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| Now with more plot! |
| MOAR PLOT PLZ. |
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[ 12 ] |
| NO PLOT. MOAR FIGHTING! |
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[ 3 ] |
| Is my profile done yet? |
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| Total Votes : 24 |
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 Posted: Fri Aug 20, 2010 6:22 pm
Ethan immediately straightened himself and smiled. He found his team captain and didn't even have to look. This man, Gabriel, was definitely not your average brute. He had a brilliant confidence and sanity about him that seemed to make him a natural leader. He wasn't quick to fight and his manners were impeccable. All intimidation washed off of Ethan as he stared at this man. This person would make a valuable ally and possibly a friend.
"So you're Gabriel. I must admit, I'm impressed," He said with a friendly laugh, "I half expected you to be some kind of demon spawn. Very few actually no the relevance of the name Gabriel. Many believe it to have a negative connotation when really its quite the opposite. Gabriel was an angel sent from God in the Christian religion." Sensing he was off subject, Ethan tried to salvage his conversation.
"But I'm sure you already know that. It is your name. I'm Sorry. On my travels I spent a few years at a monastery, trying to find my path. I must at admit the thing that eventually ruined it for me was the women, " he laughed once more but much more heartily this time. "Anyway, It's a pleasure to me you, comrade," Ethan said extending his hand for a handshake.
"It seems like things are getting a little out of control around here. Its good to know I have someone to back me up in these...dangerous..times," Ethan said noting all the fuss that was happening around them. There certainly was a lot going on aboard this ship, but then again, it is full of the most mysterious characters in the world of the living; and the dead.
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Posted: Sat Aug 21, 2010 11:28 am
Despite all the excitement, all the talk, all the drama, Edward remained surprisingly still throughout the majority of the ferry ride. The cyberpunk leaned forward, resting his forearms on the top of the railing while peering through the spectacles of his horn-rimmed glasses at the water below. Unlike most people on the boat, Ed was dressed rather simply. A black hooded sweatshirt with the red heart and white skull logo that Alkaline Trio was known for covered his torso, and a pair of ratty blue jeans and black sneakers covered the rest. Most of his piercings were missing except for the large red plugs in his earlobes. Simple. You'd find about a dozen of him at almost any given 7 Seconds show. Of course, Gaia/Demon World shot that to s**t. While on Earth, Ed would look pretty normal. On Gaia, however, people thought it was normal behavior to walk around in a breastplate. It made Edward seem unique by comparison. <********. The second place winner of last year's Dark Tournament was totally and utterly conspicuous in this crowd. The last thing he needed was to get asked for an autograph. The cyborg was simply not in the mood. Ed tried to look boring, bobbing his head softly to the song playing in his head. But most importantly, paying almost no attention to anything or anyone while doing it.
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Posted: Sat Aug 21, 2010 4:18 pm
A small boy standing at approximately five feet four inches was leaning over the railing of the starboard side of the ship while all of the commotion about entrants and staging happened. The child, going by the unusual name of Ion was watching the waves of water being sliced through by the powerful bow of the ship. A small smile spread across his thin lips as he reminisced about other trips he had on a ship, usually as a stowaway on a wooden lifeboat hanging precariously over the side of the ship. How lucky he was, he thought to himself, that on this trip he could actually explore the upper levels of the ship! He would lift his head from his crossed arms that were resting on the railing and grin from ear to ear at the opportunity that had presented itself to him.
Ion would then stretch his arms out upwards as he yawned deeply from being entranced by the pattern of waves in the sea. Not until now had he noticed the lively ship behind him and all the commotion over Gaia and Spirit World. Now that he was fully awake and running on all cylinders, he would shrug off the external world and looked around for something to play with. Finding nothing he made do with what was around, the railing.
Soon there after, Clink, clink, clink. was heard as the boy climbed the soaked railing and moved towards the bow of the ship with arms spread open so as to balance himself. Happiness rushed through his being as he tilted his head back and started singing in the purest of voices to no one in particular.
