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PostPosted: Tue Nov 06, 2007 4:42 pm 
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Exalted Player

Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 3:58 pm
Posts: 288
Location: In da' plains of hell, natch.
He walked into the Star Room after Hacorie's, only vaguely aware of Sekai's presence, and suddenly began to look around with clear surprise on his face. Canti could not believe what he was looking at. If memory served him right, he was in the freakin' book! As hard to believe as that sounded, he quickly got a hold of himself as he realized that, no, he was not going out of his mind. This was a trick of The World, a recreation in real time of one of the stories he read. At the moment, though, Canti found himself wishing that he had some popcorn for the occasion, because suddenly things began to flow in motion. The princess was at the balcony, looking out at the night sky. Then, there was music from somewhere in the garden... Wait... THEY were somewhere in the garden! She looked around, no doubt seeing the three of them but making no reaction, and then the music began to have its effect...on all of them.)

Canti: Whoa... Trippy.

(It was the image and scene of another world, another kingdom, something really far out there that somehow blended in with the music. And then...after a while...the vision faded. The music played on...and on...and...on? Canti's brow creased, realizing that something was amiss. The tune that had been playing was repeating itself now, but with no effect. He looked up at the princess and noticed that she was still enthralled. No, wait... She looked more like she was frozen there. The music kept going and going and...)

Canti: Wait, isn't this suppose to stop? Where's that music coming from, anyway...?

(WHOOSH! Canti leapt from where he was standing to press further into the garden, out of immediate sight of the others and past a cluster of trees to find...the prince?! Well, even if he wasn't directly-referred to in the book, it DID make sense that he would be the one playing the music. Still, what was he doing here besides proving that he could be an artist, formerly of the prince persuasion? He appeared to still be playing, endlessly... The Twin Blade stepped up to him, trying to get his attention.)

Canti: Uhhh...hello? Yo! Broken record man!

(He did everything. He snapped his fingers, waved his arm in front of the guy's face, yelled at him - nothing worked. The prince was in another world, possibly the one in the vision. We may never know for sure. What he was doing was standing there, playing what appeared to be the cross between a guitar and a harp. In any case, he didn't seem to be anywhere inclined to stop playing. Lacking a response, Canti looked over the instrument now...)

Canti: What is this...? A lute or something? Cut it out!

(He kicked the prince, right in his ass, having no respect for royalty. There was...curiously no reaction. It wasn't simply that the prince was ignoring him, but that he was very-probably unable to react to him. The kick was decidedly like kicking a lifelike mannequin, like hitting a dummy. He didn't do anything except make him look the dummy. The prince just wasn't budging, which meant he couldn't seem to even effect him, unless... Hmmm... Getting an idea, Canti pulled out and jammed his knives into the strings of the lute-thing.)

Canti: Hah!

(And the music played on, strings not cut or even changed in tone by the interference of Canti's weapons. The Twin Blade's jaw dropped for a second, and then he removed them, somewhat annoyed. There was literally no way to directly effect anything here. Canti checked around for anything out of the ordinary here. There had to be something that could act on this puzzle, assuming it WAS one. Because otherwise, this damn music was gonna be stuck in his head FOREVER!! But...unfortunately, the only real thing that appeared to be out of place was him. The Twin Blade rather stuck out in an otherwise boring garden courtyard, which made him wonder why nobody had noticed him or Hacorie or Sekai out here. Also, there was no maze of bushes. What the hell was wrong with these people?! You had to have a maze of bushes in a setting like this! Oh well... So, lacking anything but this gardening scene, Canti took this moment to inspect the prince himself. Miloban, right? The Twin Blade began to search the prince's pockets, something you couldn't otherwise do UNLESS people were frozen. Maybe they were frozen SPECIFICALLY to try this...)

*DA-DA-DA- Brrrt!*

(A tune like the Legend of Zelda item-sound crossed with record scratching was heard next as he pulled out a bit of lint and a pick for the lute-thingy. This was...decidedly useless. Or...wait... Was the prince playing this thing with his fingers...or was he perhaps looking like he should hold a pick? Canti looked and found that he was strumming it with his fingers, the prick, and seemed comfortable doing it. Canti shrugged at this, then used the pick to strum the instrument himself.)

Canti: Couldn't hurt, right?

(Well, it COULD, but it didn't. Nothing happened. Nothing changed. This was starting to really get on his nerves, with led to him sticking the piece of lint up the prince's left nostril - no, not picking his nose, thank you - knowing that this too would not change anything, but it WOULD be funny. It was a pressure-reliever in any case. Then, some Flash Mail came in from Zan.)

To: Freedom Fighters
From: Zan
Subject: Discovery

I think I know, kind of, what we're supposed to do. Each room has something wrong with it, something that differs from the book and the live action versions. In the moon room I found that the king doesn't draw and check his sword like he had in the book. As for the sun room...the princess' sapphires were on her neck in the book and they're on her wrist in this one.

And it seems that simply correcting the mistake is either impossible - in case of the sapphires - or just not obvious. But that's something maybe one of your guys can work with to find the rest of the solution. Hopefully it helped.


(NOW he tells him. Canti was just a split-second from facevaulting when he stopped...and realized...if he made some small amount of change to things in the scene...)

Canti: I wonder if I let the thing play over, things would be different...

(He had no idea how this place worked, but think about it... Keeping Zan's message in mind, if he made some small changes - like the lint up the prince's nose or the missing pick - and then left to replay the thing...maybe the things he DID manage to change would stay different and the book would be different. Maybe he could only do indirect things, instead of directly interfering. It was...a long shot, but worth a try. Canti leaned against the wall, thinking about it. Wait... Wall?! What the...? This place was a backdrop! Oh, he had to go tell Hac and Sekai about this! Canti ran off back to the rest of his team to go do just that.)

OOC: Actions involving the prince brought to you by Nighthand and those associated...

_________________
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.


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PostPosted: Mon Nov 12, 2007 6:34 am 
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Ikkitousen
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Joined: Tue Apr 10, 2007 8:28 pm
Posts: 108
Location: Hiding in the shadows
The talisman clicked, and the door swung open slowly, revealing a room similar to the one they had left the battle wounds in on the floor below. It was plain, completely unadorned and unfurnished. It seemed somewhat odd compared to the grandeur that the rest of the mansion exhibited. The walls were bare, the wood seeming solid and simply there. The floor was made of a simple tile, one that reverberated no click of the heels, no sound at all. This lasted for the longest of brief moments, before the air around them shimmered into life and reality, the scene blossoming to life around them.

