Moderator: Nighthand
The time had finally come, the group had, for the most part, reformed within the meeting room. Glancing around, Hacorie began to notice the look of despair in some as well as glee in others. Either way, the entire group knew this quest would be just as tough or even tougher than the last. The Heavy Blade, instead of having the look of anticipation to continue, carried a heavy sorrow within his heart. It was what Senna had said to him previously in the root town of Mac Anu. She exclaimed in a matter of muddled words that she did not want Hacorie to fight with Zan; even though the words were not exact in saying, the meaning was quite obvious to pick up on. She may have believed the fight would be close resulting in either the two characters coming out on top, or it could have just been the group had noticeably been splitting as of late. The interaction which was bound to erupt with the swinging of sharp objects would no doubt hinder the group as a whole even more. However, something needed to be done to rest the angered soul of Hacorie; for his pride as a warrior, he knew the only thing to do was fight Zan. Win or lose did not matter for this fight; though, winning would bring much satisfaction to his ego. Knowing what had to be done, the Heavy Blade confirmed he would have to wait a bit longer. He had to wait for the most opportune moment, where each of the two wanted to destroy one another.
After a few more minor conversations carrying on around him, a few bits of eavesdropping from earlier hit the ears of the Heavy Blade. Raine and Nighthand were the two with such early words which made his ear’s perk up. The conversation did not contain the name of the Heavy Blade, but instead of one of the other leaders of the group: Nall. Even know the character had disappeared at the second hub until the very end. One thing was certain: Nall’s powers had not decreased, he was still as fast and strong as Hacorie remembered from before his absence from the team. His strength may have stayed the same, but his attitude was a little different. The Blademaster used to be hated for his attitude of superiority, but lately he had seemed a little...off to say the least. The words of interest seemed to be that Nall had been asked to go visit another field and do reconnaissance work, so Hac thought, for Raine and Sheena. “So...he won’t be joining us?” Hacorie whispered to himself as he brought one of his hands up to his chin and began to rub his thumb and index finger. This gave the illusion of the normal cliche for thinking. There were now a few things which could not be added up in the mind of the Heavy Blade concerning the leaders. Why would Nighthand be the only one to join us? Is his power going to be enough?
Hac knew what was about to come. 3...2....1... Just as he had anticipated, a single mail box item was confirmed with the normal ping, which annoyed the hell out of the Heavy Blade. If he was still able to access the outside, the first thing the character would do was find the sound file in the game’s folder and delete it or replace it with a song of some sort. Since that would be considered hacking and it was against the game’s code, the true player would probably cop out at the last minute anyway on fear of being banned from the enjoyable escape from reality. All of these things were quite difficult to do since the Heavy Blade was now part of the game. He had no way of reaching the simplistic coding which held the sounds to certain actions or goals. Opening the mail, the character just scanned the text for anything of great importance. Nope, nothing at all was in the letter. Just a vague message about how they would be leaving soon without Nall. Looking over it briefly one last time, Hacorie saw two coupled words of interest: Chaos Gate. It was the rendevous point where Nighthand wanted the entire group to mean before the leave. That is where Hacorie would learn the keywords to the third field, third hub, and third boss. The three keywords formed a cool little phrase, which may have described the great adventure to come.
“Lambda: Muted Illusionary Code.”
The words echoed through the character’s mind as he felt his body begin to tense up. Slowly, the three gigantic rings which bound him to his position descended from above his body and gently glided to the ground while reversely ascending to its original position, disappearing into thin air. As he watched the most basic of the game’s characteristics, the character noticed large black splotches beginning to appear in front of him. Quickly, everything turned completely black and the Heavy Blade’s eyes automatically closed. After being completely isolated from everything, the normal sound of the hideout faded, but was quickly replaced with the sound of birds, crickets, and other woodland creatures. A shiver quickly began to make the character violently shake as he rolled his head in habit. The temperature change had caused his skin to use its warmth protection: also known as goosebumps. It was strange how the human body worked, releasing the noticeable skin agent, even when the latter of the temperature was greater than that of the original. “Oh well, no time to ponder on why everything seems to be out of whack with everything around us lately. If I did, I would be here all day...” Hacorie surprisingly said as he opened his eyes to see he was in an expected place: a forest.
Instead of dawdling around to find any clues on where to go, Nighthand brilliantly picked up on the area and began to lead the group in a certain direction which looked a bit like an intentional path. Walking along the brown clad road, the Heavy Blade, as well as everyone else, noticed a gigantic mansion coming upon the horizons. It seemed to currently be in use since there were a few lights here and there in certain windows. One other large obstacle came into the vision of the group as they neared the home of the field’s protector. It was a gigantic gate which dashed any hopes of continuing any further without using force, but before any member could even try and attack the metal bars, the unexpected was noticed. The large iron door began to creak as it made a grand entrance toward the courtyard of the massive place. Instinctively placing his hand on the leather hilt, Hacorie continued to follow the players while shifting glances to make sure nothing would give them the fright of a sneak attack. To his surprise, nothing came. The group was even allowed all the way to the door. It seemed as if intentional blood shed was being abandoned by the guardian somewhere in the field.
Entering the brilliantly designed house, the group was met with their first actual life form: a woman who just sat in a chair and looked on at them. As time progressed, she started to introduce herself as the one the group had come to defeat: Angel. Even though the group knew what they had to do, no one seemed to move toward any sort of active battling stance. Even Hacorie’s hand left his weapon as he came face to face with the Marionette Angel. She seemed fairly nice and level headed compared to the Marionette Devil Hacorie and Senna killed a few days before. After her brief explanation about how the group could explore the mansion, everyone seemed to split up: some talked to the angel while others just disappeared from the one exit of the room. Having no real questions for the lady, the Heavy Blade began to wander on his own. He had to decide what to do about everything in the room. If the woman was not lying, her image was more or less a hologram. A puppet would fit more into the category since it still had an intellectual AI which shared very personal information on her own status and stance on the matters at hand.
Flashmail
To: Hacorie
From: Marionette
yoU feeL yoU knoW thE traitoR iN youR midsT. dO yoU darE acT oN thiS, oR doeS thaT makE yoU thE onE yoU suspecT?
End Flashmail
Flashmail
To: Marionette
From: Hacorie
Hmm...I really did not have any clue that their was a traitor within our midst. I am quite intrigued by your message though because if a traitor was here the only one I would believe it to be would be... Hmm....could this really be true? Is Zan one of your minions that you have sent to destroy us from the inside out? Well, I will not let it happen! I will confront this demon of yours. He shall not be the one to continue helping you and tearing us apart. Once I finish him off...I will come for you next you mind game playing....
I guess this all could be a ploy based on my rising anger for that werewolf. I will hold my anger in a bit longer until you or someone else gives me proof of a pact between you two. If you are correct, I may have a few more questions for you. Just remember, I show no mercy for any of your minions....no matter what the circumstances may be. If you must warn Zan of me knowing, do so with this message: I will show no mercy on you, even if you are one of us.
End Flashmail
It had now been decided. If further evidence could be mustered from the findings of the group that Zan had betrayed them, Hacorie would then confront his fellow Heavy Blade, but until then...all he could do was to wait it out. Zan may have been a complete asshole to the Long Arm and Heavy Blade before, but Hacorie could hold off just to see the werewolf’s face when his secret is revealed to everyone. However, Hacorie hoped the two would be cut off from the entire party when the confrontation began. Zan had seemed to have made many friends within the group, and if a split were to occur for protectors and attackers of the werewolf, the battle and bloodshed would be completely meaningless. This battle was only between the two Heavy Blade’s for the most part. Hacorie knew deep within that he could stop Zan if he really put his mind to it. “One person should know about this, incase I die against ‘im...” Hacorie whispered as he began to type up another Flashmail; this one shorter and more precise in its point.
Flashmail
To: Senna
From: Hacorie
I hate to do this to you, but I must confide in a secret with you. I recieved a Flashmail from Marionette stating there was a traitor amongst us. Knowing I would choose Zan as the obvious choice, he has began setting my emotions into turn. I feel a battle may erupt within the next few hours between the two of us. Only on the event of my death against the hands of that werewolf would I need you to divulge my purposes for fighting him. Marionette wants this battle to happen, but I am not afraid. If any other information on Zan is discovered, let me know. We can compile it to create a good defense in our claims incase my predictions are completely inaccurate.
End Flashmail
Before even finding the girl’s face for a reply, Hacorie began to explore the mansion on his own. He needed something to do since everyone else seemed to be also confiding in the Angel’s words and exploring the entire first floor. After taking two rights, the Heavy Blade followed the wall of the outside wall of the lobby until he was met with a door. “Hmm...maybe there is something of importance her.” He spoke again to himself. Another reason Hacorie left the room was to get away from the silly Zan who was in the process of meddling with the Angel’s proposition for questions. Reaching for the handle, Hacorie noticed the small keyhole which was set in the perfect center of the metal plate. Grabbing hold of the cold metal, Hacorie began to turn the knob. “SHIT!” He called as he forcibly began to jiggle the handle, hoping it was just stuck and not the most obvious of outcomes: a locked door. Everything he tried was to no avail, not even ramming the door seemed to work. Feeling his hair beginning to get soaked, the Heavy Blade ran his fingers through it, dispersing the water particles throughout the blonde entirety.
Trying to think of a way to get in the locked room, Hacorie noticed a plate with a number engraved in it. The number six must have defined the room and given it an easier way to describe it instead of using the innards as the name. Then, it dawned on the character. There was one item in which he had not thought of using. The most basic and cheapest of any item in The World. This item was the only thing to dismember those nasty blue treasure boxes: a fortune wire. Reaching down to his pack, the Heavy Blade pulled out the small piece of thin and strong wire. Gripping the two folded ends, Hacorie began to pull until it straightened a bit. Pushing a straight end, into the hole, Hacorie began jiggling the wire as well as the doorknob. After five minutes passed, Hacorie still came to the end of his struggle. Pulling the wire out easily, he turned and began walking back to the room labeled the lobby.
Upon entering the doorway, Hacorie looked around and tried to find the owner of this great house, but she was no where to be found. It was as if she just disappeared, or someone caused her to disappear. Hacorie had a few questions for her to answer, but now it was as if that did not even matter for there was any way to get his answer. Looking around, Hacorie noticed the werewolf sitting where the Angel was before. Maybe I can begin playing mind games, too...nah maybe not.? Hacorie thought as he began to walk toward the boy. However, he stopped midway and froze in place. If he brought Zan out in the open now, even whispering anything was out of the question entirely; someone may overhear and begin spreading rumors. Hacorie would just have to confide in Senna’s judgment about the information he sent her.
Let’s see how this plays out...
After a few more minor conversations carrying on around him, a few bits of eavesdropping from earlier hit the ears of the Heavy Blade. Raine and Nighthand were the two with such early words which made his ear’s perk up. The conversation did not contain the name of the Heavy Blade, but instead of one of the other leaders of the group: Nall. Even know the character had disappeared at the second hub until the very end. One thing was certain: Nall’s powers had not decreased, he was still as fast and strong as Hacorie remembered from before his absence from the team. His strength may have stayed the same, but his attitude was a little different. The Blademaster used to be hated for his attitude of superiority, but lately he had seemed a little...off to say the least. The words of interest seemed to be that Nall had been asked to go visit another field and do reconnaissance work, so Hac thought, for Raine and Sheena. “So...he won’t be joining us?” Hacorie whispered to himself as he brought one of his hands up to his chin and began to rub his thumb and index finger. This gave the illusion of the normal cliche for thinking. There were now a few things which could not be added up in the mind of the Heavy Blade concerning the leaders. Why would Nighthand be the only one to join us? Is his power going to be enough?
Hac knew what was about to come. 3...2....1... Just as he had anticipated, a single mail box item was confirmed with the normal ping, which annoyed the hell out of the Heavy Blade. If he was still able to access the outside, the first thing the character would do was find the sound file in the game’s folder and delete it or replace it with a song of some sort. Since that would be considered hacking and it was against the game’s code, the true player would probably cop out at the last minute anyway on fear of being banned from the enjoyable escape from reality. All of these things were quite difficult to do since the Heavy Blade was now part of the game. He had no way of reaching the simplistic coding which held the sounds to certain actions or goals. Opening the mail, the character just scanned the text for anything of great importance. Nope, nothing at all was in the letter. Just a vague message about how they would be leaving soon without Nall. Looking over it briefly one last time, Hacorie saw two coupled words of interest: Chaos Gate. It was the rendevous point where Nighthand wanted the entire group to mean before the leave. That is where Hacorie would learn the keywords to the third field, third hub, and third boss. The three keywords formed a cool little phrase, which may have described the great adventure to come.
“Lambda: Muted Illusionary Code.”
The words echoed through the character’s mind as he felt his body begin to tense up. Slowly, the three gigantic rings which bound him to his position descended from above his body and gently glided to the ground while reversely ascending to its original position, disappearing into thin air. As he watched the most basic of the game’s characteristics, the character noticed large black splotches beginning to appear in front of him. Quickly, everything turned completely black and the Heavy Blade’s eyes automatically closed. After being completely isolated from everything, the normal sound of the hideout faded, but was quickly replaced with the sound of birds, crickets, and other woodland creatures. A shiver quickly began to make the character violently shake as he rolled his head in habit. The temperature change had caused his skin to use its warmth protection: also known as goosebumps. It was strange how the human body worked, releasing the noticeable skin agent, even when the latter of the temperature was greater than that of the original. “Oh well, no time to ponder on why everything seems to be out of whack with everything around us lately. If I did, I would be here all day...” Hacorie surprisingly said as he opened his eyes to see he was in an expected place: a forest.
Instead of dawdling around to find any clues on where to go, Nighthand brilliantly picked up on the area and began to lead the group in a certain direction which looked a bit like an intentional path. Walking along the brown clad road, the Heavy Blade, as well as everyone else, noticed a gigantic mansion coming upon the horizons. It seemed to currently be in use since there were a few lights here and there in certain windows. One other large obstacle came into the vision of the group as they neared the home of the field’s protector. It was a gigantic gate which dashed any hopes of continuing any further without using force, but before any member could even try and attack the metal bars, the unexpected was noticed. The large iron door began to creak as it made a grand entrance toward the courtyard of the massive place. Instinctively placing his hand on the leather hilt, Hacorie continued to follow the players while shifting glances to make sure nothing would give them the fright of a sneak attack. To his surprise, nothing came. The group was even allowed all the way to the door. It seemed as if intentional blood shed was being abandoned by the guardian somewhere in the field.
Entering the brilliantly designed house, the group was met with their first actual life form: a woman who just sat in a chair and looked on at them. As time progressed, she started to introduce herself as the one the group had come to defeat: Angel. Even though the group knew what they had to do, no one seemed to move toward any sort of active battling stance. Even Hacorie’s hand left his weapon as he came face to face with the Marionette Angel. She seemed fairly nice and level headed compared to the Marionette Devil Hacorie and Senna killed a few days before. After her brief explanation about how the group could explore the mansion, everyone seemed to split up: some talked to the angel while others just disappeared from the one exit of the room. Having no real questions for the lady, the Heavy Blade began to wander on his own. He had to decide what to do about everything in the room. If the woman was not lying, her image was more or less a hologram. A puppet would fit more into the category since it still had an intellectual AI which shared very personal information on her own status and stance on the matters at hand.
Flashmail
To: Hacorie
From: Marionette
yoU feeL yoU knoW thE traitoR iN youR midsT. dO yoU darE acT oN thiS, oR doeS thaT makE yoU thE onE yoU suspecT?
End Flashmail
Flashmail
To: Marionette
From: Hacorie
Hmm...I really did not have any clue that their was a traitor within our midst. I am quite intrigued by your message though because if a traitor was here the only one I would believe it to be would be... Hmm....could this really be true? Is Zan one of your minions that you have sent to destroy us from the inside out? Well, I will not let it happen! I will confront this demon of yours. He shall not be the one to continue helping you and tearing us apart. Once I finish him off...I will come for you next you mind game playing....
I guess this all could be a ploy based on my rising anger for that werewolf. I will hold my anger in a bit longer until you or someone else gives me proof of a pact between you two. If you are correct, I may have a few more questions for you. Just remember, I show no mercy for any of your minions....no matter what the circumstances may be. If you must warn Zan of me knowing, do so with this message: I will show no mercy on you, even if you are one of us.
End Flashmail
It had now been decided. If further evidence could be mustered from the findings of the group that Zan had betrayed them, Hacorie would then confront his fellow Heavy Blade, but until then...all he could do was to wait it out. Zan may have been a complete asshole to the Long Arm and Heavy Blade before, but Hacorie could hold off just to see the werewolf’s face when his secret is revealed to everyone. However, Hacorie hoped the two would be cut off from the entire party when the confrontation began. Zan had seemed to have made many friends within the group, and if a split were to occur for protectors and attackers of the werewolf, the battle and bloodshed would be completely meaningless. This battle was only between the two Heavy Blade’s for the most part. Hacorie knew deep within that he could stop Zan if he really put his mind to it. “One person should know about this, incase I die against ‘im...” Hacorie whispered as he began to type up another Flashmail; this one shorter and more precise in its point.
Flashmail
To: Senna
From: Hacorie
I hate to do this to you, but I must confide in a secret with you. I recieved a Flashmail from Marionette stating there was a traitor amongst us. Knowing I would choose Zan as the obvious choice, he has began setting my emotions into turn. I feel a battle may erupt within the next few hours between the two of us. Only on the event of my death against the hands of that werewolf would I need you to divulge my purposes for fighting him. Marionette wants this battle to happen, but I am not afraid. If any other information on Zan is discovered, let me know. We can compile it to create a good defense in our claims incase my predictions are completely inaccurate.
End Flashmail
Before even finding the girl’s face for a reply, Hacorie began to explore the mansion on his own. He needed something to do since everyone else seemed to be also confiding in the Angel’s words and exploring the entire first floor. After taking two rights, the Heavy Blade followed the wall of the outside wall of the lobby until he was met with a door. “Hmm...maybe there is something of importance her.” He spoke again to himself. Another reason Hacorie left the room was to get away from the silly Zan who was in the process of meddling with the Angel’s proposition for questions. Reaching for the handle, Hacorie noticed the small keyhole which was set in the perfect center of the metal plate. Grabbing hold of the cold metal, Hacorie began to turn the knob. “SHIT!” He called as he forcibly began to jiggle the handle, hoping it was just stuck and not the most obvious of outcomes: a locked door. Everything he tried was to no avail, not even ramming the door seemed to work. Feeling his hair beginning to get soaked, the Heavy Blade ran his fingers through it, dispersing the water particles throughout the blonde entirety.
Trying to think of a way to get in the locked room, Hacorie noticed a plate with a number engraved in it. The number six must have defined the room and given it an easier way to describe it instead of using the innards as the name. Then, it dawned on the character. There was one item in which he had not thought of using. The most basic and cheapest of any item in The World. This item was the only thing to dismember those nasty blue treasure boxes: a fortune wire. Reaching down to his pack, the Heavy Blade pulled out the small piece of thin and strong wire. Gripping the two folded ends, Hacorie began to pull until it straightened a bit. Pushing a straight end, into the hole, Hacorie began jiggling the wire as well as the doorknob. After five minutes passed, Hacorie still came to the end of his struggle. Pulling the wire out easily, he turned and began walking back to the room labeled the lobby.
Upon entering the doorway, Hacorie looked around and tried to find the owner of this great house, but she was no where to be found. It was as if she just disappeared, or someone caused her to disappear. Hacorie had a few questions for her to answer, but now it was as if that did not even matter for there was any way to get his answer. Looking around, Hacorie noticed the werewolf sitting where the Angel was before. Maybe I can begin playing mind games, too...nah maybe not.? Hacorie thought as he began to walk toward the boy. However, he stopped midway and froze in place. If he brought Zan out in the open now, even whispering anything was out of the question entirely; someone may overhear and begin spreading rumors. Hacorie would just have to confide in Senna’s judgment about the information he sent her.
Let’s see how this plays out...
