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PostPosted: Sun Dec 16, 2007 12:34 am 
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Master of Games
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Zan and Raquar

Zan’s Rai Drive, fueled by the fury of his sense of justice and the power of his lycan background, ripped through the shadow like it was nothing more than exactly that; a shadow. The creature’s form wavered and washed, like a smudge of oil on water being wiped away, before it reformed just as quickly. Not quickly enough, however, to keep the heavy blade from noticing something buried in the shadow. Something that glittered with the look of something fragile.

Zan unleashed a second Rai Drive, a mere eight inches higher. Again the shadow was washed away, and what was revealed was a fist-sized crystal. Nulus’s following strike took the crystal from it’s suspended state, and threw it across the room. It hit the invisible barrier and shattered into dust.

The shadow healed, but the fight was over. It fell to it’s knee and looked at the heavy blade that had defeated it so easily, and knew its mistake. It made a motion as if to speak, but before the words could form, it was gone. Simply… gone.

In the place on the ground it had once occupied was the sword it had struck Zan with. The sword that could only be the objective of their mission, the item to fix the room’s plot. Hesitantly, for it could still be a trap, Zan picked it up. When nothing happened, he carried it to the side of the King, and handed it over. The king didn’t notice the player, but smiled at the comforting presence of the blade.

A sound echoed through the room, the hunt horn crying out the start of the day. The party began to ride off into the forest, as the image around them faded.

All that was left in the room was Zan, Nulus, Raquar, and a small box in the middle of the now-bare room.

Lighteria and Phoenix

Everything seemed to happen at once.

Vak Revolver spun through the shadow as if it wasn’t there, wipe after wipe of the flame-covered blade sending more of the creature’s body until little of it was left, save for a single hovering crystal.

The shadow had a look of surprise on what remained of its face as the final strike of the revolver shattered the crystal. How could it have been defeated so easily? But… that was how. It had allowed itself to be drawn out, and that was its weakness. Behind the scenes it was god, but on stage, it was just a shadow.

The shadow disappeared without a sound, and in its place was the necklace the blademaster had searched so hard to find. Knowing exactly what to do, he took it up and placed it around the neck of the princess. Her hand immediately went to her throat and lightly fingered the necklace, smiled contentedly.

Around the blademaster, the scene began to fade, until there was nothing left in the room but Phoenix himself, Lighteria’s scattered cloud of orbs, Suzaku, and a small box in the middle of the room.

Library

Nighthand and the others in the library watched as two of the four giant books swung closed of their own volition; the Sun and Moon rooms appeared to be complete. Two down, and two to go.

-----------------------------------ooc
Time for some bullet points.
-Some of you know, some of you may not, but Senna has left Main and started over as a new character, so, she’s not here anymore.
-Rayo, if you’re reading this, You’re on the verge of lagging out of this quest. I’d suggest either a post, or some notification to me of what’s going on, since I haven’t seen you around in a while.
-Now that I’m home, I’ll be able to post more often. I’m going for once a week again, for now, since it’s just getting off a pseudo-hiatus and whatnot…. So yeah. Next post Saturday, is my intention.
-Inside the small box in Zan’s room is a small moon symbol made out of blue glass. Inside the small box in Phoenix’s room is a small sun symbol made out of red glass.

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

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PostPosted: Mon Dec 17, 2007 6:56 am 
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Ikkitousen
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Location: Hiding in the shadows
He was greatly appreciative of the fact that he was not alone in this room. An electrified sword slid neatly through the narrator’s body, cleaving the shadows as if they weren’t even there. The boy flinched, as much as he could in any circumstance in his present circumstance, but the Rai didn’t end up coming close enough to him to warrant any extra worry. A second attack split the newly-reformed shadows again, but this time, a sweeping claw ripped through space, sending something cascading into the wall that Zan had flown into not moments before. Whatever it was shattered into tiny pieces, and that was that. The narrator became simply lifeless, before disappearing with a small pop that yielded the sword that had been the object of their searches. Not wasting time as the Long Arm plopped down on the ground, his legs betraying him, Zan snatched the sword up and fastened it to the King’s side. Life was no long frozen. The King seemed reassured by the blade by his side. The horn was blown and the soldier rode off into the morning. The scene rode off with them, slowly vanishing away leaving the bare room again. And a box. The boy, having regained his composure, poked the box open, and snagged the small glass carving. A tiny blue lunar symbol was dropped quietly into the safest pocket of his vest before he had gotten the hell out of the room. He popped back out into the hallway, and headed back toward the library. Progress report time.

He slid through the giant oaken doors and largely ignored the players stationed there. They made no effort to approach him, he made no effort to approach them. At the back of the room, half of the huge librams were no closed, their purpose fulfilled, they had no more reason to remain open to the wondering eye. The Long Arm stationed himself over the closest open book, and situated his mind to memorizing the thing. It took quite a few moments, but he had finally committed the star book to memory, and now that he knew what needed doing, hopefully he could move along quickly.

He repeated the story to himself, mumbling along as he paced down the hallway and took the turn to the appropriate hallway and pushed the star door open. He walked into the middle of something. Whatever that something was, was lost upon the boy as the scene reset. The scene materialized around him, the balcony of the princess and the princess herself above, her outstretched arm reaching above, the night sky framing it as the stars twinkled above. She reached out for the . . . Bingo. No moon in the sky meant they had a problem.

It was about that moment that the singing started. At once, he could see for himself something that could not be fully explained in words. At once, he found himself a place far, far away. Wherever it was, there was an exotic lushness to it. Things were peaceful, and different, the beach lapping up at the sand having its own sense of being. He could envision the sand of the beach mingling with the sands of the desert down into the desert town made of various grainy materials. The rings of buildings framed a giant castle, this made entirely of sand. The entire scene seemed vivid and exotic, much to an extent that he could almost imagine himself completely immersed it in.

But this was not to be, as the song slowly seemed to drift away, the importance seemed to fade. The scene in his mind slowly started to lose its gleam and magnificence, slowly seemed to shimmer and fade, seemed to become transparent until once again, he was back in the night-ridden courtyard. The prince’s song was stuck on an eternal loop, its power of a place far away lost on the track of repetition. It took him a moment to be freed from the full effects of the song, but only a moment. He shook his head to clear it. Moon. Moon. Time to get things underway.

”Narrator, narrator on the wall, come out of hiding and put the moon back in the damn sky.”

"And just why should I do that?" It was almost a singsong voice, it seemed rich and vibrant, harmonious in its approach.

”Because I said so comes to mind. But alas, you’re not likely to listen that logic so how bout this. Because if you don’t want to play, you go hungry.”

"I don't need to play nice to feed. Besides, after seeing what you've done to my companions, I feel quite the loss of appetite." He wasn’t quite sure, but he might have detected a slight loss of musical quality.

He sighed. Damn, not quite as easy as he had hoped. ” Fair enough. Alright, how bout you and I make a little deal. You put the moon in the sky, and I won’t resist, and allow you to feed on me.”

"And have one of your friends run in just as soon as I come out, to strike me down? You'll find I'm somewhat smarter than my sinister cousin."

Damn, foiled again. ”Alright then, if you’re so much smarter, why don’t you prove it. Find a way to outsmart me. You win, you feed, and I’ll tell my friends to not interfere. I win, you put the moon in the sky and we all go on our merry way.”

"Go ahead, come up with a challenge, I'll be here all night."

He sighed. Damn it again, this was not working. He had one last idea before he would actually have to sit down and think. ”How exactly is that proving your intelligence, as far as I’m concerned making me come up with the idea only boots my own cause. Unless, you’d like to sit down to a cup of tea over a nice game of chess?”

"You're the challenger here, my dear, not me."

He pondered. What could he do? ”I don’t hope you’d care for an exchange of riddles?”

"I always enjoy a good riddle, though I can't say you'll come up with anything that can stump me. I AM a dreamfeeder, after all. I've lived my whole existence in storybook worlds like this, where riddles abound."

”I can see where that could happen. So how bout we up the stakes on a single riddle. You come up with a single riddle, I get three guesses. You stump me you feed, I get it, you put the moon book. Does that sound better?”

"Hmm... How many fingers am I holding up?"

He halted for a second. ”How many fingers do you even have?”

"Well that just makes the riddle more interesting, doesn't it?"

He grunted. ”Four?”

"Wrong! Guess number two?"

”The number of fingers you are holding up is less than or equal total to the maximum number of fingers you have. This includes the situation that would mean you had no fingers, which would mean you were holding none up, it would also to do serve that if you had 100 fingers, you would be holding up 100 or less.”

"Nice try, nice try, but saying 'You're holding up as many as you're holding up' isn't the most valid of answers."

”But it’s the right answer. I don’t remember the requirement for a specific number. Besides the fact, that you could have an infinitesimal amount of fingers, or none for all I know, means that you could be changing it at will, since after all you are essentially shadows. Therefore, my not-so-valid answer according to you is a legitimate right answer. Now if you would kindly put the moon back in the sky we could move on, or you could come out, and we could settle this like good old fashioned gentlemen.”

"Oh ho ho, aren't you the pushy one. Well then, will this do?"

A moon appeared in the sky, yet it wasn’t quite what he was hoping for. The giant impending lunar object threatened to fall out of the sky and crush the entire party. And yet, nothing happened. And the boy realized his mistake. ”I see my mistake. You win round one I suppose. Alright, fair and square, let us settle this old-fashionedly. An arm wrestling contest. Something physical, since it almost appears that I outwitted myself.”

"You really do need an ego boost, don't you? Arm wrestle a shadow..."

”I don’t know that I have much of a choice. I need to get you out here somehow. Why not futility?”

"I don't know... because it's futile, maybe? Here, how about this."

The narrator showed himself, finally, and he had an air of regality about him. Well, he did as well as the hundreds of other ones that seemed to spawn out of the room as well. The boy tried taking a different approach.

”You seem to be much more intelligent then your . . . cousin you said? Let’s try this a different way. I’m sorry for my belittling talk earlier. What would it take for me to obtain the crystal you possess?”

"My death, plain and simple."

”And I doubt that you’re beckoning your death enough to tell me which one of you is the real one?”

"Of course not."

”I didn’t think so. Shall we get started then?”

The tip of his spear followed his sentence, hoping that perhaps that he was lucky enough for the real narrator to be in front of him, no matter how much he doubted that it was that easy.

His blade sliced right through a cloud of smoke as the narrator puffed away. The greasy odorous slinky grey shit filtered into his nose and mouth, clogging his throat and sending him into a set of hacking coughs. A close examination of himself would reveal reduced health. It was only by one, but if he didn’t get lucky and get the crystal early, his health would drop rather significantly. Oh well, guess he better get started and pray to Wryneck that he got lucky.

He waded through into the thickest clot of the narrator-copies he could find. ”Shall we dance gentlemen?” His blade glowed as the Vak Repulse whipped his spear around, slicing through as many narrators as he could get inside his grasp.

Each one of the narrators disappeared into more of that smoky shit. Nine at a time didn’t work out well, as tit seemed to clog every pore in his body and smother him. His coughing fit lasted much longer and each hack seemed to burn and sear his lungs. One of the copies stopped the last shred of his attack and spoke out.

"Did I mention, the more you kill, the worse the penalty?"

When the boy had regained his breath enough to talk, and after he watched the additional 81 points drop from his health, he spoke. ”You forgot to mention that. So . . . Quick question. Which one of your cousins did I just finish dealing with again?” The question was voiced to the entire room, maybe one would answer him.

"The hunt."

The motherfuckers. They were all shades, or copies of the real one. There was no way signal out the real one like that. He had to think. Harder than he had been. He sighed in exasperation. ”Which one are you? There is no real way I can guess if all of these seemingly are you, just shades of you. You could answer the same way. What would it take for you to reveal the true you?”

