Jacob was growing tired of waiting. Gavril was MIA and Clare still hasn't contacted to him. He didn't care about being cautious anymore... He was going to make his move. He proceded to tatoo two birds and sent them to scout the area again. He sent one to the hut and sees that Clare was ok. "God, would it kill her to find some time to contact me?" He thought.
The other one spots four people away from the hut. Four vs one, the odds were against him, and more with Gant there. He didn't like the idea of facing that dangerous bastard alone, and less when he had support. Then again, he had those four corpses lying around there, he might as well use them. He takes control of the corpses and send them miles away from the camp, then he make them bath in mud and dirt, and after that he used the ink in the corpses to acelerate their age by a week, making them to trow off a latent heat- All this in the hope that Gant, being some kind of robot, had infrared vision and would notice them.
(OOC: This was always like this. Nothing you can say can convice me otherwise.)
edited 1st Mar '11 7:12:04 PM by eligram
Isaac soon fell asleep as well, and dreamed in a world of formulas, chemicals, and punk.
Aulde was a bit annoyed; perhaps Aleister had not heard his question. Or perhaps he didn't care to answer it. Still, he took a look at Isaac and Clare, slumped over together. In his native tongue, he sarcastically muttered, "how adorable." Then he turned to Aleister and said, "look at 'em. A right pair of lovebirds." Aulde lazily looked over Clare. If he slit her throat now, could he make it away in time? No, he thought not. The sha'hasul could wait.
Sleep... he vaguely remembered that. It had been so many years since he'd slept. Such a shame entering dreams required special preparation; it would have been a great way to make sure Clare never awoke. Perhaps trap her in eternal nightmare; that would have amused his dark lord. And his master could not whisper into human minds when they slept, unless they had sworn their souls to him, or a mage had made special preperations, specific to a target. He doubted he could steal blood from the sha'hasul, though. Had she really been the sha'hasul? Had she been the one to slay the oath-given?
H̱́e͔̍ͨͭ͗͆ȑ̌̾ͦͬ̑́ ͉̘̤̼͊ͦ̓̎ͅw̖͔̯͓ͧ́̽o̰̩̤ͫͬͪͦͯ̚r͍̭̺ͨͯ̒͛d͖͔ͭs̯̩͍͙̮̰̓ͩ̐͂̽ͅ ͂̊̽̂w̄̇̊̒́̚e̎ͭ̄̽ͮ̚r̔̎̈̒e̘̲͕ ͍̬͚͊ͬ̀͐̌͐͂ͅt͇̣̗̬͐̔͛̀̆ͩ̽ͅh̤͚̬͋ͯe ͛gui̞̜͋̌d͖̭͔̱̟͈̮̀ͫͫ͆ě̉͛͗͒̿̉ ͚̝̪̥̤͉̘͋ͣ̒͐͗tͯ͆o͎ ̳̮̰̱͑ͭ̿ő̦̭͓̬͒̔̀͆b̟͎͔̳̺̟̼̊̽ͪ̈ͭl͕͈i̙̳͙ͨ̿ͤͅv̹̤͚͍i̺̯͎̲ͫ͐̐͑ͅo̟̰ͤ̏ͭͥͣ͐ͫn̜̱͌̆.̹̿͗͋̎͋ Her words were the guide to oblivion.
She'd tried to grant peace to a dying woman, then, and for that "crime," the Eyes and Teeth demanded vengeance. Had Aulde been rational, he would have found this appalling. But his lord's will was not to be questioned, no matter how irrational it seemed to mortal minds. Whatever it took to get in the graces of his god. Still, best he not dally. He couldn't waste time.
Aulde turned to Aleister, and asked, more loudly than his previous question, "tell me, do you believe in life after death?" A smoky gravestone appeared in his hand, a skeletal figure with a scythe standing above it. He showed it to Aleister, as though offering it. "Do you believe there is something more..." a spirit rose up from the grave, "or is this all we have?" The skeleton sliced the spirit in half with his scythe, and it crumbled to ash. The skeleton then vanished, and only the grave remained, seeming to beckon towards Aleister.
edited 1st Mar '11 6:26:37 PM by KillerClowns
(OOC: I'm not sure if taking part in this thread is compatible with my uni schedule....)
