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Post by Strife on Jan 6, 2010 1:04:24 GMT -5
((Spacefleet HQ - Arboretum))
A plain silver door sweeped open, and Haggoth stepped inside the lush forest of Spacefleet's arboretum. Not surprisingly, he could see plants from every angle, on almost every surface. The most noticeable plants of all were an army of small trees in metal pots that were bolted to the floor in nice, clean rows.
Although he figured Cyclops would like crawling around here, this wasn't where Haggoth was headed. He was certain that the little green slug was hanging out in the botanist laboratory at the other end of the room. At least, he better be. The hog-man had allergies to most of the stuff in his room, and he didn't feel like pushing his snout into every little shrub to see where the subcommander was hiding.
Quickly, he marched across the room while rubbing his snout. For some reason, putting pressure on the top of the snout helped fend off sneezes whenever he felt them coming. While continuing to do this, he extended his free hand in front of him and punched a few buttons on the wall panel in front of him. Another door to his immediate right flipped open, and he walked inside.
"Cyclops?" he said with a raised voice, looking around at the various test tubes and chemical substances. He took his hand off his nose and started looking around.
After about half a minute of aimless wandering and shouting of names, Haggoth heard a light splashing noise near the center of the lab. He rushed over and noticed that the sound was coming from one of the larger glass containers. He looked inside the container, and sure enough, Cyclops was inside it.
Cyclops wasn't what you would call your average subcommander. Matter of fact, he was the only non-humanoid officer in the entire Fleet. His body was made completely of a liquidy green sludge that looked no different than your average household chemical. In addition, a single eyeball about twice the size of a human being's always floated around in the liquid, providing his only means of seeing the world in front of him. Without technology, he could only communicate through telepathy or by blinking in Morse code. The former proved to be very useful in many of Spacefleet's affairs, and combined with his high intelligence, made him a valuable officer under Commander Strife. When Keng became the new Commander (and subsequently Fraze), his duties were greatly reduced, leaving him without much to do except spend vacation time in the arboretum absorbing his favorite botanical secretions.
Currently, Cyclops' eye had been jumping up and down in the glass container in order to grab Haggoth's attention, as it would be quite difficult to spot him among the rows of other liquids in containers.
"Get out of your sauna, slime bag," grunted Haggoth with annoyance, bending down so his eyes met Cyclops. "I need to talk to you. Now."
The green liquid quickly seeped over the edge of the container and landed with a flop on the table. He then slid his way towards the opposite end of the table, carrying his eye with him. He eventually stopped at what looked like the chest portion of a suit of Spacefleet armor, climbed up the side of it, and poured himself into the neck hole where the head would normally be. After adjusting his eye to face Haggoth, he began to use the armor's built-in speech software to talk like a humanoid.
"What is it, Subcommander?" said Cyclops in a wavey, computerized voice. A red light on the front of the chestpiece flickered with each syllable.
"Do you have to talk all weird like that?" said Haggoth, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.
"Do you not understand me sufficiently?"
"Yes, I do, but it annoys the crap out of me."
Cyclops' eye rolled. He blinked once, ordering the suit to change its voice font.
"Very well," responded Cyclops in the voice of a middle-aged man with a thick British accent. "Need I ask you again what the urgency of your visit entails?"
"Someone pumped a virus into the satellite network. Communication with the surface is impossible, but we need to relay information about the virus to the Commander immediately."
"I presume that you've come here to seek my telepathic assistance in contacting Commander Fraze?"
Haggoth paused for a moment, briefly surprised. "Can you do it or not?"
"I am afraid I haven't attempted telepathic connections at such great distances. I would need a device to amplify my signals without degrading them during transfer. If possible, the device would also need to keep the signal concentrated with minimal offset."
"And in English?"
"This isn't English enough for you?" Cyclops could not laugh, so there was a pause where a chuckle would normally be. "I apologize for my crude humanoid joke. What I mean is that I need a device that will allow me to contact Fraze, and Fraze alone. It may cause confusion if my message reached nearby lifeforms in the process."
"I'm pretty sure one of our boys could build something like that. This old bunker is the pride of the entire star system." Haggoth knocked twice on a metal pillar beside him.
"Excellent. I will accompany you and provide assistance where required."