Hacorie
Level 36 Heavy Blade
Gold: 21237
Equips
Oceanic Aura/Sharktooth-Ice Helm-Winter Coat-
Shiva's Rings-Bondage Pants
---Water Magic, BL Yokohama
Wishlist:
Level Meh Up
Weapons: Sakabatou/Rock n Roll/Peace Blade
Body: Knight's Armor
Other: Earthlore/Feng Shui
--------Water/Earth Scrolls
Level 36 Heavy Blade
Gold: 21237
Equips
Oceanic Aura/Sharktooth-Ice Helm-Winter Coat-
Shiva's Rings-Bondage Pants
---Water Magic, BL Yokohama
Wishlist:
Level Meh Up
Weapons: Sakabatou/Rock n Roll/Peace Blade
Body: Knight's Armor
Other: Earthlore/Feng Shui
--------Water/Earth Scrolls
Zan, only able to endure idly sitting in the former seat of Angel for so long, was on his feet only a minute after his second 'tirade.' The werewolf didn't know what he could do while he waited for the rest of the group to finish their explorations and puzzle solvings, but he knew it had to be something. The dirty looks being shot his way by some of the room's occupants, looks that practically screamed 'hypocrite' and 'hot head' in his direction, only inspired this need to leave further. Though he cared little about their opinions, he was hardly in the mood to deal with their individual judgments. A Flashmail from Phoe, one that told him a possible use of the mortar and pestle he had received in the trophy room, gave him his solid out. Like a ghost, Nulus followed him out of the lounge without a word. The room the Blademaster had mentioned wasn't hard to find, what with the numbered doors and all, and he entered the place of alchemy with a curious eye. If he had cared a little more about inspecting the room, if he thought Phoenix hadn't cleaned it out already, the lycanthrope would have lingered more. As it was, a simple placement of his 'special' items and he was already making for the door. The appearance of a treasure chest, of course, halted this progression. Tantalizing. It seemed a little foolish to be taking even more from their hostess, but why not?
In it was a pair of Smith's Gloves, two Warrior Bloods, two Knight Bloods, two Hunter Bloods, two Hermit Bloods, two Beast Bloods, and two Wizard Bloods. Zan blinked at the sudden, rapid additions to his inventory, but it didn't give it much more than a passing thought. Whether or not they were safe to use in this place would be found in time. The bare hustle and bustle of the Freedom Fighters through the hallway, completing whatever Flashmails had told them to, was welcomed. Though Zan would have been in blatant denial if he said he wasn't a hot head, he often was, but with that heat came his ability to strategize and help. People often took it the wrong way, took his scorching speeches as declarations of hate, and the werewolf was too stubborn to ever try and explain himself better. They could believe what they wished to. That he had been called, if only with eyes, a hypocrite (if he had read some faces correctly), took Zan back. Yes, he had caused damage in the trophy room, but he hadn't put the whole group in danger in doing so. Not in the immediate consequential way, anyway. Angel was going to be pissed, but whatever shitstain thought she wasn't going to try and kill them anyway was a fool. Slouching against one of the golden walls, Nulus across from him, he stood in his contemplative silence feeling awfully alone.
Motherfuckers.
Zan didn't need them. The only ones he felt obligated to, that he felt he needed to stick by to get out of this mess was Nall, Nighthand, Raine and Sheena. Anybody else...Rayo, Senna, Hacorie, Phoenix, Canti, any of them...could simply cease to exist for all it mattered to him. Just because he had shouted, admittedly a lot and things that needed to be said, Zan was steadily becoming public enemy number one. Perhaps it was in his head, but he didn't think so. Though he doubted they could possibly be fathoming his connection with Marionette, he wouldn't fight it when it came down to it. The pact with the Puppetmaster had been for the good of the group, to keep them safe from the Elites noticing their activity while they destroyed their Hubs. Yes, it meant they'd have to show up to some Marionette-designated field sometime soon, but so what? The werewolf had faith in them. No matter how much he thought they were painfully stupid and ridiculously ignorant, something he noted to be judgmental but again felt apathetic about, he had faith. They could, and they would, take down whatever obstacle stood in their way. Sometimes they'd have to run, as they had had to do in Mac Anu against the Elites, but they were strong. They were skilled. They were courageous. Some were even downright fucking noble. And Zan would never tell them. If his belief in them, despite his disagreement with their actions and his easily triggered temper, didn't come across? Fuck 'em. Flat out bend them over and shove a 'Get Over It' picket sign up their relative orifices.
A glance beneath his hood, one that had been pulled over (and tended to when he wanted to feel less in the public eye) and hid his face in its shadows, was given towards the Shade. During mental rant sessions like the above, his partner was often prone to fits of laughter and jeering at his expense. Now? The floating, all-too-tall figure hovered still and calm. A brief glimpse into their bond and he knew that Nulus felt pity for not just him, but for the group as a whole. Nulus could see Zan was beginning to separate himself from them, could see that, though Zan would never leave them, that he was beginning to close himself off in a way that would alienate him from the team. This, the Shade expected, would self-ostracize him from the teamwork and, in the end, get the werewolf or those around him killed. It was inevitable. Just as soon as he had opened it, the Lycan shut down the tap with a jolt. It felt...weird...to have his comrade so concerned with his wellbeing. What other things was Wryneck - or whatever had perpetuated the initial change - whispering in his ear while Zan wasn't looking? Was the Ani god himself teaching Nulus to be something better? The intricacies of the situation were too much for then, especially because...well...Canti had just sent a rather interesting e-mail.
Interesting? It was horrifying.
Zan hadn't just been offing powerful AI's as initially believed, but murdering. If the Guardians were comatose and they couldn't ghost and, in effect, they had been deleted in the pursuits of the Freedom Fighters? They were dead. Really and truly dead. Though that's exactly what they were planning on doing to the Elites, Zan still took it like a punch to the gut. Slumping down to the floor, back still the wall, the werewolf didn't dare to breathe. The next breath would bring guilt...so much guilt. It was during that moment that the Heavy Blade was truly grateful that he had Nulus. Like a brother, like his protector, Zan felt and allowed his partner's intrusion into his mind. Like a surgeon, Nulus swallowed up and destroyed the guilt and the pain it came with and replaced it with the cool heart of a predator, of an animal. Blinking away the change, Zan couldn't really admit to feeling any different. As a person. The shame of their actions, the weight of it, had gone, however. Cold, practical logic had replaced it. If the Guardians had been stuck like that, doing the Puppetmaster's bidding, then the Freedom Fighters had...given them freedom. It was almost poetic. That, too, is what they must do to Angel. She had to be freed from her prison. The whole bother of it already gone, Zan's task in the hall (and the room he had left) complete, he once more returned to the lounge and what part of the group had amassed there.
With the big floating wraith levitating next to him, Zan still felt like he had too many eyes on him. Just as he was about to recall the Shade with an apology, he was stopped with words.
"Wait. I...want to try something."
Zan was curious. "What do you mean, try something?"
"It means to attempt an action." Zan didn't laugh, so Nulus continued. "I mean I want to try something I've been wondering about ever since we went up to Carmina Gadelica. I thought it was a little ridiculous but, since you'd rather not pull too much attention to us, I figure now's a good a time as any."
Zan was still lost. "Uh?"
"Bonding with you gave me human intelligence. So, in theory, it could also..." Nulus drifted off and, out of sheer chance, Zan caught on.
"...have given you a human form." The werewolf finished the sentence.
Rather than say 'bingo' or 'no shit' or any number of confirmations, Nulus simply paused. Like peeling paint, inky tendrils and plumes of green mist floated away from the Shade's form until, slowly but surely, Zan's partner lost mass and shape before his eyes. When all had cleared, when everything was done, the Heavy Blade almost couldn't believe it had worked. Standing before him, human-looking as could be, was Nulus. Standing next to him, Zan couldn't help but notice how alike they looked in attire. The once-Shade was clad in black combat boots, black pants, and a black shirt that had over it a waist-length leather coat that was, you guessed it, black. Zan's coat was a trench and his shirt was green, but still...they seemed to fit together. The euphemistic use of 'brother' before now seemed all too real. Doing a full circle, more trying to get better angles of himself off of a nearby reflective surface than show off to anyone in particular, Nulus seemed happy. On the front of the black shirt was a green design of the Juk Rune overlapped onto an Ani Rune that, so you could see it on the charcoal hue of the shirt itself, was outlined in emerald. This same combination of symbols was on the back of the leather coat and, like the outline, Nulus' eyes were a bright, emerald green. Though they weren't ablaze like his other form, one Zan knew he could take again for combat when the time came, they almost seemed to promise they could be at any second. Semi-short black hair was naturally smoothed and combed, a strand or three of his bangs threatening to fall in front of his eye from time to time.
Zan smirked. "Subtle."
Arms free of metal cuffs and gloves like Zan, Nulus pulled out a chair from the table and swung it around in front of him, straddling it backwards. "I thought so."
"Nulus, geeze. Did you have to jack my sense of style?" He was, by tone, only half serious.
"Psh, your style. I make this shit look good. You look like a hobo." Rather than get angry, Zan simply smirked and shook his head. "And don't call be Nulus. Call me...Nul. Yea. Sounds more, you know, human. Less 'Latin name for primordial ex-evil.' You know."
The excitement dying down from his partner's new look, Zan kicked back lazily in Angel's chair, leaning it back so his feet could loft and prop in relaxation upon the table. Nulus...'Nul'...wasn't fooled.
"You can't let this keep up. Just because they're assholes..." Nul turned his head towards the accumulated mass, voice indicating he was more talking about the weather than insulting them. "And you are all assholes. 'Cept Sekai. She's a bunny rabbit." Zan chose to ignore that he knew Nul still thought of rabbits as prey. "...doesn't mean you have to cut yourself off from them. You don't have to care if they like you, but care about them. That faith in them you think puts you so much morally higher is going to wane under the stress of this whole thing. You poor schmucks are human, you make mistakes, so get your head out of your ass and participate. As much as I'm for goosing Senna or pantsing Hacorie, that can wait. Let's beat this last Hub first."
Ignoring all but near the last of what Nul said, Zan quoted an old, old shapechanging movie. "I'm not human. I'm better than that."
Nul stopped talking, unable to respond to the hubris-ridden comments; he couldn’t tell if Zan was joking or not. He was quickly regretting taking away the guilt of the Guardians' murders. Something deeper might have been changed. The question was, if so...
...could it be undone?
In it was a pair of Smith's Gloves, two Warrior Bloods, two Knight Bloods, two Hunter Bloods, two Hermit Bloods, two Beast Bloods, and two Wizard Bloods. Zan blinked at the sudden, rapid additions to his inventory, but it didn't give it much more than a passing thought. Whether or not they were safe to use in this place would be found in time. The bare hustle and bustle of the Freedom Fighters through the hallway, completing whatever Flashmails had told them to, was welcomed. Though Zan would have been in blatant denial if he said he wasn't a hot head, he often was, but with that heat came his ability to strategize and help. People often took it the wrong way, took his scorching speeches as declarations of hate, and the werewolf was too stubborn to ever try and explain himself better. They could believe what they wished to. That he had been called, if only with eyes, a hypocrite (if he had read some faces correctly), took Zan back. Yes, he had caused damage in the trophy room, but he hadn't put the whole group in danger in doing so. Not in the immediate consequential way, anyway. Angel was going to be pissed, but whatever shitstain thought she wasn't going to try and kill them anyway was a fool. Slouching against one of the golden walls, Nulus across from him, he stood in his contemplative silence feeling awfully alone.
Motherfuckers.
Zan didn't need them. The only ones he felt obligated to, that he felt he needed to stick by to get out of this mess was Nall, Nighthand, Raine and Sheena. Anybody else...Rayo, Senna, Hacorie, Phoenix, Canti, any of them...could simply cease to exist for all it mattered to him. Just because he had shouted, admittedly a lot and things that needed to be said, Zan was steadily becoming public enemy number one. Perhaps it was in his head, but he didn't think so. Though he doubted they could possibly be fathoming his connection with Marionette, he wouldn't fight it when it came down to it. The pact with the Puppetmaster had been for the good of the group, to keep them safe from the Elites noticing their activity while they destroyed their Hubs. Yes, it meant they'd have to show up to some Marionette-designated field sometime soon, but so what? The werewolf had faith in them. No matter how much he thought they were painfully stupid and ridiculously ignorant, something he noted to be judgmental but again felt apathetic about, he had faith. They could, and they would, take down whatever obstacle stood in their way. Sometimes they'd have to run, as they had had to do in Mac Anu against the Elites, but they were strong. They were skilled. They were courageous. Some were even downright fucking noble. And Zan would never tell them. If his belief in them, despite his disagreement with their actions and his easily triggered temper, didn't come across? Fuck 'em. Flat out bend them over and shove a 'Get Over It' picket sign up their relative orifices.
A glance beneath his hood, one that had been pulled over (and tended to when he wanted to feel less in the public eye) and hid his face in its shadows, was given towards the Shade. During mental rant sessions like the above, his partner was often prone to fits of laughter and jeering at his expense. Now? The floating, all-too-tall figure hovered still and calm. A brief glimpse into their bond and he knew that Nulus felt pity for not just him, but for the group as a whole. Nulus could see Zan was beginning to separate himself from them, could see that, though Zan would never leave them, that he was beginning to close himself off in a way that would alienate him from the team. This, the Shade expected, would self-ostracize him from the teamwork and, in the end, get the werewolf or those around him killed. It was inevitable. Just as soon as he had opened it, the Lycan shut down the tap with a jolt. It felt...weird...to have his comrade so concerned with his wellbeing. What other things was Wryneck - or whatever had perpetuated the initial change - whispering in his ear while Zan wasn't looking? Was the Ani god himself teaching Nulus to be something better? The intricacies of the situation were too much for then, especially because...well...Canti had just sent a rather interesting e-mail.
Interesting? It was horrifying.
Zan hadn't just been offing powerful AI's as initially believed, but murdering. If the Guardians were comatose and they couldn't ghost and, in effect, they had been deleted in the pursuits of the Freedom Fighters? They were dead. Really and truly dead. Though that's exactly what they were planning on doing to the Elites, Zan still took it like a punch to the gut. Slumping down to the floor, back still the wall, the werewolf didn't dare to breathe. The next breath would bring guilt...so much guilt. It was during that moment that the Heavy Blade was truly grateful that he had Nulus. Like a brother, like his protector, Zan felt and allowed his partner's intrusion into his mind. Like a surgeon, Nulus swallowed up and destroyed the guilt and the pain it came with and replaced it with the cool heart of a predator, of an animal. Blinking away the change, Zan couldn't really admit to feeling any different. As a person. The shame of their actions, the weight of it, had gone, however. Cold, practical logic had replaced it. If the Guardians had been stuck like that, doing the Puppetmaster's bidding, then the Freedom Fighters had...given them freedom. It was almost poetic. That, too, is what they must do to Angel. She had to be freed from her prison. The whole bother of it already gone, Zan's task in the hall (and the room he had left) complete, he once more returned to the lounge and what part of the group had amassed there.
With the big floating wraith levitating next to him, Zan still felt like he had too many eyes on him. Just as he was about to recall the Shade with an apology, he was stopped with words.
"Wait. I...want to try something."
Zan was curious. "What do you mean, try something?"
"It means to attempt an action." Zan didn't laugh, so Nulus continued. "I mean I want to try something I've been wondering about ever since we went up to Carmina Gadelica. I thought it was a little ridiculous but, since you'd rather not pull too much attention to us, I figure now's a good a time as any."
Zan was still lost. "Uh?"
"Bonding with you gave me human intelligence. So, in theory, it could also..." Nulus drifted off and, out of sheer chance, Zan caught on.
"...have given you a human form." The werewolf finished the sentence.
Rather than say 'bingo' or 'no shit' or any number of confirmations, Nulus simply paused. Like peeling paint, inky tendrils and plumes of green mist floated away from the Shade's form until, slowly but surely, Zan's partner lost mass and shape before his eyes. When all had cleared, when everything was done, the Heavy Blade almost couldn't believe it had worked. Standing before him, human-looking as could be, was Nulus. Standing next to him, Zan couldn't help but notice how alike they looked in attire. The once-Shade was clad in black combat boots, black pants, and a black shirt that had over it a waist-length leather coat that was, you guessed it, black. Zan's coat was a trench and his shirt was green, but still...they seemed to fit together. The euphemistic use of 'brother' before now seemed all too real. Doing a full circle, more trying to get better angles of himself off of a nearby reflective surface than show off to anyone in particular, Nulus seemed happy. On the front of the black shirt was a green design of the Juk Rune overlapped onto an Ani Rune that, so you could see it on the charcoal hue of the shirt itself, was outlined in emerald. This same combination of symbols was on the back of the leather coat and, like the outline, Nulus' eyes were a bright, emerald green. Though they weren't ablaze like his other form, one Zan knew he could take again for combat when the time came, they almost seemed to promise they could be at any second. Semi-short black hair was naturally smoothed and combed, a strand or three of his bangs threatening to fall in front of his eye from time to time.
Zan smirked. "Subtle."
Arms free of metal cuffs and gloves like Zan, Nulus pulled out a chair from the table and swung it around in front of him, straddling it backwards. "I thought so."
"Nulus, geeze. Did you have to jack my sense of style?" He was, by tone, only half serious.
"Psh, your style. I make this shit look good. You look like a hobo." Rather than get angry, Zan simply smirked and shook his head. "And don't call be Nulus. Call me...Nul. Yea. Sounds more, you know, human. Less 'Latin name for primordial ex-evil.' You know."
The excitement dying down from his partner's new look, Zan kicked back lazily in Angel's chair, leaning it back so his feet could loft and prop in relaxation upon the table. Nulus...'Nul'...wasn't fooled.
"You can't let this keep up. Just because they're assholes..." Nul turned his head towards the accumulated mass, voice indicating he was more talking about the weather than insulting them. "And you are all assholes. 'Cept Sekai. She's a bunny rabbit." Zan chose to ignore that he knew Nul still thought of rabbits as prey. "...doesn't mean you have to cut yourself off from them. You don't have to care if they like you, but care about them. That faith in them you think puts you so much morally higher is going to wane under the stress of this whole thing. You poor schmucks are human, you make mistakes, so get your head out of your ass and participate. As much as I'm for goosing Senna or pantsing Hacorie, that can wait. Let's beat this last Hub first."
Ignoring all but near the last of what Nul said, Zan quoted an old, old shapechanging movie. "I'm not human. I'm better than that."
Nul stopped talking, unable to respond to the hubris-ridden comments; he couldn’t tell if Zan was joking or not. He was quickly regretting taking away the guilt of the Guardians' murders. Something deeper might have been changed. The question was, if so...
...could it be undone?
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).
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).
"What should we do today in Mac Anu, fellow player?" A somewhat non-descript long arm asks his fellow as they walk the digital streets.
"I know!" Exclaims the even less descript blademaster. "Let's go present gifts to High Lady Kit in reverence to her awesomeness and overall abundance of cute!"
"Yea verily." The long arm states, somehow producing a two foot wide ball of yarn from his back pocket as his friend produced a large carton on thin cream. With a shared, joyous laugh, the two of them walk towards the opposite end of Mac Anu where stands a great and glorious castle wherein the moat is filled with milk and cat nip grows from every tree surrounding the giant structure. They enter, passing by the high-pile carpet scratching post statue garden as they enter the main antechamber. Through the grand double doors they stride, able to catch a glimpse of their benevolent ruler, comfortably seated upon her perch of goose down pillows and yarn balls, a crystalline fountain flowing milk in the background where tuna-flavored treats swim freely.
"A gift for High Lady Kit!" Shouts the blademaster, the two of them placing the baubles upon the ever increasing pile of play things and snacks next to her throne of pillows. From within the comfy spot, a tail flicks up momentarily and Kit herself sits up in a regal fashion, a servant quickly rushing to fix her perfect whiskers.
"Your presents are appreciated humans!" Her voice somehow booms out. "As thanks you may gaze upon my adorable countenance!!' The two players gasp in awe as the kitten's ears lightly twitch and her tail swishes back and forth. Sadly, it is too much for the poor peons to bear. The players drop to their knees and cry in joy of such a majestic sight, turning and fleeing before their small minds are overwhelmed. As they run, screaming shouts of 'we're not worthy' the High Lady Kit sighs, returning to her pillow for the moment.
"It is such a burden... this great gift I have." She laments, her tail curling around her now balled up body, the tip flicking past her nose. "I give so freely, yet I shall be alone because of it... Is there any that are as sad as I?"
"Clearly not Lady Kit." The servant says, who is suddenly starting to look like Lighteria. "Please, let us frolic in the fields of catnip and small, wild birds so you may cheer up!" Kit opens her eyes, lifting her head as she considers the idea.
"This idea pleases me! Come, we shall frolic together!" Kit announces, standing regally and gracefully leaping off of her pillow pile, heading towards the back door where awaits the catnip fields. Pausing only to lap up some cream from a saucer, the High Lady Kit walks calmly out the back door, now held open by the servant as per his duty. As she walks between the two great catnip trees, spying a lively blue parakeet to chase, the golden lights of the field brighten for some reason... It's hard to tell why... It's like the world is getting brighter...
"Mmm... mew... mew... (Mmm... frolic... catnip...)"
