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Wheezing Werewolf

Antique Queen
arrow Guildhall Ward, Hospital

A few hours after the altogether baffling attack on the Dark Swan, the four who had fallen to the deadly fumes were safely tucked away into series of hospital beds at the opposite end of the Guildhall Ward. Paired two by two, the twins had of course been placed in a room together. They were a matching pair, after all, and none would think to separate them. That left Tres and Lovi to a room split in two by a large white curtain. As though the other half of the space were a window into a grim truth that neither of them wanted to see. Not that any of the patients 'could' see, as they were all presently unconscious.

Or they were.

Lovi opened her eyes slowly, the distilled scent of the place reaching into her mind and pulling forth memories that left terrible dreams in their wake. She was confused, as one might have expected. Looking back on the event that put her there was like trying to remember a fleeting dream. It didn't seem real at first. But then, what did in such a place as Sigil? She recognized the feel of hospital gowns and sheets. She wondered if she had been injured, but there was no blast from whatever bomb that b*****d KB had planted. She did feel sick, though. Very sick.

Charisma sat in a chair not far off. Lovi could hear her breathe, the room was so quiet.

"Charisma?" she sounded tired, but not as weak as she might have expected, "What happened? How long was I out?" And why did she feel like such a colossal pile of s**t?

There was another fighter. Another man. A fighter who seemed to have the upper hand against the cyberpunk. At least for the moment. Henry's brow furrowed and he turned to face this man - this, Clash. Another opponent he had to walk though? It seemed so. Not surprising. No matter how good you are, there's always someone better.

There wasn't any time to get a really good look at this man. Henry felt a sudden weight on his side, forcing him to the ground. It was Terrence, bringing the fight to the ground. A smart move of his part - this is where he'd have the advantage.

Henry did what he could to cover up. He raised both arms, covered his head like a kid hiding under a deck during a bomb drill. Blows rained down onto the back of his head, his hands caught inbetween. Not exactly the most comfortable position.


Trexasle's avatar

Chatty Fatcat

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Terrance Vanguard


User ImageThe Male took pride in his sudden position. He never felt this sort of rush before the rush of fighting somebody head to head. IT was something he wouldn’t even dream of before, but now, whatever KB did. It sort of gave him a new leash on things. Strange what losing your arm could do to you. Suddenly his next point of attack came to him. His right arm, the one that was no longer of flesh but of cold heavy metal. That’s what he was going to use next.

He stopped punching the male and instead switched to elbows, this time going exclusively with his right arm. He assumed what he did would cause major damage however there was one flaw. He’s now striking with any sort of precision. His strikes are going to the same place, the right side of The male’s head. Another novice move of course, one that no ground striker would ever make. It should be obvious from this point that while the boy was strangely tough, he had absolutely no clue what he was doing.

It also didn't help that Terrance wasn't postured up correctly. His legs were now completely covering his opponents back instead. his legs were sprawled on the right side of his body. If a wrestler was in town, he'd probably laugh at Terrance before escaping and slap him upside the head for good measure



Henry had rolled face-down now, hands still covering his head and elbows guarding the side. This did not discourage Terrence at all and he continued to rain blows. It's not like was a bad idea or anything. Damage is damage, and Terrence was certainly doing some. But of course he got a little too uppity in the meantime: he'd moved up, and his legs were misplaced. They'd been splayed off to the side; Terrence was more laying on top of Henry than anything.

Still covering, Hank began shying backward, trying to worm his way out from under Terrence. He used his knees to pull his body back. Once he'd gotten almost out from under his opponent's arm he'd let one arm down to come back and wrap around Terrence's middle, leaving his head still covered by the kid's arm pit.

In this position, he'd begin to stand, but without releasing his opponent. In fact, he'd pull him up as well, so that he was standing behind Terrence, head under his arm and both arms wrapped around his waist.
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Beloved Raider

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[Somewhere on Gaia]

"You want to get to Sigil?"

"I do."

"Well, all right, but you be careful. This key leads to the worst part of that city, and it'll be a one way trip."

"I understand. And thank you." Stepping forward, Erin paid the shop keeper for the key he'd taken out and placed on the counter.

