Enter the World through the Lambda Server

Moderator: Nighthand

Locked
User avatar
Sekai
Ikkitousen
Posts: 123
Joined: Tue Apr 10, 2007 11:04 pm
Class: Archer
Location: Liminality

Post by Sekai » Thu Aug 02, 2007 4:37 am

The tablet out of her hands and into those of someone who was more capable than she to solve and puzzle over it left Sekai with very little to do according to anyone who may have been paying attention. Unfortunately for the young Archer, that wasn't exactly the case and things were always so complicated where life and her responsibiities were concerned. Slipping quietly into one of the high backed chairs that took place in the Common Room, the tawny eyed girl stared off into space, head leaning back against the back of the chair and expression a cross between anxiety and unease. The battle with the Devil had gone poorly in her eyes, a victory in theirs that left a bitter, almost sickening taste rising in her throat at the thought of it, and people were fighting amongst each other within the group that was supposed to support each other.

'Why can't people agree on the really important things? We're all in the same situation so... then why aren't we looking out for each other like we should?'

Taking care of each other was something she felt should be on high priority, after all, one person could only do so much on their own before the assistance of another person or persons was required to continue forward. If she weren't so tired and light headed, Sekai guessed that she'd likely be up and pacing back and forth across the room like she usually did when she was thinking too much about something. Sasuke was the Commander of the Army of Darkness; technically meaning that he was the boss of her and those in the clan. She had her orders to get a team together and go on a rescue mission since he'd been captured. But... then again, there was Silverblade-san, Raine-san, Sheena-san and Nall-san that were of the same rank as Sasuke in terms of rank amongst the group.

Though, was it odd that the Freedom Fighters, as she'd heard them call themselves, had four commanders rather than just one?

'I don't know any of them other than a few politely spoken words or the introduction from the meeting prior to the hub we just finished with. Then again, I'm not familiar with Sasuke-san either even though I've been in that clan a good deal of time now.'

That was another thing; despite fighting in battle together against a difficult, understatement not intended, opponent, she had the vague sense that there really wasn't a true show and feeling of teamwork that could prove very valuble in upcoming battles and future operations. Why was it they didn't get along or didn't at least put aside their differences and let themselves guard one another's weaknesses so that the team wouldn't be separated and no one being killed off one by one?

Little one? You think entirely too much, you know that? Vulcan be damned, you're going to give yourself an ulcer if you keep thinking so much.

She frowned at the commentary within her mind, brow furrowing as she sighed and whispered softly in response to the AI.

"I just... have things on my mind to think about... that is all, really."

Tawny eyes closed as she sighed softly and leaned back in the chair, back and posture still straight as was proper of someone of her... outside status and proper manner. It was hard to relax when so much was on one's mind, though she thought maybe a few moments of shutting her eyes might be enough to wake her up from the nightmare that she felt she was thrown into and kept getting thrown deeper into.
Image

Name: Sekai
Level: 54
EXP: 0000/1000
Class: Archer
Clan: Army of Darkness
HP: 835
SP: 347

Currently Equipped:

Einherjar: Kira, December, Zorya

Head: Bat Earrings (Ola Repth 40, Rip Maen 40)
Body: Saint Cross (Rue Zot 10, RaJuk Zot 30)
Arm: Protect Ring (Ap Vorma 15, MeJuk Kruz 20)
Leg: Ninja Anklet (BiVak Rom 20, GiGan Zot 30)
Add-Ons: Forestlore, Wood Magic (permanently raised Wood Offense/Defense by +3 total)

Wishlist: Levels, Summon: Wood, Archer Weapons, Light Armor

Fuzzhead
Elevated Player
Posts: 37
Joined: Fri Apr 08, 2005 1:27 am

Post by Fuzzhead » Thu Aug 02, 2007 4:48 am

Silk pondered the tablets for some time. As in, double-digit hours. Unfortunately, he made absolutely zero headway, and it looked like no one wanted to take a shot at it either. This perplexed the Fist Fighter – clearly these clues were important hints as to how they should reach their ultimate goal (whatever that was), yet no one had stepped up to the challenge.

Without warning, however, the very impressive mage in the group approached the Fist Fighter, posing this question: "Has anyone figured out the answers to these riddles, or at least what questions the possible answers would be for?"

Looking up from the tablets, Silk knuckled his eyes – they burnt from incessant staring, not to mention the irritating fluorescent lights above. “Heh... you'd think that people would try to put more stock into these things,” he began while stretching out aching muscles; he had been sitting still for quite some time, “but so far I'm the only one whose even bothered to look at them."

The mage looked skeptical. He seems to be a by-the-numbers type of guy, thought the Fist Fighter to himself. Practical, straightforward – the best kind of fighter. "I wonder if it's worth the time... this information is being given in such a roundabout way. It's a riddle as is, and to attain the answer, the Devil was offering help to begin with. It makes me wonder if solving it on our own will have any value."

"Yeah, I see what you mean... but I don't have anything better to do...” shrugged the Fist Fighter. He gestured towards the door into the main sitting area – “the only people I know here just pissed me off by killing the Devil. I'm Silk, by the way." He extended his hand for a shake, which was immediately returned. If only those two hadn’t been so hasty… thought the Fist Fighter regretfully. If the Devil was willing to join our cause, his strength would practically double our overall killing power.

"My name is Rayo. A pleasure to meet you under better circumstances. I was wondering who exactly the fist fighter was who went on defense." The mage was quiet, and perhaps a bit stiff. Probably because he’s a genious.

"Yeah, that was me,” nodded Silk, turning slightly and leaning against the table. “I didn't have any lightning spells to really be effective, so I figured I would just soak up hits for ya. Pretty impressive display, I might add." Hell ya it was an impressive display. PhaGan Dons seemed to puke out of his mouth!

"Thanks. Your flaming fist combo looked like it would have been impressive had things been a bit different. Unfortunately I won't be using any level four spells for a while now, so keep that in one in your memory if you ever have to fight a wavemaster."

Perplexed, Silk scratched his head. "Huh? What do you mean by that?" Upon Silk’s prompt, the archer raised a shiny silver bow complete with an artfully gilded quiver. How the class change had failed to grab his attention was beyond Silk; he was just glad that he wasn’t getting made fun of.

"I've just changed my class to that of an archer since our last battle. It should prove more effective in the events to come."

"Good God... I completely failed to notice. Well congratulations, man. I hope it works out for you."

Thinking back to the fight, Silk realized he had a chance to really voice his thoughts on the boss fight that had so recently taken place. Truly, the teamwork was scarce – it was little more than an endless “hit the guy until he dies” waterfall of attacks. While this was okay for an arrogant prick like the Devil, it would hardly succeed against a sharper foe. If they had come up against an enemy with half a brain and the brawn of the Devil, the Freedom Fighters as the World knew it would be gone.

"Hey, you notice how crappy the teamwork is?” muttered Silk, passion edging his voice. Truly, something needed to be done about this hodge-podge of fighters. “I mean, sure we had our moments, but overall, it felt like a pretty ramshackle affair. People were left wide open plenty of times -- had we fought against an intelligent boss instead of a cocky, bloodthirsty monster, we would've been torn apart! I don't really know enough people to suggest actual practices and the like...” Following Zan’s explosion on Senna, Silk felt that the werewolf would only get pissed at him for suggesting that they weren’t using their full potential, “...but I bet if at least you and I teamed up in these fights... y'know, watched each others backs... we could really make a difference. Who knows, perhaps other people would follow suit, and the team as a whole could really take off." Pairing off soldiers was how they did it in the Marines; it could work just as well for them.

"Sounds fine by me. I tried that a while ago, ages back with the former version of this group.” The mage seemed to look inward, remembering times long past. “Unfortunately, not everyone is still alive today. Saying team might be too strong a word, we're more of an association of similarly hindered players. We all have our own dreams, plans, and tactics or lack thereof, and for many the others just happen to be walking the same path for now. I'll try to fight alongside you to the best of my ability, just don't mind the names I come up with for tactics."

Realizing that the Archer had a good point, Silk felt a little down. Looking at the big picture, surely his push for better fighting efficiency was pointless… even so, he would take a stab at levity by building on Rayo’s last comment. If the Archer got the reference, it would be hilarious. If not… Silk would just look stupid.

"Initiate the Picard Maneuver!…?" he said, his voice peaking near the end in hopefulness. A little curl peeked out from the corners of the Archer’s lips, indicating that he had met success. “Boo ya! Star Trek for the win!”

Fist Pumps, High Fives, and Manly Butt Spanks were in order.
Level 25 Fist Fighter
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband

Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher

Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items

Hacorie
Ikkitousen
Posts: 105
Joined: Thu Sep 30, 2004 11:30 pm
Location: Here and there.
Contact:

Post by Hacorie » Thu Aug 02, 2007 8:16 am

Still leaned against the wall with a smirk on his face, Hacorie notices the ‘bad ass’ Heavy Blade begin to stir from his seemingly deep thought. Maybe Zan was thinking of how wrong he had been, and maybe even apologize to Hacorie for his emotional imbalance earlier. It was a gleeful thought, indeed; too bad things did not end in such a manner. Instead, Zan left the room with not a word to anyone; his silence was quite the annoyance. The player kept to himself too much, and only seemed to be extremely friendly to the Archer named Sekai. Even though Zan stated nothing else to Hacorie after their ‘discussion’ earlier, resentment still remained in both their hearts. Maybe it was the way The World’s gods intended it to be, but either way, Hacorie took no more time to talk to a character who would not even reply to a simple hello. A few minutes later, Nighthand left the room in the same direction of Zan. Watching the leader continue down the hall, Hacorie hoped he would finally be able to solve the riddle of Nighthand’s stand on the entire matter.

Pressing against the wall with his back, Hacorie stood upright and began to walk out of the meeting room. Nothing seemed to spark his interest now his self decided rival and leader had left. Slowly pacing down the hallway, Hacorie began to hear voices emanating from the commons room. “Hmm...seems I may have to wait to talk to him...I wonder what is going on...” Hacorie stated as he identified another voice in the room. It was one in which he had not heard in a while: the smart ass, evil, conniving, red headed idiot boy Reinier. The character had been a thorn in Hacorie’s side since Reinier’s debut in the Freedom Fighters. Who knows what sparked the initial rivalry, but whatever it was never died. Slightly looking around the corner, Hacorie noticed another member of the group in the room, Zan. It was very interesting the werewolf would be friends with such a boy who even acts like a child at most times. Maybe he has changed... Hacorie thought as he began to listen in on the conversation at hand. As the voices finished, the Heavy Blade’s eyes opened wide.

What a...weird situation.

After speculating the whole Reinier incident due to his recent eavesdropping, the Heavy Blade watched on as Nighthand put the lowest of the three characters to sleep with his long-winded speech. With a chuckle underneath his breath, Hac turned back toward the meeting room only to hear the footsteps of someone behind him. He stopped in his tracks at first; had he been caught in the evil situation of listening in? Nothing was said from behind him, so he continued walking while shifting a glance backwards. Hacorie saw it was the darkness oriented Heavy Blade from just a few seconds ago: Nighthand. Shortening his pace unnoticeably, Hac let the character pass. Feeling the wind follow Nighthand, the character looked on in confusion. Nothing was said to him about the entire incident from the second hub; only the single personalized Flashmail was the response of the so-called leader, which happened earlier as they returned. Glancing down at his own feet, Hacorie let out a sigh. His mind began to wander. What does he really think about the matter? I wonder if he holds as much resentment as Zan does. After all, I see them talking and conversing a bit. Could it be their personalities are so alike? Maybe...maybe not. Nighthand seems more down to earth and open to everyone, but I guess he has to be to be known as a good leader.

Continuing to travel a way behind Nighthand, Hacorie noticed the Heavy Blade head into a room with aromas that could cause an orgasm in one’s mouth. Again peeking around the corner, Hacorie saw Nighthand already snacking on a dairy substance. Before actually entering the doorway of the kitchen, Hacorie took one deep breath. He unexpectedly let out a heavy cough from all the substances he inhaled as they overpowered the single sense. Now unable to continue his secretive assassin spying skills, Hacorie entered the room as he brought his hand to his downed hood. Scratching the back of his head with the hand in the air, he spoke a few words as trying not to let on that he was actually stalking the character. “Um...Hello Nighthand.” With a bit of uneasiness in his words, Hacorie looked at the other Heavy Blade hoping he would actually give him a response the first time around. Hacorie wished for this to be true; after all Zan seemed to pay him no attention. Crossing mental fingers, the Heavy Blade looked on eagerly, but also with a bit of anxiety formed in his bright eyes.

"Hmm? Oh, what's up?" Nighthand replied in a seemingly laid back attitude.

What a simple answer... Hacorie confusedly thought while also trying to mentally regroup. The response took him by complete surprise. Hacorie was anticipating a stern talking to be the kickoff. He was obviously wrong, and after jumbling a few sentences in his head, he closed his eyes and began to speak to the Heavy Blade. "Well obviously you know of the 'crime' Senna and I committed, but I wanted to at least go more in depth with someone of my personal reasons. After trying to smooth things over with the werewolf boy did not work...I thought maybe you would be willing to listen?" Reopening one of his eyes after a moment, Hacorie began to hope that Nighthand was not getting ready to stab his azure eyes out for his previous actions in which Silverblade bore witness. However, his second eye slowly opened as the mood of the Heavy Blade seemed to remain unchanged. Maybe he really is different from that foolish boy...

"Eh. Go for it. When you've been around as long as I have and still have to scrape for information about anything going on, you tend to care more about information than a measly monster's life... but whatever. No taking it back now." This reply was a bit different than the last. It was short and to the point, but it also incased Nighthand’s preference toward the matter; he really did not agree with the rash decision the two had made, but he was admirable for being able to keep his cool unlike certain other members of the party. Nighthand wanted information, and that was all he seemed to care about. Hacorie continued to think on the reasons why he had joined in with Senna. It was not to protect her or share the emotional anguish, but instead it was his own choice. She just happened to pick the same. Truly knowing, in his own mind, what Nighthand’s choice was, Hacorie decided it was time to actually give his own reasons; he wanted to show he was doing something great and not to spite the group.

"Heh...I guess the information would have been helpful to the group as a whole, but do you think it would come without some sort of catch? I thought of it as...maybe a little too in depth, but this Marionette guy, he tries to toy with our thoughts and emotions so I have seen. He knows about all of us, but still seems to play a game instead of just killing us. If we would have spared the Devil's life, would we not have just been playing into his trap? I mean it's not often you mean a boss type monster who pleads for its life by bribing the party who has it on the ropes, neh?" What the blue-eyed Heavy Blade said made sense in his own mentality. To escape the strings of the puppet master, one must go against the obvious choice. It was the only perceivable solution to the entire case. Why can the others not see this. Maybe this will persuade him to look at the entire matter as a whole, as I did, but then again...his choice is probably set in stone within his heart. After all, he did say all he wanted was information...

"True. Then again, what's to stop Marionette from simply resurrecting his monster now that we think he's dead, or creating multiple copies? The monster, alive or dead, is still in the end his creation, and can be copied, recreated, or destroyed. On the other hand, the information we lost, even if it was false, is information we don't have one way or the other. Whatever the case, if Marionette is toying with us, we answered that test. Maybe we failed it, if he was testing to see whether or not we would take an opportunity given to us to advance. He obviously knows where we're headed, and what's in store for us; now we have no warning of something that could be deadly enough that even he decided to give us a chance at fair warning." Hacorie had never thought of the outcome Nighthand had projected to rebut his own. How many times had the aqua based Heavy Blade ever been faced with reincarnations of deceased data? None, that is the answer. This solution began to bring a lingering feeling of fear into the character. If Marionette could just recreate anything it had programmed before...the group could be in for a challenge at or after the final hub. As long as the guardian who pulled the strings still lived, anything seemed to be possible. However, this made Hacorie begin to think even further into the matter; he was getting too in depth once again.

“To respond to your first question. If we would have spared it, the same outcome could come to pass. Marionette could still copy or recreate that monstrosity how he sees fit. However, the last part of your statement causes me a bit of concern. Not because I did not think of that possibility of going in blind, but instead I would like to refer to Sheena's Flashmail. She said the area where the third hub is placed had changed. Even though this was after Senna and I acted on our choice, couldn't we still conclude it was a ploy. Even though this is based on conjecture. I say Marionette changed the place thinking we would spare the Devil's life. However, since we know not of the information it held within its mind..." Hacorie stopped for a second while tilting his head to the floor before continuing in a quieter tone, "we will never know." It finally dawned on the character. This was what Zan and Nighthand had been thinking all along. The one statement Hacorie just admitted to must of been what caused Zan to just snap. Now the party knew nothing of what was to come. Hacorie though, did not linger on this thought much; his decision was already made. Even though nothing was certain about the next area save the boss, he still believed his choice was best.

"Exactly. We'll never know. And that, in the end, is what bothers me." I thought so...