"You just have to fight. be thankful I'm not attacking."

”Fair enough, and even though its slightly strange, I respect that sense of chivalry.” There would be no mass attacks. He would dispatch them one by one. Even if it took forever. His next attack aimed to cut the closest apparition from shoulder to . . . to where his knee would’ve been.

His execution was flawless, the targeting was not. A pair of shades joined in their compatriot’s demise and more smoke then was intended filled his lungs again. He finished his hacking, and made a quick adjustment. The next shade was approached very close, the boy’s hand sliding to the very neck of the spear. Using as little movement as possible, he sliced upward from what should’ve been a midsection, holding the blade as close to him as possible.

He succeeded in taking the one out, but another one, rushing at him, slammed straight into him, driving them both to the ground in a heap. The boy was starting to get agitated, and that was when a plan formed to him. Kicking the one shade off of him, not caring if he killed it or not, he leaped back to his feet with a shout. ”YOU ALL WANT TO DIE. COME THEN, GATHER AROUND!” His gripped his spear, and waited for the shades to come running out. ”VAK –“ He stopped the skill just short of its activation. If he could bait the shades into rushing to their deaths to kill them, theoretically, one would remain back to protect the crystal. And that would be the one to launch a Gan Don at from across the room.

The idea paid off to a degree. Thirteen total shadows hung back as the rest rushed forward. They quite literally encompassed him, not even his height could have saved him, his vision blurred by the bodies of the shadows and their red gleaming eyes. He attempted to shout out through the crowd of bodies. ”I can say that we’ve narrowed it down to those thirteen quite honestly. What say we cut the crap and this junk in the middle just goes away?”

The voices decided at this point, to play leap frog, bouncing every few words from shadow to shadow. "What makes you think-" One. "-I'm in the back?" Two. "Besides." Three. "Are you sure you can handle-" Four. "-that much smoke?" Five. It was time to stop playing games. ”At this rate, I’ll nuke the entire goddamn room, split every single one of you open and get smothered by the smoke. Somebody else in this party can take care of the moon and gem after I obliterate the hell out of you. So yeah, I guess I can handle that much smoke.”

The shades in the immediate vicinity leaped backwards as a warning was hailed from the crowd. "I'm giving you a fair warning; what you're doing may be suicide. If you hadn't noticed, this is me feeding off you, indirectly. When you hit zero... your soul becomes mine. The virus inside you relinquishes it to me."

The boy didn’t care, he was too frustrated to care. ”Then I’ll burn in hell along with the rest of you. Suicide it is then, if I can’t find you and kill you in this process, then I wasn’t good enough for the freedom fighters anyway. Time for you to die.” He levied his spear and prepared to charge, not before halting in time for a flashmail however.

Quote:
From: Raquar
To: Star Room Occupants
Subject: Narrator
Message: So, the narrator is one of these shadows. The four of us combined have enough manpower to take out the rest of these guys and destroy the crystal the real one is hiding. But I need your help to do it. Be warned though, each shadow destroyed lower your maximum health by an exponential amount, the more you kill, the more health you lose. Between all of us, we can all get by okay and still get rid of the crystal. I can’t do it alone though. Worst case scenario, I’ll back out and come back in, and start this process all over again.


All he could do was hope and pray to Wryneck for some help.

_________________
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)


Last edited by Raquar on Wed Dec 19, 2007 4:33 am, edited 1 time in total.

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PostPosted: Wed Dec 19, 2007 12:31 am 
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Zan, after the events of the Moon Room, made his way to the Cross Room. He studied the scene laid out before him, going over its details with the ones he recalled from the entry in the Cross Book. There were small changes here and there, but most of them seemed too minor to mention. It was only when, a third thought process around, he was pondering the wine again that he figured it was a worthwhile attempt. After all, a lack of such a presented gesture had to be siginificant enough to be what needed the progression...right?

"Oh narrator...the Prince hasn't presented the wine. Tsk tsk."

There was a slurping sound followed by a hiccup. "Oh darn. I guesh more for me!"

It stood to reason that this narrator would work like the rest, would only want to feed, and it's interesting little dialogue seemed to confirm his theory. "I hear you like to feast on the players you come across, my friend. I'll give a chance to feed on me - I'll even shift so you have nine and a half feet of bubbling, boiling energy - if you win. If I win...you put the bottle and place and the story gets to move on. The specifics of the contest...well, you're not afraid of a competetion of might, are you? Little ol' me versus big bad you?"

"You people... all alike, all alike." There was incoherent mumbling for a few seconds. "You know if I feed on you, you can't move. I know if I show myshelf, you'll kill me. I'm shertain you have backup. Sho. I think I'll jusht shtay here. Wanna drink?" A goblet of wine, though not what he needed, appeared next to him.

Nulus stood silently beside him, contemplative and confirming the narrator's suspicion. Zan saw the wine...and wondered. "Well, how about this. We have a drinking contest. Whoever passes out first loses." Could it even get drunk? "I'll even ask my partner here to vacate so, should I lose, he won't interfere in your feeding. How's that sound?" The Lycan didn't find it necessary to mention his metabolism made it really, really difficult - he imagined, anyway - to be effected by alcohol, as it was something that usually effected the blood.

"Hm. I shupose. I DO like my wine." The narrator, an obese, shadowy creature, appeared in the room along with a bar lined with high-quality wines. "Go ahead. Down a bottle." Words that were followed by the narrator downing a bottle of his own.

Zan smiled, a certain confidence beginning to build...until he saw the manifestation down a bottle of wine like it was absolutely nothing. Son of a bitch. Still...as he had thought of before, he wasn't without his own advantages. It looked like the contest would be an actual challenge. Taking the offered bottle, the werewolf tilted his head back and chugged it down, the taste lightly biting its way down until Zan was finished. Other than the slight nausea - he hated the taste of wine - the player was still more or less unaffected. However...that didn't mean he couldn't act otherwise. The Heavy Blade's lips tilted into a tipsy smile.

"That's some good..." He mimed a hiccup the best he could. "...wine. I hope there's more."

"There's always more." The drunken slosh in his speech was gone. The first bottle for both didn’t seem to actually effect them. By the way... this is some special wine. There more than one way to fall over." The shadow grinned (as best a shadow could) and downed another bottle.

Zan wasn't so easily intimidated, but he still took the words to heart and fair caution in turn. "Well good. I wouldn't want this to be boring now." The Lycan's second bottle was taken up, slowly brought up to his lips in a fashion that allowed him to smell it first. Hopefully, if it was familiar, his senses would pick it up. A pause...and his second bottle was consumed.

The wine, while not smelling off at all, hit him like a truck. Instantly woozy, he knew his metabolism would keep it from killing him with alcohol poisoning, but that was about all he could say. It was a race; would his consciousness leave before or after he hit the floor? The narrator laughed. "Drag your master to the hallway if you want him to wake up this week, and when he does, tell him that was fun. We should do it again some time."

Nulus, mumbling about how Zan ‘isn’t my fucking master’, heaved the Heavy Blade out of the room to regain consciousness. The lycanthrope had been unprepared for the force of it, for the strength of the stuff, but he wouldn’t be when he woke. If the hangover wasn’t too bad, he’d try it again.

_________________
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 Dec 20, 2007 12:18 am 
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Well-Oiled Machine
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"Well. That was certainly a difficult battle." Lighteria states bluntly, his hands at his hips.

"Yes it was." Phoenix states equally as blunt. "We most certainly came close to dying there."

"Indeed." Nighthand says, suddenly appearing at their sides. "It's a good thing Kit was here to save us."

"Oh yes definitely." Lighteria states in complete agreement. "She saved us all for sure."

"Let's give her some milk!" Zan suddenly states, carrying a milk can half his size.

"And a ball of yarn that never unravels!" Raquar suggests, producing said yarn ball.

"Mew! Mew! Mew meow meow. Mew mew MEW meow meow mew mew mew. (Wonderful! Wonderful! Such kind gifts and words. There's only ONE thing that could make this truly perfect.)" Kit says, holding up her paw for effect. "Mew mew mew- (And that is-)"


*SLAM*

The Sun and Moon books close shut. From her nap place on a chair beside the table, Kit lets out a violent hiss as she springs to her feet, the noise waking her from her nap. Her head darts back and forth, hair standing up on her back, looking for the source of the noise.

"Mew mew-? Meow-? ... (What the-? What was-? ...)" She glances to the table and the unsettled dust cloud next to the now shut books. She stares at them for a second to take in the situation. Once that's done though, she lets out a long, sad whine.

"Meeeeeeeew!! Mew meow mew meeeeeeeew! (Noooooooo!! It was just getting gooood!)" She whines, the hair on her back settling down. With a pouty face she drops down from the chair and lets out a sigh, her tail swishing back and forth.

Mew mew mew? Mew meow mew. ...Meow mew mew mew. (Well now what? My nap is ruined. ....Maybe I'll check on Lighteria.)

And thus Kit leaves the library and heads towards the Sun Room. At the moment though, Lighteria is slightly indisposed. Though the shadow has been slain he still remains in the form of an aura, the orbs leaving the blank room to simply glow a soft red hue. By their own volition, the orbs swirl around Phoenix and Suzaku a few times, being the only things to boost in the room. The light show ends after a few minutes though, as Lighteria begins to sense the battle being over. Slowly, the orbs float towards one spot in the room, each one glowing brighter as they come close to each other. It only takes a minute or so before the orbs shine brightly and collapse into each other in a quick flash of light, leaving Lighteria sitting on the ground.

"...Did we win?" He asks meekly, looking a bit confused as to where all the scenery went to. Kit wanders in at about this time and walks over calmly, sitting on his lap.

"Mew mew. (Back rub.)" She mumbles, curling up and shutting her eyes. The twin blade blinks and sighs inwardly, rubbing the fur on her back.

_________________
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: Sat Dec 22, 2007 3:20 am 
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After putting the necklace on the princess and watching the scene fade away, Phoenix noticed the box and opened it. Inside of the box contained a small sun symbol made out of red glass which he immediately took into his possession. It was the item that he was searching for in order to open the final door on the second floor. The blademaster was ready to leave the room but noticed that Lighteria’s orbs were still floating around. He decided to wait for him since he was a big help in saving his life. It took a few minutes for the twin blade to reform his body which his pet cat showed up around the same time to greet him. “…Did we win?”

“Yes, it was defeated with your help. I did tell it that it should have left but now we are standing victorious. Well we should head back to the library to see if the others have defeated the other narrators.”

As Phoenix was beginning to walk away, he suddenly stopped and turns around back to Lighteria. “Oh one more thing.” He pulled out the Health Drink that Lighteria threw to him in the previous battle and an Artisan Soul. The blademaster tosses them to Lighteria.

“That’s your Health Drink that I didn’t use and an Artisan Soul for saving me and your help during the battle. Thank you.”

Phoenix once again headed for the exit with Suzaku flying right behind him. Thank you, Lighteria-kun. The bird relayed that thought to Lighteria only. The blademaster and the guardian returned back to the library and noticed that the Sun book and Moon book were closed. So the Moon prize has been obtained as well. Two down, two to go. I am sorry for being unable to help you while your life was draining, Kazuma-sama. I just panicked for some reason. Usually I would help you but I could not this time.

It’s ok, Suzaku. I know that it wasn’t exactly the best thing to do but it was necessary to draw out the narrator. If Lighteria didn’t showed up when he did, I probably would have been dead. We can’t fight alone any longer. It’s why I’m here with them. I know that I can’t defeat the Elites by myself. So let’s go to another room to help out.

