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 Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 6:09 pm
((Wil is not going to be happy when he wakes up... blaugh but for now I just have to wait a bit before Wil can wake up again))
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 6:12 pm
((I'm so mad...Stupid site...Stupid...stupid...site...-=SCREAMS AND CRIES AND BEATS HER FISTS INTO THE WALL=-))
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 6:44 pm
Shainal Vincent ((I'm so mad...Stupid site...Stupid...stupid...site...-=SCREAMS AND CRIES AND BEATS HER FISTS INTO THE WALL=-)) ((Hm? What's up?))
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 7:16 pm
"Hah, stupid giant!" The mass of bulk was taking Bakemono's bait! As soon as Bakemono saw the titan begin to lunge at him, Bakemono quickly pushed off the pillar he stood upon and leaped to the top of the next with spear in hand. Now at the top of the citadel's core, the moon was playing the role of Bakemono's spotlight, incasing that well tanned, and tonned body of a god in a silver glow. Luckily, he was in view of everyone, but the shadows seemed to pool at his crotch and thus hiding anything.. Grotesque.
Bakemono held his balence quite well standing upon the gargoyle. With his right foot sitting upon the vulgar creature of stone's head, the other held his balence on the edge of the gargoyle's perch. My, sisn't the demonic samurai look cocky up there, standing so high and mighty above everyone else! He wore a grin on his face which showed his peraly whites to the world, he head tilted to one side - a gentle cant.
Though he was not atop a mountain, there was the beginnings of a breeze that made those springy locks of his snake in the air like the head of medussa (SP?) however his eyes appeared to be the perfect image of a snake. Granted, they had not an amber hue nor a slitted pupil, that glow of theirs seemed to only glow as if he planned on slaying the giant. However, that was not true. Bakemono had killed many a warrior in his life time - but never did he harm a child. Women on the other hand..
The fact was that the titan, no matter how vicious, reminded him of a child throwing a fit. Bakemono simply couldn't bring himself to slay him. However.. That mentality couldn't hold up much longer if the giant continued his merciless attack. There for Bakemono had to get rid of him, and quick.
With his eyes teasing, and his grin mocking the monster of a man the spear wielding samurai didn't need to say a word - instead he only needed to wait for him to attack. Just one more, and Bakemono would be rid of the vicious little s**t.. Granted he was not little at all. How Bakemono managed to do it without harming the giant was.. Unknown.
((Bleck, sucky post. -yawn-))
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 8:17 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 9:16 pm
"Eek!" Cerise shrieked. Her bright, mahagony eyes were wide with shock. "What the heck are you doing?" She watched in absolute horror as Baza continued merrily in his task, cutting the unconscious elf's hair.
Cherry was aghast. She wasn't the most appearance-conscious creature in the world. Her own red hair was simply razored in short layers, after all. It wasn't, then, the change in Wil's look that bothered her; rather, Cherry was just simply a naturally kind person. Usually.... Kind of. Well, at the very least, she could sense when something wasn't quite right.
"Baaaza!" she cried. "You can't just go cutting people's hair! It's just, um, you know..." She paused a moment, pouting, and sifting through her vocabulary for a fitting word. "Mean! It's mean!" It wasn't the most intelligent adjective, but it summed up the girl's feelings quite well. She nodded vehemently with a very decisive air, continuing to pout. Her arms over her chest and she began tapping a foot in obvious annoyance. Of course, being Cherry, her foot moved so quickly that it became a blur.
"And another thing!" the girl said. She wagged an index finger in the air, admonishing the fox merchant. The attempt to look threatening failed miserably, and she instead looked like...well, a sugar-crazed teenager. Cherry didn't seem to care. "You could've waited for him to wake up, at least!"
At this point, she was so peeved at Baza that under normal circumstances, she would have stormed off in a cloud of sparkly pink rage. Of course, for now that wasn't an option; without a witness, the merchant might just decide that organs would make a nice profit. She shuddered at the thought. So, instead of leaving, Cherry merely continued tapping her foot in irritation.
After a few minutes of childish brooding, it finally occured to Cerise that the three of them were getting tons of odd glances--more even, than what she was used to. Her expression softened into a typical look of contemplation, and she turned her attention back to Baza.
"Um, Baza..." she began. Her fingers idly combed through her short hair. "Don't you think we should move out of the way or something?" It really must have been a comical scene: a rowdy fox merchant leaning over an unconscious elf (with newly chopped off hair) and a ditzy-looking girl in her late teens scolding him. "I can prob'ly levitate him or something..."