Flinn gave Alice a withering look and moved out of reach of her hand. "Don't touch me," he said. Even the rudest of humans he'd encountered had never tried to do that.
"As worthy a reason as that is," he said, "I'm thinking no. For one thing, they're your foes, not mine. And for another, I suspect that all of you are completely fucking insane." He hesitated. Now that he was back in the forest, he was realising all over again that what he wanted to do was just short of impossible. The stone could be in any direction, any distance away.
"Tell you what," he said eventually. "Maybe I'll come, if you'll agree to help me find the way to get back to where I came from."
edited 1st Mar '11 6:46:41 PM by LoniJay
Be not afraid...Alice said, "deal. And for the record, I may be insane, but I'm not evil. Unlike the people trying to kill us — who, by the way, would probably mount your head as a trophy. Just for shits and giggles. At any rate, I'll help you get back to your home, which, I imagine, has far fewer scary biomechanical horrors and spear-toting assassins in bloodstained dresses. Which strikes me as a loss, but who am I to judge?" She grinned mischievously, then continued, "so, what will it take to get you home? The portals me and Izzy use only go to Earth and another planet, one with a distinct lack of small, mistrustful, furry creatures with no sense of humor. If you're looking for some kind of spaceship or rabbit-hole or mystic circle, it'll be no problem, but if the portal isn't visible until opened... that could be a pain in the ass."
edited 1st Mar '11 6:51:00 PM by KillerClowns
Aleister gazed wistfully at the smokey gravestone. "Let me tell you a story, friend. It's a sad story, but a real page turner. I think you'll like it."
He walked through the hut's door, brushing aside the veil of beads. Walking into the kitchen, he saw what he needed almost immediately in what he called his "organized mess". A small, portable campfire. He picked it up and a small canister of unlabeled fuel. He stepped outside into the inky black of night. Just at the boundary of the hut's light, he plopped the equipment down.
"And Aleister said let there be light!" He turned the rusty valve and fire sprang into existence, illuminating both his and Audle's faces. Satisfied that the appropriate mood had been set, Aleister pulled up half a log and sat on it, beckoning for Aulde to do the same.
"A good many years ago, there lived a small little gutter rat. An orphaned rat at that, his father taken forcibly from him, his mother gone to meet him. Yes, this pathetic little gutter rat was alone, without even the spirit of hope to whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Yes, hope had abandoned him. So instead, he lived on hate. Hate for the parents who abandoned him. Hate for the society that didn't care about him. Hate for the world which had cursed him. But you see..."
Aleister sliced open a can of tomato soup, swishing it like a fine wine in its can. "Hate destroys men. It clings to your back and whispers promises of power while it swells with your blood and crushes you with its weight. Not to say one cannot succeed with hate. I've seen many do it. But they are the ones with the strength to carry their bloated load on their backs each day. This gutter rat had no such strength. Eventually, hate collapsed upon him, and he faced the shadow of death. He lived like a ghost, alive but dead at the same time."
"But for this ghost, not all was lost. You see, this ghost was special. As soon as he was sure he'd die, he was saved. Saved by the very men at which his bloated hate was focused. He saw a new truth, and began to think that maybe there was hope for him, for the world. So he took that idea and ran with it. The ghost became a dog and swore he would use the life he had been given out of mercy to share that same mercy with others."
Aleister grew solemn. "But you see, the dog's masters didn't like that. Their dog didn't follow orders. It didn't jump when they said jump if you get my drift. So they sought to straighten their dog out. They sent him to war. There the dog saw the folly of his ways. His masters weighed him down with the burden of their decisions and the sin that came with them. He was their dog, their servant, their tool. A resource to used until the grime of its sin clogged up the works and it became useless. He had no choice, no way out but death. He again became filled with sadness and hate. The only thing that kept the dog going were the few friends he'd made on the battlefield. The dog was sad, close to broken, but he figured that as long as he had them, he could survive and one day make up for what he'd done."