Are you up to it, Kazuma-sama? You might still weak from the attack. I’m fine now. I can fight a lot better now than earlier before. So let’s go.

Phoenix and Suzaku exited the library and headed back in the direction of the Sun room. When they arrived in the hallway where the Sun and Cross rooms were at, they found an unconscious Zan and his shade, Nulus. The blademaster could tell that he collapsed from drinking a bit too much and rather not be around when he woke up. Suzaku, let’s check out the other room. I rather not find out be around when Zan wakes up.

The blademaster and guardian left the western hallway and made their way to the other hallway. The Star room was opened and they peeked inside to find Raquar fighting a bunch of narrator clones. Phoenix observed the fight outside of the room and noticed that the smoke from each defeated clone was weakening him. So Kazuma-sama, what are you going to do?

I don’t know, Suzaku. I don’t know what will happen if we entered the room and how the story will reset. Also if we enter, the added presence of us will reduce the remaining supply of oxygen. I think Raquar is trying to find the real narrator but not succeeding that well. The best course of action is wait out here and support him.

Flashmail

To: Raquar
From: Phoenix

I’m outside of the Star room right now. I will be out here if you need to retreat but for now, I’m going to give a breath of fresh air.

End Flashmail


After writing the flashmail, Phoenix raised the Bloody Pain above his head and swung vertically twice for the Wind Blade. The blades went in front and behind of Raquar hoping that he could breathe a bit easier. The blademaster was not sure if the Wind Blade will have any effect on the smoke but if the attacks could take out a couple of the shadows, then it was not wasted.

_________________
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 Dec 22, 2007 8:36 pm 
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Elevated Player
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Joined: Fri May 12, 2006 3:09 am
Posts: 63
Location: Wherever I'm needed.
I had drifted off after my flashmails, lost in my own waiting. Distractions passed through my mind at a lazy pace, and I moved from one useless thought to another with ease and no real sense of urgency. It was a state I was rarely in, one without worries or cares, but it was soon to be interrupted, to my great dismay. The Sun and Moon books closed themselves sharply, and I awoke from my semi-dreamlike realm with a minor start. It was then that I realized I hadn't received a response to any of my flashmails, and I cursed myself silently for my ignorance. Though the sound of an arriving flashmail would have likely woken me from my daydream, the lack of flashmails was just as important. Despite my anger at myself, however, I quickly attempted to move on and assess our current situation.

Zan had just been dragged out of the Cross Room and was passed out in front it, having apparently tried and failed to solve its puzzle just as I had. How the narrator had incapacitated him I didn't know, but it did make me feel slightly better about my own failure. Lighteria was still waiting in the library, though he seemed slightly stressed. Perhaps he had found some way of helping those in one of the rooms from his position here? I had been too out of it to notice if he had. Senna was... where was Senna? She hadn't seemed like she was going to enter another room, but... maybe she had? I didn't know. Phoenix stood outside the Star Room, apparently observing the events within and apparently providing some aid to its inhabitants, of whom I could only think of one for certain: Raquar.

I thought for a moment and my next course of action seemed clear. I'd been unable to solve the Cross Room, as had Zan, so perhaps bringing others to the room might help us get a new angle on the problem. For now, the Star Room seemed to be where I wanted to go, since solving that puzzle would allow us to bring everyone to bear on the Cross Room. But Phoenix stood outside, presumably with some kind of reason for not entering, and that gave me pause. He was a more experienced member of the group, and knew better than I what benefits and dangers there were in adding another body to a given situation. He was also more powerful than I, making it less risky for him to join any given battle. Given all of this, I would have felt incredibly awkward and foolhardy rushing past him to join the battle, but... Raquar was in there. I couldn't just abandon my newfound friend, like....

Like I felt Dien had done to me.

That thought hit me like a ton of bricks, and I stopped thinking about anything else. That was how I felt, even though I knew somewhere in my mind that he had never meant to do any such thing. But he had been my one real friend, the one person whom I could really confide in, and the one person who could serve to help me fit in within this motley assortment of fighters I now found myself doing everything I could for. Maybe if he was around, myself and Zan wouldn't be so... on edge with each other. And maybe I would have had someone to stick with me against the Devil, someone who could reel me in if I had been drifting off. But he simply wasn't here. He was gone. And I... resented him for it. For leaving me at the mercy of myself. And I was not going to ditch Raquar like Dien had ditched me... and really, all of us. Maybe he had a good reason. But he should have told us.

My decision was made.

I bolted towards the Star Room, rushing right past Phoenix and into a starry night... or at least, it would have been a starry night, if I could see through the thick smoke that seemed to be everywhere. Raquar appeared to be fighting... some sort of shadows that were all over the room, and I made it my job to help him. I slashed at two of them and they quickly vanished, and I felt a slight twinge. I was minorly injured. Had one of them hurt me? I cut down two more and felt the pain grow. I was now down 16 hit points. My next attack was of a magical nature, a Rai Rom that I was careful to target away from Raquar, and it destroyed another four of the things. The pain only grew: I was now down 64 hit points. All square numbers... ah! So that's how this works.... With that realization, I backed off moved towards Raquar, getting close enough to speak to him.

“Got a plan? 'Cause I don't.”

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Slayers
Other level 16+ Twin Blade Weapons
Cougar Bandanna
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Miakita hazu no tasogare ga
Konna ni kirei dato naita


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 22, 2007 10:53 pm 
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Joined: Sat May 13, 2006 3:58 pm
Posts: 288
Location: In da' plains of hell, natch.
(It wasn't working out. He had no idea what it was he was suppose to do with this, and the others weren't much help either. Sekai and Hacorie were, unfortunately, not avid puzzle-solvers. And Canti? He more or less moderately good. He got ideas, funny little thoughts that seemed to make some sense. Not a genius solver overall. It was times like this that he wished that Dien were here. Where was that guy? Probably out working elsewhere. Doing what? No idea. Canti remained in the garden, out of immediate sight while he tried to figure this out. Nothing was coming to him, though. Not yet.)

Canti: What do you think, Rey?

Hmmm? Couldn't tell you, not without seeing it properly.

Canti: You mean you can't? Not a thing?

Call it a privacy screen, courtesy of your hostess.

Canti: I see. That's just fabulous and...what the hell?

What now?

Canti: Scene's reseting. Guess someone walked in.

(Whoever it was...was out of his line of sight. He was still with the prince when it happened. Canti waited for events to unfold before doing anything else. Once the music started its repetition, though, he heard something that caught him by surprise. First off, he hadn't really gotten to know Raquar that well, so the Twin Blade almost thought that someone else, someone not on the team, might've come in. But as he began to hear the exchange between himself and the detached voice in the room, Canti realized...Raquar had solved it. The winged Twin Blade thought it was the prince that was wrong... It was the moon! Figures... It was too bad that the unknown voice was as smart as he was. Canti rather liked its idea of being jumped, because he was there to do the jumping! Ah well... While they were talking, one thing caught in the Twin Blade's mind. Dream-feeder... He didn't like the sound of that. It sounded like something that'd shove him further into his coma, from stable to incurable. That wasn't an appetizing thought... Of course, Canti had to facepalm at the riddle game. You can't expect to win there against an invisible opponent who's making up the rules as he goes along. Especially with...)

Canti: Whoa! Bad moon rising... Or rather falling? No, wait... Not going anywhere. Huh, weird...

(Canti began to get a look at the situation from the garden, being out of the way, but visible as the narrator showed himselves. This wasn't looking good. Fighting a narrator in a story was like fighting god. And while the Twin Blade didn't like god enough to do just that...this was neither the time, nor the place. Raquar began to cut down the narrators as they began to banter back and forth. It was a game of wits. No... It was a gamble. That was more Canti's style. He received the flashmail sent to him, but said nothing in reply. He was right there, watching him. He didn't HAVE TO say anything. So, what'd they have here? A whole ton of Narrator shadows, and only one Canti, and one Raquar. Lousy odds, even if Raquar thought it was alright to work on them all. The Twin Blade wasn't so sure, as he stepped into view near the horde of shadows.)

Canti: I take it this isn't a private party. Same rules apply if I join in?

(The response came from everywhere, and would continue to do so the entire time. He just talked out of all his clones.)

"Of course. Two free meals is better than one."

Canti: Oh, come on. Nothing's ever free

(He said this while looking for any distinguishing marks on the shadows, not really finding any. Then, he pulled knives out and stabbed one, experimentally. Was it Darkness-element? The one he stabbed into poofed into smoke...as well as a second one that dove onto his blade before he could retract it, causing his max HP to drop by 4. Damn, these were fast! Not only was he finding the needle in a haystack like a bad Naruto episode - redundant statement - but the haystack was going kamikaze on him! Also... An exponential drop? Damn... After that, though, he looked at...uhhh...them, curious...)

Canti: Gotta ask, though... Why shadows?

"This is just what we are."

Canti: Does the real you explode as well? I'd hate to buy it when I'm three steps from the finish line.

"What's to say this isn't the real me?"

Canti: Offhand...

(He looks at all the shadows, at their sheer dubious numbers, then looked up.)

Canti: Me.

(The Twin Blade didn't buy it. The words "Shell Game" kept appearing in his mind. He couldn't help but think it was just all a big trap, that their host wasn't even trying to be honest with them. The moon was out now, and these shadows were here. He had overlooked the moon before. What if it was ALWAYS the point? So...he spread his wings and flew up towards the moon! What? Attack a moon? Eh, why not? Sometimes crazy works.)

"I may control this whole world, but it's still just a room to you."

(The Narrator said that about one second before Canti smacked his head on the ceiling. He didn't plummet, though he had to regain control there for a second, staving off blurred vision. Okay, so...the moon wasn't reachable. The Twin Blade knocked on the ceiling and...yup, that's a ceiling alright. Funny thing, though... He looked down, wondering if he had any shadows, or Raquar, or even the Narrators. Did the moon cast any real light? Turns out it was too dark and too obscured with blurring narrator forms to make out any shadow or lack thereof. The faint light was eaten up by those guys and all the scenery, making a downright eerie setting. So, no obvious details from above, then. Too dark. Though... If he wasn't lying...and he really was just a load of shadows...then the trick was being able to find some way for him to expose himself accidentally or on-purpose, to prove that he was either one or all. As soon as he knew that much, the rest would fall into place.)

Canti: This is probably a dumb idea...

(More said to himself than anything, Canti suddenly dove and pulled out his Fuse Blades. Then, upon reaching the ground and shadows, he attacked with Thunder Dance, observing the effects, elemental or otherwise. Hell, if the flashes of electricity allowed him to see some detail out of the darkness, that'd be something. The only result he got, though, was the death of more shadows as they rushed to their doom, one after another. The attack proved more dangerous to Canti than to the Narrator, as a total of 10 of the creatures popped into their odorous smoke, resulting in a net HP decrease of 100. The odd thing about that was that 10 creatures was exactly the number he thought he'd kill in doing that. In any case, it was important to see what would happen, to know if any special effects were involved in this battle. Thus far, it looked like the answer was a resounding "No". At this rate, the Narrator would be a well-fed beast. Errr, wait a second... There are alot of these guys, but they were dependent on him killing them... Putting away his knives, the Twin Blade stepped over to a shadow and attempted to shove him over with his foot into another shadow, using the flap of his wings to back up strength and leverage. The Narrator was being very passive-aggressive. So, what happens if he even inadvertently hits 'himself'? The answer was..........nothing. The pushed-over shadow and the target shadow both simply merge once more with the crowd after being displaced. Canti looked at this oddly, still hovering.)

Canti: Well, I'll bite, shadow-man. Why didn't you explode? Aren't you hungry? If all it takes is 'poof', then why aren't you dusting yourself?