Quite suddenly, they were outside, the walls of a castle stretching out behind them. The sun had just crested the horizon, shedding its morning hue slowly across the sky. In front of the Long Arm were two figures, their clothing nearly identical save for the discrepancy in colors. The king seemed to wear a suit designed to blend in with the forest around them, the green complementing the foliage nicely. The other figure, presumably the prince, wore an outfit of similar sight and texture, however the blood red of his outfit seemed to stain the Juk-ish feel of the area.

It was the clacking of hooves that drew the boy’s attention next, a procession of horses both regal and plain in appearance was led before the two men. With the servants astride their ponies, the king and prince atop their horses seemed a sight even more exalted. The burnished burgundy of the king’s horse and the night black of the prince’s seemed to exude color excellence, it was almost as if they superseded normal boundaries.

There was clinking behind the two players, a quick glance over the boy’s shoulder revealed the mounting of the royal entourage, roughly thirty in number of various soldiers bearing weapons and coats of arms that would proclaim them to be some sort of elite protection unit. They simply stood there, waiting as they looked beyond. Raq turned around in time to see the prince fiddle with his sword, before everything else was still. He simply stood there, at first more out of confusion then anything else. Everything had just stopped. What did that mean he was supposed to do? Something was off here, but he at first, had no idea what it was. Thankfully, his partner appeared to have some idea.

He watched the antics of the Lycan, resulting up into the wolf-man being sprawled out on his ass. Stifling the urge to laugh, it appeared he was not the only one to do so. A voice spoke out from the scene. However, it spoke from the scene, and as of such, was impossible to place where it came from. Was it one of the soldiers? The king? The prince? Or was it some other voice that would serve to taunt them from outside location. Zan, having recovered from his trip, took the opportunity to shift forms, for a reason unknown to the Long Arm. The man shot him an evil look on the way out, one that elicited a snicker as soon as the hairy bastard had exited the room.

That one wasn’t gone long, not nearly long enough for the boy to formulate any ideas. However, the Heavyblade flew through the room to arrive at the side of the prince and the king. He seemed to tool around a bit before he actually spoke.

"The king should have the sword."

Say what now? Apparently the voice had the response to that, as respond it did. The exchange lasted for a few moments, each time the voice seeming to grow more pleased with the fact that it was starting to piss Zan off. It was probably a good thing that the voice didn’t seem to come from anything visible, it would have been highly likely that he would’ve been thrown face first into a fight. Zan, grumpy at this point, stormed out of this room after sending off a flashmail. Thinking upon the man’s words, and trying to recall something from the story, he attempted to mount the horse, wondering if there was some difference in the horses. That however, served no purpose besides to say that he was no mounted. He had perched himself behind the prince, yet that was all.

Brow furrowing, he gazed at the sword at the Prince’s side. Maybe. His hands sidled around to the front of the prince’s person, hands fumbling at the man’s sword belt. Attempting to do that was apparently a bad idea, as the voice spoke up to him as he halted his action. You must reeeeaaalllly like him, hehe"

His cheeks flushed as he dismounted the horse. Attempting to redeem himself somehow, he broached a question to the voice.

"What would it take to swap the knife and the sword?"

"What'cha have to offer?"

"I could probably offer a few things. But I get the feeling that you might be in the market for something specific."

"Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps indeed. But I'm not gonna make it east for ya."

Deciding to ignore the error in the communication, he pressed on.

"I figured as much. So, something less tangible. A mental stimulation of sorts perhaps?"

"What don't I already have?"


”A body?”

"What's to say I lack even that?"

"Merely the fact that you seem bodiless. Doesn't necessarily mean that you are but that’s the assumption I would go off of until I saw otherwise."

The voice responded with only laughter.

"Alright, so maybe you do have a body. Whats stopping you from showing yourself?"

A pause.

”Why are you here?”

"To look for answers I suppose. And its better than doing so alone."

”You look delicious.”

What the hell did that have to do with anything? Still, he didn’t miss a beat.

"If I let you 'Feed' on me, will you switch the weapons?"

"Well gee, I don't know. Are you as tasty as you look? Let's find out!"

The damn thing was cackling as an arrow took the boy through the shoulder. The mad cackling increased as he dove away from the next volley. They had got to be kidding.

Apparently, they weren’t in Kansas anymore.

((OOC: Spear Knights
HP 700
SP 500
Ap Corv, Ap Do


Sword Knights
HP 500
SP 300
Ap Corv, Ap Do

Bow Knights
HP 300
SP 500
Ap Corv, Ap Do


There are 10 Spear Knights, 10 Sword Knights, and 10 Bow Knights to be dealt with. The 'narrator' will ignore anything said to it, laugh at you when you're hit or hurt, and generally just be chuckling the whole time.))

_________________
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)


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PostPosted: Tue Nov 13, 2007 5:31 am 
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Master of Games
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Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
Posts: 1260
Location: ...Tracking...please wait...
(ooc: this is a blatant cop-out post, but I'm very lacking in sleep, overly busy, lacking in time and inspiration, and in general having a bad time. Basically this is ooc responses to what's happened in brief, since there nothing drastic and new to add.

Phoenix, as he grows close to dying, notices a sudden ceasing in the drain on his attributes. This is caused by Lighteria's entrance into the room, which resets the story. His charge knocks the creature away from Phoenix, who then takes one large blow to his HP. He's not dead, and his stats revert to normal, but his SP and HP are nearly 0. The creature glares at the twinblade, but makes no overt move to attack; more like it's sizing him up.

Meanwhile in Canti's room, his experiments come to nothing. When he leaves the room the pick disappears and returns to the prince's pocket, and the moment he re-enters and the story is reset (or started fresh, if no one else is in the room) the lint is back to where it was.

That's... basically about it. There are two important fights at the moment, Phoe's room and Raq's room, and the other two rooms aren't progressing much yet. As for my next post, I'm not sure when it will be. The twice-a-week thing isn't working out very well (either by low post counts from people or bad timing for me) so it'll probably come next sunday/monday. Hopefully then I'll have enough cleared off my plate to write a REAL post.

Sorry for the cop-out post? I can't just leave you all hanging though in hopes I can post tomorrow or whatever, and then do the same day in and day out. So this will have to suffice for the time being.)