"The dog was a fool. One day, the dog's most trusted friend betrayed him and robbed him of everything. His friends, his dreams, everything. The dog finally realized that this was it. He had no more reason to keep going. No more hatred, no more longing, no nothing. He wanted only sweet oblivion. But he was denied even that. Something, some cruel god, some cut string of fate saw fit for the dog to live and the one who had been his friend to die in his place. As the blood of everyone he loved soaked into the ground that night, the dog called out for someone to help him, for someone to save him. But no one cared to answer his plea. So the dog lived once more as a ghost, anchored to life yet wanting death."
He looked up and stared a hole into Aulde's face. "There is no reason for the things that happen to us. No greater plan, and certainly no god. At least, I hope not. Because really, what's scarier? The idea of nothing, of purposelessness and futility? Or the idea of a god so cruel and self-serving that they'd let a world like ours keep turning? In the end, we'll all die. Our deaths will be pointless and cruel, like our lives. The only comfort I have left is that when I do die, I won't have to feel the pain of my own existence anymore. I won't have to go on living with the fact that every second I continue to breath, someone else suffers for it. I just won't have to care. And if any god dares deny me that, I'll topple their heaven and bring it down on my own head. Maybe then I'll find my peace."
He sloshed the cold tomato soup down his throat and it dripped down his neck like fresh drops of blood. He walked back to the hut, leaving the campfire. "Save your wishes. I need them not."
edited 1st Mar '11 8:41:57 PM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serialIanto remained still during Alice's intrusion of his space, though, after she removed his hand from his face, he recoiled slightly. He found that sort of behaviour untoward; it reminded him of his brother's business partner, Emil, who had little sense of personal space, though Emil would never have been so... blunt. An uncomfortable gesture or two, maybe a lingering pat on the back, and always the lewd, sinister jokes between them - to their mutual amusement and his brother's misery - but never that indifferent invasion of space. He was perplexed.
Further to the point, he resented being called a werewolf. Yes, the principle was the same... Nonetheless. Wrong. Always wrong.
The Sicilian levitated to his side. Ianto was unsurprised by this development.
"I don't have the faintest idea, boy."
Cagily, he took the knife, sliding it into his left pocket. With his thoughts, he spoke back, hushed:
"Thank you. A telepath, too? What are you?"
edited 1st Mar '11 9:03:15 PM by JHM
I'll hide your name inside a word and paint your eyes with false perception.(OOC: To clarify: the "Zalgo voice" is not Aulde's thoughts, but rather, those of a Sigil who is serving as the intermediary between him and the Eyes and Teeth, which is too bizarre to communicate with humans directly, save for occasional bursts such as Aulde's vision.)
Aulde smashed the gravestone in his hand with a scowl of frustration.
A̜̻̹̟ͯ̊̍ͭͪ̅ͧ ̺̰̘͚̓pͨ͗ͩ͑̿ĩ̤̣͚t͍̆ͣ̆̋̒̓̉yͭ̍.̌ ͙̖̝̖͒͒̎̿ͪ̍̈́ ͉̦͚̟͂͗̌̐͛͛H̞͙̣͋̾̀̎͋e͉̦͊́ ̞̫͙̤̂̾ͧẖ͖ͬ̐̅ͫ̓ͧͅa͔̮ͫd̙̻̠̭̳͎͍͆ ͖̤̠̻̣̩̑ͬp͕̮̫͎̗͕̑̐ͣ̓ͩ͆̚o͕̦̻̘̤̱̤̓́ͮ̀ͩͪͦt̗̘̬͇̤̞̃̓̌́e͍̠ͥ͑nͧ̍͒t̤̟͎̺̠̞ͫ̓͐ͫi̳̘̬̺̗̘͊͋̑̇̂a̝̠̹̬̜͓ͭͩ̓ͩͯ͋ͅl͍̲͔͈̼̲̜̓̾͊.̦͑̄ͨ̈̈́̚̚ A pity. He had potential.