Back in the hideout, Kit slowly opens her eyes, having rolled over onto her back as she slept so the light of the end table gets in her eyes. She blinks a few times to get used to the light, her whiskers twitching in curiosity. Normally when she rolls onto her back, even by accident, someone usually thinks it's just SO adorable that they just HAVE to rub her tummy. ...There's no post-nap tummy rub today though. What gives?! Her ears folding back a little, she gets into a sitting position, looking around the hideout with a quizzical expression... you know, for a cat.
"Mew MEW mew? (Where IS everyone?)"
In the mean time, back in Muted Illusionary Code, Lighteria is caught by surprise, seeing Zan enter the lab briefly, placing the mortar and pestle in the room. Though he's stopped by a treasure chest, the twin blade could tell by his expression that there was no way in hell he wanted to talk right now. ...That was fine with the twin blade of course, the less he's noticed the better really, at least in his book. As the strange Lycan collects his treasure, the twin blade meekly shifts into a corner of the lab, hoping he doesn't catch his gaze. ...It takes a few seconds for the twin blade to end up alone again, the door shutting behind Zan as he walks out with his bloods. In the corner, the twin blade breathes out a sigh of relief.
That was close. ...
...Not that... I should have been... afraid...
The twin blade sighs deeply, wondering why he's so reluctant to talk to the group still. He'd talked to Angel pretty well... but then again she's an NPC of sorts, one reason he liked video games so much was that you can't really screw up talking to the NPCs. Perhaps its subliminal and that's why he could talk so easily... Or maybe he subconsciously knows that she'll likely die by quest's end. Either way, Lighteria quickly realizes he's depressing himself by over-thinking the situation and makes his way out of the corner. As he does, his shoulder lightly dings a nearby table, a bubbling flask tipping off the edge from the impact. The twin blade pales and gasps, diving to the floor and catching it with an open palm, making a loud 'whud' sound as he belly flops onto the lab floor.
"....Ow." He groans out, his chest feeling a bit sore now. With ever-increasing caution, he sets the flask onto the floor and rights himself, this time careful not to bump the table. After going through a mental checklist of damage done by the fall (Check 1: Anything still hurt? -No.), he stoops down to pick up the flask, as he does, his nose wrinkles lightly from the odor coming out the top.
Holy cow. That smells like rotten eggs! Yuck! Must be sulfur in there or something.
Holding his nose shut with one hand, he quickly places the flask back on the table, turning away from it... for a second. With a sudden rush of curiosity, he turns his head back toward the table, eyebrow raised.
...What was she making in here?
Though a quick glance around the lab reveals no clothes pin with which to shut his nose, Lighteria steps forward towards the lab table anyway, glancing over the myriad of chemicals and equipment. Biting his lip, the twin blade looks over the table with undisguised fascination. What could all this stuff DO anyway? Surely you can't create an actual POTION by using such horrible smelling ingredients... can you? His fingers lightly begin to flicker in front of him, a nervous habit, as his eyes scan the labeled bottles lining the chemical racks. While his better judgment may dictate not touching them... This place is just... neat!
...Ah, what the hell.
With a mischievous smile, the twinblade rushes to the supply cabinet, gathering a few empty bottles and carefully piles them onto the work bench. At first the choices are overwhelming... There are so many ingredients to chose from! With his lip bit and an excited smile on his face, he reaches out, grabbing a vial with thick, yellowish fluid in it.
"Orochi Venom"? Looks pretty scary...
Shrugging, Lighteria pours a little of the contents into his starting vial. With less hesitation, he reaches out for a pinch of a powdery substance labeled "Moon Sugar". It certainly sounded pleasant... Though even in his excited state, the twin blade decides against taste testing it. A little sprinkle of sugar into the top of the flask... done! With a smile, he lifts the concoction to face level, lightly shaking it to mix the sugar in with the venom. Noting its mixing nicely, the twin blade bites his lip again, deciding there's something missing. With a quick glance around the table, he grabs the first bottle he sees, this one labeled "Ethanol". Oblivious, he pours a quarter bottle's worth into the mix.
I should water this down a bit, it's awfully thick
With a quick motion towards a rinse sink, he flicks the valve and pours half a bottle full of water into the flask, corking it with satisfaction.
"...That was a strange kind of high, mixing all that." He remarks out-loud to himself. "Wish Kit was here so I could show her." Alas, he's alone this time. As he turns the water off, he lifts the flask into the air, staring at the contents slowly melding together. His excited smile returns as he lightly shakes the corked bottle, making sure everything mixes really well.
Starting to look like a real potion now! It's got just one color to it... and it's starting to bubble! ....I wanna test this thing! ...Not sure I wanna just quaff it though...
Watching the mixture calmly bubble, the twin blade mentally decides that... ok, maybe he shouldn't TASTE it, but smelling it couldn't hurt, right? Of course not. With a nod of assurance to himself, he lifts the bottle in front of his face, popping the cork...
BANG!
The room and the nearby hallway shakes lightly for just a brief second. Really, it's a minor shake when it comes down to it... it really wouldn't be too worrying if the bang didn't ring loudly even into the lobby. Inside the lab though, there's no damage... to the equipment. The flask certainly held up alright, though the tip of the flask is burnt and there's a tell-tale stream of smoke pouring from it. About three inches away though, is Lighteria's head, apparently having absorbed most if not all of the blast. His face is pitch black and his hair burnt, every last strand of it blown back and pointing in the opposite direction of the flask. There's a moment of silence as Lighteria manages to blink his eyes back open, now the only non-black part of his face. He stares at the tip of the flask for a few seconds, noting a flicker of light reflecting in the glass. A closer inspection of the light leads the twin blade to swiftly douse his fingers in the nearby sink again, bringing them up to pinch-snuff a single flame that was dancing on the tip of his burnt hair. There's a deep silence for a moment as he fully takes in the shock...
...Well that didn't work.
With a quick trip to the sink, the twin blade cleans up his face as best he can, leaving his now black-brown hair mostly alone for the time being. Before you can say 'freaky obsession' he's back at the table, picking out another random ingredient.
"I know!" Exclaims the even less descript blademaster. "Let's go present gifts to High Lady Kit in reverence to her awesomeness and overall abundance of cute!"
"Yea verily." The long arm states, somehow producing a two foot wide ball of yarn from his back pocket as his friend produced a large carton on thin cream. With a shared, joyous laugh, the two of them walk towards the opposite end of Mac Anu where stands a great and glorious castle wherein the moat is filled with milk and cat nip grows from every tree surrounding the giant structure. They enter, passing by the high-pile carpet scratching post statue garden as they enter the main antechamber. Through the grand double doors they stride, able to catch a glimpse of their benevolent ruler, comfortably seated upon her perch of goose down pillows and yarn balls, a crystalline fountain flowing milk in the background where tuna-flavored treats swim freely.
"A gift for High Lady Kit!" Shouts the blademaster, the two of them placing the baubles upon the ever increasing pile of play things and snacks next to her throne of pillows. From within the comfy spot, a tail flicks up momentarily and Kit herself sits up in a regal fashion, a servant quickly rushing to fix her perfect whiskers.
"Your presents are appreciated humans!" Her voice somehow booms out. "As thanks you may gaze upon my adorable countenance!!' The two players gasp in awe as the kitten's ears lightly twitch and her tail swishes back and forth. Sadly, it is too much for the poor peons to bear. The players drop to their knees and cry in joy of such a majestic sight, turning and fleeing before their small minds are overwhelmed. As they run, screaming shouts of 'we're not worthy' the High Lady Kit sighs, returning to her pillow for the moment.
"It is such a burden... this great gift I have." She laments, her tail curling around her now balled up body, the tip flicking past her nose. "I give so freely, yet I shall be alone because of it... Is there any that are as sad as I?"
"Clearly not Lady Kit." The servant says, who is suddenly starting to look like Lighteria. "Please, let us frolic in the fields of catnip and small, wild birds so you may cheer up!" Kit opens her eyes, lifting her head as she considers the idea.
"This idea pleases me! Come, we shall frolic together!" Kit announces, standing regally and gracefully leaping off of her pillow pile, heading towards the back door where awaits the catnip fields. Pausing only to lap up some cream from a saucer, the High Lady Kit walks calmly out the back door, now held open by the servant as per his duty. As she walks between the two great catnip trees, spying a lively blue parakeet to chase, the golden lights of the field brighten for some reason... It's hard to tell why... It's like the world is getting brighter...
"Mmm... mew... mew... (Mmm... frolic... catnip...)"
Back in the hideout, Kit slowly opens her eyes, having rolled over onto her back as she slept so the light of the end table gets in her eyes. She blinks a few times to get used to the light, her whiskers twitching in curiosity. Normally when she rolls onto her back, even by accident, someone usually thinks it's just SO adorable that they just HAVE to rub her tummy. ...There's no post-nap tummy rub today though. What gives?! Her ears folding back a little, she gets into a sitting position, looking around the hideout with a quizzical expression... you know, for a cat.
"Mew MEW mew? (Where IS everyone?)"
In the mean time, back in Muted Illusionary Code, Lighteria is caught by surprise, seeing Zan enter the lab briefly, placing the mortar and pestle in the room. Though he's stopped by a treasure chest, the twin blade could tell by his expression that there was no way in hell he wanted to talk right now. ...That was fine with the twin blade of course, the less he's noticed the better really, at least in his book. As the strange Lycan collects his treasure, the twin blade meekly shifts into a corner of the lab, hoping he doesn't catch his gaze. ...It takes a few seconds for the twin blade to end up alone again, the door shutting behind Zan as he walks out with his bloods. In the corner, the twin blade breathes out a sigh of relief.
That was close. ...
...Not that... I should have been... afraid...
The twin blade sighs deeply, wondering why he's so reluctant to talk to the group still. He'd talked to Angel pretty well... but then again she's an NPC of sorts, one reason he liked video games so much was that you can't really screw up talking to the NPCs. Perhaps its subliminal and that's why he could talk so easily... Or maybe he subconsciously knows that she'll likely die by quest's end. Either way, Lighteria quickly realizes he's depressing himself by over-thinking the situation and makes his way out of the corner. As he does, his shoulder lightly dings a nearby table, a bubbling flask tipping off the edge from the impact. The twin blade pales and gasps, diving to the floor and catching it with an open palm, making a loud 'whud' sound as he belly flops onto the lab floor.
"....Ow." He groans out, his chest feeling a bit sore now. With ever-increasing caution, he sets the flask onto the floor and rights himself, this time careful not to bump the table. After going through a mental checklist of damage done by the fall (Check 1: Anything still hurt? -No.), he stoops down to pick up the flask, as he does, his nose wrinkles lightly from the odor coming out the top.
Holy cow. That smells like rotten eggs! Yuck! Must be sulfur in there or something.
Holding his nose shut with one hand, he quickly places the flask back on the table, turning away from it... for a second. With a sudden rush of curiosity, he turns his head back toward the table, eyebrow raised.
...What was she making in here?
Though a quick glance around the lab reveals no clothes pin with which to shut his nose, Lighteria steps forward towards the lab table anyway, glancing over the myriad of chemicals and equipment. Biting his lip, the twin blade looks over the table with undisguised fascination. What could all this stuff DO anyway? Surely you can't create an actual POTION by using such horrible smelling ingredients... can you? His fingers lightly begin to flicker in front of him, a nervous habit, as his eyes scan the labeled bottles lining the chemical racks. While his better judgment may dictate not touching them... This place is just... neat!
...Ah, what the hell.
With a mischievous smile, the twinblade rushes to the supply cabinet, gathering a few empty bottles and carefully piles them onto the work bench. At first the choices are overwhelming... There are so many ingredients to chose from! With his lip bit and an excited smile on his face, he reaches out, grabbing a vial with thick, yellowish fluid in it.
"Orochi Venom"? Looks pretty scary...
Shrugging, Lighteria pours a little of the contents into his starting vial. With less hesitation, he reaches out for a pinch of a powdery substance labeled "Moon Sugar". It certainly sounded pleasant... Though even in his excited state, the twin blade decides against taste testing it. A little sprinkle of sugar into the top of the flask... done! With a smile, he lifts the concoction to face level, lightly shaking it to mix the sugar in with the venom. Noting its mixing nicely, the twin blade bites his lip again, deciding there's something missing. With a quick glance around the table, he grabs the first bottle he sees, this one labeled "Ethanol". Oblivious, he pours a quarter bottle's worth into the mix.
I should water this down a bit, it's awfully thick
With a quick motion towards a rinse sink, he flicks the valve and pours half a bottle full of water into the flask, corking it with satisfaction.
"...That was a strange kind of high, mixing all that." He remarks out-loud to himself. "Wish Kit was here so I could show her." Alas, he's alone this time. As he turns the water off, he lifts the flask into the air, staring at the contents slowly melding together. His excited smile returns as he lightly shakes the corked bottle, making sure everything mixes really well.
Starting to look like a real potion now! It's got just one color to it... and it's starting to bubble! ....I wanna test this thing! ...Not sure I wanna just quaff it though...
Watching the mixture calmly bubble, the twin blade mentally decides that... ok, maybe he shouldn't TASTE it, but smelling it couldn't hurt, right? Of course not. With a nod of assurance to himself, he lifts the bottle in front of his face, popping the cork...
BANG!
The room and the nearby hallway shakes lightly for just a brief second. Really, it's a minor shake when it comes down to it... it really wouldn't be too worrying if the bang didn't ring loudly even into the lobby. Inside the lab though, there's no damage... to the equipment. The flask certainly held up alright, though the tip of the flask is burnt and there's a tell-tale stream of smoke pouring from it. About three inches away though, is Lighteria's head, apparently having absorbed most if not all of the blast. His face is pitch black and his hair burnt, every last strand of it blown back and pointing in the opposite direction of the flask. There's a moment of silence as Lighteria manages to blink his eyes back open, now the only non-black part of his face. He stares at the tip of the flask for a few seconds, noting a flicker of light reflecting in the glass. A closer inspection of the light leads the twin blade to swiftly douse his fingers in the nearby sink again, bringing them up to pinch-snuff a single flame that was dancing on the tip of his burnt hair. There's a deep silence for a moment as he fully takes in the shock...
...Well that didn't work.
With a quick trip to the sink, the twin blade cleans up his face as best he can, leaving his now black-brown hair mostly alone for the time being. Before you can say 'freaky obsession' he's back at the table, picking out another random ingredient.
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"
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"
(OOC: I'm definitely out of the loop, and with my lack of Instant Messenger on thie Best Buy Demo Computer, I'm also definitely not going to get into it regarding rooms and the like. I'll just write a quickie here.)
After some time, the time came for the Freedom Fighters to assault the final "hub," as they were known, and get to the bottom of some kind of mystery revolving around vague and anomalous figures. All of it was a bit over Silk's head, but with his new partnership with the Archer, he figured that perhaps now he could be a little more useful and a little less ridiculous. Within in a very short time from the reception of the Flashmail to the time it took the Fist Fighter to arrive at the Chaos Gate, the entire group of similarly-afflicted victims was gathered together for perhaps their final hurraw.
After a short while spent for the gathering of bearings, the group moved from a small clearly complete with rotting, toppled trees -- which Silk meticuluosly checked for secrets -- and arrived at what could only be described as Bill Gates' vacation manor. It was an enormous building, and in the day it was probably respectable and impressive -- at night, however, it was fearsome and forbidding. No doubt a billion booby-traps, torture chambers, and ghosts lived inside the confines of the massive building, and it would be the Freedom Fighters who would charge in with their weapons raised, glad to fight against the creatures of the night.
Making certain that he was close to Rayo, the Fist Fighter followed the rest of the group -- led by Nighthand -- into the courtyard of the mansion -- a mansion clearly designed to let them in. What appeared next was a kinky sort of gal, one that was dressed entirely in black and white.
"Hubba hubba," murmured Silk under his breath, completely irreverant of the gravity of the situation. Clearly this creature was Angel, the third and likely the most dangerous of the three bosses that they had faced so far. Still, she was certainly a step up from the Devil in the eye-candy category. Flawless alabaster skin was made more gorgeous by a pair of brightly contrasting oceanic eyes. Plus, she wore these chic golden glasses, which were, of course, Silk's biggest fetish. Now if only she had a bandanna...!
While everyone went their own way, and after Zan had a few questions for the pretty little gal, the Fist Fighter went up to the creature to have a few words of his own... except Rayo was already heading into a room, so he he had to cut his fun a little short. "Hey, I'm Silk," the Fist Fighter introduced himself, "and, if it's not too forward of me, I think you look really, really good. I have to go right now, though, but perhaps we could talk later?" Not waiting for Angel's reply, Silk followed Rayo into Room 3, which turned out to be a lavishly accessorized kitchen.
"Mole Arrow!" cried the Archer even as the Fist Fighter shut the door behind him. To his surprise, Silk realized that Rayo had already encountered some kind of threat, leaving him a little sheepish as the Archer searched the rest of the room. Grabbing a bottle of Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum, the Fist Fighter followed the former mage in exploring the rest of the room. A few random odds and ends were discovered, but other than that, nothing all that intresting was discovered.
After a few more unremarkable moments, the Fist Fighter tailed the Archer out of the room, leaving things in decidedly less than orderly shape.
Abruptly, Silk realized that he had a flashmail. The notification had been blinking for a while now, but he had failed to notice it; his attentions were diverted towards the hot chick. Checking his inbox, the Fist Fighter found this:
To: Silk
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU speaK kinD wordS tO mY minioN. whaT waS hE tO yoU?
Not bothering to reply, he tagged after Rayo, resolving to keep a closer eye on him until more interesting things occurred.
After some time, the time came for the Freedom Fighters to assault the final "hub," as they were known, and get to the bottom of some kind of mystery revolving around vague and anomalous figures. All of it was a bit over Silk's head, but with his new partnership with the Archer, he figured that perhaps now he could be a little more useful and a little less ridiculous. Within in a very short time from the reception of the Flashmail to the time it took the Fist Fighter to arrive at the Chaos Gate, the entire group of similarly-afflicted victims was gathered together for perhaps their final hurraw.
After a short while spent for the gathering of bearings, the group moved from a small clearly complete with rotting, toppled trees -- which Silk meticuluosly checked for secrets -- and arrived at what could only be described as Bill Gates' vacation manor. It was an enormous building, and in the day it was probably respectable and impressive -- at night, however, it was fearsome and forbidding. No doubt a billion booby-traps, torture chambers, and ghosts lived inside the confines of the massive building, and it would be the Freedom Fighters who would charge in with their weapons raised, glad to fight against the creatures of the night.
Making certain that he was close to Rayo, the Fist Fighter followed the rest of the group -- led by Nighthand -- into the courtyard of the mansion -- a mansion clearly designed to let them in. What appeared next was a kinky sort of gal, one that was dressed entirely in black and white.
"Hubba hubba," murmured Silk under his breath, completely irreverant of the gravity of the situation. Clearly this creature was Angel, the third and likely the most dangerous of the three bosses that they had faced so far. Still, she was certainly a step up from the Devil in the eye-candy category. Flawless alabaster skin was made more gorgeous by a pair of brightly contrasting oceanic eyes. Plus, she wore these chic golden glasses, which were, of course, Silk's biggest fetish. Now if only she had a bandanna...!
While everyone went their own way, and after Zan had a few questions for the pretty little gal, the Fist Fighter went up to the creature to have a few words of his own... except Rayo was already heading into a room, so he he had to cut his fun a little short. "Hey, I'm Silk," the Fist Fighter introduced himself, "and, if it's not too forward of me, I think you look really, really good. I have to go right now, though, but perhaps we could talk later?" Not waiting for Angel's reply, Silk followed Rayo into Room 3, which turned out to be a lavishly accessorized kitchen.
"Mole Arrow!" cried the Archer even as the Fist Fighter shut the door behind him. To his surprise, Silk realized that Rayo had already encountered some kind of threat, leaving him a little sheepish as the Archer searched the rest of the room. Grabbing a bottle of Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum, the Fist Fighter followed the former mage in exploring the rest of the room. A few random odds and ends were discovered, but other than that, nothing all that intresting was discovered.
After a few more unremarkable moments, the Fist Fighter tailed the Archer out of the room, leaving things in decidedly less than orderly shape.
Abruptly, Silk realized that he had a flashmail. The notification had been blinking for a while now, but he had failed to notice it; his attentions were diverted towards the hot chick. Checking his inbox, the Fist Fighter found this:
To: Silk
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU speaK kinD wordS tO mY minioN. whaT waS hE tO yoU?
Not bothering to reply, he tagged after Rayo, resolving to keep a closer eye on him until more interesting things occurred.