"Singing our space songs on a spider web sitar
Life is around you and in you..."
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Posted: Sat Aug 21, 2010 4:50 pm
Quote: "Singing our space songs on a spider web sitar Life is around you and in you..." A light smile went across the face of a man standing within the crowd. He didn't feel a need to be too involved with the commotion, he would have no say in the matter one way or another. He diverted his attention from the other fighters to Ion, who had just approached him. The man was at a loss to determine if the boy was using irony or an honest, playful demeanor. "It's nice of you to join me", said Kuro to Ion. "What do you think of the situation over here?" He hoped his old rival would suffice more conversation than a normal twelve year old boy.
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Posted: Sun Aug 22, 2010 1:38 am
The minutes rolled by without much incident, lulling the Advocates into peace and relaxing their postures. The Devil remained unconvinced, however. There was a time bomb ticking down before the ferry imploded unto itself, and he would be ready to issue the order to put down a demonic uprising should there be one. Still, with relative peace abound, there was an opportunity to be taken advantage of, and he was certainly not one to let it slip on by unnoticed. Raising his head and turning it to the side, the Devil regarded his small contingent of men at arms and considered the wisdom of sending them out to gather information. After a few moments, he signaled Gideon, baiting the burly man to draw near.
"Gideon," the Devil murmured in a soft, casual tone as he turned to look back towards the sea. "Take the guard and bring me the woman who interrupted Kurama." Turning his head to look at the disgruntled Bellanox Fatalis, the Devil had determined that his personal bodyguard was better suited for doing her duly appointed job then going on an errand. Besides, Gideon was a lot nicer, and Roen was always the soul of courtesy. Speaking of which--"And Gideon," the Devil quipped. "Do be gentle."
Gideon saluted smartly before backing away from the Devil who had returned to his quiet musings. "All right," the large man said to the four Advocates who, unlike Bellanox and Gideon himself, chose to retain their respective helmets in lieu of their status as Redshirts. "We're going to find us a broad to elevate our dreary leader's disposition." Playful jeers were aplenty before they eventually quieted down. Humor, Gideon thought, was always a good way to break the ice. "Stay behind me, look professional, and--For Seer's Sake, John, I'm over here." One of the Advocates turned his head away from Bellanox to look at Gideon. The Gypsy had quite a few admirers in the ranks, as it were.
"Damn slack-jawed idiot." Sighing, Gideon shook his head and turned away from the small group, his hand gesturing in the air for them all to form up behind him. Two on one flank, two on the other, the group of five looked professional and held the thick airs of authority. The burly Gideon led them away from the prow and into the main group of confused and restless demons, each and every moving out of their path as was only proper. Embossed with the emblem that marked them as part of the Darkened Devil's personal army, the Advocate's black-enameled modern plate-armor commanded fear and respect. Coupled with their individual weapons and menacing gaits, the only sensible thing to do was to step out of their path.
It wasn't hard to find Mathilda on the deck. For one, she wasn't a malformed demon. Secondly, she was flanked by guards on her own. Gut instinct and intuition told Gideon that this was indeed the woman whom Roen had instructed to retrieve. The only problem was convincing her that it was worth her while to heed the Devil's request. Approaching the long-legged blond in a slower, more neutral gait, Gideon held up his fist to halt the advance of his men at several yards away and then proceeded to step closer on his own. Releasing his assault rifle and moving it comfortably away, Gideon proceeded to incline his head and bow awkwardly, the metal plates of his armor clinking with his formal movements.
Not one to beat about the bush and severely lacking the etiquette to properly do so, Gideon decided that it was best to just skip straight to the point and be blunt about things. Straightening, Gideon began to speak in a low, gravely voice. "Captain Gideon at your service, ma'am. My--" Just what the hell was Roen to him, anyway? Gideon searched his limited vocabulary for the proper word to say so he didn't come off sounding like a simpleton. "--liege requests a few moments of your time." Putting broad emphasis on the word request, it was imperative that Mathilda see this was an offer she had every right to decline. He simply hoped she wouldn't. The Advocates on his flanks and several feet behind him shifted uncomfortably in their boots, warily regarding the demons that looked on.
