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 Posted: Tue Dec 07, 2010 9:57 pm
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Seeing Amie's face after his joke, remorse didn't quite cover the feeling he was having. He knew a thunderstorm was brewing, and the only question was when it would arrive and when the rest of the room would get the forecast. He actually hadn't been aware she spoke English simply because there had never been occasion to do so before then, so he'd never heard her speak it, and in a world where paperwork and routinely killing things with a sword and training others to do the same was the norm, there wasn't exactly a huge amount of time for small talk regarding things like that. Her smile really said it all though, just a mite too toothy to be happiness but easily passable for it at first glance. She passed the overlarge man his drink, wished him the best and complimented his candor on Bizzaro World, she almost seemed to ask him to pull some s**t, so she could show him just how much he was a fool for treating her that way. The anger... it wasn't like Amie at all. Normally she was the nicest person you'd ever have the privilege to meet, but that oaf had pressed her buttons just a bit too much for his own good, and Fefnir hadn't been bright enough to see it coming. Still, it wasn't as if he could go back in time and undo it, so he'd just have to roll with it and hopefully improve her mood somehow, but first things first, he took his Red XIII and downed it, anticipating sweet revenge too much to pay attention to the flavor. Effort one, venom from the snake that bit him. In his best Italian accent, Fefnir asked her, "You want I should break his legs, boss?" She didn't seem amused as she downed a shot.
Time for plan B.
The weird man across the way that had been trying to make fire out of a table leg had lit his cigarette with the resulting flame caused by Amie's kidou, and in what had to be the ballsiest move of all times forever, asked the head captain's wife if she wanted to have sex with him. She thankfully and obviously answered no, going so far as to laugh at him, and after mocking him a bit more quietly to Tezuka, commented that she'd have the red guy roast him. To accent her point, surely as she planned, he gave a quick flash of hot reiatsu, his own little territorial pissing. That wasn't all, though; seizing the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, he intoned to the lummox in old timey English, "Knight, dost thou seest that serf?" he gingerly raised a finger and pointed at the skinny man across the way, "He hast fornicated with thine mother." Knowing that the giant retard would jump on such an insult with gusto, the only question was if the other man would run away really fast or reveal himself as more powerful and kick the walking tin can's a**. Either way, Fefnir won.
He gave an apologetic sort of look toward his beloved, as if to say "I told you he was retarded and I meant it". After a moment's thought, he also added, verbally this time and in English so the others wouldn't understand, "I'm having a bit of trouble with my silverware. I never know if I'm better with the big spoon or the little spoon. Any suggestions?" He could have blatantly said 'after sex, do you wanna hold me, or should I hold you', but he thought he'd use some innuendo for fun. Then in Japanese he noted, "I see you don't like my stalker either, huh? He's been trying to kill me for weeks, but he's so weak and stupid he can't get the drop on me. He thinks I'm the devil or something." With a little smirk, he pointed toward his head and drew a circle with it, the universal sign for crazy. "Sorry about him, I really am."X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Whoever writes in BLOOD,
_____Does not want to be READ
____________But LEARNED by HEART...
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Posted: Sun Dec 12, 2010 5:50 pm
 Takezo's right brow took an aloof arc, 'cents?' Takezo had a tendency to distort what his selective ears catch, whether it be for his own sense of security or from the occasional insanity. 'What makes her think I carry American pocket change in my head?' The way she was laughing caused Takezo to assume she was wildly hysterical. And every white collar code monkey to every distinguished pervert knew the arguments of wild women... wild in bed. Takezo only began to plot his next move, but was cut short of his imagination from a Falcon Punch to his side, and his eyes shone bright with his life force trying to escape the pain invading his body, but to no avail, his mouth went agape and the cigarette that was yet only half drained tipped lifelessly over his suffocated lips. His vertebrae gave out for a second and he lurched forward into a fashionable head-bar. As soon as Takezo's organs began to function again he promptly got up to look at his assailant, Lieutenant Zaine. "You have failed... I still live!" Letting out a competitive laugh, he looked at Zaine with a certain madness, coupled with the half-disgusted, confident smile, the sarcastically sorrowful look in his eyes stated 'are you serious?'