Level 25 Fist Fighter
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband
Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher
Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband
Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher
Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items
- Marionette
- Elevated Player
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Sun Sep 03, 2006 4:24 pm
Flashmail
To: Rayo
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU wisH tO knoW whaT thE kingS anD queenS arE doinG, wherE theY arE? I telL yoU iT plaiN: tO finD theM aS yoU arE noW wilL leavE yoU nO betteR thaN theY arE. iF yoU wisH tO havE thE slightesT breatH oF chancE oN youR sidE, comE tO mE firsT.
Flashmail
To: Sekai
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
thE tableT waS yourS tO finD sO thaT I mighT seE youR minD yeT deepeR. aS foR thE otheR commenT, speaK tO thE wolF. telL hiM yoU knoW oF thE tokeN. yoU musT helP hiM iN hiS contracT iF yoU sO choosE tO inquirE. bewarE. nonE shalL bE alloweD tO knoW yoU speaK tO hiM oF thiS.
Flashmail
To: Zan
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
thE innocenT onE wilL comE tO yoU. heR knowledgE iS thaT oF youR marK, anD heR desirE iS thaT oF youR pacT. telL heR iF yoU wisH, buT knoW thiS pacT makeS yoU enemieS oF youR allieS.
To: Rayo
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
yoU wisH tO knoW whaT thE kingS anD queenS arE doinG, wherE theY arE? I telL yoU iT plaiN: tO finD theM aS yoU arE noW wilL leavE yoU nO betteR thaN theY arE. iF yoU wisH tO havE thE slightesT breatH oF chancE oN youR sidE, comE tO mE firsT.
Flashmail
To: Sekai
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
thE tableT waS yourS tO finD sO thaT I mighT seE youR minD yeT deepeR. aS foR thE otheR commenT, speaK tO thE wolF. telL hiM yoU knoW oF thE tokeN. yoU musT helP hiM iN hiS contracT iF yoU sO choosE tO inquirE. bewarE. nonE shalL bE alloweD tO knoW yoU speaK tO hiM oF thiS.
Flashmail
To: Zan
From: Marionette
RE: (none)
thE innocenT onE wilL comE tO yoU. heR knowledgE iS thaT oF youR marK, anD heR desirE iS thaT oF youR pacT. telL heR iF yoU wisH, buT knoW thiS pacT makeS yoU enemieS oF youR allieS.
whaT happenS wheN thE puppeT pullS thE stringS?
- Nighthand
- Master of Games
- Posts: 1265
- Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
- Class: Bladesmage
- Location: ...Tracking...please wait...
Nighthand, content to let the group explore the mansion on their own, simply spent most of his time in the lobby. The few flashmails that arrived he read and noted, but made no reply. Nor did he make any comments on the conversations with Angel, until Zhao and Raquar somehow managed to piss her off enough that she disappeared. Taking that as a bad sign, he pushed himself off the rather comfortable chair he had taken up residence on.
Making his way into the hallways, he made a left and then another. The smell of smoke filled the hallway, despite the fire long being put out, but what was left of the room was depressing. After Angel had commanded them not to damage her household, this was what had become of… some room he couldn’t even identify now. Heading along the wall, he peeked in at the alchemical laboratory, finding Lighteria hard at work. Rather than startling the excitable twinblade, he let him be. Perhaps his experiments would benefit them at some point.
The room across from the lab was the most pristine of all. In fact, it was probably the goal of Angel’s Mansion finalized. Somehow, everything that was to be found in the room had been, and with no destruction involved. In fact, with the sheets replaced, it was more pristine than it had been before. Not that Nighthand had seen it before; he merely noted with a smile the false skeleton hanging from the closet doorway, the lack of ash, and the seeming proper placement of everything else.
Moving on and coming to the kitchen area, Nighthand could still note the evidence of destruction. While most of the room was made of metal or ceramic, there was water, alcohol, and soot stains everywhere. Nothing seemed TOO damaged, though… which still wasn’t necessarily a good sign.
Across the hall from the kitchen was the impressive trophy room, the evidence of Zan’s presence made clear. The destruction and subsequent attempted repair of the main trophy case was obvious… as was the graffiti on the wall. As amusing as it possibly was, it still couldn’t have been all that helpful in the long run. Shrugging, and having seen nothing so far interesting enough to examine in any of the rooms, he headed for the locked sixth door. It seemed to be the place at least some of the group was gathering to, anyways.
Nighthand arrived just in time to see Canti, in a fit of inspiration or perhaps simple common sense, try the key he had found on the lock of the sixth door. It turned with a satisfying click and the door swung open. Quickly, Nighthand shot off a Flashmail to the group to make sure everyone knew.
Flashmail!
From: Nighthand
To: The Group
RE: Room Six is Open
(No Body)
The room that was revealed was unlike any of the other rooms in the mansion thus far, though perhaps that was to be expected. It was, for lack of a better word, a kind of practice room or dojo. The walls were painted a stark white, and for the most part were empty. Only a small portion of the walls were covered; some placed with oriental script or artwork, and in other places with weapons. While all sorts of weapons were represented, a preference was displayed for bows, rapiers, and other thin swords. None of them, however, were actual game items, so try as the group might, they wouldn’t budge from their racks or wall stands.
The floor itself was padded with a soft beige material, sufficient to make a fall less damaging than otherwise would be. The room itself was lit by torches all along the walls, and a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling at symmetrical points.
Standing in the middle of the room was Angel herself, holding in one hand a triangle of golden metal attached to a similarly golden chain that trailed into the floor and disappeared. Her expression, though she had waited this long patiently enough for them to arrive, was furious.
She waited silently for certain people to arrive. While the group was still low in strength, none of them gave in to the no-doubt powerful urge to attack her where she stood. It was always better to do so at full strength, if possible.
Once the five she had most wanted to arrive did, she began. Those five, though it wasn’t too hard to guess the way her glare passed from one to the next, were Zan, Rayo, Zhao, Raquar, and Phoenix.
”I told you not to destroy my mansion, and yet you do. You five shall pay for each of your wrongs! Zan! You destroy my trophy case, steal my money, and leave your mark on my wall! Though you work slightly in your favor by putting out the fires started by the others, your debt is in no way paid. Rayo! You steal items not meant for you from my kitchen, break my fine china, and somehow manage to both flood and set fire to the room! Unacceptable. Zhao, Raquar… the pair of you have wreaked damage beyond measure to my sitting room. You have never in your lives seen the GP total it would take to replace even a third of that damage! Your debt is beyond payable. Phoenix, your sin is least among your peers, having only stolen a few small items… and yet still, it is your wrong to right!
I even had the generosity to leave rewards for you, should you find misplaced items in my rooms and return them to their proper places. Your greed in not accepting simply those surpasses even my own. So I face you now with your penance!”
With that, several things happened at once. An abrupt shine of light passed over the doorway, quickly disappearing. Angel yanked up on the chain she held, and revealed with it was a head. A face with little more than black-rimmed orange eyes and a vaguely conical nose, bordered by a crest of hair that stuck up and to one side, stared blankly at them. A second yank revealed a collar of gold around the creature’s neck, the chain attached to it. From there, its own will took over. Black-tipped hands on wing-like swirled arms rose from the ground, gripping the padding and pulling itself up. A mottled pattern of purple and teal marked the torso of the otherwise white creature. Legs to match the arms were revealed, along with a pair of stylized wings extending from the back of the creatures waist.
Angel too was abruptly covered by a sheen of light, however, this one stayed in place. Her body was surrounded by an aura of gold that extended down the chain in her grip and around the collar of her pet.
It seemed they were beyond the ability of gold to help them from their situation; it was time for blood.
--------------------------ooc:
Angel and Pet
![Image](http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1154/1066314123_ff64e91675_o.jpg)
Note, and this is important.
Rayo, Zan, Phoenix, Zhao, and Raquar are unable to leave the room. They are also the only ones that Angel and her pet will target.
All others in the room, when attacking either of the two, will discover that their attacks do 0 damage. The first time. In fact, everything they try to do will result in no effect; essentially being completely ignored. HOWEVER. The more you try to attack, if you’re not one of the five listed, the more eventually you’ll be able to do. If you attack enough, your attack power will be back to normal… however, Angel and her pet will then consider you a target as well.
If you are not one of the five listed, you are free to leave the room and re-enter, unless you’ve become one of Angel’s targets. At that point, her barrier extends to you as well. Also, if you do some damage to her mansion while outside, the next time you enter, you’ll be a target, but still have no attack power until you build it back up.
Let’s see how we can manage a boss fight at two posts a week, since we blew through the first chunk of the quest that fast… Oh yeah, and this isn’t the final boss. It’s part of the final boss, but you’re not going to have to face four forms in a row right now.
Edit: If someone not targeted heals someone who is, it has the same effect as them attacking the boss.
Making his way into the hallways, he made a left and then another. The smell of smoke filled the hallway, despite the fire long being put out, but what was left of the room was depressing. After Angel had commanded them not to damage her household, this was what had become of… some room he couldn’t even identify now. Heading along the wall, he peeked in at the alchemical laboratory, finding Lighteria hard at work. Rather than startling the excitable twinblade, he let him be. Perhaps his experiments would benefit them at some point.
The room across from the lab was the most pristine of all. In fact, it was probably the goal of Angel’s Mansion finalized. Somehow, everything that was to be found in the room had been, and with no destruction involved. In fact, with the sheets replaced, it was more pristine than it had been before. Not that Nighthand had seen it before; he merely noted with a smile the false skeleton hanging from the closet doorway, the lack of ash, and the seeming proper placement of everything else.
Moving on and coming to the kitchen area, Nighthand could still note the evidence of destruction. While most of the room was made of metal or ceramic, there was water, alcohol, and soot stains everywhere. Nothing seemed TOO damaged, though… which still wasn’t necessarily a good sign.
Across the hall from the kitchen was the impressive trophy room, the evidence of Zan’s presence made clear. The destruction and subsequent attempted repair of the main trophy case was obvious… as was the graffiti on the wall. As amusing as it possibly was, it still couldn’t have been all that helpful in the long run. Shrugging, and having seen nothing so far interesting enough to examine in any of the rooms, he headed for the locked sixth door. It seemed to be the place at least some of the group was gathering to, anyways.
Nighthand arrived just in time to see Canti, in a fit of inspiration or perhaps simple common sense, try the key he had found on the lock of the sixth door. It turned with a satisfying click and the door swung open. Quickly, Nighthand shot off a Flashmail to the group to make sure everyone knew.
Flashmail!
From: Nighthand
To: The Group
RE: Room Six is Open
(No Body)
The room that was revealed was unlike any of the other rooms in the mansion thus far, though perhaps that was to be expected. It was, for lack of a better word, a kind of practice room or dojo. The walls were painted a stark white, and for the most part were empty. Only a small portion of the walls were covered; some placed with oriental script or artwork, and in other places with weapons. While all sorts of weapons were represented, a preference was displayed for bows, rapiers, and other thin swords. None of them, however, were actual game items, so try as the group might, they wouldn’t budge from their racks or wall stands.
The floor itself was padded with a soft beige material, sufficient to make a fall less damaging than otherwise would be. The room itself was lit by torches all along the walls, and a few lanterns hanging from the ceiling at symmetrical points.
Standing in the middle of the room was Angel herself, holding in one hand a triangle of golden metal attached to a similarly golden chain that trailed into the floor and disappeared. Her expression, though she had waited this long patiently enough for them to arrive, was furious.
She waited silently for certain people to arrive. While the group was still low in strength, none of them gave in to the no-doubt powerful urge to attack her where she stood. It was always better to do so at full strength, if possible.
Once the five she had most wanted to arrive did, she began. Those five, though it wasn’t too hard to guess the way her glare passed from one to the next, were Zan, Rayo, Zhao, Raquar, and Phoenix.
”I told you not to destroy my mansion, and yet you do. You five shall pay for each of your wrongs! Zan! You destroy my trophy case, steal my money, and leave your mark on my wall! Though you work slightly in your favor by putting out the fires started by the others, your debt is in no way paid. Rayo! You steal items not meant for you from my kitchen, break my fine china, and somehow manage to both flood and set fire to the room! Unacceptable. Zhao, Raquar… the pair of you have wreaked damage beyond measure to my sitting room. You have never in your lives seen the GP total it would take to replace even a third of that damage! Your debt is beyond payable. Phoenix, your sin is least among your peers, having only stolen a few small items… and yet still, it is your wrong to right!
I even had the generosity to leave rewards for you, should you find misplaced items in my rooms and return them to their proper places. Your greed in not accepting simply those surpasses even my own. So I face you now with your penance!”
With that, several things happened at once. An abrupt shine of light passed over the doorway, quickly disappearing. Angel yanked up on the chain she held, and revealed with it was a head. A face with little more than black-rimmed orange eyes and a vaguely conical nose, bordered by a crest of hair that stuck up and to one side, stared blankly at them. A second yank revealed a collar of gold around the creature’s neck, the chain attached to it. From there, its own will took over. Black-tipped hands on wing-like swirled arms rose from the ground, gripping the padding and pulling itself up. A mottled pattern of purple and teal marked the torso of the otherwise white creature. Legs to match the arms were revealed, along with a pair of stylized wings extending from the back of the creatures waist.
Angel too was abruptly covered by a sheen of light, however, this one stayed in place. Her body was surrounded by an aura of gold that extended down the chain in her grip and around the collar of her pet.
It seemed they were beyond the ability of gold to help them from their situation; it was time for blood.
--------------------------ooc:
Angel and Pet
![Image](http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1154/1066314123_ff64e91675_o.jpg)
Note, and this is important.
Rayo, Zan, Phoenix, Zhao, and Raquar are unable to leave the room. They are also the only ones that Angel and her pet will target.
All others in the room, when attacking either of the two, will discover that their attacks do 0 damage. The first time. In fact, everything they try to do will result in no effect; essentially being completely ignored. HOWEVER. The more you try to attack, if you’re not one of the five listed, the more eventually you’ll be able to do. If you attack enough, your attack power will be back to normal… however, Angel and her pet will then consider you a target as well.
If you are not one of the five listed, you are free to leave the room and re-enter, unless you’ve become one of Angel’s targets. At that point, her barrier extends to you as well. Also, if you do some damage to her mansion while outside, the next time you enter, you’ll be a target, but still have no attack power until you build it back up.
Let’s see how we can manage a boss fight at two posts a week, since we blew through the first chunk of the quest that fast… Oh yeah, and this isn’t the final boss. It’s part of the final boss, but you’re not going to have to face four forms in a row right now.
Edit: If someone not targeted heals someone who is, it has the same effect as them attacking the boss.
![Image](http://static.flickr.com/48/185807763_8ac187a5da_o.jpg)
Wishlist: Any Armor or Weapons under level 50, Any Scrolls (prefer level 2+)
Nighthand’s message was enough to make the archer trot back out into the hallways and find his way to the one room he hadn’t been able to access earlier. Unfortunately, there was an angry angel waiting there. The boss went through her own change, perhaps as a result of their own destructive actions, an additional creature also was on her side for the fight. The last of Marionette’s toys to have multiple targets was Primal’s final form with his spinning blades, but numerically they still held the advantage. One or two, that didn’t differ.
The most important part was her anger, she was definitely pissed enough to channel her hate on the five of them first. If she kept that focus the others would have an easier time dealing with her. Step one, communicate. Step two, raise the abilities of the group. Step three, decrease the capability for movement for their enemies. Finally, attack. His battle plan was simple, but it still was grasping at sound logic.
<Freedom Fighters
She’ll probably want to deal with the ones she mentioned first, so we should play along. We’ll raise our defense and keep her distracted. During that time, everyone else can pump their own stats to their heart’s content and then jump in and get in some nice hits once you’re all ready. Try not to let us die off, thanks.
Rayo>
<Zan, Phoenix, Zhao, Raquar
Let’s try to keep the two of them close together. Once I’m ready I’ll go up in order to take her back, if Zhao and Raquar want to take her right side, Phoenix her left… I’m sure we can trust the front to our favorite slaughterhouse.
Rayo>
Everyone could simply ignore his plans, but if he was lucky and perhaps a little respected half of them would go along with it. The best he could do was trust in them and prepare his part of the plan. The archer gulped down a pair of bloods, both the knight and beast varieties. His defenses were up, no matter what sort of attack Angel and her companion launched on them. Next was to prepare the others in a similar fashion.
“Ap Vorv, Ap Vorma! Ap Vorma, Ap Vorv! Ap Vorv, Ap Vorma! Ap Vorma, Ap Vorv!”
It had been painstakingly easy to decide on what to use to guard the group, but to weaken the bosses? Were their defenses high, their accuracy or power too great? Would they move swiftly, attack from a distance or at close range? Were any elements preferred, or did Angel use all equally or none at all? No banes could be used effectively, so the thought defense popped into the bowman’s mind once more as he flung a pair of scrolls in front of him. Each was a copy of The Moon, magical sleep wrapped into a unsuspecting little piece of parchment. If even one worked, either the main threat or her sideshow would be temporarily out of it.
“Phoenix Arrow!”
The former mage made the cry just after jumping, a series of three arrows left their mark following one another as Rayo traveled overhead via plain and normal jumping. If the status scrolls went into effect as hoped, they’d strike their marks without question. The first had been for Angel, the next for her pet, and the last for her again. So long as the other four worked with his plan however, he had no doubt he’d land safely behind the duo and start taking more powerful cheap shots from the rear.
The plan hinged upon cooperation, something that would no doubt be suffering from the personal trials the group had been undergoing continuously since Devil’s demise. …Not a bad movie title either, Devil’s Demise, The Second Chapter of Marionette’s Undoing. If the puppeteer ever got his/her head on a spike on a tower somewhere, he’d have to direct such a movie. Bad jokes aside, until either of their opponents made moves, it’d be impossible to judge where the first round of fighting would take them.
ooc:
Go Team FTW! Don’t let me down!
Blue: Ap Vorv, Ap Vorma
The most important part was her anger, she was definitely pissed enough to channel her hate on the five of them first. If she kept that focus the others would have an easier time dealing with her. Step one, communicate. Step two, raise the abilities of the group. Step three, decrease the capability for movement for their enemies. Finally, attack. His battle plan was simple, but it still was grasping at sound logic.
<Freedom Fighters
She’ll probably want to deal with the ones she mentioned first, so we should play along. We’ll raise our defense and keep her distracted. During that time, everyone else can pump their own stats to their heart’s content and then jump in and get in some nice hits once you’re all ready. Try not to let us die off, thanks.
Rayo>
<Zan, Phoenix, Zhao, Raquar
Let’s try to keep the two of them close together. Once I’m ready I’ll go up in order to take her back, if Zhao and Raquar want to take her right side, Phoenix her left… I’m sure we can trust the front to our favorite slaughterhouse.
Rayo>
Everyone could simply ignore his plans, but if he was lucky and perhaps a little respected half of them would go along with it. The best he could do was trust in them and prepare his part of the plan. The archer gulped down a pair of bloods, both the knight and beast varieties. His defenses were up, no matter what sort of attack Angel and her companion launched on them. Next was to prepare the others in a similar fashion.
“Ap Vorv, Ap Vorma! Ap Vorma, Ap Vorv! Ap Vorv, Ap Vorma! Ap Vorma, Ap Vorv!”
It had been painstakingly easy to decide on what to use to guard the group, but to weaken the bosses? Were their defenses high, their accuracy or power too great? Would they move swiftly, attack from a distance or at close range? Were any elements preferred, or did Angel use all equally or none at all? No banes could be used effectively, so the thought defense popped into the bowman’s mind once more as he flung a pair of scrolls in front of him. Each was a copy of The Moon, magical sleep wrapped into a unsuspecting little piece of parchment. If even one worked, either the main threat or her sideshow would be temporarily out of it.
“Phoenix Arrow!”
The former mage made the cry just after jumping, a series of three arrows left their mark following one another as Rayo traveled overhead via plain and normal jumping. If the status scrolls went into effect as hoped, they’d strike their marks without question. The first had been for Angel, the next for her pet, and the last for her again. So long as the other four worked with his plan however, he had no doubt he’d land safely behind the duo and start taking more powerful cheap shots from the rear.
The plan hinged upon cooperation, something that would no doubt be suffering from the personal trials the group had been undergoing continuously since Devil’s demise. …Not a bad movie title either, Devil’s Demise, The Second Chapter of Marionette’s Undoing. If the puppeteer ever got his/her head on a spike on a tower somewhere, he’d have to direct such a movie. Bad jokes aside, until either of their opponents made moves, it’d be impossible to judge where the first round of fighting would take them.
ooc:
Go Team FTW! Don’t let me down!
