Sigil: T.C.o.D - [Walk-In][Modern Fantasy: Cycle 32][O/A]

[Trexasle]

Terrance Vanguard

Terrance was lost again.

It wasn’t that the GPS on his watch wasn’t working (Though that was equally the case.), it was also because he just could not tell the difference between north and south. His sense of direction is what one would call, horrendous. He rubbed his head and stepped into a nearby building, he hoped it was at least a bar. Maybe, he could get some directions to the Dark Swan.

It turned out he was wrong.

The Bright lights of the arena blinded his face, he was only able to see a ring, and somebody inside it running the ropes. Of course the male was the only guy there and he had to ask him about where to go. “Excuse me sir, can you t-tell me how to get to the Dark Swan around here?” He raised his eyebrow, held a picture of it in his right hand, and running his hand through his hair with the left.

[General Clash Warmaker]

The man running the ropes glared at Terrance. "You don't want to go to the 'Dark Swan.' Stick around here for a while. Live merrily. And while you're at it, train."

[Some Nights]

Henry glanced over his shoulder, caught a glimpse of Terrence. He twisted around to find a picture of this 'Black Swan' or whatever held up at eye-level. Henry hadn't seen the place before. He hadn't been in Sigil for very long. A day or two maybe. Henry shook his head.

"Nah, I don't know where that is," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Why're you looking for it?" Henry asked.

[Trexasle]

Terrance Vanguard

“Investigation, recently attacked, more than likely gas bombed, might noeed hazmat equipment from Fal’lain corp.” He said. He realized how unprepared he spoke to the male in the ring. He climbed up and stepped in. Or at least attempted to, he attempted to slide his way in the ropes, got his legs caught, and tripped. His face slammed into the ring mat and breaking the glasses that he had on. It was obvious that the boy did not have any knowledge of a ring.


“What is this place?” It looked like an arena but he was certain it was abandoned arena. It seemed so empty however. The lights, illuminating the ring looked nicee. But the seats were obviously old and worn, the concreate staircases looked as if they would crack and break at any moment, and the scent was horrific. he could tell that it was once full of life in some strange past life in this godforsaken Town. However, it was obvious that the building was on it’s last legs.

This gave him another question he turned to the male and asked. “What bring you to abandoned crappy arena?

[Some Nights]

The boy was as uncoordinated as they came. Henry grabbed one of his arms and hauled him up to his feet. Wasn't anything he could do about the glasses now, though. Hopefully the guy's eyesight wasn't too bad or he might be in a bit of trouble.

"An attack?" He parroted. "That's unfortunate." Things were bad all over, he surmised. Guess there was no getting away from bad guys. At least a gas attack was containable. Henry didn't think there was any way to contain someone like Dzan Streea.

"I'm practicing," he replied, snapping back to attention. "Practicing my fighting techniques." Henry turned, gestured widely to the area around him.

"This looked like a good place to do so." There was a ring, a locker room, even some gear in a closet in the back. It was a great place to get some combat training done. It was like an abandoned Lu-Bu.

[Trexasle]

Terrance Vanguard

“Ah, nice to hear you are practicing…” He said. He pulled out his phone and began to dial a number on his phone. He would wait for somebody to pick up, only to hear nothing. Moving the phone away from his ears, he checked the screen and seen the indication for a low battery. “Wonder, battery life low on phone, any place to charge?” He leaned toward the ropes and sighed. During his exhale however, his body slipped through the ropes and onto the ground.

The boys clumsiness seems to have been getting very agitating. Certainly, he was not going to go to that place alone without any knowledge of fighting or getting things done. HE didn’t look like he could harm a fly, let alone withstand gas.

He climbed back into the ring and groaned slightly. The pain was only minor and it didn’t hold him back. He stared back at his arm reminding himself of the worst pain of his life and then at the watch attached to the metal arm. He still had a lot of time. If he was going to withstand attacks toward him, he needed to know how to fight.

Suddenly he got an idea.

“S-Sir, do you mind S-S-Sparing with me?” He asked with a stammer. His face pointed toward the ground and he began to twiddle around with his fingers.

[Some Nights]

Henry helped haul the clumsy guy back into the ring.

"You drunk or something?" He asked, trying to figure out why exactly he was incapable of staying on his feet for more than a couple of minutes. Maybe his equilibrium was screwed up or something. Like because of some inner-ear disorder. Henry was about to ask when Terrence piped up about a fight.

This guy busted his a** twice in three minutes and he wants to fight? He didn't ask with much conviction either, as if he weren't really sure. Henry's eyebrows raised and he leaned against the topmost rope to his right. He did need the practice; although Terrence didn't look as though he was much of a challenge. Henry shook his head.