_________________
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Wishlist: Any Armor or Weapons under level 50, Any Scrolls (prefer level 2+)

EXP 500/1000


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PostPosted: Wed Nov 14, 2007 10:41 pm 
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Exalted Player
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Joined: Sat Jan 22, 2005 10:28 pm
Posts: 208
Zan watched the events between Raquar and the narrator unfold, a mounting boredom finding its way into his blood. Something about this new puzzle was getting very tired, very quickly, and he could see the drop in enthusiasm affecting his companion. Nul, on the other hand, seemed to be getting as much amusement out of the whole exchange as the narrator was. Briefly, the Heavy Blade pondered what kind of horror would be produced should those two ever become friends, and tossed it out almost as quickly. No need to completely decimate his sanity while they still had the last Hub to conquer. Conquer...ha. Things weren't getting anywhere. The group seemed to have, for the most part, dropped communication between one another and had resorted to tactics and plans that weren't discussed. This was probably why they were failing as badly as they were, and even as the Lycan recognized it, he had no drive to correct it. The Freedom Fighters always found a way to beat this shit one way or another. The only unpredictable factor was 'time'; how much it'd take and how much they even had in the first place. It wouldn't have shocked him if Angel was lounged in some observation room watching their every move and making sure to interject jeering laughter whatever she saw it fitting. It made sense that the narrator worked for her, when he thought about it.

The Heavy Blade found himself growing a steady respect for the Long Arm as the verbal back-and-forth continued. Zan certainly hadn't given up, not by any stretch of the word, but Raquar seemed to be having a better time putting together his failures and making a probable conclusion. The werewolf was no dumbass, but there were definitely people more mentally suited for puzzles and such in their group than himself. He offered much more than simply raw power, what with the whole loyalty and protector things he often did, but he was still able to recognize the areas in which he fell short. Well, usually anyway. The lycanthrope's mind sifted over to ponderings of Sekai and how she was fairing in it all. What room had she gone to? Was she okay? Was the narrator belittling her too? Probably. Could she handle it? Though she appeared fragile on the outside, something shy and defeatable, Zan knew better than that. Whenever she was pushed too hard, from what he had seen, there shown a real light of perseverance within. It was things like that that'd act as tools for the Freedom Fighters against the Elites in the long run. Those sons of bitches were driven by power and arrogance and all the downfalls of deadly sins. It was mildly cliché to think, but the Lycan knew that it was the honorable and the selfless that usually won out against things. Sometimes there were casualties, as the world wasn't perfect, but Zan trusted in karma.

It was dwelling on that that the first sounds of sudden action burst around them. One second, Zan and Nul were standing idly by while Raquar worked his word magic, and the next they were being blitzed by a mob of thirty blood-thirsty soldiers. In the background of their shouting was the grating laughter of the narrator of the one the Heavy Blade assumed was responsible. Perhaps the Long Arm wasn't the diplomat he had hoped...but then again...he had gotten the room to move. Maybe, in some weird, convoluted way, that's exactly what was supposed to happen. The whole 'mini-army after you' issue could have been a step to their goal. Maybe it was a sloppy step, one they could have made a little more gracefully, but the possibility of even the smallest progression was enough to get Zan's gears going. Rather than make him think of what was going on right before him, the werewolf realized that his room probably wasn't the only one dealing with violence. If it was a part of their advancement, then certainly someone else had stumbled on something in another room and was in need of a little back up. Zan needed to stay, to fight here, but the Moon Room had more than just him and Raquar. There was no verbal communication, no need for clarification; a look to Nul and the man burst into his Shade form in a haze of inky tendrils and green mist.

With Nulus heading off to the Sun Room, one in which he'd eventually launch an attack against the Phoenix-toting narrator, Zan was able to put his worries to rest and focus on the task at hand. Although the easy thing would have been to take out the guys charging at them, the ones wielding the bows proved to be a more immediate concern. A shouted suggestion to Raquar had the man weaving between bodies towards the arrow-launching bastards, knocking over a few spearman on his way and even managing to impale one wickedly through the face during his journey. The Ghostdancer and an Ap Do were called forth in chain, the werewolf left with little time to react to the horde by the time everything was said and done. One swordman was at the head of the group, if only by a foot and a second, and it was that one that he slew first. A quick windmill and a horizontal drag of the tree blade along his gut was enough to seriously impair the knight as Zan knocked away a strike from one of his companions. The sudden shift in momentum paused the legion's advance, giving the lycanthrope the precious second he needed to turn to the blood-coughing, downed swordman and remove his head from his shoulders. A look to Raq showed a defeated bowman and a kill count to three; one of each variety. The next minute or so found itself occupied with the lycanthrope attempting to deflect this and that, more or less successfully to boot (ignoring a few flesh wounds here and there and a single arrow to his shoulder that was quickly removed).

It was obvious, however, that the odds were too against them for Zan to persist as he was. Scrambling away for a moment to one of the invisible corners, he let the transformation sweep over him and boil his blood. Bones cracked, shattered and reformed, extending and strengthening as the muscle over them bulked and dark brown fur swept over him in tidal waves of color. The lycanthrope's facial skeleton rebuilt itself time and time again as the muzzle extended outward from his face, normal teeth all capping with lethal fangs as his senses exploded into a state of crystal clarity. With the now nine and a half foot hulking beast finishing his transformation with the addition of harshly curved and sharp claws, it was time to even the odds. The fight turned into a crunch of metal as armor was fractured beneath the werewolf's might, the Garou roaring and ripping its way through flesh and painting the room with blood. Raquar had to cast the occasional Repth and Zan had to use a Health Drink here and there, but the sudden presence of the Lycan's war form had given them what they needed to snatch up the upper hand. Both he and the Long Arm found their opposition less intimidating as they dropped their bodies, as they showed what it meant for the narrator to defy them and try and halt their progress.

After what seemed both like an eternity and only a handful of minutes, all thirty knights were decimated. Both of the Freedom Fighters were slouched down, panting, but they had survived. The last of Zan's cuts stitched themselves such as he shrunk back down into his human form once again, blood still staining his hands and a good portion around his mouth. The fight had been waged without his blade once the Garou had made its debus in the field and the location of the crimson liquid on his body spoke the story. It was a fighting style that the werewolf used to be ashamed of, but he had long since gotten over the embarrassment of the Beast and the impulses it grafted onto his brain. Wiping his mouth on the back of his leather coat sleeve, Zan waiting for something to happen. They had successfully fought back the soldiers, had showed the little prick that they were morsels of fairly recognizable proportions, and now all they could do is see what the disembodied voice would say about it. Probably something sarcastic and arrogant...as was per usual. Ah well. Bring it on. If it moved them on, if they allowed to get out of their stand still?

Fantastic.

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

OOC: Sorry if the fight was rushed and hardly described, but I figured that was better than letting this drag on anymore, right?