The chestpiece started to rumble, and within seconds, two arm pieces and two leg pieces were pulled magnetically towards it from opposite sides of the room, almost knocking over a few beakers in the process. Once they clamped into place, Cyclops slowly and cautiously got up in his suit of armor like an old man who just spent a few days on a hospital bed. The armor as a whole stood well above Haggoth in height.
"Lead the way, subcommander."
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Post by Fraze on Jan 6, 2010 2:43:24 GMT -5
((Hills and hills of beavers, as far as the eye can see)) The flechette blast was mostly ineffective. The enemy summoned a small tornado directly above Fraze. Medium size, wouldn't do any real harm if he got caught in it but would disorient him temporarily. He quickly "kicked" three times (which, given that his legs below the knee were clamped firmly to the vehicle by force fields, meant that he made an effort to stomp his heels), and the spacebike accelerated at 1.5 G away from the tornado--the largest allowable linear acceleration planetside on hands-free mode. The enemy had stopped, perched on a rooftop surveying the damage. Fraze turned to look, and was sickened by the destruction. This was far from the most damage to a city he had seen, but this was a city under his protection. Wasn't she going to do anything? Or was she gloating? No, she was waiting. Fraze hated making the first move. Of course, much of his work before coming to Spacefleet involved making the first move--indeed, the only move, much of the time. In this case, making the first move would only prolong the battle and cause even more damage to the city. If he could find some way to lure the attacker out of the city, this would be preferable. But as long as she refused to attack, he would do the same. He flew round the scene of the battle in an increasing radius, surveying the damage. When he once again passed over the pirate crew, the blarf was now curled up and rolling, knocking down buildings in a desperate attempt to wound the dragon. He wanted to stop it, wanted to calm it down and just have it walk away. He had learned that, frequently, this was the best defense. But it wouldn't have made any difference, he knew. The opening bars of Uninstall began picking at his mind, and he found it necessary to blink several times. Wait, what was this? Nononono. Flying around looking at things and feeling sad wouldn't help. Something was clearly starting. Several somethings, and both Spacefleet and this planet needed him. Backup. Yes, backup was what they needed. But with communications down, this would mean flying to the 'Fleet (half an hour), getting troops (half an hour), and going back (one hour). Too long. The Spaceport? Well, short-range communications still worked, so it was worth a try. "This is Commander Fraze. There's an attack on Tabloid Town, and as I'm sure you're aware by now, communications are down between the planet and the 'Fleet. Are there any grounded troops that can be sent in to help?" The answer came quickly. "There's an armed dropship manned by technicians, but it's already been called to help. By a...Professor Amneiger. He asked for help in removing him from...somewhere...and then aiding in defending against the attack." Ah, that was good. And probably indicated Amnei was all right, relatively speaking. He turned the spacebike toward the spaceport and accelerated over the rooftops, climbing to around 500 feet elevation. "Excellent. Have they left yet?" "No, sir, they just received the message about a minute ago. Just about done gearing up, they'll be off soon." "Have them bring all the equipment they've got, even if it's extra weight." Fraze intended to get ground troops here as soon as possible, and extra weaponry would mean less time to prepare them. "I'll pass the message along." "Good, that will be all." After a few more minutes of flying, he saw the dropship. Searching comm frequencies, he quickly found theirs. "This is Commander Fraze. What do you know about our situation?" There was a slight pause before a reply. "Uhh...not much, sir. Something about a dragon attacking Tabloid Town and Comm-er, Strife returning, and rescuing a professor from a pile of rubble." Blunt and straightforward, but by no means inaccurate. "The dragon appears to be a shapeshifter who can alternate instantaneously between human and dragon forms. There does not appear to be any perceivable lag between the two. The dragon is some fifteen meters across, from wingtip to wingtip. It appears from my observations"--meaning the flechette burst that missed horribly--"that when it transforms from dragon to human form, the human remains in the spot where the dragon's chest and head were. ((Celestial--if this is wrong, say something and I'll correct it.)) Keep this in mind when aiming, as it may transform to avoid being hit. It first attacked from an opening in the Underdeep, and at one point momentarily retreated into that opening, so it appears that it may be connected in some way with the Underdeep. "Commander Strife"--Fraze hesitated a moment after using this title, but decided to continue--"has indeed returned. We