He turned his eyes away from Phoenix's admiring glance because he'd done absolutely nothing to earn it. It wasn't real, whatever it was he'd just done, and he knew it because the idea of viewing Jordan as some sort of brother-in-arms turned his stomach. The obvious appreciation on her face (and god, how much he'd have loved to have seen it there truly earned; how weak his knees might have gone if he'd deserved that look on that face) brought nothing but shame, edging out the relief that this other-life, at least, had not been a wrenching view of the things he'd given up before, of all the ways he'd failed.
(It was a failure, but it was not the right kind. He saw it only as a failure of his duties as a hunter, of his skillsets that put him into Death rather than Moon, of his broken, inept body. The true failure of it--the genuine illustration of his shortcomings that the dream had hinted at when he'd put his hand on Jordan's shoulder--never occurred to him as a failure at all.)
He deflected attention away from the harmless and pointless aside that the dream had been, glancing at k1ng. "What did I miss? Also way to go getting your s**t done before me and then inviting me over so you can ******** spectate. I see your marriage vows," he added with airy sarcasm to Phoenix, "mean just as little as all those rings suggest they do."
MY STATS
My character's username: The Waxwing Slain My character's level: 26 Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: Current Guild: Location: Small IC description of character: Waxwing fits neatly into the "attractively weatherbeaten highwayman" archetype: rough brown hair falling a bit longer than his coarsely-stubbled jaw, a rakish scar across one brow, a lean and wiry build,and a general bearing of ne'er-do-well garnished with an unimpressed, "been there, done that" stare from dark, deep-set eyes. A pair of dark stag's antlers finish the carefully-constructed suggestion of a barely-tamed animal.
Whose face was very like a crow, With eyes, like cinders, all aglow, Who seemed distracted with his woe--
k1ng watched, disoriented. This meant that Phoenix had seen everything, had witnessed and experienced exactly what he had, as a silent observer.
The vision was swirled and vague: a future without Rep, it looked like, because his blonds were alone with the likes of Taym and a newbie, and he chewed on a fingernail as he watched, a silent non-participant.
"Don't be a b***h to our wife," he quipped, "even if she's sort of a bossy b***h. "She got to see you gut me like a little fishy, so don't feel too bad. Probably better that you missed that s**t."
OOC
My character's username: k1ng My character's level: 40 Character's HP: 40 Current Guild: Small IC description of character: k1ng is a tiny, quiet Dormouse. At five foot nothing, his large mouse ears and demonic horns dwarf his head, and behind him are a pair of white wings. Right now, he shuffles docilely without much protest.
The first vision may have rattled her just a bit, but she felt like having another. Just to see. Surely it could show her more things? And just what was it showing her? The future? A chance future? A dream? There was only one way to find out.
She filled her cup again, slowly lifted it to her lips, and then took another sip.
She was running. Physically running, her feet taking her as fast as they could down the alley. She’d been found, found and nearly caught. Luck had saved her, so far, and she hoped it would not forsake her now.
Down the alley, over a fence, around a corner, over another fence. The second one was tall and brick- it slowed her down. She hit the ground with a soft sound, and continued running. It looked like the parking lot of an apartment complex. Windows, all the same lined up in rows and columns. Some were lit, others dark. It reminded her of home and she cursed. She didn’t have time to be sentimental.
The dorms were gone. The whole damn island was gone. How long had it been? Too long, for sure. She missed it. The bad food, training grounds, her bed, her coat. She missed it all. She missed everyone.
She heard the roar behind her, the sound of hooves on asphalt. Horsemen. They weren’t supposed to be here, they weren’t supposed to find them.
If she could ditch them, maybe she could reach the extraction point. That would only help is someone were actually monitoring the portals, but they were so short staffed it was possible they weren’t. No one expected anyone in this district to check in for another three days. She was sure the others were dead.
Too many losses. Too many more, and the war would be lost.
Waffleberry shivered.
MY STATS
My character's username: Waffleberry My character's level: 45 Character's HP: 40/40 Character's Job Class: White Rabbit Herald Current party: -- Current Guild: Vicioius Streak Location: Red Queen's Castle Small IC description of character: White rabbit with blonde hair~ red dress with white accessories. Super cute and happy. Character journal:Battle Log
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 5:36 pm
"Boss b***h, you mean," she gave k1ng an affectionate look and then nodded, attention sliding to Slain. "It wasn't pretty, and wasn't anything anybody needs to relive." Here or anywhere.