While it would have been easiere to simply wait until she had arrived in one of the major cities and taken the one of the permanent portals to the City of Doors, the twenty-year old female was unwilling to wait the extra week it would take to reach Barton. "Just any old door will do, correct?" He had already explained the process to her, but it wouldn't hurt just to make sure. When he nodded, she smiled and stepped out of the shop and out onto street, immediately taking a left towards the alleyway.

There she would find the side entrance to the shop she'd just left. Lifting the key, the redhead slid it into the keyhole and stopped. She looked back out at the street. It was just barely past noon here. Would it still be the same time of day on the other side of the portal? Erin took a deep breath. "Doesn't matter." She'd already purchased the key. It was already in the lock.

This was just another stop on her aimless journey around the realm of Gaia.

With this thought, she turned the key, opened the door, and stepped through into Sigil, The City of Doors.

[The Hive]

Erin stepped out onto the road, the door she'd stpped through closing behind her as she did so. Raising her hand, the youth combed her fingers through the messy strands of red. She had arrived.
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Terrance Vanguard


User ImageTerrance was very confident in his ability to strike the male,his small grasp of life seemed to work. However, he was shocked when the male was able to slide from under him. The male was using his knee to inch himself away, and it seemed to be working. Suddenly Terrance metal elbow slammed into the ring instead of the male’s head causing a indent to be left into the ring. Terrance snarled, he wanted to turn around and continue his assault however, he was surprised by the male’s next action.

Terrance gasped at the sight of the male grabbing his waist. He was no fighter, but he was a huge fan of pro wrestling. While he doubted it was practical or the fact he could get it done, the fact that the male had him in a waist lock was enough to put a bit of fear into his. He began to squirm and clench onto the man's wrist, his heavy, hastened breathing showing signs of his desperation. He was sweating Profusely from his attempts to power himself out.

However he was but a small male and thus he doubt that he could break the stronger man's grip. He had to rely on his built in weaponry. He began to use the same metal elbow to potato the male in hopes of knocking him unconscious before he did something that would cause serious damage to him.


[Shadow Plane]

Be it the Nine Hells, or the Heavens, the Abyss or Celestial planes, one could get anywhere if they knew how to tread the gray and black ‘landscape’ of the Shadow Plane. It was really hard to call it landscape though, shadowscape seemed far more appropriate, a twisted visage of the planes connecting to this place. Trees were warped and withered, simple skeletal arms with no foliage poking out of the darkness that was sufficiently solid enough to call the ground. Buildings seemed to be along the same path, crumbling ruins even when in reality they may have been a majestic towering spire. It didn’t matter what the structure was, plant animal, cliff, mountain, the plane twisted the shadow into an eerie shell of the reality of that item.

It went without saying, this plane, this land was fairly empty, Most simply didn’t know how to traverse it, how to take a step into shadow and bound across this place to another. And even those that did had issues with getting lost, even falling prey to the shadow beasts and beings that did make a home here. One particular being didn’t, having used this method of transportation for several years now.

“Ah.. You’re back here, Eh? Going to the City of Doors again?” Unfortunately, this particular traveler hardly ever went unnoticed when he walked through this particular portion of the realm. The voice sprouted up all around the traveler, enough power, the weight of something truly ancient, evident to make the shades of black and gray quiver around the being so pestered. “That is unfortunate…”

“Nothing better to do than bother me as I travel, old man?” Came the irritated reply from the traveller, whose eyes flickered toward the horizon to his right. Those rings of jade green that swam in a sea of darkness being the only color that manifested within this realm, shrinking into mere slivers as he narrowed his eyes. Those eyes had settled on the lump of shadow in the distance, two bright orbs of the same color glowering back at the traveler.

“Now now, is that any way to speak to someone of your blood, little Menace.” The reply was made in that of one who thought they were superior to anything else. Such was the case with most Old ones. Even worse when they were a devil, worse yet when they were once one at the top of the food chain for those beings. “You know, my offer still stands.. You should reconsider it…” The ancient purred out.