Blue: Ap Vorv, Ap Vorma
Rayo
Lv.47 Archer 745HP/311SP
Bell, the Silver Grunty of Thunder
Skills/Spells-Shocking Arrow of Voltage(30), Arrow of the Burning Stars(10), MeRai Rom(40), Rai Kruz(10), La Repth(20), Rip Maen(40), MeRai Kruz(20), GiVak Kruz(20), MeRai Don(20), Rig Saem(15)
Weapon/Armor/Book-Golden Royal Bow/Thunder Torque, Thunder Cloak, Able Ring, Ivory Greaves/Thunder Magic
Wishlist: YL Fukuoka, Stormlore, Winter Stone, Silver Grunty
Lv.47 Archer 745HP/311SP
Bell, the Silver Grunty of Thunder
Skills/Spells-Shocking Arrow of Voltage(30), Arrow of the Burning Stars(10), MeRai Rom(40), Rai Kruz(10), La Repth(20), Rip Maen(40), MeRai Kruz(20), GiVak Kruz(20), MeRai Don(20), Rig Saem(15)
Weapon/Armor/Book-Golden Royal Bow/Thunder Torque, Thunder Cloak, Able Ring, Ivory Greaves/Thunder Magic
Wishlist: YL Fukuoka, Stormlore, Winter Stone, Silver Grunty
-
- Exalted Player
- Posts: 304
- Joined: Thu Nov 13, 2003 10:42 pm
Phoenix was standing by at the sixth room as Canti finally arrives with the key to try to open the lock. He saw Nighthand coming back a moment later as the twin blade unlocks the final room and opens the door. Once the door was opened, Phoenix immediately walked into the room and began to inspect the room. To the blademaster, it was a typical dojo room except that the weapons were not Japanese but more like weapons that someone with plenty of wealth would possess and practice with.
Phoenix saw the hostess standing in the center of the room which he made sure to keep back from her and not to close to her. He waited for the others to arrive and once Rayo, Xhao, Raquar, and Zan entered the room, the fun was about to begin. Angel was certainly pissed due to the destruction of the mansion and wanted revenge against the people who were responsible for the destruction. Even though Phoenix did not destroy anything for destroying the lab, he did take a couple of Knight’s Bloods in the process. He was proud for not destroying the lab but it did not matter to Angel though. An eye for an eye was Angel’s agenda at the moment.
Angel soon revealed that she had been holding on that gold chain was a monster but it seems to be her pet. The blademaster drew out the Bloody Pain from his sheathe and was ready for battle. Angel, if you have a pet, I should bring out mine as well. Suzaku, it’s time for action.
Phoenix grabbed the necklace with his left hand and threw into the air. The necklace soon transformed into the firebird herself, Suzaku. After that action, he received a flashmail from Rayo about a battle plan. At this point, he had no better course of action to take and decided to follow the archer’s plan.
The blademaster had Suzaku followed him as he went towards Angel’s left side as Rayo directed him to do so. With the enhanced accuracy, Phoenix should be able to hit either one of them with the Wind Blade without too much trouble. He swung his sword vertically at Angel first for the Wind Blade and did the same for the pet immediately after he fired the first one.
Suzaku followed up the Wind Blade attacks with the newly enhanced fire breath attack. The fire engulfed the duo but something was seriously wrong. It did not affect them at all. Even if they had high fire defense, they should have gotten a little bit of damage. Phoenix was concerned by this development and cast a BiVak Rom at Angel’s pet. This time, the fiery tornado attack had better results in causing damage compared to Suzaku’s fire breath attack.
I guess she must going for an eye for an eye after all. Pissed her off and she will fight you for blood. Don’t pissed her off means you’re in the clear but unable to help in the fight.
Flashmail
To: Freedom Fighters
From: Phoenix
There’s a problem. Just now, my pet’s fire attack was ineffective but my own fire attack was effective in dealing damage. I’m guessing that she’s really into the revenge thing. Only the people who managed to piss her off can only damage her. So if you want to join the fight for real, destroy some stuff.
End Flashmail
After sending the flashmail, Phoenix had one more thing for Suzaku to do. Cast Ap Corv on me, Zan, Rayo, Xhao, and Raquar. Then I want you to be on standby. There’s no sense for you to get involved any more at the moment. Just don’t get in anyone’s way.
The guardian gave Phoenix a quick nod before casting the strengthening spell on the Targeted Five before flying high into the ceiling and observing the battle. With Phoenix’s sword out in front of Angel and her pet, he was ready to defend from their attacks whatever that maybe. I hoped I don’t get killed quickly or die in just one attack.
OOC: Ap Corv on Phoenix, Xhao, Raquar, Zan, and Rayo
Phoenix saw the hostess standing in the center of the room which he made sure to keep back from her and not to close to her. He waited for the others to arrive and once Rayo, Xhao, Raquar, and Zan entered the room, the fun was about to begin. Angel was certainly pissed due to the destruction of the mansion and wanted revenge against the people who were responsible for the destruction. Even though Phoenix did not destroy anything for destroying the lab, he did take a couple of Knight’s Bloods in the process. He was proud for not destroying the lab but it did not matter to Angel though. An eye for an eye was Angel’s agenda at the moment.
Angel soon revealed that she had been holding on that gold chain was a monster but it seems to be her pet. The blademaster drew out the Bloody Pain from his sheathe and was ready for battle. Angel, if you have a pet, I should bring out mine as well. Suzaku, it’s time for action.
Phoenix grabbed the necklace with his left hand and threw into the air. The necklace soon transformed into the firebird herself, Suzaku. After that action, he received a flashmail from Rayo about a battle plan. At this point, he had no better course of action to take and decided to follow the archer’s plan.
The blademaster had Suzaku followed him as he went towards Angel’s left side as Rayo directed him to do so. With the enhanced accuracy, Phoenix should be able to hit either one of them with the Wind Blade without too much trouble. He swung his sword vertically at Angel first for the Wind Blade and did the same for the pet immediately after he fired the first one.
Suzaku followed up the Wind Blade attacks with the newly enhanced fire breath attack. The fire engulfed the duo but something was seriously wrong. It did not affect them at all. Even if they had high fire defense, they should have gotten a little bit of damage. Phoenix was concerned by this development and cast a BiVak Rom at Angel’s pet. This time, the fiery tornado attack had better results in causing damage compared to Suzaku’s fire breath attack.
I guess she must going for an eye for an eye after all. Pissed her off and she will fight you for blood. Don’t pissed her off means you’re in the clear but unable to help in the fight.
Flashmail
To: Freedom Fighters
From: Phoenix
There’s a problem. Just now, my pet’s fire attack was ineffective but my own fire attack was effective in dealing damage. I’m guessing that she’s really into the revenge thing. Only the people who managed to piss her off can only damage her. So if you want to join the fight for real, destroy some stuff.
End Flashmail
After sending the flashmail, Phoenix had one more thing for Suzaku to do. Cast Ap Corv on me, Zan, Rayo, Xhao, and Raquar. Then I want you to be on standby. There’s no sense for you to get involved any more at the moment. Just don’t get in anyone’s way.
The guardian gave Phoenix a quick nod before casting the strengthening spell on the Targeted Five before flying high into the ceiling and observing the battle. With Phoenix’s sword out in front of Angel and her pet, he was ready to defend from their attacks whatever that maybe. I hoped I don’t get killed quickly or die in just one attack.
OOC: Ap Corv on Phoenix, Xhao, Raquar, Zan, and Rayo
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
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
The figure in the chair seemed to not be everybody’s favorite person at the moment. Which was understandable if he had outbreaks like the one that he and Zhao had suffered, but still; the raving were more or less directly on point, and in the boy’s case, it addressed something he hadn’t really thought of. Could the mansion burn down? He slowly approached the Heavyblade he had run into earlier while everybody else was off doing their own thing. ”Don’t you just seem to be everybody’s favorite person today.”
Nul, expecting some sort of assault or verbal attempt at a beatdown, stood up to block Raquar's path, all-too-human arms crossing over the overlapped runes on his shirt and waist-length leather jacket in turn. "Nul, it's fine. I don't think he's here to cause problems." Zan's partner sat down. The Lycan glanced back up. "Are you, Raquar?"
He shrugged somebody, or something erected itself as a barrier in his path before settling back down at the words from the Heavyblade. ”I doubt it. Apparently redecoration isn’t exactly my forte. Though, not many people knew or know me, so I’m sure this wasn’t exactly a great first impression.”
The werewolf simply shrugged, still obviously agitated from having to clean up after Raquar's stupid mistake.
The boy sensed some agitation from the older player and heaved an exasperated sigh. ”Don’t do this to me. It’s not like you didn’t break anything either. The least we could do is stick together, especially if we’re the only ones getting in trouble.”
Zan waved his hand dismissively. "What I did and what you did are different. I thought my actions the solution, and they earned me what I wanted. The carving was...excessive...but really, I'm all for destroying her house. However, your methods were irrational and put us all in immediate danger. Do not even try to put me on the same plate as you, kid." Nul snickered.
He snorted. ”Does it honestly make a difference? We’re both gonna be fucked either way most likely. You want to huff it on your own or try to take it up with Angel, ‘Oh what I did wasn’t quite as bad spare me?’ C’mon think rationally here. Any destruction at all is gonna piss her off. Doesn’t matter how much, or how little, destruction is destruction. It’ll be easier when she takes it out of our hide if we’re all together.”
Zan snarled, fist slamming down into the table, cracking and splintering its surface. "You aren't LISTENING. I don't care if we piss her off. I don't care about the fucking cunt's opinions. I care that you could have hurt us. I care that you could have killed us. You want to piss off Angel, do it. Destroy her house? Go ahead. Just do not, for one second, consider doing something that could hurt those around you. Your friends. Your comrades. That's where I crack down."
He held back a laugh. ”You’re not giving Angel any credit here are you? You honestly think she’d let the mansion burn down? Look, you’re right. It was a reckless decision and it probably wasn’t the best of ideas, and I do regret that. Hell, I apologize for it, but its not like she would’ve let it burn down around us. We weren’t in any danger, especially with somebody who cares as much about her belongings as she does.”
Zan shook his head, disappointed. "So ignorant. Yes, she would have eventually stopped it...but how many would have died before she thought it enough, before she stepped in? How many would burn alive, how many would die screaming because of you? We were in plenty of fucking danger."
He started to get exasperated, which in turn led to anger. ”So you think they’re all stupid enough to go down in a burning blaze? She said we could leave Zan, all we had to do was walk out the door. Look alright, I know it was a fucking bad idea, but there’s not much I can fucking do about now. I don’t exactly see you yelling at whoever else set their room on fire.”
Zan laughed; dry and bitter. "Oh, that would make them stupid? So people who could caught in their houses every day and burn alive are stupid? Wow. 'Guess I never thought of that before. Dumbass." Nul seemed entertained. "And if I knew who had set their room on fire, I would have gone after them next. Now, however, it's ceased being worth my time. If they're going to take as little responsibility as you with half the childish anger, it'd only lead to violence." The werewolf pointed forward. "Now leave me alone, you're giving me a headache."
The boy snorted again. It was bullshit. He wanted to play all high and mighty because he didn’t set something on fire so fucking be it. The boy shoved up from the table, the conversation turning pointless quickly. ”So be it.” He turned away, looking for somebody he could actually talk to. Zhao maybe.
The person in question had happened to wander back in with the Twin Blade he had been escorting around. The boy approached him, only to hesitate at first. His face was streaked with what would appear to be tears. ”We really di - . . . Hey man, you alright?”
Zhao looked to Raquar, still not making any move to remove the evidence of his recent breakdown. "Well... sort of. I'm better than I was a few moments ago, but... on a whole, I'm worse off than anytime you've known me." Which was an admittedly short span, but it still gave the Long Arm an idea of how he felt
It concerned him to see his new friend like this. ”What’s going on?”
Zhao's face went through several emotions at light speed: confusion, wonder, pain, and finally acceptance, after which he nodded, more to himself than to Raquar. "Alright. You... you deserve to know. I'll keep it simple, since we don't have all that much time, but... I trust you. And if you're going to be around me, you need to know. Are you ready?" The player locked his eyes directly onto those of the Long Arm, and they seemed to phase ever so slightly towards black, then back to their usual midnight blue, and then brighten before repeating the cycle.
The Twin Blade’s eyes faded into black, before quickly reverting back to their standard blue. ”Somebody else harbored inside you too?”
Zhao was taken aback a bit, but shook his head slightly. "Not exactly. I'm... I'm not the original."
”That . . . That has to be strange. I know what’s its like to have somebody else, but to be somebody else? And from what I can gather I take it the original wasn’t a very nice fellow?” No matter Zhao, I trust who you are now, even if you’re not as you say, the original, you’re still a fine enough guy in my book.”
The boy nodded, but didn't seem to be through. "The most important thing is this. I told Canti, I'm going to tell Dien, and I'm telling you now. If I start acting... well, evil or malicious in any way... you have to stop me. Alright? Here's the short version. I'm a creation of a brilliant, and I mean brilliant, child murderer. Not a killer of children a child who killed. I fought him for control recently. I won. He can't do anything, but...." There was definite remorse in Zhao's voice as he spoke these next words. "I had to absorb him. He's still the original; now he's like a base that I stand on. He supports my existence. While I'm 99% me... if that 1% pokes through, stop it, alright?"
”I’ll do what I can short of killing you.” The words were spoken simply and too the point.
The Twin Blade looked deadly serious. "Raq... if it comes to that... well, I'd rather it be you than anyone else. He considered his words, and then the briefest ghost of a smile crossed his face before vanishing into thin air. "Strange, eh? I met you so recently, but... I have complete faith in you."
He smiled briefly at his slightly shorter counterpart. ”And I in you. Funny isn’t it?” His voice took on a slightly more somber and serious note. ”If that’s what it comes down to I’ll do it. But you will be able to come back won’t you?”
"Who's to say? But... better to die, and not hurt any of you, than to live and do any sort of harm. Even the miniscule amount of hurt I could inflict... I never want to have to deal with having hurt one of you. Ever. So, if you can't slap me back to my senses, do whatever it takes."
An unsettling memory resurfaced at the boy’s words. ”I . . . I know what you mean. And if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it, you have my word. But if it comes to that, you also have my word that I’ll find a way to get you back. That’s my promise, as a friend.”
"Good. It's settled then. And Raq... thanks." The boy didn't look happy, but he was indeed peaceful. Tear stains still glistened on his cheeks, but now they were not there as penance in his mind, but simply because he didn't notice them. Nothing would bother him now that he had that promise secured.
The Long Arm nodded. One could never have enough friends in a situation as precarious as this. Speaking of friends. He reached hastily into his robe withdrawing Zhao’s allotted recover items from the chest he had found. A Healing Elixer, Recovery Drink, and pair of both Health Potions and Health Drinks later, the loot was split, and Nighthand’s flashmail reached the group. He followed the rest of the group into the new room, lagging behind somewhat as to not throw himself into the middle of a group that didn’t think very highly of him at the moment. The room was a dojo of sorts, complete with its own Angel who spoke as soon as they had all entered the room. The stark white walls were the first thing he noticed as he stepped into the room. They were completely white, the only spots on them being the various weapons that would hung on the walls. That wasn’t the main attraction in the room however. The main attraction was Angel and the golden chain she currently held in her hand leading to the floor. She spoke directly addressing the five of them, and she was not happy.
At the termination of her monologue, lots of things happened. A quick sheen of light flashed over the doorway, erecting some sort of barrier to keep them from retreating, a few yanks of the chain revealed some sort of creature that could only be described as some sort of human bird hybrid from the depths of the floor, and another covering of gold light blanketed Angel. And then they sprung into action. First to come was Rayo’s flashmail, followed by his spells, then Phoenix’s flashmail along with his spells. The plan sounded fine, both he and Zhao moving slightly off to the right. The only actual stat boosting spell he had had been already been cast by Rayo, so that would completely defeat the purpose of him doing it as well. The only thing left, was for him to boost himself up a bit.
He dug around in his vest a bit, pulling out a Cooked Bile before uncorking it and downing the contents. That done, his mind reached out to the corners of the room, hunting for any darkness he might be able to use.
Protection. I ask your assistance to keep me alive.
Heeding his call for help, the darkness took its place around him again, the wisps circling and leaping around his body. The humming was stronger this time, bolstered by the effects of the Cooked Bile. He could almost feel himself vibrating in sync to it. Having aligned his protection for the moment, it was now time to get down to business. His best bet was to stay back at this point, didn’t want to get too close if he could avoid it. He called out to the darkness again, this time having it collect into the palm of his hand. The small orb swirled with energy as the boy levied his hand as he would do if casting a spell. However, no words were spoken as the sphere was fired off, this one at the pet, the next one he formed at Angel herself. He could only hope that he would be of some assistance, and not simply a burden onto others.
Nul, expecting some sort of assault or verbal attempt at a beatdown, stood up to block Raquar's path, all-too-human arms crossing over the overlapped runes on his shirt and waist-length leather jacket in turn. "Nul, it's fine. I don't think he's here to cause problems." Zan's partner sat down. The Lycan glanced back up. "Are you, Raquar?"
He shrugged somebody, or something erected itself as a barrier in his path before settling back down at the words from the Heavyblade. ”I doubt it. Apparently redecoration isn’t exactly my forte. Though, not many people knew or know me, so I’m sure this wasn’t exactly a great first impression.”
The werewolf simply shrugged, still obviously agitated from having to clean up after Raquar's stupid mistake.
The boy sensed some agitation from the older player and heaved an exasperated sigh. ”Don’t do this to me. It’s not like you didn’t break anything either. The least we could do is stick together, especially if we’re the only ones getting in trouble.”
Zan waved his hand dismissively. "What I did and what you did are different. I thought my actions the solution, and they earned me what I wanted. The carving was...excessive...but really, I'm all for destroying her house. However, your methods were irrational and put us all in immediate danger. Do not even try to put me on the same plate as you, kid." Nul snickered.
He snorted. ”Does it honestly make a difference? We’re both gonna be fucked either way most likely. You want to huff it on your own or try to take it up with Angel, ‘Oh what I did wasn’t quite as bad spare me?’ C’mon think rationally here. Any destruction at all is gonna piss her off. Doesn’t matter how much, or how little, destruction is destruction. It’ll be easier when she takes it out of our hide if we’re all together.”
Zan snarled, fist slamming down into the table, cracking and splintering its surface. "You aren't LISTENING. I don't care if we piss her off. I don't care about the fucking cunt's opinions. I care that you could have hurt us. I care that you could have killed us. You want to piss off Angel, do it. Destroy her house? Go ahead. Just do not, for one second, consider doing something that could hurt those around you. Your friends. Your comrades. That's where I crack down."
He held back a laugh. ”You’re not giving Angel any credit here are you? You honestly think she’d let the mansion burn down? Look, you’re right. It was a reckless decision and it probably wasn’t the best of ideas, and I do regret that. Hell, I apologize for it, but its not like she would’ve let it burn down around us. We weren’t in any danger, especially with somebody who cares as much about her belongings as she does.”
Zan shook his head, disappointed. "So ignorant. Yes, she would have eventually stopped it...but how many would have died before she thought it enough, before she stepped in? How many would burn alive, how many would die screaming because of you? We were in plenty of fucking danger."
He started to get exasperated, which in turn led to anger. ”So you think they’re all stupid enough to go down in a burning blaze? She said we could leave Zan, all we had to do was walk out the door. Look alright, I know it was a fucking bad idea, but there’s not much I can fucking do about now. I don’t exactly see you yelling at whoever else set their room on fire.”
Zan laughed; dry and bitter. "Oh, that would make them stupid? So people who could caught in their houses every day and burn alive are stupid? Wow. 'Guess I never thought of that before. Dumbass." Nul seemed entertained. "And if I knew who had set their room on fire, I would have gone after them next. Now, however, it's ceased being worth my time. If they're going to take as little responsibility as you with half the childish anger, it'd only lead to violence." The werewolf pointed forward. "Now leave me alone, you're giving me a headache."
The boy snorted again. It was bullshit. He wanted to play all high and mighty because he didn’t set something on fire so fucking be it. The boy shoved up from the table, the conversation turning pointless quickly. ”So be it.” He turned away, looking for somebody he could actually talk to. Zhao maybe.
The person in question had happened to wander back in with the Twin Blade he had been escorting around. The boy approached him, only to hesitate at first. His face was streaked with what would appear to be tears. ”We really di - . . . Hey man, you alright?”
Zhao looked to Raquar, still not making any move to remove the evidence of his recent breakdown. "Well... sort of. I'm better than I was a few moments ago, but... on a whole, I'm worse off than anytime you've known me." Which was an admittedly short span, but it still gave the Long Arm an idea of how he felt
It concerned him to see his new friend like this. ”What’s going on?”
