen later - if the world would stop tilting. Elkeid had to grab the Cleric to keep herself from falling flat on her face, but that didn't stop the sudden wave of nausea. "Ugh." On second thought, fighting when you were falling down drunk probably wasn't a smart thing to do, but she couldn't just let this punk run off without beating some sense into him. He'd just go find someone else to bump off. "Blackcoat, I hath-" Whatever she was about to say next was interrupted by the bile that spewed from her mouth and splattered onto the ground.
When she looked up, the girl was gone and her head felt somewhat clearer. That Detox passive worked much too damn fast. "...An idea." The "idea" was to jump the guy while he was roughing up the now missing blonde. The odds of that going well was slimmer a few minutes ago. She was all out of alcohol and would be sober in no time, if her passive was so dead set on it. "Plan B" clearly consisted of buying enough time to sober up so that she didn't get her ass handed to her by some street punk. ….If that was even a good thing. This game had weird logic, and Elk was relying more on personal experience than what her "skills" said.
After wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, Elk gave the young man supporting her weight a hard shove towards the younger male. "I saw a turtle. It was pretty. Go kick its ass." Was she really expecting the timid Blackcoat to give Scoria the thrashing of his life? Of course not; she wasn't that drunk. Plus, the Royal Guard would flock straight towards them, if they weren't already in the process of doing so.
She did her best to send Blackcoat a brief, telepathic message, with the contents of:
Step 1: Distract
Step 2: Subdue
Step 3: ???
Step 4: Profit!
And:
'Don't worry. I will protect you, my feeble turtle duck."
Followed by the visual of:
A thumbs up and a stern expression that said Don't neep up, bucko.
So, while Blackcoat was doing whatever it is that Blackcoats did best, Elk would step away and observe, waiting for the best moment to intervene, and wondering how long the Cleric could hold his own. Notes:Don't drink, don't smoke~.
Word Count:653
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Post by Deleted on Feb 19, 2014 13:58:49 GMT
DON'T YOU REMEMBER WHY YOU DON'T HAVE A MOTHER? The longer he was here, the worse the situation got. Blackcoat wasn't sure how Elkeid had even gotten here - she looked too out of sorts to even crawl out of a bottle - and he sure as hell didn't know who this bloke attacking the woman was, but he did know that he was sorely out of place. He wasn't going to be able to do much more until - well, shit, that just looked nasty. Blackcoat visibly winced as the glass bottle hit its mark, but moreso for the opening it created for the woman - she took the moment to strike back at her aggressor, leaving Blackcoat in an awkward position.
Those were wounds and he was a healer. He was supposed to heal them - heal both of them - but before he could fully equip his staff - as far as he knew, the only way to use his spells - the girl took a devastating kick, actually causing a visible flinch and grimace from the dark haired bloke. Shit. Blackcoat wasn't used to this level of brutality from people. The base emotions he was used to dealing with involved binge drinking and copious amounts of sex, not pure violent tendencies and blitzkrieg intimidation. He was way out of his element and suddenly regretted getting involved. Curiosity was going to kill this cat.
The girl was told to flee and did, moving to go past him - he wanted to reach out to her, to stop her and offer her healing, but he was promptly bumped into by Elkeid, who he had lost track of in the brutality - Elkeid, who was now regarding him like he was some sort of mural that none of the local white kids understood until she gripped him and looked ready to throw up on him oh please no don't do that don't throw up o-
Welp, his own hand half into the menu interface in his HUD, he was there, fighting off the instant reaction to match vomit with vomit as his feet scooted to the sides to avoid the spatter. Okay, good to know that people could still get, uh.... sick. Bad to know it right now.
He was looking at her, trying to catch wind of what this 'idea' was when she simple decided that actions speak louder than words and forcibly shoved him into the direction of the man covered in blood and capable of kicking his ass six ways to Sunday. The sudden jolt of movement did give him the confirm click on his starter staff, popping the majestic piece of shit into his hands, but this didn't give the image he desired - the man glaring daggers might take that as a challenge, and Blackcoat was completely ignorant to the in-game rules of no city fights.
Brief messaging smashed his brain, bits and pieces of distraction bait and being a duck as he caught his footing, closer to this guy than he wanted to be. From the looks of it, six solid striding steps would put this Scoria guy right in his face and he had all of a few options to deal with it.