"Well...thank you Nighthand. You have done more than just listen, which was my initial plea. I just have one more thought...When I came back, we went to the second hub with only the knowledge the one group found. They knew nothing of the Devil or the Fae's which resided inside correct? Now, we only know of the name of the next guardian: Marionette Angel. We defeated the Devil while not knowing it had four forms...We may be scattered sporadically in our own thoughts, but we still beat it without knowing...I believe we can do it again. Who knows, maybe it can be simpler if you and Nall do not get captured again." Hacorie said as he cracked a smile near the end of his speech. Wow... Hacorie thought as he noticed his emotions begin to express his inner thoughts through facial expressions. Even though it was obvious Nighthand was against Senna and Hac’s decision, he made Hacorie feel secure in expressing his own thoughts. It had been a short debate, but Hacorie finally realized what had resulted in the entire conversation; Hacorie now knew that he could trust the Heavy Blade leader; although he did keep the ideal that Nighthand still did not trust in Hacorie completely suppressed in the depths of his mind.

"We shall see. We did know of the fae, or at least one of them, going into that hub. We also could have guessed at the four forms, given that the prior guardian had four as well. But yeah, we'll see how it turns out. Nothing we can do about it now." Hacorie felt like a complete idiot now. If he had been supplied with accurate information from the beginning, he could have spared himself the embarrassment of making such a premature conjecture. All in all, it was done and over with, just as his actions earlier; there was nothing he could do or wanted to do to change it.

"Hakuna Matata..." Hacorie laughed as he got up from one of the kitchen chairs and started making his way to the door. Before exiting, he paused and expressed one last sarcastic notion. "Remember, we have the 'uber powerful and invincible Zan' on our team." Exiting the door, he heard his laughter echo against the walls. After all, his statement did take him back to the meeting room when Zan claimed he was better than Hacorie.

Feeling completely relieved by the entire situation now, Hacorie decided it was about time for him to head back into the meeting room. As he was pacing through the hall, he passed the barracks where he stopped for a minute amount of time. His mouth began to fill with saliva as the thought of a good rest came into his head, but he still had to get one more thought off of his chest. This subconscious thought referred to the Flashmail from another one of the leaders at an earlier time: Sheena. As Hacorie had mentioned to Nighthand only moments before, Sheena had sent a Flashmail to the entire party stating the hub had changed. However, her Flashmail did not contain any sort of information on the noticeable changes. Though, it could be noted the team had never seen the original graphical design, it would not hurt to ask about the changes that occurred while the party was at the second hub having fun with the Marionette Devil especially if Nighthand wanted information.

Reentering the Meeting Room, Hacorie looked directly at the woman named Sheena. “What exactly were the transformations you mentioned in your Flashmail earlier?” Even though it was blunt and to the point, Hacorie hoped she would answer him. Who knows, maybe other members of the group had been pondering the exact same.
Hacorie
Level 36 Heavy Blade
Gold: 21237

Equips
Oceanic Aura/Sharktooth-Ice Helm-Winter Coat-
Shiva's Rings-Bondage Pants
---Water Magic, BL Yokohama

Wishlist:
Level Meh Up
Weapons: Sakabatou/Rock n Roll/Peace Blade
Body: Knight's Armor
Other: Earthlore/Feng Shui
--------Water/Earth Scrolls

User avatar
Nighthand
Master of Games
Posts: 1265
Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
Class: Bladesmage
Location: ...Tracking...please wait...

Post by Nighthand » Thu Aug 02, 2007 8:21 am

Nighthand’s mind was awake and active, even while his body wasn’t. His body slept, gaining much needed rest from the trials Silverblade had put it through. Even though the AI personality, grafted to him by a long-gone hacker, had been designed to take over his body… he still wasn’t exactly used to controlling one. He had a tendency to put a bit more effort into simple actions than was necessary. As a result, where Nighthand had gone several quests before without sleeping, Silverblade had tired them out more in merely one.

Forcing his mostly-rested body up at the chime of a Flashmail, he read it with a certain note of displeasure.

Flashmail!
To: Nighthand, Raine, Sheena
From: Zan

There's something wrong with Reinier's avatar and, to boot, his memory. If you guys could get working on a solution, I'd appreciate it. I have no clue what to do with him.

-Zan

Flashmail! End


Another mind swap or something… great. What’s up with all these personality shifts anyways? Between Silverblade and myself, the Sekai and Kira situation, Zhao and whatever he had going on, Lighteria and Raven… and now this. It’s like the mind is some sort of playground for irritating things in The World to collect in.

Crawling out of the bed, he first addressed the Reinier issue right away. He was younger now, and much more innocent than before… and he was apparently narcoleptic. Oh well. Noting out of the corner of his eye that Sekai was sitting in the room, he decided he would talk to her… after a brief trip. Stopping by the item shops to see if there was anything he wanted, he headed for the kitchen. Dealing with the NPC was too much of a hassle for him, so he opened what passed for a fridge, massive as it was, and found something to snack on. A few pieces of cheese and a talk with Hacorie later, he poured himself a glass of milk and, as an afterthought, poured a second.

Emerging from the kitchen, and passing through the shop room, he entered the common room with minimal sound. Taking a seat near Sekai’s position, he set both glasses down with a clink on a small end table between them. He picked up his glass and tried to get as comfortable as he could, though his tightly-furled wings made it difficult to sit in normal chairs comfortably.

Her eyes opened slowly to the sound of movement close by, blinking a few times to regain focus as she stared at the glass in front of her and then looked up. Her mouth opened, closed and opened again as she tried to get some sort of reply out of her suddenly dry throat.

"A-Ah..."

"Speechless? Well, I suppose I can start off. I know Silverblade talked to Kira, but I wasn't around then to introduce myself. I'm Nighthand." He offered a smile to reassure her, but part of him didn’t think it would work. She seemed agitated.

A quick flicker over the girl's body and standing behind the chair was the aforementioned AI. Sekai tried not to fidget as Kira let a bit of a saucy grin take her expression.

"So you're his host eh?? Dunno what Hi Ho Silver's talkin' about but hey, maybe you'll be good enough in battle not to take a beauty nap when faced with a boss."

Sekai colored in embarrassment, hands covering her face in response to the teasing tone in the AI's voice. Again, Nighthand smiled, this time at the AI.

”Ah yes, Kira. Ever the smart mouth; you’ll fit in well. Or at least would have, before Reinier had his little innocence-trip and Zan, well, overall got angrier. And yes, I try not to sleep on the job…” He paused, his eye going back to Sekai rather than her companion. ”Sorry to talk over your head there. As much as I’m probably not the one to do so, I’m as much leader here as Nall or Raine, so I might as well try to make you feel more at ease. Chances are you’ll be stuck with us for a while anyways…”

She peeked from between her fingers, blinking at the direct address towards her, averting her eyes and biting her lip a little before shaking her head, back against the... well, back of the chair as flat as it would go.

"U-um, it's... its okay N-Nighthand-san. I-err.. um, w-we'll do what we can to be of assistance."

"Not the most assertive, are you. Is she?" He redirected his question to Kira. "You know her better than I do of course. I can't honestly say I'm good at this whole 'putting people at ease' thing. I'm usually the one who stands around mysteriously, gives orders, and kills things."

Kira gave a shrug, ghostly hand patting the girl's head from above as she responded, a bit of a mischievous glint to her eyes sparkling wickedly.

"Gotta love the shy ones. Oi, what Wave, err, sorry, element are you again?"

Looking at her with his good eyebrow raised, what would be a quizzical expression without the scar down his face, he chuckled. "You mean you can't tell? Well, technically I work just about as well with any of them. I've always had a preference for Darkness, though. As evidenced by my name, eyes, mode of dress... you know. The subtle clues."

Kira only had time for a rather wide grin and two words before she vanished from sight as a terrified and strangled sounding half shriek, half yelp loosed itself from the small girl's mouth, body violently hurling itself against the back of the chair and effectively tipping the piece of furniture backwards to the floor. Once it hit the floor, the girl sat stunned for a moment before scrambling to get to her feet and began to clumsily head towards the nearest exit.

"Got ya."

Internally, Nighthand felt his alter ego awaken from his nap. Rise and shine, sleepy.

Yeah yeah… What’d I miss? Came the tired-sounding reply.

Not too much. Reinier’s back with some massive changes. And, apparently, I scared the shit out of Sekai. Guess she doesn’t like darkness.

Understatement of the week…

Staying where he was, and slightly marveling at how she had managed to completely avoid spilling the milk he had brought for her, Nighthand simply watched. Taking a sip from his own glass, he rested it on the arm of the chair while he spoke.

”Well, that certainly wasn’t nice of you, Kira. Some protector you are…” Though, internally, a part of him was grinning. He certainly would have done the same in her place… it was kind of funny.

Kira reappeared, one hand on her hip and an unusually serious expression on her face as she tilted her head to one side slightly, an oddly feline looking gesture, before she responded.

"Nice? I don't play nice and I don't play either. You're Ani, one under Wryneck. She's terrified of that Wave and it's time for her to get over it. You're being used to treat this fear, don't like it? Fine, I'll find another. I don't do the same protection you humans think of."

”Ah yes, the old ‘cure the fear of heights with skydiving’ trick. You know that never works, right? Most of the time it simply causes a nervous breakdown and usually a big enough mental change that you didn’t so much cure the person as you did break them. Now see, had you let us have a nice talk, as strained as it may have been, she would have seen that I’m not one for her to fear, and known that once she learned my element. However, what’s done is done. All that’s left now is to demonstrate that the element itself isn’t to be feared.”

Wait, you’re not actually… Silverblade started, but his suspicion was already confirmed. Nighthand lifted the lid on his damaged eye, and showed for the first time what now lay beneath it. Kira and Sekai, if she was looking, would see a void into empty space, a space that held stars. Six stars, to be precise. Twinkling in various colors, Kira would be quick to notice their colors corresponded with the six waves; a light purple and red, a subtle yellow and green, and vibrant blue and brown. The small stars seemed to move, never fixed to a single spot, but their movement was independent of any orb they may have rested on had there actually been an eye in place.

Before much thought could be given to that, Nighthand’s arm raised and gestured in the direction of the sprawled girl. ”Ani Kruz.” He muttered to himself.

As the spell took shape in the world around them, Sekai would find herself surrounded by small orbs of darkness. Similar to the orbs that Lighteria had created when his hack went off, these were formed of pure spell energy rather than whatever substance Lighteria’s came from. Before the spell had a chance to fully go off, however, Nighthand reached out his mental grasp as easily as ever before. This was how his powers had acted before Xenobia’s intervention… and for this moment, he was lucky. The purple star flared slightly in his eye, and he saw with greater clarity the fields that made up the spell, more detail than he could have before. That was what the eye did for him; allowed his spell controls to function better. They still weren’t perfect, of course, but it was better than before. (Roll of 20+1for eye +1 for darkness)

Nighthand began to speak, as the orbs of darkness demonstrated that they weren’t going to converge upon the hapless archer any time soon. ”Darkness isn’t evil. It isn’t anything more than energy. Wryneck himself isn’t evil either. I wield his power and his blade, and I’m not evil, or corrupt, or anything of the sort.” The orbs began to move, but instead of moving closer to the archer, they swarmed about his outstretched palm-up hand, swirling in a complicated dance and shrinking to the size of marbles. ”This power is nothing to be afraid of, no more than Vulcan’s or Krake’s, or any other element.” He closed his fist, and the orbs puffed out of existence. A moment later, he closed the elemental eye. ”Do you see? The power isn’t good or evil, only the user is.”

"Worked well enough for me and mine; it'll work for her because, like you said, I know her best; she'll overcome her fear since she's in my world now."

Kira responded coldly, eyes narrowing as she watched him open the closed eye with some sort of amusement slash bored apathetic interest. Nice trick was what she'd wanted to say but wisely for the time being shut her mouth and watched him take matters into his own hands. He had no idea what kind of crap had happened and she'd be willing to bet money he wouldn't have a clue unless she or Sekai said anything either. Sekai, on the other hand, froze in place like a deer in the proverbial headlights at the sound of the Ani spell being cast, her thoughts wild and wondering what she'd done. Heart rate sped up, all the color drained from her face, leaving her skin tone a rather ashen gray as she trembled violently and looked the picture of someone who's mind was about to snap. Her eyes didn't leave the orbs, following them even as she had to look over her shoulder, straining her neck as she watched the orbs dance about around the hand and just as suddenly vanish as they had been cast. Confusion and terror were two things that remained in her expression as she looked from the materialized form of Kira to the one who'd made the orbs vanish and back again with a shaky statement.

"H-He was there, n-now he's n-not."

Nighthand, after his display, had to force himself not to revel in the power he knew he could control. That single spell, with the control over it he had, could have utterly destroyed the fragile girl before him. And yet, it had never stood a chance of doing so; that was not his intention. Blinking and returning to the conversation, he studied the pair.

”So, a bad encounter with one who not only gives me a bad reputation, but tarnishes the face of my element. Is that is? Bah, I hate those cliché ‘death and doom’ bastards. Give me ten minutes with him and I’ll show him what true Darkness is.” Grimacing, he resisted the urge to do anything more, and instead sat still and continued to sip his milk. ”Calm down, girl. You’ll find few powers in this world with greater command over Darkness than myself, and I’m on your side.”

Kira gave a short laugh and headed over to the still shaken girl, leaning down and looking like she was whispering into her ear before nodding and following the girl as she made her way back to the chair and put it upright again. When Sekai was seated and taking small, cautious sips out of the glass of milk, Kira responded to this Nighthand's boast or fact considering the quality of control.

"The one who did this to her is on the same level as Silver Bullet and to an extent, me as well. Doesn't matter if it's friend or foe; someone uses Ani of any kind and she's useless."

Sekai seemed to shrink in on herself even more at the mere mentioning of the person, eyes lowered and concentrated on something in her lap or on her hakama as she quietly spoke.

"He always shows up when that element is around... I'm the only one who sees him... I'm... I'm sorry."

”No, I should apologize. That little display of power was probably out of line. Still, I doubt I would have trouble with him. That conflict we’ll save for another day, however. There’s only one Darkness user that I fear facing alone, and that’s Garaa, hacker elite of Darkness. I wouldn’t blame her for panicking when he’s around; he’s the only one to successfully kill Nall. Regardless, if we encounter him, it will be on our own terms.” He paused, finishing off his milk and setting aside the glass, which quickly disappeared, presumably to return to the kitchen. ”You’ll need to get over that fear, though. I DO tend to use Darkness quite a bit, given my level of control over it. You’ll see it often enough, though, you should get used to it.”

Her hair fell into her face as she set the unfinished drink to the side, the glass also vanishing as she sat there with her hands folded in her lap and head bowed in shame, like she'd been scolded for being useless once again.

"I'm sorry..."

She repeated again, much softer than before as Kira frowned down at her charge and raised an eyebrow in Nighthand's direction as if to say 'your move now', though her hand drifted down and rested on the girl's shoulder.

Nighthand himself was silent for the moment, so Silverblade took the chance to interrupt. He fizzled and appeared in a mostly transparent image, akin to the way Kira stood, though with noticeably less ability to do so. His image was like Nighthands, save his coat, clothes, wings, and single eye were silver.

”Well that was awkward.”

”Wait… you can do that? Since when?”

”Since just now, apparently. Amazing what you can do when you set your mind to it. Anyways, Sekai, none of that is your fault. As much as you feel useless or broken or whatever, it’s obvious that this other character is causing you your distress. So, look to Nighthand here; he may be a bit coarse, but he means you no harm, and, if you’ll let him… let us, we’ll do our best to help you with whatever’s going on. Okay?” He finished, and Nighthand, feeling it wise to agree with him, nodded as well.

"Hi ho Silver; finish your beauty sleep? Y'missed the lesbian sex show in Theta during your nap. It was pretty sweet."

A saucy grin was sent in his direction as Kira gave a bit of a salute in Silverblade's general direction and raised an eyebrow at the color contrast between the two of them... and resisted the temptation to make comparisons and jokes.

"I just, it's not...you don't- It's just... I can't."

The last bit sounded forced and the girl like she was on the verge of tears as she shook her head. Kira's eyes rolled in exasperation before she shook her head at the two of the winged guys in front of her and made a motion with her hand to cut the subject for the time being.

Silverblade simply winked at Kira. ”You think I missed it?” He then shrugged, addressing Sekai. After a pause, he found that words failed him, and simply nodded to her. With that, he disappeared, presumably back into Nighthand’s head, wherever it was he lurked. Nighthand himself chuckled a little at the exchange.

”You’ll do fine. You’ll see.” He stood, stretching his back a bit, but not unfolding his stiffened and aching wings. Those could stay the way they were. ”I should see if there’s anything that needs to be done, though, so… I’ll catch you later.”

And with that, he was gone, heading for the meeting room and the tablets.

Flashmail!
From: Raine
To: The Freedom Fighters

I’m just reminding everyone that suggestions about the hideout, anyone wanting to start a training room session, or whatever questions you might have can be directed to me. I’m in the meeting room.

~Raine
End Flashmail


So… it was getting to be that time again. What oddities would the last hub have in store for them?

-----------------------------------ooc:
So far so good, people, I like the speed and the amount of interaction we’re all having. Let’s keep it up, and this quest should be done in no time.

I doubt this will last another three rounds of in-hideout stuff, so we should be leaving for the field soon enough. Make sure to get whatever IC explanations for solos or training room quests you need before we head out.