_________________
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).


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PostPosted: Thu Nov 15, 2007 2:54 am 
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Exalted Player
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Phoenix’s life was fleeting from him as the narrator from the Sun Room was feeding on him. He was not sure if it was going to fulfill the bargain but at this point there was no other option. He had been in near death situations before but none could compare with this one. This time, it was a slow and deliberate process unlike being beaten to death. The blademaster felt very weak almost to the point where he could have died by now but something unexpected occurred just now.

Phoenix was suddenly freed from the narrator and his strength somewhat returned. He was still feeling weak from the feeding but still alive and conscious. Suzaku, what happened?

Lighteria managed to free you from the narrator. Right now, they are staring each other. So what now, Kazuma-sama?

I didn’t expect this to happen but it’s time to change plans. I’m going to pretend that I’m too weak to actually fight. Suzaku, you are going to be my eyes. Tell me when it’s the best time for me to do a sneak attack on the narrator. I want you to work with Lighteria but don’t tell him about my sneak attack. Have him make sure to keep the narrator away from me. I’ll heal myself in the mean time. Suzaku, start the plan now.

The blademaster took a Healing Potion and a Mage’s Soul to recover the lost SP and HP from the feeding while Suzaku told Lighteria the plan.

Lighteria, this is Phoenix’s guardian, Suzaku. I am speaking via telepathy so just think your reply and I will receive it. Right now, Phoenix is weak at the moment due to the narrator feeding on him. So try to keep the narrator’s attention away from Phoenix. I will provide backup for you.

While Lighteria and Suzaku are focusing their efforts on the narrator, Phoenix was biding his time for his sneak attack. Lighteria has given me a chance to take out the narrator. I would have gone with the deal but this opportunity is so hard not to take. It never said that I must allow it to live after all. I can’t wait to stab him for the feeding on me. Probably killing the narrator would allow us to make the change in the story. Suzaku let me know when to strike.

The blademaster told Suzaku that he was feeling fine but that was partially a lie. He felt like crap but was much better compared when his life was fleeing away from him. He wanted to regain his strength just enough to do the sneak attack. Phoenix had fought with pain many times in the past but this feeling of weakness was something new to him. Usually when he was in a weaken state, there was pain but this time, it was noticeably absent. To Phoenix, it did not matter. He would find strength to fight through the weakness like he did in the past. Lighteria, Suzaku, it’s all up to you now.

_________________
Phoenix
Level 48 Blademaster
Equipped Skills: Vak Revolver, Gan Revolver, Dek Vorv, La Repth, Juk Kruz, Rue Kruz, BiVak Rom, GiGan Zot
Other Skills: Rue Kruz, Rip Synk, Rip Saem, Crack Beat, Rue Slash, Ani Slash, Gan Crack, Gan Revolver

Wish List: Phoenix's Fire, Gold Necklace
EX-Spheres: LV 3 - Overdrive, LV 3 - Curative, LV 3 - Elemental Breath


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PostPosted: Fri Nov 16, 2007 7:28 pm 
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Well-Oiled Machine
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Joined: Fri Oct 01, 2004 12:59 am
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Location: :noitacoL
While Lighteria may not exactly be the strongest character physically, he IS rather acrobatic. Luckily, being able to pick up a high rate of speed in a short distance combined with the whole, flinging himself wildly at it thing, is enough to knock the creature a few feet forward, breaking its grip on Pheonix. The twin blade flops onto the ground when the beast moves though, having not really gotten a very good grip, leaving the beast to plenty of time to turn around and size up his attacker. The lull in action is plenty of time for the twin blade to get a good look at the thing's face though... if that.. IS a face.

Wow... He's.... creepy.

Before his brain can start making future nightmare material, Lighteria's battle instincts kick in again. He gasps and pushes up from the ground, getting to his feet in an instant and stepping backwards, taking a rather guarded stance. The creature still stares though, leaving the two of them in a rather frightening and quite silent staring contest. Silent because the creature obviously has nothing to say to the twin blade since he's clearly hostile after the attack... aaaand Lighteria can barely talk to FREINDS let alone monsters. As Lighteria's left leg begins to shake out of nervousness, the silence fades... sorta.

Lighteria, this is Phoenix’s guardian, Suzaku. I am speaking via telepathy so just think your reply and I will receive it. Right now, Phoenix is weak at the moment due to the narrator feeding on him. So try to keep the narrator’s attention away from Phoenix. I will provide backup for you.


Lighteria blinks, not having a quick response.

...

....Holy cow!! You're speaking inside my head! Neato!!


Another pause.

I mean... yeah! No problem!

Seeing the creature not making any immediate moves to dismember him, the twin blade swallows and quickly tries to form a good plan of attack. Clearly Pheonix could use some healing, but casting Repth takes time and the creature is far too close for the twin blade to get off an uninterrupted cast. It's unlikely that the creature will just LET him cast something as well, since, ya know, Lighteria attacked him. It then occurs to the twin blade that he's not the only one with healing spells.

"Kit!" The twinblade suddenly whispers, his hands digging into his belt, pulling his blades from their hostlers. "Use repth!"

Another pause.

Lighteria blinks a few times and looks to his feet.


Back in the library, Kit has rolled over only once on her chair, having needed to make a mental leap for the world's fastest but tastiest mouse. Her tail twitches and she purrs, enjoying this dream more than the last one.


"...Crap." Lighteria mutters to himself, gripping his blades tighter. Clearly the creature should have attacked by now but it hasn't for some reason. Either it's still sizing the twin blade up, or it's just thoroughly amused by the range of facial expressions and hushed whispers to nothing that this player is doing. Either way, Lighteria quickly comes up with a plan B, and before he can question whether or not he's actually reached plan C at this point, he charges forward at the shadow.

"Time for a happy ending!" He says at the beast, rushing forward with his head down so he's ready to avoid swipes from those REALLY long arms. While the saying is corny, the twin blade isn't exactly going for intimidation, just distraction. The first attack he attempts is a VERY clumsy upward swipe to the creature's chin with his right blade. The uppercut is somewhat of a projected attack, but the blade and the twin blade are right in the beast's face. Hopefully, and this is crucial to Plan BpossiblyC, it takes the focus off his unarmed left hand which is being FAR less clumsy as it flings a Health Drink towards Pheonix, right past the shadow's left side.