She collected her backpack which had, over the course of recent actions, been thrown on the ground. While she waited for Baza's response, she placed her bag of cherries inside and slipped the pack back over her shoulders.
{I'm running out of things to post about.}
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AnqeIicDemise Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 9:36 pm
(( I apologize if my post isn't exactly up to par. Brain no function -- too much blah in life.
I'll try. I need the distraction. But catching up is a pain. -moan-))
The nun said nothing for a long time, her thoughts too scattered for Sense to understand itself. Too many things were happening-- foiled plans, miracles, soon-to-be-trampled innocents. get your act together, Sister! You are not just a slayer; above all you are a soldier in His army and it is your job to protect the innocents above all costs.
As Bagel spoke, it all came together in the back of her mind. "Right! You are totally right!"
The aloof, and somewhat 'ditzy' air that had taken over the young body's aura seemed to disperse at that moment. She got up then, quietly placing the veil along the crown of her head before stepping on out from the fountain. The coarse, heavy cloth of her habit caused the material to cling onto Sister Raven's body and the end result was that of a somewhat vulgar body-suit that left just enough to the imagination to agravate the sin of Lust. Still, the girl paid no mind to what she may or may not be provoking as now duty was the only thing in her mind.
Greyish-gold eyes followed Bagel for an instant as she gave him a faint nod. The cloth felt heavy against her skin-- and inwardly, a string of curses invaded her mind. Strength was not an issue with Sister Raven. Unlike her peers and co-workers, she paid more attention to the gift of agility and cunning than brute power. It was part of the reason on why the young novice was one of the youngest, if not the only, female member of The Mandatum.
Without giving precaution another thought, the young novice took off. Droplets of water danced in the young woman's wake as she ran, nimbly dodging falling objects and weaving through panicked by-standers. Her gaze shifted from the Titan to the Demon, careful to gauge her next movement. It was not the first time she fought alongside the Samurai and by the looks of the duo's current situation, it would not be the last. In their strange pairing, the Prude and the Crude made an excellent team and wether that had been a fluke in the Cardinal's judgement one could only guess.
He's not looking? Thought she, as her soaked form scooped up a crying child moments before a giant foot crashed on that spot. He's deeply offended... enraged and offended, almost like-- "A child..."
The tent upon which Sister Raven had taken shelter (not out of stupidity but because it was the closest place out of chao's way) suddenly caved. The little boy in the nun's arms gave out a petrified scream while his protector only prayed.
"There, there little one." Cooed the young novice as she cradled him in her arms. "We're not dead yet as it is not our time."
Somehow, a radiant light had burst amid what should have been darkness. The light engulfed the trapped creatures in a small little bubble upon which not even the stirred up dust was capable of penetrating. The boy dried his tears then. Sister Raven, on the other hand unsheathed the sword on her back. Slowly and carefully she pointed the weapon onto the bulky canvas only to tear away a small hole. "Go on out, and seek shelter beyond the Gargoyles."
The little boy shook his head as a look of fear spread across his face. Sister Raven smiled, her left hand caressing his cheeks. "Don't you know-- they're hideous because that's how they ward off the Devil? Its why you always find them outside on the rooftops of a Cathedral. Now go, you'll be safe."
"But what about you?"
"Eh, don't worry about me, I promise I'll be fine."
And she was. Even if she ended up trapped under rubble while she thought of a plan to get out. After all, she was a giant in her own rights and the space between the rocks was barely big enough for the boy to fit through.
After he escaped, the novice poked away at her soaked skirts until she found a small purse. There's got to be something of use in this thing.....stupid demon.
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 8:49 am
((Gack! It seems that I've fallen quite far behind....Please let me know if I've made any mistakes. ^^; ))
Quinta frowned inwardly as Zander's name rang in her ears. Well, it was either his name that was ringing, or the earth shattering crunch of metal going through solid stone. The fight between the demon and titan was slowing begining to annoy her, although thats because a little voice in the bak of her head warned her not to look for fear of seeing something bad. Nimbly staying upright as the citadel shook from impact, she continued to smile at Zander if in a slightly stressed manner.
The bond that formed between them as he willing gave up his name to her, for her ability doesn't work unless this is so, was also causing her a portion of irritation. It wasn't whole. Something was effecting the bond in such a way that she was having a hard time holding on to it, like grasping at steam. The sheep anthro didn't really understand that the name he gave may not be his true name, so this was a rather distressing situation for her. Of all the times she formed bonds with other people, to only forget about it later and release the bonds, never had she had this much trouble in making a connection with another person. It was too strange for her to comprehend (sp?), and once again, the commotion in the background wasn't helping.