Zan
Exalted Player
Posts: 206
Joined: Sat Jan 22, 2005 10:28 pm
Contact:

Post by Zan » Thu Aug 02, 2007 8:51 pm

Zan hadn't taken two steps out of the Chaos Gate room (Nulus back out again after a pleading argument to let him do so) when Zhao stopped him to talk. The conversation was notably awkward and not the most comfortable time the lycanthrope had had speaking to someone, but it was still oddly nice to have someone ask to know more about you. The interest, the Lycan supposed, was pleasant. Still, he would have been lying if he said he wasn't glad to be away from the Twin Blade soon after. The kid was obviously going through something difficult and Zan was terrible when it came to dealing with such people. Secure in the knowledge that he had at least done his best, the Heavy Blade made his way towards the Kitchen with a light grumble in his stomach. The Meeting Room had apparently served its purpose and, from what his flared senses could tell him, nothing important was happening within its walls. The trip to the Kitchen made Zan ponder over a question he had previously asked himself in regards to the Shade; could he eat? Nulus heard the mental question and chuckled behind him, giving no response until they had walked up to the NPC. The smells that flooded Zan's nostrils were intoxicating. The drool that collected in his mouth had to be swallowed a number of times while he pondered his selection and his partner spoke up.

"Just a good-sized plate of raw steak for me, cap'n."

Well that question was answered.

"Same for me, but with-" To be more human or animal in that moment, that was the question. "-some water, if you would."

Both slouched off to find a table then, coming to sit at the nearest one to them. It didn't take long for the food to be placed before them, but all that while they had sat in silence. It wasn't the silence that begged to be broken, but one that consisted of blatant, mutual distraction. Though Zan began to tear into the slabs of profusely bleeding meat like that's where his mind was, the slight glaze in his eyes gave away otherwise. The thoughts that hit him ranged from Lowen's captured condition to the fact that most of the group seemed to think his outburst made him some sort of anger-ridden fool. In truth, the werewolf knew, he had nothing to be ashamed of. He had spoken up where others had been too fidgety or scared or polite to. Though he harbored Senna and Hacorie no wishes of harm, his loss of the respect he had had for them and the way he had displayed it was enough for him to get the eye from near everyone in one form or another. Fuck 'em. His singular solace in the maelstrom of indecision was the fact that, more or less, people seemed to agree with his belief that what they did was rash and unwise. As for Lowen...no. Zan wouldn't allow himself to dwell on that. If he did for too long, he'd simply get up and leave the Freedom Fighters to take care of what he needed. Why he wasn't doing that now was all fear, all cowardice...and he accepted that. When the last Hub was taken down he'd be able to face that demon.

A lofted glance at Nulus as he ate, the food literally disappearing into the darkness of his hood, inducing small wisps of black smoke that filtered out into the air (something Zan didn't even want to question), he wondered what was keeping him from making jokes at the werewolf's expense. It was practically his hobby. If he had wanted to, the lycanthrope could have opened up their mental bond and taken a peak, but it would have meant opening up his own...which wasn't exactly something he wanted to do when he was flogging himself for not having the balls to go after Lowen right that instant. The flame of the Shade's emerald eyes seemed dim and distant. Was Nulus still dwelling on what it meant to be under the Wave of Darkness? Moments before he had seemed happy, truly happy at his discovery of the Wryneck Sphere...but now? Admittedly, though, Zan knew a great number of things could be going through his comrade's head right now that had absolutely nothing to do with the shift in his alignment. For a person who had been trapped for God-knows-how-long as a mindless animal filled with anger and insatiable bloodlust, Nulus had never appeared to Zan as anything off. He was a little twisted at times, a little demented, but he didn't seem to be the shattered individual Zan would have been in his place. Was that what made the Shade's eyes darken now?

Before too much consideration could be placed on the topic, however, the plain taste of Zan's water was finished and both of their plates were empty. A trick of data and everything they had eaten off of and drunken from were gone like they had never been at all. Rising to his feet, Nulus rising to his...whatever allowed him to float like that...the two made their way back to the Common Room and simply stopped. Where now? Did they go back to the almost completely vacated Meeting Room and stare at tablets that weren't going to make sense anyway? Having the third piece would be nice and then, and only then, would Zan allow himself to get a little crazy trying to solve their inherent mysteries. The various couches, chairs and beanbags strewn about were tempting, but that'd get absolutely nothing done. Was Zan tired? Really, though a good relaxing sounded splendid, he couldn't actually see himself falling asleep. The need for rest was an odd, fluctuating thing in a video game. In the real world Zan would have though his current predicament as insomnia, but it was just run-of-the-mill for his life as a Freedom Fighter. An idle, happenstance look to Chaos Gate as he continued to debate him and his partner's next action gave him his answer. It seemed a little cheesy, but just the same...

"Hey, Nulus, you've never seen Carmina Gadelica have you?"

The Shade blinked, Zan's ability to vaguely get a sense of Nulus' emotions feeding him a glimpse of surprise and slight confusion. "I...no. Of course I haven't. If you've ever gone up there with me in those cuffs, you've had your jacket over my eyes so I couldn't have seen anything anyway. Why?" He seemed almost...suspicious.

"Just come on." And a blink later Nulus was anchored in the sleek, obsidian cuffs at Zan's wrists. An emerald, flaming eye blinked at him on either wrist as he slipped his boots back on and ignored his coat.

Though the cuffs, the would-be vambraces of only a few inches would attract a little attention, it would be nothing beyond 'Ooh, a rare item.' Zan had seen more bizarre items that were official in his time in The World. With the way he was dressed, clad in black combat boots, equally dark pants and a dark green shirt, the lycanthrope seemed more likely to fit in in the streets of the real world than in a Sword and Sorcery setting. Enough people had dawned similar styles as of late, however, that he no longer had to worry about how his avatar came to look in that fashion. Plus, the cuffs themselves, the gloves he wore, the full moon necklace that hung from him, and the mass of scar tissue on the left side of his face made him look a bit more in place...if only in a 'a dragon breathed on me' sort of way. He was seconds from transporting himself to the surface when he realized - his eye. An eye that flickered between human blue and a wolf iris blazing amber was definitely not normal. Grumbling a bit, he returned to the couch and slid on the long, black leather trenchcoat and casually flipped on the hood to obscure his face. Unless he looked dead-on at someone, passerbys wouldn't be able to see the random flicker of amber from time to time. Or so was the theory. Remembering the main reason he was taking the trip up in the first place, he carefully rolled up his sleeves until the blinking green eyes had light to see once more.

"Lambda: Carmina Gadelica." The almost bored-toned command was spoken and a trio of golden rings swallowed him up soon after.

The drop into the city of lights and eternal night made him smile. Having only recently taken this place as a fort of sorts with the Freedom Fighters, Zan had never given himself the opportunity to give it the old once over. So, as his plan went, it'd give a chance for both him and his partner to enjoy the sights. Making his way to the edge of one of the small walls, something that allowed him to both hide his flickering eye (the hood assisting the peripheral accomplishment of such) and take in the calm movements of glassy black water below, Zan enjoyed a true moment of peace. Elbows relaxed on the low wall, fingers clasped together and tall frame leaned forward, he almost wished he wouldn't have to go back. He knew, in the way he always knew vaguely what his partner was feeling (though this wasn't always so if Nulus felt like shielding it from him), that the Shade was enjoying the view as well. The serenity of it as people passed behind them, a few female Long Arms giggling while still others of varying classes gossiped about BBS topics or recent accomplishments in varying events, was priceless in its own way. Though Zan did need to grab up an item or two and read the ping of a Flashmail he had gotten from Raine, that could be done later. For now he stood. And listened.

And smiled.
Lv. 50 Heavy Blade
Wishlist
Special: Levels, GR Sendai, PL Sakai, Darklore.
W: Tonosama Sword, Mineuchi, Jundachi.
A: Samurai Helm, Able Hands, Rare Greaves.
I: Holy Sap, Treebane, Cooked Bile, Nightbane.
EX: Elemental Summon (Lv. 2), Overdrive (Lv.1), Elemental Attacks (Lv. 2), Enhance Dark, Elemental Breath (Lv. 2).

User avatar
Zhao Xun
Elevated Player
Posts: 63
Joined: Fri May 12, 2006 3:09 am
Location: Wherever I'm needed.

Post by Zhao Xun » Fri Aug 03, 2007 4:04 am

I sat in the meeting room, brooding. I hadn't managed to have any success with Zan, making me useless in diplomatic matters. I'd only been able to help in the field due to the fae power, making me just as worthless as a combatant. I had been so elated when I realized that all I wanted to do in life was protect these people, my friends, my allies, but how was I to do so if I couldn't fight for them? After all, as far as I could tell, the two people who had done the most “protecting” so far were Zan and Rayo, the most powerful offensive members of the group save Nighthand and Nall. So offense was required, wasn't it?

I shook my head clear, wishing I had someone to talk to, wishing for just one person whom I wouldn't be talking to for any reason other than to have a friend. Dien.... It was amazing, I truly missed him. The first real friend I'd had in The World, and one of two who'd survived what I still considered my most harrowing ordeal, the Tower that Suraisu had led us through. And Canti... well, I could talk to him, but it wouldn't be the same. I always felt a little on edge around him, as we hadn't really kept in contact after the Tower, and I had really explained more of myself to Dien as well. Rayo was someone who shared some characteristics with me, but he knew even less about me than Canti did. I would have to explain some things to him for anything to make sense. Dien was the only one I wanted right now, the only one whom I could freely talk about myself too, and yet... he was nowhere to be found.

I had tried flashmailing him while we were in the last hub, to no avail. He'd never responded, and I had no proof he'd even received it. I hadn't had time to worry about that before, but I was certainly worried now. The lack of a life-or-death battle certainly freed up my mind somewhat, but I truly wished I was preoccupied again now. The lack of a distraction only served to feed my anxieties, letting me speculate on what terrible things could be happening to my friend. He could be dying, dead, deleted, injured, screaming in pain, captured... he could be being tortured, forced to spill information.... All the thoughts running through my mind made me sick to my stomach. It was all I could do to hide my ill comfort from the rest of the Freedom Fighters. There had to be something I could do to take my mind off things, something else I could think about....

My mind wandered back to how I would be able to protect anyone, and I'd come full circle. I clenched my fists in frustration, knowing that I was stuck between two thought patterns I simply couldn't escape from. My own inadequacies burned my mind, with me being unable to really speak to anyone about them without revealing who I was and what I had become, aside from Dien, and my thoughts of course floated over his possible predicaments for some time. Back and forth, back and forth... It's a wonder I'm still sane through all this. Need to do something... anything! I began to fidget, trying to keep control of myself, until I could do so no longer. I sprang up, needing some sort of mental release. Anything to keep my mind off my own inadequacies and the void in my heart left by Dien's absence.

I stood up shakily and walked out of the meeting room, trying to keep a hold on things until I could find a distraction. I half-walked, half-staggered into the common room, looking for whatever I could find, and saw Zan for the second time during our current stay here. My mind worked quickly, and before I really knew why, I was approaching him again, but this time, it was obvious I wasn't trying to help anyone... besides myself. I looked him in the eyes and spoke: “Zan... I need to talk. Just... talk. About anything."
.
Zan, the Shade standing beside him at just a little over seven feet in height, paused at not only the individual who stopped to talk to him...but seemed rather desperate. "Er..." That's the only thing that seemed to come to his mind, but it didn't matter. All that mattered to me right now was that he was listening. My eyes widened both in wonder and fear, knowing that Zan could help me but also fearing what would happen to me if he didn't.

"About anything. About you, about who you are, about your favorite food, about laughing at Nighthand, ANYTHING!" I almost shouted the last word, feeling less in control every second. My worries were going to eat me alive at this rate.

Zan seemed a little put off, as if something else was bothering him, but thankfully decided to try and help me anyways. "...I'm Zan. I, uh, like raw meat...and Nighthand is fun to laugh about. Oh, and the name in the real world is Conner, but if you call me that I'll kill you." His face didn't move, didn't show emotion at that last part. Was he serious? Probably. The threat didn't matter, the fact that I had something to wrap my mind around besides worry did.

"Raw meat, eh? Fits, I guess... name's Jason in the real world, though... well, it's the only real name I know. My original name is lost, but it doesn't matter now. I'm a fan of italian foods and beef, and yeah, I'd love to just laugh at Nighthand with you sometime... do you mind telling me more? I'll be sure to reciprocate, but I don't know what to ask, and... you're really helping...." My eyes fell to my feet, afraid that I'd done something to offend Zan, my superior in every way, but I also desperately still needed someone, and he was close at hand. Also, he didn't simply brush me off in the first place, so... maybe he would keep helping. With those thoughts on my mind, I stood my ground.

"I'm not really sure what else to say, kid. I..." He actually laughed, an action that made the scars on the left side of his face crease and his glacial left eye flicker to the amber of the wolf. "I was going to college to be a cook, playing the game in-between tests when the Twilight virus hit me. I didn't really want to be a cook, but I got in for free because of my friend and it was an excuse to get away from my father."

My breathing began to even out, as opposed to the harsh, quick breaths I had been taking when I first started searching for someone. My eyes returned to a more normal size, and I felt infinitely more calm than before. "A cook, eh? I never really... had an ambition. I was 16 when I started playing The World, I barely went to school for fear of the people there... I got hit by Twilight early. I guess... I guess I'm about 18 now? But in here, it doesn't really matter. And while our bodies may age normally out there... I think the mental scars we'll gain in here will cause us all to reach adulthood damn fast... or die in here." How had the topic of conversation become so morbid? I didn't know, but I still felt unbelievably calm, compared to the hysterics of a few moments ago. I looked back at Zan, wondering what the Lycan thought of me now... some crazy kid, who shouldn't be around the group in case I was to snap? I couldn't tell.

Zan shrugged at my words, as if they didn't bother him at all. "I'm at peace with that possibility. Dying here, or being deleted I should say, isn't the worst thing that can happen. Just...don't worry yourself about it." Leather, fingerless gloved hand lofted to rigidly pat my shoulder, and I finally realized the awkward situation he'd caused in my desperate search for someone, anyone really, and instantly looked to the side in shame.

"Zan, I'm sorry, I just... I thought about myself, and what I want to do, and then... I worried about Dien... my mind just kept going back and forth, and I felt like I was going to lose it again. I just needed someone to talk to."

Chuckling a bit, trying to set the mood at ease the best he could, Zan gestured about the Hideout as a whole. "Plenty people here for that. I'm not the best at it, but I'll do it if it'll keep you from going crazy in a boss fight. And hey, now you can claim you know me more than most of the Freedom Fighters now. I don't think I've even told Reinier or Dien about what I went to college for. Strange." The last word said more to himself than me, it seemed.

I cocked my head to the side in confusion, wondering what could have inspired Zan to talk to me about such... well, trivial personal matters. They had helped for sure, but it was a little amusing what the werewolf had done to help him out. "You've been a big help, Zan. I've been lost before, and I can finally remember it all. I don't want to go down that path again, and this time, I'll fight to avoid it, instead of just struggling weakly to no avail." I offered my hand to the Heavy Blade, and he shook it with just a hint of a smile.

"Well, sounds good. I'll see you around, Zhao." Hand retracted, the werewolf walked away.

I turned my back as well, and said just loud enough for Zan to hear, "If you ever care to know what I'm talking about, ask. It'll probably do me some good to let people besides Dien know anyways." I then proceeded to walk away from the Lycanthrope without awaiting any sort of reply, just as I expected Zan to continue to do.
Zhao's Profile

Wishlist:
Levels
Slayers
Other level 16+ Twin Blade Weapons
Cougar Bandanna
Snow Panther
Level 16+ Twin Blade Armor

Miakita hazu no tasogare ga
Konna ni kirei dato naita

User avatar
Senna
Awakened Player
Posts: 150
Joined: Sat Jul 01, 2006 10:28 pm

Tag Team Trouble - Rayo and Senna

Post by Senna » Fri Aug 03, 2007 9:13 pm

Stocking up was a matter of minutes – going in, SEnna knew exactly what she needed, and a lot of money later, she was the owner of yet more items she was unlikely to use given her penchant for hoarding.

She wasn’t sure who would be in the common room when she got there – she’d heard Lighteria saying something as she left, but hadn’t caught exactly what it was. Some people would be. There were some people she hoped would NOT be.

What she was not expecting was a creature. More specifically, it was a grunty. More specifically, if she recalled correctly, it was the Wavemaster’s grunty. Which perhaps explained its presence in the Hideout, but it didn’t seem to actually be WITH the Wavemaster. Puzzling.

Senna herself was not an animal person. She would be much happier if all the cats and birds and grunties and all would stay somewhere else entirely. Perhaps it was this thought, this tensing, that led to what happened next.

It looked at her, and she brought her spear up to stand between them. There was a moment where everything seemed to be in tableau – the grunty and Senna, staring one another down. And then there was that slight move – something Senna associated with overly rambunctious dogs who wanted to play – and they were both on the run.

For something that looked like a hippo to Senna, the grunty sure was a fast sonuva. All thought of seeing if it intended to be friendly was lost in the soft of mindless need to get something between them. “The hell,” She muttered, and then, as the grunty closed, she let out an angry scream and decided there was one course of action which could keep that THING away from her.

She headed for the chaos gate.