have formed a temporary alliance with him, and he seems to intend to keep it. However, you should know without me telling you to keep your guard up around him. As for Professor Amneiger, he is buried under the remnants of a house where we were first attacked. You should be able to track him by his comm. Once you have found and helped him, do as he says." He said all of this as quickly as possible while remaining coherent. He waited while the dropship crew digested this new information. "Understood, sir." He realized that placing a crew under the professor's command might have been a bit of a burden. However, not only did he trust Amneiger's judgment, but he was coming to realize that he would have to delegate, because he could only do so many things at once. "One more thing. Do you have any of the new personal shields? Wrist mounted?" "Hold on a moment while we check, sir." There was a pause, with yelling and moving of objects in the background. "Yes," came a response, "a crate of them." "Good," Fraze answered. "Open the door and give me two. Give one to Professor Amneiger once you get to him." He maneuvered so that he was right next to the dropship hatch. There was an affirmative response, followed by another pause before the hatch opened slightly. A confused and rather scared-looking technician reached out, keeping a tight grip on the doorframe. Fraze grabbed the shields from him--which looked like glorified bulky wristwatches minus the display--and gave him a thumbs-up. The hatch closed again. Fraze strapped one on his left wrist. It generated a miniature personal shield extending about two feet from the user in all directions, effectively enclosing the user in a bubble. ((NOTE: These shields are the same as those introduced by Keng in Redemption; I played with the specifications a bit so that they would make more sense.)) Fraze contacted Amneiger again. "Amnei, I'm sorry I cut you short. Are you still all right? The dropship you called is on its way, they'll come to pick you up soon. You'll be in charge of them, if you think you can handle it. Can you?" While doing so, he turned away from the dropship and accelerated toward the previous site of the battle. No one he recognized was there, but the trail of destruction was easy enough to follow. Somewhere behind him, an airtight padded capsule about as long as a person's forearm and some six inches across fell from the sky. It was well on its way to its target destination. When it was close to the surface, it released a small parachute, slowing and eventually floating gently to the ground. The label on it read "Neck-Mounted Voice Synthesizer." It landed on a severely damaged lawn outside of what had once been the house of a former Spacefleet scientist.
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Post by Jina on Jan 6, 2010 6:15:01 GMT -5
Tabloid Town Hospital Halin looked around the corner just as the Phantom Merc ran over someone. ...Huh. This might actually turn out the way we wanted it to in the first place.
He pulled back, and started to think about his next move. Then, he noticed something odd. The Underdeep, on the roof, where it wasn't supposed to be.
He ran around the back, and found Sandra. "I need you to get me on the roof."
Sandra nodded, and turned into a troll. She picked him up, swung him around, and threw him up at the roof. Then, she transformed back.
Halin flew up, then came down, and rolled on landing. He hit hard, but would get nothing worse than a few bruises. He looked up at where the Underdeep was, and saw Celestial.
"Ah. I assume, as a fellow servant of the Underdeep, that you are here to help us?"
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Post by Huntress on Jan 6, 2010 12:15:23 GMT -5
((The Hills have Beavers))
"Um, Captain? I-I think we need to hurry."
Hunty, dropping three small coins on the table, nodded. "In a minute, kid. People don't usually leave taverns all too fast. Let's count our losses first and see if everyone's still in one piece."
Zagora picked the coins up with an absent look on her face. She'd remained focused on the bones scattered on the table.
"Yes," she said. "You zhould hurree."
Hunty, knowing full well that Zagora, like most other really good witches, tended to be vague but fully reliable, turned her head sharply to look at her. "Is this going to cost me another three shinies?"
"Mm, well," said the witch, quickly slipping the coins somewhere into the folds of her skirts. "Zees advice I give to you gratis for nozheeng. Follow ze dragon."
The captain breathed in with a hiss, then threw her hands up. "Can we get a curse put on that dragon, what do you think?"
"Five zhousand zhinees."
"Thought so. Have a nice day then."
As Hunty stepped out into the rather sad-looking street, a nearby shop sign fell into the dirt with a thud. Narrative laws at work again. The Sue-sword liked to do that when it was still under the influence of a recent battle. On the bright side, this definitely meant that the battle was over.
"All right, boys," she said, looking around a little guiltily, knowing full well that she'd been pretty useless in this showdown. "How is everyone? No permanent damage? All clear, boy."