“Bah.. You still want me to be your champion? To wage war and battle in your name?” The traveler scoffed at the notion, returning his eyes to his intended path as the black and gray shadowscape sped past as he walked. The nature of this plane meant travel was quick. A single step could span leagues of distance, such is why the traveler use shadowstepping as his mode of transportation. As for the offer… “No. I need not concern myself with your stupid wars, slinking through shadow to just fight in your name. Bah…” It was an old argument, one he’d been having with this entity for two years now, always the same answer came, No. “Don’t you have your little cults and cabals to do that? Why should I bother helping your ancient a**?”

A rumble of discontent, all the weight of something ancient shaking the realm around the traveler. “They’re not of my blood, they can’t and won’t be able to do what you can.”

“Bah.. My priorities shifted long ago anyways. I don’t simply fight for fighting’s sake anymore.” The man replied as his tail twitched in irritation, the length of glossy black tipped with a spaded tail from his heritage flicking angrily. He knew what the next reply would be already.

“Fine.. I’ll just have to urge you through your sensibilities…” Here it came, the usual threat. “Your wife… I know you want to protect that petite honey-haired healer of yours,” The ancient one purred out, “Of course… something unfortunate might befall her for your Insolence.”

“Oh [******** off. You’d just be wasting your pool of power.” Every time he’d threatened to do so, He’d sent some cultist of a whole cabal to their graves, which had left their souls to the being, not that that had helped the ancient. It didn’t matter anyways, this conversation was over, the traveler had made it to his destination.

“Might want to reconsid--” The words were cut off as the man made his way through the shadow, slipping back to the material plane, stepping out into….


[The Hive: Somewhere between the Market Ward border and the Hive Center]

…A street filled with zombies. Great.

He saw them even as the inky darkness slithered off his body, revealing the raven-haired man. Lean and only 5’8” the man didn’t strike an imposing figure. Take away the tail and eyes and he’d seem completely normal. But that would hardly matter to a zombie pack, Right? His presence would likely just set off dinner bells in their heads. “Well [********] ding ding ding. More importantly, just where the ******** was he? Horrible stench of undead, ramshackle looking buildings. The Hive? At least he’d been in this part of sigil before, But… “Which ******** way is out?”

“Tried to warn you…” came a chuckle in his head, that same ******** voice he thought he’d escaped from. “It’s worse to your right…” At least it was being helpful now. That left which choice of weapon, blade or gun? The tiefling had either, though only the guns were apparent on his person, being slung in shoulder holsters, two .45s. Noise versus relative silence. Whatever. It didn’t matter to the Tiefling in the end as he started making his way toward the Market ward. He’d simply decide whenever the damned drew closer.
Sir Jing's avatar

Dangerous Genius

arrow The Hive


Ripping open like a wound, a thin tear of energy formed in the air. A man collapsed onto the ground and fell to one knee. Slowly standing back up he turned around just as the portal that he entered through closed behind him, forever sealing. Reaching up with both hands he stroked them through his golden hair, which then after began producing a small amount of sparks that rolled off his finger tips. His armor made faint sounds of metal clinking on metal as he began to investigate his immediate surroundings. The stranger's armor shone brightly even in the shadows of the nearby buildings, and the man's eyes were as malicious as they were curious. The portal that brought him here was in fact a failed means of transportation. In his attempt to create an artificial gateway to a different dimension he ended up here instead of his intended destination. Like when one accidentally gets off at the wrong bus stop. But one thing was certain;
Sir Jing was now in Sigil.

With a smirk on his face he exited the alley and began to make his way down the street, making sure to keep his distance from the general public as much as possible until he could properly asses the situation. His senses were reaching out over the city, feeling all the manipulable metals and the bio-electric signals of the commoners. Unlike in Barton Town or Durem, where he would've caused a city wide panic if he were caught strolling down the street. This place was new, fresh, and none of his enemies could follow him here to stop him... As this thought formed in his mind, Jing's smile slowly stretched wider across his face. He was going to have a very busy summer..
Some Nights


"Pull your head out and use both hands to grab his left hand."
HonoRaven

Just Naota


(it's been a few days and HonoRaven hasn't replied, and Frank needs to move on. i'm assuming she'll somehow escape the gas explosion, so she can just harbor a huge resentment against the Frenchman)

[Somewhere in Sigil]

Frank ran until his legs pumped battery acid. Thrown into a warzone and unprepared for it, the pragmatic Frenchman decided to remove himself from quagmire as fast as possible. As he slowed down, panting, sweating, he decided he needed to find allies and information; then, he'd choose a course of action. In retrospect, he figured that Krausse dropped him in Sigil in order to resolve the situation.

