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

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

OOC: Sorry, I try to roleplay with everyone but you were off line by the time I came back. I should have just replied to your post anyway. My bad.

[La Caballero Roja]

Tresondros Ecstuffuan

If the glass was that resilient Tres was going to get to about the length of his upper forearm deep into it before he realized it wasn't going to shatter and his left hand instinctively would grab on that area where there was a gap between the hood of the car and the windshield wipers to hold on to make sure this crazy b***h in her tirade of insanity didn't go on to make even more trouble for Tres. Though the reason why Tres decided to fight back wasn't as forthwith as it may have seemed, he was similar to Roja quite frankly infuriated and though his anger was buried much deeper than it was a few years, ago Roja had found it and now it burned as intensly than the fuel within the car that Tres held onto for dear life.

In that desperate attempt to keep from falling off and getting run over he struggled. His body whipped left and right on top of that car hood like a rag doll despite his own strength. Luckily for Tres his forearm was covered in the psionic energy that produced his watery blade and utilizing that sheath of psionic energy he would be able to remove his arm from the broken windshield despite its jagged protrusions. This freeing of his arm came just in time to smack away the left arm swing of the sledge hammer with a right to left horizontal swing. Immediately after that moment he would bring his feet up and onto the hood to gain some semblance of solid footing to keep himself from swinging about as she swerved dangerously through the crowded streets of the Market Ward.

"Go to sleep!", Tres said as he suddenly thought of something. Tres would position his right arm in the hole he just created and he would focus his mind on shaping his mindblade once again. He would do this just after she ended the drift but before she reached the end of the street. The mind blade would lose its elemental property as it would return to its normal silvery transparent color. Then suddenly the mind blade would extend towards the girls chest, central mass to prevent her from turning or doing much to avoid the blow.

The mindblade would not cut her flesh but would instead deliver a shock to her system that would likely knock her out. Tres wasn't trying to kill her, but she was causing a ******** huge amount of damage that he was now involved in and he had to stop it before it got worse. He also wanted to show Roja that he was now, not one to be ******** with.

Roja nearly lost control of her sledgehammer when he knocked it off him. It wasn't easy keeping grip of her weapon while trying to maneuver her car through the streets. Fortunately, she figured the best way to get rid of Tres was to slam on the breaks and make him eat the upcoming row of vendor stands. Just when she was about to carry out her menacing act, Tres suddenly drove his blade toward her.

"Hey!"

She angrily shouted as she moved her body more out the window to try to dodge the blade, but it managed to hit into her right shoulder. It wasn't a sleeper hit, but that "shock" was enough to cause her to lose grip of her wheel, causing the car to go out of control as it swerved left to right. She slammed her foot onto the brakes, but it was far too late: her car went drifting to the right, slamming into the marketplace, people already rushing away to avoid injury. As her car slammed into the wall of a building, Roja went shooting out of the open window. Hanging out of the car with no seatbelt was asking for this to happen. The front end of her vehicle distorted itself, probably throwing Tres somewhere forward as well.

The luchador went sailing straight into the wooden constructs, merchandise being shattered to the ground as she tore through it with both her body and the momentum behind it. Ending in a tumble on the other side of the now destroyed stand, Roja came to a stop, her legs falling down to have the woman end up on her back with cheap gold watches and jewelry lying around her head and neck, a souvenir for taking a daredevil dive through Jimmy's store of antiques. Roja lied there for the time being, eyes closed and not moving at all as pain stunned her entire body.

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

Propel The Spacecraft in the Pleiades

:The Market Ward:

And Fly Tres did. His grip and was broken from the hood of the car after narrowly maintaining it against the initial sharp turn caused by the shock Tres delivered to her body via his Psi-knife. When the car slammed into the wall mangling its forward side, Tres didn't merely go into whatever structures his persisting momentum threw him into his massive muscular body went through it. The initial shock of the collision knocked Tres unconscious actually blessing his psionically active mind with the boon of not having to feel the pain of the following collision and the hideous snap of many of his bodies bones. Tres actually landed apart from Roja in the scattered splenters of a merchants tent amongst the remains of a broken book shelve. Tres was alive and breathing but he was badly injured and in need of immediate medical attention.