"Fine, but you asked for it," he said, looking up before wrenching his left arm under to aim a hook at Terrence's midsection.


[bed]

[Zerogamer]

Trexasle

-Ailsa Graystone-

Blue Rose - Red Demon

The demon had seemed perfectly content to just ignore the two, but it seemed the brute wanted more. As his collar was pulled the demon suddenly got an evil look on his face, and his eyes began to let go. "Look here you insufferable oaf, you will release me or you will pay for this insolence." He didn't seem to actually move much once lifted by his collar but his tail whipped into view and it looked like a razor sharp blade at the end. His teeth were blindingly white and contrasted against black gums. His breath smelled a little like mint and brimstone. The female then tried to hold back her companion. Well enough, however he wasn't going to lower his guard until he was lowered back to the ground. He wouldn't be roughed up by some unthinking beast.

[Knight Breaker]

The Hive - Infected Zone

"...Revolution..."

KB spoke the name from atop a hill of rubble with reverence, looking to the inscrutable sky above. Somewhere up there he knew she was hard at work. It only took a few moments for his call to be answered, a sharp pain in his midsection causing him to double over with a gasp. Gritting his teeth together he pulled the choking hot mask from his face and let it clatter against the rocks at his feet.

Inside his chest the nexus of his animating energy flashed, causing a burst of light to flicker from his eyes and mouth. Biting back the light as he fell to his knees KB clutched the part of him that hurt intensely, the flesh roiling beneath his hands. Every inch of his body suddenly felt as though it were on fire, like every nerve was alight like never before. For a being unaccustomed to mortal senses the agony was unbearable.

He screamed, the sound low and full of pain. Somewhere in his mind he knew that his flesh was simply acting as a catalyst for a necessary transformation. It didn't help. After a few minutes of torture a bulge appeared near his chest. Lifting his shirt to reveal it, he smiled through labored breaths as his skin finally split open. His pale hands took hold of the dark object that was stuck in him, gripping it tightly in spite of the slippery blood.

It was a slow process but he was finally able to draw the item free and hold it up, glistening darkly with his gore. He laughed to himself through pained gasps as he inspected the sword, the item still flawless after so many years of use. Remembering back to when it had first been presented to him he couldn't help but marvel at how easily she had birthed it from her flesh. What had seemed to be a trivial task to her was monumental to him. Such was her boundless power.

A power he'd once held, but squandered.

"Nothing... can stop us now." He promised, fighting to his feet. KB stumbled over to where the mask had come to a stop and picked it up, taking his time as every movement elicited a sharp intake of breath. His lungs normally accustomed only to the shallow breath necessary for quiet speech crackled inside with each full gulp of air he took. After retrieving the mask and donning it he turned his attention to the landscape of broken bodies.

"Beautiful." He noted before turning the sword over in his hand and thrusting it into the ground. He fell to a knee in doing so, sinking the blade into the broken street to the hilt. A subtle tremor shook the pavement widening cracks and jostling rubble until the fresh blood in the vicinity reacted. Instead of coagulating or drying it seemed to react with a sense of urgency like living liquid, flowing freely from its former bodies. Trickles became streams, which became rivers flowing towards him, until minutes passed and he was shin-deep in a small ocean of blood. It fed itself up his body and into his wounds steadily, repairing the damages done by his summoning act. For the weapon to be brought forth at least a hundred people had to be slain in order to keep him intact long enough to use it.

When KB stood, he drew the sword from the ground and inspected it. There wasn't a single scratch or nick along the length of the blade.

"Quite beautiful."

[Just Naota]

arrow Guildhall Ward, Outside the Dark Swan

"Right," Edward reassured the woman further alongside her own assurances that her family was okay and that she could be of aid. It wasn't difficult for the cyborg to say so either. Of course, he couldn't guarantee that her friends wouldn't succumb to the poisonous gas and die horrible deaths. The thought had crossed his electronically fast-paced mind hundreds of time. It was a very real possibility as such was the nature of poisons. And though it angered him a bit, just like failure, he accepted death just as well if not better. However, there wasn't any evidence (in his mind) that lead him to believe that the gas was deadly, or that if it was deadly then it worked at horrendously slow speeds. From what the cyberpunk had gathered, in conjunction with his experience with chemical weapons over the years (not to mention the discipline in which his honorary title of 'Dr." came from), this one proved to be comparatively weaker than most of the compounds Edward had ever worked with. He knew of compounds that could kill people within minutes from an extremely miniscule dosage. Tres, Lovi and the Hannahs must have been inside the Swan for several minutes inhaling the stuff, and they still weren't showing any symptoms of having been poisoned besides on unconsciousness. Though Edward supposed that it was more likely that their state was caused by a shortage of oxygen.