1. Use the starting Heal spell he had.
2. Use the starting Heal spell he had, or
3. Use the starting Heal spell he had.
That was it. That was all his class had to offer him during his short time in game; his first little adventure with Elkeid had gained him some experience and more healing spells but nothing capable of... intimidating or damage. He could make this guy glow like a fairy or something. That was always... scary.
Blackcoat was causing his knuckles to go white with how tightly he was holding his staff, pulling it closer to his chest in a defensive posture as he tried to meet this guy's eyes. "I... you're hurt, I mean, you hurt her, but you're also hurt, you shouldn't have done that - you shouldn't have hurt her, I mean, not that you shouldn't have gotten hurt, but you shouldn't have gotten hurt either -" He cut himself off in a gulp as he realized he was rambling as a safety mechanism.
Damn it, Elkeid. You just offered a shark a minnow on a plate. |
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The Necromancer
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Alchemist
Puppeteer
Guild:
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Post by Vayne on Feb 20, 2014 8:02:02 GMT
Death is only the beginning.  "Aww yeah this is getting interesting." Vayne said to himself as he ate some fish and chips. Vayne was sitting cross-legged on the roof of a house, right beside a certain alleyway in London. He was musing at the scenery, while munching chips. One might think that there must not be much scenery to look at in the middle of town, its all old dilapidated buildings, overgrown trees and miles of cobblestone pathways. For someone like Vayne, who was never really an outgoing person in the real world, this might actually be a pretty scene to view for hours on end, but something else has caught his attention. Earlier in the day, Vayne escaped his daily duties from the alchemist shop where he was doing part time in. It was fun, but the manager really worked him to the bone. Vayne had been wandering the city for hours, looking for a quiet place to hang out and just chill. The town however was too crowded, as per usual. Looking for a quiet place was a tedious chore. Places where he could rest were either too crowded or so empty that it was severely boring. He wanted a place to just sit quietly, but also have enough population to just observe. Vayne loved to watch people, go about their business. It was like watching an ant farm, watching them scurry about as if they had a purpose. Silly little things, humans, running around like they know whats happening even though they have no clue. Trying to get a handle on their situation by rushing here and there. Most of the time, they die of course. Vayne has seen a lot of people emerge from the Cathedral, only to come out of that place just a few hours later. Watching these people absurdly try to be so heroic that its funny to watch their wills break down little by little each day. Vayne had just come from buying a big bucket of fish and chips, a jug of iced tea to accompany his thirst to watch the degradation of human society, he pondered on where to watch the giant ant farm that is London from. Then Vayne looked upward, getting a bright idea. "Why not get a bird's eye view?" he said with a grin before he started climbing up an old, rusty fire escape on the side of a random empty building. As he climbed on top, he looked out at the city and breathed in the fresh air, which was blowing in a rather comfortable breeze. "Ahh this is more like it." he said as he sat on a ledge and watched people go on by. Thirty minutes passed and Vayne snorted as he lay on his side. There was no action at all, people were just running around and so far no interesting matters arose. It seems that the people of London, though troubled and distraught because of their situation, were doing a pretty good job of holding all their feelings together. It wasn't like the first day when people were running around moaning and crying and bitching about. There were less and less fights going around, and the city guardians were just roaming around peacefully, not having to behead anyone. Vayne sighed as he was down in a humdrum of boredom. "That's it." Vayne exclaimed as he sat up and looked down on the fake people of London. These people putting up fake smiles and mirth, even though it was obvious that a lot of them want to just cry out and go wild. "Just one little push..." Vayne said, trailing off as he raised his hand, chanting silently words that welled up inside him from somewhere in the back of his mind. His hand glowed a deathly green as a summoning circle appeared in front of him. Suddenly the shadows around him gathered into a clump before him, taking shape. From the gathered shadows, a ghostly phantom took shape. it was large, cloaked in black, and from under the hood green fire lit eyes permeated waiting for an order. "Hey there," Vayne said as he walked toward the summoned creature. Vayne grinned as he leaned over and whispered. "How would you like to help me have a bit of fun?" Vayne continued to whisper, and the phantom listened, its eyes emotionless, but as Vayne finished his proposal, the eyes glowed brighter in a very