DOUBLE KO

Dwell in the abyssal plane like the hordes of hades

[Sound of Wolf]

Location:
The Pub of Nine Swords (or just outside)

Gideon had been walking for quiet sometime throughout the city of Gaia- till he hit the starting of what was this area known to be Sigil. Dark wine shaded orbs scanned over the cobblestone and almost archaic like architecture of the city. A bright blue brow would arch in question across his normally solemn tanned features. The man, or so he appeared to be physically, was a hard looking man of his late forties, his jaw chiseled and gruff - unshaven, yet not a full grown beard. His ethnicity almost resembling that of an Arabic nation more then anything else with his hard brow and distinct nose.

The man would be adorn in a business casual like attire, with open blazer jacket of striking red shades and matching tie. A black collared shirt, with black dress slacks would follow suit to his fashion- and yet based on his body build, it all seemed out of place for him to wear. Arms would bulge ever so slightly as elbows would bend, his chest pronounced and toned, his eyes sharp and keen to notice movement as they snapped to attention.

Strong boned digits would curl around the shaft of a cigarette, and press to the form of Gideon's lips as he took a long drag - the ember's flaring under the force of breath and smoke wreathing slowly around his visage through flared nostrils. Just one more before we go into this joint, and then we'll see what this area is all about.

[The Female of the Species]

Just Naota

arrow The Grand Bazaar

The cyborg turned slightly, giving his "partner-in-crime" a look as she took his Colt 45 and spoke. He grinned at her, momentarily fending of a salesmaen via a swift one-fingered salute. It sent the guy packing and left the two relatively to their own devices. ******** people. First night in the goddamned City of Doors and the vast majority of the locals annoyed the crap out of him. If they weren't selling a potion that made him smarter but smelled like piss then they were trying to hire him to kill some random drunk the would-be employer had a falling out with. None of that was important though. Must pay attention. Take inventory. Hang out with Sokoya. Act like a tourist. Finally, eyes truly fixed on Soak, knowing that it wasn't difficult to look away, but realizing that the bone mistress was nice to look at when she actually tried...and wasn't covered in blood. Edward considered her question.

"Not sure.." He replied, right hand reaching into his hoodie and searching. His hand grazed over his P226, then his back-up Saturday Night Special under the first firearm, and then the jack pot. He found his camera in the inner-lining of his zip-up hoodie. Furtively, using the loud noises caused by the crowd around them, Edward turned the camera on. All the while, he kept a rather thoughtful look on his face.

"SMILE!" Instantly, Ed reached over Sokoya's shoulder with his prosthetic left, attempting to bring the girl much closer to the cyberpunk. Simultaneously, the right came out armed with a digital camera, pointed straight at them and....FLASH!

The best picture ever happened. The epicness or lack thereof entirely based on how surprised she was. Or if she spilled the Colt 45 on the floor. Yeah.

The punk turned the camera around and brought it in closer to see the final product. "I have no preferences. How about you?"

Edward's gaze found it's way to Sokoya, eyeing her over however it was that he did that. Glacing at her through those ******** hipster glasses of his. She'd smile right back at him, her expression something close to pleasant. To be honest, it was about as much as one could ask for from the woman. It was about this time that he started fumbling around in his clothes. The idea that perhaps her cyborg pal was giving himself a quicky ran through her mind, causing the porcelain skinned fighter to grin wider.

Were those teeth, or fangs anyway?

Then, out of bloody nowhere, her teammate would erupt into action. "Action," he would shout as he snagged her and brought her close. Blood red eyes widened in surprise, her mouth agape to say some foul curse, and her right hand was being brought up as a fist. No doubt aimed to clock the man in the jaw as some sort of instinct. Yeah, you could say it was something of an interesting picture. Certainly not one that was at all flattering for her.

The blow wouldn't land, of course. The flash from the camera momentarily blinding the poor girl and causing her impromptu swing to falter, then stop. "The hell?" She'd ask, finally noticing the camera in Edward's outstretched hand. "You could have at at least gotten my good side." Sokoya would finally add, with a little indignation. Then, trout pout.