Why Krausse wanted Frank to resolve the situation instead of antagonize and capitalize on it, Frank didn't know. The Crimson King worked in mysterious ways, and Frank was nowhere near being free of his contract. Not that the mercenary minded; it paid lucratively, and he was second-in-command to one of the most powerful individuals on the Primus, who also happened to be his blood relation.

Small universe.

Once Frank regained his breath and assessed his location, he headed towards the Guildhall Ward. Time to meet with an old friend.

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

[Guildhall Ward] - [Dark Swan]

"Oi, even ze whores cannot be spared by zis terrible violence. Not even ze beautiful, beautiful whores..."

The wailing of ambulances transporting the comatose and a gathering crowd of onlookers masked Frank's already unremarkable entrance. He found himself at the front by slipping through nooks in the gathered crowd and meeting the glares of those he bumped in to with a determined, 'get out of my way' look. Ticker tape had been set up, but Frank went under it.

A cop, asserting authority: "Sir, you can't enter here, this is-"

Feigning a fine Gaian accent, Frank replied, "I'm related to Lovi- Ah, Ed!"

Frank brushed past the cop, who shrugged and went back to keeping the crowd under control, and went over and patted the cyborg on the shoulder.

"It's my favorite metal man! How 'as ze a** kicking business been treating you? Also, why are zombies roaming ze streets? I got nearly eaten by a schoolgirl, and it was not ze most pleasant experience!"
Trexasle
Zerogamer


User Image

Ailsa Graystone


Human Female...

Mood: Calm I Health: Normal I Ki Level: Normal




Ailsa wanted to scream at Ceaser. Honestly, he needed to take a chill pill or at least get a proper night sleep. But then again who was she to talk. She had been pretty hard on herself as well. She was way too skiny, too pale, and looked like hell even though she did her best to put as much makeup as she could to make herself look good. Ceaser was doing pretty bad as well, aging before his time.

The Kids were putting themselves through hell weren't they?

She removed her hand from his shoulder, putting her hands in her pockets. "We should look in other places. Leave him alone."





Theme Song: Die Another Day


Location- Blue Rose

Quote:
"Pull your head out and use both hands to grab his left hand."


Well, duh.

It's not like there was any other choice. The first elbow that came down was more than enough incentive for Henry to shove Terrence forward and push himself backward to yank his head free. There was something off about that arm. Having stumbled backward into the ropes behind him, Henry rested a hand on the top of his skull, sure that there would be an enormous knot there in a few minutes time. His skull pounded. The pain pulsed.

No, it wasn't just the arm. There was something off about the kid in general. He was a garbage fighter but made up for it with a skull made of what could only be cast-iron, considering how hard Henry had nailed him with the one-two a moment ago.

Henry would just have to hit him harder. He hadn't capitalized on being behind Terrence yet, instead preferring to fight the man face-to-face. In the time it took Terrence to turn around, Henry would be removing his shirt. It freed him up a bit and took away a few convenient hand-holds for the wrestling-experienced Terrence, who would no doubt notice that his opponent didn't like to fight on the ground. Next came his shoes, which were kicked off one after the other. This left him dressed in just his blue jeans, holes and all.

Once both combatants had locked eyes again, Henry strode forward; hands raised and fisted with his chin down to guard his noggin. He'd stay just shy of where he'd estimated Terrence's reach to be. Henry had seen something to be cautious of; a likelihood of non-organic parts. Whether it was his entire body or just the arm remained to be seen, but either way Henry was not going to underestimate Terrence a second time.
Anima Shadow
[The Hive]

Erin stepped out onto the road, the door she'd stepped through closing behind her as she did so. Raising her hand, the youth combed her fingers through the messy strands of red. She had arrived.


Just in time for someone to run into her!

A young man tripped over himself and bumped into her before tumbling off to the side. He scrambled to his feet, looking over his shoulder frightfully. "Run!" He yelled, before taking off down the street away from her. After around ten paces an area near him suddenly exploded into a great roiling ball of orange flame. Half the of the man was instantly consumed and turned black, causing him to collapse and twitch wildly.