"No need to be jealous just because you're not as adept with women as myself Lieutenant, perhaps you'd like me to tutor you a bit?" All the while second-hand smoke was probably polluting Zaine's lungs considering how up close to Zaine Takezo had gotten. The next thing on Takezo's mind was the constant jabbering over the other end of the bar... someone was talking and not in a manner he understood.'Surf?' In Takezo's mind an image of an octopus riding a surf board came up... it sounded familiar but couldn't quite see the relevance. "Fornicated?" Takezo repeated the new term out loud, trying to see where it would fit into Japanese vocabulary, and couldn't see it being Japanese at all. "What the ******** is that? Sounds dirty..." A clue may have been given as he panned the room for the wretch whom spoke and did not translate, and the only thing that caught his eye was a red-guy doing some sort of sign-language.
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Posted: Mon Dec 13, 2010 12:02 pm
Afton looked at the tiny glass, GLASS! Gifted to him by the bar maid skeptically. How could they afford to have their cups made from glass!? Even the mighty lords drank from metal tankerds or fine cups. Even king Richard himself didn't have the money to make his cups from glass! So terrified was he of even touching such a fragile piece of artisanship, that he simply stared at it for several seconds before looking up at the increasingly maddened wench, as if begging for something that he wouldn't shatter by simply breathing on it too hard.
Before he could ask for something a bit more sturdy for him to drink out of, the devil spoke to him.
Not as he usually did, with new century phrases that made deciphering what he said difficult, but in his own language. He stared at Fefnir wide eyed for a moment in absolute shock before realizing what he had actually said.
"He hast fornicated with thine mother."
The first question that arose in his mind was how would he know? The answer was obvious! Satan knew all the sinners of man and their sins. Second question, why tell Afton? To get his reaction of corse, so he might sin in return by vengefully beating the tar out of this man.....
When in Rome....
Afton had already been banished to hell, why shouldn't he be able to fight for his mother's honor in death as he should have been able to in life?
His head snapped to follow where his finger had pointed, his mind racing. His mother was an honest and good god loving woman, she would never betray his father. So this serf, this scum of the earth had to have done so against his mother's will. And he would pay dearly for it. Afton's eyes narrowed as his target got up and looked drunkenly around, repeating the same word "fornicated" as if he was looking for another innocent to harm! Even here in the underworld he couldn't stop! Afton drew his massive claymore single handed, and let out a mighty battle cry, ready to destroy this daemon for his sins.
"Hell itself shan't shelter thou now!"
He screamed as he brought his claymore down with astonishing speed and strength.
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Posted: Wed Dec 15, 2010 4:59 pm
To say beer had been sprayed from Tezuka's nose all over the counter top was an understatement. Having looking at the mug and attempting to swig the whole thing in one gulp before hearing his subordinate, Takezo, mutter something even Fefnir might not being willing to plainly spell out in public the brown liquid now made its debut as a temporary Jackson Pollock showpiece all over the counter and the wall beyond; leaving Tezuka in a fit of coughing only reserved for those with the final stage of tuberculosis. He slapped at his own chest, watery eyes shut tightly even for a man of Asian descent. His hand did little to quell the feeling of drowning. The situation did little else. Between gasping for air and searching for a rag to wipe his face Tezuka was kept thoroughly occupied as the rest of events unfolded.
Giving up on finding a suitable cloth, Tezuka grabbed at his haori and dabbed at his eyes, wiping away the salty liquid emitted until his field of vision cleared. He blinked a little, testing his tolerance only to be down trodden by the sight before him: beer stains on a brand new haori. <******** me'ta tears..." He mumbled into his chin, huffing loudly before turning around to stare at the ceili-hello. His brow furrowed, more in confusion than in frustration, as he bare witness to the giant newcomer taking a swing at Takezo, all the while sputtering more gibberish from his mouth hole. He was mad, that much Tezuka could make out. But why?
He turned his head slightly as Fefnir spoke to Amie, telling her the man thought Fefnir was the devil or some bullshit. Oh great. More confusion. Tezuka just shook his head at it all continuing with the 'whatever' attitude as he blindly reached back and plucked his drink from the counter and drained its contents. Another feeling of warm fuzziness came over him, an awkward smile/smirk smearing across his face as he brought his arm down...and chucked the shot glass at the charging behemoth's projected head region. Granted it would most likely miss all things considered, but Tezuka could stand back now and say he did his part to defend his squad members against the violent advances of others. Ah, the life of buzzed superior was a good one.
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Posted: Mon Dec 20, 2010 5:28 pm
Seeming as Takezo's only real warning of the preemptive strike was the bellowing of the large oaf shouting in some archaic language, not sounding particularly happy. Takezo's first reaction wasn't present, so the next moment would have to count before the large slate of sharpened metal would cut him in half. Using the bar as leverage, Takezo turned on the bar stool, and slipped off the stool. The brilliant plan would have worked, if not for a shot glass shattering against Takezo's head, stalling him for a moment and the far edge of the claymore caught the loose side of his shihakusho. and slamming him down with the weight of his torso allowing the blade to cut into the back of his left shoulder.