So as far as Edward knew, he was telling the truth as he knew it, and it was always easy to tell the truth when you were committed to it.

Listening to Charisma, the cyberpunk received the information without making a peep. The name Tilly didn't mean anything to him, nor did it seem to matter much for now. The bomber hadn't appeared inside the building and she hadn't been dragged out. So it only meant two things. She was either dead. Or had escaped after having set up the explosives. Either possibility was just as well to Edward. In one case, someone got what they deserved, and in the other said person would receive the same in the form of the cyberpunk himself. The name KB, however, meant quite a lot to the detective. Quickly, all the evidence Ed had acquired over the course of the investigation became one cohesive picture. The name Kyle Baker, as common and harmless sounding as it was, had only been the long-form of the initials and in a way a pseudonym for the infamous vampire. By the name, the cyberpunk wouldn't have ever guessed who it belonged to, and due to it's commonality he was sure that a search on numerous databases wouldn't have been helpful either. The details of the crime crossed his mind as well. Three bullets in the wall, four casings, and blood splatter. Besides the body, it was the only evidence that murder had occurred. Yet, none of it had been responsible in the death of Liss. And now it was all linked together.

He couldn't begin to fathom the vampire's reasons, but the events (Edward was sure) were accurate. The trajectory of all the bullets in the wall intersected in the same spot, while the analysis of the blood splatter had indicated that the point of origin of the bloodletting event had occurred in and around the area where the gunshot trajectories intersected. Albeit, give or take a couple of inches or so in various directions. But all the same, the place where the gun was fired and the bleeding took place were practically one in the same. With that said, along with the fact that KB was now the true killer and the man who had been at the Swan and left his calling card, the mystery of the missing bullet wasn't any longer a mystery. Edward didn't know why or what drove the vampire to do such a thing, but he had one missing bullet and a single wound. KB had shot himself...

The detective's cyber-brain went in several dozen directions at once, all at the same time, and all moving at about 200 miles per hour. Despite succeeding in piecing together all the clues, albeit too slowly for it to have done any good, things had easily gotten about a million times more difficult. At first, all they had was a faceless murderer who used magic or ultra-violence. But now, nothing had really changed except now the murderer had a face, and one Edward knew very well. And was very wary of. The vampire was a dangerous one, heavily skilled in combat and easily one of the best competitors in the Gaian tournament circuit that the cyborg had ever seen. Which was only one half of the problem, the other half had more to do with Edward himself than the vampire. The punk wasn't sure if he could even win a fight against the creature. Such a feat seemed even less likely if KB had come to town with a Scourge.

Suddenly, his a million a mile per hour mental rant came to a screeching halt as Edward noted Charisma's hands on his chest and neck. The punk didn't know what to say to that. Clearly, it wasn't the time or place for this sort of thing, but Edward wasn't exactly displeased by it either. It was surprising in an unsettling manner, as the actions didn't carry the sort of emotional weight you expected from casual lovers. It was the sort of compassion expected of only the most intimate of couples. The cyberpunk enjoyed the touch, because obviously who wouldn't, but neither could he shake off the feeling of uncomfortableness as Chari's actions opened emotional wounds of previous relationships.

Of course, he kept the unease off of his face for Charisma's sake, even managing to close his eyes as the Songstress stepped in for the kiss. Edward returned the kiss in nearly the same manner that Charisma had given it; the cyberpunk knowing full-well what the reciprocation of those feelings and actions (even if they weren't wholly authentic) meant to her.

"Yeah," the cyberpunk spoke softly as the ambulances made their final approaches, parked, and emergency workers disembarked. "I need you to go with your family to the hospital. The workers may need someone with power of attorney to make decisions for Lovi and the others if they aren't awake, and all four of them need you there. You're family to them and they'd want to see a familiar face when they wake. Okay?"

[Konditori]

Iyuesturu

~Space Jelly~
~Soi Shoppe~

The jelly glowed brighter in response to this sudden ball of energy, matching it's color about as well as it did Risa's voice, which of course, it tried again
"Huuu ahr uuuuu" It said, as it "swam" towards the ball. It bumped it with it's tip but quickly flew back flashing in various colors, like a gummy Christmas tree. It flailed around and made high pitched noises, but none of them were even remotely words.

[Abyssal Majesty]

arrow Guildhall Ward, The Dark Swan

A mistake. Her grin melted away.