Zhao's face went through several emotions at light speed: confusion, wonder, pain, and finally acceptance, after which he nodded, more to himself than to Raquar. "Alright. You... you deserve to know. I'll keep it simple, since we don't have all that much time, but... I trust you. And if you're going to be around me, you need to know. Are you ready?" The player locked his eyes directly onto those of the Long Arm, and they seemed to phase ever so slightly towards black, then back to their usual midnight blue, and then brighten before repeating the cycle.
The Twin Blade’s eyes faded into black, before quickly reverting back to their standard blue. ”Somebody else harbored inside you too?”
Zhao was taken aback a bit, but shook his head slightly. "Not exactly. I'm... I'm not the original."
”That . . . That has to be strange. I know what’s its like to have somebody else, but to be somebody else? And from what I can gather I take it the original wasn’t a very nice fellow?” No matter Zhao, I trust who you are now, even if you’re not as you say, the original, you’re still a fine enough guy in my book.”
The boy nodded, but didn't seem to be through. "The most important thing is this. I told Canti, I'm going to tell Dien, and I'm telling you now. If I start acting... well, evil or malicious in any way... you have to stop me. Alright? Here's the short version. I'm a creation of a brilliant, and I mean brilliant, child murderer. Not a killer of children a child who killed. I fought him for control recently. I won. He can't do anything, but...." There was definite remorse in Zhao's voice as he spoke these next words. "I had to absorb him. He's still the original; now he's like a base that I stand on. He supports my existence. While I'm 99% me... if that 1% pokes through, stop it, alright?"
”I’ll do what I can short of killing you.” The words were spoken simply and too the point.
The Twin Blade looked deadly serious. "Raq... if it comes to that... well, I'd rather it be you than anyone else. He considered his words, and then the briefest ghost of a smile crossed his face before vanishing into thin air. "Strange, eh? I met you so recently, but... I have complete faith in you."
He smiled briefly at his slightly shorter counterpart. ”And I in you. Funny isn’t it?” His voice took on a slightly more somber and serious note. ”If that’s what it comes down to I’ll do it. But you will be able to come back won’t you?”
"Who's to say? But... better to die, and not hurt any of you, than to live and do any sort of harm. Even the miniscule amount of hurt I could inflict... I never want to have to deal with having hurt one of you. Ever. So, if you can't slap me back to my senses, do whatever it takes."
An unsettling memory resurfaced at the boy’s words. ”I . . . I know what you mean. And if that’s what it takes, I’ll do it, you have my word. But if it comes to that, you also have my word that I’ll find a way to get you back. That’s my promise, as a friend.”
"Good. It's settled then. And Raq... thanks." The boy didn't look happy, but he was indeed peaceful. Tear stains still glistened on his cheeks, but now they were not there as penance in his mind, but simply because he didn't notice them. Nothing would bother him now that he had that promise secured.
The Long Arm nodded. One could never have enough friends in a situation as precarious as this. Speaking of friends. He reached hastily into his robe withdrawing Zhao’s allotted recover items from the chest he had found. A Healing Elixer, Recovery Drink, and pair of both Health Potions and Health Drinks later, the loot was split, and Nighthand’s flashmail reached the group. He followed the rest of the group into the new room, lagging behind somewhat as to not throw himself into the middle of a group that didn’t think very highly of him at the moment. The room was a dojo of sorts, complete with its own Angel who spoke as soon as they had all entered the room. The stark white walls were the first thing he noticed as he stepped into the room. They were completely white, the only spots on them being the various weapons that would hung on the walls. That wasn’t the main attraction in the room however. The main attraction was Angel and the golden chain she currently held in her hand leading to the floor. She spoke directly addressing the five of them, and she was not happy.
At the termination of her monologue, lots of things happened. A quick sheen of light flashed over the doorway, erecting some sort of barrier to keep them from retreating, a few yanks of the chain revealed some sort of creature that could only be described as some sort of human bird hybrid from the depths of the floor, and another covering of gold light blanketed Angel. And then they sprung into action. First to come was Rayo’s flashmail, followed by his spells, then Phoenix’s flashmail along with his spells. The plan sounded fine, both he and Zhao moving slightly off to the right. The only actual stat boosting spell he had had been already been cast by Rayo, so that would completely defeat the purpose of him doing it as well. The only thing left, was for him to boost himself up a bit.
He dug around in his vest a bit, pulling out a Cooked Bile before uncorking it and downing the contents. That done, his mind reached out to the corners of the room, hunting for any darkness he might be able to use.
Protection. I ask your assistance to keep me alive.
Heeding his call for help, the darkness took its place around him again, the wisps circling and leaping around his body. The humming was stronger this time, bolstered by the effects of the Cooked Bile. He could almost feel himself vibrating in sync to it. Having aligned his protection for the moment, it was now time to get down to business. His best bet was to stay back at this point, didn’t want to get too close if he could avoid it. He called out to the darkness again, this time having it collect into the palm of his hand. The small orb swirled with energy as the boy levied his hand as he would do if casting a spell. However, no words were spoken as the sphere was fired off, this one at the pet, the next one he formed at Angel herself. He could only hope that he would be of some assistance, and not simply a burden onto others.
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)
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)
Upon receiving Nighthand's message, Silk followed Rayo to Room 6, eager to find out what was in the only locked room so far. The inside was like the practice dojo straight out of the Matrix, but it wasn't anything special. Angel now wore what looked like a full-body armor suit -- it looked metallic and fearsome, but the Fist Fighter didn't lose hope.
Samus Aran was gorgeous beneath all of that red and gold metal, right?
Upon her arrival, she made another speech, this one basically laying out why she was pissed at five players in particular. Silk wasn't on the list, and he wondered why. I guess she didn't know that I filched her Captain Morgan's, eh? surmised the Fist Fighter. Oh come on... she had to have known.... but then... what could this mean? Silk smiled, the implications dawning on him. She must know! She must know that I stole the Captain Morgan's, but she isn't attacking me! This must mean she clearly has the hots for me, and that she wants to knock off this handle -- just me and her! Hm.... how to break this to her, though. That is the question.
Scratching his head, the Fist Fighter watched as the fight unfurled. Rayo let loose a trio of arrows, primarily shooting for Angel, but saving a special arrow for her pet. The Archer landed some distance away, but Silk made sure to close the distance immediately. Standing before the former mage, the Fist Fighter intended make due on their agreement from earlier.
But what if Angel takes this the wrong way, and thinks that I'm gay for Rayo? How am I supposed to get her on a date if she thinks I'm a flaming homo, always protecting the Archer? These thoughts clashed in his mind, but the ultimate slogan for men rang through his mind. Bros before hos! Bros before hos! Bros before hos! Nodding to himself, Silk resolved to do his manly duty; even so, he had hopes for bedding Angel somehow, some way. It would take a colossal effort, but he didn't doubt that he could do it.
Meanwhile, Phoenix and his pet fired off a salvo of attacks, revealing something interesting.
Flashmail
To: Freedom Fighters
From: Phoenix
There’s a problem. Just now, my pet’s fire attack was ineffective but my own fire attack was effective in dealing damage. I’m guessing that she’s really into the revenge thing. Only the people who managed to piss her off can only damage her. So if you want to join the fight for real, destroy some stuff.
End Flashmail
Silk nodded, unsure as to how to take this new information. At the same time, Raq, who the message really didn't apply to, fired off a heretofore unrevealed black orb move, hoping to deal his own fair share of damage.
The battle had begun.
Samus Aran was gorgeous beneath all of that red and gold metal, right?
Upon her arrival, she made another speech, this one basically laying out why she was pissed at five players in particular. Silk wasn't on the list, and he wondered why. I guess she didn't know that I filched her Captain Morgan's, eh? surmised the Fist Fighter. Oh come on... she had to have known.... but then... what could this mean? Silk smiled, the implications dawning on him. She must know! She must know that I stole the Captain Morgan's, but she isn't attacking me! This must mean she clearly has the hots for me, and that she wants to knock off this handle -- just me and her! Hm.... how to break this to her, though. That is the question.
Scratching his head, the Fist Fighter watched as the fight unfurled. Rayo let loose a trio of arrows, primarily shooting for Angel, but saving a special arrow for her pet. The Archer landed some distance away, but Silk made sure to close the distance immediately. Standing before the former mage, the Fist Fighter intended make due on their agreement from earlier.
But what if Angel takes this the wrong way, and thinks that I'm gay for Rayo? How am I supposed to get her on a date if she thinks I'm a flaming homo, always protecting the Archer? These thoughts clashed in his mind, but the ultimate slogan for men rang through his mind. Bros before hos! Bros before hos! Bros before hos! Nodding to himself, Silk resolved to do his manly duty; even so, he had hopes for bedding Angel somehow, some way. It would take a colossal effort, but he didn't doubt that he could do it.
Meanwhile, Phoenix and his pet fired off a salvo of attacks, revealing something interesting.
Flashmail
To: Freedom Fighters
From: Phoenix
There’s a problem. Just now, my pet’s fire attack was ineffective but my own fire attack was effective in dealing damage. I’m guessing that she’s really into the revenge thing. Only the people who managed to piss her off can only damage her. So if you want to join the fight for real, destroy some stuff.
End Flashmail
Silk nodded, unsure as to how to take this new information. At the same time, Raq, who the message really didn't apply to, fired off a heretofore unrevealed black orb move, hoping to deal his own fair share of damage.
The battle had begun.
Level 25 Fist Fighter
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband
Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher
Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items
Boxing Gloves | Nny Scales | Dice Gloves | Iron Anklet | Time Headband
Skills: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, GiVak Don, Ap Torma, Ap Do, Repth, Kiwami, Double Mortal Scorcher
Wishlist:
1.) Rare Foot Armor
2.) FF Belief
3.) Any stat-altering items
The words I had exchanged with Raquar but moments ago vanished from my mind, to be replaced by determination. Angel wanted us? So be it, she had us, and we were going to make her work for every hit point she wanted to shave off. Mere moments after the battle started, a flurry of buffs had rained down upon me, and they did more than simply make the digital body that housed my soul stronger. Each spell was like a whisper of confidence, as if the caster was telling me that they had faith in my ability to help. Rayo's idea of a group plan only strengthened that feeling, and the group of us that were in danger seemed to spring into action with a speed that I'd never seen before. True to Rayo's plan, Raquar and I moved to the left, ready to surround Angel and destroy her. She can't fathom the power that true teamwork brings, with nothing but that pet to help her fight. On her head be it. I looked to the Long Arm I was moving with, and spoke quickly. "You're in with Rayo's plan, I assume?"
His response was equally short. "Better than anything I would've come up with."
Close beside me, Raquar fired off small orbs of darkness, and I decided to complement them with what magic I could throw at our target. “Rai Rom! Rai Rom! Rai Rom!” The three thunder spells went off, striking hot on the heels of their opposed element, letting Angel know that we were damn well going to fight her every step of the way. However, Raquar jumped back, apparently from fear of the lightning, and I looked to him in confusion. "They're just spells, Raq. Deal with it and keep fighting!"
He snarled slightly at me and spoke in return. "Why don't you know what you're talking about before admonishing me."
He decides to get angry at me for the first time now? Oh well. Have to deal with it and keep going. "Calm down. Not the time for this. Explain later. I'll nix the thunder for now."
"Don't have to. Just try not to hit me with it."
"Fine.” Should be easy enough.... It was then that I quickly read Phoe's flashmail, and the information it brought to light was... troubling. At least, aside from myself and Raquar, everyone who can hurt her is an absolute powerhouse. And the idea of just destroying stuff to make one's self into a target... well, it makes sense. But....
His response was equally short. "Better than anything I would've come up with."
Close beside me, Raquar fired off small orbs of darkness, and I decided to complement them with what magic I could throw at our target. “Rai Rom! Rai Rom! Rai Rom!” The three thunder spells went off, striking hot on the heels of their opposed element, letting Angel know that we were damn well going to fight her every step of the way. However, Raquar jumped back, apparently from fear of the lightning, and I looked to him in confusion. "They're just spells, Raq. Deal with it and keep fighting!"
He snarled slightly at me and spoke in return. "Why don't you know what you're talking about before admonishing me."
He decides to get angry at me for the first time now? Oh well. Have to deal with it and keep going. "Calm down. Not the time for this. Explain later. I'll nix the thunder for now."
"Don't have to. Just try not to hit me with it."
"Fine.” Should be easy enough.... It was then that I quickly read Phoe's flashmail, and the information it brought to light was... troubling. At least, aside from myself and Raquar, everyone who can hurt her is an absolute powerhouse. And the idea of just destroying stuff to make one's self into a target... well, it makes sense. But....
With that flashmail sent, I could fight freely. Hopefully, they'd listen. If not, I'd just have to work twice as hard to make sure they didn't get hurt.Flashmail!
To: Sekai, Senna, Lord Canti
From: Zhao Xun
RE: Don't
Don't put yourselves in danger for our sake. We've endangered you all, now we'll protect you all.
That's what you told me to do, right, Canti? All three of you, stay safe. Please.
~Zhao
End Flashmail!
Zhao's Profile
Wishlist:
Levels
Slayers
Other level 16+ Twin Blade Weapons
Cougar Bandanna
Snow Panther
Level 16+ Twin Blade Armor
Miakita hazu no tasogare ga
Konna ni kirei dato naita
Wishlist:
Levels
Slayers
Other level 16+ Twin Blade Weapons
Cougar Bandanna
Snow Panther
Level 16+ Twin Blade Armor
Miakita hazu no tasogare ga
Konna ni kirei dato naita
Zan's 'conversation' with Raquar could hardly be considered productive, on any continent, but it served a purpose just the same. Though the werewolf had feared that he was steadily losing his faith in those around him because of their judgments, it was harder to give up on them as a whole than he had thought it would be. It was with this in mind that he decided to systematically push the Freedom Fighters away; make them dislike him. Make them mad at him. In the end, if it was necessary, he would go so far as to make sure they hated him. With this accomplished, they would distance themselves from him, stop doing things that made him want to leave and ditch the group he had otherwise put his heart and soul into. It was a notably foolish plan, one Zan didn't know if he'd be able to go through with, but it certainly played a part in his interaction with the Long Arm who (as of late, anyway) had begun to cloud the scent of darkness on his skin. Wryneck's weighted favor in the boy was hard to miss and impossible to ignore once it had made itself known. The fact that the god of Ani paid any special attention to Raquar was one of the few things earning the kid what little respect Zan held for him. Otherwise? He'd just be the player who set a room on fire and almost, potentially, killed his teammates because of his recklessness.
Nighthand's Flashmail pulled Zan out of his mental rut and rekindled his interest in the mansion. It seemed, finally, the group had gotten its shit together and completed the necessary puzzles to proceed. What lay in the locked room? Any number of things ranging from awe-inspiring to fatally dangerous. In a place of wealth and violence, the Lycan would never ignore the potential for both outcomes and all the medians in-between. Rising from his seat at the splintered table, Nul doing the same, the partners exited the lounge and emerged into the center of the hallway system. Room six, if Zan's memory served him as well as he hoped it was, was two right turns down. Yawning a bit, absently scratching at the 'M' burn beneath his right glove, the Lycan spoke a word to no one during the brief expedition through a floor most of them had taken the time to get to know. When Zan hadn't been busy destroying trophy cases or putting out fires, he had walked up down the halls with senses flared, wanting to burn a mental map of his surroundings in case something should take a turn for the worst. Considering how relatively tame the third Hub had proven to be thus far, the possibility that such a turn could occur was almost staggeringly high. Both Nul and him tried to keep their thoughts positive, their general excitement high as door six was opened, but all they got for their efforts was anxiety and negative anticipation.
As they should have.
The sight of Angel paused Zan for only a heartbeat before, like he had always been standing that way, he sifted into a confident stance with the grace of the wolf that paced the metaphorical cave inside of his chest. The speech that followed, reminding the lycanthrope vaguely of something his father might have tried to lay on him (with a lot less cursing), was more or less ignored. The Heavy Blade found his focus needled into the golden chain she held in her hand and the place upward that it led. The comical vision of her yanking it and a bucket of water splashing down out of thin air to douse them all for their naughtiness came to mind and, mid-Angel-sentence, Zan laughed. Everyone else, however, seemed to be very much intent on listening and planning their inward strategies. It was what he should have been doing, of course, and the moment he realized he was laughing, he stopped. Igniting the already recognizable speed available to him even in his human form with an Ap Do, the werewolf sighed at the extra kick to the adrenaline already streamlining through his blood. By the time he had cast it, however, the next little surprise decided it was time to debut. A yank on the chain and Angel's slave/gimp/pet floated down from the ceiling above. Nothing about it was scary, much like the master, but Zan always subscribed to the 'don't judge a book by its cover' theory. Especially when Angel, you know, started to glow like the fucking sun.
Immediately distancing himself from the opposition to gather his thoughts and possible tactics, Zan took each proceeding Flashmail in stride, body working in effortless, circular (and, yet, strategically sporadic) movements about the room. Rayo's invigorating strengthening spells were appreciated and served to give him the first of his ideas. Willing to go along with Rayo's plan, seeing no better one at the moment, he had started his Blood consumption with his mind dwelling on what Phoe had said. The Blademaster was able to do damage...but the bird couldn't? It seemed, by some twist of game mechanics, only those who had righteously pissed her off were able to do any real - initial - damage. Also, if his eyes served him correctly, Ms. Shiny was only pursuing this same set of people. Well, it certainly was one of the most interesting boss situations Zan had found himself in in quite some time. 'Bout time the Elites and their lackeys stopped being predictably boring. After the fourth vial of tangy, coppery blood slid deliciously down his throat, Zan found himself prepared and eager to go after the greedy bitch and her butt monkey. In total, after a use of a Warrior's Blood, Hunter's Blood, Hermit's Blood and Wizard's Blood, Zan's buffs came out to: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, Ap Vorv, Ap Corma, Ap Torma, Ap Vorma and Ap Do. The werewolf's body was bristling with power, defense and skill and he was itching to put it to some use.
Nul had, up until this point, kept silently back, eyes staring dead into the movements of the enemy. Nothing in his body, in his posture spoke of any of the fear or anxieties he had held in the hall. Eyes that had been a steady, light green were now emerald coals, flames licking out harmlessly from the irises themselves. With a single thought, the mental 'go' signal, Nul exploded into a cloud of black tendrils and green mist, a seven-plus foot Shade whipping out of its center and flying like a bullet towards the front of the pet at the same time the dexterous Heavy Blade, stacked with buffs and lycanthropic prowess and wielding a giant, branched Ghostdancer, arrived to deliver an overhead strike to Angel herself. The vertical slice was a sweeping movement in the energy of the starting fight, used as precisely and swiftly as a Blademaster's weapon because of the preternatural strength that burned in Zan's muscles. It would not surprise him if the woman's glowing aura thing ended up being something he didn't want to attack. This noted and filed away, the werewolf still went on to jerk the sword back to the right, only to whip it back in a horizontal drag that sought to tear the flesh of her stomach wide open. He lost no momentum as the long weapon completed its one hundred and eighty degree arc, keeping the circular motion going, reeling it up and over his head and feigning another overhead assault. Though this never paused, the majority of his force and his focus was suddenly on the bottom of the boot that he lashed out to hopefully crack against Angel's chest.
Whether or not the powerful kick found its mark didn't matter to Zan, the fall of the Ghostdancer suddenly ceased and the muscles in his body straining (backed with the Ap Corv and his own unnatural strength) as a sudden upward thrust-jab of the blade attempted to skewer the head of Angel in several points along the jaggedly splayed design. It was at this point, in any other fight, that the werewolf would have slipped around to her back and proceeding with more attacks there and on her flank and turn. However, Rayo's plan called for him to stick to the front and so, a bit reluctantly, he did. Stance turning defensive for a moment, Zan dipped into his connection with the Shade and watched as his knife-like fingers lashed in a frenzy at the pet before him. Well, to anyone else it would have looked like a frenzy. To Zan and any other individual who had the eye to catch it, the strikes were carefully planted, seeking out vitals and vulnerabilities that wouldn't simply damage a victim, but maim and immobilize them. Both of the partners had their reflexes pulled taut, waiting for that sudden attack, that apparated presence of violence where before there was none. Such a thing continued even as Zan's defensive posture shifted back into a thing of offense and his attacks continued, trying for both damage and distraction for those behind.
It had only just begun.