Yes, yes he did. Then Aulde realized Aleister was no longer watching. He considered Clare... he had a utility knife in his pocket. One quick slash was all it would take...
Ŵ̦̰̠͆̇̊̿̅̓a̪ͣ̎ͦͫ̆͛i͎̬͚̤̝̝t̀ͨ͛̚.͙̰̼͇͂͐͌ Wait.
He stopped, confused. Then he felt his lord: not the Sigil that he normally spoke with, but the Eyes and Teeth itself. An awe-inspiring presence. The Eyes and Teeth did not speak to him directly — it never did, and he wasn't sure if it could. Instead, it seared a vision into his mind's eye. He saw Clare inside the hut, putting a bullet through the brain of the man with red hands with one pistol, then slaying a small woman in a white dress with another. She pointed the pistols, one at Isaac and the other at a small, furry humanoid, and spoke with a smirk: "Have you seen the beautiful city of Vienna? Vienna.. Vienna.. city of my dreams, Laughter and music and stars that shine? Yes? I visited there twice. Such a marvelous atmosphere! And their orchestra.. my! People say you ought to have been there, before you die. You will miss much otherwise." The vision then fades. He desperately thinks, what... what was that?
M͓͓͎̱ͭ̈́ͪ̈͑y̗̗̾̿̍̾ ͚̠̭̺̼̈́ͥl̪̗̼͎̫̣̓͐̓̊ͪ̚o̩̬̜̩͍̙͓ͧ̽r̦d͊̔ ͣ̐s͖̰͉̰̊̆ͧ̎ͦ͗̾e̼̼̗̻̩͉ͦ̎̆ͧ̄eͧ̽ͮͮͧͬš̮̯͚͓͛ ̹̭̙̭͋̈ͪ͂ͣ͑ͯa̮̖͋͆̽̒ͧl̯̫͓̍̌ͬͅl̟̣̠͍͖̈ ̝̤̪̞͍͓̔̌͂͑̓̾t͖͔̤̠ͬh͎̦͉̓̓a͉̦̠͊̔ͪ͂t͍̻̭͓̙̠͖͌ͯ̾͒̄̅ ͉̬͎̜̳͉̆̇ͤ̚w̼͙͈̯ͨͯͦ̈́̀̏as̺͈͕͌̌̈́ͤ́͊̃.̹̩̩͍̳͚̭͆̓ ̼̭͔̞͚̲̽̒ͧ͂ͩ̚ ̖̖͔̯̬͗͐̂ͅA̙̯̳͉͍̫̋̅͛͊ͧͯ̄l̠̰̩̜l̫̪̱̙̘͇̦͐ ͓̮̰̗̪͓͗͌t̗̙͉͈̘̮ͨ͐h͉͚̐͊̎͂͆̽̽a͙̥̜͆t̟͙͕̪ͦ͊ ̟͚̩̅ͩͨ̔͗͋͆ỉ͑͛͆ͮͤͨs̩̗̲̝̈ͭ̏ͥ.̺̟̖͔̯͇ ͚̭̩̬̌ ̮̾̈́Ḁͭ͂̏̍̔̚̚l͈̭̅͒̅̌̑ͧ̆ľ̮̯̥̤̘̦͊ͧ̏ ͕̤̗ͫ̄̍̍tͫ͂͋h̋̾̓̚a̪͕̞̬̦̅͆̓ț̩̹̉̄ͬ ̼͕ͭ͑̈́̇ͤ̓w͙̘̞̬͍̯͛ͩ̓̓̔͐ͅi̞̩̖̹̓͋ľ̠̹̰̬͚ͮͧͧ̓l͈̮̗ ̪͔̱̌̌̅b̰̳̿ͪ̓͆̽e͓̥.̑̾ͨ̿̽̚ ̖̮̆̎ͦ̚ ̩͍ͨͤ̇̉ͫA̪ͨn̐̓̏d̼̪̯̋.͒̅͊̓̎̂.̠̞̂̇̽.̓͆ ̼̎a͖̱̪̩̖̟ͬ̓̉̎l̰̻̑̂̔̿ͣ͑ͥl̾͗̂͌̌ ̠̮͈̗̾ͧ̋ͣ̋ț͍̤̺̹͕̒ͦ̈́h̫ͭa̺͚̦ͨ̐̊̚t͙̞͐ͥͯͬͥ̈́ ̜ͯ͛c͖̬̩̤̜̀͛͆̿̍ͅo̗̾̽͑̅̋̎u͎͓̾l͖̉d̗̟̗̱̞͚͗̄̾ͦ͆ͅ ͈̺̩̞h̥̱̗̟̳͈̞ͭ͋ͤ̂͆a͇͓͚̫̙͉v͈̞̞ͧ͑ͨ̓̚e͎̝̭ͥ͗̓ͩ ̜͖̙̦ͭ̂ͬ͑ḅ͓̊e̩̱̰ͬ̈́ͬë̥̬̠̮́ͅñ͈ͭ̀.̳ͥ̈̓̂ͣ̿ My lord sees all that was. All that is. All that will be. And... all that could have been.
Suddenly, he understood exactly what needed to be done.
Meanwhile, Alice, ignore Ianto's annoyance, said, "alright, boys and girls. Well, boys. Come along: you can chit-chat when we're at the apothecary. Let's move, people. She darted towards the south, but reappeared not too long later. In a whisper she said "hey... we got company. 'Bout nine of 'em. Mercs, or Heralds, or something. AK-47s, musclebound. Heading this way. Y'all care to give us a show? Try and share, boys: can't have one of you hogging all the fun."