As Bakemono's latest insult echoed through the slowly crumbling structure, the little anthro finally snapped.
Wipping around, her cloaks swaying from the sudden motion like the ocean that the green and blue velvet represented, she glared daggers at the cocky demon (no joke intended). Luckly for her eyes she could no longer see anything below his waist due to the shadows, but in her state of childish rage it wasn't likely that she would notice anyway. Stomping across the citadel, not even noticing the lack of people seeing how most of the crowd had already run off to aviod the battle going on, she purposely hit the tips of her split hooves off the ground causing each step she took to echo with the suprisingly loud clang. Strangely enough the noise emmiting from her hooves hitting the cobblestones sounded more like metal striking metal then bone striking stone.
Now, while a thin little sheep anthro swathed in cloaks may not seem very frightening, no one could be sure of what she could do when angry enough to accually do anything.
However.....
She didn't even get halfway across the citadel when a sudden movement caught her eye. Pausing mid-step, she looked over to the other side of the open area to witness Bagel's fixing of the pillar. Never before having seen this type of ability, she automatically turned and headed towards him as he collasped on the ground. So much for her doing something about Bakemono and the titan. Once again her attention has been snatched away by something almost completely off topic.
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 11:19 am
(henceforth, Zandar posts will be in black, while my new character posts will be in blue.)
Zandar's Friendly smile quickly turned into a frown as his gaze moved to the demon. He felt almost sorry for the poor titan, who could hardly control himself. He knew how it felt to lose control, he was familiar with waking up, not knowing what had happened days in the past, in the middle of a decimated town or village. he didn't want to know what he had done during those times.
He could almost see what the demon was doing, however. It looked masterfully tactical to him, but hardly useful. His glance ran up to his pack, and his mind ran to his staff. He concentrated, and summoned it into his hand. He pointed the tip at the ground, and he was soon standing on a pillar of earth about ten feet tall that he had called out of the ground beneath him. he silently watched the scene with growing interest, wanting to see exactly how the demon could get himself out of the predicament his own foolishness had put him into.
Clank. Clank. Clank. With every other step, a sword clanked against a marvel of metal and cloth. A young-looking warrior walked into the Citadel. Shoulderpads rested on his upper arms, with his marvellous clothes of brilliant blues and purples shining like metal. this was only half true. his clothes were a marvel of weaving, a magical mesh of cloth and steel, that was comfortable, warm, and resistant to most weaponry. His shirt and pants were made of this incredible material.
A royal violet scarf would around his neck twice, with both large ends trailing off. Whenever a wind picked up, this scarf would wave and flutter like an army's banner. A belt of a likened color, only darker, wound around his waist in a similar fashion, only without the large ends.
This man used to be well known. He, at one time, was a military general, who was known for his uncommon abilities. He was now retired, happy to travel around in search of merchants selling oddities and people foolish enough to challenge him. Few would believe he was almost fourty. The clank softened, followed by the quiet sound of metal sliding against metal. The sheath continued to clank, but without the perfectly crafted steel blade with a steel handle that, denoting his rank, was plated in gold and studded by the magic metal known as materite. He was a truly formidable foe in battle.
he browsed from market to market, seemingly oblivious to anything else going on. He bought a few things; a trinket, some food, a gem. He walked from stall to stall in an almost strategized fashion, moving closer and closer to the warring titan and demon. He stopped about ten feet away and resheathed his sword, the metal seeming to cry out a protest at the dropped challenge. He would let them fight. For now, anyways.
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 12:16 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 2:05 pm
(okay, it looks like the citadel is under some sort of demonic-attack thingy, so here goes nothin!)
It was nighttime, time for resting and recovery of the days events. The time when people die only to be reborn the next day. When the sun hides it's face and takes it's nap while it's lover the moon held reign over the world. For Morpheous to spead his blanket of stars over the horizon and send all those who had a full exciting day into slumber.
Well, except for those who don't sleep.
Our good friend had just staggered away from his latest midnight encounter. The burning remains of what seemed to be human flesh and smelled of brimstone and sulfur marking a small light in the vast darkness of the wilderness he was currently in. The figure staggered and stumbled. Leaking precious life fluid all across the ground from the many wounds and lacerations he had on his body.
"Please.....let me rest." Came his whispered plea.