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Posted: Sun Aug 22, 2010 12:16 pm
As Kuro Tsuwamono well knew, Fasumbra Langardo was a troubled being. For all the greatness in his history, he had been shaped and molded by his childhood; and a black time it was for the Half-Elf. His father’s murder, his mother’s decent into madness…
…And he never shook the sensation that it was all, completely, his fault.
His fault that the villagers ravaged their home and lynched his father. His fault that the elvish children who abused his frail form were killed. His fault that his mother’s sanity snapped. His fault, his fault, HIS FAULT!
The thought plagued him. When it wasn’t crushing him emotionally, it was itching at the back of his mind, always the reminder that his happiness was not deserved.
“Why should you smile? Why be happy? You are a sinner, a criminal, a monster…” He spoke to himself, yet not, as if he sat upon the Great White Throne to admonish some low-life for their wrong doing.
The other side of him whimpered, audibly. There was no reply, as there never had been before. How could he defend himself? Try to justify what he had done?
“So wrong, so wrong…” He hugged his knees to his chest, vaguely recognizing that he was in his child form. But, then again, he always was. To himself, in his head, he was always that same young boy who ruined so many lives.
He clenched his hands on his shins, burying his face in his legs as best he could. The Darkness—that part of him that was always there to be a cynic, or to ridicule, to hate, to berate, to insult, to crush, to destroy, to mock—was creeping into him. The other side, the Light, hated the Darkness; but this was no morality tale or religious canon. The Light never beat the Darkness, ever; it was timid, fleeting, weak. It had been stunted in its infancy, along with the little happiness he had ever had.
Yggdrasil Syndrome. He knew what it was; his “gift”, the counter-balance to his bodily weakness. But then what? The vast power it gave him, the insight into the unseen, was more a curse than a gift. It was the reason he was still alive, which appealed only to the Light. It was his weapon, which appealed only to the Darkness.
“Weapon…Weapon! Yes, a weapon!” He spoke again, his words muffled behind his lithe legs. The Darkness liked that a lot. Weapons were good, weapons killed, they hurt, they made things worse for everyone. Everyone except-
“ME!” Fas raised his as he yelled the word, hearing it echo. Echo? Where was he again?
The Light started to panic, the child, the part of him that clung, that begged for the peace of normalcy. This wasn’t normal, it had no order, who doesn’t know where they are, what was going on, what, what-
“WHAT?! WHAT?!” Fas screamed, the echo sending it back to him. He held his head, clamping his mouth shut, no more, no more, no more sound, no more. He whimpered, low enough that there was no echo. His head hurt, it hurt, hurt, hurt…
Hurt like last time. Those kids, those elves—“ELVES!” he screamed—why did they hit him? What was wrong with him? Didn’t they understand, didn’t they know?
It was the same still, even now; this echo, just like his “gift”, every action of his disturbed everything else, no order, order, chaos. It was too much to take, too much to bear, he couldn’t speak, didn’t they understand, if he spoke—
“…I’ll hear me…I’ll hear me…”
And that was unforgivable. No, he couldn’t think of himself, he couldn’t acknowledge himself, he couldn’t say he lived, living was unforgivable, no, no, no—
“NO!” He screamed it again, echoing. Every time, no escape, no peace, over and over…
“Feeling sorry, sorry, sorry…Just for yourself. You killed them, KILLED THEM! You remember, right? And you…” His hands slowly came free from his golden hair, as he tilted his head back, staring upward…
“…You liked it. Every. Single. Time.” His face twitched slightly, a smile slowly forming. Darkness, Darkness, Darkness…
“More.”
The rasping word warped the area around him. There had been no area around him, that was the kicker, nothingness, nothingness. The Light liked nothingness; it was orderly, calm. But then, that echo, that damnable echo, how did it get there, where there was nothing?
