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 Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 2:21 pm
The death knight smirked as the djinn chased off the remaining wannabes and settled into the hot tub beside her. She raised her head to look at him curiously, noticing that he was looking everywhere but certainly not meeting her gaze. She let him; simply looking was fine. If anything, she arched her back a little subconsciously, to emphasize her bust. Distraction was far too easy with men.
Still, he was clearly no average yahoo here to hit on her, and this at least garnered a modicum of respect. She returned his greeting with an indirect one of her own.
"Spellcaster? Indeed. I can turn heads without even trying." She chuckled at this lightly, her voice a mix of elven lilt and otherworldy reverb. It was beautiful and also highly unsettling to most. "My name is Aetyra. Some call me the Void Rose."
Eyeing the other woman who seated herself across from her with an equal interest, the death knight turned to her and nodded in greeting. She motioned abstractly at Cale, using her to poke a little fun at Marx, take him down a notch.
"Now, she looks like a fighter. You're just a pretty boy with a sword, eh?" She poked at his bicep with a long finger. "I bet I bench more than you."
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 3:16 pm
Marx ignored the other woman for now. Her features were nowheren ear as entrancing as the elven woman's was. He caught her name, a point for him. Aetrya. It was unique, much like his own.He liked this woman more and more. Stacked with muscle and supple flesh, the warrior queen of a woman seemed almost hypnotic to the Djinn.
He raised an eyebrow at the woman's jest. Pretty boy with a sword? Oh, he was so much more. He was a veritable deity in some lands, and mere whispered legend in others. A djinn, a living and free one that is, was a rare and unique creature, powerful, and charming. They could shape each feature of their body in any way they wished upon their release, and MArx was more than happy with this own.
Marx gave a wink to the Death Knight, a smirk gracing his thin lips. " Don't count me out just because I have a nice face. " He retorted, before glancing over to the other woman. Her arms were strong, strung with muscle, and a face that was probably beautiful once upon a time. Djinn had the wonderful ability to not scar; healing wounds cleanly with carious spells, and the magic that made their bodies solid. " We Djinn are much stronger than we appear at first glance. " As if to show this off, the man lightly flexed the shoulder and upper bicep that rose above the water. He wasn't nearly as stacked with muscle, but it was obvious the muscle he did have was defined to the point of making it bulge grotesquely when he did flex. The muscle returned to normal a moment later.
Marx shot his glance over to Aetrya again, still wearing the smirk. " You think I'm pretty? How kind. " He replied, with a faint lisp on his letters for extra effect. His own jest, not as cutting as the other's, but nevertheless his own.
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 3:35 pm
Lounging in the water across from Aetrya and the white-haired djinn, Cale found herself grinning. The boy put on a cocky face, but she bet he was panting after that night elf like a lovestruck puppy. Or, well, luststruck perhaps.
She didn't have a problem inserting herself into the conversation, particularly when the other woman compared Cale to a fighter. She hit the nail spot on, of course.
"Ooh, are we going to have a bench pressing competition? How cute that would be."
While Cale was attractive in her own, athletic kind of way, she was used to being overshadowed by sexier women. She really didn't mind, actually, because she didn't like constantly drawing that kind of attention. With her firm muscles and somewhat broad shoulders, Cale's build generally appealed to men with a particular taste for athletic women.
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 4:19 pm
A djinn? The faint hint of an eyesmile crept into Aetyra's features as she watched Marx flex his muscle. In her experience, they were tremendously proud and vain; it was small surprise to her that he had immediately tried to show off, male nature notwithstanding.
Though toned herself, her own strength was not so readily apparent. She bit her lip at him suggestively and flipped her hair over her shoulder, content to let him feel confident in his superiority.
"Just stating a fact, hun. Definitely a cut above these mortals." She winked at him, and then addressed her next question to both him and Cale, knowing that dividing her attention away from him would make him try harder.
"So, what brings you two here, to the tournament?"
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 4:58 pm
"I think it is time for me to have a drink, shall we head for the bar?" Kuro looked to the two 'bodyguards' as they glanced up from their reading material and stood. "Sure, lets get drunk and get into a brawl! Fighting place, that means we get to brawl!" Hoon said in reply as he cracked his knuckles and cracked his neck in several places. Ciyn only replied to the embarrassing dragon with a roll of his eyes as he grabbed his belt of weapons and slipped it on. "Just stay out of trouble for once okay? We might as well treat this as a small vacation while we are here."