Her eyes flickered to the pool and then away as she admitted, "I haven't yet." For a moment, Phoenix was uncharacteristically hesistant. She had seen a future, and there was a little room she longed to return to. A story she needed to finish. Going back would just barely be more terrible than being disappointed. Sharing it was unthinkable.
The uncertainty lasted only a moment, just long enough to recognize the fear that accompanied this fresh, foriegn want. "Guess I should," she steeled herself as she lifted the drink. "Fair's fair an all."
lizbot Vice Captain
No Faun
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lizbot rolled 1 10-sided dice:
10Total: 10 (1-10)
lizbot Vice Captain
No Faun
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Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 5:39 pm
Drank
lizbot rolled 1 10-sided dice:
8Total: 8 (1-10)
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 5:52 pm
pool vision
It was the Sahara again, because of course it was. America glared into the horizon, taller and tanner. She was a series of strong, slender lines from her braid, to muscle, to the inked illustrations that snaked and peeked around her limbs. Some were because she'd wanted them, other were hidden braille, as he sometimes liked to taunt. Ahead, the rest of the retrieval squad were getting ready to leave, but something had caught her attention earlier, not quite a trail, but enough for intuition to lock onto. They said an hour, and it'd be enough to check. There was one body missing, and she needed to find it, make sure for herself.
The odd shift in the sand, the way her center became off balance did indeed lead her down an invisible path that in turn led her to a shadowed entrance, hidden at the base of a rock formation. At this point she should call for back-up, but she'd do better without someone less skilled fumbling through, needing to be babysat around the inevitable tricks and traps. Besides, this was a personal matter.
America's runic torch flared in the darkness, illuminating the finely detailed carvings of a typical temple cave system, intricate designs created by tiny bodies crawling well-worn paths through the millenia. Following his trail was easier here, nothing human had walked here in ages, and he was very obviously injured. A smile graced her features as she noted the blood. Not fresh, but recent enough. Eventually she found him in pit, body broken in the debris, and looking more doll-like than even as he stared up to her. Expression blank and considering.
"Well, well, well, look what we have here," America drawled with a grin.
He pulled out Jan to greet her, though pain and dehydration had ******** over any of the false sincerity he was usually imbued with, "Howdy missy America. Ah knew it would be you. The spirits must've led you right to me." And his voice held the same acceptance she felt, because of course it was her. The minutes that followed ticked away in silence as the two regarded each other.
"You know, you'll die a lot quicker an easier if toss your totem up."
"Ah wouldn't have to die at all if you'd toss your pendant down."
Another long silence.
"And why on earth would I do such a thing as that?"
And his answers were many, because he often gave her truths. Gifts as he liked to call them. As he spoke, Jan slowly bled out of his voice, blank apathy filtering in, turning it into a laundry list that matched the expression on his face. He didn't beg so much as gift her with his own equivalent of such. "You claim to be a good person. This is the job you have signed up for. You have enough strikes against you. Everyone knows our fates are intertwined. I transform you." A pause. "You'll miss me."
She cocked her head considering, but didn't argue or answer.
"Jag älskar dig," in a voice from back long ago, from a game that was just a small section of a larger board.
"Nakama are forever," Peyton's voice, eerily accurate despite the parched hoarseness.
"b***h, stop playing around and get me the ******** out," Leslie's, and that sat even more strangely when matched to the man speaking.
America smiled down at him, amusement clear, and made no motion to help even as he continued to play the part of all the people she knew and was fond of. He was her man with 1000 faces, and he could be anyone she wanted, just as long as he was alive to do so.
"America," Taym's nasal tones, Georgia edging in.
She stopped smiling.
"Ya tebya lyublyu." Konstantin.
She turned a livid white under tan and sunburn.
"Meri, please don't leave me." And that was a voice he shouldn't know. Couldn't know. "P-please."
"YOU SHUT THE ******** UP!" It took several moments to realize she was on her knees, gripping the edge of the pit, knuckles white and shaking as she leaned over. "DON'T YOU ******** DARE!"
He watched her with a sort of impassive satisfaction, and she hated that once again, she'd been drawn into his bullshit. Tricked into giving him what he wanted yet again.
"Will you rescue me?" And it was Lawrence, fully himself that asked. Curious but distant, now.
Standing up, she dusted off her pants and and gave him a grin full of bright, vicious rage. "Naw, honey. I think I'm gonna let the ******** spirits guide you out." She turned around and began making her way to the entrance. In the back of her mind she'd already begun making plans for the next trip, it'd help allay any suspicions if she and a witness brought back the tablet.