"Your work is not yet done. There is still much to do ere you find the rest you seek." The voice rumbled from the ground. Causing the man to stumble and fall to all fours. Head hanging down and breathing heavily as he closed his eyes tightly. Sweat glistening in the moonlight and falling to the ground to mix with his blood.
"Where else....must I roam? What other wrongs.....must I fix?" His voice came out in heated blasts of steam from between his lips as he begged of the others to let him be.
"Over yon hill lies a citadel in danger. A fowl messenger has brought ill tidings. It shall be your task to spread the right message. And to retire this one of his duties.....In order for this, I shall allow another to take over your burden."
The man slowly stopped his panting, his bleeding slowing and finally stoping as his wounds recovered themselves. Sewing themselves back together almost instantly. Hissing mist rising from the wounds to purge them of infection.
The man lifted himself to his feet and dusted his coat off. As the dust fell, the clothing itself became restored as well as he wiped his hands over them.
"Can't let the messenger put off a bad image, eh?" He said in a rather gleeful, almost eager voice. His lips pulled back into a wild grin as he did afew stretches, his muscles creaking even as the ache and pain faded from them. His joints realigning themselves and strengthening as part of his recovery. Before long, the man was completely whole and appeared as if he had never even seen a battle not a mere 5 minutes ago.
"Well then. There's a party I have to crash. It's someone's birthday."
The figure said as he reached inside his coat and pulled out a pair of thick black shades. Sliding them on over his eyes, he made a gesture, and the ground in front of him exploded upwards. A door rising out of the earth. As the door opened into darkness the figure made another gesture. And a dark red staff with silver caps on either end levitated up from the ground near him and then flew into his hands. The staff shortening to a mere foot in length. He tucked the weapon away.
"Alright kiddies. Say hello to madness." He chanted as he stepped into the door. the door shutting behind him and sinking back into the ground.
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 2:06 pm
(*stares in abject horror at his obvious typo* gonk )
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 9:01 pm
The cool stone under the slumbering casters head was nothing more than a pitted weatherd doorway into a hugner induced fantasy world. Dreams casued by an unwarented loss of consiousness are never really coherent or good. Yet bagel had become a master at manipulating his dreams. A talent probably msot credited to teh trainign of ones mind to focus and visualize an objective for the sake of creation and manipulation.
Yet this particular dream wasn't cooperating. Bagel had drained himself quite a bit this time and his control over his subconsious proceses were waning at best. This dream started as an offshoot fo actual events. Bagels pleased with his results felt the pang of hunger that accompanied every casting. yet htis time it faded away. He sat down at he foot of the pillar and watched the demon and titan continue thier conflict. he watched as they both locked into a very over dramticised and possibly coreographed battle. Each lunge was met with a perfectly timed parry and dodge. The two despite their differnce in clothes and attire ware almost evenly matched. Then the nun stepped in from somehwere outside fo bagels feild of vision and raised a hand . She asked the two to stop their fighting. Or rather thats what bagel gathered, his dreams rarely came with a soundtrack. And the two layed down their weapons and bowed to her. She was wet for some reason. bagel remebered her sititng under the fountain. Bagel admired her figure a little then scolded himself. He kew she was pretty but he also knew she was a nun and off limits. Poor bagel desiring what he cannot have.
The citadel and the nun and warriors faded from his mind /bagel began to wonder what this meant, his mind playing the scene. What reason would the demon have to be agreeable with the woman. bagel mearely let the thoughts fade as his dream continued onward.. towards memories of home and his family. It wasn't really anyting coherent at all. just enough to let bagel know he was in fact still alive.
And very very hungry.
(pardon the short post but im just trying to make some filler.. i dont want him to wake up yet by his own means ..becasue it just wouldnt fit the "rules and consequences" of his abilities. so im more or less letting the players know..and giving my character something to ponder for a while . he tends to take alot of meaning into his dreams.. yet hardly ever figures them out.....like i said..fluff and filler razz ))
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 9:47 pm
Shainal slipped a hand into her white jacket pocket and pulled out a few gold coins to purchase the earrings. While she did, she watched Alexander out of the corner of her eye and noticed that he was currently being distracted by the titan and the warrior. A way out! She thanked the merchant and quickly made her way into the slowly dwindling crowd of both merchants and potential customers. Once her body was hidden out of Alexanders view, she made a run for it, not stopping for anything or anyone. Hopefully she could find some place she could hide from him. Although there never truely was any place she could escape him. Somehow, he always managed to find her. Why she married the man is still a mystery to her. One moment she was running for her life through a jungle, avoiding his wrath, and the next moment she was waking up at some church and it was apparently her wedding night. He had claimed that she had dozed off after the ceremony and he hadn't wanted to stir her. Shainal put her money on him poisoning her or enchanting her somehow into marriage. It was after all his specialty. The man could mix up a mean concoction when he wanted to.