"I'm enjoying myself. Besides, if I wanted you dead, I could just flood the room with the smoke. Or with fire, or blades, or solid rock and let you suffocate."

(Ah, of course. He was a sadist. Yes, that explained everything. Canti crossed his arms and mocked him.)

Canti: Well, I don't think you're actually in there. You just want a free dinner and theater without even risking a thing.

"Is that really what you think?"

Canti: Y- SHIT!!

(He felt a hand brush the back of his neck, cold as the grave, and immediately all his attributes dropped by 5 as he's sent into shivering chills. When the hand was gone, the chills faded, and the creature once more dispersed in the shadow crowd. Holy shit... If that had been anything like a real ice attack, he'd've had more to worry about then the jibblies. Of course, maybe it WAS, since he felt a little weaker all of a sudden. Great... So it was a friggin' ghost. Or at least, that's what the REAL him felt like. However, after he regained himself, Canti smiled.)

Canti: Thanks. I was worried you might be the kind that's afraid to get his hands dirty. I really hate people like that.

(And now, he had another idea. He could never forget that sensation, now that he felt it. Still a couple feet off the ground, the Twin Blade began to roam amongst the shadow, crowd, swatting or booting them here and there. If he was right, then the only way to actually FIND HIM was to feel that cold chill once more. It was a decent clue, one that'd probably work. The only problem with it was this... Try as he might, there were just too many of them. Add to that the fact that the crowd was constantly moving and shifting around him as he moved, and it virtually guaranteed he could wander endlessly for naught. At least, not without a little help. This was where Raquar's call for help would come in handy. Raising himself higher to see the whole crowd, Canti kept an eye on them while composing a message to the others.)

TO: The Party
FROM: Canti
SUBJECT: The Narrator Situation.

Okay, like Raquar said, we've got a bunch of shadow-guys in the Star Room that seem to be hiding the real guy. I tried a bunch of ideas to try and distinguish him from the rest and I THINK that I've got something. I told him he wasn't real and felt his hand on the back of my neck. He's like a ghost. I don't know for sure, but the real one might have that feeling if you get close enough. The shadows don't seem to have it, themselves, but the only real way to know if the real one DOES is to look. What I'm saying, though, is that maybe we don't have to halfway kill ourselves to find him. It's worth a shot, at least. He's not even interested in fighting back. Of course, if I'm right and he realizes the jig is up, that might change. Either way, be careful here.


(From there, Canti just kept an eye on the masses, just seeing if they actually did anything out of the ordinary. He needed some help on this, but the right help.)

OOC: And that's the last from me until after the New Year, because I won't be able to get online after the 25th. Sorry for taking this long to do anything. I was basically stumped.

_________________
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 Dec 24, 2007 3:51 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...
Phoenix's dual wind blades served no purpose that those inside the room could tell. Given ample enough warning of their entrance, the narrator found it a simple matter to move all of his clones out of the way of the blades. It would have made a comment about the uselessness of attacking from outside what could be called the whole world, save that the comment wouldn't reach the ears of the blademaster. The smoke that Phoenix was targeting was quickly absorbed through the lungs and skin of the player it in turn targeted; the problem here had nothing to do with suffocation. In fact, it was like nothing more than the narrator feeding, albeit in a much slower and less direct manner than that which Canti experienced.

The narrator himself continued to move amongst the ever-shifting selection of clones, keeping a watchful eye on the trio in the room. It could just as easily have retreated to a sanctuary outside the boundaries of the room, out of reach of anything the players could throw at him, but why do that? There was no fun, no honor, and no food in that path for him. He had no more idea how many clones were left than the players did, though if they went on a frenzy of attacking, there'd no doubt be more than enough to drain them dry. Besides, he could always spawn more if he wanted. Or do anything else.

Off in the other remaining room, the bartender shade watched from high above the room, hoping someone else would enter and challenge him to the drinking game. It really had nothing to do with the alcohol itself, though getting drunk would certainly make things interesting.

---------ooc:
Though it looks like nothing much is happening, both rooms are actually close to solutions... though how the next round plays out could change that.

I'll shoot for a post next weekend, but since there's the holiday, if there aren't more than 2-3 posts between now and then, I might set it back another week. Right now I want more people to be posting than to be lagging out.

_________________
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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: Sat Dec 29, 2007 3:11 am 
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Exalted Player
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Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2003 10:42 pm
Posts: 304
After Zhao went into the star room, Phoenix felt that he should leave them to defeat the narrator of the Star Room. Suzaku, it looks like another one jumped into the fray. It reminds of a certain someone. I think that we should go to the Cross room. The new members need to get some experience and fight without help from the more powerful members. Let’s go.

Phoenix and Suzaku left the hallway containing the Star room and walked back to the other hallway with the Sun and Cross rooms. He found Zan still sleeping off his hangover and picked up the Cross Key. The blademaster placed the key into its indentation in the door and proceed into the room. The story began to play out for the blademaster but instead of trying to figure out what was wrong with the room, he spoke out instead. "So, why there's a drunken wolf outside of the door?"

"Why, he was drinking with me, my dear man. Care to join me?"

The narrator appears, rotund and seemingly excited, behind a newly-created bar covered with wine bottles. "Just pick a bottle and drink it down. Your good man out there only lasted into his second bottle... *hic* Fancy that he thought he could drink me under the table.''

Phoenix thought to himself that it was nice to see that Zan could not do everything and have the chance to be the cool one. "Before I decide, what were the sakes between Zan and yourself?"

"Simple, simple as can be! Whichever one of us passed out first loses. Obviously you'd be killing me if I lose... come to think of it, I won, and didn't get my prize! Damn that wolf man and his accursed shade... I had planned to savor the wine-soaked flavor of feeding on him, but that pet of his kept me from doing so. Hmph."

"Fine, I will accept your challenge but you better not double-crossed me or face the same fate of your snake brother."

"Very well, very well, take a bottle and drink!" The spectre takes a bottle and downs it in a quick few gulps. Phoenix proceeded to take a bottle of wine from the bar and begins to drink in a slower pace compared to the narrator. The effect of the first bottle is nil. The wine tastes pleasantly warm and fruity, and only mildly alcoholic in nature. If it's all like this, which it undoubtedly isn't, the game could take a very long time.

It can’t be this easy. I was hoping that the wine was much stronger since Zan fell just after the second bottle. Time to continue the game. The blademaster went for another bottle of wine very soberly and drank it dry. Midway through drinking he experienced a sense of unease, but it quickly passes. Phoenix felt like he just missed something dangerous. The narrator drinks his own second bottle in silence, and remains outwardly unaffected.

Phoenix cautiously picked up a third bottle of wine and drinks it. This bottle of wine brought the same feeling of missing something but it brought along a feeling of drowsiness. The effect passes through rather quickly. The narrator still seems unaffected by the alcohol, but there's very little to give away how he feels inside. The blademaster was now beginning to feel a little tipsy but not drunk yet.

Ok, I should be a bit worry now. Who knows how long I can continue this contest. I just need to hope that fatso will succumb first. The blademaster slowly makes his way to another bottle of wine which was similar to the first bottle of wine. In amazement of still being able to stand, he drinks a fifth bottle of wine. Even though it had barely any effect of the current level of drunkenness, Phoenix was beginning to feel the pressure of the alcohol. He began to realize that he must end this contest very soon or the alcohol will have a negative impact on his body.

The blademaster determinedly grabbed a sixth bottle of wine and begins to see some hope of winning. This time the shadow seems to be wavering somewhat... though whether from the alcohol in its system, or the alcohol in the blademaster’s system, is hard to tell. Phoenix was unable to tell if the shadow is beginning to feel tipsy as he continued with a seventh bottle of wine. This bottle of wine burned as it went down to his stomach. He takes an eighth bottle of wine and desires that this one does not burn like a shot of Jack Daniels.

Instead of burning, this bottle made Phoenix feel very happy to be here drinking with the shadow. With a big smile, he drinks a ninth bottle of wine which had no effect. Due to his growingly intoxicated palette, it was like water to him. The blademaster was feeling that he is at his limit and takes a tenth bottle of wine. Once again, it had no effect on the blademaster and shadow.

Phoenix wanted to continue with the contest but his body took over. He immediately left the Cross room which Suzaku joined him as well. I guess my body was telling me to stop drinking. At least I lasted a lot better than Zan here. Once I recover enough, I will try again. The blademaster took a seat on the floor while impatiently waiting for his body to feel ok enough to drink once again.

_________________
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: Mon Dec 31, 2007 7:57 am 
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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
*Purrrrrrr*

With Kit now perfectly content on his lap, the twin blade looks up, seeing Phoenix's face looking down to him. Apparently with an answer to his question.

“Yes, it was defeated with your help. I did tell it that it should have left but now we are standing victorious. Well we should head back to the library to see if the others have defeated the other narrators.” Phoenix says with surprising composure for someone who was fighting. The twin blade manages a smile, trying to drum up the ability to talk back, but Phoenix turns away and starts heading for the door before his mouth can move. Of course, this presents a whole new dynamic for talking back to him, leaving Lighteria to have to rethink his entire response, buuuut he comes up with nothing, until Phoenix stops and turns back around.

“Oh one more thing.” He says, pulling out the Health Drink that Lighteria threw to him in the previous battle and an Artisan Soul. The blademaster tosses them to Lighteria who catches them with a fair bit of mid-air fumbling. “That’s your Health Drink that I didn’t use and an Artisan Soul for saving me and your help during the battle. Thank you."

"I-..." Lighteria stammers, still on the ground, simply watching him leave.

Thank you, Lighteria-kun

His thoughts jumbled, the twin blade can only watch the blademaster leave the room and head back to the library.

"...There's no need to thank me..." He says quietly to himself, looking down at the ground.

"Mew meow mew mew. Mew mew meow. (You stopped rubbing my back. Get back at it.)" Kit suddenly says, her tail swishing back and forth with irritation. The twin blade blinks at her and mutters, scooping her up in his arms and heading out of the room.

"You know Kit, we really should talk about our partnership here." Lighteria says quietly, carrying the kitten against his chest with one arm, lightly rubbing her back with the other. "I could have used your help in that last fight, but you were no where to be found. In fact, lately it seems you're more interested in getting belly rubs from random lowbies in Mac Anu than you are with helping me." There's a few seconds of silence as Lighteria waits for a response. "...Kit?"

"Zzz.z....."

"...Oh for the love of-" *NEW FLASHMAIL*

Eh? It's from Canti. What's he want?

With Kit resting comfortably, Lighteria skims the flashmail in silence.

I guess we weren't the only ones with shadow trouble. Maybe I can sneak in there and help out?

With no immediate objections to the plan coming to mind, the twinblade sneaks into the library to set Kit down on the nearest cushioned chair and sneaks right back out. The star room is a very short walk away and fortunately, there's no lengthy internal monologues en route in Lighteria's head. Instead, he simply opens up the door and steps inside.

...This is a scene? Looks more like a smoker's convention.

With a shrug, Lighteria wanders up behind a random clone and lightly pokes it in the back with its finger. It turns and glares at him, but doesn't seem to want to attack. The twin blade just shrugs and moves on.

Didn't feel much of anything from that one.

The next shadow isn't very far away, this time he approaches from the side and pokes it again. This time the shadow raises an eyebrow, but again not his fist. The twin blade tilts his head at it and waves.

Maybe I should poke harder...?

"Cootchie Cootchie Coo!" He says, zipping over to another one and tickling the general area of where you'd expect there to be a belly. He feels nothing and sadly the shadow doesn't react by laughing either. Disappointed, the twin blade moves on and tickles another right next to it, provoking pretty much the same reaction.

"Well geez, none of them feel any different..." He says quietly, moving on to another.