“Mooooore…”
The word warped his surroundings even further, as visions of all his killing and violence played in his head. His head? Yes, that made sense, but was this a dream? Had he come here on purpose?
The Light kept trying, trying, to understand. There was nothing to understand. The Darkness was ruining, ruining everything. Peace and order were replaced by a desire for chaos and—
“BLOOD! BLOOD!” He screamed it, and it didn’t echo, didn’t echo, just made a sound, and he didn’t know it was him. Not me! Not me! N-
“NOT ME! NOT ME!” He screamed, smiling ear to ear, and he realized he was rocking, rocking, rocking, back and forth, back and forth, chaos, chaos, blood, BLOOD, BLOOD, DEATH—
KILL! KILL! KILL! Not his voice? He didn’t speak? He didn’t think? Didn’t think. Just kill. The Darkness was right; don’t think, just kill, just kill, kill, KILL, KILL KI-
PING!
And suddenly…peace. What?
“…What…What happened?”
And he was suddenly…awake? A ship? What was it called, a ferry? Yes, a ferry. He was faintly aware of the trigger that had gone off. His Mana Sense, the curse and gift of Yggdrasil Syndrome, informed him that it was his brother’s, the one he kept on Fas. Ah, yes, that one.
He was covered in sweat. Cold, cold sweat. He sat up slowly, realizing he was shaking horribly, his hands quaking, his guts convulsing. Convulsing? Ah, no, I’m going to…no, no, don’t! You’re fine now.
His hand was at his mouth, pointlessly, as it wouldn’t prevent him from being sick. That trigger of Kuro’s, however, would, and was. His body was slowly relaxing, coming back under his control. Well, as much control as he had over it. The Light may have been weak, but Kuro was not. The Darkness was held back, just so much, enough to keep it from warping Fas’ fragile mind any further than it already had.
The itch of bloodlust was slowly fading from his mind, becoming replaced with more humble desires. Like eating. Yes, some food would be nice now, now that he wasn’t feeling so sick anymore. Ah, how nice.
He slid from under the covers, bothering only to slide on his slippers, keeping his black-with-amethyst-stripes pajamas on. Ah, they felt nice, soft fabric against his skin. He recognized, fleetingly, that he was still in his adult form. But, he was always the same child, the same who hurt all those people, ruined so many li-
No, not really. Ah, it felt nice in the room. Maybe he should stay…no, food was something he needed.
A lot of it.
He opened the door and stepped out onto the deck, eyes lifting to the sky long enough to make him smile for no good reason. The sea, that smelled good, the cries of sea-birds like music. He smiled faintly still, even though he couldn’t think of where there might be food. Oh well. He’d have to find Kuro, Kuro was helpful, Kuro was always supportive.
Kuro, Kuro, Kuro. The thought of his brother made him more comfortable. Ah, and Ion too, Ion was here. He hadn’t been around Ion for a while, but he remembered him, remembered fighting, fighting FIGHTING—
Fighting? When had he fought Ion? He couldn’t remember, but that didn’t matter, no way. Instead, it would be better to find Kuro, and then they could go chow down, because he was hungry. He wondered about what kind of food they might have; was it breakfast time, or what? What might Kuro want to eat? He might not want to eat. He couldn’t remember if his brother needed to eat or not, and for that matter neither did he.
Why was he hungry? He couldn’t think of a reason, but he was, and the lack of logic didn’t bother him, no sir, because facts were facts and he was hungry.
Maybe he should surprise Kuro with breakfast. The thought made him stop in his tracks. He had been walking? He had been walking. He was at the nose of the ferry as it crashed through the waves, heading toward Hanging Neck Island. What were they going to do there? He couldn’t recall, but why was that? It was important, very much so, so why…
…Never mind. Surprise Kuro with food. He’d like that.
Fas chuckled at the thought, then went on trying to find food.