mischievous glow. "I'll take that as a yes then." Vayne said with a giggle as he set off for a bit of fun. Various accidents happened in the marketplace that day. A fruit cart toppled and fell, resulting in two adventurer shop owners blaming each other, from shoving each other around, both drew weapons and stabbed at each other. Both of course died at the hands of the City Guardians, both getting beheaded at the spot. After that incident, someone fell down a flight of stairs tripping over some mysteriously well placed marbles. The adventurer tumbled down, breaking several of his limbs and accidentaly squashing someone else under a cabinet the person toppled over as he crashed in the descent. A lot of accidents happened that day, seemingly circumstantial in nature, resulting in some deaths and a lot of injuries. In a particular accident, involving a maid, an accountant and a particularly large watermelon resulted in a full scale riot, the burning of a number of food stalls in a glorious blaze, and someone getting having a piece of the said watermelon lodged up his nasal cavity. During all the commotion, Vayne was eating his fish and chip, atop a chapel on the side of the market, laughing his head off as he almost choked on a particularly large piece of fried fish. "Oh my God this is so damn funny!" Vayne exclaimed as he wheezed, clutching his side, laughing. The phantom was hovering by his side, watching all the carnage and it nodded in agreement. "Alright were done for the day." Vayne said, teary eyed and his face flushed from all the laughing. "Thanks for your help man." The Phantom bowed right before Vayne unsummoned it. Vayne continued to watch the flames burn brighter happily, as he munched on his chips. After a few minutes though, Vayne stood up, gave the scene of utter chaos one last look, before he skipped away from the scene of the crime. He felt elated and boisterous. He had never had so much fun in his life. Watching the people degrade into a riotous mob with just a but of pushing was immensely fun. Vayne hopped from roof to roof, getting farther and farther from the small market square he had just "enjoyed". He finally felt that he was far enough and he sat back down on a ledge. He was contemplating on napping for a bit, when he heard some voices from below him. He looked down with mild interest into an alley just in time to see a black haired man, who was bleeding profusely kick a blonde woman. Vayne was shocked, in a good way. Here was an an interesting person, and Vayne's interest piqued as he noticed the other people, apparently they were trying to be heroes and stop the black haired man. Vayne took heed of the the way one of the people, the lady, swayed and slurred. The woman must be brain damaged, or drunk. Then she barfed, while trying to retain her footing by holding on to another guy. "Yep drunk so hard her breath can run a jet engine." Vayne muttered as he intently ate another chip. The man the woman was holding on to, was being nice and offering healing to both the oppressor and victim. The healer's voice was shaking and he was obviously near pissing his own pants, but Vayne had to commend him for not doing so. "Wow, so we have a drunk redneck lady (Elkeid), a guy who thinks hes a 1960's Brooklyn tough guy (Scoria), the usual blonde victim in every slasher movie (Scoria's punching bag), and that super nice stereotypical side character from every chick flick/romantic comedy ever made (Blackcoat)." Vayne said as he sat cross legged, watching them intently. "All we need now is a silly BGM, and we can make some sort of really bad B movie." he said with a chuckle as he continued to watch. As Vayne was about to spout some other comments, he noticed a blonde figure in the back of the group. The figure was rooted to the spot, even though he could feel that she was wishing to run away as fast as she can. It was a familiar person, and as he focused his attention to her, he realized who it was. Vayne gave a warm smile as he looked at her. "Hey now, its Miss Jade." He said as he popped a piece of fish into his mouth. This changes everything. Jade was someone Vayne considered as a friend, and if things get a bit hairy, he would not hesitate at all to come to her aid, even if he had to forego all his values of being a quiet shadow, and just gut everyone here. CODED BY DUCKIE OF GS |
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Wolf Hair
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Merchant
Guild:
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Post by Jade on Feb 21, 2014 10:06:56 GMT
I am a fighter and I
I ain't gonna stop
There is no turning back
I've had enough
tags people
words 418
notes | As she sat there, with her back pressed against the wall, she listened intently to the conversation in the alleyway - or the lack of it. With her sensitive sense of hearing, she could hear their breathing and movements. It didn't help her know what was happening though. She was tempted to peer around the corner to take a peek, but her fear overrode her curiosity.
What were you thinking Jade? Why did you have to go through this way? You could have chosen any other alleyway than this one. Why couldn't you have foreseen this before you went in?