Slowly, Kuro placed the thick robes over his body as his hands slipped into thick, white gloves which breathed about as well as a ziploc bag. He was requested during the tournament to refrain from touching any of the contestants, for fear of stripping them of their powers. It was a reasonable request to be asked of him but... the clothes. The clothes were heavy, hot, and cumbersome. In a winter environment he would be right at home, but in the hotel he was already a bit sweaty as he finished dressing into his evening attire. The long sword slipped onto his belt with ease as he patted the handle and looked to the other two. "Lead the way, gentlemen."
They entered the bar as Kuro scanned the room. "Go find a table, I need some alone time." was all he said to the two dragons as he moved to the bar itself, sitting down next to Darius. He signaled to the barkeep with his hand as he said with a bit of a smile on his face, "Whiskey, hold the ice, warm." the signaling hand would retreat briefly into the sleeve of the robe as it returned with a small gold piece, which he set on the counter in front of him. Curiously, she picked it up and looked it over before shrugging and placing it in her tip pile before going to fetch his drink.
Sitting across from one another, the two dragons looked around the bar area as they sat in their chairs facing away from one another. Ciyn waved over a waitress as he placed his order of a Gin, while Hoon was too busy taking his fingers and making flicking motions at the waitress, causing her dress to kick a bit to the right as his small psionic gusts blew by her. He let out a schoolyard giggle, enjoying the spectacle as the waitress shot him a dirty look and left the table to get the drink. Satisfied, he turned and looked to Ciyn as he sat at the table properly.Ciyn looked at him directly and said in a dead pan voice "I have no qualms taking you out right here, right now." finishing his sentence, was a snap of his fingers under the table as suddenly Hoon scooted back, looking down to see his pants completely soaked as water ran out of the legs a bit. Ciyn busted out in a mischievous laughter as he clapped at the spectacle "What's wrong Hoon, dislike having your clothes messed with while you work?"
Hoon looked at the Brass Dragon and sneered, his teeth keeping a similar profile of his normal form. With a bit of a growl his reply was inhumanly deep "Watch your step Ciyn, sleep with one eye open".
"Met them in the elevator, don't know em." Kuro replied to the bouncer who had approached him, asking about the two at the table causing a bit of a situation.
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 5:28 pm
Thurgood and Aveline had been able to get all of their belongings into their room: not just their clothes, weapons, and Thurgood's armbands, but also the 112 gallons of moonshine brandy they had just run about a couple days ago, of course in secret. they're not here to sell it, but it's part of their preparations for the tournament. With sugar water and fruit juices, they stretched the 112 gallons out to 120, but more importantly take the burn out of the 187 to 198 proof brandy. Their plan is to serve it to the other competitors, give them a taste for it, and the night before the first round, really encourage them to drink lots of it. If it works, the competitor that Thurgood faces in the first round will be either way too drunk to fight effectively, even after a long sleep, or have such a bad hangover that it has just about the same performance retarding effect.
Of course, now it's time to put the plan in action. With a glass bottle with a pour spout, and a few shot glasses, the siblings head out to the pool area and spread out. It really helps that Thurgood doesn't look like a competitor, especially with his left arm in a sling, and Aveline actually isn't.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 2:42 am
"Trou de cul ne sait pas nager"(a*****e can't swim)
A voice muttered in a thick French accent. A lone figure lay on one of the seats surrounding the pool covered in a thick smoke. A long drag heaved from the figure's thick and bare chest as a the tip of a hand-made mahogany shisha pipe danced around the tip of the tongue. The masked figure lay with his body bare, but his face still covered by a thick guise, portraying the hero of the Gunpowder Plot. Inside the mouth slit lay the tendril of the pipe supplying the incense of burning tobacco into his lungs. His face was covered near flawlessly by the mask, covering his wandering eyes that observed the passerby's movements.
These were kids, nothing more, nothing less. So far the real threat's lay with those who were either resting for what was to come or those drinking. Why would that be the case? Well, that is for you, my reader, to find out. As for our hero, he would continue his smoking as he rest underneath his blanket in the night sky...
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 7:35 am
Ooh, she knew how to play that game. The lip bite was just hot, but the flip of her hair added something sultry to the mix. " You aren't too bad yourself, wench. " Marx remarked, with another glance up and down her body.
The Djinn turned to the one known as Cale. Once again, the quick look over of her features was somewhat appealing. If only it weren't for the scar, and if she had a bit more flesh where flesh could be, Marx would have been drooling over her like he was over Aetrya. He wore the classic smirk. " Bench pressing doesn't give away all the precursors of one's strength. We'd need a competition on a grand scale to test that. " He gave a wink, obviously alluding to the contest all three were entered in.