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 10:50 am
As Faustina skittered through the rustling crowd, ducking under and around both stray limbs and stray weapons alike, the young Devil came to stumble aside at the unintentional shove of a few demonic muscle heads, each snarling at whatever had them make way. Quick to recover her grounding, her scowling face shot up, about to squabble at the giant brutes, just as soon noticing who it was that had stirred the demons so. Father's Advocates? What are they doing...? Maybe Dad knows something?
Turning her gaze towards the front of the ship (she knew it had a name, but not the slightest clue what it was), she resumed her scrambling, this time with intent direction and the luxury of a cleared path, as rapidly dwindling as it was. Within just a few moments, she at last emerged from the sweaty, reeking mass that had gathered for the announcement, stumbling a few steps before again taking off, her pace somewhat hurried though of course not running--the fairy's personnel had warned that to do such was dangerous!
Her sandaled feet brought her swiftly around the giant thing between her and where her father stood, the light cloth of her orange scarf waving elegantly in the wind alongside her auburn hair. She slowed as she drew near, an innate shyness taking over her, particularly before his curvaceous companion. Not only did she not want to raise panic from the body guard, but also she had never been quite sure what to think about the two--indeed, even though Nox had expressed her absolute amusement at the idea, Faustina sooner doubted her father's resolve than trusted his body guard's claims.
As she drew within earshot of the Devil's melancholic stature, the young woman would ask in that gentle voice of hers, "...Dad? What's going on? Did something happen...?" Sweet as her vocals made her sound, she could not hold back the worry that clung to her words.
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 3:05 pm
"It's so cold."
Over on the far upper right side of the ship sat a young girl all huddled up, wearing a thick black jacket with a hood covering her head. She shivered and shook as the ship rocked back and forth in the ocean, heading towards the island that would be the battleground for the tournament.
Lydia hadn't been on a ship before, it was only due to good luck that she hadn't become sea sick. The continuous rocking of the boat made her feel drowsy, but the biting cold that always touched her kept her painfully awake.
"Why do I have to be tormented by the abyss...?"
A question to herself, something to keep her mind occupied by anything other than the everlasting chill. "This tournament, these creatures, abominations. Like me. Like my allies." Demons weren't an unfamiliar sight - Lydia had seen many of them, and things much worse, in the visions of Daimonas home and within his temples.
Horrific, man-eating abominations.
Much like her own team, she thought to herself.
"Hopefully they will ignore me."
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 3:43 pm
There was a thud on the side of the ferry. It was the sound of the large vessel colliding with something. Or something hitting it. Slowly the ferry tilted to it's side, not by much, but there was a difference as the thuds began again. Getting louder as they continued.
An odd hand wriggled itself over the side, grey with writhing tentacles clinging to the wood about them as another appeared. It was a painfully slow process, but the creature, in time, managed itself out of the water, plopping itself right next to the entity called Lydia. The rest of it's body wasn't as formed yet. Instead it was only a pulsing mess of bulbous sacks, oozing slime and mucous. Painstakingly yet, limbs began to take shape, first a leg, a torso, another leg until the creature stood. Everything seemed to have a strange line bisecting each extremity. Her pale, greying muscles seemed to move to their own accord under her translucent skin.
Tikal had arrived.
Rolling her supposed spine, Tikal snapped up her head into place, her features soon to follow development. Four eyes opened, one by one the two larger yellowed orbs rolled about as the two smaller ones below flickered open. All were already beginning to secrete an opaque liquid. Her mouth seemed to split where it formed, taking shape with no lips, only a line.
"Lydia."
A voice said clearly. It was not that of a man or woman's tone. It was Tikal trying to communicate, though, her mouth did not move.
"You are . . . the . . . entity Lydia. Am I . . Correct?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 4:10 pm
Abominations...
"You are correct, creature."
Tikal, as Daimonas had explained in a dream, was a being that dwelled deep below the surface of the ocean. A horrible thing that seemed to come from another dimension, the true stuff of nightmares. Lydia shook from the mere sight, quite terrified that this would be one of her teammates in the upcoming tournament.