edited 1st Mar '11 10:15:11 PM by KillerClowns
(OOC: Oh he mad XD)
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial(OOC: Ach, the Zalgo voice is back! Oh, demonic entity, what fun we'll have together...)
I'll hide your name inside a word and paint your eyes with false perception.(OOC: Huzzah, action time.)
Gant nods to Alice, and slinks off through brush, switching his sword for a simple bludgeon, a meter-long stick covered in short spines. Waiting for the others to catch up, he moves to the place where he can feel a pattern in the tremors of the earth. At last, still hovering between thick curtains of vegetation, he sees them, a well-organized group, seeking something out; their weapons are lowered, scanning the brush for a sign of movement. However they are merely human.
By the time on of them hears a noise and feels something warm land on his neck, the man behind him is no longer recognizable, his face caved in by a blow capable of splitting a car's engine. For a moment, all is idyllic, the forest's sounds blending with a gentle trickle of blood, before chaos breaks loose and they spin around, trying to find what precisely is happening. They are still confused.
Gant smiles at Alice. "Please. Make your choice from any of these remnants. I took the burden of removing the least capable one, just for you." he leans on his stick, waiting to see what his companions can do.
edited 1st Mar '11 10:16:29 PM by Morgulion
This is this.(OOC: Ahaha, I'm really bad at action scenes...)
Bullets shedded the foliage as the panicked soldiers opened fire. Flinging his shield up in anticipation, Flinn only just deflected them.
Shit, he thought, staring at the gleaming white shield. It was intact, but that had been a lot of force behind those tiny missiles. What were those?
He pushed the thought to one side. Worry later. Ducking behind a tree for extra cover, he let the shield drop for a second and sent a beam of energy out to slice into the chest of one of the enemy soldiers.
edited 2nd Mar '11 3:37:30 AM by LoniJay
Be not afraid...(OOC: Whohoo! :D)
"Flinn, was it?" he telepathed back. "Those aren't missiles, those are bullets. They have enough force behind them to shatter bone and pierce metal. Be careful."
He decided to reply to Ianto. "Yes. As you can see, I don't have a mouth in this form. And as for what I am... let's say an 'alien virus' did it."