"Blarbgbp." The huge furry spikeball in the middle of the street unfolded cautiously and the blarf staggered to his feet. He looked a little dizzy.
"Well, I guess it's back to the road, then," Hunty said, looking down the street where a few people were already hazarding a look out of their houses. "Let's go find Rane, see if we can end this once and for all, maybe steal me a new crossbow while we're at it, I reckon none of you remembered to grab it when we left the mansion, right? And all my spares are back on the ship." She grabbed the blarf's paw fur and heaved herself up.
"Zees Rane," Zagora said behind her, "be careful viz him. For vot you vant most, zere iz a cost must be paid in ze end." She'd come out of the shop and was now leaning against the doorjamb, watching the ragtag battle-party with that same airy no-concern-of-mine smile she always had. "If anyvun vants ointments for zeir vounds, I sell a very good vun for fifty zhinees. If not... head vest as you reach ze Silver Ring tavern, zat's all I'm suggesting."
((Silver Ring to Tabloid Town Hospital))
Throughout the whole dragon-ride to the hospital, Rane remained oddly quiet. He sat there on Celestial's back with his head rested on his hands and a kind of inwards scowl on his face, apparently deep in thought.
When the dragon landed and sealed his hands again, he came along without a fuss. If anything, he looked vaguely curious.
"So, um," he said rather meekly, looking around, "are you gonna tell me what this is all about, by any chance?"
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Post by Amneiger on Jan 6, 2010 16:01:15 GMT -5
((Merpo is never going to be able to convince an insurance company to sell him a policy again))
"Yes, I'm fine. I think I can handle it. I pick up Strife, make sure he doesn't leave our sight, and then try to find the dragon. I saw some big shapes on the horizon a few minutes ago; I'll be heading in that direction first."
There was a soft thump somewhere near him. Amneiger looked around and saw the capsule on the ground. He picked it up. "'Neck-Mounted Voice Synthesizer.' This should help us convince Strife to get on the dropship."
The dropship came low over some nearby houses and lowered itself down on Merpo's front lawn. A technician opened the door, looked around, and saw Amneiger. "Sir? I thought you were - "
"I dug myself out." He climbed onboard the dropship and closed the door behind him. There were three technicians onboard: two of them in the cockpit, and one in the main cabin area. Ther cabin was filled with labeled boxes of weapons. "We're going to find Strife, bring him on board, and then find that dragon. Have you all armed yourselves?"
They all shook their heads.
"Right." Amneiger opened a box of submachine guns. "Each of you, take one of these and two spare magazine. If something bad happens, we might need them. Now, head in that direction." He pointed out the windshield. "I saw combat there a few minutes ago. We can look for clues there."
"Sir, Commander Fraze said we should give you this."
Amneiger took the wrist shield. "Thank you. Anything else?" When nobody responded, he continued. "Let's move out."
The dropship lifted off and headed towards Zagora's shop, the blarf, and Commander Strife.
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Post by Rider on Jan 6, 2010 16:39:35 GMT -5
[glow=red,2,300]Tabloid Town[/glow]
A non-committal shrug. That's all she got from him before he proceeded to ignore her and play with his rocks again. Rider knew that Strife was a man of few words, but this was a bit ridiculous. What the heck was he building, anyway? It certainly wasn't sandcastles.
Rider shrugged and returned to the captain, who was busy taking head-count and asking for a new crossbow.
"Well, everywhere looks ripe for the picking, cap'n. Hopefully there's a place between here and the tavern.
((And here's where we skim over the boring stuff.))
[glow=red,2,300]The Silver Ring[/glow]
First question: Who the bleep names their tavern after something valuable, shiny and easily stolen?
Second: Where was Rane?
Well, there were pirates here. And they certainly looked like Rane's, though truth be told, Rider couldn't keep track of all the pirates on the sea anymore.
In these dangerous times, it was absolutely critical to play your hand close to your chest. Unfortunately, as proven earlier in this RP, Rider had the self-preservation skills of the average lemming.
"Yo! Anyone here seen a certain pirate king? Has the same fashion sense as Wandy Red Mage an ancient Gem guildman?"
((... WIS was my dump stat.))
Upon seeing the looks on their faces, Rider looked outside. No Rane there. No Rane upstairs. Rider never realized how much she liked the little bugger. Like watermelon. Or like a panda with a mean face, or like sandals with pressure points drawn on them, or the smell of a blackboard eraser, or a Sunday morning where you wake up and it's raining. Well, she liked him more than hard bread.