As if reading his mind, the next question out of the busty knight dealt with the competition itself. Why were they there? Such a complex question. Some people might be there for the money, others for the glory. Still, others would be there for other reasons, crazy reasons, possibly even blackmail. " I don't know about the rest of these lugs, but I'm here for the fun of it. " Marx raised his arms out of the water, and set them behind his head. He leaned back slightly, while still keeping his gaze downcast in order to stare, and stare. " What can I say. The fun of a good battle is like an addiction. And who doesn't enjoy the coin that comes with? " Another wink, and the man wiggled a bit to get more comfortable in the shaped seat.
He cocked an eyebrow towards the woman, lifting the edge of his mouth as if about to giggle. " What about you? Why would a woman like you risk such nice skin for a tournament like this one? "
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 9:52 am
Aetyra's eyes flashed dangerously violet for a moment, taken aback by the white-haired man's offhand chauvinism. She frowned, suddenly only half paying attention to his words. It was one thing to flirt, or even stare shamelessly, but that did not mean it was okay to talk down to her.
Crossing her arms underneath her chest, she turned to face him, her coyness vanishing abruptly, to be replaced by tangible venom. "Well, I just added a new reason to the list: rearrange the entrails of a cocky white haired b*****d so that the s**t comes out the correct orifice. If you value your life, you'll not refer to me in that way again."
Her posture, her eyes, her words dared him to contradict her.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 10:21 am
The sporadic hum of a 15-year old Dodge Durango backfiring could be heard coming from the forest outside the pool area, along with the rhythmic thud of falling timber.
After about seven minutes of this melodic masterpiece, the burly man had reached the fence of the pool, anyone looking behind him would have expected a team of loggers stashed away in his back pocket, for every tree in a line as far as the eye could see had been cut down, split, and neatly piled into rows ready to be used as firewood. The gate though, was made of stone not wood, so it would not be as easily chopped and sorted as the trees were. A loud slamming would be heard as the man gave his first punch into the wall, after the second punch a loud audible shout.
After a few minutes of silence, a large millstone crashed through the stone wall, and rolled into the pool. The man smiled as he made a mental note that his large millstone was parked in the deep end. After eyeing all the shocked people wearing almost nothing, he shouted.
"By PELOR'S HOLY STAFF! Put on some clothes people!" An ironic statement coming from the man in nothing other than brown overalls, black boots, and a black bow-tie.
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Eloquent Conversationalist
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 11:02 am
Upon hearing Aetyra's question, Cale shrugged her shoulders, leaning her head back and reclining with her elbows resting on the ledge of the hot tub behind her.
"I guess I'm with pretty boy here, I'm in it for fun mostly. It's a challenge, and a good chance to test my own strength against different kinds of fighters."
She seemed pretty laid-back, and not even all that competitive toward her fellow tournament entrants. She really was just in it for the kicks, and for the chance to try something new.
Cale did look pretty amused by the ongoing interaction between the Djinn and the night elf though. She raised a brow speculatively when he went so far as to call the warrior woman a wench, wondering exactly how she would respond to that.
She wasn't disappointed.
Cale let out a bawl of full-throated laughter at the beautiful turn of phrase when Aetyra told off the playboy Djinn. She appreciated a good insult, and that one had particularly wonderful imagery. And to top it all off, the night elf's steely threat was immediately followed up by the ravings of some lunatic on the other side of the fence and the smashing of... a gigantic millstone ripping through the fence and rolling off into the pool.
Still laughing her a** off, Cale lifted herself from the hot tub.
"Well then... that's... a thing. That happened."
Chuckling, she simply made her way over to the not-at-all suspicious complimentary beverages being laid out and helped herself. If the booze was free, she felt no compunctions against drinking herself completely under the table.
"Oh god, I can tell I'm going to love this tournament. Is that free booze? Even better."
Life was good.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 3:01 pm
Christopher Hume
Concerning anyone down in the lobby or there about.
Location: On route....
Status: ......
The conversation the night before had left him with a dry taste in his mouth, and a sense of no control. He had sat in the room all night during the guard changes and simply stared at the wall. Sleep would never come too him while he was here, it barely did when he was a free man.
The minutes had ticked away like hours and in his drowned mental state he could easily lose himself in thought. However it was the opening of the door that snapped him to realty. He had timed every shift change for the men watching him and they were like clock work, top notch pros. But this was in the middle of a shift and as he glanced up his eyes fell upon the man in the suit. The young man gave him a long and solid stare, a gentle sigh then motioned for him to stand. He sat for a brief moment before finally getting up and nodding, following him out of the room. On cue all four men raised their weapons and converged on him, escorting him down to the lobby.
Meanwhile down in the lobby!
What had been a press field day had quickly turned into a mysterious fiasco. As the press interviewed several fighters and sponsors, trying to get the fresh new details of the tournament, a squad of men armed with guns and badges stormed the lobby. They cleared the people from the center, informing the public that it was only standard procedure. It didn't take a genius to know standard procedure didn't call for 20 men armed for war.