_________________
Lv. 37 Twin Blade (180 SP)
Weapon: Rashou (Thunder Coil- 30, Suvi Lei- 20, Mumyn Lei- 30) (Life Drain)
Armor: Holy Tree Mail (Juk Kruz- 20) - Scarab Earring (La Repth- 20, Rip Maen- 40) - Time Sandals (Ap Do- 15) - Forest Gloves (Juk Kruz- 20)
GP: 14384

Wish list (In order of priority): Angel halo accessory, chibi angel wings, Bone Armor, Professional

Lighteria: "Obsessively updating my profile since Fri Oct 01, 2004 7:10 pm"


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PostPosted: Tue Nov 20, 2007 8:13 am 
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Master of Games
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Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
Posts: 1260
Location: ...Tracking...please wait...
Zan and Raquar

The chaos began and was over in less time than the Narrator, or so they thought of it, could have thought. It's original mirth turned to vile hatred as one after another of it's soldiers were decimated.

"Hmm. You ARE tasty looking. But painful, so painful. Very well!"

In the blink of an eye, all the soldiers were back as they had been before, all signs of the battle removed from the room; except, that is, those covering the pair of freedom fighters. This time, however, there was an extra one at the head of the group. While the soldiers faced their glassy eyes forwards, set on the rising sun and the woods soon to be hunted, this final soldier sat high on his steed, watching them.

A moment past, then the form of the soldier changed. It's knightly armor turned black and crumbled, leaving black-as-night fabric behind. The rest of its clothing turned black as well, as did its skin. Soon it was little more than a hunched shadow on the back of the horse, a pair of glowing blue eyes all that existed to show definition.

The horse whinnied and reared back, attempting to throw its now-sinister rider, but the creature simply laughed, the same laugh that had plagued the pair for so long. A sword was drawn from nowhere, a shining thing of gold and steel. The creature, the narrator, took a seemingly effortless swing, and the horse fell to the ground, its head severed at the shoulders. The sword bearer rolled and rose, wavering and staggering with amusement, laughter filling the air.

"Time to tenderize my meal!" It shouted, and ran for the battle-weary pair. It struck Zan first, with the flat of the claymore-sized weapon, batting him away from the long-arm and into the invisible wall that signaled the end of the room. With the heavyblade out of the way, it reached out and snatched the spear in Raquar's hands. The sword disappeared, and it yanked on the spear with one hand, tugging the long arm forward. Before he could react, to drop the spear or let off some attack, a hand had plastered itself against his face, and Raq would feel the life being sucked out of him; HP, SP, stats, and all.

Lighteria and Phoenix

Lighteria's approach elicited little reaction from the tall, thin creature before him. His uppercut was shied away from, the shadow moving as silently as a real shadow would. As the twin blade tossed the health drink, however, the monster took action.

One of those exceedingly long arms grasped the wrist that threw the potion, while the other reached and grabbed the bladed hand. Lighteria now found himself held quite firmly with his arms across his chest, pulled painfully to the sides. A bony knee shot up and kicked the twinblade away, his arms released.

Now would be the perfect time for Phoenix to launch his attack, should he feel prepared enough to do so...


------ooc:
Short and to the point, but with only three posts to respond to, not much else to do about it. Next post next weekend, unless everyone posts quickly this week, which I rather doubt due to the holiday. I get the feeling this puzzle/fight combination has sort of stalled out, and mostly my fault for being spazzy with the posts, but we'll see how it plays out. Two of the rooms are close to their solutions anyways. Just tough fights left, really.

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Wishlist: Any Armor or Weapons under level 50, Any Scrolls (prefer level 2+)

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PostPosted: Thu Nov 22, 2007 3:28 am 
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Phoenix had stood away from battles in the past but this time, it was more of a feint. He needed to act like he could barely stand much less trying to fight against the narrator. Waiting like this was something Phoenix was not very patient for. He usually just jump into the frey at first and then jump again with a plan of attack. This time, he needed to wait at the right moment and quickly end this fight. The blademaster did not know how long Lighteria can stand against the narrator especially if he split up into his orbs.

Phoenix had a quick flash of thought of what he was going to do once Suzaku gave him the signal to sneak attack. He immediately contacted Suzaku about his flash of thought. Suzaku, tell Lighteria to split up into Vak orbs when I attack. After the thought, he noticed a health drink headed towards him.

Kazuma-sama, it is time to attack. The narrator has grabbed Lighteria by both arms. I will relay your tactic to him now.

The blademaster slowly got off the ground and felt a bit weak but still able to move pretty well. He had his sword ready and walk in a fast pace towards the narrator’s back. Suzaku told Lighteria about Phoenix’s tactic.

Lighteria-kun, Phoenix needs you to split up into Vak orbs as he is about attack the narrator. Wait until he begin his attack.

Phoenix was ready to attack the narrator from behind and put all his strength into stabbing it in the back. He gave a full thrust with the Bloody Pain into the narrator’s back. Once the sword was thrusted into the narrator, the blademaster began his next phase of attack. “VAK REVOLVER!”

The power of the Vak Revolver was contained within the narrator’s body. This tactic was once used before in the past as Phoenix was fighting for his life within his mind. He wondered how this tactic would fare outside of his mind. Hopefully it would have the same result like before which was the defeat of his current enemy. With Lighteria’s orb ability, the power of his Vak Revolver was increased and might be enough to defeat the narrator. The blademaster gave a smirk as he executed the attack and said to the narrator, “You know you should have done the deal and ran away. Screwing with me was the worst mistake you made. Now burn.”

_________________
Phoenix
Level 48 Blademaster
Equipped Skills: Vak Revolver, Gan Revolver, Dek Vorv, La Repth, Juk Kruz, Rue Kruz, BiVak Rom, GiGan Zot
Other Skills: Rue Kruz, Rip Synk, Rip Saem, Crack Beat, Rue Slash, Ani Slash, Gan Crack, Gan Revolver

Wish List: Phoenix's Fire, Gold Necklace
EX-Spheres: LV 3 - Overdrive, LV 3 - Curative, LV 3 - Elemental Breath


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PostPosted: Sat Nov 24, 2007 2:45 pm 
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"Uh oh-" Lighteria eeks out when the shadow's hand grasps his wrist left wrist. Now the attack had been rather telegraphed but the twin blade hadn't really expected to be grappled so easily... at least not with the hand he was trying to draw attention away from. He blinks at his grasped wrist, a little surprised... though not half as surprised as when he finally realizes gravity isn't kicking in yet. His vision shifts quickly in front of him, staring at what presumably is this shadow's face. To his dismay, there's not a scratch on the thing's face. To his FURTHER dismay, his notes his blade hand also quite grappled. And although this does solve the Mystery of the Floating Twin Blade, he'd kind of hoped for a slightly more 'sci-fi gravity machine' ending and a slightly less 'helpless in front of a scary shadow' ending. Not much he can do now though. The twin blade swallows with nervousness, clearly pain's a comin', but his internal panic is interrupted by thoughts in his head.