Nighthand's Flashmail pulled Zan out of his mental rut and rekindled his interest in the mansion. It seemed, finally, the group had gotten its shit together and completed the necessary puzzles to proceed. What lay in the locked room? Any number of things ranging from awe-inspiring to fatally dangerous. In a place of wealth and violence, the Lycan would never ignore the potential for both outcomes and all the medians in-between. Rising from his seat at the splintered table, Nul doing the same, the partners exited the lounge and emerged into the center of the hallway system. Room six, if Zan's memory served him as well as he hoped it was, was two right turns down. Yawning a bit, absently scratching at the 'M' burn beneath his right glove, the Lycan spoke a word to no one during the brief expedition through a floor most of them had taken the time to get to know. When Zan hadn't been busy destroying trophy cases or putting out fires, he had walked up down the halls with senses flared, wanting to burn a mental map of his surroundings in case something should take a turn for the worst. Considering how relatively tame the third Hub had proven to be thus far, the possibility that such a turn could occur was almost staggeringly high. Both Nul and him tried to keep their thoughts positive, their general excitement high as door six was opened, but all they got for their efforts was anxiety and negative anticipation.
As they should have.
The sight of Angel paused Zan for only a heartbeat before, like he had always been standing that way, he sifted into a confident stance with the grace of the wolf that paced the metaphorical cave inside of his chest. The speech that followed, reminding the lycanthrope vaguely of something his father might have tried to lay on him (with a lot less cursing), was more or less ignored. The Heavy Blade found his focus needled into the golden chain she held in her hand and the place upward that it led. The comical vision of her yanking it and a bucket of water splashing down out of thin air to douse them all for their naughtiness came to mind and, mid-Angel-sentence, Zan laughed. Everyone else, however, seemed to be very much intent on listening and planning their inward strategies. It was what he should have been doing, of course, and the moment he realized he was laughing, he stopped. Igniting the already recognizable speed available to him even in his human form with an Ap Do, the werewolf sighed at the extra kick to the adrenaline already streamlining through his blood. By the time he had cast it, however, the next little surprise decided it was time to debut. A yank on the chain and Angel's slave/gimp/pet floated down from the ceiling above. Nothing about it was scary, much like the master, but Zan always subscribed to the 'don't judge a book by its cover' theory. Especially when Angel, you know, started to glow like the fucking sun.
Immediately distancing himself from the opposition to gather his thoughts and possible tactics, Zan took each proceeding Flashmail in stride, body working in effortless, circular (and, yet, strategically sporadic) movements about the room. Rayo's invigorating strengthening spells were appreciated and served to give him the first of his ideas. Willing to go along with Rayo's plan, seeing no better one at the moment, he had started his Blood consumption with his mind dwelling on what Phoe had said. The Blademaster was able to do damage...but the bird couldn't? It seemed, by some twist of game mechanics, only those who had righteously pissed her off were able to do any real - initial - damage. Also, if his eyes served him correctly, Ms. Shiny was only pursuing this same set of people. Well, it certainly was one of the most interesting boss situations Zan had found himself in in quite some time. 'Bout time the Elites and their lackeys stopped being predictably boring. After the fourth vial of tangy, coppery blood slid deliciously down his throat, Zan found himself prepared and eager to go after the greedy bitch and her butt monkey. In total, after a use of a Warrior's Blood, Hunter's Blood, Hermit's Blood and Wizard's Blood, Zan's buffs came out to: Ap Corv, Ap Torv, Ap Vorv, Ap Corma, Ap Torma, Ap Vorma and Ap Do. The werewolf's body was bristling with power, defense and skill and he was itching to put it to some use.
Nul had, up until this point, kept silently back, eyes staring dead into the movements of the enemy. Nothing in his body, in his posture spoke of any of the fear or anxieties he had held in the hall. Eyes that had been a steady, light green were now emerald coals, flames licking out harmlessly from the irises themselves. With a single thought, the mental 'go' signal, Nul exploded into a cloud of black tendrils and green mist, a seven-plus foot Shade whipping out of its center and flying like a bullet towards the front of the pet at the same time the dexterous Heavy Blade, stacked with buffs and lycanthropic prowess and wielding a giant, branched Ghostdancer, arrived to deliver an overhead strike to Angel herself. The vertical slice was a sweeping movement in the energy of the starting fight, used as precisely and swiftly as a Blademaster's weapon because of the preternatural strength that burned in Zan's muscles. It would not surprise him if the woman's glowing aura thing ended up being something he didn't want to attack. This noted and filed away, the werewolf still went on to jerk the sword back to the right, only to whip it back in a horizontal drag that sought to tear the flesh of her stomach wide open. He lost no momentum as the long weapon completed its one hundred and eighty degree arc, keeping the circular motion going, reeling it up and over his head and feigning another overhead assault. Though this never paused, the majority of his force and his focus was suddenly on the bottom of the boot that he lashed out to hopefully crack against Angel's chest.
Whether or not the powerful kick found its mark didn't matter to Zan, the fall of the Ghostdancer suddenly ceased and the muscles in his body straining (backed with the Ap Corv and his own unnatural strength) as a sudden upward thrust-jab of the blade attempted to skewer the head of Angel in several points along the jaggedly splayed design. It was at this point, in any other fight, that the werewolf would have slipped around to her back and proceeding with more attacks there and on her flank and turn. However, Rayo's plan called for him to stick to the front and so, a bit reluctantly, he did. Stance turning defensive for a moment, Zan dipped into his connection with the Shade and watched as his knife-like fingers lashed in a frenzy at the pet before him. Well, to anyone else it would have looked like a frenzy. To Zan and any other individual who had the eye to catch it, the strikes were carefully planted, seeking out vitals and vulnerabilities that wouldn't simply damage a victim, but maim and immobilize them. Both of the partners had their reflexes pulled taut, waiting for that sudden attack, that apparated presence of violence where before there was none. Such a thing continued even as Zan's defensive posture shifted back into a thing of offense and his attacks continued, trying for both damage and distraction for those behind.
It had only just begun.
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).
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).
Eavesdropping; the most entertaining form of listening, but also the most demoralizing. Many people look down upon this type of listening, but is it a person’s fault their auditory sense just so happens to conclude the bits of conversations? It is not like a person can tune anyone out at any given moment. It is a random aspect used when deep in thought, but sometimes even loud voices can break through such mental blockades. Such was the case with the Heavy Blade called Hac. He was trying to understand how and why the hacker thing named Marionette would reveal his own minion to the Heavy Blade in the form which seemed to demean the actions of the fellow Freedom Fighter; The contemplation aspect of the process of thought did not add up to a definitive answer. Hac could just not make sense out of anything which was happening around him. “If there was not so much noise..” He whispered as his hands rose to his head as his palms began to run his temples. Even though this action did nothing, it was still the character’s basic instinct and hope it would stop the oncoming headache that would occur if the noise persisted. As his eyes wandered around the room, they found two players conversing quite loudly about something or another. The two were Zan and Raquar.
Zan once again was using his demeaning tone which put himself on a pedestal above everyone else in the entire party. He could not see the idiocy in his own suppressed playfulness. The whole conversation just seemed to erupt from there of how Zan was so elite and everything he did was okay while what the others did was stupid and could have killed everyone. Looking in perspective of the entire commotion, Zan’s actions could kill the entire group. After all, the Marionette Angel did say not to destroy her mansion, and what did the Heavy Blade go and do? That is right, he did just that: desecrated it. His own cynical nature could cost the whole group their lives at the hands of the guardian of the hub, but then again the moronic Heavy Blade had a point: Raquar and Zhao could have burned everyone alive, and the smell of burning flesh was not the most pleasant of smells for a character to get a whiff of. As the point and counterpoint type of talking finally ceased, Hacorie sighed while looking on at his fellow Heavy Blade. Why...If you seriously are the one who has betrayed us and sold your soul to Marionette...Why would you try so hard to protect the ones who are close to you? This thought began to echo within him as his eyes began to shut. His mind once again was able to wander back into its own depths to try and make sense of the whole Zan scenario, but the brief interlude into his subconscious was soon ceased by the ring of a Flashmail. Once again, I am not even permitted to finish my own thoughts before I am interrupted...what could it be this time?
“Gah, I just came back from that stupid room...” Hacorie said to himself as he pressed up from the wall and began to walk back toward where the locked door stood. On his way to the room which was only a hop, skip, and jump away...Hacorie finally had the time to think about the current situation. He first started off with the most obvious plot which had been bothering him for quite sometime; well, at least since Marionette had sent him the Flashmail about a traitor. Hac’s finger automatically pointed to Zan due to his recent outbursts and mood swings. It could easily be noted these were due to a pact with a certain puppet master who had been more or less leading the player’s into its own hands. Thus, Zan may even turn on the party in the end if this message concluded the truth within its texty bounds. However, one flaw seemed to exist within this most basic of assumptions: Zan, as written earlier, had a sense of compassion for the entire group. Even though his words seemed to be those of a harsh nature, they showed he really cared about the Freedom Fighters. Was it possible for this sort of concern to be linked to a traitor? That answer was simple: yes. But it could not be linked to one who would completely turn on the friends whom he had tried to protect. Thus, Hacorie was left with a choice that he alone had to make for himself:
Should I trust in his defensive speeches toward the group? Or should I keep on guard incase he truly turns on us?
Each one had its own flaws. With the first, Hacorie would relinquish all doubts about the Heavy Blade warrior and conclude he was doing everything for the better. On the other hand, the second would continue to make his anger and hatred rise until the point where Hac exploded on Zan the werewolf. Even though Hac’s recent emotions had been taking effect through the form of hatred, he seemed to be leaning more toward the first option rather than the second. Maybe it was because he was afraid? No, that could not possibly be it; the correct reason was because Hacorie did not want to lose an ally. Zan may have been a complete bitch to a few characters in the party, but he was still a Freedom Fighter; he was still part of the team. Maybe...I should... With the loss of actual complete thoughts, Hacorie found himself in a conundrum. He did not want to choose one choice or the other; he could not. Too many doubts began to set in. Questions of his own deciphering of the situation quickly arose out of his cluttered mind: What if Zan really does betray us. If I accept his is an ally, I will not be ready. However, if I conclude he is an enemy...and he is an ally...It will be tough for me to really conceive the possible truth of his statements. I have to decide now, before my mind is swayed anymore by his actions.
What to do...What to do...
Before he could continue on with all his thoughts and hesitant counter thoughts, Hac was once again interrupted by the voice of the lady from the beginning: The Marionette Angel. Glancing at where the character was, he saw he had reached the entrance to the once locked room number six. Tilting his head to the side, he looked on at what was speaking. Blah blah blah...those who ruined my house blah blah...get attacked blah blah. Those were the basics of her long winded speech, and that is all Hacorie paid attention to. His eyes seemed to stay focused on the Werewolf. His mentality trying to decide whether Zan was friend or foe. Finally reaching his decision, Hacorie closed his eyes and took a deep breath in while shaking his head from left to right. He now knew the choice he had to choose. Whether it would be the correct one or the incorrect one would play out just as his choice on the Marionette Devil did: unknown until the future whether the choice was the best of the two given.
Receiving two flashmails, one from Phoenix and the other from Rayo, Hacorie began to assess the current situation. Using the knowledge Phoenix had provided and mixing it with a bit of Rayo’s, Hacorie more or less found out the concoction which had been made in the form of the Marionette Angel’s Pet’s attacks. It was focusing on the five characters who had soiled her prize worthy house: Rayo, Zan, Zhao, Raquar, and Phoenix. By Phoenix’s assumption, only those five could actually do damage since her pet’s could did null. Hm...what odd tolerances...individual people based tolerances. First time I have ever faced something like this... Hacorie thought as the Sharktooth began to materialize upon his back. Watching the five desiccators begin to move in a type of pattern, Hacorie shifted his downed hand the hilt of the earthy blade. A smile crossed his face watching the beginning of the battle unfold. It would be quite fun for the group to act as they did against the Devil...together. Quickly typing up two separate Flashmails followed by a strengthening spell, Hacorie was off to help hold the monsters back.
Flashmail
To: Freedom Fighters
From: Hacorie
I will be in the front helping our neighborhood Zan with main defenses and attacks. Let the onslaught begin...
End Flashmail
Flashmail
To: Zan
From: Hacorie
This may not be the time, but Marionette has been leading me to believe you are a traitor in our own ranks. He has fueled my anger to an extent I thought it could not go. It has surpassed that of normal. Though, I have come to a conclusion on the whole matter. For some reason, I believe what the text says in that there is a traitor. My anger pointed you as the main culprit along with some other minor happenings surrounding you.
However, I have come to believe that even if you are a traitor, even if you do betray us...You are still one of us...A Freedom Fighter. Thus, I have decided instead of trying to fight you with the anger swelling within me...I will fight along side you. You may be a jerk at times(and I may be childish), but as stated before: You are one of us.
This may sound sappy and unlike me, but FUCK IT. My mind has been filled with too many thoughts to actually comprise a Flashmail of details and all. Plus this fight is starting and this is long enough. Haha. You may not want/need my help...but I am coming to make see if I can help out any. So do not kill it too quickly...
End Flashmail
“Ap Corv!”
Hastily, Hacorie rushed in to help the Heavy Blade named Zan. As he neared, the player lifted his sword from behind his head and brought it down with a vertical slash. Watching the blade scratch and hit the ground, Hacorie looked up to see no damage at all had been done. Remembering back to Phoenix’s Flashmail, Hacorie began to wonder if he should become more of a tank rather than an attacker. After the very brief pause, the character attempted another attack...this one in the form of a skill.
“Gohryu...” Hac could only hope any of the movements with the base of earth element would do damage. If not...he would most likely be screwed if the battle continued this way.
Zan once again was using his demeaning tone which put himself on a pedestal above everyone else in the entire party. He could not see the idiocy in his own suppressed playfulness. The whole conversation just seemed to erupt from there of how Zan was so elite and everything he did was okay while what the others did was stupid and could have killed everyone. Looking in perspective of the entire commotion, Zan’s actions could kill the entire group. After all, the Marionette Angel did say not to destroy her mansion, and what did the Heavy Blade go and do? That is right, he did just that: desecrated it. His own cynical nature could cost the whole group their lives at the hands of the guardian of the hub, but then again the moronic Heavy Blade had a point: Raquar and Zhao could have burned everyone alive, and the smell of burning flesh was not the most pleasant of smells for a character to get a whiff of. As the point and counterpoint type of talking finally ceased, Hacorie sighed while looking on at his fellow Heavy Blade. Why...If you seriously are the one who has betrayed us and sold your soul to Marionette...Why would you try so hard to protect the ones who are close to you? This thought began to echo within him as his eyes began to shut. His mind once again was able to wander back into its own depths to try and make sense of the whole Zan scenario, but the brief interlude into his subconscious was soon ceased by the ring of a Flashmail. Once again, I am not even permitted to finish my own thoughts before I am interrupted...what could it be this time?
“Gah, I just came back from that stupid room...” Hacorie said to himself as he pressed up from the wall and began to walk back toward where the locked door stood. On his way to the room which was only a hop, skip, and jump away...Hacorie finally had the time to think about the current situation. He first started off with the most obvious plot which had been bothering him for quite sometime; well, at least since Marionette had sent him the Flashmail about a traitor. Hac’s finger automatically pointed to Zan due to his recent outbursts and mood swings. It could easily be noted these were due to a pact with a certain puppet master who had been more or less leading the player’s into its own hands. Thus, Zan may even turn on the party in the end if this message concluded the truth within its texty bounds. However, one flaw seemed to exist within this most basic of assumptions: Zan, as written earlier, had a sense of compassion for the entire group. Even though his words seemed to be those of a harsh nature, they showed he really cared about the Freedom Fighters. Was it possible for this sort of concern to be linked to a traitor? That answer was simple: yes. But it could not be linked to one who would completely turn on the friends whom he had tried to protect. Thus, Hacorie was left with a choice that he alone had to make for himself:
Should I trust in his defensive speeches toward the group? Or should I keep on guard incase he truly turns on us?
Each one had its own flaws. With the first, Hacorie would relinquish all doubts about the Heavy Blade warrior and conclude he was doing everything for the better. On the other hand, the second would continue to make his anger and hatred rise until the point where Hac exploded on Zan the werewolf. Even though Hac’s recent emotions had been taking effect through the form of hatred, he seemed to be leaning more toward the first option rather than the second. Maybe it was because he was afraid? No, that could not possibly be it; the correct reason was because Hacorie did not want to lose an ally. Zan may have been a complete bitch to a few characters in the party, but he was still a Freedom Fighter; he was still part of the team. Maybe...I should... With the loss of actual complete thoughts, Hacorie found himself in a conundrum. He did not want to choose one choice or the other; he could not. Too many doubts began to set in. Questions of his own deciphering of the situation quickly arose out of his cluttered mind: What if Zan really does betray us. If I accept his is an ally, I will not be ready. However, if I conclude he is an enemy...and he is an ally...It will be tough for me to really conceive the possible truth of his statements. I have to decide now, before my mind is swayed anymore by his actions.
What to do...What to do...
Before he could continue on with all his thoughts and hesitant counter thoughts, Hac was once again interrupted by the voice of the lady from the beginning: The Marionette Angel. Glancing at where the character was, he saw he had reached the entrance to the once locked room number six. Tilting his head to the side, he looked on at what was speaking. Blah blah blah...those who ruined my house blah blah...get attacked blah blah. Those were the basics of her long winded speech, and that is all Hacorie paid attention to. His eyes seemed to stay focused on the Werewolf. His mentality trying to decide whether Zan was friend or foe. Finally reaching his decision, Hacorie closed his eyes and took a deep breath in while shaking his head from left to right. He now knew the choice he had to choose. Whether it would be the correct one or the incorrect one would play out just as his choice on the Marionette Devil did: unknown until the future whether the choice was the best of the two given.
Receiving two flashmails, one from Phoenix and the other from Rayo, Hacorie began to assess the current situation. Using the knowledge Phoenix had provided and mixing it with a bit of Rayo’s, Hacorie more or less found out the concoction which had been made in the form of the Marionette Angel’s Pet’s attacks. It was focusing on the five characters who had soiled her prize worthy house: Rayo, Zan, Zhao, Raquar, and Phoenix. By Phoenix’s assumption, only those five could actually do damage since her pet’s could did null. Hm...what odd tolerances...individual people based tolerances. First time I have ever faced something like this... Hacorie thought as the Sharktooth began to materialize upon his back. Watching the five desiccators begin to move in a type of pattern, Hacorie shifted his downed hand the hilt of the earthy blade. A smile crossed his face watching the beginning of the battle unfold. It would be quite fun for the group to act as they did against the Devil...together. Quickly typing up two separate Flashmails followed by a strengthening spell, Hacorie was off to help hold the monsters back.
Flashmail
To: Freedom Fighters
From: Hacorie
I will be in the front helping our neighborhood Zan with main defenses and attacks. Let the onslaught begin...
End Flashmail
Flashmail
To: Zan
From: Hacorie
This may not be the time, but Marionette has been leading me to believe you are a traitor in our own ranks. He has fueled my anger to an extent I thought it could not go. It has surpassed that of normal. Though, I have come to a conclusion on the whole matter. For some reason, I believe what the text says in that there is a traitor. My anger pointed you as the main culprit along with some other minor happenings surrounding you.
However, I have come to believe that even if you are a traitor, even if you do betray us...You are still one of us...A Freedom Fighter. Thus, I have decided instead of trying to fight you with the anger swelling within me...I will fight along side you. You may be a jerk at times(and I may be childish), but as stated before: You are one of us.
This may sound sappy and unlike me, but FUCK IT. My mind has been filled with too many thoughts to actually comprise a Flashmail of details and all. Plus this fight is starting and this is long enough. Haha. You may not want/need my help...but I am coming to make see if I can help out any. So do not kill it too quickly...
End Flashmail
“Ap Corv!”
Hastily, Hacorie rushed in to help the Heavy Blade named Zan. As he neared, the player lifted his sword from behind his head and brought it down with a vertical slash. Watching the blade scratch and hit the ground, Hacorie looked up to see no damage at all had been done. Remembering back to Phoenix’s Flashmail, Hacorie began to wonder if he should become more of a tank rather than an attacker. After the very brief pause, the character attempted another attack...this one in the form of a skill.
“Gohryu...” Hac could only hope any of the movements with the base of earth element would do damage. If not...he would most likely be screwed if the battle continued this way.