Reluctantly, Charisma tucked her hair behind her ear, her eyes widening out of the embarrassment. What was she thinking to do that? He might have liked it a little, but there was an obvious vote of restraint that Edward showed. She let her guard down too far, and for it, she made things terribly awkward between the two.

"O-oh.. U-umm."

The normally confident women looked to the ground as if the right words would spring up at her and save what dignity she had left. Crossing her arms tightly across her chest, the songstress took a few steps back, the ground yielded no secrets for her. The escort was only left with her personal blunder.

"Right.. Sorry..." She shook her head. "I'll go with them."

Pursing her lips together, Charisma held back any further tears that tried to sneak out. The day was a plethora of emotions, some good, others not so smartly used. She let her own interests get in the way of helping her family. No matter what the cyborg meant by his reaction, Charisma could only feel the rejection, even if it was in the slightest. Reaching out to touch his arm, she stopped herself in fear that it would only make things worse.

"Be careful, Ed."

Looking up, she locked eyes with him for just a moment. She meant it, and she meant him no harm for whatever it was worth. Once again, her gazed strayed to the ground as she turned to meet with the workers to tell them what she knew and the like.

"Call me if you need me.."

As cliche as it was, she stopped to look over her shoulder to get a good last look at him. She had a bad feeling that it was going to be a long time before she'd see him again, and she wanted a memento. A smile crept up on the bird's lips before she continued her course. Instead of talking with the workers, they ushered her inside the ambulance to sit with Lovi, closing the doors shortly there after.

Just Naota

Lady Gilaen

[Trexasle]

Terrance Vanguard

The impact of the fist to his gut caused the air to escape from his lung. His eyes went wide as he went for one giant gasp of air. This is how a fight felt? His mind went back to the moment again, The hachet coming down on his arm. The hook to his midsection didn’t compare to that, he could fight through this measly punch. He groaned and snapped his head back up going into stance. His eyes was now locked onto the male his eyebrows furrowed, face suddenly stern.

He stepped forward toward his opponent and decided to throw a left cross, aimed at the opposition’s head The attack itself however did not have a good form, while quick it was obvious from both the stance, and the way he threw the punch that he had no combat experience. His feet placement was off and he wasn’t positioned nearly as well as he should be.

[HonoRaven]

Krausse Kreugar

Frank looked at the woman queerly. "Ah, but, madame, why are you talking like zat? Are you mocking me?!"

The Frenchman was starting to get impatient with the little girl. "I'm leaving. Zat way." He pointed in the general direction that KB was. "Back towards le zombies. Someone has to save ze day, I suppose."

A thick cartridge was chambered, accompanied by a sound not unlike a cash register slammed shut. "Are you trying to stop me?"

Rae just shrugged a bit "I'm older than I look... and on occasion older forms of requests have worked well."


In answer to his last question she simply shook her head slightly and pointed at the gun while looking at the strange shadow that had been standing guard while she tried to nicely convince Frank that this was a bad idea, "Fetch!" Raven commanded before she quickly jumped back around to the cover of the corner of the nearest building.

The shadow that had recently belonged to a zombie moved towards Frank, not really walking but almost gliding as if it was flowing from one pool of darkness to another along the road, making them stretch to touch where there had been obvious patched of brighter light between dark spots. The creature was, although a bit longer in the arms and legs than any normal man, a cloudy colour, like looking through darkly tinted glass, with dull purple eyes. It had no real details to it beyond the eyes, a rounded head and ordinary looking shoulders, and four fingers and a thumb on each of its long arms, but you could not have said what the person it had been attached to had been wearing or their personal features. It was still slightly see through but appeared to be more substantial than an ordinary shadow should be.

[Some Nights]

Bad form doesn't necessarily mean a bad martial artist. It does mean the martial artist isn't trying, for one reason or another, or just can't be bothered to give his attack any forethought, or perhaps he simply lacked discipline and experience. Henry had a good guess about which of these applied to his impromptu opponent, but it didn't really matter which. There is just one fact about a bad punch: it's not worth evading.

CLAP!

Skin on skin contact cracked Henry's head to the side. He dug in and stayed his ground, though. A bright red welt was already vivid against his Caucasian complexion by the time he looked back at Terrence. Blood had rushed to the surface capillaries and the tiny vessels inflamed. The area felt hot and itchy, a feeling Henry was familiar with. That burn is exactly what he came here to feel.

No pain, no gain.

Henry didn't wait for Terrence to follow through. Or if he had, Henry would work his way through. He reached both hands out cup his hands around the back of Terrence's neck, a clinch. With hands overlapping, Henry would use his grip to wrench his midsection in a twisting motion, dragging his opponent forward while himself moving aside. The intention being to force Terrence into the corner nearby, back to the turnbuckle.