_________________
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 Jan 08, 2008 4:49 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
It was all getting highly tiring. He was getting nowhere, Zhao was getting nowhere, Canti was getting nowhere, and even the two mysterious slashes of air proved exactly futile. Canti’s flashmail sparked some ideas but probably not along the lines he was thinking. In this case, the boy simply dropped all pretenses and sat on his ass. He did also, start to speak.

”I’ve just realized something. If we don’t attack your clones, they don’t’ smoke. If they don’t’ smoke. You don’t feed.”

He yawned as the voice spoke back at him.

“Now where’s the fun in that?”

”Exactly. Where is the fun in that? Lets spice things up a bit, make it interesting. You and me, one on one, a la smoke. Turn the clones into smoke as you and I go at it one on one. We put a time limit on this fight. I don’t kill you, I get claimed by he smoke, you feed. I kill you, we get the crystal, and we move on. Plain and simple.”

“Again, where’s the fun in that? They all die in one shot and don’t fight back.”

It seemed like the narrator had missed his point. ”But you don’t do you?” Or did he?

“This could be interesting, interesting indeed . . . Of course, it would be no fun if it was that simple. So . . . how’s this?”

He stumbled forward into the arms of another shadow as something pushed against his back. He wasn’t there long, as that one quickly offloaded him onto another, and then another, and then another. It was like he was at one of those rock concerts being passed around the crowd like he was a fucking rag doll. He didn’t like it, but to admit quite honestly, there wasn’t much he could do about.

”We both realize this is completely pointless right? We could do something more interesting. I don’t know, do you enjoy Karaoke?”

The narrator ignored his singing comment and proceeded on with his little demented game. “Yes, well . . . what happens if your playmates have claws.”

No. He wouldn’t. Three quick slashes appeared in his forearm and gradually over his chest and back as each new push was accompanied by a rather unpleasant stinging sensation. He was getting rather frustrated with the antics of this thing, and his next remark wasn’t essentially serious, it was aimed to be more biting and sarcastic. ”Oh, so they have claws now do they. Do they get teeth too?”

The shadow didn’t bite. “You seem to be missing a point, here. You can’t provoke me. Your intent, to put it bluntly, is to convince me into suicide. I am not stupid.”

It did have a point. It really wasn’t that stupid. ”You’re right. But since playing would be suicide for me, we’re at a standstill. I could simply leave the room, with everybody else, and come in, resetting this entire process. We could go on for days, and days. But since I understand the fact that you're an intelligent sentient thing, I'm trying to work out a compromise. Does that work at all?”

It had a counter for that too. “What compromise can there be, when all you seek is my death? You may leave if you wish. You may return if you wish. I could ignore you if I wish. If it comes down to it, I could bar your exit, or make entry fatal the moment you set foot within. You forget my job for my race. I am a dreamfeeder, yes, and would greatly enjoy to sap you down to nothing. I am employed by the mistress, however, to stop you, to test you, and to see if you have what it takes. Two of my brothers have fallen; two of us remain. Until we four are gone, each of my kind erased from this manor, you cannot progress on your goal.

The thing made sense, unfortunately. That also made his job that much harder. Short of simply walking around pushing shadows over, he was at a loss for the moment. "Wait for me shadow. I'll be back."

He was getting nowhere, time to take a break and recollect himself. He stepped out of the Star Room having made little progress. Perhaps the last room would yield better results. He paced back down the hallway, muttering to himself. He was starting to get slightly grumpy. Most of that evaporated in surprise when he saw Zan passed out outside the door and Phoenix simply sitting there near him. It absolutely reeked of alcohol, the stench so overpowering he was surprised he didn’t get slightly tipsy. Wondering exactly where the smell came from, he pushed open the door and entered the Cross Room.

The first thing to assault him was the smells. He started to salivate almost immediately. It smelled so good. Platters and heaps of foods that he didn’t know and didn’t really care about knowing filled the table. It was funny, he hadn’t had food in so long, and his missed it. In fact, he missed it to the point where he was hungry, not the craving for sustenance, but the craving for his fangs to tear into the soft skin of a deliciously prepared bird, or his molars grinding a chunk of pig into nothingness. Eating was one of the major pleasures of the old world, and hopefully he could try to enjoy it. He paced over to the table, trying to decide somewhere to start, as people rose and stood above him.

But there was a slight problem. If he ate his fill, he would need something to wash it down with. And he couldn’t find anything to drink. He was looking around for some water, or juice, or wine, or something, when he realized that he was the only thing moving. Well, you really couldn’t have a feast without something to drink. It was just illogical.

"Narrator, why don't you set out a bottle of wine around a table so we can have a nice chat."

He couldn’t see the narrator as it spoke to him. "Another one, eh? Come to share a drink with me? The two before you played a game, do you wish to join in?"

"Why not? If you enjoy the drink, I suppose I can try as well?"[/b[

"The rules are simple. "You take a bottle and drink it, I take a bottle and drink it, and the first to pass out fails. Beware . . . the wine here is of all different vintages." This one was fat and greasy, and just seemed to exude a resemblance to some fat old drunkard who bathed in his own sweat. He had appeared behind a bar, with as many bottles of wine as the boy had seen in one place ever. He must’ve really liked to drink.

The Long Arm picked up a bottle and sipped at it carefully. If Zan and Phoenix had both lost the drinking game, maybe there was something he was overlooking. Maybe if he could get the shadow to talk. [b] "Different vintages? Aged? For such a connoisseur, you must have quite the wine cellar."

The creature looked at him mockingly, pretending to swig gently from the bottle before simply throwing it back and downing it like one would pop skittles. "You don't need to care about your bladder, just the booze, don't be so dainty!"

The boy continued to sip, undeterred. [b][color=#292421] "I'm honestly interested. It seems like it would be quite the business. Decently aged wines I've heard taste much, much better. And they sell for quite the coin too."


Apparently the narrator wasn’t interested in idle chit chat. "Drink the bottle if you want to play the game, don't be shy. Besides, I've no need of money here." There was a wave of his hand, and a large stack of gold appeared momentarily on the table. "I make the wine that suits my fancy and enjoy it while I can."

He supposed that was fair enough. He took a bigger swig and placed the bottle on his knee. He had an idea, now it was time to see if it would work. ” Tell me, can you refill this single bottle after I'm done with it?”

“I could do anything I wish with your bottle. Why?”

Bullshitting 101. ”It seems a waste to reuse bottle after bottle. Why not just refill the one I already have?” He took another drink and dropped the bottle to the floor. While it was there, he managed to slip a Health Drink out of his vest and into the drink.

No dice. The bottle disappeared with a quick flourish as the narrator stared at him. “What's a waste, is you tampering with my fine beverage. *The bottle disappears* I can see you don't want to play my game, you just want to outsmart me. At least try to be clever, would you?”

He sighed as the thing dropped down yet another bottle. ” I could be clever, besides for the fact that I doubt I could win. I highly suspect that you could spike ours while thinning the alcohol content in yours to something resembling water. But, to be fair to you, lets do this your way. Come give me another bottle.”

The thing gestured at the table. “You take it from the table; that's why it's there. What, don't you trust me to play fair? Just because I've won twice while your friends lost, is no fault on my own part. At least I have thus far failed to even claim my rightful reward for my victories.”

The thing had a point. Maybe he should start this over. Fuck it, he would just get wasted. If he didn’t win he didn’t, worse would happen in life. ”I see your point. With that, I apologize for my earlier behavior.” He proceeded to take a bottle and start to chug. It took him nine or ten drinks to down the whole thing, but then it was done. ”I apologize if I seem a little slow. I find that I enjoy the taste if I take it in chunks. Where's the good in a drinking contest if you can't even enjoy the taste?”

It was right about then that the wine drove a semi into his skull. He tipped over immediately woozy. The wine had actually tasted pleasant, and didn’t seem alcoholic. But, appearances could be deceiving. Reeling slightly, he clutched at another bottle.

"Cheers shir. Care to preposhe a toast?"

It seemed that thing liked his idea. "A toast then! To wonderful wine, and the many mysteries of life it reveals to us!" They downed the second bottle together. This one didn’t affect him nearly at all, in fact, it tasted like very good water.

” Ah, good shpirits shirrah. But don't forget a toasht to the barkeep! Good shpirits and much wine!” He made a clutching motion toward another bottle. ”Good shirrah, tell me a shtory over thish drink. You sheem like a very cheerful fellow, let ush be regaled with pasht times to share this drink!

The two began to sip that bottle down, in synch. "What to tell, what to tell? A prince proposing a toast to a father to be, bringing wine from his native country . . . ah, but you know that one already." Ah yes, the story of the book. Much to the boy’s surprise. It was the shadow who began to falter before his eyes. His opponent’s bottle slipped and crashed into the ground. "You... ah. Seem to have found my limit, indeed. Indeed..." The fat thing stood up and attempted to lurch toward him. "If I could just have a taste..."

Raq held out his arm. This narrator had been such a good sport. He let out a belch before he spoke. ”Come shirrah. For being such a good fellow, I'll let you . . .”

”Vak Repulshe” His weapon ignited tearing the shadow to pieces and shattering the crystal in the process. Immediately the wine appeared in the prince’s hands as he offered it forward. This scene faded much like its predecessor to reveal a box. Kicking it open and grabbing the contents yielded a cross, of similar make to the moon that he also possessed. This was done, he was feeling good; and rather drunk. He managed to stumble his way back out of the room where he lurched next to the unconscious werewolf.

”Ah, good shirrah, it sheems, *hiccup* that I am shlightly drunk. Not as drunk ash you, but shtill. Drunk enough for fun” Well, it was time to get down to business. He staggered up and down the hall, back to the room he had come from. This, was going to be fun.

_________________
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: Wed Jan 09, 2008 8:43 pm 
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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...
Nighthand proceeded to leave the library at an unusually slow pace, examining the mansion as he went for secret passages and details the others might have missed. It was all to no avail, but his trail brought him to the single room left unsolved. Several characters were inside, fighting in their own ways against the shadows that seemed to be dreadfully easy but horrendous in number. Rather than barge right in, the heavyblade took a moment to read up on the various flashmails he had received and subsequently ignored. He had a lot on his mind… Not the least of which was the glaring question of Why. Why, exactly, was he trying to lead this group around? He didn’t have an answer outside of just because.

Drawing his sword and resting it easily across a shoulder, he walked into the room, drawing immediate attention from both the narrator and his allies as the story reset and replayed. The narrator, save for a small crowd around each other player present, turned to look at him. The crowd of shadows and eyes would have been unnerving, had he been so easily flustered, but that was not the case.

”Well well. An army of shadows, how pleasant.”

“You may not find it so pleasant as I feed… you look tasty.”

”I assure you, shadow, I’m more than you can chew.”

As the shadows began to laugh, Nighthand’s blade arced out and tore through a dozen of the creatures. The resulting cloud of smoke anyone could have told him wouldn’t be healthy, but he didn’t care. He took the loss of 144 hit points in stride. He still had 906 left. Still, to kill the shadows too quickly would sap his hit points too quickly as well, so he was more careful about his swings. Vertical was better than horizontal, as it gave fewer shadows the chance to leap into the way, and skills were right out.

Soon, when it became clear that the shadows were beginning to diminish, the others began to chip in. One by one the shadows fell, exploding into black smoke, depriving the players of their hit points one by one. The heavyblade paid little attention to his own life total; as long as he was careful he would stay safe.

No one seemed like they wanted to talk. No, the time for talk was over. The shadow knew it was nearing its end, but was above bargaining. The group knew their goal and with the addition of Nighthand, had the available resources to complete it.