Just keep going! Don't stop running! Shainal chanted to herself with each step she ran. When she finally did come to a stop, she found herself before an enormous church. Ironic? She thought so too. As she stood there, gaping up at the massive structure like a child, she couldn't help but to notice similarities between this church and the cathedral where she had supposedly exchanged wedding vows with Alexander. Awkward...definately. Perhaps all churches look the same. Shainal didn't know any better when it came to what she called "Building anatomy."
Snapping back to her senses, she looked off into the crowd It didn't take her long to make out Alexanders tall, white form approaching slowly. Too slowly. He probably either already knew where she was, or had a good guess. It was the reason he took his time. Atleast that's what he had told her. Not taking any chances, the fur covered woman ran up to the entrance of the church and began knocking furiously at the two large oak double doors.
Looking over her shoulder, she could no longer see Alexander, but knew he was still coming closer and so she pounded yet again at the door. Just when she had given up hope, the door slowly swung open with an eerie screech. Shainal walked forward, glancing around to the other side of the door. But there was no one there. Golly, I hope I didn't loosen the hinges, she thought to herself. She stepped into the small area on the other side of the door, and quickly shut the door behind her. She leaned against it, putting all her weight there to make sure it was securely closed before she found the courage to step away from it.
Looking around the small room she had entered, she found it to be rather simple. There were two wooden tables on either side of her, both of which had two long white candles lit on them. On the far end closer to the edges, their were two piles of white papers. Probably those church pamphlets. Myuh.. Shainal walked towards the other end of the room where there were yet another set of double doors. Although she dreaded entering the church anymore than she had, she knew that standing there would make her an even better target for Alexander had he decided to enter there. So, she pushed against these two new doors. But to no avail. They did not open.
What in the world? Who the heck locks people out of church? Shainal gave the door another push, but still they didn't budge. Frustrated, she took a step away from them. When she looked down, she spotted the two metal handles on the door and let out a list of swears in her mind. Thank goodness no one was there to witness her stupidity. Placing her hands on the handles, she pulled on them and the door smoothly opened.
Inside of this second room was actually the farthest into the church she figured you could get to on this floor. All around her were rows upon rows of pews. All of which were made from the very same wood as the double doors that were at the initial entrance of the church. Shainal admired the handywork, but that was all she liked. At the front of the church, near to the stand where the preacher was known to be located, were several short red candles, all of which were lit and sparkling dimly in the dark and spacious room.
Sighing, she walked down in between the pews and towards the candles. The woman hadn't noticed them before, but when she did a strong chill swivvled down her spine. There were two cloaked figures standing on either side of the rows of candles. They wore hoods, so she could not make out if they were staring at her or not. But they were facing her, so it creeped her out to a maximum.
Silently she went closer to the front of the church, approaching the cushioned bench on which the congregation was known to kneel and pray in turn during service hours. Shainal had watched it happen once a long time ago in her home land. Of course, she hadn't attended that service. She was walking by and they had left the doors open due to emense heat. Shainal was facinated by it. Anyways, she was a good mimic, and so she kneeled there at the benches and closed her eyes, pretending she was praying.
She was kneeling there for only a few minutes, thinking to herself how utterly silly she must look. The amount of sins she had committed in her life time were uncountable, so had lightening struck her dead at that moment she wouldn't have been surprised. Goddess forbid Alexander walk in there and see her attempting to pray. He would definately call her out for a fake.
All of these thoughts were suddenly brought to a halt when a hand touched her shoulder. Shainals eyes shot open in surprise and she looked up, only to see one of the cloaked figures had approached her and was standing over her while she kneeled there. It had placed a wrinkled and slightly deformed looking hand on her shoulder and small whispers of prayer could be heard coming from the shadows that were kept by the hood of the cloak. Shainal quickly shut her eyes, trying to toss the scary image away while continuing to pretend she was praying.
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Posted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 9:49 pm
Girlie Boy Imatation #6 Shainal Vincent ((I'm so mad...Stupid site...Stupid...stupid...site...-=SCREAMS AND CRIES AND BEATS HER FISTS INTO THE WALL=-)) ((Hm? What's up?)) ((I had made a massive post yesterday and bloody Gaia lost it before I could put it in here. ;-; I was highly upset.))
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