... Right, but she was concerned about him. For reasons other than his crucial role in the plot.
"Did he happen to leave a forwarding address?"
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Post by Celestial on Jan 6, 2010 17:09:51 GMT -5
((Tabloid Town Hospital))
A guy flew up onto the roof and landed in front of Celestial. Well, not so much landed as crashed right in like a log thrown by show-off lumberjack. And one thing was for certain, he reeked of the Underdeep.
"Ah. I assume, as a fellow servant of the Underdeep, that you are here to help us?" he said to her, getting up without any apparent injuries. Celestial nodded, looking him right in the eye.
"I suppose you could call me that," she said a little snappily. "Do you know where the nearest Underdeep entrance is exactly? I have some business to take care of,"
"So, um,are you gonna tell me what this is all about, by any chance?" the kidnapped pirate spoke up, breaking the silence. He was taking this whole thing rather well actually. Why did he take things this well? That was annoying.
"You've been dragged into a war," she replied without looking at him. Instead, the dragon mage looked across the city. Those who wanted them were gathering and this time they had brought big guns. Bigger guns certainly than she could handle. Even the Underdeep could not fight well when its host was reduced to blood and guts.
"Hurry up!" she hissed at the guy who had crash-landed in front of her.
((Spacefleet Network))
At last, Haggoth arrived and allowed The Author to actually understand what she was looking at. She listened in on the conversation between Haggoth and Cyclops, which was made possible by the plot-convenient fact that unlike most security cameras in the Real WorldTM this one had sound. Ah, the joys of sci-fi technology!
Clearly they thought they had gotten rid of her and the plot was moving away from the network. But at the same time, there was a ship going to kill Celestial which she wasn't supposed to know about.
Now, here she had two options. That ship was bound to have robots of some kind, most likely a battle drone. Those were good enough for her and she could probably hijack it if she was careful. Getting there was a problem.
The sensible thing was to go back to her station and trasmit to it from there. The Rule of Cool thing to do was break through the Fourth Wall and go along it until she reached the point where the drone's AI was. Fourth Walls tended to move with the plot and existed wherever there was plot. Therefore, if she wanted to get there she could because then she would be creating plot.
Rule of Cool it was. The Author just hoped that this would not be a godmod. If it was and it was pointed out, she could rewrite the post no problem.
The soundtrack changed to 'Libera Me From Hell', since the chorus was applicable and thus proving Draco on Kwoi's summary right. This roleplay was about to get interesting.
Somewhere in Dunbarrow, a voice was heard saying 'Oh no, not again' before shattering apart.
The Author climbed out of the hole in the Fourth Wall and clung on tightly, trying not to look at all the people watching her. She gritted her teeth and crawled along, all the while thinking of what she was going to do with the plot when she was with the drone. If there was a drone. Please let there be a drone.
There were no drones, just weapons on the dropship. The Author cursed and almost let go of the Fourth Wall, falling out into the audience (which would have been very awkward). However, there was one more bit of tech that she could take over: the dropship itself.
She quickly imagined the dropship's computer, limited as it was. It appeared on the other side of the Fourth Wall, quite hazy. The Author grinned and allowed her Willing Suspention of Disbelief to carry her in.
She tried not to touch anything. As much fun as hacking was, it was not fun when somebody died and they tended to do that in accidents. And most of all, The Author was sick of being thought of as a virus.
Now, where was the screen on which they showed in-flight movies? Heck, any screen which displayed non-essential information would do. She could help them take down the dragon they were looking for...maybe.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 6, 2010 17:23:50 GMT -5
Brassport Assembly Hall
The front of Sarn’s tunic was wet with his sister’s tears before they detached themselves from the other and discreetly wiped their faces. Sarn noticed the fatigue in Sarinon just as she noticed the injuries in him, but neither said anything. They both refused to spoil this most blessed moment and both knew words would …
"What's the meaning of this?" A tall man with a black pony tail and no pants was storming over to them, a look of disgust on his otherwise handsome face. "Who are you and what's going on here?" The man narrowed his eyes at Sarn. "And you'd better not be with wand-lady over there,"
Both siblings stood up, each helping the other, still disappointed that the “moment” had fled. Sarinon took a few steps forward and paused before Oscar, Gentleman Adventurer. She had recognized his voice.