Lighteria-kun, Phoenix needs you to split up into Vak orbs as he is about attack the narrator. Wait until he begins his attack.

Wha-? My Vak Aura? If you need fire I co-

"Hrrrrk!!" The twin blade coughs out, the wind getting knocked out of him by a frustratingly well placed knee to the stomach. The thought passes his mind JUST for a moment how really, the reason a knee hurts so much is because it's got a lot of bone behind the skin... and this one is ALL bone. For the moment, Lighteria's innate fear of both extreme pain AND skeletons is put on hold as he tumbles backwards from the blow. His upper back hits the floor first. As it does though, Lighteria reaches his arms out for a quick steady before he makes a backwards roll. His body flips painfully on the cold floor for a moment, but his reflexes manage to steady him enough so that his feet plant on the floor as they flip around instead of him just collapsing onto his stomach like a rag doll. His left hand plants to the ground and he stops his roll, slipping into a crouching position facing the shadow.

"Rgg-!" He grunts out, glaring at the shadow's face again. "Fine!! Here comes a tumble attack!!" He shouts angrily at the beast, digging his foot into the ground and launching himself as fast as he can towards the thing's stomach. Now in all honesty, Lighteria is a terrible liar. He has a rather strong aversion to lying itself actually. In this case however, it's less of a LIE as much as it is a tactic. With a full head of steam and a very angry face ...for him... he hurtles at the beast's chest. Of course, as he gets within reach of the shadow's arms, his eyes clench shut, his mind trying to focus. Normally splitting quickly and on-cue is somewhat difficult, luckily the pain in Lighteria's gut, the adrenaline from actually shouting a taunt and the fact that he's STILL afraid of skeletons all provide a good bit of emotional urgency. With is heart racing and his mind focused on flames, the twin blade flashes white in mid-air, his body bursting into a little over a hundred bright red points of light.

The orbs fling themselves into the air like ashes popping off of a crackling fire. Each orb seeking to find its own place in the area and flood it with pure Vak energy. Several of the orbs pass by the shadow's torso and arms, whizzing by like hyperactive fireflies, each impact leaving a weak but annoying shock of flame energy on its body. Within seconds, the portion of the ball room the trio is scuffling in begins to glow with a red hue, as though the room is illuminated by a fireplace instead of the fancy windows. Similarly, Phoenix's weapon also begins to glow a red color, the surrounding orbs eager to infuse a fire weapon. Though Lighteria is only very dimly aware of the actual attack, there is a small part of the twin blade that can sense the path of the blade... if only because of the skill being charged up.

“VAK REVOLVER!” Though one would need ears to actually hear an attack name being called out, it seems Lighteria... or possibly just the Vak element responds quite quickly to the attack. The flames surrounding Phoenix's blade from the elemental attack crackle and burn brighter and hotter. The flames seem to flow wildly from whatever part of the blade ISN'T currently plunged into the monster, the display merely hinting at what the flames are doing inside as well.

_________________
Lv. 37 Twin Blade (180 SP)
Weapon: Rashou (Thunder Coil- 30, Suvi Lei- 20, Mumyn Lei- 30) (Life Drain)
Armor: Holy Tree Mail (Juk Kruz- 20) - Scarab Earring (La Repth- 20, Rip Maen- 40) - Time Sandals (Ap Do- 15) - Forest Gloves (Juk Kruz- 20)
GP: 14384

Wish list (In order of priority): Angel halo accessory, chibi angel wings, Bone Armor, Professional

Lighteria: "Obsessively updating my profile since Fri Oct 01, 2004 7:10 pm"


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PostPosted: Mon Nov 26, 2007 8:46 pm 
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Silk had been prepared to enter a few of these interesting rooms, but without warning or any kind of reasonable explanation, he tripped and fell flat on his face before actually entering any of them said rooms. Deciding that this was a sign -- someone clearing didn't want him to enter -- the Fist Fighter plopped himself on the ground and began to read Bruce Lee's book. As could be expected, the instructional writing opened many horizons for the Fist Fighter, who by the standards of the legendary Lee, was simply an amateur fighter.

Lee advocated a fluidity of motion more than anything else; fighters should never be constrained by form and structure, as a fight was inherently spontaneous. Combat should be conducted by reflex and counter-reflex, never by adherence to tradition or artificially conceived standards, and Jeet Kun Do was not so much a style of fighting as a philosophy of battle. The idea was to maximize reaction while simultaneously maintaining a paradox of sorts: that is, forming formlessness. Where the only constant is chaos, where does the mind reside? Somewhere in a swirling vortex of instinctual movement.

As Silk read the book in the vaunted library, he pondered the amazingness he would soon achieve via the instructions in Jeet Kun Do. It wouldn't be long before he would achieve full mastery of his body, and upon that day this Fist Fighter would become the greatest martial artist in the land. Such daydreaming was apparently all Silk was good for at the moment, and while his comrades fought in some kind of fairy tale, he relaxed against the wall of books with a wistful sigh. I hope that one day, indeed, I can become a truly great warrior.

For the next few hours, he spent his time visualizing himself fighting against the greatest warriors of all time, shifting and moving like the wind, constantly variable, throwing kicks and punches like lightning, but without pattern or predictability. Smooth like satin, he was, shifting left and right while delivering fatal blows. It was amazing, and he loved to focus hard on seeing himself attack with his imagined alacrity (which was outstanding, of course). Such meditation was the key to achieving greatness, or so spoke the esteemed Dr. Jorge Valverde, a wise and learned psycho-analytical performance guru. Silk had studied under this esteemed doctor for weeks on end, and it was here and now that he was able to apply his spoken word to a truly practical cause: the learning of Jeet Kun Do.

And so, the Fist Fighter, leaning against a stack of books with his eyes closed, provided absolutely no assistance to his esteemed comrades, and instead sat beside Rayo (who was doing nothing too, apparently), and prodded him with sticks and sometimes books, because as an Archer, he should know a thing or two about books, else he suffer from the rare disease known as Archeritis, which, unlike Arthritis, does not result in the lessening of bone density and skeletal health in general, but actually refers to the dulling of a normally sharp as an arrow mind of a skilled Archer, who would be doing himself a disservice if he wasn't a smartypants.