[Joseph Evan]

Location:
The Pub of Nine Swords (or just outside)

Since Joseph has no talent for scrying, he's not sure where he'll end up when he focuses on Gideon, and poofs there. He appears a few inches off the ground, large blue wings fluttering to keep him afloat as black optics scan the ground under him to make sure it's safe. Ah, just a nice normal place in Gaia. Good. He'd appeared a few feet behind Gideon, the man now watching his wolf as he partakes of one of those cursed cancer sticks.

The man isn't wearing much in the way of... clothes. There's a blue wrap around his hips, tied at the left hip, the material wisping down his legs to end a little after his knees. As he silently drops to the ground, the blue wings disappear. There's a full back tattoo of black feathered wings on his back, and an armband tattoo on each arm. On the left, ivy with little blue wildflowers. On the right, dark brown thorns with spatters of blood. There's green laurels in his hair, and sandals on his feet. His nipples are pierced, his navel is pierced, and there's three silver studs in each earlobe.

He walks up to Gideon, making enough noise about it to not be sneaky, not out to startle the man. He gives a pointed look to the cigarette. His face has sharp features that come together in a balanced fashion, over all. Black optics look from the Stick of Death to the man smoking it, a pale hand coming up to pull at his own black hair.

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

Sound of Wolf

Location:
The Pub of Nine Swords (or just outside)

Gideon had been walking for quiet sometime throughout the city of Gaia- till he hit the starting of what was this area known to be Sigil. Dark wine shaded orbs scanned over the cobblestone and almost archaic like architecture of the city. A bright blue brow would arch in question across his normally solemn tanned features. The man, or so he appeared to be physically, was a hard looking man of his late forties, his jaw chiseled and gruff - unshaven, yet not a full grown beard. His ethnicity almost resembling that of an Arabic nation more then anything else with his hard brow and distinct nose.

The man would be adorn in a business casual like attire, with open blazer jacket of striking red shades and matching tie. A black collared shirt, with black dress slacks would follow suit to his fashion- and yet based on his body build, it all seemed out of place for him to wear. Arms would bulge ever so slightly as elbows would bend, his chest pronounced and toned, his eyes sharp and keen to notice movement as they snapped to attention.

Strong boned digits would curl around the shaft of a cigarette, and press to the form of Gideon's lips as he took a long drag - the ember's flaring under the force of breath and smoke wreathing slowly around his visage through flared nostrils. Just one more before we go into this joint, and then we'll see what this area is all about.

:Outside of the Nine Swords Pub:

"Umm...Hello", as went many of the typical introduction from women of Gaia Prime, whom many of which still seemed to be stuck in the awkward tresses of puberty when it came to there shy exterior. She approached the business atired gentleman from his left flank, dressed like some kind of gothic lolita tartlet innocent all but the short black frilly skirt that revealed long slender legs covered in black panty hose. Her glowing red eyes were the product of obvious contacts and her vamperic looking fangs were as fake as much of the one of a kind artifacts that one could find in the grand bazaar. This spoke even more peculiarly towards what gaian men preferred from there women of the night. It would be difficult to determine if the girl was new, or if she was putting on a front of cute awkwardness.

"I'm lost could you help me find my home.", she said in a feyborn sing-song voice that sounded trained and mechanical.

[Sound of Wolf]

Joseph Evan

Location:
The Pub of Nine Swords (or just outside)

Since Joseph has no talent for scrying, he's not sure where he'll end up when he focuses on Gideon, and poofs there. He appears a few inches off the ground, large blue wings fluttering to keep him afloat as black optics scan the ground under him to make sure it's safe. Ah, just a nice normal place in Gaia. Good. He'd appeared a few feet behind Gideon, the man now watching his wolf as he partakes of one of those cursed cancer sticks.

The man isn't wearing much in the way of... clothes. There's a blue wrap around his hips, tied at the left hip, the material wisping down his legs to end a little after his knees. As he silently drops to the ground, the blue wings disappear. There's a full back tattoo of black feathered wings on his back, and an armband tattoo on each arm. On the left, ivy with little blue wildflowers. On the right, dark brown thorns with spatters of blood. There's green laurels in his hair, and sandals on his feet. His nipples are pierced, his navel is pierced, and there's three silver studs in each earlobe.