In order to get up, Takezo had to allow the blade to tear through the rest of the fabric, while hoisting himself up with built momentum from his legs kicking upward and a bit of help from his right hand. "Ooooooiiii," Takezo began with the confident half-disgusted smirk he wore when the testosterone and adrenaline levels rose. "You got some sort of rage issues or something? If you need to vent why not do it in bed? You look like you haven't had any fun in a while." He felt the torn fabric of the shihakusho kosode, and decided it to be best if he let it fall off his shoulders. While he tried to convince the wretched ogre in front of him to make love, not war, he rubbed the fresh wound, wiping some perfectly healthy blood onto his hand and flicked it at Afton, hoping some out make it onto his face or better yet his mouth. But it suddenly came to him he was probably wasting his time, Afton appeared to not understand Japanese at all, so he decided on universal communication.
Takezo lifted his hand in a skyward fist at Afton, and brought the middle soldier to attention. This would probably just piss him off more, so Takezo brought up his fists, with the right in the lead, but quickly, allowed himself to finish the last majestic drag of the cigarette, before tossing it off to the side. Hopefully no one would stop them, Takezo had already been set on kicking the big guys a**, to avenge his rushed cigarette.Takezo was unsure, considering this was his first time even seeing Afton, whether his body constitution would allow him to swiftly move the claymore or if he would struggle a bit. Either way Takezo took a leap of stupidity and threw his soulless wakizashi at the man, to test his reflexes and precision. He didn't much care if he got his weapon back soon, he proffered to fight hand to hand, which made him wonder why he never joined Squad Seven or whatever. I bet their Captain probably wouldn't miss such an easy shot and mistakenly hit their subordinate.
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Posted: Wed Jan 19, 2011 7:49 pm
OoC[late post is late. x.x we moved. I apologize for the shitastic post. mid terms this week. ugh. ]
Zaine tried to apologize for his friends words, but they were out and gone way to fast. Her husband made a few joke comments, and she would have laughed at his Italian accent if she wasn't still recovering from the appalling comment. However, her mood did ebb when she felt his flash of reitsu at her threat. It eased her such a great deal to know he was at such a quick response to her request, and that he was was willing to be a little flashy if she asked him to be.
"Knight, dost thou seest that serf?"
Amie's ears perked at her native tongue, and she smirked as he began. This sounded funny. She liked where it was going.
"He hast fornicated with thine mother."
Amie's jaw literally dropped. It took a moment for her to process what just happened, before nervous laughter begged to to spill out of her throat. She chocked some of it, but a giggle still escaped, which she silenced quickly with a quick movement of her hand. However, it was a vain effort, because the barbaric muscle man got up, and charged. Holy s**t. She didn't think the guy would be such an easily movable target. But, hey. Times were simpler back then, and Fefnir was a pretty believable guy. So she supposed she'd cut the ancient man a break. He was just providing to much entertainment. And like that, Amie's mood was lifted from appall to humor and pleasant. Her reitsu shifted and eased.
"I'm having a bit of trouble with my silverware. I never know if I'm better with the big spoon or the little spoon. Any suggestions?
Amie leaned over the bar, propping her elbows on the table and her chin on the top of her hand. She smiled warmly at him, with a spark of something suggestive though, hidden. She caught his innuendo. "Your English is pretty sexy babe." She began, chuckling in spite of herself, from the events going on, and her sudden wave of good humor. She reached for his hand, and opened his finger on hers, demonstrating how much bigger his hands were then hers. He either had monster hands, or she had petite ones. "I think you know the answer to that." She mused, tilting her head, letting her smile quirk up her right cheek. The subject moved on though, and she moved with it. She liked the verbal foreplay though, and the back and forth was fueling her desire to get out of here.
"I see you don't like my stalker either, huh? He's been trying to kill me for weeks, but he's so weak and stupid he can't get the drop on me. He thinks I'm the devil or something."
Amie gave him a confused raise of a brow. "The devil?" She repeated, following the language change. There, she decided, she would save English for....other means of communication, between herself and her husband. At any rate, it was hard to picture such a kind man as the harbormaster of sin. She supposed the only connection was the red. She mentally shrugged meeting his aggravation with a wave of sympathy. She slipped her hand from his, to brush his chin. "We'll figure it out babe. Promise." She brushed her forehead against his for a moment, then painfully pulled herself away. The fight was starting.