_________________
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


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PostPosted: Tue Nov 27, 2007 6:47 am 
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After my retreat from the cross room, I was thoroughly winded and embarrassed. I was ashamed to have forced the "narrator" of sorts into action, as it showed that I lacked both the wisdom needed to solve this puzzle and the control needed to deal with other beings in The World safely. I needed to work on my people skills, but there was nobody around to practice with usually... leaving me to develop them through my continued attempts at negotiation.

Attempts is the right word. Never successes, just more and more attempts. Ah well. No matter now, I probably screwed that room to all hell for all future attempts. May just have to beat him down, but there's no way Senna and I could handle that ourselves. We'll need help....

I took a quick look around to determine who wasn't in the library before opening up a flashmail.

Quote:
Flashmail!

To: Phoenix, Raquar, Zan, Hacorie, Lighteria, Sekai, Lord Canti
From: Zhao Xun
RE: Cross Room

I think I may have forced us into a tough battle in there, and for that you have my apologies. Not sure what state you all are in, so please check in by responding to this Flashmail. If you don't respond, I'm coming into whatever room you're in under the assumption that you're either incapacitated or too busy fighting to write me an answer.

~Zhao


That done, I attempted to gauge the situation in the library itself. Silk seemed to be lost in thought, reading some book or another. Rayo was off in his own world, which was at the same time both shocking and seemingly normal. Rayo had always struck me as the pensive type, just... not when there were things to be done. Senna was there, of course, catching her breath just as I was.

I was already growing anxious as I waited for a response to my Flashmail, but I knew I just had to give the others time. They would respond... after all, they were some of the group's most powerful members. There was no way they could be in too much trouble, right?

If only I had known....

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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


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PostPosted: Wed Nov 28, 2007 1:15 am 
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Ikkitousen
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Location: Liminality
With little to no idea as to what she was supposed to do inside the room, the small Archer quietly slipped out after the scene finished playing and stood there, paused in time for all eternity unless they could figure out what was wrong. Leaving the room seemed best, she didn't like riddles or puzzles, never had the ability to solve them sadly enough and therefore would make herself useful elsewhere until... well, someone or something needed to be done that was within her ability to do so.

So little she could do for the people here and even less for herself in the long run.

The ping of an incoming flashmail distracted her from the pessimistic turn her mind had taken and dragged her out of her thoughts quite pleasantly as she skimmed and read the contents thrice over; as was her usual habit to do.

Quote:
To: Phoenix, Raquar, Zan, Hacorie, Lighteria, Sekai, Lord Canti
From: Zhao Xun
RE: Cross Room

I think I may have forced us into a tough battle in there, and for that you have my apologies. Not sure what state you all are in, so please check in by responding to this Flashmail. If you don't respond, I'm coming into whatever room you're in under the assumption that you're either incapacitated or too busy fighting to write me an answer.

~Zhao


She was out of the room and stood beside one of the books, frowning as well at the fact that she couldn't see or read the text if it was there. Damn, her eyes must have been going bad... or she just didn't see very well in dimly lit areas. Either way; she couldn't read and therefore hadn't a clue on what she needed to do at the moment.

Quote:
To: Phoenix, Raquar, Zan, Hacorie, Lighteria, Zhao Xun, Lord Canti
Sender: Sekai
Subject: RE: RE: Cross Room

I could find nothing in the room I was in, but, I do not have any true ability or talent when it comes to riddles or puzzles in the first place, as ashamed as I am to admit my weakness.

I believe the one thing I am able to do, besides use of whatever of my abilities as an Archer may be useful, is assist anyone who needs healing or someone to use recovery magic and items on them. I have plenty so... please do not hesitate if you are in need of assistance, I will do my best to help.

- Sekai


All she could do now was be on alert in this room full of candles and the books... and hopefully see that her healing abilities weren't needed and that they could move on soon from this place.

_________________
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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


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PostPosted: Wed Nov 28, 2007 4:11 am 
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The transition from heated battle to settled aftermath was...interesting, to say the least. Something smug reared its head inside of Zan as the giddy amusement of the 'narrator' seemed to shift into something ugly and dark. It was the very air around them that spoke such a thing, like a tangible aura the pair could practically reach out and touch. Rather than be intimidated by it, as the Heavy Blade was almost positive it was meant to do, he found his determination to complete the damn room fueled that much further. If all it took was slapping around the motherfucker's 'warriors'...getting the thing really pissed shouldn't be that hard. How they'd transition from their victory into a fight with the creature was initially unclear to the lycanthrope. Was he just going to show up? Were they going to have to goad him out? Was it going to be as simple as demanding the change now that they had passed whatever test it had hoped to present with that fight?

Such questions soon found themselves answered with the rise of the mystery voice's words and the sudden rewrite of the world around them. Though Zan's clothes remained a little scuffed, as was the case with Raquar, the rest of the room reverted back to its previous state. All the soldiers were in place, ignoring them...again. Something in the Lycan wanted to jump out and wreak havoc for, as far as he could tell, they had accomplished nothing. The voice could continue to send its forces after them until they no longer had the strength in them to resist its advancements. Most of him was frustrated at this beyond believe, hopelessness sinking in, but another was impressed. Finally the Elites had managed to mold Twilight in a fashion that allowed them to create such omnipotent creatures. Zan had a feeling that they didn't run into indestructible creatures often because Twilight always seemed to balance itself out and create a weakness. Should the Elites have actually found a loophole...it was as amazing (or at least someone like Dien would think so) as it was horrifying.

Before further contemplation could be had, of course, Zan's continued glances picked up on something out of place. There was one extra soldier than before. Somehow, not only had the voice managed to rejuvenate its forces, but it had added another one to the ranks. Fucking great. Leaving and tossing up his hands in defeat seemed like an amazingly fantastic idea for a second...before the scene changed. Though everyone continued to ignore them, mostly everyone, the additional rider focused its attentions on the two players. A heartbeat later and it was charging at them with the ferocity of a jouster and the purpose of a villain. Every hoofbeat seemed to melt away another piece of armor into blackness, into shadow, until the rider (what Zan felt, inwardly, was the voice they had been hearing) was little more than a humanoid mass of shadow and glowing eyes. The Heavy Blade had seen far worse in his time with the group to be frightened, but he did find himself suddenly taut. Quickly, the Ghostdancer was summoned into his hands, the two-handed sword wielded in only one thanks to the benefits of his preternatural strength.