+++++++++++

Food. Play. Sleep. More food. Those thoughts cycled through her mind, much like a washing machine switching between cleaning cycles while being forced to take care of an infinite amount of clothing. Who had summoned her wasn’t important, mainly because no mystical tune beckoned her forth. It could warp her somewhere on the spot, but this wasn’t one of those times.

As often was the case, the problem lay with CC Corp, the dreaded organization that was so fond of screwing up the unscrewable. The employee that was in charge of running Mac Anu’s farm was out sick for a week, and a recently demoted administrator just so happened to be assigned feeding duty in Carmina Gadelica where the grunties were transported. What happened next was obvious to anyone who took care of small whiny children. When they were not fed, they foraged for whatever looked edible, or bore a resemblance to mud. The old man that poorly resembled the grandfather of the grim reaper was asleep, and tearing off no amount of bones had the desired effect of waking the skeleton. The secondary effect of incapacitating the only CC Corp employee on duty in the root town however, worked wonderfully.

Bell shared the archer’s code to some extent and was capable of wandering into the hideout as an experiment a little while later proved to be true. After tasting a couch, even the grunty could tell what was not exquisite cuisine. What the silver grunty sniffed a moment later after a long arm wandered in however, was much higher better. Raining Rocks dropped over a resurrect was an interesting alcoholic beverage known only to grunties, and two extremely bored and too insignificant to be named shopkeepers. Once the combination was noticed, there was only one logical thing to do. Run up there and bite that woman’s hand into submission so that feeding could commence. Senna probably didn’t see those events in the same way. In fact, neither did the newly changed archer as he watched Senna warp out of the hideout, while appearing to be pulling his very own grunty through the portal with her by the mouth. The scream the caster heard had indicated trouble, not abduction.


+++++++++++

She knew she hadn’t gotten away clean the moment the Chaos Gate took hold and started to transport the Long Arm from the Hideout to the city beyond. There was the little matter of a feeling in her trailing hand that she compared to shutting it in a car door. Not pleasant, and she felt certain, with a known source.

If she hadn’t been so angry (not scared, of course, never mind the thing was the size of a small CAR, and that it was trying to eat her hand, no, she wasn’t scared, you see, just annoyed and in pain) she might have found time to be thankful to the god of happy accidents that it had only gotten her hand.

But whatever her thoughts on her level of fortune so far in this undignified confrontation, she was now appearing in a city with a grunty latched onto one hand and no foreseeable way to rid herself of it.

Well, there was one. As the pair of them materialized, Senna raised her spear (disappointed to see the butt end was the easier to wield end at this point – not that she was wishing bloodshed, maiming and death on the thing just because it seemed determined that her hand should change ownership) and struck out twice, but the thing was tenacious, and given its hide, might not even be feeling it.

Ooooh, get OFF,” she screamed, heedless of the fact that this was no doubt entertaining for those ranged around the area where she’d appeared. At the same time, she let the spear fall through her fingers and readjusted her grip.

If the blunt end wasn’t going to do it, the sharp end would.

+++++++++++

The bowman had followed the duo immediately, trailing behind because of the lag from searching which way the pair ran. Why was Bell with Senna? Rayo had never even summoned her, what was his grunty doing at the hideout? The sight he found in front of his eyes was not what he’d expected, even with the previous rampaging through the hideout. Pounding away at Bell with the butt of her stick was bad enough, but then it was flipped around the other way. Was the long arm frustrated by Marionette more than he knew? Would the girl take it out on whatever was nearby and weaker than her? Bell might get rowdy, but the grunty had never tried to play fight with anyone outside of himself. The hulking axeman, the little girl mage… everyone else was left alone. It would be wrong for the master to simply watch his own charge be killed, so he struck first.

“Butterfly Arrow.”

His voice was quiet, but the sound carried enough that the long arm most likely registered it before a red glowing beam of light in the form of an arrow raced across the distance, hitting the blade on her spear and stopping it’s descent. Perhaps sensing the rising tension, the grunty disengaged, all three safety locks and all, before darting behind some crates. Bell would play cheerleader for now, every good fight needed one or two to root for someone while stating the obvious. Bell, who could not speak, would make the least irritating cheerleader in history.

+++++++++++

She missed the words, but it was impossible to miss the action that followed, as something pinged hard off the blade of her spear before it could contact with the grunty, setting the whole thing vibrating violently for a moment. Thankfully, whatever it had been, the grunty released her hand and ran off. For a moment, she just stared down at her bitten hand. Nevermind they were both hurting, now, thanks to whatever had deflected her attack. It was probably just as well, she would have regretted hurting the thing once the panic of its attack passed. She looked up.

Wait.

It was him, the Wavemaster… Rayo, she reminded herself. But he wasn’t carrying a staff anymore. A Bow? But he was here, and given that, her mind made a little bit of mental math on the fly. The creature was his, and it had just happened to appear in the Hideout? From what she remembered of Amber’s beast, they were generally obedient, if not that bright. Her eyes narrowed. After all the people who it turned out didn’t seem to have an issue. She hadn’t thought this one was going to be a problem, but…

You.” She was having trouble gathering coherent thoughts. All the good feeling she’d accumulated since returning to the Hideout vanished. The Archspear was in her hands, up and leveled at him as she began to advance at a quick walk. “Why? Why did you sic that… that thing on me?

+++++++++++

Senna seemed angry, he had been right after all, hadn’t he? Rayo shook his head, half in disappointment and the other half disgusted. Here she was, what should be a comrade, approaching him armed and ready for combat. Did she think he wouldn’t intervene? His grunty might only be an AI, but his journey had given him a new appreciation for them. Sekai’s other half… the angry one, was an AI as well. The same was true for Silverblade as well. This grunty was his alone and no one would strike at it, especially an ally.

“A butterfly moves only with purpose. It was your strike that forced my hand, remember that.”

The archer would have preferred to wait for a reply, but her class was capable of mid to close range combat. His own specialized in a much farther apart style of combat, and holding his ground didn’t seem intelligent. A simple green arrow was held parallel to the ground, a front for what he was actually planning. Let her assume the arrow was the only thing he was aiming, she wouldn’t be looking for anything else. If the pointed weapon wasn’t enough to stop her advance, then matters would escalate. Fortunately, this wasn’t a place that would provide unnecessary interference. No one they knew seemed to be on the street, his own unique ability was covert, while the long arm had yet to display any. This would seem like a typical brawl between players to any onlookers that approached. This wasn’t a high risk battle for survival, but now a matter of pride.

+++++++++++

It was your strike that forced my hand, remember that.

Senna momentarily faltered at that. Were they all crazy? No, not all.. but he? He’d seemed like a level-headed sort from what she knew of him. She would have expected that if what she’d done on the field, killing the Devil, was something that had really bothered him, he would have just come to her. Instead, to leave that filthy animal to attack her… no doubt so they could all have a good laugh at her expense. And then to lay it on HER, claim she brought it on herself? She’d had the right damn idea the first time. She never should have stayed with this band. Most of them were great people, but they were led by the craziest nutters she’d ever met – even, she was beginning to think, in comparison to Marionette itself.

And now he had an arrow nocked and drawn. It occurred to her that the smart thing to do would be to back down. She wasn’t a very good fighter, a fact pointed out in various ways, from tactful to blunt, by a number of people lately. She admitted it. She was terrible against mobs, worse against actual other players.

But you know what? The heck with it. At least when she was a ghost, there was no one else there.

You should have said something instead of using these underhanded tactics,” she said flatly. Then, on the heels of that, “Ani Zot.

+++++++++++

The archer just had this thought a moment ago, of thinking to strike with one move while clearly displaying the other? Then the female long arm went and did it to him instead. The bowman was caught by surprise, not having a chance to actually do much other than brace himself, and letting loose the arrow right before the spell shook his body. Without making any motion but with what he next spoke, he returned to her the clawing hands of Hell.

“Now it’s mine, Ani Zot!”

The girl hadn’t charged yet, so with a free hand he activated a speed charm before pouncing. Ap Do did more than just increase running speed; a player’s movement was improved overall and that was favorable at the moment. Let Senna get within his zone and it might very well be over. As the airborne player was about to pass directly overhead, an arrow was already notched, being released right before the zenith of his leap. The next two were fired in quick succession; the volley was aimed more or less straight down. Hopefully the angle would be unexpected. If not the direction from which he attacked, the shout ‘Phoenix Arrow’ might. The archer dropped on a low hanging roof before kicking off again to make it to the top of a slightly higher roof. From there he vaulted once more, firing four salvos instead of three while saying the same unnecessary phrase as before.

The bowman landed with his knees bent down low not so far off from where he originally started, facing the girl again. By taking the higher route on the way back, there wouldn’t be any interception until he was at about the level the player was currently at. The speed boost gave him advantage for the time being, but that could be easily negated with a simple item on her part as well. Though in a horrible position to do anything but roll, his linear way of attacking was set into place once more, an arrow waiting to be launched.


+++++++++++

As soon as she’d cast, she remembered, but it was too late – spells can’t be pulled the way physical attacks can. That slight moment of understanding was lengthened slightly by the Wav… the Archer choosing to vocally remind her of it. It wasn’t much – a second, maybe a second and a half – but it was enough time to start a roll to one side, and as a result she managed to avoid the brunt of the attack.

Unfortunately, it still hurt like anything, and the damage was mostly to her legs – how appropriate, she thought. If she were a heavy class instead of light, with the minimal magical defense that provided, she’d be feeling this a lot more now. It still wasn’t a picnic.

She’d landed on the ground, and decided to take care of her most immediate problem – not only were her legs not feeling up to carrying weight, but the bitten hand wasn’t in any mood to be holding a spear, and this was definitely not a one-hand weapon. So in the momentary aftermath of the spell, she cast a Repth. To her surprise, there was a brief respite from Rayo’s side as well. No time to wonder what he was doing, odds were good it was bad news for her. So, how to use her own abilities to at least do *some* damage before being taken out?

Ap Do.” It was her drug, and just whispering the words made her feel a little better. This was negated as almost simultaneously, she felt a line of fiery pain as an arrow dug a furrow across her upper right arm, another hissed within an inch of her cheek – only the reflex movement from the surprise and pain of the first caused it to miss - and another buried itself into one calf. It faded almost as fast as it had arrived, but the wound left was real enough. They both were. Not good.

She shifted to a crouch and looked up, aware he was moving about the same speed as she was. He’d sped himself up too? Good to know. But why was he up so high?

No matter. She held her peace a moment more, then sprang forward, like a sprinter coming out of the blocks. He fired off four more arrows and… was he shouting an attack name? It would have been absurd enough to laugh at another moment, but at the moment, she had only one thought.

Added speed heightened abilities, but had no effect on gravity. His leap off the building might have given her the edge she needed. Another arrow caught her in the shoulder and one grazed her back, but she managed to get in under the rest – the bow fell victim to the same physics as the jump. Its draw weight and tension were unaffected by its owner’s heightened ability, so he could draw it faster, but the arrows could only fly at their normal speed.

She was aiming for his landing spot. And if she got there in time to get a strike in, Ani Doom was going to get a tryout.

++++++++++++

Around half of the arrows the bowman had let loose had actually hit the targeted player, but it hadn’t been enough to put her down yet. Her defense was high enough that a few randomly placed arrows wouldn’t take her out. Oddly enough, it was no longer the old match up of physical versus magical. For once, the former wizard could give just as much as he got without resorting to magic. Unfortunately, letting her close would be a mistake regardless of his newfound abilities; the arrows only served him well at range, their offensive capabilities were taken advantage of for whittling down, not clean swipes like the long arm was capable of.

His own upward movements to stay out of her range betrayed him once the archer descended to her level again. Her groundspeed had risen, the effect of Ap Do no doubt, and the long arm had moved to strike where he would land. His arms had only reached the proper position for firing as the medium class warrior closed in, spear jutting upward from her run close to the ground. Ani Doom’s combination attack began with such a thrust, which was intended to be followed by a downward one, and finally a normal blow to end the combo. The long arm would no doubt believe her attack even more successful as it was the arm with the bow that was struck by the first move, knocking his arm straight up. The bow was still firmly grasped, but there was nothing help propel the arrow still held in the other hand. Fortunately, neither of his arms were necessary for Rayo’s counter.

His left arm whose job it was to hold the arrow level also provided perfect placement for a different tool in his arsenal, scrolls. The player’s teeth clamped down on the edge of the Green Gale and pulled on the paper, unraveling the parchment and activating the spell substitute. Logs pushed out of the ground directly underneath the long arm as her arms worked to bring down the spear for the second hit. The girl was knocked up into the air even as the second blow found a place on his shoulder to land, though it only grazed him due to the immediate ascent by the spear’s wielder. Auth aimed his arrow up towards the long arm and let go twice.


“Mole Arrow!”

Now waiting to see if the arrows struck true of not, the archer turned and darted down the street path, creating some distance between the two players again. As he went, his equipment shifted with the Thunder Torque being replaced by the Gold Necklace just long enough to use Ola Repth to recover from his wounds before shifting back, with the spell set in place on his list for further usage. The hunter waited for Senna to make her next move, take a breather or what not. The brawl was giving him a better chance to test his new skills, but neither of the players could really be said to be taking the matter seriously enough.

++++++++++++

Despite the very obviously not-wand in Rayo’s hands, the default expectation was for him to respond with magic, and in truth, despite the fact that getting hit by a second spell in less than as many minutes was not pleasant and was, in fact, dangerously damaging, she counted it as a victory to have landed even a single part of the attack. Then the world was a blur, interrupted by two strange words which only barely sank into her mind. A brief moment more, then she landed flat on her back. A more agile or aware fighter might have made a better job of it – heck, she usually would have made a bit better an effort. But she couldn’t keep from wondering, what was the use of delaying the inevitable? Hell, maybe she ought to just slink off. The only thing preventing that was it would leave the others to face a situation she’d created.

Repth.

But why WAS she fighting in the first place, when she hated battle? When she knew she was so bad at it? Groaning, she pushed herself to a sitting position, chasing the Repth with a Health Drink. From an intellectual standpoint, she knew it was stupid. So why?

Someone more aware and in tune with the visceral urges of the human psyche might have arrived at this realization before now, but Senna, honing intellect over physical ability, was a little slow on the uptake.

She’d just been spoiling for a fight. And now she had one. But as she gracefully stood again, there was one thing she wanted first. Something she needed to know.

Hey,” she addressed the Archer. “Did you seriously just shout ‘Mole Arrow’?

++++++++++++

“Yes. It’s the official name of the technique I just used against you, Mole Arrow. I’m not sure if Arrow of the Mole sounds better or not, but Mole Arrow is shorter. Extremely long technique names just seemed silly and pointless. If I’m going to announce the name of my attack, I only want the chance for my opponent to cringe, not actually react. It wouldn’t make tactical sense MeRai Don to do otherwise.”

The long arm had probably ceased listening and missed the last part as several bolts of lightning rained down where she stood. Each of their skirmishes were being broken up by healing breaks, neither truly going in for the kill. Was it time to end the matter? The pair had only been beating on each other for a few minutes, but little was actually being accomplished. Perhaps it was time to raise the bar a notch or two. Rayo stood there calmly, and began to speak his actions, as they constantly were homing in on wherever the long arm was at the moment they spoken.

“MeRai Kruz. MeRai Kruz. MeRai Kruz.”

The orbs of light by their nature crashed in towards Senna during each casting. So long as she kept moving, she’d avoid getting hit fully by any of the thunder spells, but it would be quite a challenge to escape them all.

++++++++++++

The Archer’s explanation was… well, not really an explanation. It was just a lengthy elaboration on what she already knew, that for some odd reason he’d decide that giving his attacks pet names was a good idea. Not that there was anything wrong with it, but… well, she’d just never heard of anyone doing anything like that before.

He did go on about it longer than was probably needed however. This here was one of Senna’s pet peeves. And so, she decided to grab a moment during this speech to cast a spell of her own. “Ap Corma,” she murmured. Now, if she could-

Something about his speech felt wrong. The words didn’t register for what they were, but they did register as a spell. She had wanted a fight. Abandoning herself to instinct, she started running.

Straight for the former Wavemaster.

He was occupying himself with casting more spells. The air took on a different feel, the taste of metal. She could see the casting happening, see him forming the words, but given the sudden and deafening close eruption of the spells, she couldn’t hear anything. She could guess though, fairly well.

She took nearly the full brunt of the first attack – whether by design or accident, the strike led her a little bit, and she essentially ran into it. Not good. Her mind tried to seize up. Not this again, no no no-

A back-swinging elbow connected most decidedly with her hip. The stumble this caused put her more in like for the second spell, but it also jolted her (ha!) away from a dangerous line of thought. Focusing on Rayo, switching into her water gear, Senna let loose two spells of her own. “GiRue Kruz. Rue Rom.” His spells were still crashing down, bursts of light and energy (steady…) eating away her HP.

There was nothing to do about it now but move.

++++++++++++

Senna stumbled through his series of spells with something less than elegance. Her own counter only came in the form of spells, a trick to get him into a better position for close range combat? The ice chunks from the initial spell circled in, scraping across all parts of his body, a solid hit. The Rue Rom was less fortunate, as numerous ‘miss’ messages continued to pop up on any viewing screen focusing in on the battle. Only the first spell was acquired for as blue magic, but water wasn’t a prime element against the long arm so it was worthless in it’s own right despite it’s level.