This continued until, abruptly, it ended. The number of shadows had dropped dramatically; only a handful surrounded each player. All of them were reduced to low HP, even Nighthand, who could seldom avoid hitting four or more at once.

“Stop.”

The shadows ceased moving, and abruptly converged on a point in the center of the room. The party members surrounded the mass of darkness, wondering just what was about to take place.

“I submit. I see you will not leave without my life taken.” In the center of the clearing of shadows, a single one straightened, stood taller than the rest. “But first… DIE!”

The shadow’s arms shot out to either side, and all of his clones warped into black spears, hovering parallel to the ground. A gesture and they flew, tearing into the few remaining HP of each of the players. The twinblades, agile and quick, managed to dodge most of the weapons sent flying for them, but Nighthand didn’t dodge. He took the spears sent for him and lunged for the shadow in the center.

”Juk Smash!” His blade exploded into a six foot column of wind and leaves, thorns and pure natural energy, and he leaped into the air. Somersaulting in the air, he came down cleanly on the surprised shadow, the so-called narrator that had hoped for life in a last-ditch attack.

“I… am bested.” Such were the narrator’s last words.

The moon abruptly was righted in the sky, and the serenade continued to its end. The scene around the party faded, leaving nothing by the box, a box that revealed the fourth and final key. In the library, the final book slammed shut.

There was only one destination left on the floor, a single door none of them had explored before. The lock was simple enough; a four-holed sigil that accepted the crystal emblems perfectly. The door rumbled deeply, as though filled with machinery, before sinking into the ground. Odd, for a door on the second floor of a mansion.

The party regrouped and gathered after a quick and simply walk around the floor. Once they were all together and reasonably well healed, the status changes from the previous fights worn off, they entered the room.

Inside the room was completely blank, just as the other four had been prior to the addition of the story. Only one occupant was in the room… Angel’s pet. The beast was leashed to the ceiling, the handle Angel had once held being attached to a golden hook that glowed with the same energy that had proven to be a shield for them before. The pet, upon seeing the party enter, strained against its leash and reached with clawed fingers, wishing nothing more than to tear them limb from limb.

Once the whole of the party had entered, the golden latch pulsed. Instantly, the pet fell quiet, and a change began to take it over. All color left its body, and it took on a golden hue itself. The once-wings at waist level flattened and warped, turning into large circular creations for more for a mech than a fantasy creature. Other embellishments appeared, boots and gloves with wing-like patterns to them, blade-looking mini wings on each elbow, and a hilariously large hairdo topped it off. It perked up then, a whole new creature, much less feral and much more intelligent.

It was still chained, but how long that would last was anyone’s guess. They would have to figure out its weakness and beat it as quickly as possible.

Before either side could move, a puddle of darkness appeared on the floor behind the reworked pet. It throbbed and exuded a light mist that dissipated inches above its surface. A green tendril, like the tail tip of a long snake, flickered and disappeared before a small black dome appeared. It rose, revealing a more familiar ribbon and medallion, with a more familiar face underneath it. More and more rising, and Marionette’s Guardian was at once fully present in the room, silver cane and all.

”The Master has deemed you worthy of the final test, rather than waste time with Angel’s play. You shall pass through this room unimpeded.”

Before anyone had a chance to move, the Guardian reached out with his silver cane and touched Angel’s pet with the tip. The pet shuddered, wracked by a sudden seizure, and then exploded into flecks of data and color. Guardian, his work done, merely stood and waited. It was clear where they were to go; a single door in the back of the room had been revealed by the scatters of color, and opened on to another staircase, leading up.

Before the group progressed, Nighthand sent off a Flashmail.

Flashmail!
To: Freedom Fighters (present)
From: Nighthand
Subject: A tool.

Since I don’t want Angel watching me, and I think the staircases are slightly outside of her sight, I’ll enter first. As each of you pass me, take what I give you.

They’re small gold slivers; the protective shield that Angel uses likely won’t be taken down so easily this time, so I contacted Raine and had her prepare this. Crack one of these vials open over your weapon as you go up the stairs and you should be able to penetrate her shield. She won’t be expecting it, and we can try to overwhelm her as soon as we’re able.


His flashmail sent, Nighthand nodded a thanks towards the Guardian and entered the staircase. He stopped about halfway up and drew the handful of golden slivers from his pocket. One he immediately cracked open over his own sword. The golden substance inside was like oil, running over the blade and seeping in until it blended and faded away. The others, he held out in his hand and waited for each player to pass in turn, taking their own vial of oil for their weapons.

Once each had passed, the group as a whole continued up the stairs. They found themselves in a long corridor leading off to their left, lined every six inches with candles on the floor, flickering light and thin trails of smoke clouding the hall. At the end of the hall was a 90 degree bend, sending them walking ever further to the right. At the very end of that hall was another door. Simple, wooden, made of a heavy oak and aged for generations, it swung on heavy hinges when they pushed it open.

In the inner room was a blinding array of candles of all types. For a moment it was difficult to get their bearings, to see the room itself instead of all the fire. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves, and the shelves were in turn lined with candles. Each and every candle was lit, lines of fire and lines of wax alternating. Inside the room itself, hanging from the ceiling, was a chandelier of three concentric rings, each covered with candles themselves. Placed haphazardly around the room were other candles; thick blocks of wax with fiery caps, or long thin tapers barely looking like they could balance.

All of the fire lent a soft warmth to the room, while keeping the glare minimal. A thin haze of smoke added to the atmosphere, a light scent of incense riding the back of their sinuses.

On the opposite side of the room was a door that would have to lead to their hub, because directly between them and that door stood Angel herself. She looked angry, stricken, and ready to fight. Her golden shield was on full, her wrist-mounted turbine revved up to full speed, and her blade extended and ready. She said nothing, merely glared at them, focusing all her anger. She had just been betrayed by her master, had her carefully laid final trap demolished in an instant, and left to face the group alone.

She assumed her fencing stance, and waited for the attacks to come, relying on her defense and her skill to see her through.

--------------ooc:
IM me if you want to:
a) see the form of angel’s pet (I don’t have my graphic program on this computer yet so I’m not posting it)
b) script with Guardian, Nighthand, or some other plot-thing.

The golden liquid form the vials affects your weapons as a whole, so you can still switch blades and have them pierce the shield.

This is the final boss for this field, since this quest has pretty much flopped over the last couple months. *grumbles about server crashes and the like* Not that it’s not my fault too for being spastically delayed for random times.

Go here to see Guardian’s picture if you haven’t before.

Aside from that… it’ll be possible to win this field in the next round, if everyone attacks well enough. We shall see. I expect it will probably take several more rounds, when it comes down to it, since the slow pace and the dropping members will make it hard.

Next post… Not sure. Either next Wednesday or the weekend after that, depending on player posts. It won’t be this weekend because of my work.

_________________
My items and such
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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: Thu Jan 10, 2008 6:45 am 
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Ikkitousen
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Joined: Tue Apr 10, 2007 11:04 pm
Posts: 122
Location: Liminality
There was nothing she could do to help, no Flashmail came to ask her assistance and her skills, if she were being generous enough to call them such, were flat out useless. Slumping down against one of the walls in the room, Sekai tried, key word was definitely tried, not to let herself slip back into a funk that would make her even more useless than she was right then. ...dammit, too late. Misery loved company, especially seemed to infect those she was around as she wrapped her arms around her knees and stared blankly at one of the candles providing the only light in the room. Maybe... maybe she just needed to sit and throw her thoughts together, let them run their course and things would get better. That had to be it, that had to be the reason she kept slipping into an unhappy state of mind. Repressing things didn't do anyone any health favors or wasn't healthy in general if she thought about it.

But God did she have so much she so desperately wanted to keep sealed away.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on trying to straighten her thoughts out, to find what she knew she could handle dealing with right then... and what she'd keep away from thinking about and confronting until it was the appropriate time. What was on her mind as of right then... the surface thoughts kept going back to why Kira wasn't there, that she'd have to think about a little more and try communicating with the AI again. The next thing was-

Stumbling footsteps startled her out of her thoughts, amber eyes opening and readjusting to the light as she looked around for the source and found the familiar form of a... rather unconscious Zan being carried over a very disgruntled Nulus' shoulder from the doorway of one of the rooms she hadn't entered. Alarm raced through her veins as the small girl struggled to push herself to her feet and scrambled over as quickly as she could to see what on earth had happened. Timidly approaching once the panic wore off, uncertainty warring with concern as her eyes moved from Nulus to Zan and back again, Sekai tried to choose her words carefully- and added a rather healthy dose of respect when she addressed the Shade.

“Nulus-san, may I ask... um, what happened? Is... Is Zan okay?”

Nulus, mumbling to himself as he hauled the unconscious body from the room, stopped at the girl's question. Readjusting the weight distribution of the slumbering werewolf, he nodded. "Oh, he's fine. Genius here challenged one of the narrators to a drinking context." He huffed. "Increased metabolism or not, he allowed his ego to drop his guard. Didn't realize how strong the stuff was until it was too late to steel himself against it. He should be fine once he wakes up. I don't suspect the hangover will last very long in his body."

The 'genius' part had to have been sarcasm, else... well, Nulus and she had some rather... differing opinions on what the definition of the word meant. A bit of disapproval tinged the girl's expression as she looked up at the sleeping man over his partner's shoulder and frowned at him. Hangover or not, this was a dangerous place and he should have known better. The sound of another of the Freedom Fighters coming out and settling against the wall gave her cheeks a rather dark hue in the dim lighting. Looking back to Nulus, she bowed in thanks and, because he hadn't gone drinking, decided to let him do the scolding when her friend woke up.

“I... um, hope he awakens soon. Will you,”

She hesitated in asking, the prey beneath the predator's eye feeling coming rather strongly, the feral partner to scold him a good one and teach him not to do such things again.

“Um... will you please talk to him about the error he made? I, um, don't want to overstep my bounds and you seem closer to him than anyone here so far. ”

The currently-human Shade couldn't help it; he laughed. "Hearing you say that almost makes me sad. If you knew this guy a little better, you'd realize failure is all the lecture or scolding he'll ever need. Zan will be mentally flogging himself about this long after the Hub is destroyed, little girl."

Cheeks darker in color as she hunched her shoulders a bit at the laugh, indignant embarrassment filtered into her voice as she began to slunk back off into the little corner she'd been sitting in before.

“S-sorry to have bothered you then.”

Back now turned as she headed back to where she could go be embarrassed and return to her thoughts in relative privacy, she couldn't help the muttered comment that slipped out next as she walked away.

“It's why I said you were closer to him and knew him better.”

Settling down with her back against the wall, she tucked her knees back to her chest and rested her chin atop one of them. The one with the large fiery bird and had its namesake as his name looked, well, worse for wear to say at best. Raquar strode into the room next and a near silent groan of disbelief overtook her as she lowered her head down and hid her face in her knees. Nulus-san may have been correct on Zan's metabolism being... well, extra enhanced, but Raquar's for sure wasn't anywhere near that speedy.

How the hell had she managed to get herself into this mess?

Oh yeah, she'd decided it was her duty to try and protect people she cared about without reading the handbook first. The image of one of the book titles in Angel-san's library popped back into her memory; “How to Protect the People YOU Care about the Most in the Most Effective Way Possible... For Dummies.”

For some unexplainable reason, Sekai really didn't find that memory as funny as she'd have liked it to. Minutes went by and still no sign; if he was unconscious in there and passed out because he'd lost too, she'd.... she'd, oh she didn't know what she'd do. Get pissy probably, in Kira's terms, and give him the silent treatment for a while until she was ready to hear an apology.

'...as if I had the backbone to actually carry out such a task.'