The sudden feel of the unnatural being riding it seemed to throw the horse into some sort of fit, stopping the figure short of doing any momentum-related damage to them. Zan half-expected to see it tossed off the beast, something that would earn the son of a bitch a fit of laughter, but what happened instead caught his heart in his throat. Like it was nothing, like it was just something a person did every day, the rider lopped off the head of the horse, falling it in a single blow and leaving the stranger standing. It was true that Zan carried inside of him a vicious animal, a creature that thirsted for flesh and blood, but he still...thought and felt what he did. Precious control was his over the Beast, but should he ever lose it, even for a second, he'd have been able to claim impersonal insanity (though, truly, he'd still feel responsible). The figure? Zan doubted it could make the Beast's claim. It just killed because, well, why care about a digital horse, right? Digital or not, the action still seemed callous...and unnecessary. With the figure bolting towards him, the lycanthrope no longer worried about the grotesque fate of the steed and was more worried about the pain he was no doubt seconds from being on the receiving end of.

As predicted, it was only a nanosecond before the flat end of the huge weapon smashed into him like he was nothing, tossing him into the air like a rag doll until he thumped against the invisible barrier of the room's walls. As much as it hurt, and it did, blunt-force trauma was much more easily patched than something a stab from the same weapon would be. His werewolf metabolism sapped away the blossoming bruises and the mildly cracked rib with a fairly speedy effort. Zan noticed that, as his avatar grew in levels, his Twilight grew in strength. Though healing bruises had never been an issue, the cracked rib (as small as it had been) still would have required a more practical and quick Repth. Shrugging such thoughts aside, Zan hoisted himself to his feet and set eyes on the dropped Ghostdancer. With it only a few feet away and his mind in the haze of combat, retrieving the weapon was done with efficient haste and an unknowing ignorance to what else was going on around him. Raquar was paused with the bastard's hand placed on his face doing...something. The Long Arm seemed to be growing weaker and, really, that was all the Heavy Blade needed to know.

With a roar of combat and a for-then dismissal of the ping of Flashmails, Zan charged towards the shadowy mass and attempted to cleave away its 'arm', hopefully disconnecting whatever bond it was manipulating to hurt Raquar in the fashion it was. Whether or not it succeeded, the Lycan wasted no time in continuing his slashed assault, swapping out for the Sun Fang Five and immediately unleashing a Rai Drive onto the figure. Maybe the fact that it was incarnate darkness would make it weak to Rai like Ani. Maybe it was made of Ani...in which case, all the better. It would probably be difficult enough to defeat the thing as is. A mental distress call was sent out to Nulus, the Shade retreating from its place in the Sun Room to join them and fly into the fray. It became a maddening assault of sword and claw, but their trained synchronicity kept the chaos from invading their focus. The 'narrator' would die...and they would make sure of it. No one laid a hand on one of his teammates like that and got away with it.

No one.

_________________
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).


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PostPosted: Sun Dec 02, 2007 9:02 pm 
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What was she doing here?

It was a hard question to answer – growing harder every passing hour. Was she here because this was where she wanted to be? Or was it because she felt some sort of obligation? Or was it her own laziness – latching on to this group because it was would be too hard to go her own way and try to work this thing out on her own? And since when had she ever needed to follow the crowd at all? It was a weird feeling, and a sudden awakening for Senna – she’d been lulled into a weird sense of complacency, the very thing she’d been trying to fight against when she killed the second of Angel’s minions with help from Hac. She was just going along the path before her. Was that what she wanted?

No.

Reaching her decision, she briefly considered Telling someone. There were a couple people…

No. She walked into the library behind Zhao, already deciding against that. They’d known her. Let them use that to decipher her actions. The flashmail icon was still blinking, messages from Marionette. More would likely be added. She could learn to ignore it.

Quietly, she slipped through the door to the dark staircase, and again went on, through the house, out the door, off the field and out of the sphere of the Freedom Fighters, leaving behind only an ardent wish for them to reach success in what they were doing, whether or not she found success in her own search.

((OOC: Adios all!))

_________________
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
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PostPosted: Tue Dec 04, 2007 6:12 am 
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Ikkitousen
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Location: Hiding in the shadows
If he could have, he would’ve driven his spear through the damn narrator’s mouth. That insane cackling was driving him absolutely insane. He grunted as he ripped the arrow out of his shoulder, blood dripping lightly from the wound. A quick glance to his left revealed the wolf lunging into action, and it seemed that the both of them were on the same length. He drifted off toward the right, attempting to break off into a slant toward the archers. He managed to weave through the first couple waves of knights, but started to get caught up after. Dodging the blows he could and taking those he could not, he swore quietly as more arrows sought his flesh. Damn it all.

He ducked down under a horizontal stroke and then flinched as an arrow bounced off his head. Alright, that was fucking enough. He shouted out a harsh command, flames swirling at his command around him. The heat and anger he pumped into the attack was enough to repulse the crew around him. It gave him enough time, and enough space to force open a hole, leading directly to the archers. Snarling, he swerved around one arrow and leaped over another as he launched himself toward the closest bow knight. He crashed headfirst into the fighter in the middle of its spell, making it an Ap ungghhhhh Do, but hasting itself would do no good in this situation, the boy didn’t plan on letting it go anywhere. Blessing something that was actually looking out for him, the Long Arm brushed aside a clumsy stab with an arrow before depositing the tip of his own weapon into the gut of the soldier. Blood spurted out from wound and spurted over his hands messily. Goddammit.

He ended the archer’s life quickly, that was one enemy down, and then he really didn’t have to work anymore. This was the first time he had seen the Garou form at work. And it was . . . an experience. There was no need to fight anymore. At least not from him. The Lycan brushed off arrows, swords, and spears much as if they were fleas, and fleas they might have been to the hairy brute. Batting away the few weapons that attempted to find their way toward him as well as healing the giant lug who, even in this tank of a form, was still taking massive amounts of damage. He fired off the heals when they were needed, and in the span of a few moments after the initial skirmishes, it was over with bits of limbs and spats of gore everywhere when Zan reverted toward normal form, and the scene of carnage reverted to normal as well.

Except not. Apparently an addendum to the scene had been tacked on, a soldier that when it moved, it disturbed the animalia sense of well being. The horse pitched and whinnied before simply being slaughtered as whatever the hell it was quite literally flew off the back of the animal and broadsided his wolf compatriot into that invisible barrier. Not cool. The boy had his spear unslung, but there was next to no point to having it even exist as a giant black shadow palm enveloped his face. The sense of danger was overwhelming. The song started up in his brain, only to be shattered again in a series of moments. He tried to strike it up again, and did so to an extent, before it was shattered again. His mind was growing foggy. As a matter of fact, so was his body, the damn unreliable thing sagging under him.

This was feeding? Fuck it, this bastard could burn in some everlasting hell before it sucked all the vitality out of this Long Arm’s bones.

_________________
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)


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