There was a better way to end this, a more practical way. Spells and arrows wouldn’t take her down anytime soon without tearing much more than the one street apart. At least that held true for offensive spells.


“The Moon!”

The archer was prepared to follow through with another if it failed but as luck would have it cartoonish Zs formed above the long arm’s head. Gutting her with arrows was an easy option for winning the fight while she was immobilized, but then she’d be all the angrier. No, the bowman sat down against a wall to the side, perhaps no more than five meters from the unconscious player. Bell was beckoned back over, the grunty sat between the two. Just in case the girl initiated another attack, there would be more than a little interference to such an attack. His own injuries were patched up with a La Repth, but other than that no other spells were cast. Senna was smart enough to realize what her being allowed to wake up meant.

++++++++++++

Everything stopped.

There was a brief moment when she realized something was happening. The next moment, she realized the world was dark, and opened her eyes to find the situation utterly unlike what it had been scant moments before. She stood stock still except her eyes, scanning the area.

And then, completely missing the Archer for the moment, she saw… it.

The grunty. The begetter of all this carnage. Senna uttered something that sounded fairly like “Gah!” and tried to simultaneously back away and bring her spear to bear. It was then she realized that the world had not simply bamfed into being this way, oh no. Her legs felt deadened, stiff, and she caught a her heel on the street, her other leg on THAT one, and was in short order sitting on the street and mentally debating between trying to run or just turning her spear on herself and having done with it. But as she looked back to the grunty again, she now saw the Archer behind it.

There wasn’t even enough anger or energy left to be angry. Just a big joke. Great. Keeping a weather eye on the grunty, she asked, “So, this a subtle way of telling me to get lost?

"You're the one who started beating on my pet, I just stepped in to protect it. Putting you to sleep immobilized you just as well as anything else."

Yeah, if you want to talk, would you mind getting it away from me? Unless it’s just waiting to attack me again? If that’s the case, let me know now. I’d rather avoid re-experiencing THAT little pleasure you so kindly provided me.

"Bell was sitting there so kindly just in case you woke up and used your spear before your mind." *dismisses Bell through the flute* "All I saw was you dragging my grunty out of the hideout, and then attack it out on the street. I'm not even sure why you brought it in there in the first place."

Why I… ah… a-hah…hah…I… brought…I… hah…” She couldn’t help it. The whole thing struck her suddenly and forcefully as completely absurd. He was accusing her of dragging a grunty out into a public place for the sole purpose of beating it with her spear? Was that what he thought? She was trying to repeat what he’d said, to make sure she’d gotten that line right, but it was just… it wasn’t funny but it WAS. She dropped her face into her hands, trying to speak but laughing too hard to get much out. “Oh, I… hah, a huh… I brought it, uh… out? Huh…ha. What you think, heh, is it? Heh. Fine, fine…Ha! Senna, attacker of the defenseless. Heh. Not… not toothless though…

"Well, I certainly haven't performed a summoning since the last field. The grunty farm Bell lives in isn't even in this root town. I'm not sure how much you've seen here, but I've started to wonder how alive the AIs are, if we can be here like this. If that's the case, then we can't look away any longer and call them purely data. For all I know, what we see of AIs could be fragments of humans trapped here before us. When I consider that, and what relationship I hold to that grunty... she's basically just a child. Isn't it also my duty to protect her, and ask questions later?"

Heh… AI… heh… has an ‘A’… for a reason… but whatever.” Her laugher was drying down to little moments now and again. “Shoulda just let it chew on me then? Assuming you honestly didn’t set it after me? Heh. Assuming… what was it he said…” she trailed off, shaking her head.

"Why would I set my grunty on you? Besides, if I was going to have Bell attack someone, I'd have the decency to let her equip the side blades.

If Bell did attack you on her own though, the root towns are going to descend into a chaos of a like that we've never before witnessed. She bites me, but only me. Or at least...did. Doesn't the grunty shop feed her? I signed her up on a weekly meal plan...grunties aren't supposed to need very much food once they're fully grown. The NPC at the shop said the special oats they carry purely for the meal plans are both cheaper and healthier than the food found out in the wild.
"

Senna just stared dumbly at him. He was willing to believe she would hold a public grunty beating for her own amusement but he wondered why she thought a beast he was supposed to control was acting at his behest. And then a dissertation on grunty diets. She was coming to decide she HATED grunties. If you wanted to get right down to it, she supposed you could claim a grunty was the reason she was here in the first place. Well, in a way.

Well great. It just wandered in and was hungry? Glad I didn’t kill it. I’ll have to go find something else helpless to beat on neh?” She got to her feet. “Sorry to make you waste the SP. It won’t happen again. Assuming your beast keeps its distance.

"Relax. We've had a misunderstanding, is it so rare? We've known each other for just a few days, we've hardly gotten used to each other yet. Truth be told, neither of us have been harmed by this little exercise either. Now, I'm going back inside before either some Knights of War soldiers show up and start working on a seal for Bell to keep her in check. You should probably come back in as well."

She considered a response as they started back, but truth be told, she was still too amused, in a weird way, to bother with a retort. She finally felt tired, at least, and now she had a new name. Senna, attacker of the defenseless.

She wondered if she could get it on a T-shirt.
Senna, level 33 Long Arm (710 HP/180 SP)
Most common kit: Ichigou, Racoon Earcaps, Air Bracer, Snow Panther, Winter Coat, Graceful Book
Spells/Skills: (Critical Hit/Death) Repulse Cage, Ap Corv, Ap Vorv, Rai Rom, Rue Zot, La Repth
Click for full equipment and items
14300 (1/23)

Raquar
Ikkitousen
Posts: 108
Joined: Tue Apr 10, 2007 8:28 pm
Location: Hiding in the shadows

Post by Raquar » Fri Aug 03, 2007 9:35 pm

He stood outside the door of the hideout, simply staring at it. Although he should probably have gone in, the couple of flashmails from Nighthand and Raine indicating that perhaps something important would be happening. It would probably take place in the meeting room, and be something of extreme and incredible importance to their next mission; something he would be taking part in. The experience of nothing else would be worth it. However, he wasn’t quite ready to coup himself up inside the meeting room just yet. This whole reveling in the shadows thing made him feel alive, and The Cultural City was the perfect place to do it in. Why not explore it completely? He began to stride slowly, nowhere in particular, just around, taking in the sights in the darkness of the night. He looked up, watching the stars. That turned out was a bad idea, as he happened to walk right into another player. He knew he should’ve been watching where he was going, and that was the reason for his quick mumbled apology. However, as he looked at this player, he noticed a sense of odd familiarity, a sense that he might have seen this person before.

”Zan wasn’t it?”

Half-way through a mumbling session to himself (or so it would seem, as Nulus was anchored in the obsidian, exposed metal of his cuffs in the form of flaming emerald eyes), Zan was forced to pause when another player haplessly ran into him. "Hey, what the fu-" He stopped. He knew this kid...as made definite by his question. "That's me."

He stood there for a moment after the man’s response, simply wondering what to say next. He wasn’t exactly comfortable asking about the information, but, it would be vital to him if he was to actually help in whatever and wherever they decided to attack next. “So . . . What exactly happened wherever it was that you guys went?”

Glancing around the Cultural City, his face hidden beneath his hood (with his left eye occasionally flickering into the amber glow of the wolf), he returned to stare at the player before him with a narrowing of his eyes. "Right, because that's totally cool to talk about in the open. Come 'ere, jackass." Attempting to snatch Raquar up by the arm and take him over to the currently unoccupied Grunty Pen, he continued. "We fought through the Hub, nothing special there. At the end we fought the Guardian, Marionette Devil. He asked us to spare his life for info, but the geniuses Senna and Hacorie just killed him. I yelled at them afterward, ripped them a few new assholes, and that's where we're at now. We got a second tablet, etc. Pretty basic run."

He was snatched off to the Grunty pen, dragged along long some sort of doll. He deserved that in hindsight, he should have been paying much more attention to his surroundings. He listened quietly and carefully to the Heavyblade’s explanation. The names didn’t ring any bells, he might have seen them, but no faces registered to names. ”So theoretically those tablets are going to tell us what to do next?”

Zan nodded, the annoyance he had displayed before now gone from his posture and his tone. "That's the prevailing theory, anyway."

The boy grunted. ”Suppose that’s all we can hope for at this point anyway. And who is this Marionette fellow? I got some sort of garbled message from him just before you guys left.”

Zan shrugged, attempting to seem casual in his response. "We think he's a master of the Hubs. He's keeping an eye on us. Has been for a while, it seems."

He grunted again, that was absolutely wonderful. Somebody that they were supposed to fight, watching them, learning about them. He sighed. ”Alright . . . Thanks for your time, I should probably start heading toward the meeting room to report in. Care to join me?”

The werewolf considered the offer, but shook his head. "Nah. I'm going to stay out for a little longer. Showing Nulus the sights. Thanks though." Giving him a half-hearted wave, Zan turned away and immersed himself back into the crowd.

Nulus? He cocked his head at the man’s retreating back. He didn’t know what exactly he meant, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. He shrugged and began to backtrack. He walked through the shadows of the streets until once more he was standing outside the hideout. He couldn’t put this off forever. Sighing, he walked in slowly. Once more there was noise in the area. The quiet hubbub of activity. He wandered back around the hallways and rooms. Meandering this way and that. Quite by accident, he found himself in what would almost appear to be a kitchen. That was strange. He hadn’t really felt hungry or thirsty, so why the need for a kitchen? He shrugged as he rifled around through the cabinets before finding a glass. He placed it under the faucet and flipped it on. He watched with a mild interest as the stream of water slowly swirled into the glass gradually reducing the empty space in it. He flipped it off when the water was approximately an inch from the top of the glass and brought it slowly to his lips before tipping it back.

The liquid slithered down his throat, it was delightful and refreshing, cooling him off a bit. It was a nice feeling, and he rested his head against the counter as he set the glass down. He took a deep breath and let out an explosive sigh. It felt good to be back somewhere where the threat of death wasn’t particularly imminent. An idea occurred to him as he flipped the faucet back. Pausing a moment, he ran his head under the water, letting the droplets run down his head. He could feel the wetness of it as it matted down his hair and the water began to roll down his brow. He flicked the faucet off and stood back up, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair. The moisture was nice and relaxing, a nice little treat after a day of work. Feeling refreshed, he turned and walked out, pushing open doors and walking through hallways until he was at last in the meeting room.
Level 28 Long Arm
Archspear, Newt Necklace, Smith's Gloves, Wyrm Scale, Kuja's Thong Dress
EXP: [700/1000]

WISHLIST
Levels
Weapons: - All
Armor: Head - Scarab Earring
Body - Nothing until Mid 30's. Ninja Garb Hand - Nothing until Mid 30's. Leg - Nothing until Mid 30's.
Items: Cooked Biles, Darkness Scrolls (Any and All)

Lord Canti
Exalted Player
Posts: 300
Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 3:58 pm
Location: In da' plains of hell, natch.

Post by Lord Canti » Sat Aug 04, 2007 7:26 pm

(Figure what's sort of going on for Canti right now. He's a fighter and he hates being stuck in The World like this, but...at the moment...things are pretty stable for him. It's just a matter of fact that while he had his ass stapled to damn game-sprite, he was helping to get something done about it. It was better not to have to bitch about it, but rather to go out...and fight. Every Hub they smashed, every plan they thwarted, was a step in the right direction. Now, this meant that they'd have to fight the actual Elites again at some point - and brother, had that done them no end of good last time - but they would manage it. Now then, he was tryin' to get some words out of Lighteria when he received a tap on the shoulder.)

"Hey man. Got time for a friendly chat?"

(Canti turns around...)

Canti: Sure, Zhao. I- Whoa...

(...and notices that his deep black pits now have competition. See, it sounded like Zhao and - despite the change in attire he seemed to have undergone - it certainly looked like Zhao, but there was a certain offness about him that was pretty much centered in the evil black eyes. There were now like...three or more guys around here with those damn things. Zhao looked completely bewildered by his reaction for a moment, then smiled.)

"Like the new outfit? I was getting tired of the old dark, all-encompassing cloak...so I did away with the black and grabbed this new gold. How's it look?"

(Canti almost seemed at a loss for words, but for the wrong reasons.)

Canti: Uhhh...fine! Yeah... That way, I can tell you and Nighthand apart now. Say, ummm...you've got a little creeping-evil in your eyes there. Might wanna look to that.

(Zhao was taken aback for a moment, then laughed it off.)

"Right, right. I'd forgotten, you're one of two people who would actually know to check my eye color for a reason besides cosmetics. It's alright, I'm still me. That problem has been sorted out. Glad you just talked to me, though. Dien punched me out last time Rikama showed up... I'm suspecting he might do something rash again. Heh."

(For all those not currently aware - which is just about everyone but Dien and maybe a couple others at this point beyond Canti - Zhao had gone through a number of personality changes back in the dark tower, owing to real-live issues that he had. Zhao apparently had several, all of whom acted differently, in which the black-eyed one was the worst of the lot, being something of a murderous madman. That this had all but dissolved now was a big shock to Canti. He was not talking to the evil guy, but the somewhat-quiet Twin Blade who was strapped into the same boat as he and Dien. Where the hell WAS Dien anyway? Ah, nevermind. This was important business here.)

Canti: Wait... You mean you DON'T have Tyler Durden in your head?!

(Has Zhao seen Fight Club?)

"Heh. Nope. Well, that's the simple answer. The long answer is a whole lot more complicated, but it really doesn't matter too much. I can't destroy him completely, because he's the original. I'm still a creation of sorts. But I have obtained complete control. No worries will come from him anymore."

(Those words were likely to confuse anyone else listening, but Canti would understand them just fine. Well, sort of. Psychology wasn't the fiery Twin Blade's strong suit, along with history...philosophy...and a number of other things.)

"How about you? How's everything? I notice you napped out on us against the Devil, neh?"

Canti: Heh. Well, unlike you, I haven't had the convenience of multiple personalities to pitch in when I'm down. I got in on some rough business the night before the Hub, which is why I sacked out at the end. Speaking of which, do you remember anything about me complaining of seeing things in the tower?

(Zhao's eyes glazed over for a second as he lost himself in the events of the tower, his head twitching ever so slightly when he hit a particularly painful moment. A moment later, they refocused on Canti and he shook his head.)

"Sorry, I wasn't really paying the strictest attention to you at the time. I was...rather preoccupied. Even with the new shared memory, I can't recall an instance like that."

Canti: Well, you work on that. As for me, I thought there was a ghost there, for a while, and then I thought I was seeing things that weren't there. Turns out, that place was being staked out, and I was receiving signals that were cross-patched in somehow. It was really freaky.

"Huh. I suppose it would be."

(Zhao was at a loss for words, wanting to be helpful to Canti but also knowing there was nothing for him to do at the moment...)

"Well...if you get any more leads, let me know? And ask me if you think I can do something."

(Fortunately, that wouldn't be necessary.)

Canti: Oh, you don't need to, man. I was about to say, uhhh... Well, don't spread this around. Apparently, her system homed in on my brainwaves in The World. It was never a hallucination, 'cause...there's someone out there, actually lookin' out for me.

(The way he was speaking of it, it sounded like Canti was already somewhat op top of matters there. This certainly seemed to pique Zhao's interest.)

"Someone's looking for you? But...why? Do you know?"

(Canti shook his head.)

Canti: Not looking for. Found. I didn't get a real name. Just a handle. I shouldn't even be saying anything. It was real off-the-records stuff. But she's there, Zhao. She's tryin' to figure out all this coma crap from her end.

"So...she's trying to help? Or does she have some sort of ulterior motive, one we'll need to be cautious about?"

Canti: So far as I know, it's not a concern like Marionette. Can't talk to anyone else here, anyhow. Something particular to me did this. And really? I think she can be trusted.

"Hmm."

(Zhao was just sort of listening right now. Canti let out a chuckle.)

Canti: Sorry, I guess it sounds kinda' out there, like nonsense. We all need a handle on the moment here and there, keep us stable while we're down here.

"Hey, it's fine. Sometimes it's good just to say things. Neh?"

Canti: Yeah... Speaking of saying things, I heard about the bit with the Devil creature. Do you think Zan might've been going a little too far on that?

"Yeah, but I understand why he said what he did. He definitely went too far, but...everyone has their own feelings here. We can't dwell on it, or it will divide us."

Canti: I think in some parts, it's already begun. Zan's a hot-head, and so am I. I'm on the side of killing enemy Hub-monsters that're like Primal. We can't let that kind of shit happen again.

(Zhao looked to the side for a moment in shame before refocusing himself on Canti.)

"I wasn' there for Primal, so I can't relate to that exact sentiment. Look, both sides of this argument have merit. I have my own thoughts, I can piece together Zan's easily enough, and I talked to Senna about hers. But I don't care what the argument is...there's no way it's as important as each one of us."

(He now wore on his face the most determined look Canti had ever seen him with, though that wasn't saying much, considering the other Twin Blade had really only seen him fail epically most of the time. Canti held up his hands in a defensive manner slowly.)