Daimonas had done his very best to gather the most hideous monsters from across the farthest reaches of the planet, sticking them under Lydia's control for the duration of the tournament. For all intents and purposes, she was their master. Lydia could only ponder what it was that she had offered Tikal in exchange for her services - perhaps a sacrifice? Only the dark god himself knew that.
"And I can assume you are Tikal. I can only wonder why you wish to join this tournament?"
Perhaps this... monster... merely wanted to devour those that it came upon? Lydia positioned herself slightly farther away from the sea-creature, as to avoid getting drenched in god-only-knows what that was oozing from every orifice and pore on the things body.
Before pleasantries could be properly exchanged, however, a small band of demons began to approach. Oddly shaped humanoids with many horns and eyes and razor sharp fangs and claws, wearing only tattered clothing. They did not appear to be with any particular team, maybe simple spectators from demon world.
What could they want?
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 4:40 pm
"Nagroth'Tikalghlarath. But Tikal . . . Is acceptable."
Her eyes fell upon the creatures approaching. She showed no emotion, she simply stared.
"You called . . . me from my . . . home." She didn't bother addressing that voice was not Lydia's. However, she knew where it resided. "The . . . power intruded me."
Keeping the ground where she stood, Tikal did not waiver. The demons were weak. And worst of all.. Clothed.
"Lydia . . . You are . . . cold? It is . . Hot."
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 4:57 pm
Lydia didn't even attempt to pronounce Tikal's full name for fear of her head exploding. Instead she nodded her head and then turned her gaze upon their approaching demonic company. They smelled like the air after a rain, musty, hot and dense. Lydia's nose twitched and she attempted to prevent herself from shivering and appearing weak before the creatures.
Perhaps it seemed rude to ignore Tikal's inquiry, but right now these demons had her full attention. She spoke softly, "Yes?" Her words lacked life or enthusiasm, keeping a cold monotone. She had hoped that her teammates frightful appearance would keep these things away, but it only seemed to draw them in.
Grunts and growls were exchanged before their 'leader' approached, getting a bit too close. Lydia stood up and backed up against the ship's railing, her arms crossing her chest. She did not feel up to a confrontation right now - her stiff and cold limbs wouldn't allow her to move fast enough against the sinister, oppressive force these demons likely possessed.
So she thought fast and creatively, without really considering if it would be offense.
"Tikal... would you eat them please?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 5:25 pm
A low rumble came from Tikal's abdomen as she heard the preposition. Clicking her jaw wide open, a mess of tentacles struggled their way out of her mouth, dropping to the ground and recoiling as the demons neared. Arching forward, Tikal spit out the tendrils, ensnaring each of the demons heads and necks. They struggled greatly, but it was all just pleasure to see her meal fight back.
They didn't stand a chance. Tikal was hungry.
Slurping in her tentacles, the demons slide along with them, trying to dig their heels into the s**t. With no luck. As soon as they were within arms reach, Tikal widened her maw greatly, showing hundreds of thousands of teeth and ichor drooling out the sides. Dragging the demons by the face one by one, Tikal ripped them apart, limb by limb before eating the meat. Soon ingesting the herd itself. Collapsing her jaw before snapping it closed, a single tentacle slithered out and licked up any biomass left on her body.
" . . . . Decent."
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 5:42 pm
Lydia vomited over the side of the boat. What a sight that had been to behold, with a smell that surpassed even that! Once she was finished, she wiped her mouth and slid back down into a sitting position.
"... remind me not to make you angry."
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Posted: Mon Aug 23, 2010 5:54 pm
Tikal finally turned to Lydia as she spewed over the keel. She was intrigued. Vomiting wasn't uncommon, by why Lydia did it perplexed her.
"Why did you empty out your . . . Digestive Sack . . . Lydia."
Her four eyes were focused on Lydia it seemed, though, Lydia might have felt them staring past her. Tikal was a nasty sight to see, but she had no reason to harm her teammate.
"You are . . Safe? Until . . . Fighting. Only then will . . . danger come."
Bubbles rippled under Tikal's skin.
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