When Erin looked in the direction the man had come from, she would see gruesome zombies shambling through the streets in her direction and black-robed figures throwing destructive magic into the fleeing citizens of Sigil.
Menace Mackintosh
[Shadow Plane][The Hive: Somewhere between the Market Ward border and the Hive Center]

…A street filled with zombies. Great.

He saw them even as the inky darkness slithered off his body, revealing the raven-haired man. Lean and only 5’8” the man didn’t strike an imposing figure. Take away the tail and eyes and he’d seem completely normal. But that would hardly matter to a zombie pack, Right? His presence would likely just set off dinner bells in their heads. “Well [********] ding ding ding. More importantly, just where the ******** was he? Horrible stench of undead, ramshackle looking buildings. The Hive? At least he’d been in this part of sigil before, But… “Which ******** way is out?”


This guy's entrance was... a bit more notable, and for that he drew a bit more attention. Fortunately, the Market Ward and its standby security forces were pretty close. That meant that the zombies and such were still pretty deep in the Hive, since they were still in the process of expanding their ground and securing the area.

That wouldn't stop one necromancer in the distance from deciding to try and take a lucky shot though. Eying up his target from a few hundred feet away, the necromancer quickly threw together a noxious spell. An arcane mixture of secret words and charged hand gestures brought to life a greenish sickly glow around his fingers. Thrusting them in the stranger's direction, a stream of acid suddenly erupted forth. The large spray of acid would arc towards the man and if he didn't make to move, impact him and the area around him within a few feet. Anything caught in the spell that wasn't amply protected would quickly become a corroded mess.

Meanwhile, zombies formed ranks in front of the necromancers protectively.
[The Hive: Spotted, predictably]

Luckily the Tiefling was a rather observant person. Observant and tactical. The mob of zombies forming around something, Then... green Ooze flying at him? From that far away? ******** casters. Almost a bad as a sniper. Almost. The tiefling swiftly reversed direction, moving closer to the nearest building as he stretched out his right hand, dragging the gloved fingers across the wall before rounding a corner. "Darkness~" He'd utter, and from where his hand last touched the wall a ball of impenetrable darkness 10 feet in diameter sprouted up. Unfortunately that was only a split second before the acid splattered down, splashing that arm as he slipped into the alley.

Darkness a spell-like ability

Whenever this spell like ability is used, it forms an impenetrable sphere of shadow 10-15 feet in radius, essentially blinding whatever is inside, as well as blocking the view of anything looking into the sphere. The sphere will last until cancelled or the caster is out of range, 30 yards. It may also be cancelled out with a light spell. 3 uses a day. Uses one Shadow energy.


The acid ate away at his right sleeve and glove, revealing what they hid, his glossy black metallic arm. Even then, it got pitted a little bit, before he flicked his arm toward a wall watching the acid slosh off like water off a duck's back. Strangely, it didn't make the usual hydraulic or gear noises one expected from s metallic prosthetic. A mystery for another time for those that wondered. The acid had also managed to eat away a bit of his hair, and a few stray splatters ate at the right leg of his leather pants as well as his right flank. But he brushed those away, holes and eaten flesh. "Well... Not going down that street. Maybe the alleys will offer better protection..." he'd murmur to himself as he started along, not giving the mage, warlock, whatever it was time to come after him. And, if one did happen to come after him, He'd be ready. Already he'd sunken his hands into the deep shadows as he picked up his pace into a run, pulling them back out with two one handed blades, curved and made of the purest darkness. Shadow Scimitars.

Shadowcraft(weapon)

This ability is one of a Shadowsmith's signatures. it allowed one to mold shadowstuff into instruments of death, pulling darkness from the plane of shadow in the form of a two-handed weapon, or two One-handed weapons. These weapons will last for 2 hours upon creation as long as they are in their creator's possession. If out of the possession of the creator, they will fade after two posts. Costs: 4 shadow energy for one two-hander, or 2 for each one-hander.


Status: Slightly damaged from acid
Mood: Wary
-Resources-
Shadow Energy: 15 ( 20-5 for Darkness 1 + 2 x 2 for each shadow blade)
Darkness uses left: 2


o KB o

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