Canti: Whoa... Chill, man. I wasn't really 'there' to see this one. I understand the problem, but the question is...what's the fucking solution, huh?

(Zhao allowed his face to soften. He hadn't meant to be sharp with Canti, he was just...overly-passionate about the subject.)

"The solution is that we have to simply do our best to fight on, including people from both sides. We all need each other. Period."

(He lowered his hands, glad this wasn't escalating.)

Canti: Hey, I've been doing the teamwork thing, picking up the slack and so on. I do my part. What more can I do than that?

(The other Twin Blade let off a sigh.)

"The problem is it can't be just you, Canti. We need everyone to work together. The idea of survival is, I believe, paramount to all of us. With that in mind, with that common goal, we should all fight together. But now, there's a rift appearing. We have to heal it as quickly as possible. Perhaps...perhaps if we could get Senna and Zan to need each other..."

(Canti didn't like the sound of that idea at all. You can't just make someone act the way you want. The usual thing that happens with that sort of thing is that the two people involved get off worse somehow.)

Cani: That's a dangerous game to play during a mission. Trying to influence events to make them work together? I like Senna, and I respect Zan somewhat 'cause he's alot like me. This is the kind of thing that could blow up in all our faces badly.

"Yeah, it would be hard, and it could end badly. But what if this truly gets worse? All I know is Zan spoke maybe ten words to me when I mentioned Senna and Hacorie to him. What if we lose Zan over this? That's a huge amount of fighting strength, gone. And what if Senna or Hacorie, or even both of them were to leave? That would be a terrible loss as well."

Canti: They won't leave. I'm pretty sure those two will weather the storm on this. The problem is Zan. It's like I said. Zan's a hot-head, like me. An' that means he's unreasonable. Honestly, he worries me. There's just something I can't place...

"What're you trying to say?"

(The problems with Senna and Zan were instantly forgotten as it appeared Canti was suggesting something about Zan being...less than on the up and up.)

Canti: Nothin' I can put my finger on, but...you watch a guy at work long enoough and you get an idea of how he operates. I thought that it might've just been about the viral business, the change in his infections, but...I dunno. It's something I've picked up. Something's just...changed.

"I have complete confidence in Zan. Everyone changes, Canti. I did, after all, it's just that my change was obvious, and will only become moreso. This is just paranoia, man. Zan's a hard and fast ally. If he's keeping something under the table, it's for the good of us all."

(No, that's not what he meant. Dammit...)

Canti: Zhao... No, you don't get it. Take a word from the master of personal disaster. I'm a wreck and I've got fucking issues. If I can't spot another guy goin' about as bad as I was, then who can? This is a bad change, man. Trust me when I say we've got some bad brew on the rise.

"Canti. If you believe for one second your issues were more serious than mine...you're a fool. I haven't told you everything, but if you want to know, I'll be glad to enlighten you. But I'd really rather you would have faith in me...and in him."

Canti: Hey, I'm not saying anything about trust. I only say what I feel. I don't doubt a word you've said, and maybe I'll never hold a candle to ya on the whole psychosis issue, but I'm not trying to one-up ya. Just answer this... Do you think Zan trusts us?

(The answer came without hesitation.)

"Yes. He trusts us. Maybe he thinks some of us are stupid, but he trusts us to have his back, and he has ours."

(How could he forget? Zhao was one of the guys he reemed the hell out of in the beginning of their little adventure.)

Canti: Hope that's all it is... If you find something else out, any indication that there's something else up, let me know. I won't do anything to him, but this is the sort of thing that Nall and Nighthand should know. I'll leave it be for now. It's only a feeling...

"I understand, Canti. If I notice anything...I'll let you know. You might be smarter than me, after all. Heh..."

(He gave the other Twin Blade a sharp glare for that.)

Canti: Hey, what part of 'not one-upping you' didn't you get? Just because people say I'm full of wit and wisdom doesn't make me a wiseman. I'm just doing what I can.

(Actually, it was Senna who said that to him. It kinda' surprised him at the time. Zhao laughed.)

"Sorry. Didn't mean to offend. I'm being serious. After all..."

(He paused for a moment, and looked directly into Canti's eyes.)

"We're pals, aren't we?"

(There was something odd about that look, but Canti sort of brushed it off and smirked at the other Twin Blade.)

Canti: Sure, man. It's us against The World.

(You could almost hear the rimshot...)
I'll have a doozy of a sig later, I swear. It'll reflect ".hack//CODE" an' everything.

Hey look! A profile! It's got items and stats and things! Cool! If it isn't fully up to date, it will be, so don't worry 'bout it.

Hacorie
Ikkitousen
Posts: 105
Joined: Thu Sep 30, 2004 11:30 pm
Location: Here and there.
Contact:

Post by Hacorie » Sun Aug 05, 2007 6:50 am

The doors of the training room flew open as the Heavy Blade exited with a new bond with the item he held between his fingers. Thinking back to the fun battle he just engaged in, the character smiled and bowed to the lady named Raine. “Thank you for the fun experience. It really helped us.” Brushing one hand through his long shaggy hair, the Heavy Blade turned and began walking toward the meeting room: still refreshed from the enjoyable fighting. It was as if all his cares from earlier disappeared in the middle of fighting. Maybe Hacorie only felt at home when his blood was pumping and his sword was swinging. However, now that he was back within the Hideout, the character only felt the depressing memories coming back to his mind. His talk with Nighthand, his anger for Zan, and his defiance of the will of the majority. Am I beginning to second guess myself? Why? What I did was right and I will stick to it. Dwelling on these thoughts have no effect on our future. What’s done is done... Even though this is the thought that Hacorie seemed to keep telling himself, it did not stop his mind from reveling in the past. He wanted to figure out more possible scenarios of the boss fight; he wanted to know if his choice was truly the most righteous.

Time after time, scene after scene. Hacorie played them over and over trying to figure out the other’s standpoints, but he just could not understand why they became so upset over the death of an enemy who threatened their lives. Flashing back to the event once more, Hacorie watched the battle play out. Spear and sword, these were the reasons of the groups current split. “Maybe I am being a bit too self centered. Instead of trying to figure out if what I did was correct, maybe I should converse with my ‘partner in crime’. She has a leveler head than myself, so maybe, just maybe she can offer me a bit of advice, but then again...If I am having this hard of a time, I wonder how she has been taking the entire action. After all, I am use to all of these feelings, but is she?” He questioned himself aloud as he began to quickly compose a Flashmail to his many a time special event partner: Senna. Looking about within the silly hideout beneath the real city, Hacorie finally found the Chaos Gate once again. There, he threw his hand in the air and spoke aloud his destination. “Mac Anu...” as the three golden rings began to descend upon him, the player sent the Flashmail.

Flashmail
To: Senna
From: Hacorie
Hey Senna....we have not talked at all since we have returned from the second hub. Meet me in the Aqua Capital of Mac Anu at the dividing bridge.

End Flashmail


Entering in the trademark way to any point in the entire game, the Heavy Blade smiled; he was finally back to the place where it all began. This was not the access city Hacorie had been infected with Twilight, but instead it was his starting point in The World. This bustling town was home to new players entering for the first time as well as old ones just wishing to reminisce. It was unbelievable how the city had only changed a small amount. With the sun gleaming down upon his body and giving him an almost godly feel of rejuvenation, the Heavy Blade picked up one of his feet and began to walk toward the location he described to the lady Long Arm. This bridge was the connecter of the two large city blocks, it acted as a mediator between the two sides for without it, the city would be in shambles. Underneath the bridge laid a river of infinite flow. It never stopped or froze since the weather in the city was always the most fair. Reaching the wooden arch, the Heavy Blade posted himself upon the peak on the right most side. Looking over the railing, he noticed his reflection swaying upon the current.

Peaceful feelings...

Momentarily after arriving, at the location a return Flashmail from the receiver hit the Heavy Blade’s inbox with only one word contained within it. “That girl is so very simple.” Hacorie said as he continued to look into the river watching the reflected clouds begin to soar by. As the white and wavy puffs met concrete or wood, they were no longer seen by the character’s eyes, but sometimes the flow of the clouds was interrupted by a certain object which floated about the water: a gondola. Before he could decide whether or not to hop into one of these floating bananas, Hacorie noticed a separate reflection moving closer from his right. Noticing the crimson hair in the mirrored water below, Hacorie began to speak, "Hey...glad you came." Even though he did not look up to see if he had the correct character, he knew Senna when he ‘saw’ her. After all, not many characters chose a deep red hair color; if they did, Hac had just not met many.

“I wouldn't miss it. Never hurts to see a friendly face huh? What's up?" The Long Arm replied as she propped her body against the railing with back to the water. The girl was a strange one indeed; she had her own agenda, but always had time to talk to anyone who needed to. It was as if she was the team mascot of the Freedom Fighters. Though, after the most recent and despicable action she had taken...the mascot idea would most likely not hold true at all.

"Ah, just been pondering...since we have returned, it seems as if I am doing more than normal haha." Hacorie responded while trying to make a comic joke out of what he was really doing. For some reason, he felt that Senna already knew the reason he had called her to the city, but he would wait til later to mention the activities the two did at the second hub. Waiting for her to reply to his statement, Hacorie just continued to stare down into the water, hoping the answer to his question would just pop out at him. Hopefully not in the form of a fish...I hate fish. With the morale boosting though, a new question arose: did fish live in the river of Mac Anu? Were there even non-monster fish in The World? Both were brilliant questions that would probably never be answered.

Senna raised an eyebrow. "Getting rest too, I hope? Not gonna fall asleep in the next field. More than normal?." What a funny response the girl gave to Hacorie’s question. She seemed very concerned about his well being; could she actually be thinking the same thing as Hac? Were they both worried about one another after the hub incident? Great minds do think alike after all... Listening to his own thoughts mix with memories, the character was taken back to the old cartoon commercials where the Genie from Aladdin would appear and say such as “Great minds think for themselves.” Even though the two statements were the exact opposites, they both held true in a paradoxical way; the world works in humourous ways.

"Ahh my 'rest' seemed to be more of an adventure than a dungeon run," Hac began, but decided he should keep the world in his dreams as a secret for now. Senna was one of the only people he was on good terms with so if she dictated he needed to be sent to an asylum, who knows what would end up happening to the Heavy Blade "Well, I just cannot see how the others wanted to let it live. I have stretched my boundaries of thought to encompass many different scenarios, but I still say killing it was the only obvious choice we could have picked." The bomb was dropped hastily and most likely to the surprise of Senna since Hac’s mood and tone turned from a hint of enjoyment to confusion and wonderment.

Senna seemed about to comment on the first part of this, but kept her silence until he finished speaking. Another few seconds passed as she considered his words, then she said, "Perhaps. Either choice held risk, hmm? I guess we just have to hope we picked the right risk.” What an odd choice of words the woman had. They seemed to be just the needed ones, but they were depicted in a strange manner. The ‘right risk’? Could that really be a possibility? Instead of questioning her words of comfort aloud, the Heavy Blade decided to try a bit of comic relief to liven up the serious tone the two were conversing in.

"Hope is overrated, you know that right?" Hacorie said while trying to withhold his laugh. As his minor chuckling subsided, he started once more, "Morons..." Hacorie whispered. "You know, that word is still stuck in my head, but I do not believe that simple word applies to us, do you?." Clenching his fists in hatred, Hac’s breathing became increasingly louder for a moment until the sensation passed. He hated of thinking back to that moment when the werewolf went Mt. Saint Helens on the two, but for some reason he could not let it go.

"I don't know," she answered, sounding tired. "I don't think we're in any position to know now whether it does or not. I'd feel less bothered if I felt sure Zan'd ask OUR permission before he decided to make some decision affecting all of us that we might disagree with. But he's too instinctive. I think..." she trailed off and shook her head.

"Well we made our choice and he made his. I just hope I get to knock the shit out of him here soon...I can already picture it...haha. Maybe if you are lucky I will bring the body back and let you place the head on your spear." Hac said now completely smiling. Though he was joking about the last part, the thought still gave off a great sense of joy. However, his smile soon was relinquished back to a mundane look as saw Senna’s reflection in the water.

Senna was frowning. "Are you sure it's worth it?" she asked. "I mean... letting him get your back up this much. He irritated me, but it doesn't really... he doesn't matter, I don't think. And getting this angry, I'm not sure it's... it's good."

"Senna...thanks for the words of wisdom, but I am afraid...this is one type of anger in which I cannot just let pass. Especially since the jerk would not even talk to me when we got back. He tried to get under my skin...and it worked. He has a really large head, which needs to be deflated; I feel I am the one who needs to knock him back into his place. Though, I also want to fight him...because...he seems like a real challenge for me." The Heavy Blade said as he tilted his head up into the sky, watching the clouds pass by. "Maybe he and I are more alike then I would like to believe..." Hacorie could not believe the words that had been uttered from his mouth. Did he really just confess that Zan and he may have things in common? Could it be a love to fight, or an instinctive nature as Senna had previously mentioned? Truthfully though, Hacorie let Zan get to him because he was a skilled opponent. One who could be admirable to face Hacorie in a duel, but the anger which was now present between the two could turn either the duel into a hack and slash battle or the most gory and vivacious fight ever witnessed by The World.

"That could be." She gave a wry half-smile. "If you're sure, I won't stop you. But promise you'll try to keep your head. If he's getting under your skin, like you say... well, it's something to keep in mind. Okay? I know it sounds stupid, but..." Before she could finish her statement, Hacorie interrupted the Long Arm for he knew how the sentence would be finished.

"Aye, I understand. I think in the midst of battle, I am calmer anyway...and it's not stupid Senna...it's good advice." Turning to face her for the first time of the conversation, Hac brought up two fingers on his right hand forming a 'V' shape: the index and middle fingers. "Go Team Moron?" With a bright smile now illuminating his personality, Hacorie waited to see Senna's response to his 'childish antics'.

She laughed. "Go team Moron indeed. On the bright side... I don't know who you've talked to, but it seems the only one who has an... ongoing problem with what we did was Zan and... and maybe Rayo. I"m not... not quite sure. But hey, anything happens, I got your back, hmm?" Even though he had trusted the character before, Hacorie could now claim he had at least one ally in the group of players known as the Freedom Fighters.

"All right, well I have your back as well...but that should not have to be said. By the way, you looked tired when this conversation started. Go rest up, we need to be prepared for anything, okay?" Hacorie said with a smile still residing upon his face.

"Will do. Though, are you heading back now too?" She questioned him, wondering if he would heed his own words of advice.

"No, I am going to stay here a while longer...I'll head back later..."Hacorie replied as he shifted his glance back into the shallow depths of the river. The sound of the trickling water set him at ease.

She frowned and looked off over the water a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Take care. See you later. And be sure to get some rest yourself, okay?"

"I told you, I have already rested....I am in peak physical condition, do not worry. I have to make sure I am 100%...just in case..."Even though the words were not meant to be in an annoyed tone, the Heavy Blade began to dwell on the fact. Listening to the words come from his mouth, he felt like he had not gave the Long Arm enough credit. She had been the one who agreed to come all the way in harms way just for a chance to talk; she truly was a great friend.

"Okay." A wave, and she left, heading for the Chaos Gate. As her character appearance disappeared in a flash of gold, Hacorie sent one more Flashmail.

Flashmail
To: Senna
From: Hacorie

I do not know if I said it, but...thanks. Go Team MORON!

End Flashmail


Left all alone in the deponent and seemingly deserted city, Hacorie shifted glances to his left and right. It was strange how no one was in sight, but he did not really complain about the empty city at all; he liked it better this way. Another smirk slowly crept across his face as the wooden boat began to creep ever nearer. Jumping the railing at the last second, the Heavy Blade was caught by gravity and forced unto the gondola. Leaning back and using the flat floor as a place to lay, the character once again looked up into the sky.

How peaceful this is...Why can’t everyday feel as good as this?
Hacorie
Level 36 Heavy Blade
Gold: 21237

Equips
Oceanic Aura/Sharktooth-Ice Helm-Winter Coat-
Shiva's Rings-Bondage Pants
---Water Magic, BL Yokohama

Wishlist:
Level Meh Up
Weapons: Sakabatou/Rock n Roll/Peace Blade
Body: Knight's Armor
Other: Earthlore/Feng Shui
--------Water/Earth Scrolls

Rayo
Exalted Player
Posts: 485
Joined: Wed Apr 09, 2003 7:21 pm

Post by Rayo » Sun Aug 05, 2007 10:48 pm

The pages of the book continued to be flipped, each no more useful than the one immediately prior to it. When researching something specific in a book with no index, a substantial amount of time was wasted filtering through what was unwanted. The Thunder Magic was full of plenty of lightning based knowledge, but Thunder Grunty was rather specific. More exactly, establishing a seal to halt the flow of energy through the above mentioned creature was hidden away rather well, page 304 paragraphs B through D.