Her mental scolding of herself was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass, followed a sudden scream that pierced the general silence and made her jump right out of her skin. A few seconds later, something ran in a blur and tripped right in front of her, giving her the fright of her life. Before she could slap a hand to her mouth, she had let out a small cry of surprise. Her face turned even paler as she realized her mistake. Shit shit shit shit
Like a deer caught in the headlights, she froze and watched the woman - or child, whatever it was - get back up and keep running with barely a glance at her direction. Still holding her breath, she waited for something to appear or attack. Moments passed, but nothing happened. She didn't notice me...did no one hear me? It sounded incredulous to her, but perhaps she got lucky. Or perhaps they were just pretending and were planning to sneak up on her. She had no way of knowing if anyone else heard her.
So far, no one was coming near her, but that could change at any second. Those three people out there could have heard her and were now plotting to attack her. And though she might be able to run away against one, she wouldn't stand a chance against three at the same time. It was still her second day in the game; she couldn't have gotten stronger in that margin of time. What is wrong with you woman?! You can't stay here any longer or they'll spot you. She wanted to move - her brain was screaming at her to get up - but she couldn't find the strength to do it. Her hands trembled and her legs felt like jelly. She squeezed her eyes shut and chanted a silent plea. Please don't let them find me please don't let them find me...
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electric has gangnam style and back to neverland |
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If you think yourself the hero, then beware the villains.
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Alchemist
Courtesan
Guild:
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Post by Scoria on Feb 23, 2014 1:50:13 GMT
My, someone sobered up fast. Was that the result of being drunk all the time, was it just an act, or was it something else? She was speaking with a surprising lack of slurring already, so perhaps Scoria had misjudged the drunkard. Or perhaps he was dead on when thinking she was insane, considering how she had just thrown the wannabe hero in his general direction. Smooth plan. His right arm and leg were both injured, with the former bleeding out like a small fountain. Where was Alraune? She could have just applied pressure on the wound and hung on like the little parasite she acted like, but a glance to the side indicated she had completely disappeared from view. Very well. Scoria's gaze slowly turned towards one of the remaining People of the Land, continuing to ignore Blackcoat and Elkeid as though they were no more than pieces of trash to be collected once more important business was done. With neither shame nor hesitation, the crimson-eyed player pulled his shirt off, using his teeth and his free hand to tie a very tight wrapping around the wound in his right arm. He might have been tough, but that didn't mean he knew what it was to bleed out. Even in this game, he wasn't taking chances. That got the attention of the person he was eying. The poor lad was nervous and flustered, not unlike Blackcoat, but unlike Blackcoat, Scoria had a job for this young gentleman. "Make sure Elise and Angelica and their family do not return until this is done. Get going." Allure seemed to be taking more effectiveness now, perhaps because Scoria had been using it nonstop all day, and the individual turned and stumbled away, scrambling across the floor and around the corner. Perhaps the weirdest thing, for those who weren't so drunk that they couldn't tell right from left, was that the People of the Land simply didn't seem all that bothered by Scoria's presence. Certainly, he was intimidating, and yes, he had just nearly killed one of them in cold blood in the streets, but those who lingered almost acted like they weren't actually afraid of him. Had he done something...? Well, he was about to do something. Scoria finally turned to face Blackcoat, noting the weapon held defensively at his chest. He had guts, at least. Even if he was clearly being pushed into this, he had guts. Scoria had a brief moment of approval for the minnow that had showed up in front of him, although his expression was just as harsh and unforgiving as always. Perhaps he didn't know, however, so Scoria deemed it necessary to inform him. By walking those six paces right up until he was in Blackcoat's face. A crimson right hand and a crimson pair of orbs almost seemed to be foreshadowing what Scoria might do to Blackcoat as he stepped closer and closer, bare chest and lean figure more or less in Blackcoat's personal space. "No PvP in the city, turtle. Make sure she doesn't yank off your banana one day." Oh god, Alraune was having him say things like 'turtle' as well. Scoria's foot came in to rest just behind Blackcoat's, as his bloody right arm rose up to reach for Blackcoat's shoulder. If the player was anything like what he looked like, even with that staff in the way probably some weak