As the vision faded, America gave the pool a nonplussed look. "Well that was certainly a thing." Did she seem a bit more cheerful, now? Was she bouncing slightly on her toes with renewed energy?
lizbot Vice Captain
No Faun
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ramenli rolled 1 10-sided dice:
1Total: 1 (1-10)
ramenli
Alarming Consumer
Offline
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 7:12 pm
The words Drink Me caught her eye, and Ra.One was only too happy to comply. Sure, sometimes not so good things happened when consuming things in this world, but nothing truly devastating.
The dream came on her quickly, and withing seconds a scene was before her eyes. She was looking down, looking down to see a sword tip coming out of her stomach. A sword with glowing runes. Rising her eyes she could see the monsters slow down, smirking and then calling out to the hunter behind her. Her partner. Everything seemed to be fading, and she could hear nothing until there was warm breath at her ear, a single focal point. "Sorry love, it wasn't personal you know."
With a gasp she awoke.
MY STATS
My character's username: Ra.One My character's level: 24 -> 27 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Dormouse Current party: N/A Current Guild: N/A Location: Zone 1 Small IC description of character: A diva. She's wearing a white coat and the orange/yellow option for clothing. Her hair is normally down or in a braid. Character journal:Here
Sap, Curious, returned to the looking pool. Another drink... Another glimpse of her future... What would it bring?
---
She hadn't thought that she'd like the fire demon when she'd first met him. He was so different in person than online, but all it had taken was persistence. She'd been desperate enough, and he'd been receptive enough, that somehow the tree and the flaming beast were friends. She sat across the table from him, grinning.
"That was an awesome raid today, Andrew" she said, shoving over her notes, "We stayed up pretty late though." she glanced at the notes, "I've got this down, though. You?" she laughed. "Of course you do. You're a second year!" She laughed again.
Friends were a good thing. Friends who could appreciate all the things she did, were even better. And friends she could help? They were the best. A shame he was taken, but she could live with that. She was just glad to not be alone. She looked over him with totally platonic adoration...
---
She snapped out of it with a blink. Who the heck was Andrew? He seemed... familiar...
3 OF SPADES
My character's username: Maple_Syrup My character's level: 44 Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Cheshire Cat Wraith Current party: NA Current Guild: NA Location: Where applicable, if you are in another zone. Small IC description of character: Maple Syrup is a puppet woman with very woody, brown skin and orange fall leaves everywhere, especially her hair, which appears to just stay in that hairstyle and be completely made of twigs and leaves.
Her eyes and mouth have a yellowish glow to them, though they exude slightly blue-ish wisps of light. Though Eerie, they seem otherwise friendly, like a jack-o-lantern.
She wears the Cheshire cat cloak, semithere tail, and the semithere scarf in the traditional blue-theme, but has foregone the ears for an aura of shadowy magic that seems to cling to her and shift. She also has glowing, long, cyan claws - her weapon as a Cat. Both the claws and the aura are not visible/barely visible out of battle, but become apparent during battle - the claws are very long and sharp, and the aura becomes a miasmic and disturbing cloud... are those eyes? No, of course not.
Aside from being cool and magical, this has no effect on her stats. Its just cool.
The water inside the looking pool was just as beautiful as ever, though it still made her feel uneasy. Just what would she have to view what she drunk it?
Even so, she scooped some the water and gulped it down.
-
"..Jack dammit why-"
She coughed, unable to breathe due to poisonous fumes choking her lungs. All around her hunters stood, preventing her escape as they worked to restrain her with their superior technology. They didn't bother with a weaponization. There was no way she would submit her will to another, so there was only one choice for her.
Her executioner stood before her, face impassive as his weapon pumped gas all around her, Her lunged burned with pain as her visioned dimmed for the last time.
-
With a few curse words, she stormed out of the cell once again.
MY STATS
My character's username: Jack_Blue My character's level: 78 Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Royal Gryphon Current party: - Current Guild: - Location: Red Queens Castle Small IC description of character: A brown haired girl wearing gryphon attire and sporting a tail, ear fins, and ram horns. Appears very excited. Character journal:Here!
Torvil rolled 1 10-sided dice:
10Total: 10 (1-10)
Posted: Sun Mar 30, 2014 9:52 pm
Meat walked into the cell and saw the fountain, grabbing a cup and a ladle, he spooned some of the liquid into the cup and took a long drink. Then he gently slumped against the wall and started to doze off...