He walks up to Gideon, making enough noise about it to not be sneaky, not out to startle the man. He gives a pointed look to the cigarette. His face has sharp features that come together in a balanced fashion, over all. Black optics look from the Stick of Death to the man smoking it, a pale hand coming up to pull at his own black hair.

Tresondros Ecstuffuan

:Outside of the Nine Swords Pub:

"Umm...Hello", as went many of the typical introduction from women of Gaia Prime, whom many of which still seemed to be stuck in the awkward tresses of puberty when it came to there shy exterior. She approached the business atired gentleman from his left flank, dressed like some kind of gothic lolita tartlet innocent all but the short black frilly skirt that revealed long slender legs covered in black panty hose. Her glowing red eyes were the product of obvious contacts and her vamperic looking fangs were as fake as much of the one of a kind artifacts that one could find in the grand bazaar. This spoke even more peculiarly towards what gaian men preferred from there women of the night. It would be difficult to determine if the girl was new, or if she was putting on a front of cute awkwardness.

"I'm lost could you help me find my home.", she said in a feyborn sing-song voice that sounded trained and mechanical.

He would shift and turn on his heel as he heard the other approach him- the ground below crushing and shifting in the subtle sound as he moved in such a manner to view Joseph. Gideon gives a baffled look as wine optics widen slightly then to his own burning cigarette.

"Er.. hey baby." he gives a sheepish smile to the fae as lips twitch at the edges. Digits would release the burning matter behind as he used his heel to crush out the embers. It was a flicker of guilt that crossed his features as he broke his gaze from the ground back to view Joseph. A free hand smooths over the breast fold of his blazer, scanning to check over the red material.

As the woman, however approached him- it gave pause to his reaction to Joseph's appearance as he arches a sky brow inquisitively to the female.

"Lost? How so?" His tone holding no trace of an accent, but the words did hold the weight of.. experience, at best.


((EDITED to respond to Tresondros ))

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

OOC:

Thanks. Awaiting Joseph.

[Joseph Evan]

Location:
The Pub of Nine Swords (or just outside)

Distracted. This place isn't nice, and it isn't normal. Sure, the ground didn't give way when he landed, but the longer he stays here, the more it seems to creep him out. There's chaos here, from the feel of it, and it makes him wonder how people can stand such a place. Black optics look from Gideon to the buildings around them, as if he thought villains might pop out from the dark alleys and shank them. Joseph is a lover of the beautiful, of the orderly, of the easy flowing freedom that many places in Gaia give off. Like Carice's cafe, though evidently Kirky had decided it would be proper behavior to burn the place down. Just thinking about that puts a sour taste in his mouth.

It's not to say that Joseph doesn't like this place. It's just that it's new, and it looks like a place fighters would usually go to. Joseph knows it's his duty, his honor, to participate in the Arcadian wars, and to defend himself and others when the need comes. But fighting just for the sake of fighting? No, not sparring, but blood soaked bone breaking fighting? Not for him. Not for him in the least.

As he stands there, looking uneasy, a young lady approaches Gideon. Joseph puts on a friendly smile, but stands there quietly, letting them talk.

[Tres Ecstuffuan]

Propel The Spacecraft in the Pleiades

And those words of experience struck her mousy nature to the core. The subtle quiver in her soft delicate pale flesh gave off the frightened disposition that new and mostly unwilling prostitutes gave off. She didn't have any magical powers and she was not brave, and to be a human without even bravery in gaia prime was a bad position to be in. Worried about the rumors of slavery and the disappearances of those close to her forced kathorine to seek out the protection of a pimp, willing to serve in the oldest of duties in payment. Fairly or not she judged Gideon to be the non-gentle type that she was hoping to encounter and as soon as he asked her how was she lost she broke eye contact and looked to the ground saying, "Umm" with a painfully obvious lack of confidence.

Then suddenly something shook her from her from her moment of insecurity as a sound on the beaten path towards the opening to the Nine Swords drew her eye. She looked up to see a rather inconspicuous individual but there was something about him that superseeded his rather nonthreatening appearance. He was a bronze skinned man of average height and of latin descent. His curly messy black hair matched well with the unkempt stubble that covered his broad chin. His eyes seem locked forward in an unfocused lazy glare that seemed to look through the two individuals and the whore with a lack of regard that was in rare amongst the common majesty of the magical city of Sigil. His grey dingy looking trench coat covered in various stains from god knows where seemed to bolster his already disheveled looking appearance. If it were not for the overall normal stride he would have easily passed for a drunkard.