“Mr Featherstone, please accept my most humble gratitude for the gift of my life. And … “ she took a deep breath, throwing away her pride, “ … if you will, accept also my deepest regret and remorse for my prior harsh words. I can make no excuse for my tongue.” She bowed her head to him, shaking slightly with exhaustion. Sarn stepped forward and slipped his arm around her waist, doing his best not to look below the gentleman’s belt … or lack thereof.
“I, too, must offer my thanks and apologies. I saw only a man fleeing and, had I known it was my Sarinon you were off to save, I would have shouted praise instead of insults.” He bowed with a flourish, wincing as, once again, pain shot through his body. Then he continued. “Thank you, Mr … Featherstone. Thank you for saving my vixen.”
“Now,” he continued, turning aside to where the wand-lady lay sprawled, leading Sarinon gently with him. There was no way he was going to let her go again. He knelt down and turned her over onto her back, jumping in shock when he saw who it was. He looked down at her, up at the frozen glass golems and back down at her again.
“Rikku … did you …?” he breathed, “how could you?”
There seemed to be no other explanation except that Rikku had caused all this carnage. Whether on purpose or not, Sarn wasn’t yet ready to judge, but he wasn’t taking any chances. The Feberi ripped a thin strip of fabric from his cloak and sang a quick burst of enchantment that wove the threads into a rope. It wasn’t very strong, but it would hold until something better could be found. He bent, tied Rikku’s hands behind her back and then stood up again, taking Sarinon’s hand in his.
Something important flickered at the back of Sarinon’s mind. Something she had forgotten, but she couldn’t remember … she pushed the thought away for the moment. It could wait.
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Post by Ian Wolf-Park on Jan 6, 2010 19:14:19 GMT -5
Mage Manor
Lupehunter finally arrived at the library after making several wrong turns and hitting several dead ends. Of course, much like the manor, he saw that the library was huge. Finding that record on the largest Underdeep hole was going to be like looking for a needle in a haystack, but he hoped that he would find it.
Several times during his search, he ended up choking on the thick layer of dust after opening a book, but so far, he found nothing that would help with his search. However, he wasn't about to give up yet. After what seemed like an eternity, he thought he found the right one when he stumbled across a small book simply entitled 'The Underdeep'. He opened it and was slightly disappointed at what he saw, but he was happy that he found something that would help him.
"There's a large one in or around Tabloid Town, huh? I wonder if it's the opening that voice was talking about," he said to himself before closing the book and leaving the library. Then he headed back to the basement.
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Post by aerisangel01 on Jan 6, 2010 21:09:01 GMT -5
"Are you SURE she's here?"
"No. But according to the information we gathered, her husband was seen at this place rather frequently. She was going to meet him before she..."
"Disappeared."
A nod of agreement. Déliana looked at her destination, some strands of her long, pink hair blocking it's view as the wind blew them against her face. A manor. She didn't need, or care, to know more. If this was indeed the place where she was held, there would be a hell to pay...
As if she could read her mind, her 'companion' put her hand on her shoulder, talking. "Remember, Keaira..."
"I don't care what this old Faerie has to say, Lenore. I'm NOT a part of your Clan, I do things MY WAY, whether you like it or not!" One quick movement of her arm removed the hand, sending the girl to the ground.
"Even if our sister doesn't like it?" Déliana turned around, glaring furiously at the woman in front of her. Lenore just smiled, with her typical, mischievous grin.
"She is MY sister." She spat. "Not yours, no one else's. YOU are nothing but a lock. Whose's purpose I destroyed, I might add."
"My point still stands." Lenore spoke the last word in a sing-song voice, grinning some more as she got up. "I know you don't like me. Or anyone. But you do love your twin, and you know how sad she would be if she learned you lapsed into your old ways. Again."
A quick snort, Déliana turned her head to the Mansion. "I'll be careful."
"I hope so, because we won't clean up behind you OR help you if you get in trouble. Have fun with your hunt!"
The girl turned around, before disappearing in a vortex.
"Well then... Let's get this started."
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Post by Ikkin on Jan 7, 2010 0:59:26 GMT -5
Ikkin had all but given up hope that any of the ninja had actually cared enough to follow her when she heard the rather loud footsteps of a giant lizard approaching her. Ikkin turned around to find him quickly closing the remaining distance between them.