Sekai sighed and let her shoulders slump back at the thought. Things just didn't work the way she wished they did. Fighting, Fighting and more fighting. Diplomacy and trying more peaceful and well, less violent and forceful methods in getting what they wanted wasn't even a thought for some of these people. It wasn't quite like the Eventide Crescendo had been, at least they'd been able to try diplomacy if the situation called for it... she wondered what had happened to Nemera... and if they'd been able to find Tiral and get him out of that hellish prison. Kira would want to know about the Rue Crystal... and if things went right, she wanted to be there when they got Tiral back, to apologize for her inability to do anything to prevent his pain and that of the groups.

To apologize for being so very weak and unable to help in the least back then.

Something shifted in the air and the sounds of footsteps snapped her out of near tears at the remembrance of the field where so much had gone so wrong. She couldn't keep thinking about that group of people, even though the currently very drunk Long Arm stumbling out of the room was more than a small reminder of what had happened. Where her shortcomings had come back and her weaknesses had bitten her with all the ferocity of a lion bringing down a small gazelle by the throat. Swallowing her distaste for the alcohol- had he bathed in the stuff?- Sekai walked over and tried to see just how bad off he was when it came to the boy's drunken state.

“Are you okay?”

He looked over at the figure, wait, figures in front of him. They were both talking to him, and funnily enough, they were both saying that same thing. He stumbled a bit as he tried to get closer to the little . . . was that a gnome? who was speaking to him. "I feelsh fine"

She craned her neck to look up at him, trying her best not to wrinkle her nose from the smell before thinking of a way to tell how completely wasted her friend was. Arms folded over her chest, the girl tilted her head a little and raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the slurring in his voice. There was a bit of an odd note in her voice as she replied to his 'I'm fine' with a bit of a challenge.

“Recite the alphabet backwards if you're actually fine.”

What? Why was this gnome asking him to recite the alphabet? Didn't the gnomes already have their own alphabet. He stumbled forward at whatever it was, nearly sending himself sprawling on the florr in the process. " Lesshe. Zhheee. Y. Ecks. Shhh. Queue. Ummmm. Arrr. Bee. And Twelve!"

Something that sounded like a cross between a sob and a laugh slipped out before she could even say anything. A hand clamping down over her mouth afterwards, she turned her back for a moment, sucked in a breath and tried to regain her composure. Biting her lip with enough force to make the flesh turn white, she turned back to the drunken Long Arm and reached for his arm.

“You need to sit down for a little while and wait for the spinning to stop.”

He didn't know what the little gnome making the funny noises was talking about. "Shpinning? What shpinning?"

A growl of frustration escaped her as the all welling up urge to yell at someone for being stupid started to hit the overwhelming stage. Tugging on his arm a little more, Sekai swallowed hard and tried her best to use a rational, soothing voice with her drunken team mate.

“You're drunk. You're not moving in a stable manner and you can't even recite the alphabet backwards. I'm going to designate myself the legal guardian right now and tell you what to do since you can't be trusted to do things right now, okay?”

What? A gnome his guardian? That would be a funny sight. "Wouldn't thatsh looksh kinda funnyish?"

Count to ten and no one would get hurt, she told herself repeatedly and resisted the urge to growl at him. He'd probably think she was a monster and attack her at this rate. She was stronger than he was right now, if worse came to worse, she could just wrestle him down and make him go down dammit.

“Only if you don't listen to what I'm saying and do as I tell you; it'll look even more embarrassing if I have to physically put you to the floor.”

She looked up at him, amber eyes filled with concern mixed with frustration as she pulled on his arm again.

“Are you going to behave or am I going to have to put you down myself?”

He chuckled, a light little laugh. "Shilly little gnome. You're too shmall to shit on me."

Her eyes flashed and her grip on his arm tightened significantly, gritting her teeth as she shifted a step forward and gave him one more chance before she used level advantage to put him to the floor... unless she wanted to knock him out.

“I am not a gnome. And just because I'm small doesn't mean I can't take you down. Either do as I say quietly or I will use force!”

Was the gnome biting his arm? What was it? Oh, apparently it wasn't a gnome. And wait . . . It was female? "Oh. Sho maybe you aren't a gnome. But shtill. It'sh not nice to threatensh shomembody. For shame."

It was going to be a last warning or she's going to give him a wake up call that he wouldn't forget; and feel awful for it afterwards. Forcing a load of bravado and as much malicious intent as she could into her voice as possible, her fingers dug into his arm through his robe and tightened a bit further.

“You should know by now that I don't threaten anyone. I promise what I tell people. Are you coming along easy or am I going to have to get r-rough?”

Kira had never told her being a bad ass was hard. She'd kick her friend later for it, how the rest of them made a threat and all that stuff look so easy was beyond her.

He squinted. It was an actual human being. Wow. That hadn't occurred to him. He cocked his head. "Whosh are you?"

The glare sent up at him couldn't be interpreted as anything but annoyed and clearly Not Pleased with the question. Responding rather sharply and with no form of self-restraint at the moment, the girl replied without hesitation.

“I'm the one who got you into this mess and who is responsible for you in more than one way. Now, sit down and do as I tell you or I'm going to get nasty!”

Oh, wow. Quite grumpy. Instead of sitting down like he was instructed, he simply leaned over and let his weight go, sagging heavily on this little female gnome-human thing. "Ahhh. Mush better."

A squeak left her as she was suddenly supporting a good deal more weight than she was used to. Struggling to keep herself standing, she bared her teeth in a rather impressive display that accompanied the furious snarl ripping from her throat. Fine. He wanted to be a pain in the ass, she'd make him a pain in the ass. Sekai hoped his hangover was a very nasty one and that they'd be making a lot of noise to make the headache worse.

“That's it!”

The smell of alcohol coupled with the anger directed at herself and at the place in general sent her adrenaline into over time. Stupid behavior from someone who'd been so carrying and concerned and careful was just... just... just the last damn straw that broke the camel's back. Grabbing his shoulder, she bent down swiftly and pulled with all her might to heave him to the ground back first. Panting all the while after she felt the body go over her shoulder, though his leg and foot clipped her chin and mouth to split her lip, Sekai stood there with her hands on her knees as she regained her breath.

“Maybe... next time... you'll... use that... damn brain! Now... stay there... and behave.”

He was rather suddenly flying through the air, and then back again on the ground with a huge thump that seemed to jar his entire body. He shook and shuddered with the impact, gritting his teeth in pain. Ow. And then there was the brain that was literally exploding into light. Sharp searing pain thrashed through his skull. Ouch. Reaching out and clasping the leg of this person, he pulled down sharply with all of his might. "If I hash to shtay here. You could at leasht keepsh me shome company." He wrapped his arms tightly around whomever this happened to be; and then the drink took over, and all his sense slowly faded to black.

A high pitched yelp/scream combination signaled her descent to the ground, suddenly trapped and unable to get free due to the death grip suddenly on her person as Raquar succumbed to sleep. Oh, God, she was going to get busted and as such, humiliated beyond belief once someone bothered to actually look over in the corner. If they did. She could only hope they didn't and she could manage to figure a way out of this rather... precarious situation she suddenly found herself in.

Dammit but she wished Kira was here, at least the damn AI would help her... after she was done busting some ribs laughing anyways.

...and he snored too. Hopefully one couldn't get drunk off of fumes alone or she was in as much trouble as he was. If not more.

_________________
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


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PostPosted: Thu Jan 10, 2008 9:45 am 
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Joined: Sat Jan 22, 2005 10:28 pm
Posts: 208
When Zan awoke, sprawled out along the library floor with Nulus hovering above him, all he could do was groan. The moment he had, he regretted it. Doing so had been an added pressure in his head, one that already felt like it was seconds from exploding. It took a second for the werewolf’s logical brain to catch up with the pain and the nausea, but when it did he realized what he was enduring. A hangover. That made him groan yet again and, like before, the regret was instantaneous. Something about the Heavy Blade’s misery greatly entertained the then-human Shade, hardly-contained laughter falling from his lips and exploding like thunder bolts against Zan’s eardrums. The remote few hangovers he had endured in college were nothing like this. Surprise surprise, what he was going through wasn’t normal. With the potent alcohol tainting his blood, his heightened senses were magnified and out of his control. Every movement towards the library was like an endless chorus of stampeding Titans that sought to liquefy his brain and make him go insane. The sheer weight of scent punched him in the face and mingled in a disgusting soup of alcohol, body odor, fear, excitement and a number of other physical and emotional spices. Only the last of his fettered willpower kept him from vomiting. The Lycan, after opening his eyes a second time, vowed not to again. The light was like a sea of flames licking at his irises and, even when his eyelids snapped shut, he could still see it, still feel it…

…but already it was beginning to fade. One by one, person by person, the effects of his dubious hangover were starting to thin. When it finally seemed done and over with and curious eyes squinted carefully open, Zan breathed out a sigh of relief that collapsed him thankfully along the ground to renew his prone position. Thank God for preternatural metabolism. The fucking thing hadn’t helped him against the narrator, but damn if it wasn’t doing what it was supposed to right then. As a matter of fact, when all was said and done, the lycanthrope actually felt better. The wine-induced nap had given his body time to fight the fatigue and other physical ailments the mansion had caused that resisted the magical energy of Repths. Of course, because the universe felt a need to balance itself, it was then that the werewolf had the clarity of thought to take stock of the fact that he had failed the group. It didn’t matter that everyone was beginning to exit the library, to presumably move on. It didn’t matter that that more or less meant the drinking contest had been accomplished by another. He had failed them and that small kernel of truth was worming its way into his skull like chittering beetle eating at his pride.

Ha. I knew it. I told the shrimp that you’d be whipping yourself for fucking up. Now I don’t feel so bad for making her go all quiet and inwardly weepy.

Though, on the outside, Zan made no sign that him and Nulus were conversing, his response was immediate and curious. What do you mean? You talked to Sekai?

Yup. She wanted me to lecture you for drinking yourself into your oblivion. Like she’s your mom or some-

No, she’s right. I should have thought it through more. At the very least, I should have prepared myself better. I guess I just assumed my blood would take care of itself. I am such a dipshit. I should have gone Garou and done it. No way that wine would have taken me then.

You’re doing it again. Isn’t thinking too highly of your abilities what got you spanked by the narrator in the first place?

The Lycan, oddly, wasn’t offended. Bah. Yeah. Thanks.

The ease of the admittance left Nulus stunned and halted in his tracks as Zan and the rest of the Freedom Fighters moved on to the door that had barred itself from them previously. Pieces of crystal or gem or metal, or whatever they had all pulled from the chests were made out of, arranged perfectly within the ‘locks’ of the door and, without hesitation, that same door sunk into the ground. Rather than marvel at the odd motions of it, the Heavy Blade soon became distracted with the sight of Angel’s deranged pet in the center of the new room. A heartbeat later and it was morphing into something even more sinister, if only in a comical way. By the time it had stopped spazzing and resumed some posture of semi-normality, it had grown a nefarious intelligence within the orbs of its eyes. There was no way this fight was going to be easy. Both of them muttering, eerily at the same time and with the same contents, Zan and Nulus readied themselves for conflict…in the same stance. If they noticed it, they didn’t show it (or have time to), Marionette’s Guardian making itself known. The last time the Lycan had seen the son of a bitch, it had been during his little contract with the Puppetmaster himself. Childish panic of his deed being revealed was quelled just as soon as it arose, the Guardian making its purpose known.

And then the pet was dead and the Guardian gone.