Andre stopped before getting within 5 feet of the trio and he would look at the Fey whore without any accusatory glare but once he got close he just seemed to give off this arbitrary aura of authority that seemed to cause the world to freeze as if the air itself held its breath. "You guys...Just hanging out?", Andre asked, letting his gaze drift lazily from the woman to the two men.

Dwell in the abyssal plane like the hordes of hades

[Sound of Wolf]

Andre would get the same solemn regard as he gave the vampire-esk whore. Pallid blue brows now relaxed in his features as he turned to face the other man, his head tilting to the side as loose strains fell to his brow in a dusting manner. Lips curled then relaxed before he would speak again, double crushing the cigarette again in the motion.

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Was walking around, and seemed to have found my way here." his breath draws out slowly, as if the dredges of his incomplete tobacco reminded him the need of the nicotine.

[Lykaios Theta]

{ Hope no one minds me joining in. Trying to get back into the swing of public RP. }

-> Guildhall Ward

Lifeless.
Lifeless.Empty.
The city's vibrancy faded as one traversed further from the market ward down into the dwellings of the Guildhall ward. Crumbling facades of buildings were dressed with the washed away standards of militia and men. These were the remaining testaments to the old days. These were the killing grounds, the treaty sites, the places where victory sung loudly her lyric of bravery and valor, and defeat wailed his dirge to the nations fallen.
Perhaps an echo remained of the desperation and bloodshed. Maybe the land itself remembered the adrenaline and battle lust that made this district prosper.
Or it could have been nothing at all that connected this abandoned war site to a land of unending battle, and only by chance the portal between worlds made its place in a rusted out refrigerator in one of the former campaign rooms of a half-decayed building.

-> Fridge; Former Site of The Steel Syndicate; Guildhall Ward

Shake
"...?"
Shake Shake
"What in the-?"
SLAM
"Ow!"
SLAM
"KHAEL, this isn't funny! Let me out!"

The door to the refrigerator suddenly swung open wide, the rusted hinges screaming in protest to the heavy weight pushing on it. The muffled sound of unintelligible language in a female voice was suddenly released from the oppressive contents of the emptied out fridge, and out stumbled a silver-haired woman swathed in heavy winter robes. The door squealed louder as Willow clung to it for support, only to have it fall out from under her grasp, the hinges not willing to take any more weight. Plopping to the floor with a rather heavy thud, the woman's pale visage was one of utter confusion. Her violet eyes looked about the vacant space of cement, noting the sparse features of a room obviously stripped of all valuable material. A naked light bulb flickered in the space above her head, illuminating a card table and several upturned rusted chairs. Broken needles and booze bottles littered the floor. This was not Naggaroth, and this was not the bloodied war room she had thought she had been walking into.
Again, she frailly called out.
"...Chresler?"
No reply.
The woman stood, and shifted bare feet upon the unforgiving cement.
[Insert some overly-cliche line from the Wizard of Oz here]

[Joseph Evan]

Location:
The Pub of Nine Swords (or just outside)

Seems to him that many women tend to dress in a flashy matter, and Joseph likes to think the best of a person if he can, so he doesn't have a clue she's a whore. He does, however, think she's lying about being lost, given her reply to Gideon. Maybe she just wants company. Well, now she has it. They're all just happily hanging out in front of a pub that's probably filled with drunks and guys that like to chop people up for giggles.

Oh s**t. Here comes one now. Joseph watches the man come out of the tavern, and the need for neatness and beautiful makes him itch as he stares at the man. If he could just... wash that coat. The scruff isn't so bad though. Some men pull it off nicely, but this particular man looks like a drunkard from it. Maybe even like a homeless person, if he had more beard. And then he speaks! Joseph isn't a coward, but little itches of cold trail up his spine.

That's the turning point for him in his judgment. Sensing something so... bad from the man, something he's just waiting to see revealed. That right there, is a bad, bad man. Joseph grins, watching him.