"Heh, I guess you really were telling the truth about wanting to help Sev," she said. "That's good. I don't know how much longer I could carry him, and I couldn't really do anything to make it easier for him since it would take even longer if I had to go that far out of my way..."
She knelt down, being careful not to let Sev touch the ground, to make it easier for the ninja to take him from her if he wanted to. "If you started taking him to Mage Manor, I could get some things to keep his injuries from getting any worse and catch up with you when I'm done. That'd probably be best for him..."
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Post by Jina on Jan 7, 2010 2:25:56 GMT -5
Tabloid Town Hospital Roof "Do you know where the nearest Underdeep entrance is exactly? I have some business to take care of."
"This whole hospital is basically the Underdeep. The place where it got in is a hole in the wall of the basement. I'll show you the way, if you want."
At the same time, Corenu had told Sandra to throw him up as well. He landed next to them in a more painful manner than Halin had, and healed himself. He looked at Celestial, and sensed magic. And her eyes are... static?
He heard Halin mention something about the Underdeep being in the hospital. She must be on our side then... magic, with the Underdeep... maybe.
"Are you, by any chance, a resident of that big magical building? The one with a big stone wall seperating itself from the Underdeep?"
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Post by Rikku on Jan 7, 2010 3:10:00 GMT -5
Brassport Assembly Hall
((I had to squish a lot into this one. If I got something horribly wrong, let me know and I'll try to fix it. ^_^))
Everything felt fuzzy and strange, as though a stifling layer of something greyish and partially transparent muffled her perception. Sort of like some person narrating her actions went for ages without posting. No, that was silly. It was more like … like she was running on different time than everyone else, her seconds measured in the feathery beat of her heart and the soft confusion of voices and screams.
And then everything snapped into focus. Her thoughts, her vision, her hearing – all functional and clear. Almost too clear. It was the sharp silence of glass, the cold clarity of ice. It felt like if she paid too much attention, let herself get involved, then her thoughts would no longer be her own, and –
The Underdeep –
Oh gods, the blackness, like oil in her head –
And then she couldn't remember what was wrong. There was chaos - that was right, wasn't it? Just a few seconds had passed, to judge by the state of things. Rikku struggled to sit up, but her limbs wouldn’t obey her. They felt as heavy as lead.
That girl … did that girl have her wand? Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear. That wasn’t good at all.
Not for that girl, anyway.
Rikku’s wand was fashioned out of the humerus of her uncle, dead for a hundred years, or thereabouts. In his time he’d been a fearsome necromancer, and a lot of that power still lingered, making the wand unreliable but, occasionally, very useful indeed. It also meant that an irritable, vengeful ghost was bound to it. This might end up … interesting.
Her wrists were suddenly cold, and someone – a girl, young – said, “I will release you if you explain what you have done here. And I'll ask you one more time. How do we get home?”
Rikku gave a bloodstained grin. She spat onto the floor. “I don’t bargain with children, and I certainly don’t explain myself to them. As for getting home …” She straightened as best she could with her wrists frozen to the floor, and smiled at the girl. “You’ll never get home, little girl. Never. And if you even try to threaten—”
Here she stopped, frowned, and utterly ruined the drama by uttering, in a confused voice, “Did he really say that? Then you shouldn’t play with thorns? Waitaminnit, what? What does that even mean? I swear, once my hands are free I’ll strangle that idiot with his own blubberous entrails.” She paused, and added, “And then punch him in the face.”
Rikku glanced around for him, and spotted him over by two others, who looked vaguely familiar. One was an angel, and the pale one was weeping. A weeping angel?
She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to not blinkShe tried to sit up straighter, figure out how to get herself free, but the effort made her new ice shackles rub against her scorched skin and the pain of it was enough to send her once more into vague semi-consciousness. She slumped back to the ground.
She was vaguely aware of someone coming, binding her wrists – an angel? She tried to ask for help, to explain about the darkness, but the darkness wouldn’t let her.
She wanted to kill these people. She wanted their help. She wanted them to burn, she wanted them to get home, she wanted – she wanted -
Rikku had no idea what she wanted, and somehow, that made this whole situation even worse.