Enchanter weapon for pathetic Enchanters, he'd back up. And when he did, if he wasn't careful, he'd trip right over the foot that Scoria had snuck in there. Trip, fall over backwards, and stay down. "Don't push yourself." Scoria. Too funny. Even if Blackcoat didn't step back at the bloody hand, Scoria would set the crimson hand on Blackcoat's shoulder and give him a small shove. Shoves weren't considered fighting, or else Scoria certainly would have been murdered several times today. That much was for certain. Whatever Blackcoat did beyond that was his own business. He had his familiar to find. His MP couldn't take her mucking around doing her own thing for too much longer. With his ever-present scowl, Scoria moved past Blackcoat (provided the man didn't do anything) and headed down the way Alraune had headed. Where was that creature? He continued forward, glancing down alleys and stepping slowly, but strongly with each step, glancing down every alleyway and side street he came across. Right up until he came up to the alley Jade was hiding in. She probably should have just ran. His eyes didn't linger, but he himself did. Turning slowly around and taking a step forward back to Blackcoat and Elkeid, Scoria stopped a pace forward from the alley and raised his hand up as if to telepathically communicate. Maybe he'd reach his familiar this way. No? No. Didn't work. Allure activated once more. Even if it didn't work on Adventurers, it'd work on People of the Land just fine. The black-haired villain stared Elkeid and Blackcoat down, crimson eyes like small embers. "You should leave. The People of the Land spread rumors." Alraune wasn't in sight and he wasn't going to hunt her down, so he'd do something else instead. Meanwhile, the forest sprite was being a jerk and a half. Specifically, she had managed to worm her way up to where Vayne was, little 'ha!' and 'hup!' noises sounding out as she climbed the stairs and opened doors that were just out of her reach. It wasn't easy being two feet tall, that much was for certain. She managed to shuffle forward at some point and get near Vayne, chiming in with her two cents. "Turtle~! Is she a turtle too?" Alraune didn't look sad at all, contrary to her prior appearance. She had run around and back up to a vantage point, and while she had certainly been frightened, she got over it quickly. Turned out that the meanest Druid had an equally crafty familiar, even if she didn't look it. It wasn't like she had particularly meant to sneak up on Vayne and was in fact about three meters away, but up here on the rooftops, everything was a lot more quiet. Even the simplest of comments might he overheard. Maybe. Or maybe Alraune was just a cheating asshole. |
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"La vie est drôle."
Human
Inactive Player
Gold:
Artisan
Exorcist
Guild:
Looking for Guild
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Post by Elkeid on Feb 23, 2014 18:01:48 GMT
Watching Blackcoat fumble about was...painful, to say the least. She almost regretted not stepping in herself and handling the matter. ...And now he was talking about heals. 'Blackcoat, can you even throw a punch?' If one were to ask a computer program designed to answer like a magic eight ball (and rearrange the question to discard unfavorable answers), the answer would surely be "Don't Count On It." "Does the cleric even lift?" He was lucky that he had Elkeid ready to tap in and protect him, since she was sure he would shatter into a million little pieces if Scoria so much as laid a pinky on him. Speaking of Scoria...the young man had just shamelessly ripped off his shirt to use it to bandage his wounds. If the shirt wasn't in poor quality, she would have frowned at the waste of good material. There were other means, after all; like tearing a chunk of cloth from some poor passerby instead. Meek and fumbling Blackcoat seemed like the most likely target, though, and she couldn't help but clench her fists and stiffen up as the Druid - why was this guy fighting like he was a Monk, anyway - invaded the Cleric's personal space. What he said next surprised her, and it had nothing to do with the ban on pvp in safe zones. Most people already knew about that one. No; it was his comment on "yanking off Blackcoat's banana." Her ability to distinguish spoken words from other noise was still something she was still adjusting to, but her eyes had rarely failed her when she lip read. "...You little perv." She suddenly felt very sober and annoyed right now, though more at the People of the Land who had stood around and done nothing to stop the Druid from tossing around their fellow. The bystander effect was a good way to get someone maimed or killed. Even if Scoria was an Adventurer, they still outnumbered him and could have ran to get help, rather than watching or ignoring the scene of the crime. She probably should have expected this from these...people. When Scoria made physical contact with Blackcoat, Elkeid instinctively stepped forward, directly behind the Cleric. "Will Elkeid protect her feeble turtle duck?" Does a bear shit in the woods? So she made well on her promise, and encircled one arm around Blackcoat's shoulders to pull them out of Scoria's grasp, and one arm around BC's waist