There were three key components to establishing and maintaining such a spell. Strength, element, form. The initial power backing the enchantment was important just to get it in place. Once the necessary chants took place, the spell only required one of the ritual items to still exist within the same field or town for the effect to be considered active. If at any point none of the tools used for the activation were within that sphere of being, then the enchantment became temporarily inactive until such time that one of them fulfilled the requirement once more. Secondly, all of the tools used for the seal needed to have a lightning affinity. If any of the other elements associated with it even equaled the influence, much less exceed and overpower it, the ritual would fail. The final piece mattered for how many items were used. The items needed to be placed around the Thunder Grunty, and then number of sides formed by surrounding artifacts affected how powerful the actual seal was. Chalk was used to help create a physical bond between all of the residing Thunder items.

With items like the Great Elite and two Thunderbolt scrolls, power wouldn’t be an issue. Since one of the most powerful three included wouldn’t ever disappear through use, the continual use of the spell wouldn’t vanish. There were sixteen items in the archer’s inventory that had a strong relationship with Lanceor, so the second category was also covered. A hexadecagon was formed with the Great Elites, Wand of Storms, both Thunderbolts, five Ion Strikes, five more Sports Drinks, a Thunder Anklet, and a Storm Bracer as well. Two more pieces of the former caster’s equipment fit the bill, but it would not due for his Thunder stat to drop below 10 during the ceremony. Lightbanes didn’t work either, since their function was to reduce the presence of Thunder and would have been as intrusive as darkness based goods.


“Within the light of Lanceor, the observer of this pact, the word to be shall be POOF!”

A twin set of golden bells with clouds gracing the sides of the musical devices dropped directly outside of the hexadecagon. If one jingled the bell and spoke the word ‘poof’, then the Silver Grunty of Thunder, AKA Bell, would be teleported back to the grunty farm. The tools indirectly worked through a spiritual connection to the Grunty Flute, simply linking into the ‘dismiss’ command.

The main problem was the mess and clutter. The archer quickly gathered back up all of the devices used for the ritual, storing them back away. For Bell, Rayo simply rang the miniature Bell and spoke the word to clear his grunty off of the table. That was right, a table in the middle of the kitchen was the staging ground for his ceremony.

Rayo simply moved to the meeting room and waited for the group’s departure. There was no other business for him to take care of.
Rayo
Lv.47 Archer 745HP/311SP
Bell, the Silver Grunty of Thunder
Skills/Spells-Shocking Arrow of Voltage(30), Arrow of the Burning Stars(10), MeRai Rom(40), Rai Kruz(10), La Repth(20), Rip Maen(40), MeRai Kruz(20), GiVak Kruz(20), MeRai Don(20), Rig Saem(15)
Weapon/Armor/Book-Golden Royal Bow/Thunder Torque, Thunder Cloak, Able Ring, Ivory Greaves/Thunder Magic
Wishlist: YL Fukuoka, Stormlore, Winter Stone, Silver Grunty

User avatar
Nighthand
Master of Games
Posts: 1265
Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
Class: Bladesmage
Location: ...Tracking...please wait...

Post by Nighthand » Mon Aug 06, 2007 5:25 am

The atmosphere in the hideout was tense, to say the least. Everyone, it seemed, was scheming with someone else. Coming up with plans and backup plans, alliances and scenario responses. It was like a well-oiled machine of tactical preparation, except, not everyone was working together. Factions were developing. Factions amongst the freedom fighters that could lead to dire consequences when least expected.

Still, factions, even with mutual animosity, could still work together against a common enemy. Cells of players would join together in each other’s defense, even if they didn’t so much care about what happened to certain other members of the group. Of course, some stayed out of the drama. Some played the lone wolf, neutral, or at the very least trying to remain uninvolved. Nighthand, at least, was one of those. He watched the odd pairings develop as people left and returned through the gate with an indifferent eye. His first, foremost, and potentially only priority was the success of the group as a whole. Whether or not that would mean, eventually, leaving a few behind… well, that was a problem he would face when it came to it.

For the moment, it seemed that everyone was off on their own personal betterment trips. Groups in rapid succession were using the training room nearly the whole time of their rest period, and whoever wasn’t there was alternately asleep, or off on some other field or town, working to better themselves. Nighthand himself, however, simply rested. He had no need to improve his power, not yet. The rest of the group, the majority at least, was slowly catching up… and that was good. He didn’t want to be the sole power figure, next to Nall’s ultra-powerful Twilight-fueled abilities. Rayo was getting close, closer than anyone, though he had lost some progress switching his class as he had. Interesting, that. Who would have thought the penultimate mage of the group would shift to another class?

At the dawn of the next day, Nighthand was up and ready, preparing for their latest excursion. Everyone seemed to have completed whatever added practice they had wanted to get down, formed what alliances and decisions they had wanted to, and were ready to go. Though he half-expected new people to show up in time for their latest dungeon crawl, he instead found they were lacking a member. Finding Raine, he asked about it.

”Raine, have you seen Nall about? I wanted to talk to him about the final Hub.”

”Yes, actually… I sent him off on a mission of his own. I was always the one who found the leads and told him where to go back before there was such a large group working with him… Sometimes he gets a little frazzled by all of you and wants to do something on his own. As dull as he can be sometimes, he can at least take care of himself, so I sent him investigating some leads I got from the hubs. Nothing yet is concrete enough to send all of you to, but it can’t hurt to have him off doing something useful rather than fuming and killing random monsters somewhere.”

It was true… in the last hub, Nall hadn’t been of much use. The same went for the prior one. His sight had somehow been blocked by Marionette, or so he had claimed; something about shifting data that never allowed him a true reading of what was going on. That was why the bosses had been so unexpected on every front. The last one he had even fallen into a trap, albeit to save the rest of them from it, but it still had to irk him that he had been caught so easily.

Nodding, Nighthand decided that they might as well head out. Everyone else was prepared and ready, no reason for him to stall any further.

Flashmail!
To: The Freedom Fighters
From: Nighthand
RE: The Final Hub

Alright guys, now that everyone is rested, we might as well head out. Nall won’t be joining us, as he’s off investigating some things for Raine, so no need to worry about him. Gather by the chaos gate, we’ll leave as soon as everyone is there.
End Flashmail!


Sending the Flashmail on its way, he headed for the gate room. It didn’t take long for everyone to gather, and a moment later they were off. Off to place the yellow crystal bomb that Sheena had given him. Off to combat Marionette Angel.

Off to Lambda: Muted Illusionary Code.

---------On The Field--------

The triplet rings descended and their first vision of the field was a dull one. While Sheena, before they had gone to any of the fields, had told them what she had found, nothing was the same. Though the data for the field still called it a level 28 Earth field, what lay before them was more like a Juk field than anything else.

They had appeared in a clearing in a forest, where a tree long ago had fallen and knocked over two others. The rotting trunks lay half-buried on three sides of a square around them. The direction that wasn’t ‘barred’ by a fallen tree led up a hill a short distance.

The forest around them was alive with sounds. The sky above was lit by a crescent moon, stars glimmering high overhead in the natural constellations of late spring. The sounds that came from all around were those of the typical sort of night insects, various buzzing and chirping noises. Moonlight filtered through the trees, but only enough to barely light the interior of the forest. The only clearly lit area was the cleared path before them, the one that led uphill.

What it led to was astonishing. It was nothing at all like something they would normally find in a field. Nor, really, was it fitting for any root town save perhaps Omega, or maybe Lambda’s. A mansion, a literal mansion, sat up on the hill. It was surrounded by trees on all sides, and even most of the front was obscured by a more carefully manicured courtyard. As the group approached, they could see light coming from the various windows. Nothing really detailed could be seen through them, at least not from their distance.

Only their continued approach brought the first obstacle to their path into light. Growing close to the mansion, they could finally see what Sheena had mentioned in her Flashmail. A wall several meters high and topped with vicious-looking spikes stood before them. It was plainly too thick for them to hope to break through, despite the considerably physical might they could levy against it. No, their only entrance would be the large gate set in front of them. It was barred, like Sheena had said, and she hadn’t stuck around long enough to break into the courtyard.

However, it looked like they were expected. As they grew closer, the bar abruptly slid aside, and the gate creaked open.

Drawing his sword, Nighthand cautiously entered the courtyard. It was, essentially, a walled-in section of the forest, slightly more carefully trimmed. At least, there were fewer dead branches and weeds littering the ground. Ever on guard, especially since they hadn’t been attacked yet, the group progressed across the short expanse and came upon heavy wooden doors. These, too, were barred, and here too the bar slide aside of its own volition. It appeared they were to enter the mansion with a minimum of fuss.

Swinging open the door revealed several things at once. First, they were not under any sort of attack, at least not yet. Second, the mansion was owned by someone who really, really liked money, however digital it may be. Third, this owner had no qualms about sitting in the lobby and waiting for her guests to arrive.

The room was high-ceilinged, a massive crystal and gold chandelier hanging in the center and casting a superb amount of light on the room. Walls were painted gold and bordered with hardwood and black paint. Paintings, wall hangings, and other works of art were spaced around the room, many of them replicas of priceless artifacts from the outside world. Furniture that looked very, very expensive, made of varied red and black silks, satins, and velvets, lined walls and sat here and there. The floor was of black marble, with the occasional rug or carpet of red. A single oaken table, large enough to seat four, sat in the middle of the room, against the back wall. Just enough space was left behind it for the room’s single occupant in her lone chair.

She wore a body suit of checkered black and white. Her feet were clad in boots laced halfway to the knees, black leather with white lines along them. Her sleeves were pure white, lacking the black diamonds of the rest of the suit. Her left hand was gloved with black leather, a white circle on the back of it. The other arm was… different. A series of metal panels lay flat against the arm itself, with black rings above and below them. The hand itself wasn’t gloved, but rather made of a black metallic-looking substance. Nevertheless, it appeared to move as well as any other hand, as she shifter her hands and lay them across one another.

Around her neck was a thick black scarf that trailed to the floor and lay in two puddles of fabric. Above it was a female face, skin as pale as snow, with black-coated lips. A pair of simple silver earrings hung, one from each ear. Piercing blue-green eyes looked out over yellow-tinted sunglasses, both in the slight shadow of what appeared to be a bowler hat. Hints of short blond hair stuck out from the back sides of the hat.

As soon as the group was all in the room, the door closed behind them. Whether or not it was locked as a question for later, as the woman began to speak.

”You must be the ones Master told me about. Welcome to my mansion. I am Angel, your hostess for this evening. You may put your weapons away; while you are no doubt here to kill me, I am not here in this room with you. This is simply an image of me, here to greet you.

I am a woman of business, commerce, and sophistication. I do not wish to see my mansion trashed in your efforts to find me, though I will not tell you where I am. I will be watching you, and any damage you do to my belongings will be paid for, if I have to extract the payment from you myself. Keep this in mind.

You are free to converse with me in this image, non-violently. Some questions, however, may require payment for their answers. As I said, I am a woman of business. If you don’t desire talk, you are free to explore my mansion; at least, the first floor of it. You will find the doors to the stairs locked. Also, you are free to leave at any time.

I suggest you follow my guidelines. My prices are quite high.”


She fell silent, though she sat still in her position. No doubt she was watching from any number of vantage points, regardless of physical position. Her real form would be elsewhere in the mansion.

Putting his blade away, at least for the time being, Nighthand wandered around the room. He examined the art, looking for clues, or perhaps traps, or really anything that there was to be found. There was only one exit from the room, aside from the door that led back outside; it plainly would lead into deeper parts of the mansion.

Where would they go from here?

--------------------------ooc:

Feel free to script with me for Angel. Just IM me and we can work it out. Her color, for reference, is color=#218868.

The Hallways of the mansion are the same black marble as the floor, the same gold paint as the walls, and the same red carpet along the halls. Lanterns light the way, one burning on either side of the wall every few feet.

Room 6 is, for the moment, locked. The other rooms you’re free to enter (they’re numbered with small gold plaques next to them for reference in character). You can then either wait for me to post telling you what’s inside or you can ask me directly over IM or PM.

The Floorplan: Image

Angel: (Note, the metal turbine blade looking things are flat against her arm instead of sticking out, and the sword-thing is nowhere to be found.)
Image

User avatar
Marionette
Elevated Player
Posts: 29
Joined: Sun Sep 03, 2006 4:24 pm

Post by Marionette » Mon Aug 06, 2007 5:46 am

Flashmails

To: Nighthand
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
beinG contenT iS A virtuE, buT iS iT onE yoU caN afforD?

To: Senna
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU ploT againsT onE oF youR owN. iS therE A traitoR iN youR midsT?

To: Rayo
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
A changE iN skiN, buT arE yoU thE samE despitE iT? caN yoU escapE youR pasT?

To: Silk
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU speaK kinD wordS tO mY minioN. whaT waS hE tO yoU?

To: Zan
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
thE timE comeS sooN foR yoU tO upholD ouR deaL.

To: Phoenix
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
restrainT iS admirablE. wilL yoU displaY iT oncE morE?

To: Zhao Xun
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
youR troubleS seeM tO havE departeD, buT wilL yoU eveR trulY bE riD oF hiM?

To: Lighteria
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
youR minD iS bacK tO itS placE. whaT wilL yoU dO witH iT?

To: Hacorie
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU feeL yoU knoW thE traitoR iN youR midsT. dO yoU darE acT oN thiS, oR doeS thaT makE yoU thE onE yoU suspecT?

To: Canti
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU worrY abouT yourselF, buT arE therE biggeR thingS tO thinK abouT?

To: Reinier
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU maY noT remembeR mE, buT I knoW whO yoU arE. yoU regaiN youR innocencE, buT iS iT tO bE takeN awaY oncE morE?

To: Sekai
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU feaR thE darK, buT thiS feaR crippleS yoU. whaT iS iT thaT yoU trulY feaR?

To: Raquar
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
youR patH seemS cleareR thaN eveR beforE, buT youR poweR comeS witH A pricE. wilL thosE nearesT tO yoU shY awaY?
whaT happenS wheN thE puppeT pullS thE stringS?

Zan
Exalted Player
Posts: 206
Joined: Sat Jan 22, 2005 10:28 pm
Contact:

Post by Zan » Mon Aug 06, 2007 9:39 am

[EDIT] Equipping the Wryneck Ex-Sphere to Nulus.

The trip around Carmina Gadelica, one briefly interrupted by Raquar (a conversation that proved to be not wholly unpleasant), turned out to be well worth the excursion. The clamber of people around the glow of phosphorescent light and various shops almost made one forget the texture that had been programmed into the backgrounds. As if the Root Town was only an island in comparison to the real beauties abound, several builds, windows aglow, lay off in the distance. It made Zan feel like he was back in the real world, back where the urban sounds of daily life became like white noise to his ears. The Lycan half expected to hear the blare of a car horn or the random pop of a gun in the darkness. When all he received was the idle chit chat of the masses, the disappointment was nothing compared to his continued mirth. Something about the Cultural City's atmosphere, the commerce midnight of a bustling town, just put him at ease. The fact that he had associated it with his home, with New York, made Nulus want to visit. Any attempts Zan made at convincing him he couldn't exist in the real world were turned down. After all, if he had hardwired himself onto the Heavy Blade's brain here, what was to stop that from being true when Zan's coma was lifted? After all, hadn't Twilight already done a number on his neural chemistry as it was?

All thoughts on the matter were dismissed as the two, Nulus still anchored in the cuffs, made their way back to the Chaos Gate. Zan was sad to have to go, but he knew time to move would arrive soon enough. Though the group had hardly arrived, the energy to move on was jacked up like a stereo on full blast. The Freedom Fighters wanted to be done with this Hub business. If they were anything like Zan, they wanted to get a real shot at the Elites, something that would cripple them beyond the hindrance of a few Flashmails not hitting their target. Words spoken, the lycanthrope back at the Hideout a second later, he wasn't one to lack appreciation for disabled communications. As handy as it could be, as important as it may have been, it just didn't feel like it. It was because of this that his enthusiasm had waned since Primal. The rest of party seemed to be losing their drive as well. Morale wasn't high, but it was also because of this drain that their determination to end this grouped set of adventures. Sure, Zan could very well be making these observations up in his head, but that didn't necessarily made them less valid. Entrance into the sanctum brought Nulus' release from his prison and the Shade's appearance next to him, the duo drifting in with different degrees of grace (Zan's slightly animal while his partner's leaned towards 'alien' with his levitation). Any conversations that proceeded did so, but time eventually found the two down in the Training Room.

Had to get some exercise in before they left, neh?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nighthand's Flashmail not too long after Zan's exit from the Training Room confirmed his suspicions about the new pace the group had set. So be it. The group, one by one, found themselves around the Chaos Gate and again, one bye one, disappeared under the fall of three golden rings. The field it dispensed them on wasn't one the Lycanthrope was expecting, especially after the last one they had visited. The forest theme seemed to be overlapping too much for Zan's tastes, but he didn't give too much thought on it. Rather, like the predator he was, he flared his senses around him like a network of stimuli fingers, trying to intake any hint of danger that there might be. All he was rewarded for his efforts was the rather pleasant small of a good concentration of nature's best and the smell of something out of place beyond. Not just wood, but wood that had seen construction. Then there was the metal. The image of a house had constructed itself in his head before the group had even made their way over the mass of the hill to view the mansion beyond. Nulus, gliding next to him, had his blade-like claws mincing slowly at the air, growing edgy with anxiety. Connected to him as he was and prone to similar reactions, Zan's Ghostdancer was pulled from the digital ether to hang strongly out to his side. Stepping to be as close to the head of the group as Nighthand or any other stubborn individuals would let him, the Lycan prepared to take the brunt of any sudden assault. Some might see it as an arrogant show, but it was his way of trying to help. If he was going to be a Heavy class, he may as well be a proper tank.