Vince flew a little closer so he could get a better look, the ridge on his face glowing as he scanned the brush and flew higher, minimizing the chance of him hitting someone on his side as well as drawing their attention away to the flying humanoid alien. He separated his four tentacle-arms, bending them around inwards toward the crystal in his chest as an energy of some sort collected and grew into an orb, which he flung at the soldiers. It hit one soldier directly, causing the poor guy's circulatory system to explode.
edited 2nd Mar '11 5:34:49 AM by CrystalGlacia
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."One of the terrified mercenaries attempted to flee into the woods. Crouching in the undergrowth, Alice lazily stuck her spear out and tripped him. He hit the ground face first, and Alice severed his spinal cord at the base of his neck with a well placed stab.
Five to go, she counted. This was a slaughter, but Alice suspected the next lot wouldn't roll over and die quite so easily.
edited 2nd Mar '11 7:34:16 AM by KillerClowns
Once she is sure she can hear Issac snore, Clare perks open an eye and sees him slump on her. She lays his head off of her.
Then Issac starts to rise into the air. She's carrying him in her arms. He is lifted into the hut with her. No words are spoken.
Clare finds a single lay of mattress somewhere in one of the hut's bedrooms and leaves him there.
At last, in the living room where the fire begins to flicker, she lays herself on one of the furry rugs and lets herself go.
Gant looks at the others. they had already taken one man each- time for him to pick his next target. The largest and toughest of them has already emptied his magazine into the woods, and Gant walks out into the light again, lazily catching the swing and snapping the blade with a momentary tightening of his fist. As the man stumbles back, Gant catches him by the collar of the shirt, casting him down like an animal.
At this point, there are bullets spattering harmlessly from his chest and back, and he presses a heavy knee into the fallen man, smashing his fists into the mercenary's chest and face with mechanical regularity and a purely human savagery. By the time the corpse stops twitching, he is anointed in crimson regalia, and he thrusts a hand into the man's chest, shunting aside the ribs and crushing the pulsating sack of muscle within.
just as slowly he walks off, flicking his hand, the monofilament that he had tightened about a man's hand snapping tightly, a parting gift. Well, there is no good in indulgence, and he steps back, allowing the rest of them to do their magic.
This is this.Sounds like the fun's already begun. Aleister thought to himself. He sighed heavily, and looked back to the forest.
"Hello Damien."
"Awww, what gave me away?" A gaunt figure stepped out of the bushes. His black cloak slowly ripped out from under the bushes, like it was attached to the forest shadows.
"You can be a real killjoy. But to me, that's just part of your charm, Aleister."
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serialPanicked yells, very close by. Then, sounds of gunfire. There was quite a battle going on out there.
A projectile struck a tree a few meters from where Kibest was standing, causing it to crack. It wasn't safe here. If he stayed standing there was every chance he, too, would be cut down by a stray bullet. He dropped to the floor, listening intently, but there were no discernable words, just noise and confusion.
Who could it be? Prusee's goons? Or cartels, maybe? Was he somewhere with cartels?
There was no way he could just rush in there. He'd be gunned down in seconds, and in any case, he had no revolver and no phone. He had no means to defend himself, no way of contacting anybody, and nobody knew he was here except maybe Prusee's people. He'd even lost his hat.
Still, there was nothing to be gained from doing nothing, and curiosity was a bitch. He resolved to hide in the undergrowth until the fighting stopped, and then investigate. Cautiously.
But not yet.
Welcome To TV Tropes | How To Write An Example | Text Formatting Rules | List Of Shows That Need Summary | TV Tropes Forum | Know The StaffOne of the things Aulde had learned was fortune-telling with tarot cards. He was no master, but his theatrical approach — an oddity among the usually subtle mages — had benefited from this additional skill. He didn't believe such primitive methods could really tell fortunes; instead he "stacked the deck" to achieve his ends. Not through sleight of hand, though this was another skill he possessed. Instead, his cards were blank; he painted them with illusions to ensure the proper results. He placed a ten of swords, upright, by Clare with a smile. He went to Isaac and placed a queen of cups, reversed, by his sleeping head. He doubted the scientist would care, but Aulde figured it was best not to leave him out. Finally, a card for himself: the Fool.