He wasn't sure why he was running. Darren knew there could be any number of reasons why he was running so hard and so fast away from - something. He could hear it, behind him - chasing him. The air was growing colder and colder with each passing minute. He could feel the tingle of the chill in the air. He pumped his arms harder, his legs straining to move faster to get him away from the coldness that was starting to seep deep into his body.
He was starting to go numb, it was becoming harder to run. Finally, he stumbled, he heard a soft laugh from behind him, the sounds of foosteps coming closer as he struggled to stand - struggled once more to begin running. But it was too late, he felt the pressure of something resting on the back of his neck, a knee perhaps?
He felt the cold air against his ear, and a lone familiar voice whisper. "She's mine - give it up..." He knew that voice - it was the voice of...
He snapped awake, rubbing his eyes and grumbling. He shivered a bit from the chill, before making his way out of the room, after collecting his reward of course.
MY STATS
My character's username: WalkingMeatShield My character's level: 23 Character's HP: 30 Character's Job Class: Caterpillar Current party: None Current Guild: None Location: Small IC description of character: Pale skin, green hair covers right eye only showing a single red left one. Wearing the standard caterpillar outfit. Character journal:Here
Seeing his future again was highly tempting even though the last vision was sad for he was alone. Yet he found himself back at the place again as he stood in front of the fountain with a cup full of water. This time Feral was sitting down on the floor and took his drink of the cool liquid down. It had tasted sweet like last time followed by the weariness it brought along. His eyes lids felt completely heavy and he fell completely asleep.
--------
He was dreaming again as his vision was slowly coming to clear. It was the future once again and he saw himself, how strong he looked. He was in the human world in a foreign country as he frighten the people around him. Not just a few, but the entire masses of his sheer power. It wasn't something so little for the demon looked completely terrified. It was a nightmare for he feared that he was going to kill them, but he didn't. He did his job and that was it as he saw his future self returned home. His home looked rather . . . nice. It wasn't much, but was only of what San needed to live comfortably, and happy too. The sheer, amazing power was a sight to behold, but he is a clever demon and humble too in the end. Much to his surprise, it was a nice dream to have and comforting to know that he can control himself or at least the possibility was there.
MY STATS
My character's username: Feral_monk My character's level: 21 Character's HP: 30/30 Character's Job Class: Gryphon Current party: n/a Current Guild: n/a Location: Small IC description of character:link Stands at a height of 6'10" with glowing red eyes Character journal:Journal link
My character's username: ShadowLord15 My character's level: 27 Character's HP: 40 Current party: n/a Current Guild: The White Rose Garrison Location: Small IC description of character: A thin looking boy with the basic cheshire outfit. He has black and white striped hair and a pair of glasses. He also has a pair of shadowy arms and a set of blackened claws. Reference. Character journal:here
chiickadee
Princess Hoarder
Offline
its me debz rolled 1 10-sided dice:
1Total: 1 (1-10)
k1ng observed, and distinctly felt as though he was missing pieces to a conversation that wasn't his to listen or be a part of. There was a cadence, in it, in America's future and in the pattern of a downfall that was her wish fulfilment, not his.
"Damnnn b***h," the dormouse said, awed and more than a little impressed. "I didn't even know you ******** had a bad side, let alone that being on it was a death sentence." He clutched his tail, and knew that it was probably his turn now. It was only fair.
"I guess it's only fair that he gets to see this s**t or something."
OOC
My character's username: k1ng My character's name: Leslie My character's level: 50 Character's HP: 40 Current Guild: Small IC description of character: k1ng is a tiny, quiet Dormouse. At five foot nothing, his large mouse ears and demonic horns dwarf his head, and behind him are a pair of white wings. Right now, he shuffles docilely without much protest.
You have become the most powerful entity in this world. What do you do with that power?
In the end, the old adage of "the bigger they are, the harder they fall" doesn't apply: it ends in science you understand, in what you glean to be a battle of wits and a played out long-con. Merlin's downfall leaves behind nothing where there had once been a Legacy of the greatest kind of power.
Almost nothing, anyway.
It is small and it calls to you, because of the fact that years on the island don't exactly erase a lifetime of darkness. Because of whispered hopes and prayers unanswered. Because of wishes at a fountain without the pennies thrown in. It calls to you, because there is room for it, in your ▓▓▓▓▓.
It is just a small piece, a fragment, perhaps, but it is yours. You keep it secret, down an oubliette in the basement layer beneath the one you reside in.