Hacorie
Level 36 Heavy Blade
Gold: 21237
Equips
Oceanic Aura/Sharktooth-Ice Helm-Winter Coat-
Shiva's Rings-Bondage Pants
---Water Magic, BL Yokohama
Wishlist:
Level Meh Up
Weapons: Sakabatou/Rock n Roll/Peace Blade
Body: Knight's Armor
Other: Earthlore/Feng Shui
--------Water/Earth Scrolls
Level 36 Heavy Blade
Gold: 21237
Equips
Oceanic Aura/Sharktooth-Ice Helm-Winter Coat-
Shiva's Rings-Bondage Pants
---Water Magic, BL Yokohama
Wishlist:
Level Meh Up
Weapons: Sakabatou/Rock n Roll/Peace Blade
Body: Knight's Armor
Other: Earthlore/Feng Shui
--------Water/Earth Scrolls
With a healthy milk now running through her system and all the energy that comes with it, Kit comes to realize just how dull sitting around the hideout really is. The scratching post- er... whatever they call it now... couch right, has sharpened her claws enough for today and climbing to the highest point in any given room looses its thrill when there's no one to witness the event. Mayhap, she thinks, it is time join them... the problem is where? Without the benefit of flashmails, she normally relies on Lighteria for information... and while she's sure he probably mentioned where they were going, it was an AWESOME dream she was having at the time... How could anyone wake from that?! Still, despite the obvious appropriate priority placement, she's still stuck without answers. ...How to get to where they are?
"Where'd everyone go?" Raine suddenly finds a small kitten asking her.
"To the final hub." She replies succinctly.
"Already? Which field is it?" Kit's whiskers twitch, a bit surprised how late she is.
"Muted Illusionary Code. You should probably hurry if you want to catch up, I don't know what they're getting into."
"I'll do that then." She says
"Mew mew meow meow mew mew meow mew... (What a cat needs to do to get a belly rub around here...)"
As Kit busies herself zoning in and finding the place, Lighteria finds himself unable to pull away from the work bench... even though he's pretty sure part of his hair is still on fire. Sure the last brew accidentally blew up in his face, but there's something about the experimenting that makes up for the burning smell that sill sort of lingers in his nose. At least that's his mindset when Nighthand's brief flashmail blinks past his eyes.
Room six is open. ...No actual message...
He glances to the door opposite the room, hearing footsteps in the hallway from the team heading towards what one could assume is the final destination of the mansion... or at least this floor. He bites his lip for a moment, a handful of Flint Root clutched in his hand, hesitant to leave but also to join them. Sure he could rush over and help check out the room, but the team had gone through five rooms already with... semi-minimal destruction and danger. Lighteria certainly couldn't have helped out in any of them, most barely needed more than one person to handle... With all that, why rush to what could be just another exploration room?
"They'll be fine." He mumbles to himself, gripping a few research notes in his left hand, reading over what he thinks is an explanation of "Leech Vine". Frustratingly, Angel hadn't left much to go on in the actual lab. Perhaps she'd committed everything to memory... understandable; she IS after all, ultimately an NPC, memory storage for this stuff is child’s-play. For the human brain though, memorizing everything is a bit of a different story. It was a stroke of luck that Lighteria found a pad and pencil in the same drawer as the refresh berries. As he writes down his take on the texture and smell of the root, it doesn't take long to completely forget about room six.
"...Dry, not odorless... but not very aromatic either... How do I describe this?" His mumbles to himself, placing the root back into a nearby sack he'd found it in. With a grunt, Lighteria crosses his arms, staring at half-filled vial.
This concoction was bubbling when I got in here. It's obviously unfinished though. There are little notes that cut off and it hasn't got that... 'look' it. All the finished potions have a nice, even blended look to it. Even the one I screwed up on melded into one color when I mixed it. What on earth could she have been trying to make?!
Without the benefit of notes and unable to directly alter the concoction without screwing it up, the twinblade falls back on smell to figure out what's in the potion.
Bleh. The root's not in it, it doesn't even come close to how the thing smells... It's got a... sugary smell to it. I figured the berry juice would be it, but it's just got too much of a citrusy aroma. I'm pretty sure if there's any of that stuff in it, I could tell... Then what could she have stuffed in this stupid vial!? I know I'm close to figur-
INCOMING FLASHMAIL
Eh? It's from Rayo...
A quick skim-through of the mail sends Lighteria out of his chair, heading for the door. Clearly, there's a fight going down right now... should have figured that the last room would be a fight. With a deep breath, he sighs as he turns the door knob, only to freeze as the door clicks open. His eyes widen suddenly and his hand lifts from the door knob, hurriedly wiping the last bit of ash from his nose. He looks to the side quizzically and takes yet another deep breath, this time mostly through his nose.
...That smells like sugar.
He blinks, spying an open jar thick honey. There's a single beat before he gasps, shuts the door and nearly dives at the ingredients table. He bites his lip, looking over a few of the jars... "Sweet Honey" "Pure Nectar" A few of them are only half full... There's a spoon out of place.... A jar left open in a rush...
"Oh my god. She left these open when she went to greet us." He remarks out loud, gathering up the half-full jars and heading back to the work bench.
Pheonix and Hac's flashmails remain unopened as he works. In another twist though, a tabby kitten manages to push open the front doors of the mansion just in time to see someone exit into the hallway.
"Where'd everyone go?" Raine suddenly finds a small kitten asking her.
"To the final hub." She replies succinctly.
"Already? Which field is it?" Kit's whiskers twitch, a bit surprised how late she is.
"Muted Illusionary Code. You should probably hurry if you want to catch up, I don't know what they're getting into."
"I'll do that then." She says
"Mew mew meow meow mew mew meow mew... (What a cat needs to do to get a belly rub around here...)"
As Kit busies herself zoning in and finding the place, Lighteria finds himself unable to pull away from the work bench... even though he's pretty sure part of his hair is still on fire. Sure the last brew accidentally blew up in his face, but there's something about the experimenting that makes up for the burning smell that sill sort of lingers in his nose. At least that's his mindset when Nighthand's brief flashmail blinks past his eyes.
Room six is open. ...No actual message...
He glances to the door opposite the room, hearing footsteps in the hallway from the team heading towards what one could assume is the final destination of the mansion... or at least this floor. He bites his lip for a moment, a handful of Flint Root clutched in his hand, hesitant to leave but also to join them. Sure he could rush over and help check out the room, but the team had gone through five rooms already with... semi-minimal destruction and danger. Lighteria certainly couldn't have helped out in any of them, most barely needed more than one person to handle... With all that, why rush to what could be just another exploration room?
"They'll be fine." He mumbles to himself, gripping a few research notes in his left hand, reading over what he thinks is an explanation of "Leech Vine". Frustratingly, Angel hadn't left much to go on in the actual lab. Perhaps she'd committed everything to memory... understandable; she IS after all, ultimately an NPC, memory storage for this stuff is child’s-play. For the human brain though, memorizing everything is a bit of a different story. It was a stroke of luck that Lighteria found a pad and pencil in the same drawer as the refresh berries. As he writes down his take on the texture and smell of the root, it doesn't take long to completely forget about room six.
"...Dry, not odorless... but not very aromatic either... How do I describe this?" His mumbles to himself, placing the root back into a nearby sack he'd found it in. With a grunt, Lighteria crosses his arms, staring at half-filled vial.
This concoction was bubbling when I got in here. It's obviously unfinished though. There are little notes that cut off and it hasn't got that... 'look' it. All the finished potions have a nice, even blended look to it. Even the one I screwed up on melded into one color when I mixed it. What on earth could she have been trying to make?!
Without the benefit of notes and unable to directly alter the concoction without screwing it up, the twinblade falls back on smell to figure out what's in the potion.
Bleh. The root's not in it, it doesn't even come close to how the thing smells... It's got a... sugary smell to it. I figured the berry juice would be it, but it's just got too much of a citrusy aroma. I'm pretty sure if there's any of that stuff in it, I could tell... Then what could she have stuffed in this stupid vial!? I know I'm close to figur-
INCOMING FLASHMAIL
Eh? It's from Rayo...
A quick skim-through of the mail sends Lighteria out of his chair, heading for the door. Clearly, there's a fight going down right now... should have figured that the last room would be a fight. With a deep breath, he sighs as he turns the door knob, only to freeze as the door clicks open. His eyes widen suddenly and his hand lifts from the door knob, hurriedly wiping the last bit of ash from his nose. He looks to the side quizzically and takes yet another deep breath, this time mostly through his nose.
...That smells like sugar.
He blinks, spying an open jar thick honey. There's a single beat before he gasps, shuts the door and nearly dives at the ingredients table. He bites his lip, looking over a few of the jars... "Sweet Honey" "Pure Nectar" A few of them are only half full... There's a spoon out of place.... A jar left open in a rush...
"Oh my god. She left these open when she went to greet us." He remarks out loud, gathering up the half-full jars and heading back to the work bench.
Pheonix and Hac's flashmails remain unopened as he works. In another twist though, a tabby kitten manages to push open the front doors of the mansion just in time to see someone exit into the hallway.
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"
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"
- Nighthand
- Master of Games
- Posts: 1265
- Joined: Mon Mar 31, 2003 9:23 pm
- Class: Bladesmage
- Location: ...Tracking...please wait...
she DOES like gold...
Nighthand prepared himself to attack, mentally calling on his State Shift ability to enhance his strength, as in the small room, it didn’t seem like speed would be all that necessary. At least, not with the number of attacks in place: where ever Angel or her pet decided to go, there would probably be someone there to attack her. His assault was forestalled for a moment, however, as Phoenix’s discover was broadcast. No sense in wasting powerful attacks right now when they would deal no damage…
Moments after the pet was standing on its own, it was no longer standing. Instead, it floated slightly above the ground, just enough to leave its feet dangling. Seconds after Nights noticed this, the plan Rayo had no doubt spread around went into action. The archer’s leap and toss of scrolls, as well physical attacks from the bow, seemed to have no problem striking home.
Simultaneously, the glyphs for the Sleep spell, summoned into being from the scrolls, took shape over Angel and her pet. Something odd displayed at that moment. The glyph over the pet settled down with no problem, the pet itself sinking to the floor and no longer floating. The spell over Angel herself, on the other hand, sputtered. The glyph was flickering into static and distorted proportions, before it winked out entirely.
Rayo’s attacks, on the other hand, all struck with no issues. One arrow embedded itself into the torso of the pet, while two struck Angel. Those two seemed to be drawn into her golden aura and disappear.
Phoenix’s attacks came at the same instant. A Wind Blade for each, to be fair; the attack striking the pet just fine while it was absorbed into the golden aura surrounding Angel. The bird’s breath attack of course did nothing, while Phoe’s own fire spell was cast with no interruptions.
Another odd effect was displayed next. Suzaku, casting a series of Ap Corvs on people, found their effectiveness severely altered. The first she cast was but a ghost of the normal spell, its effect being nearly none. Each successive cast after that seemed to have slightly greater power behind it, but by the fifth casting, it was still only half-strength. It seemed whatever was limited the ‘outsider participation’ worked on more than just attacks: buffs and no doubt healing as well would be hampered.
Raquar, testing out his new abilities, tossed out a pair of his shadow balls. While the damage was small, it was still a contribution. Again, the ball of shadows that struck Angel was enveloped in gold and disappeared, while the one for the pet was fine. At nearly the same time, Zhao’s Rai spells erupted in the area both creatures were in. They started at full force, but as they progressed, they seemed to get weaker. It was as if the golden aura was simply removing each bit of damage that would be taken by the spell.
Zan and Nulus were in the fray now, tossing on physical attack after attack. Each of his blows landed heavily on Angel, moving her physically, driving her a step back or to the side… but she seemed unphased by the damage. Nulus, quick to notice that his own attacks were doing very little damage, went on unperturbed. Each successive blow landed with a little more force, but still no more than half-force at best.
Hacorie, apparently uncaring about Phoenix’s Flashmail, dove in to attack anyways. His single Gohryu seemed exceptionally weak, but of course it was only his second attack.
Now it was time for Angel to act. She was largely ignoring the attacks on her person, save for moving when the force applied to her made it inconvenient to stay standing still. Her eyes narrowed, however, when she saw the status effect in place on her pet. Hadn’t she dealt with those already?
”Wake… UP!” She shouted at her creature, yanking harshly on the chain. The creature was torn from its feet and came flying towards her. A sidestep and another yank on the chain and she was now spinning in a circle. The chain, and the very massive object at the end of it, were now like a large spoke on an even larger wheel, rotating around Angel.
The motion served two purposes. First, the chain, as well as the body at the end of it, caught up the people who had so carefully arranged themselves around her. Effectively, it funneled them all into one corner of the room where they slipped off the chain and piled up. Rayo and Zhao, Raquar and Zan, Nulus, Phoenix, and Hacorie were all piled into the corner furthest from the door. Suzaku escaped only by dint of being airborne the whole time. Second, it displayed another aspect of the fight. No one who had not yet acted against angel was touched. The chain, and the monster, passed through them as though they weren’t there. However, as Hacorie’s presence showed, even the slightest act made them vulnerable to an attack.
Yanking yet again on the chain, Angel stopped her motion and drew the flying body towards her. Winding back her arm, she delivered a powerful punch to the creature that sent it flying directly back into the corner where all of her foes now lay. A flash of gold and her aura was gone for a second, the gold temporarily enveloping the pet. The punch seemed to awaken the beast, dispelling the status effect; as soon as it was gone, the gold returned to Angel. Halfway to the corner, the pet reoriented itself so it was flying headfirst at the small group. It reached back and plucked a pair of feathers from its wings and gripped them like twinblades. Blades, in fact, they were. When it had almost reached the end of its chain, and almost reached the group, it dug the blades into the floor and flipped. Legs slammed in a heavy kick into the top of the piled players, and it changed its direction to up. Now above the piled people, it tossed the featherknives downwards. They shattered in mid-air, raining hundreds of needles down on the players below. They didn’t seem to be slowed by anything, tearing through flesh and bone and armor as though untouched, leaving only trails of liquid pain, making sure those at the bottom of the pile were harmed just as much as the rest.
If the pet could look cocky, it did so now. At least, for a second, before Angel scowled and yanked it back. Startled, it flew until it was hovering once more at the side of Angel. So… that was how she would attack. This humanoid figure was, apparently, little more than a sentient chain-weapon with weapons of its own.
---------------------ooc:
Suzaku and Nulus are at half-strength: whatever they do to affect themselves, the bosses, or the targeted party is at half power. However, now if they try to leave, it will be a fight against a pushing pressure. Still possible, but hard. Hacorie would feel slight resistance, and can affect the targeted group slightly, but not much.
Here’s how it works: People not targeted can’t affect people who are, and people who are can’t affect those who aren’t. the more the untargeted do that would affect the targeted or the boss, the more it does, but the more likely they are to be targets themselves. As a result, the more they effect the targeted group, the harder it is to leave, and the less they can affect those who are untargeted. Kind of confusing, to let me know if you have questions.
There’s no HP counter to this battle visible anywhere, though damage numbers will still appear over the pet. Damage doesn’t appear when attacking Angel herself.
Most of you are doing rather well with the twice a week format, so well done. Because of how fast the first floor was done and how quickly the boss fight’s first phase is likely to end… I’d say we’re already 20-30% done with the quest. Good job so far.
Moments after the pet was standing on its own, it was no longer standing. Instead, it floated slightly above the ground, just enough to leave its feet dangling. Seconds after Nights noticed this, the plan Rayo had no doubt spread around went into action. The archer’s leap and toss of scrolls, as well physical attacks from the bow, seemed to have no problem striking home.
Simultaneously, the glyphs for the Sleep spell, summoned into being from the scrolls, took shape over Angel and her pet. Something odd displayed at that moment. The glyph over the pet settled down with no problem, the pet itself sinking to the floor and no longer floating. The spell over Angel herself, on the other hand, sputtered. The glyph was flickering into static and distorted proportions, before it winked out entirely.
Rayo’s attacks, on the other hand, all struck with no issues. One arrow embedded itself into the torso of the pet, while two struck Angel. Those two seemed to be drawn into her golden aura and disappear.
Phoenix’s attacks came at the same instant. A Wind Blade for each, to be fair; the attack striking the pet just fine while it was absorbed into the golden aura surrounding Angel. The bird’s breath attack of course did nothing, while Phoe’s own fire spell was cast with no interruptions.
Another odd effect was displayed next. Suzaku, casting a series of Ap Corvs on people, found their effectiveness severely altered. The first she cast was but a ghost of the normal spell, its effect being nearly none. Each successive cast after that seemed to have slightly greater power behind it, but by the fifth casting, it was still only half-strength. It seemed whatever was limited the ‘outsider participation’ worked on more than just attacks: buffs and no doubt healing as well would be hampered.
Raquar, testing out his new abilities, tossed out a pair of his shadow balls. While the damage was small, it was still a contribution. Again, the ball of shadows that struck Angel was enveloped in gold and disappeared, while the one for the pet was fine. At nearly the same time, Zhao’s Rai spells erupted in the area both creatures were in. They started at full force, but as they progressed, they seemed to get weaker. It was as if the golden aura was simply removing each bit of damage that would be taken by the spell.
Zan and Nulus were in the fray now, tossing on physical attack after attack. Each of his blows landed heavily on Angel, moving her physically, driving her a step back or to the side… but she seemed unphased by the damage. Nulus, quick to notice that his own attacks were doing very little damage, went on unperturbed. Each successive blow landed with a little more force, but still no more than half-force at best.
Hacorie, apparently uncaring about Phoenix’s Flashmail, dove in to attack anyways. His single Gohryu seemed exceptionally weak, but of course it was only his second attack.
Now it was time for Angel to act. She was largely ignoring the attacks on her person, save for moving when the force applied to her made it inconvenient to stay standing still. Her eyes narrowed, however, when she saw the status effect in place on her pet. Hadn’t she dealt with those already?
”Wake… UP!” She shouted at her creature, yanking harshly on the chain. The creature was torn from its feet and came flying towards her. A sidestep and another yank on the chain and she was now spinning in a circle. The chain, and the very massive object at the end of it, were now like a large spoke on an even larger wheel, rotating around Angel.
The motion served two purposes. First, the chain, as well as the body at the end of it, caught up the people who had so carefully arranged themselves around her. Effectively, it funneled them all into one corner of the room where they slipped off the chain and piled up. Rayo and Zhao, Raquar and Zan, Nulus, Phoenix, and Hacorie were all piled into the corner furthest from the door. Suzaku escaped only by dint of being airborne the whole time. Second, it displayed another aspect of the fight. No one who had not yet acted against angel was touched. The chain, and the monster, passed through them as though they weren’t there. However, as Hacorie’s presence showed, even the slightest act made them vulnerable to an attack.
Yanking yet again on the chain, Angel stopped her motion and drew the flying body towards her. Winding back her arm, she delivered a powerful punch to the creature that sent it flying directly back into the corner where all of her foes now lay. A flash of gold and her aura was gone for a second, the gold temporarily enveloping the pet. The punch seemed to awaken the beast, dispelling the status effect; as soon as it was gone, the gold returned to Angel. Halfway to the corner, the pet reoriented itself so it was flying headfirst at the small group. It reached back and plucked a pair of feathers from its wings and gripped them like twinblades. Blades, in fact, they were. When it had almost reached the end of its chain, and almost reached the group, it dug the blades into the floor and flipped. Legs slammed in a heavy kick into the top of the piled players, and it changed its direction to up. Now above the piled people, it tossed the featherknives downwards. They shattered in mid-air, raining hundreds of needles down on the players below. They didn’t seem to be slowed by anything, tearing through flesh and bone and armor as though untouched, leaving only trails of liquid pain, making sure those at the bottom of the pile were harmed just as much as the rest.
If the pet could look cocky, it did so now. At least, for a second, before Angel scowled and yanked it back. Startled, it flew until it was hovering once more at the side of Angel. So… that was how she would attack. This humanoid figure was, apparently, little more than a sentient chain-weapon with weapons of its own.
---------------------ooc:
Suzaku and Nulus are at half-strength: whatever they do to affect themselves, the bosses, or the targeted party is at half power. However, now if they try to leave, it will be a fight against a pushing pressure. Still possible, but hard. Hacorie would feel slight resistance, and can affect the targeted group slightly, but not much.
Here’s how it works: People not targeted can’t affect people who are, and people who are can’t affect those who aren’t. the more the untargeted do that would affect the targeted or the boss, the more it does, but the more likely they are to be targets themselves. As a result, the more they effect the targeted group, the harder it is to leave, and the less they can affect those who are untargeted. Kind of confusing, to let me know if you have questions.
There’s no HP counter to this battle visible anywhere, though damage numbers will still appear over the pet. Damage doesn’t appear when attacking Angel herself.
Most of you are doing rather well with the twice a week format, so well done. Because of how fast the first floor was done and how quickly the boss fight’s first phase is likely to end… I’d say we’re already 20-30% done with the quest. Good job so far.
![Image](http://static.flickr.com/48/185807763_8ac187a5da_o.jpg)
Wishlist: Any Armor or Weapons under level 50, Any Scrolls (prefer level 2+)