In perfect sync the elevator opened and all eyes converged onto the scene. What transpired was a slow walk of shame as all guns turned and trained on the single massive individual. Christopher was shackled by his feet and hands with two men on each side packing shotguns. The rest carried varies fire power but all of it was in his general direction. The public news crew turned on the camera and reported the story.
The Prisoner, as he was being called, was now on the public news. A mysterious fighter identified as Christopher Hume was to compete in the tournament under control of a foreign government in hopes of raising money for a charity. Christopher was ID as a Murderer and Rapist with more then enough counts of both crimes to put him away for life.
So why was he competing? As the 6'6" behemoth of a man was escorted through the lobby a small man in a suit stopped to explain to one of the reporters. He mentioned that the Government wanted to try out a new program with violent criminals, letting them compete in such private tournaments in order to do some good with them before execution. A public display of sorts that was a message, that condemned men could fight for their freedom and learn the value of their crimes. On the plus side who didn't like seeing a convicted criminal get the hell beat out of him for his crimes. Plus the money paid to see the fights would help raise charity for the victims.
All of his stats were given, height and weight, fighting class, styles, even his most recent crimes. None of it was real of course, but no one in the world but him would know or care.
And so as his bad guy story was spun the lobby began to boo him, some throwing soda cans as he was marched through the lobby and out into the front where he was stuffed into a black SUV, and driven off to holding until he got to compete......
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 4:11 pm
Instigating the calm and collected psion would prove futile, although to a small extent he could sense the negativity buried within him without the need to read anybody language. Proud wouldn't necessarily be the word to describe the scar blemishing his form, instead it would be a fun reminder of an intense fight and a deity's failed attempt at eliminating him as he sought out to do. Peripheral vision confirmed his exit, granted his little comment was enough to tie everything together. A perverse grimace was painted onto his scarred face, looking forward to either knocking his smug a** out or watching another perform the public service.
" Remember to swallow when given the d**k. "
Pleasantries would be extinguished for now, leaving more time for insults for later. In the meanwhile the area started to get swamped with other people, likely combatants for this tournament. Even the peculiar brawler found his eyebrow arching in bewilderment over the appearance of two dragons, often a sight that would belong at a wizard's tower or lurking in their territory. This scene was a little too comical for his taste, prepared to duke it out if required. Maybe temporary cold turkey off the serious drugs left him on edge. Eying the person with white hair and seeing others with it, Darius did what he did best; socialize in the most savage way imagined.
" Do all you ******** white haired people stay in a flock? Maybe its just a horrible coincidence but its all I see. Also do you really need the dragons with you?"
He was observant enough to recognize guard duty, especially based on how they were positioned seating wise. Only important people of status would have such extravagant creatures like these protecting him. Maybe this man actually obtained that hair color via aging however, people with silver-white hair became enough of a frequent occurrence that it started to alienate him. Before he could address the dragons, someone stole the spotlight by crashing through the wall of the resort. Yep this was definitely was the tournament season with all the crazy people entering out of the wood works.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 4:20 pm
Shin~The ladle monster!
Chuckling, she simply made her way over to the not-at-all suspicious complimentary beverages being laid out and helped herself. If the booze was free, she felt no compunctions against drinking herself completely under the table.
"Oh god, I can tell I'm going to love this tournament. Is that free booze? Even better."
Life was good.As Cale takes one of the plastic shot glasses full of strong moonshine brandy from Thurgood, he smiles. "Yeah; totally free through my own generosity." Generosity my a**; even though the only real poison in the shine is ethanol (with maybe about a part-per-ten-trillion of methanol, acetone, sodium hydroxide, and copper compounds from the still plumbing), it's the very poison he wants to deliver to the other competitors to impair them, and at 90% of its volume, the booze would deliver a lot of it. It's been quite clear to Thurgood that the only way he'll do anybody any damage in this tournament is by using his brain as much as he can. When Cale drinks the hootch, she'l notice immediately that it burns like Everclear 190, gets sweet and appley, then finishes with notes of pear, peach, kiwi, and more apple: the fruits the brandy was made from. As for the dude that crashed through the wall, rolled a millstone into the pool while shouting the names of dieties from Dungeons and Dragons, Thurgood doesn't want to look, and he is wearing clothes: the same type of black tee and gray jeans he always does.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 4:20 pm
It did not take long before men in black suits walked toward the scene, aka the security of the hotel. They came to a stop around the man and his millstone, looking toward the damage then up to the man who was ontop of the farm machination. "Sir, you are in violation for causing damage to the premises. Please come down from there and come with us."
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