And, without provocation at all, Zan found himself mulling over Raine's request for further Hideout input. It was probably the silence and the slow approach. Indeed having an idea, Zan mentally typed up a Flashmail as they pressed on towards the sealed gates beyond.

Flashmail!
To: Raine
From: Zan
Subject: Hideout Additions

I was wondering if it's possible for you to add computers in the Hideout that might give us access to the BBS board and, perhaps, a news board so we can keep up with real world events?

Whatever the result, thanks.

-Zan

Flashmail! End


The message soon forgotten, Zan's grip on his weapon tightened until his knuckles were white beneath the leather of the fingerless gloves. The gate had opened on its own. The player was far too experienced with the expectations of video games not to be expecting some sudden assault. The chill that had begun creeping down his spine like a spill of ice water only increased its flow when the front doors, great wooden structures, parroted the actions of the gate and opened up to reveal the ornate insides of the building. Walls of gold and floors of black, professionally laid marble awaited them with a slue of red carpets and mimicked paintings and art pieces from the real world. As eye-catching as they were, however, it was the figure sitting at the head of a table that caught his attention. Her sprite's style was...a lot like Primal's, like Devil's. Could that possible be Angel? Was she going to make herself such an easy target, make this field that simple? Zan knew the answer even before the speech that followed. Of course; a projection. Never one to be kept off balance for too long, the Heavy Blade took her up on her offer of interrogation. After all, besides witty banter, what threat could a projection really be? Zan was satisfied with his feeling of false security.

He was the first to speak up, her mention of gold making him a frown a little. Info for GP she probably could spawn on her own? He'd be more okay with it if he had more of it himself. "Sure, I have a question..." If this was a place of material possessions, perhaps there were things for the group to snatch. "Are there any hidden items in this mansion?" Would she even answer something like that?

"Of course there are. No mansion is complete without it's secrets. It's skeletons in the closet, so to speak. Not that I will tell you where they are; that, my dear, would be a needless exchange. If you plan to loot my home, you will do so without my permission, and face the cost later. Telling you what is hidden where would be useless; I would charge you more than the shop you would buy the item from would."

The werewolf went silent. This reminded him of old movies where graverobbers of old tombs stole the material and got smited for it later. Would it be worth it? Maybe. Probably not. "Typical. Then, if you can, tell me...where, aside from yourself, is the closest physical threat in this mansion?" It was something, at least. Payment for threat information could be useful, especially since Dumb and Dumber took out their last source.

"Don't look now, but if you're not careful, you could get a nasty rugburn. Of course, you could also stub your toes on the door. Nevermind the heavily armed warriors that surround you. Don't look at me like that; they could turn on you just as easily as they want to destroy me, with the proper incentive."

Zan kept his face straight at her jokes, not wanting to give her any signs that 'humor' had been successful. It would have worked if Nulus wasn't bent over in laughing hysterics next to him. Trying to ignore the Shade, Zan pressed on. "Alright, smartass. You're funny. How about this; are there any boss-type monsters, yourself aside, located in mansion?" He was determined to get something from her.

"Bosses? Why, such a quaint term. Hails from the days of the original video games, I suppose. No. While this is not to say my mansion is without threats, there is nothing a big boy like yourself can't take care of."

Contrary to what she may have been looking for (or, in fact, possibly exactly what she was hoping for), the Lycan found himself growing bored. "And traps? Nasty-triggered things? I suppose you have those here?" It may have been obvious...but someone had to check.

"My my, aren't you full of questions, and all for your own survival... Of course there are traps. What better way to protect my secrets?"

Zan held back a snarl. "Not just mine." The lycanthrope lazily gestured at those around him. "For us all. Though some may believe otherwise, group safety is a concern I possess. Another question, because I know me asking them just makes you drool in all the right places; what sort of questions were we going to have to pay for? So far, you've been very...forthcoming."

"Oh, I don't know. For the moment, you amuse me, and so I have not yet named a price. Of course, I could very well simply be racking up a tab for you to either pay or have flayed out of you... but that's for you to discover later."

Zan decided to take advantage of this amusement, deciding not to dwell on the thought of a tab. If he had one, it was too late to turn back now. "Yata yata yata. You do like to hear yourself talk, don't you?" Smirking, he continued. "And a goody, to keep you on your toes: What information are you willing to part with about Marionette? The Elites?"

"I simply enjoy the exchange, is all. As for information... well, I know nothing on the Elites you mention. As for the Master, there is little he wishes to divulge that you do not already know." There was a slight, though barely noticeable, emphasis on the word 'you'.

Zan couldn't help it, he fidgeted. Damn it. Time to change the subject. "And what, if anything else, are you willing to tell us about yourself? I don't suppose you'll just hand over a weakness? What if I say pretty please?"

"My dear, you already know my weakness. It's all around you."

Zan paused. Er, duh. "Right, but I'm talking maybe a power word that makes you have sex with Sheena before poofing into oblivion. Or, you know, perhaps a series of intricate prayers that turn you to our side and you become an ally to fight the good fight?"

"That, I'm afraid, is beyond your power to accomplish."

The Lycan was done with his questions. After one more. "One last inquiry Is there something I can give you to keep my friends and assorted teammates safe from you and your mansion for a while? Or is that beyond your power?"

"Well now, isn't that the thousand dollar question? As you no doubt have guessed, I have my own four forms. This one, my first... well, I suppose I could allow you to pass for a modest sum. Though, fifty thousand is more like it, rather than a single thousand."

She knew he didn't have that kind of money. "Because you totally expect us to have that on us." Zan walked away, the Shade following in suit. "You're not worth my time anymore."

Leaving the lounge, not giving the feeble imitation another look, Zan left the group behind. Better to give them a heads up, less any accuse him of being too foolhardy.

Flashmail!
To: Freedom Fighters
From: Zan
Subject: Little Ol' Me

As bad as an idea as it might be, I'm going to go check this place out. That way, if there's something that's going to wipe us out (some sort of trigger), it'll hit me. No need for the group to be clustered together because of that.


Zan's Flashmail was paused as he did a sweep of the area, noting the six rooms (only of which five were accessible) and the two northern doors that were locked. He continued.

As far as I can see, there's nothing to be afraid of in the halls out here. My senses aren't giving me much either. There's a whole other floor section north, but the doors are locked. This section has six other rooms that I've found, but the one to the southeast is locked. Feel free to explore whichever, but I think we all agree we should keep in close Flashmail contact.

I'm exploring the northeast room. Wish me luck.

-Zan

Flashmail! End


Playing as temporary scout had actually been a little fun. Perhaps it'd be something he'd pursue in the future. Making an internal jot of such, the lycanthrope proceeded to the room that, for all intents and purposes, he had chosen randomly. He had to start somewhere. The 'somewhere' ended up being a rather blatant trophy room. Covering every inch of the walls were trophy cases that were filled with the metal displays behind panels of glass from about waist length above. Below that were six rows of ten drawers each, none of which happened to stand out on first glance. Though the monster heads that were mounted higher than everything else were amusing, Zan found his first focus falling upon a single display case. While the others were completely filled with things that ranged from ballet to fencing recognitions of the highest degree, this one was missing one. What proceeded could only be called frustrating and pointless on the Heavy Blade's part, trophy shuffling and detail examination ending up in him banging on the insides of the case to try and reveal some secret. This, of course, only resulted in the glass panel that had been swung open falling from its hinges and shattered at Zan's feet. And so the 'do not break her shit' rule had been...broken. Rim shot.

A ping of Flashmail had been bugging him endlessly and, up until this point, the stubborn werewolf had deemed it unimportant. When the sender revealed itself to be Marionette, of course, this attitude changed.

Flashmail!
To: Marionette
From: Zan
Subject: alL youR basE

I knoW.

p. S. yoU neeD tO geT laiD.

-zaN

Flashmail! End


Nulus cleared his throat, having kept peacefully quiet until this point. Had he read Zan's mail somehow? "I think this whole 'Reinier is a child' thing is causing you go through something. I mean, first the Sheena comment and now the Flashmail? The wit thing doesn't fit you. You're not even that great at it..."

Half-accepting that the Shade was probably right, that he probably was just filling in Reinier's usual comic relief with his own to make his problems seem smaller, the Heavy Blade set back to work. After shoving in a random trophy to fill in the space next to one labeled 'Employee of the Month' (Zan quirked a brow at that while Nulus tried to take it, much to Zan's displeasure and denial), the werewolf had run out of ideas. Maybe the case wasn't that special. Who cares that it lacked the dust that some of the others had in layers? His frantic search went on to involve opening and closing the various drawers, finding only a myriad of metals and trinkets and the like. Though they had attractive craftsmanship and jewels galore embroiled onto them, Zan wasn't tempted. It's not like he could sell them at a shop or anything. He was almost sure of that. After what seemed like forever but was most likely only a few rushed minutes, the Lycan stopped at one drawer that, upon growling and shoving it shut, he heard a muffled clink. Huh. No longer caring about Angel's House O' Shiny Things, Zan removed the drawer and spilled its contents. When the divider fell out, along with all the medals contained on top of it, a tied sack no bigger than a human head plopped onto the ground at his feet. Curiouser and curiouser. A simply untying showed him a great pile GP that, for now, he ignored and tied back up. If he could get out of here without stealing anymore of her shit than was necessary, that'd be peachy.

The gold's revelation, however, had the Heavy Blade stumped. That couldn't have been all that was here. The semi-empty case was still bothering him. The trophies within were crafted of a strong, powerful gold while the rest were a cheap brass. That had to mean something (not to mention the other distinctions previously mentioned). A quick count of the rooms and Zan confirmed six in total, not counting the lounge. Six. That meant an elemental puzzle! Or something. Maybe. Obviously doubting, Zan eyed the blank spot in the special case and pondered. Metal was of ore, of the earth. Earth was Gan. Though the prospect of using a Gan spell in a room of precious objects when he was trying to minimize damage didn't appeal to him, he had run out of guesses. A Gan Zot was summoned forth, targeted at the blank spot that plagued him so. A pillar of stone erupted out of the ground beneath it, effectively sending a mass of splinters and glass from both that stack of cases and some of the ones around it in a small explosion that put a lump in Zan's throat. No that...that probably wasn't he solution. Ignoring the small cuts the glass had made on his face, cuts that had sealed almost instantly thanks to his lycanthropic metabolism, the werewolf pondered the situation. Maybe if he did tried to do some repairs...and give her her gold back...she'd spare the group? Er. Yea, that was a plan.

Mumbling a bit to himself, ignoring the shamed and embarrassed vibes Nulus was sending his way as the Shade tucked himself into a corner to disassociate himself with Zan as much as possible, he set off rumbling through the rubble to try and salvage what he could. He was no carpenter, but...wait. Amidst the blatantly unrecoverable site was a stone bowl and a rod, objects he knew from television and movies to be a mortar and pestle. Weren't those things used to grind herbs and other crap like that? How in holy hell had that fit in to a trophy scenery? Furthermore...how did he get what was obviously the item the room was built to protect by destroying it? It felt like the wrong way. He knew it was. Further inspection of the...er, blast site...revealed to Zan a sort of panel on the ground beneath where the empty case are had been. It was decimated now, but had Zan just removed a few drawers, found it, and pushed it...well, the property carnage could have been much less. Now, special accessory stashed away, the werewolf knew it was time to face her. It felt kind of dumb trying to get someone he was going to end up help killing later to not be upset with him, but Zan wanted as little group risk as possible. As he had said, he tried to do everything for the better of the whole.

Emerging into the lounge after a brief walk, gold-filled sack in hand, he stopped at her scowl. Yup, not going to be fun. "So. After I tell you NOT to trash the place, you not only steal my money, out of my trophy room, and then destroy the case holding my best trophies, but then you expect me to accept my own money as payment? Hrmph. Put it back, if you feel you must. Either way... this will cost you."

Damn it. Well then, if he was holding blood money, he was very well going to keep it. If damage was going to be dealt either way, he may as well get something besides a God damned stone bowl. But first...

Flashmail!
To: Freedom Fighters
From: Zan
Subject: Items

I found a mortar and a pestle hidden away in my room. Oh, and Angel isn't happy with my...creative way of obtaining it. If what I did gets us killed, my apologies in advance.

-Zan

Flashmail! End


He was mostly sincere about that last part.

Smiling a bit at the 3,000 GP that added itself to his total, smile twitching more as another idea led him back to the northeast room with a large, sharp splinter in hand, Zan knew the best way to put a cherry on top of his undoubtedly fast approaching castration at the hands of Angel.

"Zan...don't. I mean, this is me, and I'm still saying not to....well, fuck it. We may as well. I think you setting off a stone bomb in her trophy room sealed our doom anyway."

Having ignored the Shade's initial pleas, Zan was finished carving by the time he was finished talking.

Image

Staring at the purposefully misspelled phrase, a reference to an old internet 'meme', as they were called, Zan knew the truth in all of this.

They really needed to fix Reinier.
Last edited by Zan on Tue Aug 07, 2007 3:28 am, edited 1 time in total.
Lv. 50 Heavy Blade
Wishlist
Special: Levels, GR Sendai, PL Sakai, Darklore.
W: Tonosama Sword, Mineuchi, Jundachi.
A: Samurai Helm, Able Hands, Rare Greaves.
I: Holy Sap, Treebane, Cooked Bile, Nightbane.
EX: Elemental Summon (Lv. 2), Overdrive (Lv.1), Elemental Attacks (Lv. 2), Enhance Dark, Elemental Breath (Lv. 2).

Rayo
Exalted Player
Posts: 485
Joined: Wed Apr 09, 2003 7:21 pm

Post by Rayo » Mon Aug 06, 2007 4:39 pm

Rayo felt a chill as the team walked through the forest towards the mansion they were so obviously supposed to be headed for. The atmosphere within the group itself was rough, probably still left over from the previous field’s final trial. His encounter with Senna earlier probably hadn’t helped, the whole battle had started off of a ridiculous misunderstanding and was prolonged by their separate desires to battle. The archer had still wanted to test the limits of his new abilities, and Senna hadn’t exactly backed down from the thought of a brawl either. The two had returned peacefully enough, but the discomfort was there even if it wasn’t voiced. The bowman fell in line next to her as they approached the mansion and tossed her one of the golden bells he had acquired earlier and addressed her quietly.

“Listen, I do trust you. If you shake that and speak the word ‘poof’, then it’ll act as a deterrent to my grunty if she gets out of line again.”

Not waiting for a reply, or at least not wanting to force one if the long arm would rather not speak to him, he quickened his step and made only slowed his pace once the archer was near the head of the group. The player kept to himself for the rest of the walk and through Angel’s welcoming speech. Her suggestion of putting away their weapons was ignored however, his hand clutched his Silver Wind Bow all the tighter. Relaxing their guard would just grant Marionette’s side an easier ambush if that was his or her intention.

His thoughts were stalled by a bothersome ping, a new flashmail from Marionette. There were two different pieces of information the hacker could be referring to…either the most recent incident with Senna or the reason that had made him seek the freedom fighters, as some liked to call them, before he was trapped inside of The World once more.


<To Marionette

Do you even have a point in your cryptic messaging? If you know as much as you think you do, go ahead and act on it. I’m prepared. I still have questions I want answered however, and neither the late Devil nor the money loving Angel could or can seem to help. I want to know what happened to Kamui and the other administrators. I want to know where they are, and what could be done to rescue them. If you’re willing to answer, please tell me your price up front. If it’s questions you have, I’ll decide and see if I can answer them for you in exchange. Feel free to withhold the information you do have until after we’ve settled on the information exchange however. The information on your hubs, your self interest, concerns me less than what’s going on elsewhere.

Rayo>

The bowman watched Zan stride off, in search of the secrets of the mansion on his own. The last hub had been designed to split them up, would the group fall for it so easily? This time, they should at least avoid being split into groups of just one.

“We shouldn’t get too separated, moving in groups of at least three for a general area would be a good idea. I’m going to inspect what’s up ahead, if anyone would like to follow me and inspect nearby rooms."

The archer advanced through the doors, past all of the pointlessly glittering objects and towards one of the closest doors to him. It was marked with the number three, and was only across the hall from where the heavy blade had taken up his own search. He could hear footsteps behind him, so it seemed like he wouldn’t be left alone in his search.

ooc:

Just PM or post the description of room #3 please.
Last edited by Rayo on Mon Aug 06, 2007 7:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Rayo
Lv.47 Archer 745HP/311SP
Bell, the Silver Grunty of Thunder
Skills/Spells-Shocking Arrow of Voltage(30), Arrow of the Burning Stars(10), MeRai Rom(40), Rai Kruz(10), La Repth(20), Rip Maen(40), MeRai Kruz(20), GiVak Kruz(20), MeRai Don(20), Rig Saem(15)
Weapon/Armor/Book-Golden Royal Bow/Thunder Torque, Thunder Cloak, Able Ring, Ivory Greaves/Thunder Magic
Wishlist: YL Fukuoka, Stormlore, Winter Stone, Silver Grunty

Locked