She placed her attention on it, giggle rising again in her throat, deciding to instigate. "Punish him!" She cheered in English, egging on the giant hunk of muscle. She probably would have been friends with the guy, found his sense of humor amusing, if he wasn't such a pig. Tezuka seemed to be enjoying himself as well, spewing alcohol through his nose over her bar. If he was in a more sour mood, she might have made him clean it up, but she was to happy.
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Posted: Sun Jan 23, 2011 6:39 pm
((For a mission that I was told to do.. I hope this is okay... ^^"))
Hidden in a pocket of darkness near the door, Fukabi's tiny frame trembled silently. She had ditched her straw mask for this particular mission, as it would be noisy and clumsy. Instead, she had replaced it with a black face, neck, and head wrap that resembled a skin-tight hood, leaving only her eyes peeking out in an oval-shaped slot. She had been watching these particular party-goers for the better part of twenty minutes, somehow remaining completely hidden due to her own extremely faint reiatsu strength, the inebriated states of those involved, and more recently, the fact that a fight had just broken out. In any normal situation, she would have left a long time ago, or perhaps not even shown up, but she figured that this squad would have been easier to prank than the eighth, which focused on intelligence gathering, or the seventh, which had a rather high likelihood of being punched. In any of the cases, there was risk involved, but she was hoping that the high concentration of spiritual pressure in this particular building, which had at least two captains in it, would be enough to keep her from being seen or felt.
She remained in position for several more minutes, keeping her breath slow and even, and making sure that she was completely pressed against the wall in the shadows, for all intrinsic purposes, invisible to the naked eye. As one of the partiers exclaimed 'punish him!', she made her move, dashing quickly forwards with light taps of her feet, dropping low in a single roll that came up directly to the left of the bar, pressed against the side and underneath the counter, once again safe in the shadows. Recognizing that her chance would never come again, she whipped out the two packages of bitter, colorless, odorless powder she had brought, completely harmless, but foul tasting beyond compare, and poured them into the two bottles of alcohol that seemed to be getting the most usage, allowing them to settle before gently swirling them around, ensuring that the mixture was perfect. Once this was completed, she produced the note that she had pre-written, and had been instructed to leave at the prank site;
{"You have officially been pranked. If you think you have what it takes to retaliate against us we offer only this as warning; payback WILL be swift.
Our Best Regards,
The Pheonix and the Falcon"}
After placing the note, she took another slow, deep breath, then rolled away, ducking under the side of the counter and slipping behind the partiers once again, waiting until the attention was focused on the brawlers before ducking out the door, and away from the squad.
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Posted: Wed Jan 26, 2011 4:48 pm
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Love has a funny way of changing the way you look at things.
There are certain times when the feelings are commonplace, the natural beauty of the world through rose-tinted glasses, and there are some times when it comes on stronger than that, bringing with it a carnal need, a desire that glances and words do nothing to satisfy. It was subtle to this point, drowned out by friends and drink, but as if the dams of self control had run over, Fefnir was suddenly all too aware of the softness and grace of even the most ridiculous of motions. There was a fight he was desirous to see, and he forewent it in favor of drinking in something more than alcohol. Blame it on so many years apart from her, and so many years of cold resignation imposed by the responsibilities he'd had to take on, but the way he looked at her was the same way a man in a desert looks at an oasis, full of passion to draw closer to it and partake of its soothing, healing powers. To call it lustful would be too much; he wanted her body, certainly, and to be intimate with her, but what would truly speak to his spirit was to simply be with her, privately, without interruption and without hurry. Time was something they were all too short on, and he just wanted to have her to himself for some small portion of his limited breaks.
Though his first instinct at this point was to simply grab his lover and run away, that simply wouldn't do for a captain, and certainly not someone who generally liked everyone around the place, save for that stupid knight. It would just be plain rude to steal Amie away from her own party, and moreso to neglect giving a proper goodbye to Tezuka. Still, as animated as she was and as drunk as he was, it seemed to be the best option time and time again to get her to leave. And besides, the longer he waited, the fewer opportunities to escape the eyes of his stalker.
So, after downing his liquid courage, he placed his glass down solidly and said, "Hey, Amie... you wanna get outa here? S'much as I love to see idiots fight, we have 11th squad for that. Besides, I'd rather look at you than - no offense, Tez - a buncha sweaty, ugly drunks and miscreants. So whaddaya say?"X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X
Whoever writes in BLOOD,
_____Does not want to be READ
____________But LEARNED by HEART...
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