W̭ͣ̄̿̔̓̍͐h̪̣̩̦̥ͣa͍̠͙̼̰͐ͯ͑ͨͩͅt̄͑̄̾ͨͩ̃ ̤ͪͥ͂̃͗̽d̻̬̗͔̆̂̍o͊ͫ̏ͣ ̖̻̈́ͦ̊̑y͈̤̗͌́̾ͯ̌̎o̺͉̟̣̼u̫͒̔̃̄̈́ ͎͂͋ͮ̌́h͈̪͊̅ͭͨ̔͌õ̝̘̺͍̦̺̱͆̀p̦̠ͬ̉̍͑̃e̻̮̝̯̬͉͋ͬ̌̉̅ ̤͚̝̫̗̟̒ͨ̈́̂t̬̭̘̅o̩͍͕͎̞͓̙͗͂̌̓ ̯̘̜ā̉c͎̔ͤh̹͎̳̭͑̒͋̐i͆̐̆e͕̝̩̰͖̖̜͋̆̏ͭv͕̤̲̪̯͇̦͂ḙ̻͂̉ ͬ̀̔̾w̗̥͌͑͊̉iͯͥ̾ͯ̌t̤̯̯̞̻̟͒͐h̥̱ͥ̎̄ͮ̓̍ ̉̾̾ͣ̅̚t̜̩̗̟̝̬̦̊ͯ͒̀̔ͪ̄h͉͇̜ͅe̙̣̼s̲̥͎̦̠̠̝̍̓̑e͍̊͗̉ ͕̙̻͕̅ͦͦ̈̔̆g͈̰͕̱͍̤a̪̲̲ͪ̐͛̀̇̾m͉͓̜̘͑̑̊͐e̦̒͂ͮ̀ͤs̲͎̹̎̄̇ͦ̈́ͨ?ͮ̅ͮ̔ͧ What do you hope to achieve with these games?
Oh, come now, he thought. Can't I be allowed to toy with them for a bit? Can't I enjoy my job?
He glanced at the fool card in his hand: it had suddenly taken on a sickly appearance. He attempted to change the illusion on it, but to no avail. Though only he could see the card's foreboding change — anyone else would see it as healthy as ever — the message was perfectly clear to Aulde. He gulped, and thought, yes, yes, my lord. Understood.
He went outside and noticed Aleister's new companion. He gave the man a polite smile and said, "quite a snappy dresser, aren't you?" Then he turned to Aleister and said, "care to introduce me to your friend here?" Then, turning back to Damien, he said, "your friend Aleister... interesting man. No sense of curiosity, though." He conjured a chest in the palm of his hand, which slowly began to open towards Damien. "Offer him a peek of something wonderful..." the chest slammed shut audibly, and then vanished in a puff of smoke. "...and he decides to stick with the familiar. Oh well." He tucked a Magician card in Aleister's pocket, and offered Damien a two of swords.
edited 2nd Mar '11 10:44:54 AM by KillerClowns
"That sounds like him, alright. Once he gets attached to something, BAM! He just won't let go! Such a cute little child, wouldn't you agree?" Damien said in a sing song voice.
Aleister stood stock still. "What business do you have here, Damien?" The question was terse, and spat through gritted teeth.
Damien recoiled a little. "Oh you wound me, Aleister, really. And here I came to pay you a visit. You seemed so sad out here all by your lonesome. Your friend here even told me so!"
A small edge of cloak still stuck to the underbrush dragged itself out from the darkness. It had been looped and tied around the bloated neck of a dead soldier. The cloak, seeming more and more like it's own entity than an article of clothing, lifted the corpse up in the air for all to see.