It happened so quickly that Zan caught himself blinking to make sure what he had seen was real and not an elaborate construct of his imagination. For once in his entire career as a Freedom Fighter, things had been made easier for them. That alone was enough to have his body riddled with even more tension, if that was possible, and there was nothing he could really do but move on with the rest of them. Nighthand’s Flashmail came then, one the werewolf read with heightened interest for the battle ahead. It put a brisk ‘upper’ in his step, the offered substance taken without hesitation as Zan climbed the steps. Already the stuff was being used, poured over the surface of his Ghostdancer as he pierced the threshold of the next floor. A few candlelit corridors later and the Freedom Fighters found themselves in a room with what could only be called an unhealthy amount of candles waiting on shelves within. It was a raging fire waiting to happen…which might be something to think about later if the going got tough. There was an obvious rage in the mansion’s owner, one probably associated with Guardian’s betrayal (was that what it really was), but Zan couldn’t have cared less. No, already he and Nulus were launched into battle. The appropriate equipment was sloshed around to give him and Nulus activated Ap Corvs and Ap Dos while the Shade, beginning to hum with power, unleashed three inky, green-mist-ridden Wryneck panthers reminiscent of their last fight.

Each beast sauntered into existence and circled her, putting off their assault for a handful of breaths before they twisted and blurred as black masses in leaps of what Nulus hoped were unexpected angles. The sight of them all, even to Zan, was absolutely beautiful. That a summon could seem so elegant and so deadly at the same time was mind-boggling to him for the few seconds he allowed it to be. Beside the power of it, was this why some Wavemasters spent so much time and effort perfecting theirs and why those who didn’t seemed somehow less amongst the staff-wielders? Rayo, back when he had been a mage of some impressive caliber, had seemed as attached to his summons as he was his own life. Nulus seemed to hold onto this same attribute as the massive cats of the Wave of Darkness did their master’s bidding. Zan hoisting his weapon up, the Shade bearing his claws, the duo took a few steps forward to meet the end of the spells when the lycanthrope stopped them both with a rushed, halting thought. Something was wrong, something that had only just occurred to him.

Shit. Shitshitshit. I used all of the golden shit on my weapon. I didn’t give any to you.

Maybe…uh…maybe it’ll just take a second for my claws to catch the glow?

Zan laughed, bitter. With our luck? Please. I only wish there was a way you could still…help…

The idea bloomed and both he and the Shade shuddered. The Merged wasn’t something that was called out of the recesses of their mind casually. Zan almost took it back, almost said no, but looking at Angel…his Beast made him see the obstacle that was keeping him away from saving Lowen. To drown his fear, the Heavy Blade let this anger overtake him, let his subtle hatred for the Elites and all their branches swallow him and quickly yanked down the thin membrane that separated him and Nulus in code. The two figured melded together in a violent force of fusion that, in the end, left a thing in its wake. It was the same creature that the Freedom Fighters had fight ‘alongside’ them when Devil had been fought; pitch black eyes with emerald-glowing pupils, a mouth full of coal-hued teeth salivating tar, hair as dark as the night sky and knife-like fingers of a similar pitch that heralded from Nulus’ contribution. The Merged seethed with physical prowess, with a dark claim to dominion over the body, but…it wasn’t done. Face to face with Angel, it knew Zan’s hatred, knew his Beast’s Rage and knew one stronger. This Hub Guardian, this last stand between the group and bigger and better things would die, but not with something seen before. No, the Merged wanted her to be the first to taste what power it really held. True to its abyssal heart, so convoluted with the negative intricacies of human emotion, it also hoped that the others bathed it in delicious fear and erupted into scrumptious violence like it was only a skip of time away from doing itself.

There was nothing pleasant as it began to shift, to become something Nulus and Zan had feared. As the Merged slowly waned into the Black Garou, it showed its mockery of the original Garou in lethal exaggerations. Though only a few inches taller than the original when the spasms of ripping flesh and breaking, rearranging bones ended, the differences were too vast to ignore. What had been rich soil-brown fur was now coarse and obsidian with a look that made one’s thoughts drift more towards a porcupine than a wolf. Touching it would leave it as normal fur, of course, but that didn’t stop its deceptive illusion. Hunched forward, the hulking beast splayed its two-foot claws in clacking, drumming rhythm along the floor, claws that glowed gold and dripped a dark, viscous liquid. This same tar-like oil dribbled bestially from a maw that seemed almost too big to fully close…and indeed it was. With a shark’s mouth of ink-black, six-inch fangs, its writhing pink tongue lapped at its gums with the same ferocity that its green-pulsing eyes darted all over the room in a hungry scope. Still, as much an animal as it was, the Black Garou still knew Zan’s control and didn’t lose itself. Rather, it focused its frantic gaze on the visage of Angel below and snarled with an octave that seemed as much like the rumble of a vehicle as it did nails on a chalkboard.

And then it was suddenly at Angel, the majority of those (Nighthand and possibly Phoenix excluded) who may have watched it more than likely finding it in one place and just as soon in another. Sacrificing Nulus’s presence as a fighter, the ability to cast and receive magic or do much else but rend, the Black Garou was truly the worst manifestation of Zan’s current bodily power plateaued. Despite its size, despite its rather obvious physical strength, it was still fast as hell and tried to use that in its siege against the mansion’s baroness. Though it didn’t want to hurt the others, wanting too much for them to help it hurt Angel, it didn’t particularly care if it struck one of them either. It could taste her heartbeat in the air on its tongue. Too lost was it in the madness of battle…

Too lost was it in the thirst for blood…

_________________
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: Fri Jan 11, 2008 4:58 pm 
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Well-Oiled Machine
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Joined: Fri Oct 01, 2004 12:59 am
Posts: 176
Location: :noitacoL
Well this sucks... I was kinda hoping the real one would be ticklish, but this isn't working at all.

With his plan failing, the twin blade crosses his arms and sighs, now at a loss for what his next move will be. Sure, he could start attacking the things and whittle the numbers down, but that'd take a great deal of both HP and willingness to endure pain, neither of which he has an abundance of.

Hmm... Doesn't look like there's more than a few dozen. I could split into orbs and try to possess each one at the same time... Not entirely sure what I'd get out of doing that, but it's better than nothing.

As he whimpers at the prospect of having to split his focus that many times and still be relatively accurate, the scene suddenly resets. The twin blade blinks a few times and looks towards the door, seeing Nighthand with his blade held casually across his shoulder and a rather confident, if somewhat jaded expression. Only a few words a spoken before the shadows all laugh out at him. The twin blade shudders at the sound, after all, having most of them laugh at once yet slightly different is an extremely haunting sound... especially since... ya know... they're shadow creatures. The laughs are quickly cut short though with a long sweeping strike silencing about a dozen of the shadows. The twin blade blinks at the sight, seeing nothing but a cloud of deadly smoke puff out where Nighthand was standing. He opens his mouth to ask if he's ok, but a sword swipe up through the cloud slicing two more shadows in half is enough of an answer. The heavy blade doesn't seem particularly phased by the smoke, as evidenced by him still slicing through them. After a moment, the twin blade realizes the shadows aren't multiplying as fast as he's cutting them down.

I was getting bored anyway...

The twin blade shrugs and slips his blade from his belt, twirling it around in his hand for a moment before thrusting it into the face of a shadow he'd just been tickling. It explodes of course, and the twin blade coughs from the smoke inhalation for a moment before moving on to the next one. Though it's a rather painful slog, through enough stabbing and attacking the shadows start dropping in numbers to the point where there's merely a few... though the room is pretty much turned into a smoke fest. The twin blade waves his hand in front of his face, looking for the next shadow to attack when a sinister but familiar voice calls out.

"...DIE!" Is all the twin blade hears in the fog. He blinks, seeing the stray shadow clones morph into spears.

He really doesn't play fair.

Lighteria's heart jumps as what spears he can see fly almost directly at him. The first is easily leapt over, the second and third are side-stepped, the fourth is snagged in mid-air in what the twin blade was hoping would be a dramatic 'twirl and deflect'. Of course, the momentum from the spear yanks him into the dirt, ironically allowing evasion of the fifth, six and seventh spears. As the twin blade gets up from the dirt, he manages to catch sight of Nighthand's blade splitting the shadow in half, the scene and the smoke clearing the room.

Well, that'll take care of that. Prolly best to get Kit and heal up now.

The trip to the library is uneventful, as one would expect. The twin blade finds Kit sleeping again, waking her with a question of narcolepsy and receiving a swipe at his cheek that misses by a mile, Kit being too lazy at that moment to aim right. Regardless, the twin blade scoops the kitten up in his arms and heads for the final door on the floor, figuring he'll rest up while the others assemble. A repth or two is all that's needed for him to heal and his eye catches his SP climbing almost to full when the team starts heading through the door.

Inside is a typical sight, a... 'boss'. Looks like some berserk dog. It's a brand new sight to Lighteria, having not joined in the first battle. Not being a dog person, he holds Kit a little tighter and glares at the yipping monstrosity at the ceiling, already planning an attack in his head that's perfect for a flying mutt. He'd call it "Fetch of PAIN." Before he can embarrass himself though, the floor bubbles with darkness, forming what... LOOKS like gentlemen who tripped in charcoal. Before anyone can attack, the 'man' smashes the dog in a rather surprising display, citing the team simply 'worthy of moving on'.

Not something Lighteria would complain about. He shrugs, starts moving forward and is almost immediately halted by a flashmail. The twin blade reads it quickly and immediately decides that verbal discussion of said mail will most likely be frowned upon. That in mind, he only nods as he heads up the final stairwell, coating the Akatsuki with the liquid, passing by what will be the last door he'll have to be nervous about... hopefully.

"Whoa-" The twin blade says quietly, the visual of candles and the smell of incense washing over his senses. The effect is rather dazzling, yet peaceful... If the twin blade ever got a house somehow, he'd definitely want a room like this to vedge in. Of course, there's little time for reflection. Angel hasn't even spoken a word to the group, but her expression says pretty much everything.

Girl is piiiiiiiissed.

Letting Kit onto the floor, the twin blade can only sympathize with her loss of a cherished companion. Surely, she and the dog were close, it's not like she used it as a pseudo-flail weapon and kicked it at the slightest provocation. Surely, there had been love.

Regardless, the twin blade isn't about to let his OWN pet get smashed up. He motions for Kit to hang back with ranged folks and stay out of trouble. Normally this is also an indication for her to be ready to heal if someone gets hurt, but Kit hasn't actually thrown a spell in nearly any case when hanging back anyway... so really it's more protection than tactic. In any case, the twin blade grips the hilts of his blades and hunches over as though he's about to sprint. A whisper of "Ap Do." sends his feet a tingle as he stares at Angel's stance.

My knee's shaking... I think that means I'm not really prepared for this.
I knew I'd have to fight her at some point, but... I guess I just held out hope that we could just talk it out in the end... Maybe come to some understanding between us all. We're not THAT different, right? Maybe if I somehow appeal to her better side she'll-...

...Omfg, what the heck is Zan turning into?


The twin blade's stance drops as he watches what appears to be a spined, black, giant jaw with a wolf body attached lick its teeth and then pretty much disappear, only to appear in Angel's face. Lighteria's eye twitches at the sight, somewhat disgusted and somewhat frightened... though mostly disheartened at the fact that this too is boiling down to pure violence.

...Ok, screw it. We'll sort out our feelings AFTER she admits defeat.

His shock fading, the twin blade dashes forward with his enhanced speed, veering to the left and behind Angel to try and work out a high-speed flank with Zan's frenzied attack.

In the meantime, Kit, taking his semi-random hand signals as an invitation to find a good nap spot, proceeds to jump onto the top of the nearest shelf where a good dozen candles burn along with two sticks of incense. Like a jungle cat stalking her pray, she immediately knocks over about half of the candles and both the incense sticks onto the floor to make room for herself. That done, she curls up and rests her head on her paw, watching the show.

_________________
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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