Days pass, and they stretch in the way that dreams do to time, and a year passes in a breath and a blink and little more-- and now. You are the precipice of something great, teetering over the edge. Taym sometimes told him that if you looked into the abyss, it looked back into you, and instead of foreboding it was exhilarating.
"We'll do it," you tell him, despite the mental protests and the screams of horror that follow, every iota of begging falling on deaf ears. You dump them in the machine together, eyes a daze, obeying like the good boy that you are.
And now, there is power in your veins and it is ungodly, pulsing through you like the beat of a newly transplanted heart. The fragment is so much more than it had been, now a staff: black and twisted and gnarled, ancient and terrible and inhabiting the place where Aleria had once been. He is too strong: blackness flares from cracks in the metal, a force too vast to be contained in such a simple stave. The air crackles around you, stinking of ozone and you do not laugh but oh, you smile.
Because you have never felt so alive.
You hold him and he chars your fingers and your wrists, and the blackness creeps up your arms like an inky black tattoo, the evidence of a power borrowed but far from blue. If you wanted to, you could stage a coup and there wasn't anyone here that could stop you. It was awe-inspiring, to know that you held the world in the palms of your hands, and that you could destroy it, if you wanted to.
You could hold anyone you wanted ransom: kings and presidents and leaders. You could rob every bank without a way to find you, without a way to trace you-- But that isn't what you want, and both of you know it.
Make them pay.
A portal crackles to life following the slightest of slashes, and it leads to your childhood home. They haven't moved: of course they haven't. The building is still section-8 and halfway to condemned. The fence is unpainted and worn, the gate hanging off its hinges. The darkness creeps up your neck, singeing your skin and making your heart sing.
You are a good boy, and you are going to destroy any evidence to the contrary: both the perpetrators against you and the and the derelict caretakers alike. It ends without any glory or splendour: there is no painting of the walls with blood, or beautiful deaths.
You intend to make them suffer, and there is a knowledge within you that can tell you how to make the human body bend without breaking, to prolong the pain until it stretches out into infinity, so that you might butcher them before they give out entirely. Because there is a payment owed to you, and the debt runs redder than their blood.
Make them pay.
Your eyes are black-- from lid to lid, they are black-- and glassy as they bring the ruin down upon those that had ruined you. The world is at your fingertips, but your retribution was not so vast. You take them apart and put them back together, knitting the wounds back together just long enough for your brother and your mother and your father to think that maybe, this might be the end.
It is not. Time stretches on, and the house becomes a black hole, a fortress unnoticed and impenetrable, hub for something malevolent and no longer you at all.
The staff thrums, and you are a feral thing, licking the flesh off the bone, teeth scraping against the marrow, and still, they are not done.
Make them pay.
OOC
My character's username: k1ng My character's level: 50 Character's HP: 40 Current Guild: Small IC description of character: k1ng is a tiny, quiet Dormouse. At five foot nothing, his large mouse ears and demonic horns dwarf his head, and behind him are a pair of white wings. Right now, he shuffles docilely without much protest.
Your most hated enemy is asking-- no, begging-- for your assistance. You could help them, but...
Oh, hell no.
Watching herself in the future, older, more mature, she could see her uncle kissing her feet, begging her for... Something. Something she didn't know now, but would know later. She could see her face, mouth curled in distaste, nose wrinkled with a frown. The OCTO of now gave a little giggle.
Mercy was not something OCTOPU55Y was capable of. In the future or in the past.
OCTO could help him, but she definitely wouldn't help that son of a b***h, even if he did turn good. If not helping your enemies means you have a black heart, then she had one as dark as the deepest, darkest bottom of the sea. She narrowed her eyes at the shaking mass of tentacles, tears pouring down his greedy, fat face. She could never forgive him for doing what he did. And would never help him prosper.
"I guess you'll just have to find someone else." She read her mouth say, smiling at the man innocently, as if playing with him. She could see the man break at her feet, still begging, eyes still filled with hope. But the only thought on her mind was of how powerful she was going to be. How amazing.
When she looked away from the pool, she held onto that hope.
MY STATS
My character's username: OCTOPU55Y My character's level: 39 +50exp Character's HP: 40 Character's Job Class: Doormouse Doctor. Current party: N/A Current Guild: Raiders of the Lost Ark Location: ??? Small IC description of character: A dark-grey skinned female with scales and bright neon marks littered all over her body. She has bold purple hair pulled into a side ponytail, and purple eyes to match, with her sclera completely black. With fins replacing her ears as well as webbing trailing from one finger to the other, this girl looks aquatic. Character journal:ALL DA PU55Y