"Isn't that right, Mr. Bojangles? 'Yeah, that's right!'" Damien sang mockingly, moving the blue lips with his fingers like a marionette. Damien tossed the body back into the forest along with scraps of his cloak. It was out of sight, but the wet crunching and mashing made the picture just a little too clear.
"Get out. Now." Aleister warned him. He tried to keep the rising panic in his stomach under control. If it were just him and Damien, he could take him easy and rid himself of the little shit. But then again, Damien never was that accomadating.
With all these people around... I gotta solve this diplomatically.
"Leave, Damien." He just had to buy it this once. Just this once.
But Damien would have none of it. "Sorry Aleister, but I came all this way to play with you. I'm afraid you won't get rid of me that easily. As a matter of fact, I'm almost insulted you thought a pathetic little show like that would do you any good. I'm so offended that I might just have to break a few of these lovely people to get all the anger out. Sounds like fun, right?"
edited 2nd Mar '11 10:51:59 AM by KSPAM
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial(OOC: Ok, let me see the situation.
First the good guys. We have Gant, a powerfull robot (?) who can and will kick our ass. Then we have Alistair, Also a robot (?) in the same level as Gant. We have Vince, who is infected by a Legendary pokémon wich make him godlike. Flinn, who has protective barriers. Ianto, a Werewolf and Alice, a Baddas normal.
Now with the villians, we have Aulde, who is working alone to invoke his master, and wants to kill Clare. Then we have Clare, a Magnificent bastard and badass normal (No idea if she has powers...) wich identity as the mole is know by Gant. Then we have Gavril, an Omnicidal Maniac that has his own agenda and honestly dosen't have a shit about all this. Looking at the situation we can probably add Damien to the list. And finally we have Jacob, the only one from the Herald with powers to confront anyone, but won't do because Clare won't let him. Oh, and not only 3 people is inmune to his poison, but the enemy is working in a cure for it too... And the Eyes and the teeth if either Aulde or Gavril ever gets to summon it.
Can I be the first one to say that is starting to suck for the bad guys?
I was thinking on introducing more villains as backup so that I can take a more active role sending them to attack Gant and company withot having to worry about my other two characters. And you could have fun killing them.
On another note... I'm a little lost, Can we have a recap about where everybody is and with who they are?
I mean, wasn't Kibest heading to where the explosion happened? I was expecting that...)
edited 2nd Mar '11 12:54:03 PM by eligram
(OOC: I think you have the general idea about everyone, but you forgot about Isaac Rose, the biochemist. If you'd like, go read about his backstory somewhere around post... 275.
Right now, it seems as though we have two groups of heroes- one has headed out to go find an apothecary to make an antidote for the poison, and the other group has stayed behind at Aleister's little hut.
Vince, Gant, Alice, and now Ianto and Flinn are in the first group, and they have just encountered a group of enemy soldiers some ways away from the hut, and are now taking turns killing the soldiers.
Isaac, Aleister, Damien, and Clare are in the second group. Isaac has just fallen asleep and Clare has... "let herself go", quote. Aleister, Damien, and Alude are having a little altercation outside the hut. All of the other villains are hiding out somewhere deeper in the woods.
Yeah, I think that's it.)
edited 2nd Mar '11 11:46:09 AM by CrystalGlacia
"Jack, you have debauched my sloth."(OOC: Aleister and Damien aren't machines. Just superhumans with godhax. Other than that, so far we've split into two groups, one filled with combatants looking for the mysterious Blaue-Rouge at a local apothecary and a group of noncombatants, currently back at camp trying to keep Damien from wrecking shit.)
I've got new mythological machinery, and very handsome supernatural scenery. Goodfae: a mafia web serial

The only questions Clare has to offer is her light snores on Issac's shoulder. Her eyelids have perched at resting point halfway through Issac's recollections, though if she had another ounce of energy to keep awake, she would have said, "You deserve so much better."
Her head rouses up and down with her soft breathing.
(OOC: That is some bedtime story.)
edited 1st Mar '11 6:02:12 PM by QQQQQ