for further stabilization. The little shove from Scoria only helped her to ensure the protective grab, though it sent her stumbling back a step from the force. She felt like the half-back in rugby, right after a successful grab of the ball from an (oddly aggressive) team member. Blackcoat was probably lucky that they were not in a pvp zone, else he would have been vulnerable to several punches to the gut and face. The position he was in was not unlike the one bullied kids found themselves in, with one or two accomplices holding the victim still for the main offender to abuse. "Shhh," she said as she released his shoulders to pat him on the head, like a frightened bunny. She glared over Blackcoat's short mop of black hair at Scoria, who was retreating, though apparently not in that great of a hurry to leave the area. He was probably looking for his little…"flower girl." That kid was dangerous, and a bit of a weirdo, but it didn't look like he was going to immediately dive back into his shenanigans. She released Blackcoat and gently pushed him away from her, now that all signs of danger had passed. "Are you alright?" She was partially expecting him to answer in the negative, and mention a broken rib or two (because Scoria's shove was so hard that it could probably send disruptive vibrations like an AoE skill). The hand she placed on Blackcoat's shoulder was not as gentle, nor could she refrain from squeezing a little. The hand gripping Blackcoat's shoulder paused when Elk spied a familiar and ominous word sprout from Scoria's lips. Rumors. That sounded like too much of a threat to her, but with her limited knowledge of the game, she could not say why. Why did it sound like he would benefit more from these rumors than they would…? Whatever. It would look weird if someone came in and saw her and Blackcoat talking to a shirtless youth. People got all kinds of ideas at times like these. Crossing her arms and adopting a surly demeanor, Elkeid held her head high as she marched past Scoria. "Come along, Toto Blackcoat," she barked. She turned her steely green eyes on Scoria for the brief moment they were beside each other, but soon found herself glaring at the cowering figure of some Wolf-hair in the adjacent alley. It was just another bystander, and likely one that just wanted a good "show." Notes:Prepare for trouble, and make it double.
Word Count:822
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Post by Deleted on Feb 28, 2014 14:47:29 GMT
DON'T YOU REMEMBER WHY YOU DON'T HAVE A MOTHER? Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight? No? Well, Blackcoat feels like he has. He didn't get a chance to watch the NPC flutter away at Scoria's orders - no, he was too busy stuttering and stammering out his own response in some attempt to not die. The shark came ever closer to the small fish that he felt like, and Blackcoat could have broken out into a nervous sweat if he wasn't already trying to hold in a piss. His breath caught in his chest as the crimson orbs burned into the back of his eye sockets, altogether feeling very violated - while he wasn't much of a person to have a 'bubble' for other people to stay out of, he felt more like a sword was being thrust into his abdomen than a friendly poke into personal space. It wasn't a threat, but it was. The warning against PVP in any other tone could have been taken in different ways but it was clear that Scoria meant one thing: Don't tread on me. The consistent breach of personal space bothered the Cleric to the point of being unable to realize exactly where Scoria was violating - the foot went unnoticed as he was too busy trying not to look away from the embers in his eyes. Before his body could tell him to move backwards, he was given some friendly help from Scoria in the matter, and he fell. Or he would have, had his monk caretaker not caught him in an embrace to prevent him from making love to the ground. A shush was hushed to him before he could say a word, realizing how odd he may have looked - clutching his staff much like a child would a teddy bear after a thunderstorm, shoulders tensed and now being supported by the fighter. There was a tender touch to his head that caused him to shade ever slightly pink from embarrassment as his eyes turned to watch the crocodile in human clothing. Then he was pushed away before his gaze could hold true - not roughly pushed like Scoria, but enough to give him a single hobble step - as Elkeid decided that he was able to stand on his own two feet. He whipped his chocolate eyes to the monk when she prompted a question, blinking once. "I'm f-fine, I think." He was - no damage done physically, even if he was a bit shaken up from having flashbacks to locker shoving in school. He had things to comfort him, at any rate. The grip on his shoulder was comforting, sure, but Blackcoat didn't want comfort. He wanted answers as to why this guy was doing this stuff, and what all he meant. His brain tried to wrack itself for answers, to no avail. However, the moment passed and suddenly Elkeid had him at the beck and call, barking out an order that caused him to flinch up and to attention, falling in line behind her to follow her like the obedient puppy he was. |
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