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Post by Strife on Jan 7, 2010 8:34:19 GMT -5
((Tabloid Town - Near Zagora's Shop))
Several minutes passed, and not much happened around Strife other than his pirate allies walking out of Zagora's shop. He could also hear the nearby sound of one of the Fleet's dropships. He didn't pay attention, though, preferring to spend all of his focus and concentration on sculpting his new weapon. Dust and dirt flew through the air in front of him, making his work difficult for anyone else to see.
Soon enough, though, he stopped, paused, and backed away slightly from the object he had crafted in front of him. He waited for the dust and smoke to settle, and when it finally did, the glimmering frame of a large two-handed sword appeared. The blade itself was fairly wide, but it was also smooth, simple and elegant, with no jagged edges or runes carved into it. The hilt and handle were a little more eccentric, with various twists and curves pointing out of it, but in such a way that you could tell that a Spacefleet officer designed it. Essentially, if Spacefleet liked using giant swords instead of guns, they might look like this.
While it was indeed a good-looking sword, the fact remained that it was made of very crude materials that Strife just happened to find in the ground in front of him, as well as a few pieces of metal he salvaged from his motor bike. He needed some way to boost its strength so that it would be useful in combat.
Strife walked forward, knelt down, and lifted the sword from the ground. It was heavy, but nothing he couldn't handle. Gripping it with both hands, but keeping it lowered in a non-threatening way, he made his way towards the voodoo shop that captain Huntress had just left.
Once inside, he walked past the assorted odds and ends and confronted Zagora. He set the blade on the counter, then detached the sack of Brassport coins from his waist, setting it on the counter as well. It flopped over on its side, spilling out a decent amount of gold, silver, and bronze.
"I need this blade refined and enchanted," he began, talking in almost a whisper to avoid startling the woman. Some could argue, though, that his voice sounded even more menacing when it was quiet. "Something to give it an edge in combat. I anticipate my foes to be heavy users of magic, so I would like to give them a taste of their own medicine."
Strife moved the sword slightly and indicated an empty socket embedded into the hilt.
"This is a compartment for the enchantment. Interested?"
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Post by Nasuella on Jan 7, 2010 9:27:04 GMT -5
Somewhere in the forest
It didn't take long for Kovaran to catch up to Ikkin. To his relief, she was still willing to accept his help - particularly since she clearly needed it. That firebird was not small, and while he knew that birds had lighter skeletons, this did not seem to make the actual animals any lighter.
Of course, for people with his strength, carrying a bird was effortless when it came to mass.
The mage seemed to have realised that; she knelt down, asking him to carry Sev to the Manor for her. Kovaran hesitated for a moment, still remembering how he had caused the bird's injuries himself--You can be gentle, Kovaran, he reminded himself. Because you know how to use power.
Kneeling himself, he placed one large hand under Sev's body - to support him - then the other on top. It was immediately clear that he was being very careful, holding the bird as though he were something fragile.
"I will not be able to go at full speed myself," he spoke, his voice unusually low (normal speaking volume for most people), "but I will still move it--him to the Manor." Momentarily he looked at Ikkin's face, an earnest expression on his own.
"That is my promise. Promises matter to me."
Then he got to his feet and started walking, careful not to move Sev too much.
--
Tabloid Town -> Outside The Silver Ring
The tip of Nasue's tail twitched. Follow the dragon. The same dragon who attacked us? Yeah, that's good for my--our survival!
She left the shop with the captain (jumping when a nearby shop sign fell, of course), and after reaching the blarf, climbed back on. For a moment she felt grateful that it was only her body that had been changed - the way she had been taught to climb, and to see the world as an obstacle course (rather apt for a pirate), remained intact, as did the rest of her mind.
Still didn't explain the headaches, but she'd probably worry about those later.
*
Cautiously climbing down from the huge black furry thing called the blarf, the coati took one look at the tavern and whistled. Whatever they serve here has got to be expensive!
Beginning to walk towards the tavern, Nasue quickly stopped. Oh, right. Some taverns had a "no pets" policy, and speech or not, she'd probably look like someone's pet even though she wasn't. For a moment she had the wonderful image of herself wearing a collar, but quickly dismissed it.
So she decided to sit close to the blarf and wait for the others. Of course, it wouldn't be a long wait.
"Head west when you reach the Silver Ring"... did the dragon go that way?
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